<span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 20pt;">The Line</span><br/><br/>“So you called her ‘The Line’. May I ask why?” The Colonel asked as they walked up the boarding ramp. The ship was venting Steam through her thrusters in preparation for takeoff and their feet where shrouded in dense, artificial fog.<br/><br/>“It’s the line we draw.” Captain Early replied. “It’s the line we stand on, the one we never surrender. It’s where we hold the tide. This ship<em>is</em>my freedom. And if they want it, they will have to take it from my cold, dead hands.”<br/><br/>Colonel Waters nodded as they walked into the cramped cargo bay. The Line was a rather big ship as far as colonial transports ran, twice the size of the common Firefly, but she wasn’t very roomy. As a former Alliance patrol boat, she was built for combat, not cargo.<br/><br/>One of the men was having trouble maneuvering the cargo mule around the stacked rolls of steel sheeting they were transporting. He would have to park it in a corridor somewhere. When the loading was complete, the cargo hold would be filled from floor to ceiling.<br/><br/>“Careful with that, Philemon!” Braxton shouted. “This stuff is supposed to be food grade, so don’t get any grease on them rolls!”<br/><br/>The Colonel raised an eyebrow.<br/><br/>“Good man, that one. Just no experience with mules. He worked our cause from the inside and got in trouble with the Alliance brass for it. So, when I bought the boat, he was fresh out of a job but with the right kind of attitude.”<br/><br/>“So what’s the cargo?”<br/><br/>“Steel sheeting. A clean hundred tons of it, plus packing, of course. We are bound for a cannery on Shadow.”<br/><br/>“Shadow…that’s almost home for you, isn’t it?”<br/><br/>“Close enough. I was born and raised on Summerfair.”<br/><br/>“But ain’t it a shame using a sleek ship like that for cargo! Are you even turning a profit?”<br/><br/>“It’s an easy job. Clean and legal. A milkrun. No complications, no Alliance. And we have to take jobs where we can find them if we want to keep The Line flying. And that was the deal, remember? You get me the ship cheap and I keep her flying until she is needed. Want to see the rest?”<br/><br/>“Sure.”<br/><br/><br/>Together, they walked up the stairs. On the gantry, overlooking the cargo hold, Richard was ticking off items on his clipboard.<br/><br/>“That’s Mr. Dawson, my first mate. Good man, too. The Alliance tax men took his family’s ranch. That’s the kind of pain we all can feel.”<br/><br/>Richard looked up from his clipboard for a moment and greeted Braxton with a short “Cap!”, before returning to his duties.<br/><br/>They got into the main corridor that led into the ship’s true interior. The heavy airlock door behind them slid closed halfway with a hydraulic hiss…and then ground to a halt. Braxton hit the button and it opened again. He set it to close and again, it got stuck halfway. The panel hiding the hydraulics vented steam, popped off the wall and fell to the floor. Just in that moment, a man in a T-shirt and jeans came around the corner.<br/><br/>“Lance, you lazy 放縱瘋狂的結・放纵疯狂的结 (fahng-tzong fung-kwong duh jeh)! You said you would get the airlock control fixed before we take off!”<br/><br/>“Well, to be fair, I don't see you taking off with a faulty airlock.”<br/><br/>“We take off in ten minutes! God, man! Take some pride in your work! She is your ship, too!”<br/><br/>"Well shit.  I thought it was an hour and ten minutes."  The engineer shrugged and put down his toolbox without any haste and examined the cables and hoses spewing out of the maintenance panel.  "I can do ten."<br/><br/><br/>“Listen, Braxton!” The colonel raised his voice as they kept walking “The deal was you keep her flying! When we sold you the ship, she was in great shape. Now it’s a piece of  廢物・废物 (Fei-oo)!<br/><br/>“She is a good ship.” Braxton agreed. “But we can’t have her look like it. What do you think will an alliance inspector think if he sees this ship, this<em>patrol cruiser</em>and it’s all nice and shiny and basically ready for battle? Not to mention, what will the Alliance tax office say when they read his report and then see that you sold it to me for a mere fifty thousand credits, which is basically her scrap value? No, like it or not, this…” Braxton pointed at the airlock maintenance panel where Lance was still wrestling with the cables and hoses, trying to force them back inside, “…this is good camouflage.”<br/><br/>That shut up the Colonel, and Braxton hummed to himself as they continued the tour. He had turned around the conversation nicely. Maintenance, especially paying for it,<em>was</em>becoming a bit of a problem…<br/><br/>“Oh, that smells lovely! What’s for dinner?” The Colonel observed. They had reached the common area with the kitchen.<br/><br/>"Beef with bell peppers," said the cook, looking up just enough so the brim of his cowboy hat was just high enough to show his dark eyes to the Braxton and his guest.  He kept chopping peppers and adding them to the pot.<br/><br/>The Colonel was looking at the cook's apron, which was pink with white lace trimming.  In big white letters, a name was on display on his chest.  "SUE."<br/><br/>"That's me, Colonel.  Mah name is Sue.  Good to meet ya, sir."  Sue wiped his hands on his apron and shook hands with the Colonel.<br/><br/>The Colonel's eyes went from the apron to the cook's face to the plate.<br/><br/>“So …Sue… where is the beef?” He asked and looked into the pot, confused.<br/><br/>“It’s…ah…’special’ beef with bell peppers. Like beef with bell peppers, just without the beef.” Braxton jumped in to explain.” Good for your health to skip the meat sometimes.” He quickly added. The Colonel didn’t<em>have</em>to know just how tight money was at the moment.<br/><br/>As they left the kitchen, the Colonel turned to him and asked in a conspiratorial voice. “Isn’t Sue a girl’s name?”<br/><br/>“Well, Sue ain’t a girl.”<br/><br/>“And what’s with the apron? He sly or something?”<br/><br/>“Listen, Colonel!” Braxton replied. He kept his voice down but there was obvious anger in it. “Some people like to wear aprons while they cook and some folk like to name their sons Sue. Doesn’t make them bad people. This is my crew. This is my ship. And while you are on it, you show some gorram respect!”<br/><br/>The Colonel looked at the captain taken back and surprised, but then he nodded. Just then a cute young girl came around a corner, carrying a huge pot of peeled potatoes to the kitchen. Freshly chastised on his manners, the Colonel nodded to her, said “Ma’am” and stepped out of the way.<br/><br/>“Not<em>her</em>! She is a…” Braxton made a gesture around his neck symbolizing a collar.<br/><br/>Elfi looked worried when Braxton spoke up, and hoped he wasn't angered.  It wasn't her fault, but she'd learned that Master Captain didn't like to hear words like that.  She somehow should have known that they'd be there and stayed out of the way.  At least the Colonel wasn't alone.  Braxton really discouraged her from being alone around people who weren't part of the crew and whom he didn't know and trust.<br/><br/>Ducking her head, Elfi scuttled past them with a murmured, "Excuse me, sir," to the Colonel and a darting glance beneath her hair towards Braxton.  The water she'd covered the potatoes with to keep them from browning was already murky with the starch and threatened to slop over onto the deck.  She leaned it into her and let her apron soak it up instead, and a damp spot spread like a clear gunshot.<br/><br/>Once past them, she stopped and stood against the wall, clutching the pot like a talisman, and waited until they were out of sight.  Elfi cringed and tossed her head, feeling the encircling mass of the collar around her slender neck.  Braxton had been known to use it to express his displeasure and she hoped he wasn't reaching into his pocket for the control unit.<br/><br/><br/>“We lost the ASREVs to make room for more cargo, but we kept the shuttles. I use one to be a little less… obvious when getting around planetside and I rent out the other to contractors. Used to have a prospector on board but now we got a better offer. Not many ships out here can boast to be travelling with a real companion on board.”<br/><br/>“A companion…why would a companion…?”<br/><br/>“Not really unusual. Lots of whores are flying the stars, Colonel. Remote mining colonies, space stations… there are desperate customers everywhere. But a companion gives the ship some credibility. When people look at this ship, they think:<em>patrol cruiser</em>. And that’s really bad for business. The profitable kind, at least. But with her on board, we can easily pose as a VIP transport.”<br/><br/>“Sounds solid.”<br/><br/>“Yeah. She is a major pain in the ass, though. But usually she keeps to her shuttle.”<br/><br/>"Unless she wishes to be a pain in the ass in person, Captain."  Serenity's sea green eyes fell fully upon the man as she all but silently challenged him to say something similar again.  Despite wearing a rather revealing form hugging robe of intricate design, mostly of black and gold thread interwoven into each other which to some gave her an imposing, almost regal look given her perfectly figured form and almost snow white skin, Serenity's very presence was that of calm and gentleness that one could almost compare to the sea when it was at rest.  She was not as calm regarding insults to her or her station in life as most Companions were, and she wasn't afraid to speak her mind about the issue either.  Of course, she wasn't afraid to speak her mind about a lot of things, hence why she normally stayed on her shuttle since it was found early on the Captain was a slave owner.  Normally that would have been a deal breaker from the start but something about him and his crew intrigued her to no end.  She had yet to figure out what that might be.  Turning to the man he had with him though, Serenity's composure returned almost as if a switch had been hit and her beautifully crafted face managed a radiant smile as she spoke next to him.  "Despite his rather brash nature, I am here to do what little I can to aid his and his crew.  Maybe even keep them out of trouble from time to time, but I doubt I'll be as successful as I hope."  She teased lightly, hoping to draw an agreeable smile out of the man if nothing else.  Considering she was a Companion and it was her job to know how people would react however, it was unlikely she'd get any negative response, but some people were nearly impossible to get an angle on, even for her.<br/><br/>"If you'll excuse me Captain, you are not the only one busy at the moment.  Sir, I bid you good day and many pleasant nights to come."  Serenity said to the Captain's guest, again giving him a warm smile since she had no quarrel with him in particular.  The trip to the stars with the Captain however, would see many days and nights of quite heated arguments most likely whenever they were in the same room together.  Such passion could potentially lead to a few very steamy nights in bed together, but Serenity was of the mind that she'd rather mate with a dog first.  Of course, stranger things had happened out in the Verse, so who was to say what way the winds would blow?<br/><br/><br/><br/>“I see you kept the brig.” The Colonel remarked as they walked past an empty cell.<br/><br/>“Yes. That’s what sets The Line apart from the usual free traders and tramp freighters. No wonder they have no discipline on board. Besides…” Braxton let his hand slide over the solid steel bars “…I use them to store valuable cargo. Some goods, you don’t want to stow where the crew and passengers can just walk in…”<br/><br/>The Colonel nodded as they walked on. “Oh this one looks awful nice for a prison cell!” He remarked and pointed to the left where one of the larger ‘communal’ cells had been decorated with warm lights and flowery motives. A curtain even provided some privacy to the corridor.<br/><br/>“Yeah. We don’t have plumbing and stuff...” Braxton pointed at the shower and toilet in the corner “…everywhere on the ship. So once we ran out of living space, the brig was the obvious choice.” The iron bar door was not locked and he pushed it open. Inside, the cell was even more girly than from the outside with paintings and colorful knitted drapes on the walls. A young woman was lounging around on the bed, reading, but she quickly jumped to her feet as the captain entered. “This here is Mya, our ship’s surgeon. She studied on Osirus. Bright kid that one.” He explained while he picked up random objects from her nightstand and examined them curiously. “Could have been one of the top surgeons in the Core, or so I’m told.”<br/><br/>The Colonel looked at Braxton, confused both by his casual disregards of the woman’s privacy and by the fact that few free traders could afford a real doctor, not to mention one who had trained on Osirus. The woman volunteered no information and just stood there, head slightly bowed, while Captain Early rummaged through her personal things. She wore a fancy, though slightly faded, core-style silk dress that accented her curves. And no amount of wear could conceal the fact that she wore it very, very well.<br/><br/>“Mya here found herself in some serious trouble. So I sold her a very special ticket out of it and she is still working off the debt.” He finally solved the mystery: The woman was indentured labor.<br/><br/>It took the Colonel a moment to digest this new information and when he looked up again, he was presented with a sleek, shiny, silver…<em>vibrator</em>that the Captain had fished out of her nightstand.<br/><br/>“Well… who would have thought.” Braxton remarked casually. The woman was visibly flushed, with anger and with shame, and she finally stepped up to take a stand. Her hands at her sides were balled to little fists of rage. The Captain stared her down, his eyes meeting hers for a long moment before she lowered her gaze again in submission. “Mya…” Braxton said and pointed at her with the tip of the silver vibe. “…don’t you have some straightening up to do in the infirmary before we lift off?”<br/><br/>“Yes…Mr. Early, Sir.” She acknowledged through clenched teeth and rushed past them, literally fleeing from her embarrassment. As she hurried by, Braxton raised his hand and gave her a little smack to her well-formed rump to send her on her way.<br/><br/><br/>“And this would be the bridge, Keri’s realm.” The Captain finally announced. Patrol cruisers had a roomy bridge with several crew stations. On this one, all but the piloting and navigation console had been ripped out and lose cable ends still poked out from the makeshift floor where the missing weapons stations had been. In place of the missile launch command console, a large, faded leather sofa was placed against the starboard wall. A pile of star charts and some recreational books stood stacked at the foot end and a warm blanket was laid out over it. It looked like the pilot was<em>living</em>here.<br/><br/>“Keri is the best pilot I have ever known.”  Braxton quickly blurted out before the Colonel could remark on her living conditions. “She can get The Line in and out before anyone knows it. Fly under the radar. And with our speed… well let’s just say that there are not many ships or skippers in the Verse that can catch Keri or my baby.”<br/><br/>Braxton reached out to fondly pat the steel wall of his ‘baby’ but he accidentally reached into an opening left by the removal of the ship’s weaponry, where he promptly got stuck.<br/><br/>“And that concludes our tour, Colonel. As you can see, in case the Independence calls us, we are ready.” He announced, trying to sound proud and soldierly, ready for hardship and sacrifice even as he struggled to wiggle his hand free.<br/><br/>“And in the meantime, let’s try to turn a profit. Keri, liftoff in five!”<br/><br/>The pilot’s chair turned around and the Colonel was surprised to be faced with an attractive young woman not even half his age. She had a boyish cut and her red hair played coyly around her angelic face.<br/><br/>“Yes, captain!” She acknowledged with a smile and The Line shuddered under their feet as she put the powerful engines into pre-launch warm up.<br/>