Phoenix Feathers, Part I Chapter 5

Disclaimer: Joss is boss. While I wish on Kaylee's homemade protein cake that this was my 'verse, it isn't so. But at least the cake is good.

***

When Phoenix regained consciousness in the operating chair of the infirmary, his first thought was: I’ve been caught and taken back there. His second: Where? He then looked around and saw that the room was less advanced, less spacious, and less tidy than the other med labs he had known- When? Although Phoenix was wary of another of their -whose?- tricks, he tentatively concluded that he was on a ship. He couldn’t be certain, for the hull lacked the telltale vibrations produced by an engine straining against gravity. Since Phoenix wasn’t floating around in zero-G, he knew that he was on-planet, though he couldn’t say which or how he had gotten there in the first place.

Phoenix decided that he’d had enough –of what? He needed to get his bearings, to be armed and ready with violent intentions if they came back for him. Phoenix tried to get up, but his body had different ideas. He felt a throbbing pain in his side and looked down to see a bloodied bandage over his chest. Only then did he remember being shot in the forest. Behind Phoenix, someone noticed that he was awake.

“Hey, there! Feeling all right?” a voice inquired politely.

Phoenix looked around at the speaker, a young man not yet into his twenties, who seemed a little too cheerful given the manner of their meeting.

“You look to be fine, which we’ve got cause to celebrate, seein’ as how you were in such a bad way when we took you on board. Bloodier than the Battle of Serenity Valley, you were. Though I wouldn’t know for certain.” The young man hopped of the counter that had been doubling as a perch and offered Phoenix his hand. “I’m Cody. Mechanic. And this here’s the good ship Stallion. Don’t know ‘zactly why- she don’t run as smooth as a stallion, that’s for sure! Not goin’ anywhere at the moment. But who are you?”

“My name’s Phoenix. How did I get here?”

Cody seemed nice enough, but Phoenix didn’t want to give away any more than he had to. Or let on that he had severe amnesia-brought on by the injury, perhaps? - and couldn’t remember anything else. He felt so lost- It was good that Cody talked so much.

“Well, from what I’ve heard, you were found by Clarke. He’s a quiet character, keeps to himself mostly. He brought you back here in the middle of the night, and Koyi, that’s our doctor, operated all quick-like on you. Speakin’ of which, I’d better fetch her so’s she can check you over afore you go anyplace.”

Cody moved to the doorway and shouted, “Hey, Neb! We’ve got waking wounded in here!” in the direction of the bridge, and then he left in search of the doctor.

Phoenix quickly processed the data he had gleaned from Cody, trying to work out a course of action that he could stick to. He was full of questions- whowhatwherewhyhow- that his broken memory couldn’t answer. He remembered running from a…place, but his mind offered no images of any buildings associated with the escape. Then came a time where he had nearly dared to breathe because his pursuers were so close by, followed by a period of sneaking through a forest, then a gunshot and darkness.

All Phoenix knew for certain was that he was terrified, and that fear had a memory of its own. So he would run. Well, metaphorically, at least. Since he wasn’t mobile, he needed transport offworld. The problem was that the Stallion wasn’t going anywhere, either. It would have to do, though. Phoenix frowned in thought.

When Nebula entered the infirmary, Phoenix’s last lingering suspicions about his present situation were dispelled. While she saw a boy with creepifyingly intelligent eyes wearing tattered and blood-soaked hospital clothes, he saw a bright soul, filled with curiosity. It felt a bit like home, although he didn’t know where that was, or why it came to mind. Maybe it was because she wasn’t wearing any shoes, or something equally subtle, but somehow that sense of familiarity was present.

“You’re Nebula.”

“And you’re…Phoenix? Sorry, the bridge is just around the corner. Not much room for privacy, even on a Goliath- class freighter.”

An awkward silence ensued. Phoenix didn’t seem very talkative to Nebula, but, she rationalized, she wouldn’t be either, if she were in his shoes. Or lack thereof. Everything from his feet to his clothes to his presence in the Blackout Zone was a mystery to Nebula, but she knew she’d never get the answers, seeing as how they’d be parting ways- soon, if he had any sense.

Nebula tried again. “Well, I venture Koyi’ll be along, probably give you some more painkillers. How did you get shot so bad, anyway?” She hoped that he would explain, but he didn’t seem to be listening. In fact, Phoenix’s mind had made a connection, and his memory had taken him to another time, another med lab, another operating chair. Confused images and emotions assaulted him in a torrent of pain, fear, and terrible loss.

Phoenix came back to himself lying in a ball on the floor of the infirmary, his brain swimming with the effects of the painkillers, bleeding from where he had torn the IV from his arm.

“Are you okay? You looked like you had a fit!” Nebula came forward to help Phoenix up, but he shied away. Holding his injured chest he staggered out of the room, mumbling unintelligibly.

Nebula sighed. “Well, that went well.” She moved to the door of the infirmary to keep an eye on Phoenix, but was brought up short.

The corridor was deserted.

***

When Koyi woke up she was more than a little ornery. Actually, she passed most of her time between patients either sleeping or being ornery. From Koyi’s point of view, traveling the ‘verse was all well and good but for the occasional near-death experience, but the money wasn’t exactly piling in. The Alliance was cracking down on the Captain’s preferred type of business dealings. They seemed to think that it was “dangerous” and “dishonest” work. Oh, well. It was partly that contrasting viewpoint and partly that Koyi was terrified of losing a patient that gave her her belligerent and abusive demeanor.

So it was with a rested mind and a fresh arsenal of insults that Koyi emerged from her quarters. She saw Clarke heading towards the common area, on his own as usual, probably looking to have a quiet and solitary meal.

Koyi grinned maliciously and set off in pursuit.

***

Clarke had never killed anyone. He had never been in a hunting accident or taken a wild shot that had fatal consequences. Not even during his brief stint as a bounty hunter or during his current mercenary career had he been forced to shoot another human being. He had seen people die, of course- it was a fairly common occurrence in his line of work. Friends, enemies, even complete strangers had died around him, but never by his hand.

Clarke had never been shot, either. It wasn’t a charmed life that he led- how could it be charmed when his friends died next to him? It was as if Clarke was a ghostly witness to the violence around him. Until last night. Clarke couldn’t believe what he had done-it was only a kid, for Buddha’s sake! Even though he had gotten over the shock of it early enough to act quickly and get the boy medical attention, something inside of Clarke was still screaming. He was confused, angry, and scared that someone would know it was him. Worst of all, the incident was making Clarke question fundamental things about himself, questions that he had been avoiding for decades.

Clarke realized that the seemingly gentlemanly sport of hunting was based on a casual disregard for life that had been easy to forgive in favor of the success that he had once known. To Clarke, it embodied everything that he hated about the Alliance, and now he found that he had been enabling their corruption all along. He had become one of them. Now, after witnessing the consequences of his actions, Clarke desperately wanted to reject the Alliance’s ways- he just didn’t know how to do it, or who he’d be afterwards. He wished someone could explain things to him, but knew that he’d have to fight this battle alone.

“Well, tah ma de, if it isn’t the fastest unprintable draw in this stretch of nowhere!”

Clarke found that he had wandered into one of the shuttles. Spacious, empty, and isolated from the rest of the ship, the shuttles were perfect for introspection. But not at the present moment. Koyi loomed menacingly in the hatch, blocking Clarke’s only means of escape from her accusing glare.

Clarke hazarded a consonant. “Wh-”

“Bi zwai, you sewage-brained nincompoop! Why’d you do it?”

He shook his head, uncomprehending.

“You shot the kid!” Clarke’s head rocked back like he’d been shot and his eyes went blank, but Koyi didn’t stop her verbal assault.

“Look familiar?” She held up a spent bullet for inspection. “It’s yours. I know ‘cause I swipe them now and again to keep up my sleight of hand.”

“What!?” That brought him out of it. Whatever it was; Koyi didn’t much care.

“You popped out for a midnight stroll in the woods, that it? Now, fill me in, because I’m foggy on the details. Was it the darkness? Was it your blind drunkenness, or were you just trigger happy? What can you say that’ll make me forgive you? That’ll make him forgive you? If he lives. How can you possibly make up for what you’ve done?”

Something inside of Clarke broke. Suddenly, he was crying and pleading with her for forgiveness, pressing his pistol into her hands. Koyi would have none of it. She jammed the gun into his stomach, hard. Clarke fell to his knees in pain and grief as Koyi viciously wished him unending suffering in his next life. Then she stormed out of the room.

Behind her, his body wracked with sobs, Clarke hurled his pistol across the shuttle.

***

Monty had always been used to hardship. Being raised on a backwater planet like Harvest didn’t exactly give a man much of a leg up in life. Neither did being a Browncoat. To keep his head above the water after the war, Monty had bought the Stallion and had taken any jobs that he could find. He’d had good and bad times, though lately more of the latter than he cared to think about. He’d even been arrested by the Alliance once for smuggling, but none of it dimmed his spirits because he knew that he was doing good works.

Some thought that he was a fool for trying to eek out a living as a petty crook and that he should admit defeat and conform, but Monty didn’t care. His stubbornly honest manner made him more than a few enemies, but to those who did right by him he couldn’t be a more loyal friend. But right now, he was worried.

It wasn’t because of their predicament- that would resolve itself in time, no matter what he did. It wasn’t because of the stray boy that they had taken in- he’d be out of their lives in a little while. It was because as he moved from his quarters into the corridor he saw Koyi, looking especially bloodthirsty, making a beeline for him. Before he could duck back into his room for safety, she was in his face.

“You know, Captain, I’d appreciate it if you’d explain as to why we have such a useless piece of go se on board. Why’s he still here? He’s done nothing but cause trouble since he’s been here.”

“That’s not a very charitable attitude, Koyi. We can’t just abandon him- you of all people should appreciate what he’s been through.”

“What he’s been through! Think about what I’ve been through! What we’ve all been through!”

“But that’s what I hired you for!”

“My job is NOT to put up with some miserable, drunken lummox!” Koyi seethed.

Monty felt that something was out of place. “You mean the kid?”

“What? …No! Clarke!”

“Oh. I thought you meant the kid-”

“No, I haven’t seen him-”

“-and I was thinkin’, ‘what in blazes is this woman goin’ on about?’-”

“-no, it’s just that Clarke-”

“-or maybe that you finally snapped like Cody’s been sayin’-” Koyi stared coldly at Monty, who sensed that he’d said too much and braced himself for the renewed storm.

“…But I knew he was just jokin’. Funny kid,” he finished lamely.

Eyeing Koyi warily, Monty judged that it was a good time to make himself scarce doing Captainy things around the ship. He took a backwards step down the corridor, then another. Koyi just watched hum, like a dog sensing its owner’s fear. Just as Monty was about to make good on his escape, Nebula ran over to them, breathing hard.

“Kid’s up…can’t find him…ran off. Little strange. Nice, though.”

“He’s in no condition to be walking around. The drugs are likely messing with him.” Koyi looked around. “We’d better split up. Neb, you wake up Priscilla and search the hold. I’ll find Cody and we’ll take a peek outside. Monty, take Useless and search the rest. If we don’t find him soon, he won’t be our problem anymore…one way or the other.” With that, Koyi set off to collect their mechanic.

Ten minutes of frenzied searching later, Monty and Clarke cleared the upper decks of the Stallion. Clarke wandered off somewhere, red-eyed. Monty didn’t ask. He knew that Clarke would recover soon and didn’t want to embarrass him by noticing. Nobody liked seeing a wounded kid. Monty went below to where Nebula and Prissy were searching, presumably with similar success.

Climbing down the stairs to the ship’s hold, which served as a vehicle hangar, Monty noted its emptiness. Not only of people, but of cargo as well. Sighing, he passed through it towards the front of the ship, which housed the Stallion’s dormant engine. He saw Prissy leaning against the hatch of the engine room, her arms crossed and her features stern. As Monty approached, he made out two forms crouching in the near-blackness of the room.

Stepping through the hatch, Monty realized that the room’s two occupants were Nebula and the kid. He was fiddling with some wires while both women looked on.

“What the devil-” Monty began.

He was dazzled as the Stallion’s lights turned on, accompanied by the familiar whine of the engine starting up. A fully powered engine. Monty looked down at the boy who’d saved the ship.

Blinked.

Looked again.

“Huh.”

***