Cowboy Bebop: "Hell's Heaven"
"It's been a while," Jet Black announced to no one in particular- maybe to the people he watched on the television, who were doing a newscast on a subject he really didn't care about. 'It's been a while since we've really gotten on with the chase,' he thought while waiting, determined, for Faye to catch her prey.
Faye Valentine weaved in and out of the rows of ten-foot piled-high crates set up in the warehouse. It was only dimly lit by the slivers of moonlight that were sent down through the windows set high up in the concrete walls. She had a gun out, ready to pounce on a bounty worth some desperately needed money. She had always found it funny how certain situations could stick you with unwanting people. That's the way she had found herself around Jet, even when Spike was still alive. Now, Spike's death had caused them to team up as bounty hunters. It used to be Spike that would get Jet's assignments and do the dirty work, though sometimes Jet would step in the mud, too, but now Faye took that place. She missed her usual chipping in whenever she wanted to. It was all too strange, personally, for her taste. A crate dislodged from one of the rows a few feet in front of her. "Stupid man, you just gave your position away. Not to mention, you have bad aim," Faye muttered as she took off in his direction. They could have easily played cat and mouse until he had gotten to the garage door, which was where he seemed to be headed when he found she had turned the corner of his aisle. Her shots rang out but missed as he ran to the other side. She ran about twenty paces behind but managed to keep up with him until he reached the garage door and shut it behind him. She panted with as much air as she could muster, giving herself a little break to look for the keypad. Once found, she clicked the big glowing red button into place and waited for the door to come up. She dodged under only to find herself in an alleyway where she could hear a car taking off on the main road. She hurtled herself after it and swung around the corner, gun aimed only to be fired at by several men inside the vehicle. Knowing she was outnumbered and that she would never be able to catch up with them in time, Faye turned and kicked the wall, cursing, "Aah, shit!"
"I'm starved! Don't we have any food?" Faye moaned, tying her red shirt in a knot at the bottom, letting it hang loosely on her shoulders and patting her stomach as she relaxed on the couch. "No, because we have no money," Jet answered, adamantly. "What?" she asked, defensively. "I'm not the only one to blame here." "Listen, missy," Jet pointed a finger at her, angrily. "It's your fault we're low on money and are left with grumbling stomachs. You know I can't hunt down bounties as well as you can." He patted his damaged arm. "Starvation sure makes people crabby." She didn't mention the fact that he had never used his metallic arm as an excuse before. Why not think of another way to make money so we can get by during these times?" she wondered, carelessly. "Like what?" he said, considering the thought carefully. "We could sell Spike's ship," she bit her tongue. That was their last remaining reminder of the one who had affected both of their lives so much-even though they couldn't admit it. The awkward silence between them was broken by Jet's remark. "It's not like he'll be needing it. For once, Faye, I think you might actually have a good idea."
The Swordfish II had been salvaged from Mars. It was named after the high-speed combat it was built for. Somewhere stashed inside had been a certificate saying to give it to Jet Black if owner was not found. The owner hadn't been found. Now, they were selling the red-painted ship outside a casino on Venus. So far, no buyers. Some honeymooners had stopped by, completely drunk, saying they had just been married by Elvis. Unfortunately, they had practically no money. Next, a hot rod teenager stopped by, loving the look of the ride, hoping people would judge him because of it, but never bought it because his mother came along. There were many onlookers but hardly anybody needed a ship designed for fighting.
Except for one stranger.
Jesse Chiaroscuro flipped the remaining poker chips he hadn't gotten a chance to use, and spun them out on the tiled floor behind him. He heard some large thuds and grunts of pain behind him. He kept on running, weaving in and out of the strangers grouped together in the lobby and then outside. They were crowded around a large object, big, red, scratched and looming. A ship-and not just any ship. One that he could possibly use. He ran forward, reaching it, and the young woman exhibiting it. "Are you selling this ship?" he rushed up to her. "Yes, for only 350 K!" she sounded all excited and it vibrated into her movements. "350 K? That much for that scrap?" "Aah, but it purrs like a happy kitten," she cooed. He glanced behind him and said, "I'll take it." He pulled out some cash and handed it to her. "Where are the keys?" "Right here," she dangled it from the tips of her fingers but brought it back down before he could grab it. "This is 30,000 wulong. I'm not sure I have the change," she told him nervously. "Keep the change." "But." "Listen, sweetheart, I gotta run." She handed him the key. "Where are you off to in a hurry?" she asked and spun to see he had already turned the ignition.
"I'm helping you this time." "What? You don't trust me to get the job done?" Faye pouted, innocently. She was back on the Bebop, Jet's ship, with quite a chump of change in her hand. "30,000 wulong a piece," Jet muttered, digesting the amount and the information that followed. They were watching a show, Big Shot 2, designed to be viewed by bounty hunters, giving out new names and rewards. The original Big Shot had been cancelled for one reason or another, but they brought it back on the air with the original hosts. The theme of the show was the "Old West," since "cowboy" was used as slang for a bounty hunter's occupation in this day and age. "Their names are Raphael and Antonio Reostroni," the African American with the fuzzy hair said. "Those bad boys stole an antidote, the only one for the deadly disease Facefear," his female costar with blonde hair said, all spooked. "They sure did. Scary stuff, that Facefear. Now, Raphael and Antonio are fraternal twins, you see. They think alike. That's all the bounties we have for you today, folks." "Have fun, cowboys," she blew them a kiss and static filled the nearly broken television set. "That's sick," Jet spewed. "Steal a cure so more can die." He looked back at Faye. "This isn't going to be easy."
"You let them go!" Jet roared. "I didn't have a choice! They threatened me with the disease!" Jet furrowed his brow at this. "How could they contain it?" His man from the ISSP leaned forward. Jet had connections from the days when he was in the galaxy police force. "They made it." "What?"
Faye heard soft mumbling. Indistinct. She slowed her pace, hoping to go unnoticed in her bright yellow clothing. "I thought you'd be a woman. Who was that I spoke to?" It was a sharp, harsh female voice. "It was a trusted friend. If anyone else was on the line, they wouldn't expect me either." Faye froze. This person sounded so familiar. Who was he? She frowned, a crease setting in between her eyes as she strained to remember. His collar was flipped up around his chin. She saw only the back of him. Silence. As if the source was trying to decide whether or not to reveal needed information. Faye shook away the clouds in her head and concentrated on the conversation. Whoever it was was getting away with her source. She couldn't interrupt now because the source might split. She'd hear what she needed to hear and catch this mystery guy afterwards with a little surprise. "The last I heard from the twins, they said they were to be a part of that musical festival going on in town. They'll be doing that until they can figure out all the mixtures in the cure, and get rid of it. They're setting up in the center of town tonight." The stranger slipped the source some wulongs and they departed. Faye followed the stranger secretively. At least, she didn't have to pay the source. The mysterious man walked swiftly with purpose, out of the door and into the street. Faye was stopped before she could take the same path. "Hey, sexy," a big, burly man said to her. "Ugh, get out of my way," she shoved past him, but by the time she should have caught up with the stranger, he was no longer there. She spun around, unaware that he was watching her from the roof of the building. She ran to the center of town.
It wasn't hard to find the bounty. The twins used the technique of hiding in plain view. Unfortunately, they should have been careful to whom they voiced their whereabouts. They were skinny, pathetically so, and didn't look very strong. Jesse approached Antonio first. He pulled out a gun and held it to the man's back. He dropped the box with wires to hook up instruments and microphones on the ground. "You're coming with me. Where's your twin?" Suddenly, he felt a sharp jab in his upper arm. "You don't want Facefear, do you?" a man said behind him. He figured it was Raphael. "Let my brother go." "Go ahead, stick me. Once I'm through taking you scum to the police, I'll have the cure in my hands. And don't tell me you don't have the cure-- guaranteed, it's probably in a place I don't want to reach--because you're not stupid enough to leave it out of realm of your grasp." He spun around, breaking the needle in his arm, and had them both in a matter of seconds. "You!" someone gasped. It was the pretty woman who had sold him the ship. "Yeah.me," he replied, evenly. Faye recognized that smooth-talking voice now. "You got away with my source and now my bounty." She rested her hands on her hips. "Next time, you might want to put your name on it." The two men were wriggling in his strong hands. "Faye Valentine." She raised an eyebrow. "I've got an idea. Why don't you team up with me? Every bounty we catch, we'll split the money sixty-forty. Of course, I get the sixty percent." "Fifty-fifty." Her face dropped. She was surprised he was even considering her offer. She didn't give herself enough credit. "But this bounty's all mine." "Great! I'll just come with you back to the Bebop!" She clasped her hands together. For once, he smiled. A half smile, but good enough.
"It's been a while," Jet Black announced to no one in particular- maybe to the people he watched on the television, who were doing a newscast on a subject he really didn't care about. 'It's been a while since we've really gotten on with the chase,' he thought while waiting, determined, for Faye to catch her prey.
Faye Valentine weaved in and out of the rows of ten-foot piled-high crates set up in the warehouse. It was only dimly lit by the slivers of moonlight that were sent down through the windows set high up in the concrete walls. She had a gun out, ready to pounce on a bounty worth some desperately needed money. She had always found it funny how certain situations could stick you with unwanting people. That's the way she had found herself around Jet, even when Spike was still alive. Now, Spike's death had caused them to team up as bounty hunters. It used to be Spike that would get Jet's assignments and do the dirty work, though sometimes Jet would step in the mud, too, but now Faye took that place. She missed her usual chipping in whenever she wanted to. It was all too strange, personally, for her taste. A crate dislodged from one of the rows a few feet in front of her. "Stupid man, you just gave your position away. Not to mention, you have bad aim," Faye muttered as she took off in his direction. They could have easily played cat and mouse until he had gotten to the garage door, which was where he seemed to be headed when he found she had turned the corner of his aisle. Her shots rang out but missed as he ran to the other side. She ran about twenty paces behind but managed to keep up with him until he reached the garage door and shut it behind him. She panted with as much air as she could muster, giving herself a little break to look for the keypad. Once found, she clicked the big glowing red button into place and waited for the door to come up. She dodged under only to find herself in an alleyway where she could hear a car taking off on the main road. She hurtled herself after it and swung around the corner, gun aimed only to be fired at by several men inside the vehicle. Knowing she was outnumbered and that she would never be able to catch up with them in time, Faye turned and kicked the wall, cursing, "Aah, shit!"
"I'm starved! Don't we have any food?" Faye moaned, tying her red shirt in a knot at the bottom, letting it hang loosely on her shoulders and patting her stomach as she relaxed on the couch. "No, because we have no money," Jet answered, adamantly. "What?" she asked, defensively. "I'm not the only one to blame here." "Listen, missy," Jet pointed a finger at her, angrily. "It's your fault we're low on money and are left with grumbling stomachs. You know I can't hunt down bounties as well as you can." He patted his damaged arm. "Starvation sure makes people crabby." She didn't mention the fact that he had never used his metallic arm as an excuse before. Why not think of another way to make money so we can get by during these times?" she wondered, carelessly. "Like what?" he said, considering the thought carefully. "We could sell Spike's ship," she bit her tongue. That was their last remaining reminder of the one who had affected both of their lives so much-even though they couldn't admit it. The awkward silence between them was broken by Jet's remark. "It's not like he'll be needing it. For once, Faye, I think you might actually have a good idea."
The Swordfish II had been salvaged from Mars. It was named after the high-speed combat it was built for. Somewhere stashed inside had been a certificate saying to give it to Jet Black if owner was not found. The owner hadn't been found. Now, they were selling the red-painted ship outside a casino on Venus. So far, no buyers. Some honeymooners had stopped by, completely drunk, saying they had just been married by Elvis. Unfortunately, they had practically no money. Next, a hot rod teenager stopped by, loving the look of the ride, hoping people would judge him because of it, but never bought it because his mother came along. There were many onlookers but hardly anybody needed a ship designed for fighting.
Except for one stranger.
Jesse Chiaroscuro flipped the remaining poker chips he hadn't gotten a chance to use, and spun them out on the tiled floor behind him. He heard some large thuds and grunts of pain behind him. He kept on running, weaving in and out of the strangers grouped together in the lobby and then outside. They were crowded around a large object, big, red, scratched and looming. A ship-and not just any ship. One that he could possibly use. He ran forward, reaching it, and the young woman exhibiting it. "Are you selling this ship?" he rushed up to her. "Yes, for only 350 K!" she sounded all excited and it vibrated into her movements. "350 K? That much for that scrap?" "Aah, but it purrs like a happy kitten," she cooed. He glanced behind him and said, "I'll take it." He pulled out some cash and handed it to her. "Where are the keys?" "Right here," she dangled it from the tips of her fingers but brought it back down before he could grab it. "This is 30,000 wulong. I'm not sure I have the change," she told him nervously. "Keep the change." "But." "Listen, sweetheart, I gotta run." She handed him the key. "Where are you off to in a hurry?" she asked and spun to see he had already turned the ignition.
"I'm helping you this time." "What? You don't trust me to get the job done?" Faye pouted, innocently. She was back on the Bebop, Jet's ship, with quite a chump of change in her hand. "30,000 wulong a piece," Jet muttered, digesting the amount and the information that followed. They were watching a show, Big Shot 2, designed to be viewed by bounty hunters, giving out new names and rewards. The original Big Shot had been cancelled for one reason or another, but they brought it back on the air with the original hosts. The theme of the show was the "Old West," since "cowboy" was used as slang for a bounty hunter's occupation in this day and age. "Their names are Raphael and Antonio Reostroni," the African American with the fuzzy hair said. "Those bad boys stole an antidote, the only one for the deadly disease Facefear," his female costar with blonde hair said, all spooked. "They sure did. Scary stuff, that Facefear. Now, Raphael and Antonio are fraternal twins, you see. They think alike. That's all the bounties we have for you today, folks." "Have fun, cowboys," she blew them a kiss and static filled the nearly broken television set. "That's sick," Jet spewed. "Steal a cure so more can die." He looked back at Faye. "This isn't going to be easy."
"You let them go!" Jet roared. "I didn't have a choice! They threatened me with the disease!" Jet furrowed his brow at this. "How could they contain it?" His man from the ISSP leaned forward. Jet had connections from the days when he was in the galaxy police force. "They made it." "What?"
Faye heard soft mumbling. Indistinct. She slowed her pace, hoping to go unnoticed in her bright yellow clothing. "I thought you'd be a woman. Who was that I spoke to?" It was a sharp, harsh female voice. "It was a trusted friend. If anyone else was on the line, they wouldn't expect me either." Faye froze. This person sounded so familiar. Who was he? She frowned, a crease setting in between her eyes as she strained to remember. His collar was flipped up around his chin. She saw only the back of him. Silence. As if the source was trying to decide whether or not to reveal needed information. Faye shook away the clouds in her head and concentrated on the conversation. Whoever it was was getting away with her source. She couldn't interrupt now because the source might split. She'd hear what she needed to hear and catch this mystery guy afterwards with a little surprise. "The last I heard from the twins, they said they were to be a part of that musical festival going on in town. They'll be doing that until they can figure out all the mixtures in the cure, and get rid of it. They're setting up in the center of town tonight." The stranger slipped the source some wulongs and they departed. Faye followed the stranger secretively. At least, she didn't have to pay the source. The mysterious man walked swiftly with purpose, out of the door and into the street. Faye was stopped before she could take the same path. "Hey, sexy," a big, burly man said to her. "Ugh, get out of my way," she shoved past him, but by the time she should have caught up with the stranger, he was no longer there. She spun around, unaware that he was watching her from the roof of the building. She ran to the center of town.
It wasn't hard to find the bounty. The twins used the technique of hiding in plain view. Unfortunately, they should have been careful to whom they voiced their whereabouts. They were skinny, pathetically so, and didn't look very strong. Jesse approached Antonio first. He pulled out a gun and held it to the man's back. He dropped the box with wires to hook up instruments and microphones on the ground. "You're coming with me. Where's your twin?" Suddenly, he felt a sharp jab in his upper arm. "You don't want Facefear, do you?" a man said behind him. He figured it was Raphael. "Let my brother go." "Go ahead, stick me. Once I'm through taking you scum to the police, I'll have the cure in my hands. And don't tell me you don't have the cure-- guaranteed, it's probably in a place I don't want to reach--because you're not stupid enough to leave it out of realm of your grasp." He spun around, breaking the needle in his arm, and had them both in a matter of seconds. "You!" someone gasped. It was the pretty woman who had sold him the ship. "Yeah.me," he replied, evenly. Faye recognized that smooth-talking voice now. "You got away with my source and now my bounty." She rested her hands on her hips. "Next time, you might want to put your name on it." The two men were wriggling in his strong hands. "Faye Valentine." She raised an eyebrow. "I've got an idea. Why don't you team up with me? Every bounty we catch, we'll split the money sixty-forty. Of course, I get the sixty percent." "Fifty-fifty." Her face dropped. She was surprised he was even considering her offer. She didn't give herself enough credit. "But this bounty's all mine." "Great! I'll just come with you back to the Bebop!" She clasped her hands together. For once, he smiled. A half smile, but good enough.