Prelude to OOG: A captain’s tale

He had began to read the book. He didn’t know why really. Was it because he was bored or was he somehow meant to find it and partake of it’s pages? For whatever reason he had found it, an old hardback novel. It’s cover so worn that it’s title and author’s name were no longer distinguishable. The title and introduction pages were missing and the entire book, ripped, torn and whatnot seemed to be held together only by tape and a desire to keep living.

It had been left by one of his fare in a traveling dorm on his boat. One of the folk he ferried across the vast expanses of this place they lived in. Sometimes they did that. People aboard his vessel that were brought here and there left mementos of themselves. Not on purpose but by accident. Still if he were able to make contact with them later in time he would return their belongings. Many times though that didn’t happen. The cargo left behind by someone likely wasn’t that important or they wouldn’t have forgotten it.

He was about the throw this particular idem into the trash bay when the book slipped from his hand and fell to the floor. It had fallen open to the first page and it was the beginning line that stopped him and had him think twice about trashing the piece of literature.

“ This was my boat!” He read the first line silently as he reach down to retrieve the book from the ship‘s deck.

He brought the book to his bunk with the intention of looking at it some more a little later. He didn’t know that it would be three weeks before he got back to it again.

Now after three weeks of his own adventures and life experiences he found the book again stuffed back on a shelf that hung above his bunk.

He pulled it out and began to read. The story was about a young sailor brought aboard a warship during a time of peace. The lad seemed to be really engaged with the ship and from his past history the boat seemed to have become his one true home. He sailed the oceans and seas of some vast world on the ship and had many adventures. The reader of the novel couldn’t distinguish if the book were a work of fiction or the real life of someone.

He read on, “The Seahawk”, the name of the craft had been through many hard times. She wasn’t a young vessel, but neither was she old. The young sailor aboard her had developed a string of many years with the boat and for much of his life he knew of no other home. The young man went everywhere on the boat. He knew her from front to stern, port to starboard. He knew the engine room and the guns and weapons on the ship, the galley, the crew quarters. He learned every inch of the vessel. He achieved rank and grew to become second in command. The once young sailor now had more time than any other on the vessel including the captain. He grew to see her more as “his” than anyone else’s.

Then came that fateful day, WAR.

War had broken out in some part of the world and though unprepared he and his countrymen were involved. The “Seahawk” was a little old to be entering a war but as there wasn’t much of an armada of fighting vessels for his country she was brought into the fray. She was equipped with new armament and sent into the danger zone with a new name “ Firehawk” and a new commander. The young man that had once been so green on the ship was now in command. His superior had been given another, bigger vessel to command so he had been promoted to captain.

As the reader continued on with the novel he encountered a book filled with adventurous battles. The “Firehawk” fought bravely and there had been much happiness and sorrow during her times at sea. The vessel steamed ahead into many a danger but always seemed to survive and the captain, He was always at her helm!

Then there was the “BATTLE”.

Nothing extraordinaire about the “Firehawk” sailing into another fight. Only on this day things would go differently. The “Firehawk” sailed proudly upon the sea. She brought her guns to bare on many an enemy and taught them a lessen or two. Then the ship was shaken. Two bombs hit her. One midsection, one aft. The boat survived and the captain was given a report of the injured and dead. There were many names of friends on that list and it caused the captain a slight pause of reflection, but then the “Firehawk” got back into the action and fought hard. Two more bombs rocked her small frame. Another in the midsection another forward.

Things were getting serious but they weren’t bleak. The captain again shouted orders but his last commands were drowned out by another volley of bombs hitting the “Firehawk” in the side. Try as he might the captain’s ship was doomed. She was sinking and he knew it. Another ship of countrymen came to his side for aid. The captain gave the order to transfer the flag. His chief of command came to him, “ Captain it is time to abandon ship.” He said softly. “The “Firehawk” has seen better days and will sail no longer.”

The captain looked at his comrade.

“ I have been a long time aboard this vessel. Been through times aplenty, good and bad. Lost many a friend on her.” He said. He looked at his mate with tear-filled eyes. “ No commander! You take the remaining crew and seek the rescue of our sister ship. I intend to sail on with the “Firehawk” forever!”

At that moment the reader was brought back to reality by a voice over the com.

“ Mal! You need to come up to the bridge to see something.”

“ Be there is a second Wash!” He hit the button.

The captain made his way to his ship’s bridge. There sat Wash, his pilot…….and Kaylee was there too.

“This just came over the cortex.” Wash informed him.

Mal looked at the image and the information there with it. A warrant for the arrest of Simon and River.

“So what’s new?” the captain queried. “We’ve seen warrants for Simon and River before.”

“Look at the date.” Wash instructed…….and Mal did. “ Yeah….so?”

“Now look at Simon’s birthday.” Wash said.

They were one and the same.

“ Today’s Simon’s birthday!” Mal whispered almost to himself.

“ That would be my guess.” Wash grinned his little smart-ass smile.

Kaylee laughed too.

The captain thought a second.

“Kaylee! Can you Bake our doctor-fugitive up somethin special? Maybe a cake or pie or something? “Mal asked.

“ I’ll do my best captain.” She answered with a big grin.

“We’ll see if we can make this day a day to remember. A day the doc won‘t soon forget!” Mal finished.

The End.