So, I wrote this the other day, while my internet was out and I was bored out of my skull. I set it in the universe of the show Firefly for now, with a healthy dose of make-s**t-up, just for simplicities sake, but that'll change somewhere down the line in editing. I've got a setting I've been cooking up that this would fit in, but it was easier to do it this way for now.
I just wanted to put it up somewhere I could maybe get some good advice from outside my own mind. Read it if you like, tell me if you like it, what could be better, etc. It's kinda long, but, here goes.
The last flight was long, but I've finally made it home. To my own planet, anyway, with all the hicks and ranchers I know, instead of the soldiers and sergeants I don't. It'll be good to sleep in my own bed tonight, beside my wife. I can't believe I'm finally here! I told her I'd be back in my last letter, and I hope things have gone well in the month since the last I received. Well anyway, soldier's journal over, rancher's starting again tomorrow.
I signed and dated the entry, like I always do, and shut the small leather journal. I tucked it back in my duffel as I got out the first set of civvies I'd worn since the Alliance came looking for volunteers. They still fit me fine, even after three years of war. I guess I'd just always been lean and fit. Either that or I gained weight on the way home, but I didn't think so. Sometimes spaceflight made me nauseous, especially on big ships like the Alliance cruiser that made the drop.
Anyways, it was good to be dressed in something besides a uniform for once. Faded denim jeans, a long-sleeved, light colored shirt, and an old tattered scarf and a heavy leather coat to keep the dust of a cattle world out. And my hat, something no self-respecting rancher could forget, a modern remake of an old Earth Stetson, broken in from wear so it rode low and comfortable on my brow. I strapped my sidearm on under the jacket, a simple revolver, grabbed my bag, and strode out, through the inn, and into the street.
The town- City, I corrected myself- was way bigger than it used to be. Benefits of siding with the Alliance, I guess, instead of declaring independence. I didn't even recognize any of the shops here in downtown, but as long as things were the same as always on the outskirts, I'd be fine. Maybe it was too much to hope for everything to be the way it was before. I started down towards the east side, heading for a little place that was holding a few things of mine for my return.
OK, not exactly the same as I remembered, but enough to get where I needed on the edges. A little general store, it had always been there, right on the border between Hersten City and the plains outside. Family owned, too; Jimmy had inherited the place from his father, and his father had opened the shop to begin with. It was bigger than I remembered, almost twice the size. Apparently the war wasn't too bad for business, even on a planet as close to the front as Hersten.
A little bell rang, hanging from the door on a string as I walked in. At least that much was the same. There were weird things hanging on the walls, touristy decorations for sale, and too many kinds of guns and cattle feed for my liking. “Good morning sir, is there anything I can help you find?” I knew it was Jimmy before I turned around, still the kindly shopkeep. There was more grey in his hair than I remembered, and he was fatter than he used to be. Still just up to my eyes, but almost twice my girth. He looked at my face for a long second, then that plastic smile faded as recognition dawned on him, and a genuine grin split his face.
“Well I'll be damned! Cain Harrinton, back from the war and still all in one piece. Here to collect your gear, I take it?”
“Yessir,” I replied, cracking a smile myself. “Just need my rifle and that mule I left with you. Well, and a box of shells. Rifle's no good with no bullets, y'know?”
He smirked at that. “Y'always were an a*****e. Guess nothin's gonna change that. Just gimme a sec, I can get the rifle and the keys to the mule. Ammo's over there. Help yourself to a box.” He strode out the door behind the counter.
I went over to where he'd nodded towards, and grabbed myself a box of rounds for the .30-30. 49 rounds should be plenty for a while, especially if the alliance cops were better than the old Sheriff was. Especially if ranching paid better than it used to. I walked back and put the box on the counter, and waited.
He came back a minute later, and laid my rifle on the counter next to the box of shells. He handed me the keys. He held on to them for a second as I went to take them, and spoke softly, “Just ranching now the Alliance is here, y'hear? I cleaned up my act and don't fence no more, not since they hanged old man Cougar for it.”
“Nothin' but legit ranching this time, Jimmy,” I said, taking the keys from him.
He still looked concerned. “Well, if that don't pan out, come to me and I'll help find something else legit. Don't do anything stupid, not with Feds everywhere. And clean your gun before you go. It's been sitting for a couple years, and you don't want it to jam the first time you shoot it. Mule's waiting around back.”
I nodded, and walked out the door, bell ringing as I left. I went around back, and laid my pack across the back of the mule. Not like a farm animal. It's a four wheel ATV, useful on almost any terrain, found on any world in the Alliance or out. I sat on the back, and pulled out my cleaning kit, then started in on my rifle.
What was with the warning about cleaning my gun? The rest I got; he'd helped me out when I needed to do a little crime to help pay the bills, and it was too dangerous for that now. But why warn me to clean my gun? It had me worried. I reassembled the rifle and loaded it, then secured all my gear, the bags tied to the back, the rifle in a holster on the side.
The ride back to the ranch was uneventful. Low hills, tall grass, and empty roads. As much as the capital had grown, enough to be a city, there wasn't much sprawl. The city kept to itself, and the plains continued as far as the eye could see. Even as fast as I like to drive, it's a few hours out from the city, so it was almost noon by the time I got back.
Something was wrong, though. I could tell as soon as I cleared the last hill and saw the ranch on the horizon. I goosed the throttle, bouncing on the uneven ground as I raced home. I was still a minute or two out when I realized the problem. There was nothing there. The buildings hadn't changed since I'd left, but there were no people, no cattle to be seen. Nothing.
I pulled up hard in front of the house, jumped off with my rifle in my hands, and stormed into the house. I checked every room, and found nobody there, couldn't hear anything but the engine still running out front, my own breathing, ragged in the air. There was no sign of a struggle, just no sign of people either. The bed was made, clothes hanging in the closet, but the pantry was empty, and so was the barn when I checked there. No people, no cattle, no horses, no food. Nothing.
Maybe this was what Jimmy was warning me about. “If ranching don't pan out....” He knew. He knew! Why hadn't he told me? I spun and kicked the barn door shut, and something caught my eye out past the barn. I sprinted to it, hoping I was seeing it wrong, hoping this was all a nightmare. But I knew it was true, and I fell to my knees with a scream of anguish, my hands coming up to cover my face, to try and hide my pain.
There was a new headstone in the family plot.
I don't know how much time passed before I pulled myself together enough to stumble closer and read the headstone. Eliza Harrinton, April 12, 2566 - August 25, 2590. No epitaph, just her name and two dates. Why hadn't I been told? That was three weeks ago, about the time I'd received her last letter. My brother might not have known- he lived a couple hundred miles to the south. But the Alliance controlled records, including death certificates for the planet. They had to have known, and hadn't told me. And Jimmy....He ******** knew. I started to think I needed to go find some goddamn answers.
I strode back to the mule and killed the engine. Continuing into the house with my duffel, I stripped out of my clothes, leaving them on the floor behind me as I walked. Once I was upstairs and down to my shorts, I dumped out the bag on the floor, fishing through the pile of clothing for my drop uniform. Matte black and armored, it was more familiar now than the rancher's clothing, a second skin I'd hoped to put away for good now that the war was over. No such luck, evidently. Dressed again, I sat on the edge of the bed. First I'd go question Jimmy, find out exactly what he knew. From there, I didn't know. I don't even know why I'd gotten back into my Marine gear. I was going to ask questions, not make a freefall. I guess I just felt more like a soldier than anything else, now that I had nothing to lose.
It had been a couple of hours total since I'd arrived. The afternoon sun was growing lower in the sky. I climbed on the mule and started back towards the city, slowly this time. I wanted some time to gather my thoughts, time to regain control of my emotions. I didn't know what I'd do now. I didn't have enough money for more cattle, and it looked like the ranch hands had taken them when Eliza died. Hell, I couldn't afford to keep the ranch without the cattle, either. I hoped the hands had better luck then I did. I could always find work on a trader vessel. Once a Marine, Always a Marine,I thought bitterly. Fate had made that choice for me.
The sun sank below the horizon as the city came into view. Twilight was a deep purple, and faded to the black of a moonless night by the time I reached the city limits. I parked the mule in the same spot behind Jimmy's, and got off. I checked my revolver, then drew my rifle before sliding around to the front door. A sign hung in the door proclaiming the shop was closed. There were lights on, so I knocked anyway. Nobody answered, so I checked the door knob. Locked. I started to look around, and remembered I was dressed as an Alliance Marine anyway. Who the hell would question me? I kicked the door open.
It swung wide into the wall, splinters flying from the destroyed jamb. I brought my rifle to my shoulder as I strode in and cleared the room. Empty. The door behind the counter opened, and I swung towards it to see Jimmy emerging with a shotgun in his hands. “Drop it,” I said, calmly.
He froze as I spoke, gulped, and let the gun fall from his hands. “look, Cain, I had no choice! They told me not to say anything, and said-”
I cut him off with a glare as I lowered my rifle. “Too late for excuses now. Just tell me what you know. They can't do any worse than I will if you don't.”
He paled further. “Alright, alright, just put up your rifle and close the damn door.” He took a seat behind the bar as I went and shut the door as best I could with the broken frame. He had gotten a bottle of whiskey from somewhere before I came back, and took a heavy gulp as I sat on the end of the counter.
“It started about three weeks ago, closer to four. Your Eliza got sick, and was none too worried about. Figured it was just a chill, would pass in a few days, but it didn't. It just got worse, and she finally came into town to see a doctor, but by that time it was too late. She got to the hospital, and they said it was Inaran Flu. If she'd come to town even a day sooner, she would have been fine. As it was, she was beyond the pale, and all they could do was ease her suffering.
“The thing is, Inaran Flu is highly contagious. She must have infected someone, because cases started cropping up everywhere. By the end of it all, a handful of people had died, and a couple hundred had been infected. More than could have been caused by your Eliza, though, dangerous as flu is.”
He took another swig of the whiskey, and offered me the bottle. I took it, and a healthy swallow myself. “I've never heard of that disease happening out here,” I said.
“You wouldn't have,” he said. “It's an off-world disease. You only find it on a handful of worlds, and this ain't one of 'em. There've been some rumors that it was an experiment by one of them Alliance doctors, or that some god damn off-worlder brought it here. All that's been hushed up though. As far as I can tell, it might've been an experiment. I still have some underworld contacts, and that's the consensus there, that the Alliance did it. Or that BlueSun group there. There's rumors about them too.”
My hands clenched into fists. I'd heard rumors about things like this, but never imagined it happening here. Hell, I hadn't believed the Alliance did things like that to begin with. But there were so many rumors about it, and they hadn't told me she'd died. And Blue Sun....They'd had men on every cruiser, creepy men who kept to themselves. They were occasionally sent to recover high priority prisoners, or for interrogations. I could believe that of them.
I put the whiskey on the counter, and stood back up. “Well, I guess I'll be paying Blue Sun a little visit. Best keep your head down for a while.”
Blue Sun. Had those creepy bastards killed my wife as an experiment? I didn't know much about them, and recalled what I did know as I strode out into the street. Always in pairs, always with blue latex gloves. They seemed almost emotionless, cold, uncaring about anything but their mission. I never did understand why a private corporation had such strange men on military cruisers, but thats why I was a sergeant, not an officer.
Downtown was still crowded, so I skirted around it, keeping to the dark alleys surrounding it, where all I had to avoid were trashcans and hobos. The building I wanted was hard to miss. It was the tallest building in the city, with a big sign on the front with a drawing of a blue sun. There were still a lot of lights on inside, I guess they worked later than most offices. Maybe they were all as strange as the men I'd encountered.
All I'd really need to do was access their records. Which meant I'd need to get inside. I waited across from the entrance a little while, watching who came and went. It wasn't busy, just an occasional Alliance operative or soldier coming or going. They all at least had on full uniform and helmets, so I'd just need to ambush one and steal an ID badge and maybe his rank markings. I watched as one man emerged, and moved to follow as he walked away. I got close up behind him within a few hundred feet as he turned onto a secluded street, probably where his quarters were. I called out, “excuse me, officer?”
He turned to face me, and I whipped the butt of my rifle across into the side of his head. He grunted and collapsed to the pavement. I pried his helmet off, and found him out cold. I put his helmet on, and started to rifle through his pockets. His badge identified him as a Sergeant Carlos Teneca, Alliance Navy Marine. I tucked the badge into my pocket, and spoke softly to his unconscious form. “Sorry sergeant, but I'm gonna have to be you tonight. You just sleep tight, and everything'll work out fine, one Marine to another.”
I dragged his body into an alley, hid my rifle in a nearby trashcan, and took his with me back to the building. I strode in confidently, and scanned the card. The little light blinked green, and I walked into the main building. Nobody so much as took a second look at me, just another Marine guarding the place. I moved to the elevators, and hit the call button, looking at a list of floors as I waited. Biomedical Research: floor 19 – Restricted Access. Well damn, maybe this would be easy. The elevator doors opened, and I stepped inside, pressing the button for the 19th floor. The doors closed, and I was alone for the ride. I checked the rifle I'd taken; select fire, thirty round magazine with one extra clip, and the sergeant had taken good care of it. Hopefully this would be in and out, but it didn't hurt to come prepared.
The doors opened, and I had my first glimpse of the Biomedical Research Center. Nothing exciting. A couple labs down the end, lots of cubicles between here and there. Most of the cubes were empty, and there were no guards standing around. There was a surveillance camera, though, and a good one, able to watch half the room at a time. It was looking the other way, so I slipped into a cube and sat down, touching the screen to activate the computer panel. It was locked by an ID badge. Apparently I couldn't get that lucky. I started to rifle through the drawers, and actually found a spare badge in the bottom left. Apparently this was one scientist who was confident in the security.
I scanned the badge, and the computer came to life, displaying the scientist's most recent work. Nothing extravagant, something about a vaccine for some cattle parasite on a distant world. I closed that, and started to search through the other files. A query for flu turned up too much, and one for brain flu nothing, so I started to search manually. I tried a few folders, and came up with what I wanted in one titled local. A file called ranch 7/star port 63. As I read, it became clearer. They had infected ranch seven to see what would happen. So the ranch hands had died as well. I'd liked them. I'd loved Eliza. All reduced to digits in a report, because they were curious about the difference being from a different world would make on the immune response. I deleted the report from their network, and started to access the rest of the Alliance uplink.
I found the main record bank, and that this scientist had access to everything. I ran Eliza's name and DOB through the system, and it returned nothing. That was why I hadn't been informed. They'd deleted her records, like she'd never existed. All that was left was memories and a lonely gravestone. I ran up my own records. My birth records, my service records, my credit and medical histories, everything I could find with my name attached. I looked it over. My life, in the eyes of the Alliance. A series of numbers on a computer screen. The elevator made a ding as it arrived on the floor. I pressed the delete key and stood.
I watched for a second as the progress bar tracked across the screen, wiping all record of me from the database. The elevator door opened, and I looked over. My luck had finally caught up with me. It was the scientist whose cube I was using. “What the hell do you think you're doing?” He shouted. “Get away from there!”
I looked down. The files had finished deleting. I pulled the card, and stepped aside. “just checking my mail.” I said.
“Well, do it someplace else next time.” He sat down, and slid the badge in his hand in the machine, not noticing the other beside it. The report on the cattle parasite came back up. “Goddamn stupid jarheads...” he muttered to himself, trailing into silence.
I went to the elevator, and took it back to the lobby. There was some kind of commotion as I left the elevator, and a few Marines were gathered by the door, watching everyone leave, checking badges. There was one marine without a helmet there, and I recognized the sergeant whose card I had. Well, s**t. Walking out wasn't an option anymore.
Looked like I'd have to do it the old fashioned way. I move the selector on my rifle to full auto, and moved closer to the door. I stepped to the side, and made like I was watching people file out. I flicked the helmet radio on, and got a burst of static. Apparently I'd broken it when I hit the sergeant. No info that way, then. I waited for the flow of marines to slow a little, so there was only the three by the door, and one by the elevators. Figuring I wouldn't get a better shot, I brought my rifle up and scythed fire across the men at the door before they could run to cover. All three men were caught by the hail of bullets, and the glass front of the building shattered as well.
I broke into a run as the rifle clicked empty. The other marine opened fire as I dove out through the shattered window, breaking off more of the large shards hanging over me. Sprinting down the street, it was hard to reload, but I managed, and spun to fire a few more rounds back, just to deter pursuit. I don't think I hit anything but the building, but they had the sense to keep their heads down. I made it back to where I had hidden the sergeant, and took off the helmet, putting it and the assault rifle in the trashcan while I got my rifle out. An alarm was going off somewhere. I could hear men shouting orders, but nobody sounded too close. I looked around quickly. They saw where I'd run to. It was just a matter of time before they caught up. There was a drainpipe I could maybe climb. It would at least give me the twenty minutes or so until they got searchers in the air.
I climbed. It was a short climb, maybe thirty feet to the rooftops. The first marines arrived below as I lay flat on the roof. “This is where they found Teneca,” The sergeant said. “Search the place, look for any sign of him.” There was a chorus of yes, sergeant as they started to search. They found the gun and helmet in under a minute, and one ran to return them to Teneca. Apparently, I hadn't killed him. Either the armor was that good, or the gun that bad.
The marines were still searching when the operative arrived. They all stopped to salute, and he called them all to him. I could only hear a little of what he said, but it amounted to, “he wouldn't be here, that's just stupid, start searching door to door.”
They filed out, and started east, back towards downtown. I slid back down, and went west. It was late; it had to be close to ten or eleven, and all the shops were closed, though the bars were still open. That just meant there'd be nobody there to catch a thief. I moved fast to the west, outpacing the searchers, and slipped into a clothing store through an unlocked window. With so many officials around, nobody was afraid of theft anymore. I stripped out of my drop suit and grabbed some typical clothes, jeans and a loose off-white shirt. I slung my rifle, and grabbed a messenger bag to stuff my uniform into. I slipped back out the same window, and started back towards Jimmy's place.
People were milling around when I made it back to downtown. Bars were still open, and people were coming and going still. Marines were moving from door to door, bar to bar, looking for me. They had finally started stopping people and checking Ids, but their system was far from perfect, and I managed to avoid them as I made my way across the square.
Away from the crowds, lights were coming on despite the late hour. Between the gunfire and the searches, people were being woken up, and they were trying to find the source of all the commotion. I slipped past a patrol as they knocked on another door, and made my way to the shop.
The door was open when I got there, so I walked right in. The place was a little tussled, like the larger crates had been searched, and Jimmy was at the counter still, the bottle of whiskey half empty in his hand. “You the cause of all the commotion?” he asked. “I knew you was gonna do something stupid. And now what? Sit here and wait for 'em to come back, and nab me to? No, you get on outta here.”
“I don't plan on waitin' here,” I replied, “but out at the ranch. You still know some of the local scum, right? Get one of 'em with a ship to meet me out there in a couple hours. I got a few things to take care of, and I can meet them there. Hop on board, take off from the ranch, and we'd be home free. I try to leave from here, they'll catch me when my ID comes up with an identity that don't exist.” I passed him my cred card with my savings from the Corps. “That's all I got, but it should cover passage off world. And you can tell whoever that I'll work on the crew to stay on the ship.”
He nodded, and motioned for the door. I can do that much for you, at least. Best get gone now, though, before they start blockin the roads.”
I ducked back outside, and hopped on the mule around back, and started for the road headed east. Dammit! They were already setting up a checkpoint, but I still had a chance to get around it if I went quickly. They were assembling barricades on the right side, so I went to the left, hoping they wouldn't look my way.
“Hey! Stop there!” Someone hadn't listened to my prayers this time. Caught, I gunned out onto the plains, leaving the marine to yell at my back. Shots rang out, but he couldn't really see me in the dark, and they flew wide. I heard one ricochet off the back of the mule as I bounced over a low rise, but the fire stopped as I sped out towards home.
I'd been going for a while, I don't know how long, before I heard something following. Aerial, like I figured it would be, with a spotlight gaining on me from behind. I jerked the controls hard to left, and zig-zaged as I made the run home, trying to evade the revealing light. I'd be like a mouse to their cat if I was caught, toyed with a little and killed. The light was strafing back and forth, coming closer behind me. It swung out right of me, and I slowed long enough for them to pass. I gunned back to speed as they did, the roar of their engine deafening me until they pulled ahead far enough to fall out of earshot.
I rode a few hours in relative quiet, hearing only the engine of my own mule, until the ranch came into sight. It was hard to see in the darkness, but good and familiar. I slowed a little as I drew closer, and pulled up in front of the main house, killing the engine. But the noise didn't fully stop. Dammit, I should've known how much faster their mules would be! I ran into the house and upstairs, grabbed my duffel and jammed the clothing from the floor back in as fast as I could. The sky was starting to lighten, with dawn so near, and I heard the engines growing louder.
I walked outside then, the bag on my back and my rifle in my hands. I could see them approaching in the dim light of a false dawn. Two marines, riding their mules hard. They would have communicated the location to HQ by now, and have an airlift on the way. I walked over to the graveyard, and set my bag and rifle against the railing outside before I walked in. Eliza's headstone was easy to find, the newest one in the plot. I went over and knelt in front of it, taking the last few minutes before the Alliance caught me to pay my last respects more calmly than I had before.
It was uplifting, just to say goodbye, even if she was already gone. Being away so long, I guess I'd grown accustomed to being alone anyway. I'd just be alone a little longer now. She wouldn't have wanted me to pity myself like this though. She'd of kicked my a** for it. Time to pay the piper, then.
I heard them pull up behind me as I knelt on the soft ground. One of them cocked their rifle behind me, and called out for me to keep my hands where they could see them. I reached them up as high as I could, and one came forward, taking my revolver from my hip. An engine roared overhead, the airlift arriving, I guessed. It shone a searchlight on us, then set itself down just outside the fence. That light was blinding, and I couldn't tell what kind of ship it was. Just whatever got sent to a little backwater on the rise, I supposed.
The one who took my gun dragged my hands down, and cuffed them together behind my back. Tighter than was necessary, but I couldn't blame him. I had shot three of them. The two of them started to frog march me to the ship. We got close enough that the damned light was totally blinding as the sun came over the horizon, revealing the outline of the ship. Both marines gave a shout of alarm as a Firefly was revealed, not an Alliance ship. Several shots rang out, and I heard the marines grunt and collapse to the dirt.
The light finally went out, but most of my vision was still a purple blob. “You Cain?” Someone called from the ship.
“Yeah, Jimmy send you?”
“Yup. Grab your stuff and haul a** onboard. They aren't too far behind.”
I ran back, and sat next to my gear, bringing my bound hands around under my legs to the front of me, then sprang back up and grabbed my bag and rifle. I slung them both over my shoulder, and stopped by the marine who'd cuffed me. I took the cuff keys, and recovered my revolver. Then I ran to the ship, up onto the boarding ramp, and into the hold. The door closed behind me, as the ship started up into space.
And that's it. I know there are problems to fix, but maybe there are some I've overlooked. Please to have feed back if you've read this far?
EDIT: spaced it out for easier reading. I'll keep that in mind for future posts, too.
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