I. Mayflower
101.
The port of the Forget-Me-Not Colony is bustling with life. Ships dart across a sky crowded with clouds and rimmed with whitish smog, taking off, touching down, anchoring to solid metal docks and loading up goods. An ocean of people flows across the concrete walkways. They are speed-walking in currents, waves breaking on the edges of steel-skeleton buildings and jostling elbows with apologies and pardon-me's and the occasional watch-where-you're-going. A few are multicolored, dressed brightly to counteract the dull welded-together monochrome of the city around them. Most are wearing gray to blend in.
Some are wearing Empire uniforms and the faces of soldiers.
It is November of 2906, and war has been blazing for nearly three years.
A man slips into an alleyway, two companions trailing behind him. He stops and glances up at a sturdy but ancient-looking wooden sign. The name "Blue Bar" is emblazoned across the front, and soft jazz music and laughter drift through the amber-lit windows and open, inviting door.
"So, this is the place, Cam?" the one on the left asks, tugging at the ragged edges of his red-striped hat. A pale woman with black hair in braids trails behind, surveying the bar and its inhabitants with silent curiosity.
"That's what Rio said." Cam straightens his jacket and steps across the threshold. "Though it's a bit cheery to be-"
"A bit cheery to be what?" A blonde waitress in a bright red dress approaches the group, stilettos clicking against the wood-paneled floor. She cuts Cam off with a smile. "Welcome to the Blue Bar. Can I get you all anything to drink?"
"We're here for business, ma'am," Cam says in a low voice, leveling his gaze at her. "I assume you're Muffy?"
"Oh." All traces of bubbly lightness drop from her voice. She surveys them attentively, drawing her well-shaped brows together and crossing her arms. The next sentence comes out as a drawl, running together into one word, in the way common phrases do when you've said them too many times before. "You know, I rather like mermaids."
"I rather like griffins better," Cam replies, carefully enunciating each syllable.
The woman relaxes, nods, and motions to the grizzled man behind the bar, who waves his hand.
"Right, then. Let's go to a place with more... Comfortable arrangements."
She saunters behind the counter and glances over her shoulder to make sure they're following.
"And don't call me ma'am," she adds, a bit sourly. "It makes me feel old."
102.
Amethyst eyes skim the horizon, squinting to make out the names of the ships. Nothing is fitting, nothing at all, and Sanjay needs to get himself and his cargo as far away from Empire-held territory as possible, as quickly as possible. Preferably to Zephyr, but beggars can't be choosers.
Beggars! He almost laughs at the irony. A couple of beggars wouldn't be in this kind of mess in the first place. Not that he'd go back to that life. He's privileged, he's incredibly lucky, and he knows it. He wouldn't trade what he has now for anything, even given the current situation, but sometimes, there's a thought flickering around the edges of his brain that things would have been so much easier if he'd never-
"Oi! You there!"
He flinches and whips his head towards the source of the voice, heart in his throat and guilt on his face. He catches sight of an Empire uniform and freezes, blood pounding in his ears, and they've found him, they've found him and he wants to sprint away and lose himself in the crowd but he can't, not without risking the mission, and it's too late to run-
The soldier approaches. Quickly.
Sanjay takes a breath, straightens, and puts on his best poker face because there has to be a diplomatic way out of this, there has to be, for Amir's sake-
The soldier rushes past him and makes a beeline for a ramen stand on the corner.
He collapses against the wall and breathes a sigh of relief.
Safe. We are safe, we are safe, we are safe.
103.
In the dark back hallways of the Blue Bar, Muffy leads the three travelers to a storage room. It's poorly lit, with a concrete floor and hard metal chairs. Ash immediately collapses into one of them, a gangly sprawl of elbows and legs. Reina hesitantly sits to his right, perching on the edge of the chair, and folds her hands carefully on her knees. Cam stays standing. Shipping boxes cover the back walls, and it's decidedly a lot less comfortable than the bar they've just left.
The door slams closed behind them and locks with a solid click.
"So, let's get to business, then. Who sent you?"
"Rio." The woman wrinkles her button nose in confusion, so Cam elaborates. "Long blonde hair? Blue eyes?"
"Ah! So that's what she's going by now," Muffy sighs. "I do wish she'd pick something prettier. Back when I knew her, she was Claire. Such a nice name..."
"She's our ship's mechanic," Ash volunteers.
"Ugh!" The woman visibly cringes. "So messy! Although she did always have a penchant for building stuff, so I'm not surprised. To each their own, I suppose..."
"In any case," she continues, approaching the boxes, "it's good that you all got here when you did."
Cam raises his eyebrows. "Then you've got a shipment for us to make?"
The woman nods and raps her knuckles against one of the steel crates.
"In this container," she says, turning to Cam, "is fifty thousand gold's worth of medical supplies. Don't ask where we got it. All you need to know is where it's going, which is..."
"Zephyr?" His face is carefully stable, unreadable.
"You've got it!" she chimes, winking. "The rebel forces there are in pretty bad need of the stuff, if the papers are anything to go by, but since the Empire put up that blockade back in '04, we haven't been able to ship so much as an empty wine bottle out of here."
"Not legally, at least."
"Eh. Depends on your definition of legal," she says, pursing her lips. "As far as I'm concerned, the Empire's lost their right to dictate what we do."
"You're telling me!" Ash replies, leaning back. The metal chair creaks under his weight.
"In any case," Muffy continues, gesturing to the shipping boxes once again. "Just sending the supplies is no good. Even if they're hidden, it's too suspicious-looking. Nobody's gonna pay for just an empty ship to go places, you know?"
"I see." Cam taps at his chin. "But if you were to have, say, a ship that carries flowers to sell..."
"Which is where you all come in." The woman surveys them, a warm smile on her face. "So, my fellow rebels? What's it going to be? What do you all say to a bit of smuggling?"
"I'm all for it!" A half-grin is plastered on Ash's face.
Reina simply nods, and that's all the confirmation Cam needs.
"Leave it to us," he says, straightening his tie. "We'll deliver the medicine."
104.
A girl with long golden hair and blue overalls is leaning against a wall by the ramen stand, happily slurping up noodles. It's been eons since she's had good food. Protein bars are nice and all, but after nearly three weeks off-planet with only basic provisions, she's glad to finally get something with a bit of flavor to it.
The little freeze-dried carrots almost taste fresh. Glorious.
She sighs, blissfully unaware of the two angry uniform-clad men barreling towards her.
"Rachel Winters!" shouts the one on the right. "By the authority of the Unified Old-Earth Empire, I hereby place you under arrest!"
The woman tenses, but she doesn't actually look up until he grabs her arm roughly. The bowl she's holding slips from her hands and crashes to the ground, ramen sploshing everywhere.
What a waste, she thinks, tugging at her arm. He doesn't let go. This is exactly why I hate Empire soldiers. No respect for personal space.
Just like the Empire itself, actually.
She kind of wants to say that last part out loud, just to make them mad, but there are limits, and although the soldiers aren't much of a threat, there's still the potential for a scene. Cam has strictly forbidden any more scenes this month, and besides, it would make the whole leaving-port thing a tad more rushed than it really needs to be.
In any case, she's Claire today, and she can't have crimes getting attached to that alias.
So, instead of tossing out a witty one-liner, she huffs and mutters, "You're payin' for that ramen, ya know."
"Is that a threat?" The soldier gripping her arm is livid. She mentally christens him Grumpy.
"Nope," she replies, her voice solid ice. "Remind me of whatcha needed again?"
Grumpy sputters. "Yo- You're under arrest!"
The side of her mouth quirks upwards. "I thought ya said Rachel was under arrest."
"Yes," the one on the left says, producing a badge. "You, Rachel Winters, are under immediate arrest by the authority of the Empire..."
No wonder he's quiet, Rio thinks, wincing. His voice cracks more than my last manicure.
He continues, and she's got to hand it to him. As unpolished as he sounds, his memory is, apparently, impeccable. "-fifteen counts of smuggling, eighteen counts of assault on Empire military officers, three counts of murder, and fifty-seven counts of destruction of Empire property."
"Huh." The girl's grin is full-blown this time, spreading across her face like sunshine. "Bit of a shame for her, then."
The left soldier's eyes widen, Grumpy's mouth literally drops open, and boy, is she glad she decided to go with her Claire alias today. The soldier's grip on her arm goes slack while he pulls his jaw off of the concrete sidewalk, and the blonde carefully extracts her arm before continuing.
"Seein' as my name ain't Rachel, I think it'd be pretty illegal of you to arrest me, hm?"
"Fine. Documents?" Grumpy holds out a hand expectantly.
She rolls her eyes and sighs dramatically, making a big show of digging through her messenger bag for the papers. They're in the right front pocket, like always, but she pokes around in some of the other parts first to make him impatient, because the guy's being a jerk and if he's not going to buy her a new bowl of ramen, the least he can do is provide entertainment. Finally, after stalling for long enough to cause mild irritation, she flicks open the right pocket and slides her fingers in. Pulls them out, then pries the pocket as far open as it will go and stares at the nothingness inside.
Empty. It's empty! Her passport is back on the ship!
Rio shifts her stance and balls her fist. "You boys might wanna head on out, now."
The one on the left reaches for the gun at his waist, and she sighs.
Oh, and I had so hoped to keep Claire's record clean.
She twists back, aims for his nose, and throws a punch.
A.N. This is my first fic in a while. Quite a long while, to be honest. How long has it been? Six years or so? In any case, hello! This is a sci-fi Harvest Moon AU. (The premise does have some light parallels to Firefly, as the setting is Firefly-inspired, but it is not based in that universe.) I've rated it T for safety and target-audience purposes, rather than because of the age-appropriateness of the content. With regards to disclaimers: I don't claim to have any ownership over the characters, settings, etc. represented in this work, and if the owners of said materials wish me to remove it from this site, they need only contact me and I'll behave accordingly.
That said, I'm really looking forward to writing this, and I hope you all enjoy it!
(As a side note, I'm choosing the flowers for each chapter title based on their meanings... Mayflower is supposed to mean budding or some sort of new beginning, according to my sources, and I figured it fit considering how this is the beginning of the story.)