BLUE SUN ROOM FAN FICTION - GENERAL

MIRANDAGHOST

Phoenix Feathers- Pt. 2, Ch. 4
Tuesday, March 20, 2007

Finally, the story continues! Koyi and Nebula find out that appearances are not deceiving: Dyton City is a rough town. And Phoenix makes some new friends.


CATEGORY: FICTION    TIMES READ: 1496    RATING: 9    SERIES: FIREFLY

Phoenix Feathers, Part II Chapter 4

Disclaimer: Joss is not only Boss, he is a cool Boss. You know, the kind who permits (and -who knows?- occasionally enjoys) such stories as we may procure, though all of this 'Verse rightly belongs to him alone. Thanks, Joss.

***

The battered door jingled shut after Koyi as the doctor barged into the dimly lit building.

The shop appeared to be deserted, with the only illumination coming from the street outside. At the front of the room was a cashier’s desk with an older-model register and a few odds and ends strewn about. Dominating the room were various clothing racks which displayed almost every conceivable mode of dress, ranging from simple shawls and old homespun dresses to ornate Sihnonese robes. A dozen mannequins were scattered about the store, unmoving and expressionless sentries. There were several private dressing rooms at the far end of the store, along with a passageway into the back, but whatever lay beyond it was concealed by a curtain of beads.

Koyi whirled to look out the smudgy windows, making sure that she hadn’t attracted the attention of the gangs which were converging in the street outside. Satisfied that she was safe, Koyi leaned her head against the window, her eyes closed, and caught her breath.

“Can I help you?”

Koyi nearly jumped out of her skin. Before her stood a short old man wearing a faded grey robe, small gold spectacles, and a polite smile.

“Where’d you come from?” the doctor asked accusingly. The old man chuckled.

“Sorry to startle you, miss. I was in back with matter of no great importance when you summon me.”

Koyi frowned, then looked above her head. “The bells. Oh. Well, I don’t really need any assistance, at least none that you could give me.”

The storekeeper waited for her to continue, his eyebrows raised slightly.

“There’s something going on outside. There are some men... I just ran in here to get off the street.”

“They chasing you?”

He moved to the window and squinted out of it, trying to assess the situation outside of his shop. Koyi moved further away from the door. She leaned against the nearby counter and pinched the bridge of her nose, trying to remember details.

“No! At least, I don’t think so. It looked more like two groups. Some were dressed in red, and some in blue. They didn’t seem particularly interested in me. I think maybe it’s a gang war or something. Are there gangs in Dyton City?”

The storekeeper kept his eyes on the street outside as he answered her tiredly. “Tongs. Some big, some small. All very nasty. Ones outside belong to big gangs, Blue are Shark and Red are Talon. You don’t want quarrel with them. Talon own this part of town. Every home, every business made to pay protection fee. Who we protected against?” The man said bitterly. Then he beckoned to Koyi, adding “Look.”

Koyi moved hesitantly back to the window and peered out at a scene of utter chaos. A dozen blue- and scarlet-garbed men fought viciously in the street, grappling and kicking. They were totally immersed in the melee, no man showing any concern over collateral damage to unfortunate bystanders or nearby properties. Koyi looked hard for Nebula, and was prepared to dart back out amidst the action to pull the girl to safety, but the Stallion’s young pilot was nowhere in sight. Koyi breathed a sigh of relief.

Koyi focused her attention back on the skirmish. Neither side seemed to be gaining the upper hand. Minutes of intense fighting later, neither of the tongs was finished with the other. She looked on as one of the Sharks knocked his adversary back into the gutter only to be struck on the back of the head by another of the Talons. He sank to one knee, stunned, as the fallen Talon got up, pulled out his blade, and ran him through. Koyi watched, as fascinated as she was repulsed, as the man’s blood stained his blue jumpsuit black. The Shark looked down at the mortal wound, then up at his executioner in wonderment. Finally, his head lolled forwards and he fell face first into the dust.

The old man shook his head. “Talon don’t play by rules.”

The Sharks stared at their fallen comrade, then shouted in anger and drew their own steel, but the Talons rallied behind their leader. There were more men in red now, and they had been encouraged by their leader’s ruthless use of force. The Talons charged at the Sharks, forcing them slowly backwards out of the intersection. Another blade found its mark, slicing into the shoulder of one of the Sharks. The Sharks had had enough; their wavering blue line broke and ran. Some of the Talons gave chase with exultant whoops, but the leader and several other members of his tong stayed behind.

Next to Koyi, the proprietor bit his ancient lip. “Please, wait here. Watch them,” he asked her. Then he pattered softly into the back of the store, the curtain of beads sliding back to mask his frail body.

Outside, two of the Talons went into a building across the street, the district’s general store, leaving the third member of their party to watch the street. The two Talons stayed in the general store for a minute or two, then came back out and moved on immediately to the neighboring store. They spent another minute in there, then proceeded to the next store, slowly making their way around the intersection, towards the clothing store.

“Um, is anybody there?” she called back into the darkened store. Koyi waited, but the old man did not reappear.

“Hello?” Koyi reached up and jingled the chimes that hung above the door hopefully, but to no effect. She looked back out the window in time to see the two Talons cross the street, making directly for her.

***

Cody hurried into his quarters, and picked his way through the mess of clothes, machinery, and food that lay strewn about the floor. He didn’t want to keep Phoenix waiting long. In fact, Cody thought it would be best if the boy was never left on his lonesome. Phoenix had a peculiar manner- not in a way that Cody felt was dangerous to himself or to his crewmates, but it was odd nonetheless. Phoenix seemed to take in everything that he saw, but rarely did he show signs of life. He seemed to Cody to be as near a mechanical human as ever existed.

The young mechanic searched high and low for the game board, finding it after much rummaging about of things under a greasy pair of overalls in a corner next to his bed. He kicked the overalls into a different part of the room, then stooped down to scoop the “Go” board up along with the small pouch of rounded stones that lay next to it.

Cody was always active, whether he was tinkering with one of the hundreds of devices which made the Stallion’s engine turn, or whether he was playing practical jokes on the Captain. He looked forward to teaching Phoenix “Go,” and was welcoming the opportunity to pit his mind against a new opponent’s. Cody’s regular nemesis in this or any other game was Nebula, but they rarely played anything these days, as she was frequently called away to plot a new course or to dodge some pirate who was after the Stallion’s hard-won treasure, and as he did his part to keep the ship in the air.

The crew certainly had experienced their fair share of adventure, which was all well and good, but it was sometimes too much, even for him. Cody wished that the ‘Verse would quiet down a spell so he could get one decent game of “Go” in before the end. Just one.

Cody slipped back out of his room and ran into the Stallion’s main bay.

“Phoenix,” he called jubilantly.

Cody looked up expectantly, ready to teach his new disciple the intricacies of the ancient game of “Go,” but was brought up short.

The boy was nowhere in sight. ***

Phoenix moved with ease through the crowded streets of Dyton City, slipping effortlessly between busy folk to drink in the sights of the bazaar. He was drawn to the multitude of shifting colors and garish attractions that fought for space in shop windows and street vendors’ carts. Most people came to the bazaar on business, hardly daring to remain longer than absolutely necessary. The Dyton City Market was a beehive of scum and villainy without equal, but it was also an integral part of Dyton Colony. The planet ran on the money that was made, or sometimes even manufactured, in the City’s thriving black market.

Phoenix admired it for the sheer number of relationships that were being created and developing right before his eyes. Vendor-Buyer, Master-slave, Lender-Debtor. None of these were particularly complex and could be found without difficulty on any civilized planet, Core or Rim, but Phoenix found the continuous interplay between the hundreds of city-dwellers enclosed in the market to be pleasantly formulaic. Things were fixated in their proscribed patterns. Only he remained. An error. An outsider. A nonentity.

Ahead of Phoenix, a dilapidated tent flap was pushed open, and suddenly there was a preponderance of red in the swirling colors of the street. Phoenix kept his distance from the six armored men who had emerged from the tent, but followed them, intrigued. For one, their crimson suits were bedecked with complex Chinese heraldry, proclaiming their majesty and dominance over their territory. He saw that they each carried a pistol, along with swords that he assumed were reserved for ceremonial combat. They walked with purpose, and passersby parted before them like water flowing over stones.

He would have left, then, for there was much that yet remained of the bazaar for him to explore, if he had not caught sight of a disturbance in the seemingly endless crowd further down the road. A half mile down the road, people were milling about, trying to avoid something that was closing in. In a second, Phoenix understood what was going to happen- it was a skirmish between two gangs over territorial rights.

And just as he knew what was going on, Phoenix saw what would happen in the packed intersection. He winced, scanning the crowd for signs that they had been warned of the danger, but, as far as he could tell, they were still blinded by the immediacy of their errands. But as he looked on, Phoenix caught sight of something else in the crowd- a familiar face. He stiffened, then nodded to himself. The decision had already been made; his tally of familiar faces was woefully lacking already.

Phoenix, moving quickly and quietly, slipped past the red-clothed gangsters and into the frightened crowd, his tattered uniform soon lost in the turbulent mix of frantic bodies fighting to escape.

Phoenix slid through the rapidly thinning crowd, finding an unsuspecting Nebula admiring a Tall Card deck at a street vendor’s booth. She looked up quizzically at him, then gave a start at the shouting that began to sound from the fringes of the intersection. Without explanation, he took her arm and guided her through the crowd and away from the converging gangs, keen on escaping from what looked to be ground zero.

Behind them, the unfortunate people in the intersection had realized the danger that was drawing near. Far too slowly, they began to flee, attempting to squeeze out of harm’s way before the heavy argument started in their midst. Awareness spread inwards towards the center of the crowd, followed in quick succession by panic. Men, women, and children fought to break free of the mass of people as the rival gangs pushed their way inwards.

When they were a safe distance away from the intersection, Phoenix and Nebula stopped running. Nebula caught her breath, then looked back at the crowd, horrified. She started to run back, but was stopped by Phoenix.

“What is it, love? You don’t want to go back there.” He gently tried to pull her back in the direction of the docking bay.

Nebula shook him off, tears in her eyes. “You don’t understand! Koyi’s back there!”

“Koyi?” Phoenix looked back at the crowd, gauging the distance. He took a deep breath. “Right. You get yourself back to the vessel. I’ll be joining you shortly.”

With that, he sprinted back towards the intersection, dodging the dozens of frantic people who were running in the opposite direction.

“Be careful,” Nebula pleaded, as the gangs’ first war shouts were punctuated by the distant clashing of steel.

***

Koyi backed quickly away from the door as the Talons approached the store, swearing not too quietly as she did so. “This is a happy development. Oh Buddha, why do you insist upon repeatedly crossing my path with those of deadly inbred sons of lepers such as these men?”

She felt a light tug on her arm, and whirled to see that the storekeeper had returned, carrying a small pouch. The old man threw a quick glance in the direction of the door, then gently began to usher Koyi towards the back of the store.

“Better if you not here when they come, miss.”

Koyi was flustered. She allowed herself to be guided through the curtain of beads to a doorway that she assumed led to a back alley out of view of the Talons in the street outside. Shaking off the proprietor’s guiding hand, she turned to face him before he could open the door for her. “What will happen here? What about you?”

The man jingled the money bag. “They seek payment, no more. I give it to them, all is well. But I do not think it good if they find you here. Talons very rough with outsiders.” He reached for the door, and pushed it open.

“I can take care of myself,” she insisted.

“Can you, now?”

Koyi whirled to see the scarred face of a tall brute of a man framed in the doorway. He was dressed in blood red armor. Another Talon was casually leaning against the back door, keeping it firmly open against the storekeeper’s reflexive yank.

The old man laughed nervously and stepped back from the door, keeping himself in between the Talons and Koyi. He addressed them only in Chinese, a sign of respect. “Ah, my sincerest thanks for gracing my humble store with your presence, honorable masters! How may I serve you?”

“Shut it right up, old bloke. Where’s my money?”

The storekeeper bowed low, holding out the money bag for the gangster. The man took it and handed it back to the second Talon without looking at the pouch’s contents.

“Thank ye kindly, chum. Now, if you’d be so kind, where’s the rest?”

“Pardon, master?”

The Talon snapped his fingers impatiently. “The money! Where’s it at?” He pushed past the old man when they heard several dull thuds at the front of the store. Striding through the curtain of beads, he addressed the two other Talons who had entered the store by way of the main entrance. One was busily rummaging behind the cashier’s desk, while the other was examining several of the ornately-dressed mannequins by the door.

“You find anything, mates?”

“Nah,” responded the man by the register. “Look’s like what’s left is all in this lockbox ‘ere. I suggest we open it manually.” He grinned, touching the sword on his back meaningfully.

The storekeeper hurried into the front of the store, wringing his hands desperately as he approached the gangsters. Koyi trailed close behind, not wanting to be left alone at the back door. She was in turn followed by the fourth Talon.

“Certainly the masters would not rob a poor businessman of his last remaining wealth?” the old man wailed.

The first Talon turned and backhanded the storekeeper to the floor. “We’re not thieves!” he roared at the frail form below him. The old man whimpered, and the Talon visibly calmed himself. “We take only what belongs to us. No more than that. Got it?”

The storekeeper crawled away, murmuring apologies, while the chief Talon turned to Koyi. He smiled, eying her appreciatively. “I’m sorry about that, love. Some people just don’t wise up to us. We’re just collecting some coin from the businesses what are protected by us. Occasionally they forget why, but that little ruckus outside should serve to remind ‘em what we’re doing. Now, what was a pretty girl like you doing in a place like this?”

Sensing his foul intent, Koyi backed away a step, but refrained from cursing his ancestors for their base roots because she found herself slightly outnumbered. “Nothing.”

“Nothing?” The smile stayed fixed to his face, deepening his scar lines, and he matched her, step for step.

“Just…shopping.”

The storekeeper, still on the floor, tugged at the thug’s leg. “Kind sir, are all of my earnings to be taken from me today? Such a happening would destroy my little shop. I beg you to let me speak with your most benevolent lord. Perhaps there has been a mistake?”

The four Talons snickered. “There’s been no mistake,” the fourth stated. “We’re closing you down on account of no profits to speak of.” He shook the money bag, the few coins contained within making a disappointing amount of noise. “But you can talk to the boss, all right. He’d be right glad to accommodate you,” he mocked.

The chief gangster chuckled, throwing another hungry glance at Koyi. He then hauled the terrified old man to his feet, pointing to the man behind the register, who had pried the store’s ancient lockbox from inside the cashier’s desk. “Martin. Grant this venerable man’s wish, will you?”

Martin nodded, then vaulted the desk and took the storekeeper by the arm. “Come on, precious, time for a nice chat with the boss.” The two of them headed for the back of the store, the Talon walking with purpose, his arm cradling the lockbox, while the old man struggled to keep up with him. Koyi watched them until they disappeared behind the curtain of beads.

“So, love, where were we?”

Koyi turned to face the chief Talon, who now stood very close to her. His breath was rancid. She backed away again, past several of the mannequins, shaking her head mutely.

“What? There’s no need to be frightened, love. I want to help. Anything you need. Anything at all.”

One of the other two Talons was pretending not to pay attention, but was actually watching the action out of the corner of his eye while leaning against the back wall of the store. The other man glanced at them briefly, then busied himself with studying one of the store’s mannequins, this one draped in an oriental-style robe embroidered in red and green. He squinted at it in the dim light, peering closely at the expensive fabric. It was a beautiful pattern, and he tried to picture himself wearing it. He would certainly cut a dashing figure, the robe flowing regally around his well-shaped form, already augmented by his tong’s crimson armor. Yes, he decided, he would take it. He reached for the mannequin’s neck to remove the marvelous robe.

The mannequin blinked.

Koyi was being moved backwards into a corner. She pushed at the chief gangster’s armored chest, but he grabbed her wrist with a meaty hand.

“Easy there. That’s the ticket,” he soothed.

“Motherless affront to Nature,” she ground out. He licked his lips.

A loud thump and a clatter made Koyi and the two gangsters at the back of the store look around. The chief Talon signaled for the man at the back wall to check out the source of the noise. The man frowned in disappointment, but went quietly to the front of the store while the first turned back to the object of his attention.

“Stupid bugger probably fell and hurt hisself,” he told Koyi, nudging her in the direction of one of the dressing rooms. He hardly felt her knee his armored groin. “You’re a lively one, aren’t you?” he chuckled. She tried to claw at his unarmored face, but he pinioned her hands to her sides. He forced Koyi back up against a wall. Her eyes were wide with fear, but that was all right. He liked that they were revolted by the scars on his face. He liked his girls to show him the respect that he deserved. He craned his neck to kiss her.

It took him about two seconds to register that she was no longer staring at him but over his shoulder, which was approximately two seconds longer than it took for the sensory receptors on his neck to become overloaded by the forceful application of the blade of Phoenix’s hand and shut themselves off. The Talon slid off of Koyi and crumpled noisily to the floor, joining his two accomplices in serene repose.

Koyi stared at her rescuer, her jaw dropping open. “Kid?”

Phoenix looked around at his handiwork. He tried to think of when the remaining Talons would tire of giving chase to the retreating Sharks and return to the intersection. Deciding that time would probably come sooner rather than later, he looked the doctor squarely in the eye.

“I think we’d better go.”

***

COMMENTS

Tuesday, March 20, 2007 4:22 PM

MIRANDAGHOST


I'm back!

My life is officially back to normal, after months and months of hecticness. Wheeeeeeee...

Major credit goes to HeWhoKicksAlot, who basically got me writing again. It's not exactly like riding a bicycle, folks. But you all know that quite well.

Hope you all (remember and) enjoy the story!

~MG

Tuesday, March 20, 2007 5:38 PM

HEWHOKICKSALOT


Well, Phoenix seems to have come out of his shell to save the Stallion's crew. I like his confidence with regard to escape and evasion, as well as his stealthy little takedowns. Man after my own heart.

I find myself liking Monty's crew more and more. Keep up the good work.

"I got stabbed. Right here."


Rob O.

Wednesday, March 21, 2007 9:48 AM

BLUEEYEDBRIGADIER


Whoo hoo! MirandaGhost is back and with a vengeance!

;D

Can't wait to see how this little moment affects Phoenix's relationship with Monty & co.

BEB


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