Chapter 7
Jet woke to the sounds of Ein barking insistently. He sat up and tried to orientated himself, the events of the night before flashed though his mind, forcing the images back as he stood and stretched. He had fallen asleep on the couch in the living room, Ed curled on top of his chest. Spike had drank himself into oblivion, then stumbled off to his room. Jet didn't know why, but he had a feeling it had to do with the girl. With Spike, it always had to do with a girl. Ed had wandered off as usual, she never seemed to stay still for long. He left the living room and poked his head into his bedroom to see if Obsidian was awake only to turn rapidly around and yell for Spike. She was gone.
**
Obsidian had woken hours before anyone else and took in her surroundings carefully. She was on a bed in a room she didn't know, wearing clothes she didn't own, somewhere she had no idea where she was. This was decidedly not good. She quickly took stock of what she could see in the room, and found a maroon scarf hanging on a hook under a cream colored fedora, a large gray winter coat, and some pillows. Whoever lived here didn't seem much for decoration, and kept the room tidy. She opened the drawers and poked around a bit, and gauged the guy's size at much bigger than her. It was time for a hasty getaway.
She had hobbled out the door with the coat and scarf on and several pairs of stolen socks on her feet since her shoes and clothes seemed to have gone missing. It was about that time she saw him, the guy from the other day, Jet. She wasn't sure how long she'd been out, but from how rested she felt, it had been at least the night. She peeked in doorways looking for the exit, being as quiet as she could, lest she wake the sleeping hunter. Sid knew how wrecked she was and didn't think she was up for another game of chase. When she poked her head into the kitchen, her stomach growled and she decided to take advantage of the food she saw within.
She slipped the refrigerator door open soundlessly and fished through the contents looking for food, what she found on the other hand was not what she was expecting. The butt of a gun brushed her hand as she reached for a half-eaten sandwich, and she took them both. The gun had no clip but after checking the freezer she found it. Obsidian could not even begin to imagine what kind of a man kept a gun in the fridge, nor did she want to. All she wanted to do was beat a hasty retreat and lick her wounds for a while. The next room she poked her head into had some kid she didn't know and a dog sleeping peacefully on a bed. The shutting door made a tiny click as the latch caught.
Obsidian looked around the living area and counted her options, barring secret passageways and hidden doors, the stairs were her last hope. She knew that there was no way she was going to hobble up the steps quietly, so she sat down and inched her way up, one step at a time. When she had made it to the top, she was relived to find that someone had left the door slightly ajar. She slipped out quietly. The hall was empty and the swish of her socks echoed in the darkness. She made her way slowly down the corridor looking for an avenue of escape, but finding none. She was hurting, frustrated, and starting to get tired again as she walked through the never-ending maze that seemed to be a ship of some kind. Finally, giving up or enacting a tactical retreat, she wasn't sure, Obsidian curled up in a corner of what appeared to be a cargo bay and let loose her tears.
**
Jet rounded up the remaining crew and set them to looking. Ed took the living areas as Jet and Spike split the huge amount of cargo space. Together they would all search the 142 meters of decks, rotating sections, and rooms that made up the Bebop. Each set off alone, with the exception of Ed and Ein. Jet took the front cargo bays and Spike, still hung over, took the back areas. After several hours all they had managed to find were her discarded clothes in the bathroom. Spike had had enough.
"Look, we got a dog." He said exasperated, "Why don't we just use it to track her?"
"Ein!" Ed squealed causing Spike to flinch and wish for aspirin, "Now you're a detective woof-woof!"
"Calm down will you?" Spike gritted out, his left eye twitching. He seemed more edgy than Jet had seen him in a while.
Jet looked at Spike suspiciously. "Spike, what do you know? Don't hold out on us here."
Spike looked down then up at Jet with a sigh; for once he wasn't wearing the usual smirk. "Look, I know this kid. She was trained to be invisible, to fight, to kill, and to not be caught. Hell, I taught her some of it. If she's still on the ship, and Jet, that's a pretty big fucking if, she's probably hurt and confused."
"So this is the Obsidian that you hoped it wasn't." Jet grimaced. "Great."
Spike nodded. "Yeah, it's her all right. I haven't seen her in four years, but the kid is definitely the one I was afraid it was. Go ahead and start with out me, I need to grab something before I join you."
"Are you sure?" Jet asked slightly confused.
"Yeah, I'm sure, I'll catch up to you." Spike nodded as he walked into his room.
"All right." Jet nodded. "Ed, I want you to stay and call us if she comes back in here."
Jet went down to the bathroom and picked up the discarded scarf. He knelt down next to Ein and let him get the scent of their prey. Ein seemed to know exactly what was expected of him and before Jet could even say anything, he was off, nose to the ground following the girl's frantic path. Jet followed closely behind as Ein dashed down the winding corridors that made up the back halls of the bebop. Obsidian had gone in the wrong direction if she had wanted to get out, taking a right when she should have taken a left, and Jet thanked whatever deity that was watching out for the girl that she had done so. She was in no condition to be wandering around in the middle of a Martian winter.
Ein dashed into one of the smaller cargo bays, there were piles of boxes everywhere. Even Jet had forgotten what they originally contained, but some of them had labels on them from Jet's old apartment on Ganymede. Most of his belongings from that time brought back painful memories of Alisa and he didn't want to be reminded of that time. The wounds still felt too fresh, and he liked to pretend that he could forget. He picked his way through the boxes following Ein, then came up short when he saw her. She was curled up on the floor, wearing his coat and scarf. Her feet were bundled up in what looked like around four pairs of his socks. She looked so peaceful and innocent. Then he saw the gun.
It was Spike's, the one that he kept in the back of the fridge. Near as Jet could tell, she looked like she had cried herself to sleep holding the Jericho 941 pressed against her cheek. Ein barked insistently as if to say I found her, and she stirred, then rapidly sat up, gun pointed and slightly wavering. Her left eye was an ugly purple color, which provided a startling contrast with her crystal blue eyes. She was definitely awake and aware of her surroundings this time and her eyes narrowed when they, and the gun, focused on Jet.
"I'm not going back." She stated flatly as he raised his hands in a sign of surrender.
"That's good, because I had no intention of sending you back." Jet remained calm and tried to make his voice friendlier. "You were hurt, I brought you here and had the Doc come and patch you up, but you aren't supposed to be on your feet for about a week."
"I suppose you want a reward?" She said cynically, bitterness and fear shining through.
Jet's heart hurt to see this small girl hurt so badly in her few years. "No, I just want you to heal and feel better."
"Why?" She sneered, "So you can turn me over to the cops? They'll just send me back to him and I won't go."
Suddenly her eyes took on a dangerous glint, and she turned the gun on herself. "I'll kill myself now before I let you do that."
Jet took a half step forward, as if to try and stop her. His eyes were wide and desperate, fear open for her to see. His look didn't suggest a fear of monetary loss, but rather genuine concern for her. She paused in her empty threat, looking into his eyes, desperately wanting for a moment to believe him. Jet could see it in her; she needed to trust in someone, something, anything other than the certainty of death and harshness.
"Obsidian stop this now."
Spike's voice rang out clearly through the cargo bay. Neither Jet, nor Sid had heard him come in. Obsidian let the gun dip from its deadly position under her chin and looked about, keeping Jet in her line of sight as she did. Spike sauntered in with his usual swagger.
"I know you weren't raised to behave like this." He said calmly, "I should know, shouldn't I?"
"Spike." She hissed and pointed the gun at him.
"The one and only." He said confidently.
"But you're dead." The gun wavered, as did her voice.
"I've heard that rumor." Spike smiled at her.
Her eyes grew hard and angry. "Betrayer."
She pulled the trigger.
Jet woke to the sounds of Ein barking insistently. He sat up and tried to orientated himself, the events of the night before flashed though his mind, forcing the images back as he stood and stretched. He had fallen asleep on the couch in the living room, Ed curled on top of his chest. Spike had drank himself into oblivion, then stumbled off to his room. Jet didn't know why, but he had a feeling it had to do with the girl. With Spike, it always had to do with a girl. Ed had wandered off as usual, she never seemed to stay still for long. He left the living room and poked his head into his bedroom to see if Obsidian was awake only to turn rapidly around and yell for Spike. She was gone.
**
Obsidian had woken hours before anyone else and took in her surroundings carefully. She was on a bed in a room she didn't know, wearing clothes she didn't own, somewhere she had no idea where she was. This was decidedly not good. She quickly took stock of what she could see in the room, and found a maroon scarf hanging on a hook under a cream colored fedora, a large gray winter coat, and some pillows. Whoever lived here didn't seem much for decoration, and kept the room tidy. She opened the drawers and poked around a bit, and gauged the guy's size at much bigger than her. It was time for a hasty getaway.
She had hobbled out the door with the coat and scarf on and several pairs of stolen socks on her feet since her shoes and clothes seemed to have gone missing. It was about that time she saw him, the guy from the other day, Jet. She wasn't sure how long she'd been out, but from how rested she felt, it had been at least the night. She peeked in doorways looking for the exit, being as quiet as she could, lest she wake the sleeping hunter. Sid knew how wrecked she was and didn't think she was up for another game of chase. When she poked her head into the kitchen, her stomach growled and she decided to take advantage of the food she saw within.
She slipped the refrigerator door open soundlessly and fished through the contents looking for food, what she found on the other hand was not what she was expecting. The butt of a gun brushed her hand as she reached for a half-eaten sandwich, and she took them both. The gun had no clip but after checking the freezer she found it. Obsidian could not even begin to imagine what kind of a man kept a gun in the fridge, nor did she want to. All she wanted to do was beat a hasty retreat and lick her wounds for a while. The next room she poked her head into had some kid she didn't know and a dog sleeping peacefully on a bed. The shutting door made a tiny click as the latch caught.
Obsidian looked around the living area and counted her options, barring secret passageways and hidden doors, the stairs were her last hope. She knew that there was no way she was going to hobble up the steps quietly, so she sat down and inched her way up, one step at a time. When she had made it to the top, she was relived to find that someone had left the door slightly ajar. She slipped out quietly. The hall was empty and the swish of her socks echoed in the darkness. She made her way slowly down the corridor looking for an avenue of escape, but finding none. She was hurting, frustrated, and starting to get tired again as she walked through the never-ending maze that seemed to be a ship of some kind. Finally, giving up or enacting a tactical retreat, she wasn't sure, Obsidian curled up in a corner of what appeared to be a cargo bay and let loose her tears.
**
Jet rounded up the remaining crew and set them to looking. Ed took the living areas as Jet and Spike split the huge amount of cargo space. Together they would all search the 142 meters of decks, rotating sections, and rooms that made up the Bebop. Each set off alone, with the exception of Ed and Ein. Jet took the front cargo bays and Spike, still hung over, took the back areas. After several hours all they had managed to find were her discarded clothes in the bathroom. Spike had had enough.
"Look, we got a dog." He said exasperated, "Why don't we just use it to track her?"
"Ein!" Ed squealed causing Spike to flinch and wish for aspirin, "Now you're a detective woof-woof!"
"Calm down will you?" Spike gritted out, his left eye twitching. He seemed more edgy than Jet had seen him in a while.
Jet looked at Spike suspiciously. "Spike, what do you know? Don't hold out on us here."
Spike looked down then up at Jet with a sigh; for once he wasn't wearing the usual smirk. "Look, I know this kid. She was trained to be invisible, to fight, to kill, and to not be caught. Hell, I taught her some of it. If she's still on the ship, and Jet, that's a pretty big fucking if, she's probably hurt and confused."
"So this is the Obsidian that you hoped it wasn't." Jet grimaced. "Great."
Spike nodded. "Yeah, it's her all right. I haven't seen her in four years, but the kid is definitely the one I was afraid it was. Go ahead and start with out me, I need to grab something before I join you."
"Are you sure?" Jet asked slightly confused.
"Yeah, I'm sure, I'll catch up to you." Spike nodded as he walked into his room.
"All right." Jet nodded. "Ed, I want you to stay and call us if she comes back in here."
Jet went down to the bathroom and picked up the discarded scarf. He knelt down next to Ein and let him get the scent of their prey. Ein seemed to know exactly what was expected of him and before Jet could even say anything, he was off, nose to the ground following the girl's frantic path. Jet followed closely behind as Ein dashed down the winding corridors that made up the back halls of the bebop. Obsidian had gone in the wrong direction if she had wanted to get out, taking a right when she should have taken a left, and Jet thanked whatever deity that was watching out for the girl that she had done so. She was in no condition to be wandering around in the middle of a Martian winter.
Ein dashed into one of the smaller cargo bays, there were piles of boxes everywhere. Even Jet had forgotten what they originally contained, but some of them had labels on them from Jet's old apartment on Ganymede. Most of his belongings from that time brought back painful memories of Alisa and he didn't want to be reminded of that time. The wounds still felt too fresh, and he liked to pretend that he could forget. He picked his way through the boxes following Ein, then came up short when he saw her. She was curled up on the floor, wearing his coat and scarf. Her feet were bundled up in what looked like around four pairs of his socks. She looked so peaceful and innocent. Then he saw the gun.
It was Spike's, the one that he kept in the back of the fridge. Near as Jet could tell, she looked like she had cried herself to sleep holding the Jericho 941 pressed against her cheek. Ein barked insistently as if to say I found her, and she stirred, then rapidly sat up, gun pointed and slightly wavering. Her left eye was an ugly purple color, which provided a startling contrast with her crystal blue eyes. She was definitely awake and aware of her surroundings this time and her eyes narrowed when they, and the gun, focused on Jet.
"I'm not going back." She stated flatly as he raised his hands in a sign of surrender.
"That's good, because I had no intention of sending you back." Jet remained calm and tried to make his voice friendlier. "You were hurt, I brought you here and had the Doc come and patch you up, but you aren't supposed to be on your feet for about a week."
"I suppose you want a reward?" She said cynically, bitterness and fear shining through.
Jet's heart hurt to see this small girl hurt so badly in her few years. "No, I just want you to heal and feel better."
"Why?" She sneered, "So you can turn me over to the cops? They'll just send me back to him and I won't go."
Suddenly her eyes took on a dangerous glint, and she turned the gun on herself. "I'll kill myself now before I let you do that."
Jet took a half step forward, as if to try and stop her. His eyes were wide and desperate, fear open for her to see. His look didn't suggest a fear of monetary loss, but rather genuine concern for her. She paused in her empty threat, looking into his eyes, desperately wanting for a moment to believe him. Jet could see it in her; she needed to trust in someone, something, anything other than the certainty of death and harshness.
"Obsidian stop this now."
Spike's voice rang out clearly through the cargo bay. Neither Jet, nor Sid had heard him come in. Obsidian let the gun dip from its deadly position under her chin and looked about, keeping Jet in her line of sight as she did. Spike sauntered in with his usual swagger.
"I know you weren't raised to behave like this." He said calmly, "I should know, shouldn't I?"
"Spike." She hissed and pointed the gun at him.
"The one and only." He said confidently.
"But you're dead." The gun wavered, as did her voice.
"I've heard that rumor." Spike smiled at her.
Her eyes grew hard and angry. "Betrayer."
She pulled the trigger.
