Requiem for The Forgotten Browncoat.

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Requiem for The Forgotten Browncoat.

Postby Tavey » Thu Jan 21, 2010 6:35 pm

The second day after they landed saw the crew and passengers of The Monarch congregating in the main hold of the ship. It was the early evening. The sun had just begun it's descent into twilight, its golden light bathing the area in an ethereal glow.

Kynthia walked slowly down the steps into the hold. She looked across to Lu, waiting for the seeminly tiny woman to nod before she pressed the appropriate buttons to open the sealed area that Chris Rapson had been stored within.

The door slid smoothly to one side. Frozen air billowed out into the hold. Inside the narrow space, a simple box waited for them. Inside the box was one man who was coming home in so many ways.

The Forgotten Browncoat. One of so many who had lain on the Penal Moon waiting and hoping that one day rescue would come.

Lu stepped forward, tears beginning to spill down her cheeks as she did. Kynthia and three of the others slid the box out and then carried him to the main ramp.

Standing at the bottom of the ramp were six men in rough clothing. It was these men that Kynthia had spent so long hunting down. Some of the remaining members of Chris' unit had been more than willing to help in this time. They took the box on their shoulders and began the long walk to one of the graveyards that surrounded Serenity Valley.

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Re: Requiem for The Forgotten Browncoat.

Postby Kris » Thu Jan 21, 2010 8:20 pm

Lu stood at the end of the ramp for a few moments as her mind began swimming. She was telling herself to follow them, finally put her mind at peace and allow herself to let go of what she had lost. Her legs were not listening though, they would not move beyond where they were planted. Was it the fact that she was about to step onto the ground that would be her late husband's final resting place, or the fact that she hadn't told the others her plans after the funeral? She did not know, but knew that she had to follow or she would never be able to let go.

After about a minute, and after many of the others began to leave the ship down the very ramp she was planted on, she got herself to move and followed along behind the others, her eyes still filled with tears.

Her mind was still swimming, for she had told no one why she had been basically locked up in her room since they began their trip here, her packing of all the belongings that belonged to her and her late husband. Her plan to settle down here and not continue on with them. Her plan to raise the baby here. What would they think when she told them? Would they beg her to stay, or would they tell her that maybe her plan was the best for her and the baby? At this moment she did not want to know their thoughts.

Following behind everyone, she felt a hand on her shoulder helping her along the way. One of the members of Chris' unit that wasn't helping carry him was there beside her. They had known each other prior to this meeting when Chris was originally sent away, and it was a small comfort that he was there to help with all of this.

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Re: Requiem for The Forgotten Browncoat.

Postby Galifestus » Thu Jan 21, 2010 9:26 pm

Neither in his experience nor in his conditioning was there any place assigned for Burton Sifton in this kind of afair. He decided it would be best to stand at attention in the periphery, out of evryone's way. He also thought it best to clean up best he could, wearing his soberest garb. He cut a fine little figure standing near a landing strut till the funeral party had descended the ramp. Then he followed behind the whole group by an increasing margin. The were enough folk around that it wasn't really any surprise that someone was suddenly walking beside him.

Glancing from the corners of his eyes without turning his head, he saw that the man walking beside him was very large, though nowhere near the size of Titan. He was wearing some kind of preacher's get up, black trimmed in red. Bug could hear the man's robes swish as he paced along as somberly as anyone in the party ahead. The big man looked down at the boy for a moment and then spoke.

"Did you know mister Rapson, my boy?" he asked in a low voice.

"No, sir." Bug answered in as hushed a voice as the question was asked.

"The Colonel ain't here with them?"

"No, sir."

The boy didn't catch the next few words, but the tone was enough to give him a shiver down his spine. Finally the big man asked him how long he'd been aboard and about some of the adventures they had had since. The boy answered as discreetly as he could, leaving out anything that might put anyone on a wanted list. The big man smiled on the sensible lad.

On they walked together behind the main party.
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Re: Requiem for The Forgotten Browncoat.

Postby SDJThorin » Thu Jan 21, 2010 11:41 pm

OOC: JP between Titan and Tarra.
{The day before the funeral}


Titan, being relatively new to the ship hadn't been told directly about the funeral for the man he had never met.

He had wandered into the kitchen as Tarra was prepping a large meal. It was a meal that was bigger than normal, so he had asked if it was in celebration of being on Hera for the 10th.

Tarra smiled gently and shook her head. "Not yet," she answered politely. "This is in memory of a friend that passed. Lu Rapson's husband, Chris. We're burying him here before the 10th."

"Ah," his face crinkled, "is the crew visiting the grave site then?"

Hm. How to phrase this? "Actually, Tighten," Tarra said, shifting a few things on the countertop. "We're burying him here. We, ah, we brought him with us."

"OH, ah... I see... where exactly was he kept?" Titan had never been good with the dead. It stemmed from a childhood incident inside a hospital, something that even now sent shivers down his back. "Has the place and sermons been chosen yet?"

"Somewhere safe, secure, and hermetically sealed," replied Tarra matter-of-factly. Last minute prep work was still required and she moved around and continued the chopping while she spoke. "I don't know about places and sermons and such. His widow might be best to ask; she the one expecting a little one."

Titan nodded, "Well, I wouldn't want to bother her at such a time. I'll talk to the Captain first to see what has been planned and maybe Wave some people that I know. Thanks for the information, I was wondering why everyone was so uneasy these last few days."

It'd been more than just the last few days, but it wasn't her place to point that out. "It's tense for former Browncoats to be anywhere near the Alliance, but for the last few days? I'd say it would be Chris and the 10th. Hands down." And it had nothing to do with her unease. Or her quiet tension.

"Best talk to the Cap'n about the arrangements," Tarra confirmed. "I think Lu might be a bit too preoccupied with everything." The small timer 'ting'ed gently. "Excuse me, Tight, but I've got to get the pastry shells out of the oven."

Titan, knowing better than to get in the way of a Cook and her baking left her to it.

He did have a brief talk with the Captain to find out what had been planned, and offered some of his musical and vocal talents.

{Day of the Funeral}

Titan had left earlier in the day to get the equipment that he'd need, luckily the Alliance didn't mind a man of his Profession flying a shuttle, as long as he registered all his planetary flight plans and didn't deviate from them. It allowed him to gather up everything he was after and have the time to practice as well.
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Re: Requiem for The Forgotten Browncoat.

Postby KendleRJ » Fri Jan 22, 2010 1:06 am

Cooking. It was a blessing at these types of things. The procession was just forming, so she had a bit of time left to get everything set and ready for the afters.

The name hit her like a miniature freight train: Chris Rapson.

She remembered when she saw him last. What had happened. And who had killed him. It seemed that there should have been more than enough time for her to forget... but that, apparently, wasn't Tarra's style. She remembered it all, far too clearly. And she had a wonderful image of the half-headed freak who had been dispatched by the former Captain after he had shot Chris Rapson while looking for HER indelibly etched in her mind.

She was slowing her breathing; it had increased slightly with the memory. She was safe, she assured herself. And nothing she felt, or even remembered, would change the present. She swallowed. And everything that had threatened to surface, travelled back downwards so it didn't stick in her craw.

Not like this. Not like here.

This whole planet felt wrong, like she didn't belong on it, like if she didn't pay strict and close attention, she might get shook off quicker than a tick on a dog.

Lots of ghosts. Lots of things. And none of it seemed to pertain to her directly, but touched everyone and everything around her. She might as well have been moving through a mist.

Well, finally finishing up and laying the lunch on the counter, all covered, she wiped her hands on the apron and then removed it, neatly hanging it on a hook in the kitchen.

Despite making a deal with herself about NOT wearing a skirt ever again, Tarragon Hunter revealed her dress, tasteful, but certainly not conservative. She had upswept her hair and tied it back to frame her face - no makeup required on a face so young - and wore boots, sturdy and comfortable. They were black; she hadn't expected to need anything black when she was on Beaumonde.

How quickly everything had changed.

She thought she was late by the number of those already on the ramp. Walking forward resolutely, she took a place alone but still ahead of Lu. Tarra was sombre and respectful, and kept pace with the others. And in her pocket was The Tasting Spoon. It had been Chris's. And her last memory of him.

It made sense to stay there with him. Perhaps after this she could finally let the guilt go.

Perhaps after this she could let a lot of things go.

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Re: Requiem for The Forgotten Browncoat.

Postby Tavey » Fri Jan 22, 2010 12:52 pm

As they walked through the men and women standing quietly in respect, Kynthia could only think that processions like this must have been happening often over the last few days. Chris was truly coming to the place that had changed his world entirely.

She glanced back over the group, smiling slightly as she spotted the man walking beside Bug. She'd hoped that her message would arrive in time.
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Re: Requiem for The Forgotten Browncoat.

Postby Sam Crerar » Fri Jan 22, 2010 4:29 pm

Her best clothes looked a lot like her every day clothes, a few less patches and a few less holes. Fittingly, her shirt was black, collared, and gave her the somber air she was looking for. She didn't have any nice coats, only the brown coat, but that was also fitting for the occasion. Sam sighed as she followed the pall-bearers, having been one of the crew who had passed Chris onto his six former brothers-in-arms.

Sam didn't really like funerals, the finality of it all, mixed with the fact that she'd seen so many people die without their funerals. She didn't know what to do, what to think, how to hold herself, or pay respects. In the war, it had been easy, when they'd had the opportunity, a full gun salute, the helmet, boots and rifle in memorium...until someone needed the rifle, or the boots, or well, even the helmet, though most of the time they did without. The last funeral she hadn't even attended, really, not interested in paying respects to the departed twin of their former captain.

This was different, though. Special. This was someone who didn't die in combat, like he should have, as would have been fitting for a warrior, he died in her arms, after a senseless attack. And he was part of the crew. That meant she had to go, whether she liked funerals or not, she owed it to the dead. Just hopefully, no one would ask any words of her. She wasn't very eloquent, and mixed with her own feelings right now, and dread of funerals, it just wouldn't be shiny.
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Re: Requiem for The Forgotten Browncoat.

Postby Quamie » Sat Jan 23, 2010 6:28 pm

Ameri arrived, kind of merging with the growing crowd so unobtrusively that if you weren't watching, you'd hardly notice her arrival. She wore a dress of earth tones, no jewelry, no makeup, but her hair was tied back at the nape of her neck. While not the traditional black, neither were her garments flashy, and her expression was somber. She saw Lu, and carefully made her way over to her.

"Hey," she said, the word conveying a wealth of emotion. Loss, sadness, sympathy for the extent of Lu's pain, all was written on the medic's young face as she opened her arms to offer Lu a hug.
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Re: Requiem for The Forgotten Browncoat.

Postby SDJThorin » Sat Jan 23, 2010 8:21 pm

Seeing the procession far in the distance Titan gestured to the rest to make the last of their preparations and get into places.

He was too young to really remember the War, but he had close friends that had, on both sides.

He knew what needed to be done for one of the Fallen.

When it came to this, Browncoat or Alliance, it was at the heart the same. The Words might be different, but the sentiments were the same.
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Re: Requiem for The Forgotten Browncoat.

Postby Tavey » Mon Jan 25, 2010 12:24 pm

Serenity Valley had held so very many dead. During the clean up, there had been a distinct moment when those burying the fallen had literally stopped and stared. Then begun to simply place them into mass graves, Browncoats and Alliance alike. In addition to the massive mounds that covered the mass graves were several smaller cemetaries, dotted with thousands of tiny crosses, stones and the like.

It was to one of these that Chris Rapson was being taken.

Feet slowing, they neared the place where they would lay the Forgotten Browncoat. The man who had spent nine years on the Penal Moon, remembering and hoping for his love to come and find him. Kynthia's eyes filled with unshed tears as she thought of the short time they'd known him. And the cruel way that the 'Verse had stolen him from them.

From Lu. And their unborn child.

Ahead of them stood a semi-circle of somber men and women. Some of them had been on The Penal Moon with Chris. Others were there for Lu. Still more from his unit. Kynthia sighed deeply.

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Re: Requiem for The Forgotten Browncoat.

Postby KendleRJ » Wed Jan 27, 2010 4:15 pm

Quiet and paced. There were those waiting. And none looked familiar. Nor anything but saddened by what had transpired.

If Tarra could have sunk into the ground beneath her feet, she would have. If she could have dragged her feet more, she would have. This final farewell to Chris Rapson was like a closing of a chapter in her life. And in her heart.

There had been so much that had been lost. And so much more that had not... COULD not... be replaced.

So, as she walked with the others to stand in solidarity and remembrance of the fallen man, that Forgotten Browncoat, Tarragon Hunter did not know why there were so many. Not for he who had only briefly passed through her life. He who had left his legacy growing inside of his widow.

It would have been so much worse had he never been found, never reconnected with his lost love, and never been able to live the rest of his life where he wanted to. But Tarra never knew any of that.

Had he been left to die on his own, he would have not lasted much longer than with the help of a nameless psychotic stalker. Tarra didn't know that either.

All she knew that a man who had followed HER had shot this man they were burying today. And that she felt as alone in this sorrow as she did the day she was disowned. And that this, like that day, would pass, and she would still be alive.

There were walls. And there were doors.

The walls were solid.

And her doors were closed.

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Re: Requiem for The Forgotten Browncoat.

Postby Tavey » Mon Feb 01, 2010 11:27 am

There were no flowers, no pretty trees, just heat and dust. This had been a battle ground not that many years before, after all. The ground had been ravaged by warfare. Lu took another shaking step forward, and one of the mourners immediately came to her.

"Come." She said, putting an arm around the pregnant woman and leading her to stand at the head of the newly dug grave. "We put together a little something for afterwards. And I heard your ship has someone who can help us with that too."

Kynthia took her place with the others, her face deeply sad. She'd liked Chris very much and was going to miss him terribly.

Then she realised that they were all looking at her. A little startled, she looked around and cleared her throat.

"Right.." she began. Cleared her throat again. "As Captain of The Monarch.. gotcha.."

She moved to the other side of the grave and took a deep breath.

"Chris Rapson was a strong willed and even stronger hearted man. He sat in a cell for most of the last decade waiting and hoping that he hadn't been forgotten. Well, he wasn't. Miss Lu over there, she looked for him until she got to hold him in her arms again. I ain't good with words and such. I just know that he made my friend laugh and be happy. And that was good enough for me. Anyone else need to speak, now is the time."

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Re: Requiem for The Forgotten Browncoat.

Postby SDJThorin » Mon Feb 01, 2010 9:08 pm

Titan cued his small gathering of musicians and singers to gently and quietly fill the awkward pause as people thought about what they would like to say.

He watched everyone intently, so that as someone moved to talk he could fade out his performers and allow that person to speak what needed to be said.

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Re: Requiem for The Forgotten Browncoat.

Postby KendleRJ » Tue Feb 02, 2010 11:16 pm

It had begun.

The Captain had begun the speechifyin' and she waited patiently, looking at those gathered, trying to think if she could place a face with a name from a story or an anecdote that had been shared in the kitchen aboard the Monarch.

With Lu flyin', Chris was tastin' and they were laughing and joking. It had taken a few days, but after he knew he had nowhere else to go and she had a sympathetic ear... while he wrote his letters and commented on the smells and tastes of the various dishes, they had spoken of his childhood, of his hopes and dreams. She had spoken of her past in small snippets, and he had mentioned the war in passing. They reminisced about the best of the memories, and glossed over the rest.

But he had spoken of the people. THAT was most important to him. Their camaraderie and their loyalty. When people went through adversity together, they were connected somehow, like they shared a life, and shared each other's souls. So, as she looked around the grave site, there was a moment, just a brief one, where Tarragon Hunter FELT Chris Rapson close by. A smell, one she had come to associate with him as she took him on the walk to the kitchen every day, wafted by her.

And as the others spoke their piece, she nodded and took the spoon from her pocket. "Rest well, Chris Rapson," she whispered and crouched down, dropping it into the hole already open and waiting for him.

Suddenly overcome with emotion, Tarra stood and backed up quickly. Tears were gathering and she suddenly felt uncomfortable. She wouldn't... shouldn't... not here. Not now. Swallowing, she looked at her feet and focused on the afters. What was after... so she could breathe, so she could stand. So she could remain.

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Re: Requiem for The Forgotten Browncoat.

Postby Jake Sjet » Wed Feb 03, 2010 2:57 pm

Hera.
Last stand of the Army of Independence.
Greatest victory for the Anglo-Sihnon Alliance.

To anyone everywhere who hadn’t picked up a gun, gone off to war, and come back a little darker, a little stranger, Hera was a dust ball with a cow infestation. There were precious few natural resources that weren’t easier to get from strip mining a comet, and what beef was exported from Hera back to the Core fetched such a high price it was more a delicacy than culinary staple. There was dust, sand, and assortment of crawling critters and howling fauna, and enough unexploded ordinance to ensure anyone stepping on a land mine would crack the plants crust right in two.

In other words, Hera was useless. It made nothing of importance, it was mostly self sufficient, and at the end of the day was mostly used as a symbol for the down trodden or the defenders atop the moral high ground. But Nakali Xiancho Sjet had found another use for Hera.

Sun bathing.

Finding his way onto the ventral hull had been easy enough, in atmo both inner and outer lock doors were able to open at the same time. And having been trapped in the over hyped tin can for so long, he’d found a deck chair of all things squared away at the back of the cargo bay. And so he lounged at top the warming hull of the Firefly, eyes closed against the beating rays of a gentler sun than the last one he’d been washed in, allowing nature to work out the kinks and knots space travel can do to ya.

So what if there was a funeral? Did Nakali know the guy? No. Not his place to stuff his nose where it wasn’t needed and Hera had a habit of biting the nose off such curious folk if they were so inclined. He was a case study in that. And so he relaxed, he unwound; he began to dream of a better day than yesterday. For the next 7 hours anyway, and he had a lovely little pill to deal with that eventuality, and now all he had to do was relax, in the sun, on a sun dried dust ball.

Mission accomplished.

“Oh yeah...this is the life...”

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Re: Requiem for The Forgotten Browncoat.

Postby Tavey » Thu Feb 04, 2010 3:19 pm

On Behalf of TineApplegate, AKA Lu. Who is enjoying being a new MOM in real life too! Many blessings to the lass and the little guy, Andrew. Baby was born healthy and hale. I'm sure she will pass on all the details as soon as she can.

=====================================

Lu kept herself back from the others, even though she knew that she would have to say goodbye. Hearing Kynthia speaking and watching the others, she knew that she had to do it.

Finally stepping forward after Tarra was done, Lu took a deep breath and knelt herself down slowly, pulling a necklace out from under her shirt's neckline and held it tight.

"Chris," she whispered slowly through her tear-filled self, "I promise, no matter what, that I won't forget you. I won't let our child not know about his father." She tightened the grip on her necklace and placed her other hand onto her stomach, which wasn't feeling all that well, but she shrugged it off.

"I'm not going to do what I did before, go on a crazy rampage. I'm going to take care of myself, and our child. I love you Chris, I always have and always will."

Standing up slowly with the help of some of the men who had come for Chris, she stepped back a bit and broke down, her face red and wet. She didn't want to leave him, she wanted him back in her arms.

She hadn't told anyone of her plan yet, and she knew she had to. But she was going to be leaving so much behind that she was getting very overwhelmed.
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Re: Requiem for The Forgotten Browncoat.

Postby Galifestus » Fri Feb 05, 2010 12:14 pm

He had been on Hera. He'd been at Serenity Valley. He'd helped free Chris Rapson. He'd joined a happy young couple in matrimony. And then he'd watched as hell tore loose and the young man full of promise had slowly died.

He listened and stood solemn and steady in a black cassock with red piping at all the seams, waiting the apropriate moment. He was rather more spare than when last he was seen, but he looked in no way unhealthy, but for the scars which stood out more in a more sunbeaten face. He was aware of the occasional odd look from the crowd gathered, and more than one of recognition, apart from the crew of the Monarch.

Finally the time came and he stepped forward to the place of speaking. His words were true and would be of some comfort to a believer at some other time, but there was no way to wash away the hurt till rather more years intervened. He concluded his words with the well worn text from the psalm, read in low and ringing tones, backed to good effect by the dozen or so singers led by the even bigger man.

Bug kept to the background, wondering at the number of case hardened men and women with pools of wet in their eyes. He had never known the dead man, but he sort of got caught up in the emotion of the event. He kept looking around the crowd as any curious boy would do. He noticed in the crowd, here and there about a half dozen young women with badly sunscarred faces, a little like their own Ameri, each in a similar habbit. Each wore a nunish wimple that hung over their shoulders with baggy looking dark grey coveralls. One of them caught his eye as she too had been scanning the crowd, and her face almost shattered into a grin before she supressed the look.

But he could not be mistaken. For the first time in years, he saw someone he knew from the streets.

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Re: Requiem for The Forgotten Browncoat.

Postby KendleRJ » Tue Feb 09, 2010 8:48 pm

Tarra blinked at the sight. The good Reverend from Leviathan stood before them all. He was speaking and trying to comfort; seemed that's what he was best at. Putting her head down, she hoped against all hope that it was over, that the funeral could be done.

Looking around, she gave a slight nod to Kynthia to let her know that everything was in readiness back on the ship. After all, Tarragon wasn't out front and simply stepped backwards and out of the way of the rest. Keeping her head bowed, she watched her feet all the way back to the ship, unaware of anything else.

Socializin' wasn't for grave side; it was for the afters, and she hoped that it would please those that partook. She wasn't sure how long it might be for the rest to follow, but she needed to be busy and moved quickly to check on the final prep. It wasn't much of anything, either fancy-like of prep-wise, but it was an excuse to get away from family and friends. She had heard the stories.

But they remembered the experiences.

Hurrying into the ship, she called up to anyone out and about: "Lunch served when the others get back..."

~Tag All

Tarragon Hunter
Chef and Crew Member
Monarch - Firefly Class
USS Legacy
Ensign Navkiran Khangura - Engineering
_______________________________________________________________________________________________

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The All-Father wove the skein of your life a long time ago. Go and hide in a hole if you wish, but you won't live one instant longer. Your fate is fixed. Fear profits a man nothing. - The 13th Warrior
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Re: Requiem for The Forgotten Browncoat.

Postby Tavey » Thu Feb 11, 2010 2:43 pm

Kynthia listened to the words that were spoken. She watched Chuy Lo, examining him to see if he was doing well.

When the service was finished, she invited all of those present to return with them to The Monarch to have something to eat and to share stories. Then stepped over to him.

"Hello." She said simply. "I'm glad you could make it. Wasn't sure that you would be able to, Leviathan being so far an' all."

TAG - Chuy Lo.

She took a deep breath. "Ship's mine now. Maverick chose to retire back on Silence. So did Sol. I'm surprised they ain't contacted you none seeing as how it's the closest planet. We ain't heard nothing of him since he left."

Looking around, Kynthia was somewhat glad that not everyone she had invited back to the ship was coming. There wasn't that much room on the ship really.

"Chuy, can you escort Ameri back? I think she could use some help. And this here is Bug, who's a big help to us onboard."

TAGs - All - Lets get ourselves back to the Ship!
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Re: Requiem for The Forgotten Browncoat.

Postby Jake Sjet » Thu Feb 11, 2010 6:36 pm

Shoddy was in engineers heaven.

He’d taken a notion that maybe the main drive core needed a wee bit of a tune up. So he’d run the various software products he’d brought with him through the Monarchs antique computer system and come up goose eggs: not a single complaint in the lot. That alone worried him slightly, so Shoddy did the only reasonable thing he could do.

He took apart the computer.

Unlike a lot of modern computers laden with semi stable solid state components and fibre optic wiring, the Monarch had been born in an age of printed circuit boards and insulated wiring, and solder, lots and lots of solder. It was like going home; he could almost smell the scent of peat from the green houses, the chatterng of children carrying through the miles of duct work that made up the bowels of one of the Scottish asteroid homesteads. Noises meant there was life, that things were working to keep folks living.

Silence often meant CO2 scrubbers were shot to hell, slowly choking folk with the heavy poisonous gas. Or sometimes it meant a methane trap was blocked up, and any spacer worth their salt knew that if you didn’t watch what happened to bodily waste, you’d be deep in sh-...well no need to go explaining it. Nothing made more mess than a methane explosion.

And so Shoddy had started out in the morning nestled under the cockpit trying to find the right wire. He’d then had to move on to find the main circuit box, and then deep into the guts of the Monarchs main bus line to find what he was really after. And so he’d taken the large shoe box sized data shunt, a dented affair pox ridden with input jacks, and had proceeded to sacrifice it to the greater god of electrical engineering.

And in the process spread its electrical guts across the dining room table, filling the air with the tangy scent of solder and ozone as he worked at a faulty board that had given him the ‘all green’ diagnostic on a ship riddled with wee gremlins. He lifted the multi tool away from the baord, blowing away the twisting coil of smoke from the solder point, and smiled at his handy word. Not half bad...

So when the call of lunch was let out, and Shoddy saw what he had sowed upon the table in the guise of work, he had one word to utter in his defence.

And like a faulty methane trap, he was deep in that as well.

Tag-Whom ever finds the battle scene between man and computer.

Shamus ‘Shoddy’ McDonald
Ensign Keth Soban, Medic on the USS Legacy

Fellow Crew Injured By Keth: X


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Re: Requiem for The Forgotten Browncoat.

Postby KendleRJ » Thu Feb 11, 2010 8:53 pm

"What the Xiancho????" Tarragon Hunter stood at the edge of the Kitchen with mouth agape. Good thing she had covered the food before she went out, and was only laying it out on the dining room table. Well... that had been the plan before she discovered someone's lovely handiwork.

"Shoddy?" she asked, breathing slightly with the shock of it all. "You DO intend on cleanin' that up, right? Because in short order, there will be..." She was interrupted with the first comers. "There ARE," she amended as she moved forward to open the food on the counter. "People comin' from the funeral to eat and remember the dead."

Shaking her head as she moved to the table, she spoke quietly to him. "I can help, but this needs to move elsewhere." Turning to the others, she smiled and said, "Welcome to the Monarch. Please, help yourself." Hissing at Shoddy, she punctuated the necessity with one word. And no, it wasn't what was completely expected, but it was the only one Tarra could think of on short notice. "NOW."

~Tag Shoddy and the Funeral Comers and Goers

Tarragon Hunter
Chef and Crew Member
Monarch - Firefly Class
USS Legacy
Ensign Navkiran Khangura - Engineering
_______________________________________________________________________________________________

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The All-Father wove the skein of your life a long time ago. Go and hide in a hole if you wish, but you won't live one instant longer. Your fate is fixed. Fear profits a man nothing. - The 13th Warrior
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Re: Requiem for The Forgotten Browncoat.

Postby Tavey » Thu Feb 11, 2010 9:05 pm

(Posted on behalf of Lu)

u took a bit before she was finally able to turn herself back to the ship. She was a bit behind the others, but she had to catch up to Kynthia. Speeding herself up and wiping her tear stained face, she ended up next to Kynthia, Chuy Lo and Bug.

"Kynthia, can I talk to you alone before we get back to the ship?"

Slowing down a bit, Kynthia nodded and let Lu talk.

"I'm not heading anywhere with the ship once everything here on the planet is done." Her eyes, which had been looking at the ground finally looked up to face her captain. "I'm staying here, going to raise the baby here and hopefully make a life for myself here. All my stuff is packed, I'm sorry I didn't say anything sooner I just..." She sighed before continuing, "I wanted to be sure I could do it. I realize once the baby's born I won't be of much use to you all, and its better that I just stay behind now instead of you all having to find another place for me."

She stood there quietly and waited to see what Kynthia would say. She hoped she could stay on board until they all left, as she still had to find a place to live and a place to work, because the money from the jobs would only hold out so long.

Tag - Kynthia

(and tag the others nearby too!)
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Re: Requiem for The Forgotten Browncoat.

Postby SDJThorin » Thu Feb 11, 2010 9:14 pm

Titan heard the 'NOW!' and rush along the catwalk from his shuttle to see what was wrong.

He had left most of the performers at the graveside, with their pay and his gratitude for their great work on short notice. The small 3 person band he had brought back with him in his shuttle had gone ahead while he locked it down.

When he got to the kitchen he saw Shoddy and Tarra at either end of the large kitchen table, "Shoddy, what the... never mind... George, Katt, Winston, put your stuff there and help Tarra with setting out the food, we've only a minute or so before everyone else gets here. Shoddy, let's get the murdered electronics out of sight. Move it people!"

[Tag - Shoddy]

The band was use to this type of thing, as they all worked as servers at the local restaurant, and instinctively seemed to know where Tarra wanted things with minimal direction. Titan would need to give them a bigger bonus.

[Tag - Tarra]
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Re: Requiem for The Forgotten Browncoat.

Postby Quamie » Thu Feb 11, 2010 9:57 pm

Ameri had frozen seeing the nuns from Leviathan, all those experiences rushing upon her and burying her for one horrible instant. Breathe. In, out. In, out. It was how she kept from drowning. She raised her chin, realizing that Ky was asking Chuy to help her to the ship.

"No, thank you. I'm fine." She smiled at Chuy, a shy, shaky smile, but a smile. The ship. She had to get to the ship, but hopefully with some dignity.

Ameri hurried onto the Monarch, just barely keeping herself to a walk, rather than a flat out run. She paused in one of the nooks and crannies so generously afforded by a Firefly such as the Monarch, and gathered her dignity. Finally, the shy young medic stepped into the Lounge area- to a sight unlike her wildest imaginations.

"Oh..." she said, sympathizing in an instant with Tarra- her plans for the meal all awry with Shoddy's mess of machinery. The band was taking stuff away, and Ameri hurried to grab a damp cloth, wiping down the table after them so everything would be prepared.

<tag>
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Re: Requiem for The Forgotten Browncoat.

Postby Galifestus » Fri Feb 12, 2010 3:12 am

"...Leviathan being so far an' all."

"It seemed the least I could do, under the cicumstances. Where is Maverick?"

Chuy listened to the brief explanation. It was good enough for him. He looked over the boy once again yaking stock, and was equally scrutinized. With an exchange of nods, the found they could like each other.

Bug trned with the rest of the crowd headed back to Monarch. Chuy Lo, however, stood long enough to overhear Lu's decision. He could not help but agree with her logic about it. Still he stood closer to Kynthia, ready to support her or explain to her or, if things went all strange again, stop her from killing the pregnant pilot.
~Mike Heywood~
~Fess~
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