Chapter 11
It was very quiet on the bridge. And very crowded. Wash sat in the pilot's seat, steering them towards the ground. Everyone who had been on the Demetrius pushed in close, watching out the window, anxious for a look at the new civilization they'd stumbled into. Behind them was the crew of Serenity, watching them watch the planet. Wash deliberately flew over the city on the way to the Eavesdown docks. Kara looked down at the buildings.
"Looks like Caprica," she said quietly. Gaeta, who'd insisted on hobbling up on his new crutches, agreed, his eyes sad.
The docks were different; rougher, dirtier, and more crowded. In some strange way it reminded her of New Caprica. More sun, fewer tents, same basic lifestyle. Kara thought maybe she understood now the bitterness in Mal's voice when he spoke of the Alliance and their selective help.
Wash was a good pilot and the touchdown was smooth. Kara kept gazing out the window as she listened to Mal outline the plan for the day. Mal, Zoe, Jayne, Book, and Inara would all take the salvage from the Demetrius to trade. The first three would make the deals and get the money, then the other two would take it to buy everyone clothes to blend in. Mal, Zoe, and Jayne would go off to meet their contact and Book and Inara would bring their purchases back to the ship. Once changed, they could leave the ship to explore, under the watchful eyes of Kaylee, Wash, and the others. They weren't to wander off alone or draw attention to themselves or blah blah blah...Mal's advice was well meaning but annoying, and Kara tuned him out after awhile.
It was strange seeing a functioning city again, even if the docks weren't a city in the strictest sense. For all the similarities, New Caprica had never been this developed. It was the first real community she'd seen in three years. Kara had never counted herself overly sentimental, but the sight did bring out a certain sense of nostalgia. These people, however much their government sucked, still got a chance to live. It was a hell of a lot more than the people left back in the fleet had going for them.
She glanced up when she heard Gaeta limp over, and realized with a start that the room had emptied without her noticing. Even Sam had left. He'd apologized earlier, for what he said and for how he'd been acting in general, but Kara found herself still withdrawing. Something was obviously wrong with him, and part of her wanted to be the caring spouse, there for her husband. But it was just too much. Dealing with the action, with what was going on, that she could deal with. Personal issues had to wait. If she had to deal with his pain it would open the door to hers, and she didn't have time to ponder what she was or why she'd come back.
Still, for all their problems, she would have far preferred Sam was the one standing next to her instead of Gaeta. She'd checked in on him plenty, but hadn't really talked directly to him much since they boarded. There was a lot of history with Gaeta that made it just as hard to not question herself around him. After all, hadn't she almost killed him for collaborating with Cylons? And now they both had to be asking if she was one. He made her feel guilty, and that just pissed her off.
"It's kind of surreal, isn't it?" He sat in the seat Wash had vacated, stretching his leg out straight in front of him and wincing a little. "I guess I'd never really thought what it would be like. What would already be here, waiting." He trailed off and Kara shifted, leaning a hip against the flight consol and crossing her arms.
"How bad is it? The shuttle," she clarified at his confused look.
"I didn't realize you were paying attention." The barb was mild but pointed, and Kara shot him a warning look.
"I'm not blind. A moron could tell Athena and Helo aren't exactly bubbling with optimism anymore." Gaeta sighed.
"The technology is fundamentally compatible. FTL tech can affect their ships the same as ours. The trouble is trying to connect the hardware we have now. The hookups aren't the same, the fuels are different, the amount of electricity needed is different. I think they're talking it over now, trying to figure out what spare parts or wires to look for when they go out. "
"We have less than a week until we're supposed to rendezvous with Galactica. Are we going to make it?" He met her eyes, his face dark.
"If there's anyone who could do it it's them...but I don't think we will. It's going to take more than a week, a lot more, to make FTL work on these ships." Kara nodded, the answer he gave meeting her expectations.
"That's just frakking great," she said, more to herself than to him.
"I had a lot of time to think the last couple of days. Not much else to do. I was the primary navigator of Galactica, I laid out most of our trajectories based on what little information we had about Earth's location. It may not happen in time for the rendezvous, but FTL is still our best bet. They get it up and running, I'm pretty sure I can narrow our search pattern when we go looking. It's not much, but it's something." Kara rubbed her forehead tiredly. There was no easy answer, no perfect solution. They were well and truly frakked and they just didn't want to admit it.
"OK," she said out loud, because he expected it.
"You know," he said, voice deliberately light, "It could be worse."
"How?" Kara asked, disbelievingly. He managed a grin, tipping back in the chair.
"We could have Tigh and his flask in charge." She let out a bark of laughter and shook her head. Taking one last look out the window, she headed for the door, pausing to look back at him.
"You coming?" He shook his head, swiveling the chair to get a better view.
"I think I'll stay here for awhile. It's nice. Quiet. Good view." Kara leaned against the doorway.
"You haven't figured out how to get down the stairs yet, have you?"
"Frak off. Sir," he added as an afterthought.
"Let me know if you need Sam to carry you back to bed," she called over her shoulder, walking away before she could hear his response.
She found Sam in the kitchen, Simon and Jean at the table, the three talking amiably. Sam was behind the counter, his hands busy, and when Kara got close enough she realized he'd found some actual food and was in the process of making lunch for everyone. She scoffed loudly, drawing their attention to her.
"You're cooking now? Are you trying to kill everyone?" She pulled out a chair and spun it around, straddling it and leaning her elbows on the back as she watched Sam.
"I don't know what you're talking about," he sniffed, eyes narrowing dangerously. This only encouraged Kara, who was happy to see he hadn't retreated to their bunk after they landed. Maybe he really was out of his funk, like he'd promised.
"You see, Doc," she said, enjoying herself. "Sam has this thing where he likes to cook, but he seriously sucks at it. It's rather tragic, actually. His cooking's even been known to make people sick—"
"OK," Sam broke in, pointing at her with the knife he was using, "That was one time, and—"
"Twice," Jean joined in, eyes bright. She held up two fingers and wiggled them around, making Kara and Simon laugh as Sam glared.
"Once," he insisted. "Nobody could ever prove that thing with Duck was caused by the soup."
"All I'm saying," Kara said as she turned to fully face Simon, "Is that you might want to make sure your infirmary is stocked and ready to go."
"I'm cutting up canned fruit to mix together, Kara. What exactly do you think I'm going to do?" Sam, exasperated, asked. Kara shrugged.
"I'm sure you'll find a way." She smiled coyly at him, saw him suppress a grin of his own, and knew they were OK, at least for now.
"What about you?" Jean asked Simon. "Do you cook, clean, do anything on this boat besides stick people back together?"
"Uh, I can make pasta, when we have any. Which is pretty much never. And Kaylee has been trying to teach me a little about engines. They're, uh…not really my thing." Kara snorted.
"Maybe if you paid more attention to the engine instead of the mechanic..." she trailed off as Simon turned pink.
"I don't...it's not...I'm...is it that obvious?"
"Only to people who have eyes," Jean teased, accepting the glass Sam handed her as he came around the table. He set some in front of Kara and Simon as well, then sat down too, choosing a seat next to Kara. They passed the bowl of fruit around and continued to tease the Doc. By the time Gaeta hobbled in and pulled out a chair they were all laughing. There wasn't much to laugh at anymore, and Kara enjoyed letting go and just having a tiny bit of fun for five frakking minutes. Even if they all knew it couldn't last.
**********
After selling of the cargo, and sending Inara and Book off for supplies, Mal found himself retreading a familiar path. With Zoe and Jayne close at his back he followed Badger's men down the maze of dark hallways that lead to his lair, wondering just how hard Badger was going to make this. He was a huge pain in the ass and Mal couldn't stand him, but as far as crooks went he was one of the more reliable ones. Most of the time. Mal just hoped he was in a good mood.
"Well, well, look who's come callin'!" Badger exclaimed as they were finally ushered into his office. "It's the mighty Malcolm Reynolds."
Perhaps a good mood had been too much to hope for.
"Badger, always a pleasure."
"That a fact? I seem to recall a certain reluctance to associate with my enterprise the last time you were on planet."
"And I seem to recall a certain reluctance to pay us for a job the time before that. But it all worked out, in the end, for everyone. So why don't we leave the past in the past and get to the matter at hand. I have a job I need done, and I think you'll have the contacts to accomplish it." Badger's eyebrows near disappeared up under his hat.
"You've got a job for me? Now, isn't this a twist." He crossed his arms, eyes shrewd, motioned for Mal to continue.
"I have somethin' I need, and I need someone else to do the acquirin'. I don't much care where it comes from just so long as I get it in a timely manner with all the merchandise intact and in working order."
"What type of merchandise?" Mal motioned for Jayne who flung a folded piece of paper at Badger. They watched in silence as he read through the list they'd put together with Jacob, of all the weapons the rebellion would need and could afford with the money they'd accumulated.
"This is quite a shoppin' list. I find myself curious as to why you need such toys." Mal smirked a little and shook his head.
"You're a businessman, Badger. You know better than to ask too many questions." Badger stood and walked around his desk.
"I am a businessman. And as such I have a business to protect. You're a loose cannon, Captain, one with a well known grudge. I ain't interested in armin' you if you're plannin' on some gorram crusade on behalf of your fellow browncoats."
"This ain't about the war," Mal said, skirting the truth. "I have no interest in provoking the Alliance or bringing trouble to you and yours. Can you make the deal or do I need to go elsewhere? As I said, we're on a schedule."
For some time Badger considered, looking from the paper to Mal to Zoe and back to the list again, muttering under his breath. Finally he motioned for one of his men and the two spoke in low tones, their backs turned for privacy. Eventually he returned to stand in front of Mal.
"What's my cut?"
The rest was easy, hashing over pricing and percentages, procedures for contact and pick up, all standard business. Badger would let them know before the end of the day when they could expect the cargo.
"You think he'll cause us problems?" Zoe asked when they walked back out into the light. Mal glanced around, taking in the mob of people, the smattering of feds throughout.
"He did seem mighty curious," he said as they started off back towards the ship, "But no more than I'd expect under the circumstances. It is an unusual request from us, and the type of cargo will make the whole thing extra delicate. But he wants the money. It's a good take for him."
"Damn near better take for him than us," Jayne grumbled, still tetchy about the split they'd agreed on.
"Still within reason," Mal answered, sparing him a glance as they walked past what was being advertized as the best congee in the 'Verse, but which more closely resembled lumpy glue mixed with horse piss. Smelled like it too, and they all held their breaths until they were well past the rundown stand. When it was safe to inhale again Mal turned back to Jayne.
"We agreed to bump up his cut because he's willing to push through a sale today or tomorrow. Ain't no one else around can move that quickly. Badger may be a wart on the hide of humanity, but he's a wart who knows who to talk to. So we give the man what he wants, dong ma?" Jayne grumbled a bit more before his mood suddenly shifted.
"Least the day's not a total loss. Me and Jean are gonna take care of gettin' all them newbies some proper guns later on." He smiled a bit when he said it, and puffed his chest up all proud like. Mal and Zoe looked at each other behind his back as Jayne walked ahead.
"You don't think—"
"No," Mal cut her off before she could finish. "I mean, it's Jayne, right?"
"Right," Zoe agreed uncertainly. Jayne liked women certainly, but he didn't get all excited about spending the afternoon clothed in a public place with one. Mal wasn't certain he was ready for a Jayne with a crush. With one last heavy look at Zoe, they left the subject and Badger's territory in the dust.
**********
Kara took her time adjusting the buckle on her belt, shifting everything around, trying to settle it all in a comfortable position. Clothes were clothes, but these were cut closer than she was used to. Still, Inara had done a good job picking styles and sizes. Knowing the companion's taste in clothing Kara had been a little weary of what she'd bring back. But the dull olive green pants almost matched her military fatigues, and the calf high boots they tucked into were sturdy and practical. The scooped neck on her black shirt was different, but it didn't dip low enough to be a problem.
Sam's clothes were very similar, though cut differently. His black shirt was a button down, with long sleeves he rolled to the elbow She looked over as he finished tying his boots and stood. She couldn't help a small laugh.
"Well, aren't we a pair." Sam grinned.
"At least she didn't bring us back dresses."
"I still think you'd look cute in a skirt," she teased, and Sam practically stuck out his tongue as he walked past her and led the way out the door and towards the cargo bay.
The rest of their group assembled as they finished dressing, all in variations of the same type of clothing; simple, functional, and drab enough to not stand out in a crowed. Gaeta was last, having needed help changing with his bad leg. Kara realized they hadn't worked out room assignments for Jean or Gaeta yet, who had still been sleeping in the infirmary at the insistence of Simon, and she wasn't sure where either had gotten ready. She made a mental note to talk to Mal about better accommodations for them later.
Having agreed earlier to meet the others at some food stand they all liked, the group headed out and down the ramp, Simon and River the only ones staying behind to watch over the ship.
As they weaved through the crowed, Kara struggled to take it all in. The dust, the smells in the air, the harsh sunlight unfiltered by a single cloud, the noise an unending roar as people shouted to each other either out of anger or necessity. Galactica had its own climate, its own environment. It had its own smells and noise, but it was nothing like this. Even New Caprica hadn't been like this. It really was a whole new world.
They started to move past the docks, into a more settled area. Shops and restaurants and cramped apartments were crowded in so close and high Kara could barely see the sky when she looked straight up. Kaylee led the way, almost skipping with energy and excitement, pushing through the crowd expertly and with little resistance considering her diminutive size.
"We don't always get to spend a lot of time off ship when we're on planet," Wash explained as she stopped momentarily to coo over some gilded trinket in the window of a shop. As they stood waiting for Inara to drag Kaylee away something caught Kara's eye. Wandering over to the building across the street, she stood staring at the poster tacked to the wall. She kept staring at it until she heard Sam come up behind her.
"What the frak?" he asked as he too read what it said. They looked at each other, then turned together and looked at Wash as he walked over. Kara motioned wordlessly to the wanted poster, the one with Simon and River's faces on it, the one that proclaimed them fugitives and offered what she was pretty sure was a substantial reward.
Wash's face went uncomfortable, and he rubbed the back of his neck as he darted a few looks to either side, making sure they weren't being watched. Seeing nothing, he quickly grabbed them and pulled them further from the incriminating document.
"Look, it's Simon's business to tell you, not mine. Well, or maybe Mal's. But either way, it's really, really not my place. They're not dangerous. They didn't do anything wrong, the Alliance just...just promise me you're not going to say anything, OK? At least until you talk to the Captain."
"Take it easy," Helo soothed, the others having seen the poster as well. "We're not going to say anything, right?" He looked around and Kara nodded her assent. She'd heard enough about the Alliance in the past few days to know them saying something didn't make it true. Still, it was confirmation of something Kara had been assuming all along. They were all still keeping certain secrets from each other.
As they started off again, slightly more subdued now, even Kaylee, Kara wondered how long they could go before the secrets started to bite them all in the ass.
**********
