A Defiant 'Verse - In Character
POSTED BY: Defiant2thelast
UPDATED: Thursday, July 23, 2009 08:49
VIEWED: 32764
PAGE 2 of 10
Ainsley scanned the port master’s listings, looking for passage. It was only her second day in this feifei de piyan city, but she was eager to see it behind her. She’d already been mugged once, and she had no need to experience worse, even if it meant lowering her standards for suitable transportation.
Her eyes caught on a description of a shuttle for rent. The name and type of the ship made it pretty obviously not Alliance, and renting suggested a long-term deal, which was all she really needed. After filling out the application, she double-checked the listing information and hurried off for the docking area where the Defiant was located, as going to the ship directly would increase her chances of securing the deal. It was a skill she’d learned from working in business – taking initiative beyond the minimum requirements impressed people. She just hoped there wasn’t a line.
Ainsley forced her way through the crowds, resolutely avoiding the beggars. Normally she was soft on those sorts of people, but there were just too many and they’d dry out her accounts if she let them. She felt their eyes on her, knowing that she stood out like a sore thumb with her purple satin tunic, black pants, and decorated sandals.
She slowed her pace as the crowd thickened around a group of mimes. The dock was just ahead, food smells cutting through the stench of humanity and enticing her. She hadn’t eaten much since she’d landed, wary of bad food quality. But, there was always time to eat later, so she continued on. There was a Firefly up ahead that could be the Defiant.
“Excuse me,” she said with authority in her voice, stepping around next to a large man who looked like he was headed that way. “Is that the Defiant, there?” She pointed.
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Lincoln, distracted still by his own thoughts and the mass of humanity surrounding him, was somewhat taken aback by the tall, dark haired woman who quickly stepped in his path. He glanced her over once, her bearing was strong and her clothing mostly casual, but definitely hinting at wealth. Most likely not a local, he decided she wasn't a threat. Nodding once, he replied in a friendly manner.
"Yes, that'd be Defiant. Wouldn't mind telling me who you are then?"
Zhù na ya tian guò de yú kuài!
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Ainsley kept the authority in her voice when she answered, despite the man's friendliness. For all she knew, he was the captain, and she would need to negotiate with him. "My name's Ainsley. I'm here to rent that ship's shuttle. And you are?"
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"Name's Lincoln Bargara. I'm Defiant's first mate. Headed there now. Interested in the shuttle, eh? The captain is going to want to talk to you, right this way."
Lincoln walked past her and continued towards the docked vessel.
Zhù na ya tian guò de yú kuài!
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Ainsley followed Bargara to the ship. Running into the first mate was lucky, and it opened up a possibility she hadn’t considered. If all else failed, she could appeal to him, which gave her another shot to get this deal.
Not that she thought she'd have too much of a problem with the captain. Even after being mugged, she wasn't in danger of running out of money for the foreseeable future. So, as long as he wasn’t ge zhen de hundan, she could pay his asking price if he refused to negotiate it down.
She almost felt like the shuttle was hers already, but tamped down on that before she got too far ahead of herself. She needed to concentrate on the present or she'd set herself up for failure.
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Alexander wandered carefully through the crowd, making sure to blend in as much as possible. His first stop was to a small, crowded food vendor. Starving from his long journey in a box, he ordered a large bowl of noodles and sat with his back to the wall, looking out into the mess of people. He needed to get out of this port fairly quickly. Scoffing down his noodles, he stood up and merged into the nearest lane of traffic. He followed the line of people, not really knowing where he was going, until he saw a group of ships.
Inspecting each one carefully, Alexander's decision was made easily when his eyes fell upon a Firefly. Not the shiniest boat he'd ever seen, but he'd heard of these by reputation; lots of little spaces for hiding things in. He walked around the vessel and inspected it closer, it would do, at least for now.
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Bucket.
Damn it.
He'd hoped to see him with lincoln, or argueing cheerily with a guard about the virtues or faults of types of coffee (as had happened on previous occasions).
He'd hoped at least to find him someplace public, and likely, not bobbing up and down with an orange in his hand and a strong smell of java coming off him.
Dale altered his course and swept past Bucket, swinging his arm round his should in what he hoped was a matey fashion. Why exactly he was worried that the arm swing would be seen as camp by the thugs wasnt exactly logical, but both that, the analysis of the reflex and the meta-analysis werent suitable for the moment.
Bucket was already keeping with Dale's brisk pace and looked right about to speak when Dale cut across him speaking rapidly with a trace of giddy fear.
"Listen, uh, Bucket, I am, now we, are being followed by folks who likely want us to be chargin across a flamin field o' fire sometime in the near future. Whos side I dont care, but WE" Dale breathed in
"need to lose them, ooor find some guard-types who dont take kindly to 'em. Soo, two things-
one- How should we do that, and,
two- why are those mimes at the end of this street lookin veeery angry at you?"
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...Two. Three. Nathan turned full circle on his heel again. With a flick of his wrists, the ball hit the floor and bounced back up into his open hands. Nathan’s eyes calculated the shot subconsciously. The ball flew momentarily on what seemed to be on course, before hitting the side of the ring, which in turn span on its chain.
It had been going this way for about twenty odd minutes when Lincoln came aboard again, followed by a woman who was blatantly upper class. Business. The last time someone boarded his ship for business with out his prior knowledge, certain bullets were exchanged.
Nathan pulled his rolled up sleeves back down and wiped his hands on his trousers, before approaching the pair. He looked at Lincoln so it was obvious to whom the comment was directed, his gaze as if Ainsley wasn't even there.
“So you ain’t of the ton shing lian sort after all, Lincoln?”
EDIT: Gorram' account missposts. By the way, you can roll over the chinese. 
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Lincoln crosses his thick, hairy arms over his chest and smirks at the jest. He shakes his head and retorts.
"You know very well. You were with me that time on.."
He clears his throat as he remembers his tag along and turns to introduce her. Realizing he'll probably get an earful for bringing someone onboard without first talking with Nathan about it. Even if she is a possible source of income.
"This is a miss.. uh.. Ainsley was it? She's interested in the shuttle."
He glances at Ainsley and nods towards the captain adding.
"This is Captain Rey."
Zhù na ya tian guò de yú kuài!
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Dr. Jaclyn Holliday made her way purposely through the masses of humanity crowding the Thebarton Sky Plex, trying to avoid being coughed on or sneezed at. This boxed-in sky port was a breeding ground of all the known diseases in the 'verse and a birthing ground for nasty potential new strains to develop.
Tonight she'd boil her clothes and scrub extra long in the shower once she got back to her little cottage on Beylix. She tried to block out the faces of the sick ones in the crowds, knowing if she stopped and opened her medical bag she'd be surrounded by more of them, all asking, begging, some even demanding her help.
But they were too many. She'd have been overwhelmed, all her medicines depleted with nothing in return except knowing she might have helped a few of them to last just a little longer than they would have anyway.
She'd learned that hard lesson in her first week in Beylix. Mayor Bayne, a kindly old gentleman, had resupplied her stores and given her a mild lecture on wastefulness. Now, barely a year into her contract as the town's only medic, she'd come under the thumb of the new mayor -- a mean and controlling type.
Q'bart Flinders, was making an already bad situation intolerable. Arrogant and self-absorbed, the new mayor had made his intentions clear. He expected more from the two-year contract she'd signed to be the town's physician. He wanted her body as well. In fact, the man seemed to think the conquest of women was a game, one he refused to lose.
As she passed along the port she eyed the docked ships longingly. How wonderful it would be to jump on board, heading out for parts unknown as long as it was far from Beylix. And especially from Flinders.
Her head began to throb and she realized she was scowling deeply, wondering what condition her clinic office would be in when she returned so late. The last time she'd been gone this long, it had been searched, drugs stolen, and a general wreck had been made of the place.
She'd come to the Sky Plex to reexamine a young woman who had given birth only days ago and was being herded off to a new colony on Pyranny 3. Jaclyn insisted on examining her and the newborn once more before they left.
Her poor husband couldn't be blamed for the risk he was taking with his wife and child's health. The family had no choice after Flinders foreclosed on their little scrub farm and the shack they'd turned into a home. Mother and baby's chances were better somewhere off planet than they were in this jung chi duh go-se dway.
And what would her patients do if she left them? The idea of breaking her contract was hard enough on her moral ideals, even before considering the legal ramifications and possible damage to her medical reputation.
But doctors were hard to find on the border planets, good doctors harder still. They needed her, these kind, hard-working folk. If not for them, she'd have worked harder to find a way out. And find a way to get out of her debt to Flinders.
Her eyes drifted over the ships as she walked past the docks. When she caught sight of the battered Firefly model, she smiled. It was an old Aught '3, one of Danny's favorites of the old classic models. He'd loved those old boats and had made a hobby of studying them. Seeing this one brought back bittersweet memories which she crammed down to keep unwanted tears from clouding her vision.
It was late. She should hurry home to a hot shower and early bedtime, but the thought of a sweet, cold Ambrosia made her mouth feel suddenly dry. She stopped, looking up at the flashing neon sign. Maybe she could make time for just one; she'd heard they served the best ones in this particular noisy bar. She looked through the filmy haze of the large window, considering.
A man sitting in a corner booth wearing a worn black jacket was looking back. For one long second she stared, thinking she knew him from somewhere else. He was unkempt but somehow didn't seem as lost and directionless as most of those here. And he wasn't alone as she noticed the
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