Bebop Blues

Chapter 2: Don't Bother None

Smoke.

Thick like paste, sticking to the walls and billowing in clouds murkier than was necessary.

Everywhere, smoke.

She sighed.

Granted, her sigh was more out of habit than annoyance. One year of this and she was entirely comfortable in this surrounding. The dim bar was packed with thugs, bandits, dealers, prostitutes and every dark shade of humanity in between, but the suited man in the center of the bar was who she had her eye on.

Other men had taken an eye to her, however, and she gripped her Glock for comfort.

A year ago, she would have been dead meat walking into a seedy place like this, but Faye Valentine was no longer prey.

She'd become quite the predator in the lunkhead's absence.

She had to, really; Jet was older than he let on, and without Ed and the pooch, his job of intel had gotten much more difficult. It was left up to her to be the muscle.

She downed the rest of her whiskey.

That was plenty for the night; she had a job to do after all.

She sauntered over to the suited man, her boots clacking and sticking slightly to the grungy wooden floor. She wore more these days; she knew better now than to provoke anything in her line of work. Tight leather jeans and a maroon V-Neck tank was all she needed to garner attention, though, and as heads turned, her grip on her gun tightened.

She'd never been so careful.

But for once, she felt she had something to lose, and when you have something to lose, your mortality tends to come to your forefront, and common sense becomes your best friend.

She had a place to belong now.

She and Jet had developed a new sense of camaraderie, a true partnership. He watched over her like a father, and she kept him on his toes like the teenage daughter she used to be. She couldn't let him down; he had done for too much for her this past year and the some odd months before it.

When lunkhead was around.

She took a seat at the table, crossing her legs languidly, the leather pulling taut.

The dapper man didn't move, but a man behind her licked his lips loudly.

She ignored the brute and turned her attention to suit.

"What's your game?"

The suited man looked up from his drink, his fingers crossed underneath his chin. His eyes seemed worn. "Excuse me, miss?"

He had a thick accent she couldn't place, and his black hair shined in the dimmest of light.

"You seem like the "wealth and means" type. So what's your game?" She then motioned to the rest of the bar, her arm sweeping across to draw attention to her bosom. "There are sinners and saints all over this place; so tell me. Which one are you?"

The man was Paul Donahue, wanted for illegal gambling, drug trafficking, and, what was more and what really earned him his 10 million Woolong bounty, human trafficking: girls of all ages for prostitution and brothels. Like in the old days, he often got them addicted to the drug of choice and forced them into work. The Red-Eyed Don Juan, they called him.

He smirked.

"Miss, I don't delve in such... Carnal, indulgences." He tipped his hat. "I'm a man of propriety."

"As true as that is-"

But she never finished her sentence. The whistling and catcalls of men drowned her out as some other female entered the bar.

Paul looked up. "Ah, my dear huntress, I apologize for cutting this short, but I have business to attend to." With that, he rose from his chair, took his coat, and walked to the empty barstool next to the raven that just walked in.

Curious, Faye eyed her closely. Paul saw right through her, so there was no sense in pushing the hunt further, but the arrival of this other female was not in her intel from Jet. From their sources, Paul used this bar as his regular spot to obtain new clients, not products or partners.

She decided to slip in unnoticed at the dark end of the bar; a burly man, half-conscious made a suitable wall to keep her out of Paul's vision, and with the new earpiece she managed to purchase a few bounties ago, she could hear the conversation clear as day.

"Miss Dragon, when will you take me up on my offer," Paul asked, his voice with urgency and hopeful brightness.

The woman scoffed. "I don't deal with fiends like you, Donahue; you best remember that." Faye could hear her take a swig of her drink.

"But Miss, we could both benefit from this exchange, surely a daughter of the S-"

But he never finished his sentence.

The bar went silent. A few regular patrons continued on as though nothing was out of the ordinary; apparently this exchange was common.

From a cranny between the burly man's arm and side, Faye could see a gun pressed to Paul's temple, the woman the obvious gunner.

"You will address me properly, snake." She used her free hand to lift her drink, vodka, from what Faye could tell, and sipped slowly.

Beads of sweat trickled down Paul's forehead. "Miss Dragon..."

"What's your price tonight, Donahue? Big Shots has you listed at 10 Million as of this morning. Says you killed Jane Black. A cop. That right?"

The bar went quieter still, if such a thing were even possible.

Apparently, this was Miss Dragon's territory.

"You see-"

The gun cocked. Faye could determine it to be a Glock. A woman after her own heart, if she even had one left.

Paul gulped.

"Dead or alive, isn't that right? They never take kindly to cop killers."

The bartender was the only one who seemed unfazed. Faye stared in wide-eyed wonder. This woman was something else.

Paul stuttered something inaudible, and the woman pushed the gun further into his temple. "M-M-"

"Not so hot now, are we, Donahue?"

Faye shivered. Miss Dragon had a chilling voice to match her name.

"Miss-"

"No. You hear me. Now that I know who you are, what you do, and who you kill, you can damn well bet I won't take kindly to your filthy scum presence in my vicinity."

She pulled the trigger.

"Bang."

Patrons scrambled to leave the scene as Paul fell over the barstool to his right.

Faye didn't budge, though the burly man harrumphed and left with the crowd.

The bartender continued wiping his glasses.

Silence again.

As Miss Dragon picked up the trembling body of Paul Donahue, piss-stained and crying, Faye realized the gun had been empty.

"I'll be damned," she said aloud.

Miss Dragon looked up at her. "You speak too loudly with your body language, Miss Huntress," she told Faye, bowing her head at her. She cuffed the trembling hands of Paul and yanked him to a standing position.

The woman was much shorter than Faye imagined. Her attitude and confidence was befitting tall, leggy Amazons, but the petite, curvy woman before her seemed much more the firecracker: big boom in a little package. She threw her long hair over her shoulder, her brown eyes softening with each passing second.

As she began to take her leave, tossing a large bill to the bartender, she turned to Faye a final time. "Until we meet again, Space Cowgirl," and with a wink, she turned on her heel and left.

"Faye! I thought this was simple!" Jet yelled as she explained the situation over the Red Tail's vidcom.

"I told you, Jet! He sniffed me out the second I approached him! And that woman had some sort of background with him!"

She was exasperated. She didn't understand his urgency. They had a decent amount saved up from the last two jobs, and bounties were getting harder and harder to come by, but he was chump change compared to some of their bigger hauls.

It was strange that they were all flocking to Mars recently, though. She supposed they were all vying for "New Syndicate" status; the whole thing left an awful taste in her mouth.

It explained why Big Shots was back, at least, although catching bounties was easier when they weren't being advertised to the world.

"Faye, how can a bounty hunter have any connection to Paul Donahue aside from hunting him?"

"He kept calling her Miss Dragon, asked if she had thought about his offer. She didn't want to hear it, called him a cop-killer, and took him down with some crazy mind tactic of scaring him shitless."

Jet went silent, and Faye could see his demeanor stiffen.

She wasn't stupid.

"You knew the cop, didn't you?"

He released a defeated chuckle. "Never did want my kid sister following in my footsteps. Not like that."

Ah. So that's what Jet's big issue was: his sister's killer wasn't dealt justice through his hands.

Or his crews'.

Deciding a change of subject to be the best tactic, Faye set course for the Bebop orbiting Mars. "I'll be back soon. Out."

She left Mars, her wallet empty, and Jet's heart heavy.

She knew he'd never let her see him mourn.

A month passed before they took to Mars again. A few renegade hackers here and there scattered from Jupiter and Venus helped recoup some minor debts they accumulated at the casino after the Donahue debacle (though Faye had long quit her gambling addiction and only played cards on blue moon occasions these days). With fresh groceries and a hunger for beef, the two set forth for Mars again, their eyes set on Roger Kane, serial murderer and drug peddler. His price was less than expected at 8 Million Woolong; but with Jet's eternal frugality and with Poker Alice laid to rest, that 8 Million could go a long way.

Jet decided to accompany this time. Kane had a sense of sickness for women, and improved abilities and sense or not, Faye was just far too small a target. The woman was still feather light.

And everything was smooth until they actually found Kane.

"You're a tricky one, ain't ya'?" he said to Faye, pinning her to the alley wall. Jet was behind him, frozen to the spot by unexpected and unaccounted for neurotoxin.

Why did jobs on Mars always end this way?

As Jet winced trying to pull himself forward, Kane let out a crazed laugh. "You're stuck, mate. No way you're getting out of this one, so you'll have to sit back and watch as I have fun with your little girl-"

Jet froze further, as he watched in slow motion a bullet flying over his shoulder and planting itself in Kane's.

"Dammit!" he yelled, gripping his shoulder as blood gushed forth from his newly acquired wound.

Faye hit the ground and swung her leg, toppling Kane to the concrete.

"Who the fuck did this?" he yelled to the end of the alley.

Faye ran to Jet, a syringe in hand or occasions such as this, and as she plunged it into his thigh, he cursed a bit himself.

A figure flew down the alley at intense speed, halting in front of Kane who was now standing.

He lunged at the figure, and with a "heh" she lunged back.

Miss Dragon had held true to her parting words.

As the two fought, Faye and Jet watched in amazement. She moved like water.

Like Spike.

Using her opponent's weight and force against him, she pulled his punch forward, leading him headlong into the wall behind her.

"Run!" she yelled to the two.

They bolted.

And as they reached the street, an explosion sounded from behind them.

Milliseconds masquerading as hours passed before someone stepped forth from the dust and rubble, and Faye's gun was at the ready.

"Cool it, Huntress. Bounty head is dead. No reward to begot here," the woman cooed.

Her voice was warm, and it made Jet and Faye falter a bit. It was much too soft to belong to the firecracker with the liquid moves. Maybe she was more like honey.

"Who are you?" Faye finally asked, eyes wide in awe and mouth slightly agape.

Jet shifted against her, still struggling to regain full muscle control. "Not to be rude, but what my partner means is-"

Miss Dragon walked forward towards Faye while Jet spoke, her final words and parting actions cutting Jet off completely. "Just another cowgirl," and before Faye could react, she winked, leaned up to kiss her cheek, and walked away.

As she threw a hand in the air over her head, waving a good-bye, the bounty-hunting duo stared at the retreating figure in disbelief.

Another ghost.

They didn't speak about that day on Mars. There were too many questions, too many bad vibes, and too many weird ones. They spent the next month picking off chump change near Venus, and with the final 2k Woolong catch, Faye managed to finish repaying her debts.

It was a long time coming, and it took her a year and a quarter to do it, but it was done. She felt a sense of accomplishment she had never encountered before: Poker Alice retired and Faye Valentine was debt-free.

Jet was mildly surprised, too; he hadn't realized she had been working towards paying her debts off like that.

He made bell peppers and beef to celebrate.

"But I want a steak!" she whined as they docked on Mars.

They were always returning, it seemed.

"We're still barely in the clear, Faye. You know that. Big bounties are still hard to come by."

It was playful banter, though. Faye was genuinely happy, and Jet found her positivity infectious.

It took a lot to see her this alive.

They were docking on Mars with two purposes: the next big hunt and a lead on a man they assumed dead.

A lead worth 50 Million Woolong.

"You don't think he's really alive, do you, Jet?"

It was hard to ignore the pained hopefulness in her voice.

She took it hardest when he was presumed dead.

"He would have come back for the Swordfish by now."

She supposed that was a good point.

Plus, he and Jet were genuine friends.

She doubted he would have stayed under the radar with a bounty on his head; he was always itching for a fight.

They docked at Tharsis.

It was raining.

Ominous.

As Faye and Jet parted ways in town to talk up some leads, they determined the bounty they were truly hunting for was currently on the move after a bad run-in with a bounty hunter the night before; it disappointed them.

They decided another night here wouldn't hurt to unwind. Jet wanted to tinker, and Faye wanted to drink.

They hadn't been to Tharsis since the day he died.

As Faye entered the bar, the Golden Triangle, she took note of a 3k thug in the back. She decided to mull over whether or not to capture him over a few drinks.

After drink 7, she decided she was probably too sloshed to do so.

Unfortunately, the thug took note of the amount of alcohol she consumed.

As she got up to leave before trouble started, a hush came over the patrons, and the bartender nodded at the woman walking in.

A ghost returning, Miss Dragon sat next to Faye. "Vodka straight," she called to the bartender, but he was already pouring her drink.

The sight of her sobered Faye quickly.

The sight of Faye brought the thug about.

"Oi, purple, what's your name?"

Faye groaned in disgust at the brute's lack of manners and opened her mouth to respond, but Miss Dragon silenced her with an arm around her waist.

"She's with me, chump, so get lost."

He glared. "And who are you?"

Faye, bemused by the situation, the alcohol to blame, played her part. "I'm with her, and she's with me; you don't listen well, do you?"

His eyes narrowed his eyes into slits. "I asked you both."

"And we both answered," came Miss Dragon's reply.

"Not straight, you didn't."

"How kind of you to notice," Faye quipped.

She heard Miss Dragon chuckle lightly.

"Well-"

And Faye finally realized that Miss Dragon always had a way of silencing people with sheer attitude.

She was growing to like this woman.

"My girlfriend and I are bounty hunters, and they call me Miss Dragon." She smiled, her teeth bright and crisp in the muggy air.

The thug faltered. "Ain't worth your trouble, miss. Just pocket change. No need to cause no problems." He backed up and slowly walked out the door.

The conversations amongst the patrons resumed, and the two women giggled to themselves.

"Well, I gotta' say, I like your style, Miss Dragon," Faye said as they left the bar moments later, both giddy and high-spirited."

"And I like yours, Cosmic Cowgirl."

"You in the business of looking for a crew to join?"

Miss Dragon mulled it over, her eyes to the stars in thought.

"As a matter of fact, I planned on heading out this morning in search of bounties elsewhere, but was sidetracked by a lead. You offering?"

"We could use some extra muscle," Faye mused. "And we play off each other pretty well."

Miss Dragon mused over the idea some more. "I think I'd like that. Much better change of pace than flying solo, and Mars has been running dry lately. You got a ship?"

Faye snorted. "If you can call the clunker a ship. It's an old fishing vessel."

As they rounded the corner to the lake, the Bebop came into view.

"There she is. Of course, it's Jet's, my partner you saw last time. He's captain."

Jet was slowly approaching the two women, his eyes wary and curious.

"Faye, I hope you didn't get into any trouble," he commented dryly.

Looks like tinkering didn't go so well.

"Actually, trouble avoided her," she responded, pointing to Miss Dragon. "I invited her to join the Bebop crew."

He looked mildly upset, but more out of surprise. "Without asking the captain? It's my ship, Faye!"

"Lighten up, old man! We need more muscle around here, she's obviously skilled, and it would be a nice change of pace to have someone else aboard since lunkhead..." she trailed off.

The silence that followed roared in somberness.

Miss Dragon, sensing something heavy between the two, broke the silence. "Well, I can offer something of my own to ease this, if you'd like."

"Oh?" Jet asked, eager for a change in conversation.

As if on cue, a ship ten times the size of the Bebop descended towards the lake. A dome surrounded by wings and a tail, the dome clear and hollow and full of green, the ship looked like a flying oasis.

Jet and Faye blinked at the leviathan ship hovering over their own.

"That would be the Mezzo, a biodome of my own design. It's completely self-sufficient and runs on radiation. The sun and stars are all it needs. The docking bay should hold the Bebop nicely."

Jet's mouth fell agape.

Faye looked pleased. "See, Jet? Muscle."

Jet turned back to face them and crossed his arms. "Name's Jet Black. Welcome to Team Bebop, though it seems Team Mezzo might be fairer."

"I like Bebop."

Jet looked pleased this time.

"And I'm Faye Valentine." She stuck her hand out, her other on her hip.

Miss Dragon grinned. "Ah, Poker Alice in the flesh. I'm honored." She shook Faye's hand, and the three headed down to the dock.

"Well, Miss Dragon, is there anything else you go by?" Faye asked mischievously.

She smirked in response as they boarded to Bebop to load it into the Mezzo's docking bay.

"I go by many names, but Mai is the correct one."

And as they exited the Bebop to venture into the Mezzo's hangar, she spoke once more.

"Mai Spiegel."