![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
schizoauthoressDespite the icon, Jayne doesn't show up in the story.
Title: Tasted of Desire
Author: D.L.SchizoAuthoress (![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
schizoauthoress)
Recipient:2ndary_author
Fandom: Firefly/Serenity
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1546
Spoilers: Set around/slightly before "Trash".
Warnings: Gratuitous Mandarin; character death
Summary: A narrow escape, a truth revealed, and a small comeuppance had.
****
Tasted of Desire
"Go, go, go!" Bridget hissed between gritted teeth, one hand firm and implacable on the small of Monty's back as she hustled him across the airstrip, the other holding a pistol ready to fire if anyone approached them.
"You sure about this, love?" Monty inquired. He, too, was armed; they ran toward his ship as quickly as they could, though the thickening blanket of ash raining down from the sky made it slow going.
"Not entirely," Bridget confessed. "But we have to get off ruttin' Osiris, don't we? I don't trust Pearl Chen, but we're taking her along with us. She'd make sure those clearance codes work to save her own hide."
"You dao li," Monty replied. [1]
"Of course it does," Bridget said tersely. They ran up the lowered loading bay door. Monty slapped the button that brought the door up behind them. Bridget coughed as she whipped off the scarf tied around her face, then spat greyish phlegm into the cloth. She grumbled, "Tzao-gao," as she wadded it up in her fist. Her worried blue gaze shifted to her husband; she hoped that he hadn't seen that. [2]
"Get us out of here," Monty barked into the comm unit. The scarf he wore -- another one of hers, blue-green under the smears of volcanic ash -- was still tied around his mouth and nose, but his deep voice was loud enough that the words were barely muffled.
She needn't have worried. He was focused on the ship now. Said ship shuddered as the initial rockets fired, before the gravity compensators kicked in and steadied the ship's motion. Bridget coughed a few more times, trying to dislodge the thickness she felt in her throat, but gave up after a moment and made her way toward the ship's bridge.
The ship climbed steadily, outpacing the others of their ilk who hadn't thought to take precautions like shielding their intakes. Bridget lost her footing as the ship swerved sharply to the left and tilted upward, landing with a bang against the hatch to a bunk. The crew shouted and cursed.
"Bao quian, da jia!" [3] Zamora Ling, the pilot, sang out over the intercom, "Just keeping us out of our graves!"
"Throwing us into 'em, more like!" One of the engineers shouted back.
"Well, you take it up with the sorry fools that just had their engines blow up, Mister Sibeal!" Zamora retorted. The ship leveled out and resumed its smooth upward rise.
Face set in a snarl and fighting the urge to double over and hack her lungs out, Bridget got to her feet again. As the captain's wife, she was a familiar sight on the bridge, so no one would have stopped her if she passed them. And something, some instinct or premonition, told her that she'd better be on the bridge when they broke atmo. Bridget hadn't survived as long as she had by ignoring her instincts.
****
Pearl Chen was already on the bridge by the time that she made it there. 'Nasty, cheap woman,' Bridget thought disdainfully -- Monty had brought her on because she knew her way around programming and data, but when it came to dealing with people, she was hopeless. Pearl, who smelled unbathed going on a week, was nervously chewing on a lock of her own greasy-looking hair and watching as Zamora deftly guided the ship through the atmosphere. Bridget didn't stop her nose from wrinkling with disgust.
"What's the what, boss lady?" Pearl asked, in her usual bland tone of voice.
"Just worried about getting off this gorram planet, Chen."
Pearl had the irritating habit of making sounds through her nose; at Bridget's response, she broke into a snuffling laugh that trailed off into a sniffle. "Right to worry, I 'spose." She gestured, with a hand adorned with nails bitten to the quick, at the rapidly receding view of Osiris as seen out of the grey-streaked, grimy main windows.
The supervolcano that marred the main continent of Osiris glowed like the baleful eye of an angry dragon, the only light on a landmass that once swam with man-made structures and illumination. Jagged lightning danced in the ash-choked sky. Bridget knew that acid rain was starting to pour down in addition to the ash. Luckily, they were above the cloud cover that showered those unlucky enough to remain on the surface. A Firefly-class ship that had taken off only fifteen minutes after them was caught in the downpour. Bridget caught sight of the scarring and pitting that grew worse even as she watched, until they were too far. A moment later, the pindot speck that the Firefly had become bloomed into an orangey explosion spattered with blue flame.
"Uh, Pearlie, be a doll and hop over to that Cortex console." Zamora suggested. He grinned at the two women and explained, "Alliance is asking for our clearance."
Bridget scoffed. "Fact that the planet and sundry's melting ain't clearance enough?"
"Not if they think we're the undesirable sort we really are, Miz Bridget," Zamora responded, sounding amused.
Pearl quickly typed the commands to send the codes. She'd hacked the Alliance outpost in the days leading up the Osiris evacuation, the first time that the Nekhebit Caldera had set the local geologists scurrying. There was some Alliance higher-up who wouldn't be getting off Osiris; Pearl wasn't sure who, since she'd selected the dupe at random, and she didn't really care to know.
"Niou-se!" Pearl cried out. [4]
"Pearlie, don't you say that... nothing good ever happens when you talk like that..." Zamora hissed.
"They aren't accepting the codes!"
"Chou diyu biaozi!" [5] Bridget screamed at Pearl, "Monty trusted you to get us out of here! What the hell use are you if you can't even do that?"
Zamora opened the intercom channel again and said, "Captain, you want to get to the bridge right about now..."
"Hey! This isn't my fault! Says here someone else already gave the code..." Pearl typed back a response, or started to. She let out a yelp as Bridget grabbed her by one shoulder and tossed her out of the chair.
"What in the hell is going on here?" Monty demanded, walking onto the bridge just in time to see his wife manhandling their latest passenger.
Before anyone could answer, the Alliance cruiser above them fired several shots across the nose of the ship. Shocked, Zamora jerked the controls too roughly, and the ship tumbled aft. Bridget wrapped her arms around the console's chair in a death-grip; Zamora himself was held in by his restraints. Monty and Pearl were flung unceremoniously about. Pearl screamed in fear, a sound that cut off abruptly as her head impacted the main window at a sharply unnatural angle.
****
Bridget slammed a fist on the Cortex console, activating the video screen. When the screen snapped on with a view of the communications officer for the Alliance ship, she shouted furiously, "If you want to explain to Durran Haymer that you blew up his wife, go right ahead and fire on us again!"
"Wife?!" Monty growled. Bridget shot him a look -- half-annoyance, half-pleading -- and turned back to the Cortex screen.
"Let us through! The codes are good! If someone else used them, it's because they stole them from us!"
The officer's expression did not change. He turned to the right and spoke with someone in a low voice that their poor connection did not pick up. After a moment, he turned back and commanded, "You're granted temporary clearance while Haymer is contacted. Join the evacuation at the coordinates provided. Sending now."
Bridget turned off the video link, bringing them back to the sound-only that Pearl had started with.
"Received and proceeding." Zamora responded. He glanced between Bridget and the captain, and limited the communications with the Alliance ship to his own headset. This was a wise decision.
"Wife?" Monty repeated in a dangerous tone.
"Monty..." Bridget said, in a sweet, coaxing voice, "Honey bear, please let me explain..."
"Wife?"
"Hate to break up this marital spat," Zamora said through gritted teeth, "but maybe you could reschedule for after you check whether Pearl's still breathing? And after we get the hell away from the major weaponry?"
"Oh, that bitch is dead," Bridget said, waving one hand dismissively.
Monty raised an eyebrow; to him, this was definitely out of character for his wife. But was it really? He moved her out of the way -- gently, of course; he might be angry with her, but she was still a delicate girl that a big man like him was used to being gentle around -- and knelt at the side of Pearl's still, sprawled form. Two fingers at the side of her throat, and after a moment he confirmed her assessment.
"I've got the perfect crime lined up, baby," Bridget cooed, coming up behind him and wrapping her arms around his shoulders. "A million square job; the big time."
Just because one world was ending didn't mean that the rest of the Core stopped being ripe to steal from.
Bridget tried to speak again, but this time -- for a long time -- her words were shattered by hacking coughs. Monty held her, though he had his doubts, and wondered whether either of them had escaped unscathed.
END
Mandarin translations:
[1] You dao li -- That makes sense; that's reasonable.
[2] Tzao-gao -- crap; dammit
[3] Bao quian, da jia -- Sorry, everyone!
[4] Niou-se -- Cow-dung
[5] Chou diyu biaozi! -- Stinking whore in hell
Note: I did try to make sure this was right... but I did get it from several different sources on the Internet, so there may be some discrepancies.
Also, that wasn't OUR Firefly on Osiris. Mal was staying away from the Core at this point in the series, remember? ^_^
There was a big delay getting this out. The story did NOT want to cooperate initially, so I let the mods know and took on a prompt from someone else. I so did not expect that the pinch hitter would drop out, too. So I basically Niska-ed my muse until she came out with this... not exactly what you were expecting, I think, but I hope2ndary_author likes it anyway.
Title: Tasted of Desire
Author: D.L.SchizoAuthoress (
schizoauthoress)Recipient:
2ndary_authorFandom: Firefly/Serenity
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1546
Spoilers: Set around/slightly before "Trash".
Warnings: Gratuitous Mandarin; character death
Summary: A narrow escape, a truth revealed, and a small comeuppance had.
****
Tasted of Desire
"Go, go, go!" Bridget hissed between gritted teeth, one hand firm and implacable on the small of Monty's back as she hustled him across the airstrip, the other holding a pistol ready to fire if anyone approached them.
"You sure about this, love?" Monty inquired. He, too, was armed; they ran toward his ship as quickly as they could, though the thickening blanket of ash raining down from the sky made it slow going.
"Not entirely," Bridget confessed. "But we have to get off ruttin' Osiris, don't we? I don't trust Pearl Chen, but we're taking her along with us. She'd make sure those clearance codes work to save her own hide."
"You dao li," Monty replied. [1]
"Of course it does," Bridget said tersely. They ran up the lowered loading bay door. Monty slapped the button that brought the door up behind them. Bridget coughed as she whipped off the scarf tied around her face, then spat greyish phlegm into the cloth. She grumbled, "Tzao-gao," as she wadded it up in her fist. Her worried blue gaze shifted to her husband; she hoped that he hadn't seen that. [2]
"Get us out of here," Monty barked into the comm unit. The scarf he wore -- another one of hers, blue-green under the smears of volcanic ash -- was still tied around his mouth and nose, but his deep voice was loud enough that the words were barely muffled.
She needn't have worried. He was focused on the ship now. Said ship shuddered as the initial rockets fired, before the gravity compensators kicked in and steadied the ship's motion. Bridget coughed a few more times, trying to dislodge the thickness she felt in her throat, but gave up after a moment and made her way toward the ship's bridge.
The ship climbed steadily, outpacing the others of their ilk who hadn't thought to take precautions like shielding their intakes. Bridget lost her footing as the ship swerved sharply to the left and tilted upward, landing with a bang against the hatch to a bunk. The crew shouted and cursed.
"Bao quian, da jia!" [3] Zamora Ling, the pilot, sang out over the intercom, "Just keeping us out of our graves!"
"Throwing us into 'em, more like!" One of the engineers shouted back.
"Well, you take it up with the sorry fools that just had their engines blow up, Mister Sibeal!" Zamora retorted. The ship leveled out and resumed its smooth upward rise.
Face set in a snarl and fighting the urge to double over and hack her lungs out, Bridget got to her feet again. As the captain's wife, she was a familiar sight on the bridge, so no one would have stopped her if she passed them. And something, some instinct or premonition, told her that she'd better be on the bridge when they broke atmo. Bridget hadn't survived as long as she had by ignoring her instincts.
****
Pearl Chen was already on the bridge by the time that she made it there. 'Nasty, cheap woman,' Bridget thought disdainfully -- Monty had brought her on because she knew her way around programming and data, but when it came to dealing with people, she was hopeless. Pearl, who smelled unbathed going on a week, was nervously chewing on a lock of her own greasy-looking hair and watching as Zamora deftly guided the ship through the atmosphere. Bridget didn't stop her nose from wrinkling with disgust.
"What's the what, boss lady?" Pearl asked, in her usual bland tone of voice.
"Just worried about getting off this gorram planet, Chen."
Pearl had the irritating habit of making sounds through her nose; at Bridget's response, she broke into a snuffling laugh that trailed off into a sniffle. "Right to worry, I 'spose." She gestured, with a hand adorned with nails bitten to the quick, at the rapidly receding view of Osiris as seen out of the grey-streaked, grimy main windows.
The supervolcano that marred the main continent of Osiris glowed like the baleful eye of an angry dragon, the only light on a landmass that once swam with man-made structures and illumination. Jagged lightning danced in the ash-choked sky. Bridget knew that acid rain was starting to pour down in addition to the ash. Luckily, they were above the cloud cover that showered those unlucky enough to remain on the surface. A Firefly-class ship that had taken off only fifteen minutes after them was caught in the downpour. Bridget caught sight of the scarring and pitting that grew worse even as she watched, until they were too far. A moment later, the pindot speck that the Firefly had become bloomed into an orangey explosion spattered with blue flame.
"Uh, Pearlie, be a doll and hop over to that Cortex console." Zamora suggested. He grinned at the two women and explained, "Alliance is asking for our clearance."
Bridget scoffed. "Fact that the planet and sundry's melting ain't clearance enough?"
"Not if they think we're the undesirable sort we really are, Miz Bridget," Zamora responded, sounding amused.
Pearl quickly typed the commands to send the codes. She'd hacked the Alliance outpost in the days leading up the Osiris evacuation, the first time that the Nekhebit Caldera had set the local geologists scurrying. There was some Alliance higher-up who wouldn't be getting off Osiris; Pearl wasn't sure who, since she'd selected the dupe at random, and she didn't really care to know.
"Niou-se!" Pearl cried out. [4]
"Pearlie, don't you say that... nothing good ever happens when you talk like that..." Zamora hissed.
"They aren't accepting the codes!"
"Chou diyu biaozi!" [5] Bridget screamed at Pearl, "Monty trusted you to get us out of here! What the hell use are you if you can't even do that?"
Zamora opened the intercom channel again and said, "Captain, you want to get to the bridge right about now..."
"Hey! This isn't my fault! Says here someone else already gave the code..." Pearl typed back a response, or started to. She let out a yelp as Bridget grabbed her by one shoulder and tossed her out of the chair.
"What in the hell is going on here?" Monty demanded, walking onto the bridge just in time to see his wife manhandling their latest passenger.
Before anyone could answer, the Alliance cruiser above them fired several shots across the nose of the ship. Shocked, Zamora jerked the controls too roughly, and the ship tumbled aft. Bridget wrapped her arms around the console's chair in a death-grip; Zamora himself was held in by his restraints. Monty and Pearl were flung unceremoniously about. Pearl screamed in fear, a sound that cut off abruptly as her head impacted the main window at a sharply unnatural angle.
****
Bridget slammed a fist on the Cortex console, activating the video screen. When the screen snapped on with a view of the communications officer for the Alliance ship, she shouted furiously, "If you want to explain to Durran Haymer that you blew up his wife, go right ahead and fire on us again!"
"Wife?!" Monty growled. Bridget shot him a look -- half-annoyance, half-pleading -- and turned back to the Cortex screen.
"Let us through! The codes are good! If someone else used them, it's because they stole them from us!"
The officer's expression did not change. He turned to the right and spoke with someone in a low voice that their poor connection did not pick up. After a moment, he turned back and commanded, "You're granted temporary clearance while Haymer is contacted. Join the evacuation at the coordinates provided. Sending now."
Bridget turned off the video link, bringing them back to the sound-only that Pearl had started with.
"Received and proceeding." Zamora responded. He glanced between Bridget and the captain, and limited the communications with the Alliance ship to his own headset. This was a wise decision.
"Wife?" Monty repeated in a dangerous tone.
"Monty..." Bridget said, in a sweet, coaxing voice, "Honey bear, please let me explain..."
"Wife?"
"Hate to break up this marital spat," Zamora said through gritted teeth, "but maybe you could reschedule for after you check whether Pearl's still breathing? And after we get the hell away from the major weaponry?"
"Oh, that bitch is dead," Bridget said, waving one hand dismissively.
Monty raised an eyebrow; to him, this was definitely out of character for his wife. But was it really? He moved her out of the way -- gently, of course; he might be angry with her, but she was still a delicate girl that a big man like him was used to being gentle around -- and knelt at the side of Pearl's still, sprawled form. Two fingers at the side of her throat, and after a moment he confirmed her assessment.
"I've got the perfect crime lined up, baby," Bridget cooed, coming up behind him and wrapping her arms around his shoulders. "A million square job; the big time."
Just because one world was ending didn't mean that the rest of the Core stopped being ripe to steal from.
Bridget tried to speak again, but this time -- for a long time -- her words were shattered by hacking coughs. Monty held her, though he had his doubts, and wondered whether either of them had escaped unscathed.
END
Mandarin translations:
[1] You dao li -- That makes sense; that's reasonable.
[2] Tzao-gao -- crap; dammit
[3] Bao quian, da jia -- Sorry, everyone!
[4] Niou-se -- Cow-dung
[5] Chou diyu biaozi! -- Stinking whore in hell
Note: I did try to make sure this was right... but I did get it from several different sources on the Internet, so there may be some discrepancies.
Also, that wasn't OUR Firefly on Osiris. Mal was staying away from the Core at this point in the series, remember? ^_^
There was a big delay getting this out. The story did NOT want to cooperate initially, so I let the mods know and took on a prompt from someone else. I so did not expect that the pinch hitter would drop out, too. So I basically Niska-ed my muse until she came out with this... not exactly what you were expecting, I think, but I hope
2ndary_author likes it anyway.![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
on 2010-05-19 00:21 (UTC)no subject
on 2010-05-19 02:01 (UTC)no subject
on 2010-05-19 22:17 (UTC)