Take one Flamingo

So yeah. We've all gone totally mad.

Tempus Fugit

Time passes, whether we want it to or not. Here in Blackburne it almost seems compressed in some strange way. Familiar faces depart, to be replaced by new ones. Feels like everything is always in some state of flux… even for me, that’s somewhat stressful. Seems like Immi is getting hitched. I’m happy for her, but I hope it doesn’t take her away from here. She’s always fun to have around, and commuting between here and Hale’s isn’t exactly the most convenient or safest journey in the world.

Haven’t been so well of late, and it’s been a drag. I’ve been leavin’ the bar early, as I’m just falling asleep. I hate this, but things can always be worse. A couple of the girls here have promised to pray for me, and all I can say is that I’m touched. I’ve not always been a prayin’ kind of guy, though the expression there ain’t no atheists in foxholes is, I can tell you first hand, true. Notwithstanding, I’ve often felt there’s a spiritual side of life – a side that we really don’t have such a good handle on. I liked it when the Shepherd was around; haven’t seen him for a long time. Reckon we could do with more of him about

Now it Starts...

So, now it starts.

A few days ago I was feeling uneasily peaceful, and knew storm clouds were gathering. And I was incredibly prescient: x0 has started killing people with her mind again.

I say again, because there’s a history here, but let me start in the present. Last night, as we sat in the bar, she walked up to a patron, all smiling, and boom… seconds later the guy is laying a in a pool of bright red blood. He’s seriously injured, and if it weren’t for Chol, wouldn’t have made it.

Chol insisted (asked is too small a word for it) that I take her over to the shelter. He’s a good man, I just think he needed some time to think. Eventually he came over, and she tried the same thing on me, just to see what would happen. Again, I was seriously hurt, while Chol, Amyla and Imrhien just looked on. I just lay there, until I could carry myself to the med center.

I’m worried. If this starts going, she’ll not be welcome here real fast. As it is, I fear that the Alliance will redouble their efforts to get hold of her.

Imrhien’s also going to bring a whole world of trouble down on us. She’s foolin’ around with a young LT. All he needs to do is see x0 in action and a whole verse of trouble is going land on her heads. Foolish girl; she’s lonely, it don’t take a rocket scientist to see that, but the LT, we’ll he’s working the wrong side of the street. It’s going lead to trouble of the kind that goes “boom”. I’m tempted to haul x0 onto the nearest ship and make a run for it, but I don’t see it doing a whole lot of good. Ain’t no hiding from the trouble that’s comin’. Might as well meet it head on.

All in?

Something’s not right. This is all too easy. It’s like waiting for something to break, like the painfully sweet honeyed light before a storm. Are the clouds already swirling above me, waiting to lash me with their fury? Or is it all in my mind?

I’m too comfortable here. Too comfortable by far.

No fear in me for myself, it’s for these folk. Good people. I’ve gotten far too attached to them all, living on this little shard of rock, hacking out a home with not a lot more than their hands and determination. I can’t be effective like this. But I can’t fully step in, and I won’t step away.

Dust

It’s amazing how quickly things move back to some semblance of normality. A few days ago my world was in flux, and now it’s not. Everything has moved back to its happy equilibrium, and life in Blackburne continues onward. I got my leg fixed, x0 has started getting her memory back, Nack’s telling bad puns… yes, it’s mostly business as usual.

I say mostly because there’s been another ship crash in Downing. I’m not a big one for coincidences, but it doesn’t smell right to me. Amyla has been fretting about her family ever since, and seems to be threatening to head out there. I hope she doesn’t. I have a bad feeling about it. We’re a mighty vociferous bunch here on Blackburne, but I don’t fancy bein’ involved in a raid to Downing. I don’t see many of us coming back, and I could do without a reality check like that. Of course, I have a sinking feeling that if she goes, she’ll end up stuck there. I can’t imagine Chol being too happy about that. Another thing to worry about, but nothing that I can do anything about. I guess it really is back to the status quo, isn’t it?

Within myself, I’m struggling. Is this all there is? I feel so purposeless. Aimless. Like a speck of dust floating around a room, caught in a shaft of sunlight. I need to kick myself out of this rut, yet there’s no rut really to speak of. I’ve just gotten back, I helped stop a war, I have an injury to nurse. Why do I expect to cram so much into so little time? And yet even in this pause for breath, this little inhalation of life, I crave movement. So much to think about.

Collateral Damage

I think my most pressing problem is solved, but it’s been intense. I think I’ve also entered into a whole new relationship with the Alliance… it’s been a busy time. All I can do right now is watch my hands shake. It’s like combat. When the bullets are flying there is no time to reflect, it’s simply act or die. It’s afterward that you pay the price. That’s where I am now.

After picking up Shadowbroker’s ASREV, I made a very interesting discovery. The documents stolen from Woodhen’s office were still in it. He never had a buyer for them, they were simply a pretext to get x0x0 along for the ride. From the seal on the envelope, they hadn’t even been opened. No doubt he told her some story about “the merchandise arriving intact” or some such nonsense.

Upon returning to Blackburne, it’s been very difficult. X0x0 is not acting like herself; her head injury seems to have triggers a certain instability which is actually quite unnerving. She tends to draw her weapon for no particular reason, and is often to be found away from the main action, sitting and fiddling. She’s nervous, but she doesn’t know of what.

Things looked bad when we landed, as Woodhen was on the warpath. He wanted his documents, and he wanted them now. I made contact, and we had a tense meeting at Firefly’s to hand them over. He – reluctantly – agreed to make sure x0’s name was clear, though in essence his response was “I’m not doing this – I already know she’s innocent”. Whether he’s simply misled (unlikely) or saving face (much more likely) it’s the end result I’m after. X0 is free to travel again, though I think both Chol and Amyla think that’s a bad idea. Like many things in life though, being able to and choosing not to is very different from having the rules dictated to you.

Those are the facts, but they’re much less important than the feelings. I find it hard to believe I’m thinking that, but I am. What’s happening here? All my training is about objective handling of the “situation”. Now, I find myself more concerned with the feelings and relationships that I’m immersed in. Immersed. Even that would seems wrong. I’m confused. Deeply.

Like most things, I suspect that things will seem clearer from a distance. That’s going to happen shortly, as I need to hitch a ride somewhere to have my leg repaired. The infection Chol is handling, but the nerve damage is going to require a much bigger facility than found on a moon like this. It means a core planet, and I’m not exactly flavor of the month in Downing. Even if I were, finding a ride might not be easy. Maybe a conversation with Abi or Imr is in order.

Leaking

Sitting in a half-working ship watching myself bleed out onto the floor is not how I had planned this to go. Not at all. Even my best efforts failed to predict what was going to happen… dismally, as it turns out. One unplanned twist and it’s all busted.

In the end, tracking x0x0 on Whitefall turned out to be a lot easier than I thought: it was more like tracking Alliance activity. I knew approximately where she was by triangulating transmissions, and once I was close, it was pretty easy – just had to follow the sounds of gunfire and explosions. When I laid eyes upon the situation, it seemed pretty manageable to a loose cannon like me. They were pinned down, fighting it out with a bunch of green Alliance troopers who had obviously been told to get x0x0 alive at all costs. She’d taken a couple of bangs and scrapes but seemed to be none the worse for wear.

With large numbers and the upper hand the Alliance commander was getting lazy. He knew that there was no way x0 was getting off-world, and could just wait it out. No need to throw more lives at the problem. So, he’d sat back, and just was having his men fire off the occasional potshot. A couple of smoke bombs and some sleeping gas and voila… chaos. I ambled in, saw her ride had taken a round in the head, and picked her up, running through the smoke to safety.
I had already scouted my ride, a busted up ASREV in a junk yard. Just needed a new catalyzer, that I could acquire using my skills – that is, cold hard cash. It was on the way there with her thrown over my shoulder that things went wrong. x0x0 woke up, mumbled, pulled a large knife from her vest and stabbed me in the leg. Deeply.

Needless to say, I fell, from the shock and from her weight shifting unexpectedly on my shoulders. She went down pretty hard, banging her head real good, and she’s still out now. Aside from a nasty bump on the forehead she seems none the worse for wear. I dragged her into the ASREV and we broke atmo. That leaves me here. Gorram girl has hit an artery and I can’t control the bleeding so well. Feel faint, but I have to stay awake and try and get something on this to stop the bleeding.

The only sound here is the rumble of the engines and the drip, drip, drip of my life running out onto the floor. Thank goodness there’s some supplies on this ship. I found a few half nibbled protein bars in the console; I’ll eat as soon as I do what I really don’t want to: open up this wound and try and clip it.

Ugh.

Problems

This isn’t working out as I planned it, and I’m not sure what to do. We made landfall (pretty much literally… I’m glad to be of that rusting bucket of bolts) and my investigations have revealed that Svenska left Whitefall alone on an outbound freighter two days ago. Paid his ride handsomely from what I’ve heard. But alone.

So, I know he got paid. That would tend to mean he’s made his delivery. Yet I’m confused by the alone. Folks around here don’t turn their acquaintances over easily it appears. Money opened the mouth of some… a promise of hell on earth seemed to work better on others. I know where he was on planet, and I know there’s been some Alliance activity in the area. There’s really two choices: x0x0 is back with the Alliance, or she’s on the run. If it’s the former, well, that’ll be mighty interesting. If it’s the latter… well, that’s going to get a mite interesting too, but there’s more I can do from there.

I’m “borrowing” a speeder and heading out there. Time to gear up and get ready to make some noise.

Time on my Hands

One thing travelling on a bucket of junk like this is time... there's really nothing to do but sit and think. The Captain is keeping an eye on me, and it's still a while until we make it in to Whitefall. My only real occupation is to make sure I keep playing my little "I'm a dumb low-class - and above all else, uninteresting - smuggler" role, and making sure that nobody gets curious as to what I'm smuggling, because they'd sure have a shock to see the little stockpile of very high-tech weapons I'm travelling with. I suspect when I catch up with x0x0 there'll be shooting and explosions of one form or another, and I have no intent on getting whacked by anyone. The best motto for combat: get your retribution in first.

Sitting on top of my little crate in the hold, I've gotten to watch some of the other misfits on this ship. There are two children on board, who on occasion run screaming twixt the cargo, throwing a ball around. When they see me watching, they run off, or are lead away by their shrew-like Mother. She doesn’t like me, I can tell; she wouldn't like me even not in this smuggler garb. I asked her where she was heading, and she just looked at me and walked away.

Others on the ship are mostly drifting their way across the verse. Some honest workers and settlers, in a for nasty surprise when they reach their new Eden. Mostly roughnecks though, who can read the look in my eye and stay well clear. Out here, it feels like we're just flotsam, bobbing around, waiting for an island to wash up on.

I'm starting to think about seeing x0x0 again. With further reflection, I'm now sure I'm right. Svenksa's bound to head to Whitefall, the challenge will be working out where he'll put down. That said, he's such a creature of habit. If I was him I'd head back to familiar ground. Somewhere private, but in public. Somewhere where there's a strong incentive for his buyers to not cause a scene. Somewhere where he can't get sniped from a distance... and that, to Svenska, is going to mean a bar. I'll have to work out which when I get planetside. I do know that he isn't going to be pleased to see me; my loose plan is to stay at a distance and only step in if things look bad...

Travelling Light

As I sit here listening to the low rumble of our engines, I have to question my analysis. I knew x0x0 was seriously thinking about heading out, but my sense was it was another of her wild schemes that would come to nothing. When Amyla told me at Firefly's she had left, I was shocked. I still am. I thought I had more time.

As is my habit, I'm getting ahead of myself. This morning - or possibly evening, who knows, time is pretty arbitrary out here - finds me installed in a cargo bay, passing myself off as a smuggler. A petty smuggler; one who won't attract the attention of the Alliance, but one who's prepared to pay a little more for a bit of privacy on the trip. I jumped the ship I'm on in Persephone by allowing the greedy captain to think he was playing me, overpaying some for the flight. I'm heading out to Whitefall, on a pure guess. I hope I'm right.

Saturday night was a night like almost every other. x0 and I were dancing and joking, and then she got a wave. She bolted right out from there, and, far as I can tell, jumped on Shadowbroker's ship to Downing. From there, it's conjecture, but I'm pretty sure I'm right. That evening, the governor's offices got burgled, and some "papers" of an unspecified nature went missing. Now, Blue Sun and the Alliance are in hot pursuit of the thieves. I think Svenska's being set up, but I'm not sure why. I do know that meathead is going to want to fence his papers somewhere familiar, and somewhere out of the way... and that means Whitefall. That's what I'm banking on. People are creatures of habit, and that shagua is no exception. I've got no choice, so I have to be right.

It's funny how the training takes over at times like this. The folks at Firefly's wouldn't recognize me right now. No drink, no suit, hair unkempt, and armed to the teeth. I hope I'm right. I hope that I can extricate x0 before the inevitable hole in Svenska's plan becomes obvious. But for now, all I can do is wait and watch the miles spin past.

Contractions

The strangest thing happened to me the other night. I was over at Firefly’s, to make sure that x0x0 was still on planet, and I got cornered by a few of the locals – mostly Imrhien and Amyla, two people who have befriended x0x0 and I. Imrhien has a wonderfully direct streak to her, and asked me if I loved x0x0. I was shocked, and naturally, didn’t give a straight answer. Finessing Imrhien’s direct questions, I slipped away into the night.

Two things strike me as I lay awake staring up at the ceiling. First, as I think of these folks, I think of “Amy” and “Imr”… I’m contracting their names. Now, that doesn’t sound much, but usually when I think of people I’m more concerned with whether they are a red dot or a blue dot on my data pad. The idea of contracting names is alien to me, and the fact that I consider it at all tells me I’ve been in one place too long. Maybe it’s time to move on, but that’s really not up to me.

But all of this pales in comparison to the question of my feelings. Feelings. Even the word feels strange in my mouth, as I roll it around like some strange fruit, tasting its peculiar mix of sweet and tart. Do I love x0x0? Even the question feels like a non sequitur… it’s like I’ve been staring at a set of random dots for days, and everyone around me sees them as 3-dimensional vase. It’s not an idea that’s been in my universe. I’m confused.

And to add to this, she’s still threatening to head out on a “job” with some ben tiansheng de yidui rou. I could curse all night, and still not get out how angry I feel.

And there I stop. Feel. For years, I’ve tried not to feel a thing. And now it seems to be all I care about.

Confusion

I'm not sure how I got here. Not really. Not planned, but is anything anymore? All I know is I'm here. A barren rock, contaminated from one too many battle. Shadowing Zhangsun. Again.

Let me back up, because I'm sure this is all very confusing. It has been a while since I've been in one place long enough to even think about getting my thoughts in order. The last few years - more than I'd care to mention, to be honest about it - have been a blur. Training, combat, recruits. So many different stories to tell. But there I am disgressing again.

What matters are the changes; my great fall from grace. From the being apple of their eye to simply a tool, a pawn on the chessboard, to be moved or sacrificed on a whim. Just a pawn, but even so I seem to have great value to them, because here I am, breathing. Too much value I guess to just throw away. And so they wait, to see where I stand. To see if this is all just some ruse, some wheel within a wheel of a higher up. Well, they can wait. I don't plan on running out of time any time soon.

Life here is strange, so different from before. I've fallen in with a bunch of misfits and rebels, scraping out a livin' on a bitter piece of moon.

Everything here's contaminated. Kari, one of the folks making a home out of the place laments that she's heard that green isn't bad everywhere. Here, you see something green, you keep on walking... away from it, if you've got instincts for survival. Yet these people have a heart that I've not seen in a long time. A heart that is earily familiar to the one that I thought I had in my own chest, before the... well, just before.

I do know I respect these people; I haven't felt like an outcast here, they've welcomed me based on my actions, and haven't pried about my history. Like the past matters; all that matters now is the future. And that's why I'm here. For the future. Shadowing Zhangsun.