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A/N: This is an alternate version of this story that I am testing out to get some feedback. After re-posting the first three chapters, I started to think more critically about the style in which I've been writing it. I realized that I tend to use a lot of exposition, spending significant amounts of time inside characters' heads revealing their thoughts and emotions. One theory of storytelling is that you should show rather than tell, and the expository style that I've been using seems to do a lot more telling rather than showing. I wanted to try to change that. I had already decided that I would specifically not get into River's head in this story since my previous effort spent a lot of time there, so it was just a matter of doing the same with all of the other characters as well. My goal is to let their expressions, dialogue, and behavior convey what they are thinking and feeling rather than the internal monologue I relied upon so much. It also occurred to me that such a style is much more like writing for a T.V. or movie since the audience's is limited by what the actors can perform physically. Therefore, I feel like this change will allow the reader more freedom to interpret for themselves what a character's motivation might be, rather than it being handed to them in the narrative. If you have an opinion you would like to share on either style, please write a review. I am looking for honest criticism, so, "This is stupid. I don't like it," or "Your writing sucks," aren't very helpful. Please be constructive but considerate is all I ask. Thank you!
Jordan Selkirk, Lieutenant Commander of the I.A.V. Brigham Conover, waited by one of the airlocks in the secondary docking bay. Beneath her feet, the deck shuddered faintly as the vessel on the other side made contact. While she waited for the new arrivals to finish their docking procedures, she fidgeted a little, straightening her uniform jacket and adjusting her cap atop her dirty blonde hair which was pulled into a simple bun at the nape of her neck. When the airlock portal finally gave a hiss, the door opened to reveal two tall men in simple black suits and ties stepping over the threshold before her.
"Welcome aboard the Conover, gentlemen. I'm Lieutenant Commander Selkirk," she introduced herself with a smile and extended a hand. Her smile rapidly faded, though, as her hand hung out there, ignored. Neither of the two men made any reciprocating gesture. They just glanced around with cool detachment, not speaking or even looking at her. They were both at least a head taller than her. The one on her right had a face that was all bony angles, with large ears and a jutting chin. His dark, dense eyebrows looked almost comically out of place when paired with his thinning hair. His deep-set eyes regarded his surroundings in a way that was reminiscent of a big cat on the prowl. Despite the near-smirk on his lips, there was not a hint of humor anywhere in his expression. The other man had a bulbous nose over a small mouth with thin lips that curled down at the edges. His high cheekbones drew his cheeks into deep depressions. A small flip of red hair curled out over his rear-sloping brow. While his partner had a sort of feline intensity about his gaze, the red-head simply stared with a dull coldness that betrayed no emotion whatsoever.
The men's eyes suddenly met on Jordan simultaneously, and an unexpected chill ran up her spine all the way to the top of her scalp.
"Thank you for meeting us, Lieutenant Commander," the balding one spoke first, smiling. The change of expression did not alter his predator-like stare, and his words, although pleasant, contained nothing at all that resembled gratitude.
"You're welcome," she replied after swallowing heavily. "I... *ahem*, I understand that you're here about the derelict we recovered, so I imagine…"
"What do you know about it?" the red-haired one interrupted her. Folding his blue hands in front of him, he shifted his stance subtly so that he was almost shoulder to shoulder with his partner. The other assumed the same posture, and both sets of eyes bored into her. What would have seemed like intense curiosity in anyone else became something far more menacing with them. The hairs on the back of Jordan's neck prickled to life and she took an instinctive step back.
"Very little, actually," she answered after a split second where her voice seemed to vanish. "I was in charge of the investigation, but I wasn't involved in the actual examination. That was conducted by Dr. Yoshimoto, our chief of forensics, and his team. I simply ensured that he and his staff followed the instructions we received for processing the ship. Everything was kept under lockdown, and only I was authorized to allow anyone access. However, Dr. Yoshimoto has prepared a full report if you would like to meet with him." The threatening posture of the two men nearly looming over her eased somewhat.
"Yes, lieutenant commander. We would," the balding one said, smiling again.
"Then if you'll follow me, please, I'll take you down to the lab," Jordan answered, clipping her tone slightly. She spun abruptly and started down the corridor. Their footsteps fell in behind her, almost in perfect unison with each other so that it was hard to tell if only one or both of them were following. She glanced back and got another shiver of apprehension. Keeping her pace brisk, she wound through the corridors of the vast cruiser and entered one of the lifts to take them to the forensic deck. As soon as the doors closed, though, her eyes kept flicking to each side nervously, trying to catch a glimpse of the two men in her periphery as they stood behind her. The atmosphere in the compartment grew increasingly stifling for some reason, and a little bead of sweat began to trickle down one cheek. The instant the elevator doors opened on their floor, she practically bolted out ahead of them, taking a few deep, almost panicked breaths as the oppressiveness of the moment was finally relieved. The two men stepped out unhurriedly after her and waited. Scowling a bit at her reaction to a bit of albeit unusual claustrophobia, she wiped the drop of sweat away with an irritated swipe and continued leading them on. Her steps increasing just a tick, she brought them the last few paces to the anteroom outside of the forensics lab. Beyond the small windows in the hermetic doors, technicians robed in white scrubs, facemasks, and caps moved about. She paused at the intercom on the wall and pressed the call button.
"Yes?" someone answered after a few seconds' wait.
"It's Lieutenant Commander Selkirk. Please inform Dr. Yoshimoto that the visitors are here."
"Yes ma'am," the voice acknowledged.
"Dr. Yoshimoto will be out shortly," Jordan turned to the two men. Neither was paying attention to her anymore, their gazes now intent on the functions going on beyond the doors.
"Your cooperation has been appreciated," the bony one answered offhand without even looking at her, dismissive. Her scowl returning, she did not make to leave but stood there beside them in awkward silence for a few minutes until the lab doors opened with the characteristic hiss and rush of air. Dr. Yoshimoto stepped through, tugging his surgical mask down over his chin. His dark head was bent over the digital folio he carried.
"Sorry to keep you waiting," he spoke without looking up at first. "I'm Doctor…" his words caught when he was met by the two pairs of eerie, penetrating eyes.
"Dr. Yoshimoto," the tall man with red hair finished for him with almost a smile, though his lips just could not seem to form into one.
"These men are here for your report on the derelict," Jordan stepped in, bypassing introductions since they had never even offered her their names.
"Oh… um, yes," Dr. Yoshimoto uncharacteristically fumbled his words, closing the folio. His gaze flitted between the two men uneasily. "I assume you would like to inspect the vessel yourselves?" he asked, indicating their blue gloves. "Lieutenant Commander Selkirk can let us in."
"We're here for your report, Doctor," the red-haired man went on without taking note of the offer.
"Uh… of course. Here it is." Dr. Yoshimoto extended the folio towards the men along with an optical data disk. The balding one took the folio and immediately began to scan through it. Meanwhile, his partner slipped the disk into a pocket within his suit jacket and settled an expectant gaze on the doctor. Yoshimoto was almost writhing with discomfort now beneath the stare. He cleared his throat nervously. "The raw data and test results should all be in there, as well as the ship's logs. No one on my team opened them, of course, just as we were told." The red-head continued staring and waiting in silence. The doctor swallowed and went on. "We conducted the investigation as instructed. We pumped the atmosphere out of the ship and ran it through the spectrometers and bio-sensors. It contained the typical microbes and traces of human detritus. Nothing unusual. Then we swabbed down all of the interior surfaces and analyzed those as well. We found nothing unusual from those locations either. DNA samples were isolated from the skin and hair traces and run through the central database. There was a match. A Mr. Jubal Early. He was the registered owner of the ship, though where he is now, I can't say. There was no evidence of violence or foul play, although…"
"There was another person present," the red-head interrupted. It was a statement, not a question.
"Uh, yes, there… there was a second DNA sample recovered," the doctor confirmed, his expression just as surprised as Jordan's given that the man had deduced that fact without looking at the report. "There were only very minute traces of it," Yoshimoto continued explaining. "We're lucky we even found it. It was not from Mr. Early. I ran it through the central database as well, but there was not enough to determine a definitive match." The red-head reached into his pocket and removed a small sealed tube containing what looked like blood.
"Run the sample against this," he handed the tube to the doctor. Yoshimoto examined it for a second.
"We'll wait, Doctor," the balding one said, looking up from the folio. The two men fixed their disconcerting gazes on him again.
"Oh, um… certainly. Wait here. It will only take a few minutes." The doctor turned and swiped his ident card into the door's security panel, then punched in the security code to open the doors. Tugging his mask back over his face, he stepped into the lab. Jordan watched through the window while he headed over to a prep station and started working. After about fifteen minutes, he exited the lab again. His eyebrows were arched in disbelief as he read over the apparent results of the test.
"It's a match," he confirmed to the waiting men and Jordan.
"You're certain?" asked the balding one.
"The sample recovered from the ship wasn't a complete strand, but there was enough of it for the test to still be within the ninety-five percent confidence interval. They're from the same person." The men shared a look, some wordless communication passing between them in their expressions.
"Thank you," the red-head said, his thin lips pressing into that near-smile again. He extended his hand out, and Dr. Yoshimoto hesitated a second before grasping it.
"You're welcome."
"The vial, Doctor," the man corrected in frigid tones. Dr. Yoshimoto practically jumped and dropped the man's hand like he had been shocked.
"Oh, right." He hastily dug the tube out of his lab coat and placed it into the blue-gloved palm. The man returned it to his suit jacket.
"Your assistance has been appreciated," the balding one said, including Jordan in his empty expression of thanks. "Please make sure all of your files and the evidence you collected are destroyed," he instructed. Jordan blinked a few times, bewildered for an instant by the request.
"I'm sorry, but may I ask why?" she asked.
"We have all the information we need," the red-head explained. "Destroy it all, lieutenant commander," his tone was unmistakably an order, and it carried an ominous implication beneath. Cowing back a tad, the doctor nodded his assent almost automatically while Jordan's countenance devolved into confusion. Both men turned in unison and started to leave the anteroom.
"What about the ship?" she blurted to their backs, taking a few steps after them.
"Dispose of it with the rest," one of the men answered, though since neither turned around, it wasn't clear which one spoke. "We can find our own way back." Jordan trotted to a halt and stared as they strode down the corridor, disappearing around the nearest corner.
"They want us to get rid of everything?" Dr. Yoshimoto murmured, joining her in her incredulity. "They barely even read the report. This doesn't make any sense. Who the hell are those two?" he turned a questing glance at Jordan. She shook her head, throwing aside her confusion and resuming her professional demeanor.
"I have to report back to the captain," she said. "I'll follow up with you afterward."
"Yes, ma'am," the doctor affirmed. "All that work for nothing. What a waste," he grumbled as he disappeared back inside the lab.
"Captain," she called into her com earpiece, as she turned from the lab and started making her way back to the bridge.
"Go ahead, lieutenant commander."
"Our guests are leaving now."
"Leaving?" an edge of suspicion tipped the captain's voice.
"They claimed they had everything they needed. They examined Dr. Yoshimoto's report briefly, had him run one more test, and then requested everything pertaining to the investigation be destroyed." There was a few seconds' silence.
"Typical," the captain grunted when he finally responded. "I don't have time to waste on this fen bian. If they said to get rid of it all, that's their prerogative. See that it's done, then return to the bridge, lieutenant commander. We've just received new orders from High Command."
"New orders, sir?" Jordan questioned, surprised by that statement.
"Special assignment," the captain explained. "We're to set course for Harvest immediately. There will be a command staff briefing at 1630."
"Aye sir," she replied. She beat a hasty march back to the bridge.
Fastened side by side into their seats, the men's ship lurched as it detached from the docking bay of the Conover.
"He found her," the balding one mentioned, his eyes on the viewport.
"Yes. And she was on board his ship," the red-head agreed. His gloved hands worked the helm as he maneuvered away from the massive cruiser.
"But somehow she managed to escape. And the bounty hunter is missing."
"We can safely assume he is dead."
"Yes. A fortunate convenience."
"He must have located the ship." The red-head reached into his jacket pocket and handed his partner the optical disk. The balding one connected it to a drive on his console and initiated some commands on his screen.
"Decrypting the log now," he confirmed. They sat in silence for a few moments while the computer worked. When it was done, the balding one began combing through the files. "There is a nav sat transponder code. Initiating a search for the associated vessel." It did not take long for the results to come back. "Positive match to Firefly-class transport Serenity,registered to Malcolm Reynolds. The last trajectory from the navigation log indicates the inner Red Sun system as the most likely destination."
"Excellent." Both men's faces crept into near smiles. The red-head engaged the main drive and their vessel leapt off into the black.