BLUE SUN ROOM FAN FICTION - GENERAL

KHAMBILO

The Visitor - Prologue
Sunday, March 1, 2009

A crossover fic - Firefly and KOTOR II - not sure how many firefly fans are fans of kotor, but i am. This idea just dropped into my head as I was finishing up kotor II. This is the prologue to a set of stories I plan to write. There aren't any firefly characters in the prologue, but they will come in later... as in the next chapter. So...yeah...this is just kinda setting it up. Feedback would be great!


CATEGORY: FICTION    TIMES READ: 2074    RATING:     SERIES: FIREFLY

The light flickered once or twice before finally being solid in its illumination. The lamp provided minimal light, but it was enough for Kurwai to do his work. He slipped some papers around on his desk until he found the file he was looking for, an old-style manila folder labeled “Serenity, Firefly Class.” Kurwai opened the folder. A small data disk and a couple of papers were all that was there as well as the fruit of his efforts for the past several weeks.

Damn hard thing to find, too, Kurwai thought to himself.

He slipped a long, homemade cigar into his mouth and lit it with a match. A couple of his friends had once criticized him for his lack of innovation, the old manila folders, and the matches. He could at least use an electric lighter. But Kurwai found that there was something more personal by using the antiquated methods for common tasks. It was these subtle things that helped him complete his job: finding people. And anyone and everyone subscribed from his services. Politicians, gangsters, family members, business people. All over the ‘verse, there always seemed to be people who needed to be found. After they were found, he asked no questions, which made him one of the most trusted men in his occupation.

This particular case had been intriguing. An old woman came into his office nearly two weeks ago, requesting that he find a Firefly Class vessel named Serenity. Not too polite that one, he thought. Abrasive, demanding, but more than that, just downright creepy. But as was his custom, he did not ask questions as to why.

It was a decision he regretted. There was something different about this case that just plain stunk, and it wasn’t the old woman. Upon searching into the Firefly vessel, he found numerous things that could be a reason for wanting to find it: several Alliance flags on it, stolen property, resisting arrest, the list went on. Still Kurwai could tell this woman wasn’t Alliance. Their kind hardly ever contracted with Kurwai, and when they did, it was with guns and powerfully ugly threats. The most curious thing he found was the woman’s lack of involvement with Serenity. Most clients are in some way affiliated with the person they want to find, but this old woman never showed up in any cross check with this vessel. At any rate many of these questions would be cleared up momentarily, as she would be meeting with him soon. It was a meeting he was dreading. She had this way of staring right through a person, an intangible sense of invasion permeating his body in her presence. Kurwai looked at his watch, an old earth style analog, and found the time.

She’s a little behind schedule, he thought, she better show up callin’ me at this –

“You were afraid I wouldn’t come.”

He jumped at the sound of her icy voice. He hadn’t even heard the door open, yet there she was in the corner of his office, hiding in the shadows as if she had been there the whole time.

“Not at all, ma’am,” he said regaining his composure, “I was expecting you.”

She drifted out of the shadows allowing him to more plainly see her.

“Indeed.”

Kurwai did his best not to break his resolve. She was in the same clothes she wore when she contracted him: a simple brown robe with a hood that dropped well over her face concealing her eyes. A bit antiquated for the common garb of Persephone albeit she was not a common resident of Persephone.

If here eyes were not covered, they would have followed Kurwai as she took a seat in the chair across his desk.

“Speak,” she demanded, “what have you found?”

Kurwai let the folder slip onto his desk. “You’re in luck,” he said flatly. “The ship you seek is on her way here, set to touch down at the Eavesdown Docks tomorrow.”

The old woman slowly claimed the manila folder from his desk and began to skim its contents.

“You have done well,” she finally uttered.

Kurwai let himself up. “Well it’s my job,” Kurwai remarked, “and traditionally when I do a job I get paid.”

“Of course,” she replied overly subservient. “You are an honest businessman, and should be honestly paid.”

She lifted at a fold in her robe and removed a small clinking pouch. Coins clattered as she sifted through the pouch and effortlessly removed coins. After a moment, handful of coins was placed on the desk.

Kurwai could tell with simply a glance that this was not the negotiated price for his services. “What is this? This is only half of my fare!”

The old woman returned her gaze to the manila folder. “According to your records,” she began chidingly, “the location of the transport ship only took you a week to find. Therefore I shall pay you for the duration of that work.”

Kurwai stood aghast. “Why you –“

“But, finding these crew dossiers was excellent work,” she continued, “but you imparted me with a folder full of information I already knew.”

No it’s not possible, Kurwai thought. The crew dossiers were near impossible to scrounge up. “How could you know—“

“Know this,” she interjected. “There are no rewards for going above and beyond the call of duty. I asked you to find a ship, you did, and you received your fare for the task I asked, not for those I didn’t.”

“If you know so much, then why not find the ship yourself,” Kurwai fumed.

“Echoes vibrate across the galaxy. For a ship constantly in motion, sometimes those echoes are dispersed or avoided.”

To Kurwai, she was speaking gibberish. He sat in stunned silence awaiting something: a sign, a clue as to what she was talking about.

“There never is a great revelation,” she continued. “Always a betrayer. As you have perceived betrayal from my deeds, so will others, from my hands and from yours.”

She paused, her message ingraining itself in Kurwai’s head, making an eerie sort of sense.

“You made a fatal error today, inspector,” the old woman said judiciously. “You asked questions. A man in your position cannot afford such things as questions. You know the price of questions all too well.”

She moved for the door, leaving the file on the desk.

“It is a mistake you won’t make again, I am sure.”

The door opened without a hand being laid on it and closed behind her with a sharp bang.

Kurwai took one last glance at the collection of coins on his desk. He sharply snatched them and threw them to the back of the drawer.

He stood for a moment, as if waiting awhile would change his situation.

This woman…

He returned to the desk and retrieved the file.

“I don’t like this. I don’t like this at all.” Reaching into his desk he retrieved his matchbox and struck the topmost match. The tiny tongue of flame quickly grew, the file in his hand being its source.

Kurwai tossed the flaming file into the waste bin and watched slowly as the name “Kreia” slowly smoldered away.

COMMENTS

Monday, March 2, 2009 2:50 AM

FREEVERSE


Hmm. I don't know the Kotor 'verse, but this is intriguing! I'll be interested to read more.

~freeverse


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