Before I begin telling the story of my latest gig to whoever is reading this, I should probably give some info about me. For all intents and purposes, let’s just call me Shooter. It’s part of my business name, so I don’t mind people calling me that. Some people complain that it’s too intimidating, but it suits me fine. People fear and respect you more when you have an intimidating sounding name. What they don’t know is that the jokes on them. They think of me as some gunslinger, when in fact the only thing I shoot with is a camera.

I’m a videographer. I mostly do wedding, when I do find people who are actually getting married. With the way things are, the idea of marriage, let alone the sanctity of is something only found in baroque works. But call me a romantic. I like being there when two people celebrate their commitment to one another. It’s certainly more lighter and interesting than what I used to do.

See, I grew up on one of the prairie planets. New Saskatchewan to be exact, part of the New Canada system. It’s literally a dirtball in the middle of nowhere, with some of the most bizarre weather patterns on any of the terra-formed planets. Just like the Saskatchewan on Earth-That-Was, according to my dad. We were farmers, just like everyone else. But I wasn’t content on following in the family business. I was always more interested in movies. Yes, they still exist here in the future. But I always liked the ones that were made when the format came out. The first hundred and fifty to two hundred years of “cinema”, as some folks put it. After that, everything got so recycled and censored by the different governments that the format wasn’t really producing anything worthwhile. But I wanted off that gorram dirtball, so when I heard of an opening in the media department of the Alliance, I jumped.

I did every kind of job there could be on a film set. All we were really producing were commercials, remakes and news broadcasts. But I didn’t care. I just loved being on set and being part of a crew. But that changed about eight years ago. After doing some satisfactory work for the Alliance, as well as a few small films of my own, I was hired by them to make a feature length war documentary for them about the Battle of Serenity. During the fight between the Alliance and the Independents, I remained neutral. Like all other artists, I hated politics. So I approached this like a regular job. God, I was so naïve. I saw the Alliance, my employers, mow down these helpless soldiers, whom all they wanted was to govern themselves and enjoy democracy. I saw all the horrors and futility of war, which I only had seen on archaic film footage and in the junk files on the Avids in the newsrooms I worked in. This was no gorram film or simulation. This was reality. How could I not be involved with it?

When I cut the film together, I couldn’t stop feeling angry towards my bosses. I was helping them shove shiong mao niao and lies down the throats of the public. I knew how the people at Fox News felt like almost 500 years ago, under the despotic Republican Party and that idiot/menace Bush. I decided that after this, I was quitting. I didn’t care if I couldn’t find another job, or if I had to go back to manual labor. I just wanted out.

This is apparently what the Alliance had in mind as well. Citing “conflict of interest”, which is another way of saying “we didn’t like to final product you gave us, so we’re going to re-cut the picture and hire someone else to take your job who shares our politics”, they fired me. Which was all right by me. I made a shitload of money working for them, and I had just enough to buy old versions of one main camera, a few small cams, and a pair of eye cams, as well as a portable edit suite and enough stock to last me for a long time.

So I decided to become self-employed. I put the word out through the proper channels, made myself a few business cards with a moving cartoon on it and traveled the ‘verse lookin for work. I’ve managed to keep myself in business. When you have hundreds of planets, and nearly 4 trillion people on all of them, it’s easy to find work all year round. The Core Planets is where the big money is, but for variety and excitement, the Outer Rim planets are where you’d want to be. They really know how to make the wedding ceremony and reception afterwards interesting. I was once on a planet where the ceremony was held on a hover craft high up in the atmosphere. And after their ceremony, instead of taking a shuttle down to the surface, the bride and groom skydived off the platform. And while they were in the air, they had to consummate the marriage before they had to pull their chutes. I never had so much fun trying to capture that. Some consider it crazy, but trust me. After seeing the horrors of war, and doing six weddings for arranged marriages in a row on Persephone, Osiris and Ariel, where you had to pay for the food they were serving, and in portions that in total would be too small for my coat pocket, I’d do a skydiving wedding/porno any day.

So, eight years later, I was back on New Saskatchewan. I had helped out with the harvest, and business was slow anyways. I had spent most of my cash getting there, and now I couldn’t get off. I had only enough to get me some new stock and pay the drycleaning for my good clothes (I never leaned how to iron).

So here I was, flat broke with nowhere to go. All of a sudden, I hear a familiar voice behind me say “Lucas?” (Lucas is my first name.)

I look behind me, and who could it be, but Kaylee Frye herself. “Kaylee!!” I rush up to her and hug her, even though she was already on her way to doing the same to me. She was a cousin of a friend of ours who’d always visit from Newhope during the summer. And we all liked her since she saw the positive in everything. Come to think about it, she always was a bit over-friendly. Not that anyone ever complained about it.

“Gu Nian Zhong!! How the hell have you been?”

”I’m shiny. I’ve been the mechanic on a ship. Been traveling the ‘verse for the last 8 years or so. How about you? I havn’t seen you in ten years.”

“Are you on shore leave?”

“For a few hours, yeah.”

“Let’s get some coffee and catch up on old times.”

“OK” she said in that infectiously happy voice of hers. God, she could’ve commited mass genocide, and you’d still love her.

We go over to the nearest saloon and take a corner booth in the back. We then proceeded to talk each other’s ears off. I tell her of my business and travels as a videographer, she tells me of her adventures on Serenity, the ship she’s a crew member of. We also talk about our pasts here and our uncertain future. After about her fourth cup of coffee, she leans back and smiles again.

“What?” I ask.

“It’s a funny thing, you saying that you videotape weddings. If you’re looking for work, I actually know someone who’s getting married.”

“Really?” I say as I bring my coffee mug to my lips. “Who?”

“Me.” She said merrily.

Immediately, I spew coffee all over the table in shock, like something out of a broad comedy. I sputter and cough for a minute as I regain composure and process this bombshell through my head.

“You!!! Kaylee??? Miss Crush on Every Shirtless Guy Except for Me. You’re about to tie the knot?”

“Yep, and in a more elegant, less coffee stained dress, I might add.” she said beamingly.

“To who? Not that Jayne guy you were talking about. Who the hell gives a guy a blatantly girl’s name anyways?”

She blushed again, trying to suppress a laugh and failing. “No, it’s to the doctor. Simon. He and his sister’s been with us about two years now. After we fuel up, we’re going to be married two days from now out in space.”

“Where you headed to?”

“Oh, nowhere in particular. Maybe one of the beach planets for our honeymoon.”

“You know, maybe a good gig and some beach time would be good after eating dust and chaff for about a month.”

“We can’t really pay, though. Most of our cash goes to fixing the engine and supplies. This won’t be really fancy.”

“Hey, I like things stripped down to the bare minimums. And I’ll wave my usual fee in exchange for you guys taking me wherever.”

“We’ll just have to talk to the captain about that. Let’s go.”

We both got up, and I wiped some of the spewed coffee up as she paid the bill up front. It took us a while to find her ship, but when we did, I couldn’t be more impressed. Her ship was an old Firefly transport. In comparison to other ships, it was a rust bucket. A relic. But if she could get that thing to fly, then I knew that this was something special.

“Capt’n” she yelled to a man standing near the bay doors. He turned around and smiled.

“Kaylee. Bout time you showed up. We were just about to take off without you.”

She leaned in and kissed him on the cheek. “I love my capt’n.” she said in that cooing voice of hers.

He looked over to me with a look of curiosity. “So what stray did you bring us this time? Part’s salesman? Weary traveler? Space monkey trainer?”

Kaylee stood between the both of us. “Captain. This is Lucas Anyong, aka The Wedding Shooter. Lucas, this is Captain Malcolm Reynolds.”

I held out my hand and he shook it. Firm handshake. “Just call me Shooter. Everyone else does.” He looked at me with resolve. I got the sense that he trusted Kaylee sense of judgment, but he wanted to see for himself if I was the kind to give him trouble.

“So what’s your business with Kaylee?”

”She’s a childhood friend of mine, and she’s offered me work on this ship.”

“And what kind of work might that be?”

“I’d videotape her wedding and edit it into a legit movie as compensation for a traveler’s fee. I can do some other grunt work around the ship, if any is needed.”

“Well, it’s a nice business proposition, but I’m afraid we’re going to have to pass.”

He started walking away towards the ship, but Kaylee soon followed him, trying to talk him into it. I could tell they were arguing about me, and whether or not I was of any real use and not a hangeron. I then noticed something strange happening.

As Kaylee was giving him an earful, I noticed a very luscious and elegant woman appear on deck. Very out of place. For a second, I thought I was hallucinating from the fumes all around me. But then I saw the captain look up to her. She gave him a small nod. He looked over, and with a look that was a mixture of reluctance and amusement, he walked towards me. “Shooter. Welcome on board.”

I shook his hand again as I gathered up my stuff. “Thanks, Captain Reynolds.”

“Please. Call me Mal.”

Malcolm Reynolds. Where have I heard that name before.?

More to come, that is if anyone wants more. Feedback appreciated.