I don't own Cowboy Bebop…
Precious Things – Chapter Four
The Ibuprofen definitely wasn't cutting it.
Unfortunately, there was nothing that could be had over the counter that would relieve the pain in Spike's foot, a throbbing that was only amplified by his walking on it. He would need an opiate of some kind… or maybe one of those new prescription synthetics, if he really wanted to kill the pain.
A few months earlier, he'd had enough Percocet on hand to kill a herd of elephants. He took as few as possible given the agony he was in, but after a couple of weeks on the potent medication, he could feel his body yearning for the soothing high not out of pain, but because of what was becoming a growing addiction. The need for it had gained strength as the days passed, and he was fully aware of what was happening and why.
Finally, late one night, his body wracked in pain and soaked in sweat, he'd dumped the whole bottle of pills down the toilet and never looked back. The ensuing withdrawal had been harder than he'd expected, and his body was still a working disaster at the time, but it had been the right thing to do in the end, he figured. He wasn't about to let a little blue tablet rule his dreary life, and that wasn't going to change now, no matter how bad his foot felt.
Grimacing, Spike leaned back against the filthy wall behind him as he took the weight off of his wounded appendage, which was bothering him much worse than it had the first day for some reason. Seeing his obvious discomfort, both of his comrades had tried their damnedest that morning to convince him to stay behind and let Jet fill in for this one, but he was on a mission, pain, and a lack of sleep be damned. Now he wondered to himself if it was all merely a fool's bravado. It certainly wouldn't be the first time he was guilty of that.
He looked at the apartment door across from him, waiting and hoping to see Chen Ten's ugly mug coming through on its way to meeting his fist. He would then reclaim his Jericho, assuming Ten still had it, and maybe recoup a bit of his dignity as well. A quick and clean capture would do much to boost his wounded ego. He was tempted to forget about the half-assed plan Faye had thought up by simply busting down the door, but another bolt of pain from his foot reminded him that it might be best to let Faye do most of the leg work.
Their lead had led the bounty hunters to one of the oldest remaining housing projects on Mars, constructed in the late twenties for the workers and their families new to the Martian world. Over time, the workers moved on, and the failures amongst the planet's affluent ranks replaced them. The twenty-story structure looked like hell from the outside, Spike had thought, but the interior was worse. He'd stepped over what seemed like a dozen homeless drunks in the hallways and stairwells (the elevators were long since out of service), not to mention the garbage piles he'd had to navigate. There were cracks and holes in the drywall in places where the wallpaper was long gone. Everything around him possessed the awful stench of urine.
Faye had gone straight to the roof upon arrival, and was now busily navigating her way down the fire escape. The idea was for her to come in through the window outside apartment 14-B, hopefully catching Ten and subduing him before he knew what hit him. If he got away, Plan B would have Spike apprehending the bounty in the hallway outside.
Of course, all of this depended on whether or not Jet's tip hunting had actually paid off. The anonymous lead had claimed that Ten was here to visit an old flame before fleeing Mars for good, and it had even provided them the specific apartment to look for. Spike had notified Faye when he'd located 14-B on the southwest corner of the building, and she'd burst into action in a flash. However, as she made her way down the rusted iron stairs, she began to have some doubts. If the tip was wrong, they might have a hell of an expensive mess on their hands…
Finally making it to the fourteenth floor, she paused to examine her options. There were two windows within reach, both with shades closed. The one to the left would require a bit of precarious balancing, so she made the obvious choice to take the easier way in.
"Spike, I'm on fourteen." She whispered.
"I'm ready when you are" was his reply over her earpiece.
She acknowledged his reply and quickly and quietly set up four tiny explosive charges on each corner of the window. As soon as they were ready, she ran to the other side of the iron platform and ducked as the charges blew out the window, frame and all.
Entering the building with her weapon drawn barely a second later, Faye found herself standing inside a small bedroom. She could hear a feminine shrieking, and she made out two figures through the smoke, huddled together on the bed.
"Don't move a God-damned muscle!" she ordered, pointing her Glock at the pair. The fog of her entrance was already beginning to clear, and she could now see that the screamer was a petite brunette who was hiding behind and holding on for dear life to the butchest looking chick Faye had ever laid eyes on. She wouldn't have even guessed it was female if it wasn't for the pair of double-D's nearly bursting through the "Dykes on Bikes" tee that she wore.
"Shit…" muttered Faye as it became obvious that the tip was false. Just in case, she searched the rest of the tiny apartment, but found no one else inside.
"We got a bogus lead Spike! He's not here!" she said, frustrated. Biker-woman approached Faye, looking understandably pissed, and apparently unaware, or perhaps not caring that she was completely bottomless. Here we go…
Spike sighed, slumping his shoulders as he overheard Faye trying to lamely apologize to the terrified and angry resident. He didn't need the micro-comm to eavesdrop; they were plenty loud enough to be heard out in the hallway.
As he listened to his comrade order the occupant to 'put some pants on for God's sake', he heard a door open down the hall to his right. He glanced in that direction, and much to his surprise, he saw Ten with duffel bag in hand and by his side, an unidentified Asian woman whom he guessed was the old flame. They pair was not more than thirty feet away from him.
Leaving his woman behind, Ten bolted towards the stairs while yelling something unintelligible to Spike. His painful foot suddenly forgotten, he immediately gave chase. "Faye, I got him! He's headed down the southeast stairwell!" he said into his ear piece as the unidentified woman screamed from the top of the stairs in a language he didn't care to understand.
You can run, Ten, but you're not getting away this time.
Faye cursed and hurried to the door, leaving behind the two scared and angry lesbians, one of whom was frantically calling the ISSP. As she listened to Spike's breath pounding over the micro-comm, she paused for a split second to get her bearings before locating and rushing towards the southeast stairwell, ignoring the worried Asian woman who stood there.
Meanwhile, Spike was nearing the first floor, and by this time, Ten had gained a bit of distance on him, having the advantage of not being hobbled by a residual gunshot wound. Reaching the ground floor, the bounty hunter burst through one door, then another, finally ending up outside of the front entrance, panting as he tried to catch his breath. He looked around but could not spot Ten anywhere.
"Spike! Where are you?" said Faye over the communicator. "And where's Ten?"
"I dunno… I lost him again… shit!" said Spike between his harsh breathing.
"What do you mean you lost him?" yelled Faye, making Spike wince a bit. "Damn it…" she continued. "I knew you weren't up for this! What the hell were you thinking, insisting that you could hunt with a shot up foot?" The ranting continued, and rather than arguing, Spike simply yanked out his ear piece and chucked it down a nearby curb drain, not caring how many thousands of woolongs the damn thing had cost.
Just then, he heard a loud rattle and hum from his right, and he turned to find a garage door opening further down the face of the building. A moment later, a small, dark blue civilian MONO ship emerged and began to rise into the sky, but not before Spike was able to identify its pilot as their target, Chen Ten.
Sprinting with renewed vigor, Spike headed towards the Swordfish II, which was parked down the block in the opposite direction, obstructing two lanes of street traffic. He climbed inside and had it fired up and ready for flight in record time. He took off, the blast from his engine sending passersby scurrying for shelter. As soon as he was clear of the skyline, he began searching the skies for Ten's ship, and managed to spot it two o'clock high as it was entering a near vertical climb. Spike opened up the throttle, confident that his old MONO-racer could easily catch a slower civilian spacecraft. Before long, they were clear of the city, and his surroundings began to darken as the G-forces mounted.
Spike smiled as he glanced down at the display in front of him, monitoring the closure between himself and Ten. He began arming the plasma cannon, readying it for action. The altitude was piling up, and he realized that they would be in orbit sooner rather than later. Guessing that Ten was trying to flee the planet, He quickly brought up the current orbital location of Mars' Hyperspace Gate, and breathed a small sigh of relief when his screen showed that it was halfway around the planet from them, meaning that Spike had plenty of time to get his man.
Ten's ship was getting closer, and the Swordfish's was locked & loaded. Spike lined up his target for the shot, and had his finger on the trigger, ready to fire when in range, which was prominently ticking down on his heads-up display. He needed to get close enough so he could carefully aim to disable Ten's ride without killing the occupant.
Come on… Just a little closer…
"Are you out of your fucking mind?" came Faye's harsh voice over the radio, startling him just enough to throw his aim off. "And why in the hell did you-" she was cut off as Spike killed the radio.
"Sorry, Faye." He muttered to himself. "Now is not the time."
Lining up the shot once again, Spike found that Ten was almost too close now. Nonetheless, he mashed the trigger and the plasma cannon roared to life, sending a white hot energy beam toward his prey. Much to Spike's surprise, Ten avoided the shot by sending his ship into a sudden dive that actually served to level off his orbit. The move caused the Swordfish II to overshoot badly, and he was forced to back off the throttle and reorient himself.
Maneuvering to set up another shot, he leveled off as well, but as he did that, another ship passed him overhead dangerously close, catching him totally off guard as it filled his view.
It was the Redtail.
How in the hell…?
He hastily flipped the radio back on as he stared incredulously at his intrepid comrade's gunship as it streaked through the vacuum of space. "And you think I'm out of my fucking mind?" said Spike.
"Yeah, well I'm not the one who tried to ditch his partner!" She retorted angrily. "What happened to your God damned micro-comm?"
"I threw it away." replied Spike.
"You what?" asked Faye. "Why'd you do that?" The tone of her voice made it obvious that if she could, she'd reach through the speaker and strangle him.
"Same reason I'm doing this." He said as he cut the connection for good. Hoping to avoid further distraction, Spike took a deep breath and began searching for Ten's ship. He spotted it a few seconds later, the small spacecraft twinkling like a star as it reflected the distant sunlight. Pushing the throttle to the stops, he gripped the control handles tightly as the G-forces pushed against him. He resumed the chase while wondering how Faye had managed to keep up.
With his finger on the trigger, he once again had his eyes on the range finder. Then, incredibly, he spotted the Redtail closing in on Ten from above… and well ahead of Spike. Shit, she's gonna get there first!
His jaw went slack as Faye launched a battery of heat seeking missiles, and he then watched in amazement as Ten slammed his ship around and went full burner, which caused his main engine to essentially act like a massive speed brake to slow down his forward momentum. This move would normally cause a ship to quickly fall out of orbit, but Ten kept his craft's nose pointed up at a fourty-five degree angle to prevent his ship from bleeding altitude too quickly. The missiles turned to follow, but they decelerated too quickly, losing altitude and eventually falling harmlessly towards the surface once out of propellant.
Spike knew at that moment that he wasn't dealing with an average pilot. Ten continued to surprise him with his resourcefulness, and he could only smile as the bounty and his ship streaked by and beneath the Swordfish II. Spike rolled his ship and performed the same maneuver, and as the massive deceleration hit him, he watched beneath him as the small blue craft reversed course again to level off its decent.
Now's my chance!
Realizing he had a small window where Ten would have difficulty evading any sort of attack, he hastily cut power to twenty five percent, dropped his nose, and attempted to let his continued deceleration walk the gun-sight right into the center of his target. It was a good plan, but unbeknownst to him, Faye, after watching her missiles fail to reverse course in orbit, had performed the very same reversing maneuver, and was still decelerating with her engine at full power, putting her on course to pass right between the Swordfish II and their bounty.
With a sudden, ninety degree change in attitude, Faye brought the blue ship into view and prepared to one-up Spike once again, this time with a gatling blast that would surely disable Ten's ride for good. But as she rolled back the throttle to ease her own rapid descent, the space in front of her lit up as a white hot plasma beam appeared directly in front of her. She realized with shock and horror that she was flying straight into it.
On pure instinct, she yawed the Redtail hard to the right, which kept her from flying cockpit first into the beam, likely saving her from being fried instantly. The maneuver was not enough to avoid it completely, however, and her ship shuddered heavily as the beam cut deep into the aft portion.
Spike never saw the Redtail until the damage had been done. One moment, he was watching Ten's ship helplessly float into his plasma beam like a lamb for the slaughter, and the next, he was witnessing an explosion that appeared to be a split second too soon, and had also seemed to be much closer than it should have been. Then he saw it, and Spike's heart instantly sank like a stone. He immediately got on the radio to check on his imperiled comrade. "Jesus Christ! Faye, are you alright?"
He waited in silence for a few tense moments as he wondered if he'd finally done the shrew woman in somehow. He was immensely relieved to hear her voice shouting back at him moments later.
"What the hell are you trying to do, kill me? "Faye screamed over the radio.
"You'd be just fine if you would have stayed the hell out of my way!" retorted Spike. Gritting his teeth, he quickly brought his anger under control, as he knew it was of no use to argue with her at the moment. "Whats the damage?"
"Everything!" she cried in frustration. "My warning panel's lit up brighter than Las Vegas!"
"What about propulsion?" asked Spike.
"Dead." replied Faye as she cycled through various screens on her console. "It isn't restarting either… I think you took out the generator. Shit… my fuel cell's gone too!"
"Are you running off the backup batteries?"
"Yeah."
Several crackles and pops sounded behind Faye. She turned around just as the automatic extinguishers let loose, making it even harder to see in the smoky cockpit.
"What the hell was that?" asked Spike.
"Damn it…" muttered Faye as she returned to her console. "That was the air scrubber shorting out on me."
"Shit…" said Spike under his breath. Losing the scrubbers meant losing clean, breathable air in the cockpit.
"I can't see a damned thing in here." said Faye, and she coughed a few times. .
"Get your suit on, Faye. That air can't be too good to breathe anymore."
"Way ahead of you…" she replied as she ripped her space suit from behind her seat and began wriggling her way into it.
Remembering the bounty, Spike looked around and realized that Ten was long gone. At that moment, Faye and her disabled ship seemed like the biggest ball and chain in all of the universe.
Damn... why does that woman have to be so insufferable? If she'd have just backed the hell off, this would never have happened…
Fuck it. I'm not gonna sit here with my thumb up my ass while Ten waltzes off to the gate unchecked…
Spike turned his ship around and brought it back to full throttle. He began climbing to regain the altitude he'd lost since the friendly fire incident occurred, resuming the chase that had been momentarily halted.
"Faye… I'm going after Ten. You just hang tight."
"What?" she erupted. "Wait just a minute. You are not leaving me here, Spike."
"Ten's gonna make it to the gate if I don't!" he replied.
"Well, call the ISSP and have them blockade it then!"
"And lose the bounty? Forget it."
"Damn it! My o2 lights are on!" pleaded Faye. "I'm probably… no, I'm definitely leaking oxygen!"
"How bad?" said Spike as Ten's ship came into view well off in the distance.
"Tank one…" Faye coughed again as she checked her o2 status on her console. "…sixty two percent and falling fast… Tank two… shit! Zero percent!"
The tone of her voice made Spike take notice; she'd never sounded quite so scared before. "Just finish getting your suit on." he said. "You'll have eight hours of air with that. I'll call Jet and get him there with plenty time to spare."
"Spike, you filthy bastard! When we get back, I'm gonna put my foot up your ass so hard you grandkids wi-"
Everything went silent, this time without Spike cutting her off. With mounting concern, he cycled through the frequencies to try and raise her, but got nothing in response. He wondered if if her radio had merely given out, or if the whole ship had lost power.
The situation for Faye was definitely not good; the Redtail was rapidly dying around her, and Spike was well aware that she was in real danger. He wrestled with the decision of whether or not to turn back, but his hard resolve to bag Ten before he fled Mars was too strong, and he stayed the course.
Faye would have to fend for herself.
Aboard the Redtail, things had gone from impossibly bad to worse. The ship had suffered a complete electrical failure, effectively killing off what few functioning systems she had left. Both oxygen tanks were empty by now, leaving her completely reliant on her suit to survive until Jet's arrival. Her beloved gunship, which had taken her to the ends of the solar system and had bailed her out so many times in the past, was now a lifeless heap of machinery floating through space.
She attempted to take a deep breath to gather herself, but ended up choking instead on the noxious fumes flooding the cockpit, sending her into another coughing fit. Her frustration hit the breaking point, causing her anger to flare over, her rage directed entirely towards her comrade who, in her mind, had abandoned her.
"God damn you, Spike!" she yelled at the top of her lungs as tears stung at her eyes. "This is all your fault, you reckless asshole!" she continued, wishing that he could actually hear her. "How can you just up and leave me here to rot like this?"
She began hacking again, and decided she couldn't wait any longer. Donning her helmet, she then locked it into place by pressing two buttons on either side of the helmet under the collar, which simultaneously sealed and pressurized her suit, and also opened the electronic o2 regulator valves. She glanced down at the oxygen gauge on her left forearm, and felt reassured by the readout showing that her tank was full.
Feeling a little safer in her suit, she decided to do something about the blinding smoke that filled the cabin. Fumbling for the pressure controls behind the seat, she manually opened the valves, venting all of the smoke, and with it, the last tiny bit of breathable cockpit air out into space.
Now that she could see again, she found that she had a wonderfully full view of Mars, a sight that actually had her worried, and for good reason. She was in a low orbit… dangerously low. At her altitude, it was just a matter of time before the Redtail, with her still in it, would succumb to Mars' gravitational pull and begin an uncontrolled atmospheric re-entry that would be guaranteed to burn her precious craft to an unidentifiable crisp, taking her with it in the process. And having lost her propulsion, there was nothing she could do to prevent it.
Trying to push that thought out of her mind, she turned around, bumping head first into her hand held comm-link which was floating in front of her. The device wasn't of much use now, seeing as how her cabin was completely depressurized. She could try to make a call with it, but no one would be able to hear her now, nor could she hear them. It almost made her regret opening the valves.
Still, if worse came to worse, she could use the comm-link to send a distress signal to the ISSP, though the repercussions of doing so would be massive. She technically wasn't licensed to operate a Class C Modular MONO-Gunship, and there were plenty of other blots on her record that could make things messy. All of this made the option of calling the authorities a last ditch plan in her mind.
Just for the hell of it, Faye activated her suit's internal two-way radio to see if anyone was close enough to hear her. No dice; the radio had a range of up to ten miles in space, depending on the level of interference in the area. Judging by the amount of static she was receiving, she figured her current range was much less than that.
The intense feeling of isolation was never stronger then at that moment. Being alone wasn't something she normally minded, but the disabled Redtail was beginning to seem something like a coffin or a prison cell, and she do nothing but wait for someone to rescue her. Naturally, she hated the whole situation to pieces. The fact that she was mostly, if not entirely dependant on her fellow crewmembers to rescue her was even worse. What if Spike, for whatever reason, hadn't actually contacted Jet? The thought seemed kind of ridiculous, but it still nagged at her. She had to try to push it out of her mind. He wouldn't just forget about her… right?
The urge to try contacting the Bebop herself suddenly became a powerful one. But what good would it do if they couldn't actually talk to each other? Her hand-held comm-link did have the video transmitter, but a strictly video communication without any knowledge of sign language would be beyond cumbersome. Still…
Snatching the communicator from where it was floating, she quickly speed-dialed the Bebop, and then waited. Much to her relief, the balding pate of Jet Black appeared on the screen.
"Jet! I need your help!" she yelled out loud, in spite of the fact that the sound would never make it beyond the inside of her helmet. Jet was talking as well, and she watched as he became visibly confused and frustrated. She mouthed the letters S-O-S in exaggerated fashion, but neither of them were lip readers, and it was all getting them no where.
As Faye cursed to herself over the futility of their communication, Jet's eyes lit up, and he held up his index finger, signaling her to stand by. She waited patiently for a few seconds as he disappeared from view, and then the next thing she saw was one of the computer console screens on the bridge of the Bebop. Jet had typed up a message for her:
I'm already on the way. Will be there in about 90 minutes. Conserve o2, and don't do anything stupid.
The message on the screen was a bit blurry at first, and Faye had to blink a couple of times to bring the full message into focus. Jet's face reappeared, and she gave him a small grin to acknowledge her understanding. She mouthed a thank you to her older comrade, and then the connection was cut, and her comm-link was once again floating through the cockpit as she resumed waiting for rescue.
As she watched the communicator drift away from her, Faye noticed the blurriness in her vision had returned. She tried to blink it away again, but it only seemed to get worse, and at that moment she found that she was feeling a bit short of breath as well.
That was definitely not a good sign.
Waving her hand in front of her face, Faye found that her dizziness was getting the better of her by the second, and she only grew more disoriented. She tried to take a deep breath, but it felt even shallower than the last.
What the hell is going on?
The symptoms were obvious; she wasn't getting enough oxygen. She looked at the LCD readout on her forearm once again, and found it still indicated that her tanks were full. A sense of panic crept over her, which she tried desperately to suppress. She needed to think hard and fast. Why wasn't she getting oxygen? Did one of the electronic o2 valves fail?
Deciding that was as good a place to start as any, she blindly fumbled for the manual release latch on the left underside of her life-support pack. Her limbs felt extremely stiff now, and she was losing a bit of dexterity in her hands. She finally found the tiny handle, and yanked on it.
Nothing happened.
She pulled on it again several times, and then gave up as sweat poured down her face. A massive wave of nausea overcame her as carbon-dioxide began permeating her body, and seconds later, she hurled the remains of her breakfast all over the inside of her helmet, making her conditions even more miserable.
Her head was getting foggier with each breathless moment, which hampered her attempts to think her way out of her dire predicament. Panic was now in full grip, and she dry heaved once more as she began sobbing. She found that she was peering through a tunnel; the blackness was closing in from all sides now.
The logical portion of her brain was telling her to try and send a distress signal with the comm-link, but it was being drowned out by her terror as a horrifying realization settled in her mind.
God… I'm going to die in here!
With that thought pummeling her head like a heavyweight boxer, she almost didn't see the light blinking out of the corner of her rapidly narrowing field of vision, which was further obscured by the vomit clinging to the inside of her face shield. As her lungs burned, desperate for oxygen, she realized that the light was from her comm-link; someone was calling!
Her body feeling as if it was made of lead, Faye somehow managed to muster the strength to grasp the communicator and activate it. As the picture came up, she found that the only thing she could make out on the screen was an ill-defined mossy blob with a patch of white underneath. She puzzled for a second, but then it hit her.
Spike!
"Help me…Spike… Please…" she said, her weak voice straining to make a sound, which barely registered within the confines of her helmet. Her next attempt to speak died on her tongue as the last vestiges of consciousness drifted away from her.
I want to go home…
"Houston, we have a problem…"
Yes, I have risen like the phoenix from the ashes, returning from the dead to bring you another chapter.
Well, okay, so it isn't quite that dramatic. I sure hope the story is however! I guess that's kind of a wicked cliffhanger there, eh? Sorry, I had to end it somewhere. This chap's well over the 4,800 word mark already.
Thanks to all my reviewers. I look forward to hearing from you again!
