Personal Log 148: 9 January, 3303
25 Jun 2017Jemine Caesar
[Author's Note: This log entry is the second of three collections of roleplay posts made on Inara during January 2017. It tells the story from Jemine's pov, therefore not all the dialogue and actions in the original posts have been repeated here.I must express my thanks for the permissions to use the following characters: Marcus Blake, Phisto, Isaiah Evanson, Cait Shaughnessy, Apollonia Purduto, Marra Morgan, Idris Gawr, Nicholas Locke, Stryker Aune, and Doctor Glaboski.]
9 January, 3303
I felt a lot better after a few hours sleep and a cold shower. With The Last Thing in the maintenance dock for major repairs, I had little option but to make the best of an enforced stay on Citi Gateway. I certainly wasn't about to leave without my ship.
Remembering the furore in the Ingabar the day before, I switched on the holovision in my apartment and accessed the Galnet news bulletins. There I saw, for the first time, what Marcus, Phisto and the rest had already seen...
Media outlets throughout the galaxy are abuzz with news of an event that many are interpreting as an encounter with non-human life.
According to reports, an independent pilot by the name of Commander DP Sayre was interdicted en route to the Aries Dark Region XU-O b6-3 by a highly unusual ship bearing no resemblance to any known human craft.
As the Commander's ship was plucked from hyperspace, all their systems were completely disabled. The mysterious craft subjected the pilot's vessel to some kind of scan before departing, at which point the hapless Commander's ship returned to life.
Commentators reviewing the pilot's recording of the event have noted strong similarities between the mysterious craft and the shipwrecks found in the Pleiades Sector AB-W B2-4 and the HIP 17862 system.
Is the ship a Thargoid vessel? This is the question many are asking. We will continue to bring you up-to-the-minute updates on this story.
I sat and watched the bulletin with growing alarm. If it was true that the Thargoids had returned, then it could only mean trouble for all of humanity. My mind was taken back to when I was a little girl, to the scary stories papa told me about how the Thargoids used to attack ships for no apparent reason. Such encounters, he told me, were usually devastatingly fast and brutally efficient. I remembered how I used to pray to Gaia, asking her to kill all the Thargoids so that people everywhere could live their lives in peace and happiness.
"Peace and happiness?" I said to myself as I got dressed. "Fat chance of that, isn't there?"
I'd learned a few lessons about the galaxy since those far-off days of my innocent youth. First and foremost of those lessons was that "people everywhere" don't necessarily want peace, but will derive their happiness by causing misery to others. Oh, I'd always known there were bad people about; I'd met quite a few in my nomadic life on LHS 3447-A5, but I'd always had the notion that things were better elsewhere.
How wrong I was.
"If this is the beginning of a Thargoid invasion," I said to my reflection while I applied some makeup, "then perhaps our eternally squabbling Powerplayer leaders might finally have reason to put their differences to one side, and work together for a change."
My reflection looked back at me and smiled. "I wouldn't bet on that, Jemine," she said. I had to agree.
I spent the rest of the day wandering around Citi Gateway. It was a Coriolis starport much like any other in the bubble, with its standard modules of docks, habitation sectors, commercial and industrial districts, security and medical facilities and entertainment areas. Inara was a system "a little off the beaten track", as my papa used to say. Even so, its starports, of which there were quite a few, were popular stopping-off points for pilots of all types.
Citi Gateway's jewel in the crown (albeit a flawed one) was the Inara Galactic Bar, or Ingabar for short. Being located in the Pilot's Market and quite close to the docks, the Ingabar was something of a magnet for weary starship pilots in need of a drink and some conversation.
Though I was feeling better after the over-indulgence of the previous day, I was still nursing a slight hangover. Being unable to take sobriety pills due to my severe allergy to them, I decided to head back to the Ingabar and follow a piece of advice my papa had once given me. I strolled up to the bar counter and ordered a glass of Old Sol.
"A hair of the dog that bit me," I explained to a woman already standing at the counter. She was quite petite, with blonde hair and wearing a short night-blue dress with a cascade of shimmering silver trim down the left side. It wasn't until she turned to face me that I recognised her with a start.
"Hello, Apollonia!" I said. "Fancy meeting you here again."
Apollonia's beautiful blue eyes widened as she recognised me in turn. She smiled and was about to speak, but instead looked cautiously over my shoulder and around the room, as if expecting to see someone else. I was momentarily puzzled, until the reason for Apollonia's furtive glances dawned on me; the last time we had met, in the previous November, I had been with Kyla Emmerich. To say that Kyla and Apollonia hadn't exactly seen eye to eye was something of an understatement.
Apparently satisfied that I was alone, Apollonia's smile widened. "Bonsoir, cherie! How nice to see you!" She gestured over to a private booth, where a waiter was depositing a case of Pegasi Moon. "Please, would you care to join us? My most dearest friend is celebrating her thirtieth birthday."
I peered over to the private booth, at which a black balloon with the number 30 printed on it was gently bobbing on a string above two seated figures. One was a very large man in black body armour, incongruously clinging on to the string of the balloon. The other was a woman, wearing a three-quarter length red leather coat over a black tunic, leather trousers and knee-high boots, her hair in dreadlocks.
"Oh!" I said. "Isn't that Marsha?" I turned back to Apollonia. "The last time you and I met, the two of you were looking for, umm, dancers."
I looked once more towards the private booth. Marsha and I had parted company in rather acrimonious fashion on that previous occasion, which had partly been my fault. I'd been drinking then, too, and had overreacted in the face of Marsha's apparent rudeness towards Apollonia. Later, after Apollonia had explained Marsha's actions, I had realised I'd been too hasty. Perhaps this was an opportunity to make some sort of amends to Marsha. "Yes," I said. "I'd love to join you."
Apollonia beckoned me to follow her back to the booth. Marsha looked up as we approached, gesturing to the vacant seats and pushing a bottle and a couple of glasses forward.
"Croeso!" she said, with a broad smile. "Welcome! Please, join us!"
Taking my seat, I glanced at the massive figure of the man by Marsha's side. He wore a formidable-looking suit of black body armour, and a mirror-visored helmet obscured his face. If ever there was a man with whom not to pick a fight, it was this one, despite the fact he was presently holding a large black balloon on a piece of string.
I reached out to pick up my glass of Pegasi Moon and raised it to my lips. I'd never tasted the drink before, but it smelled quite nice. Sort of nutty and fruity with a hint of burning wood. But, just as I was about to take a sip, I spotted another familiar figure striding towards the booth. The last time I had seen him was in November, the same day as my first encounter with Marsha. Back then he'd been wearing a brown fur singlet, shorts and fuzzy slippers. I had assumed he was a singing stripper, but Apollonia had later explained that he was actually Marsha's crazy ex, out to embarrass Marsha in front of her clients. He was now dressed rather more conventionally; a cut stringer tank-top emblazoned with the words "Iron Asylum", ripped blue jeans and black workboots. Now that I saw him close up, I couldn't help but notice that he had a quite ugly-looking cybernetic arm. I hoped he wasn't about to spoil Marsha's birthday party.
"Happy Birthday," he said to Marsha, and politely nodded to Apollonia and me.
"Thank you, Mister Aune!" replied Marsha, filling up a glass and pushing it towards him. It appeared there were no hard feelings between the two of them. I flashed him a quick smile, and took a sip of the Pegasi Moon, feeling it tingle on my tongue.
"I spent some time in Pegasi recently," I said. "It was quite an enlightening experience." I lifted my glass towards Marsha. "It's nice to meet you again, Marsha. Happy birthday."
"Thank you," replied Marsha, after taking another mouthful of the burning liquor. "And please, tell me what delightful adventures you've had in the enchanted playground that is Pegasi!"
I took another sip of my drink. "This is quite nice," I said, my voice becoming husky and my eyes watering slightly. Setting down my glass, I glanced at the tattoos which adorned Marsha's face.
"I was doing some freelancing," I explained. "You know; a little of this, a little of that. I'm a trader, you see. Most of the work was running deliveries and data around a system called HIP 106072. Are you familiar with it?"
"Yes, yes I am," answered Marsha with a nod, staring at me intensely. "And who were you working for out there?" she asked in soft, low tones. "You can tell me, I probably know them."
"I daresay you will," I agreed. "You've most likely come across quite a lot of factions out there, given your line of work in the, er, entertainment industry. It was a security company, called Black Omega. Quite formidable, too. One of their leaders is a woman not to be trifled with. Quite horrible, by all accounts. Fortunately I never met her, and I don't suppose I ever will."
At that moment we were joined by yet another newcomer, a man of about my age with brown hair and a full beard. His clothes were almost uniformly black. Curtly tipping his head to Balloon-Man, the newcomer placed a small gift-wrapped package on the table in front of Marsha.
"That is for you," he said as he took a seat.
"Mister Locke! A gift? For me?" Batting her eyelashes at Locke, Marsha removed the wrapping paper to reveal a small jewellery gift box. She opened the lid, smiling at what she saw inside. Closing the lid again she looked up at Locke. "Thank you," she said. "It's beautiful."
Locke gave her a slight grin. "Glad you like it. It has more of a practical application than anything else I could have gotten you, I think." Then, extending a hand to me he said, "I don't think we've met before. I'm Locke."
"Hello, Mr Locke," I replied, accepting the handshake. "No, I'm quite certain we've not met. My name's Jemine. Tell me, do you work in the entertainment industry too?"
"No, nothing so interesting as that! I tend to find myself, ah, working more in security than entertainment."
I nodded, taking another sip of the dark spicy Pegasi Moon. I looked across at Marsha to give her a friendly smile, only to find that she was already staring at me, her face now wearing an expression that was decidedly disconcerting. I was about to ask her if anything was wrong, when Apollonia stood and raised her glass.
"I'm sure I speak for everyone in wishing our dear friend a happy birthday and good health!" she announced. "To Marra Morgan!"
Marsha, still staring intently at me, ignored the toast completely. "Jemine?" she whispered. "As in 'Jem'?"
Suddenly sitting bolt upright in realisation at what Apollonia had just said, I stared back at the dreadlock-haired woman.
"Wait a minute..." I gasped. "What? I thought your name was Marsha. You're a talent scout... "
I looked at the faces of Apollonia, Locke and Aune, then slowly returned my attention to Marsha. "Is this true? Are you Marra Morgan...?"
"Jem Caesar?" she asked again in a low, menacing hiss, pointedly ignoring my own question.
"Yes," I replied. "I'm Jemine Caesar. I worked for Black Omega a few weeks ago. My handler was a man called Aston. Marty Aston. He said you'd been asking about me, just before I left Pegasi." I looked fearfully at the people seated around the table.
"I do recall a Marty Aston," said Locke to Marra Morgan. "Pretty sure he's dead now, right?"
Aune pulled out a data slate and tapped away at it for a moment. "Who's this Aston fella?" he asked me. He set the slate down and tapped at the table top rhythmically with the sharp talons of his cybernetic hand.
"Marty Aston," I replied, "was my handler in Pegasi. He called me his minion, and used me to get himself noticed by the people who run Black Omega. That is..." I added, looking straight at Marra Morgan, "to get himself noticed by you, I suppose. Aston said it was because of me that his future with Black Omega was assured. Shortly after I left Pegasi I learned that he'd been killed in a pirate attack on the taxi hauler he was riding in."
Marra continued to stare at me with a steely gaze. "Yeah," she said. "Aston took permanent retirement. As did Edison Lee. Isn't that right, Jemine?"
Resolutely holding Marra's gaze, I racked my brains to think who in the name of Gaia this Edison Lee could possibly be. And then it dawned on me. Recalling the very last conversation I'd had with Aston in his filthy apartment on Clair Dock, I put two and two together. There could only be one candidate. I hoped I wasn't wrong...
"The leader of the resistance?" I said, in as confident a voice as I could muster. I gave Marra a thin smile. "That's right, Miss Morgan. Mr Lee decided that Pegasi politics wasn't for him. After a little gentle persuasion, of course."
The corners of Marra's mouth lifted ever so slightly.
"Then you have my appreciation," she said, "but maybe not my husband's! That contract was his. But you obviously had your finger on the pulse of Pegasi's politics and took the initiative when the opportunity presented itself." Her lips curled into a full, dark smile. "I like that."
Apollonia quickly stood up, smoothing out her dress. "I'll order another case of Pegasi Moon," she said, leaving the booth and walking across to the counter. There was a tense, awkward silence, which was then broken by the arrival of a tall man in a smart white-and-silver changsan suit. He appeared middle-aged, with black hair cut short and neat. In his right hand was a cane with a golden knob handle. He stood at the table for a moment before sliding in next to Mr Aune, and then pulled out a small wrapped package and passed it to Marra.
"Happy birthday," he said with a dazzling smile, his voice cultured and smooth. "A token for my new employer."
Marra peered curiously across the table at the white-suited newcomer, and catiously took the package from his outstretched hand.
"Uh, thanks fella," she said, in a mildly slurred voice. Handing the box to Mr Aune, she said, "Stryker, open it for me - make sure it doesn't explode or anything!"
Aune – or Stryker, as Marra had called him – took the package and unwrapped it, revealing a black velvet jewellery case. After checking it thoroughly he handed it to Marra with an approving nod. Marra opened the black velvet box and took out a blue diamond pendant, set in a silver starburst on a delicate silver chain.
"Ohh," she cooed softly, her eyes glittering.
At that moment Apollonia returned to the booth, accompanied by a waiter bearing two crates of Pegasi Moon. She sat down, and cast an enquiring look at the man in the white changsan suit.
"Bonjour, monsieur. Je m’excuse, but I do not believe that we have met."
Marra leaned towards Apollonia. “He’s a slick bastard with a good taste in jewelry, and that’s all I know about him myself.”
White-Suit bowed his head towards Marra. "I was hired to work for Black Omega by a Mr Gary Winkler,” he began. “His attention was drawn to my surgical skills and, as a result, he offered me employment. I am a very good surgeon, Miss Morgan."
"Gary Fucking Winkler!" said Marra with a snort of derision. "Hah! So he's recruiting now? Where is that creep tonight, anyway? I'd have thought he'd be here."
Stryker turned towards Marra and placed his hands on his hips. "I haven't given you my gift yet..."
He began gyrating to the slow rhythm of the music, lifting his tank top to expose his impressive abdominal muscles. He swung around and, peeling off the vest, continued dancing in a teasing fashion for Marra, flexing his biceps and posing suggestively. Apollonia, smiling broadly at the impromptu floorshow, returned to her seat and sidled up to a wide-eyed Marra.
"Aww, yes!" drawled the pirate leader in delight. With one sudden movement, Marra swept the empty bottles and glasses from the table and smacked her hand down onto it. "You bring that booty right up here!"
Stryker stepped up onto the table as he had been commanded. He ran his organic left hand over his stomach before squatting down and tracing Marra's jawline with a thick thumb. Then, standing upright and slapping his hip, he went on with his dance.
Smiling, I helped myself to another bottle of Pegasi Moon from the case on the deck. Though it was clear that I was in no imminent danger, I had to remember that I was presently in the company of a band of pirates and murderers. I was sure that they would have no hesitation in killing me if I put so much as a foot wrong. I could, of course, have simply got up and walked away, but my innate curiosity had already taken hold. This was a chance to see what these people were really like...
I picked up my glass of Moon and drained it, then poured myself another. I looked up at Stryker cavorting about on the table top.
“Time for some fun,” I said to myself.
I climbed unsteadily on top of the table and wrapped my arms around Stryker's waist as best I could. Tottering precariously on my twelve centimetre House Of Lalande heels, I began to sway with the big man, giggling.
"Come on, big boy!" I squealed, happily. "Show me your moves!"
I heard a hearty laugh from Marra. "Now this is a birthday party!" she said, leaning back and putting her boots up on the table, one arm affectionately draped around Apollonia and drinking deeply from her bottle.
Wrapping his cybernetic arm about my waist, Stryker pulled me in close and ran his other hand along my arms and side. Then, breathing lightly, he gave me a soft kiss on the nape of my neck, the palm of his metallic claw pressing into the small of my back with surprising sensitivity.
"Ooh," I said, closing my eyes as we continued the slow dance. "You certainly do have some good moves!" Sighing contentedly, I pressed my body against Stryker's, running one hand over his muscular chest. I knew deep down that this was all probably a huge mistake, but dancing with a pirate was undoubtedly better than being murdered by one.
As Stryker and I rotated in unison on the tabletop, I was aware of several pairs of eyes watching us. Marra and Locke were passing comments to each other, laughing raucously; White-Suit's face wore a slightly contemptuous sneer; Apollonia's expression was altogether happier, her lustrous eyes flashing from Stryker and me to Marra and back again in rapid succession; and Idris... well, I couldn't tell what he was looking at on account of the mirrored visor he wore but, still grasping the balloon, he remained as impassive as ever.
Stryker kissed my neck several times, planting the last one just behind my left ear. I felt his hot breath as he let out a deep sigh. Pulling away a little, I looked up into Stryker's eyes and gave him a broad smile. Then, without thinking, I held out one beckoning hand towards Marra Morgan.
"Hey! Climb up and join us, Marra! The birthday girl should be up dancing, too!"
Marra stared blankly at me for a few moments, and I suddenly began to wonder if I had overstepped the mark. But then, with a shrug, Marra stood and, removing her jacket, climbed up onto the table. Sliding herself in between Stryker and me, Marra raised her arms, ran her fingers through her dreadlocks and began to dance. Her petite figure moved with a cat-like, sensual grace as she pressed her back against Stryker's chest, whilst simultaneously pulling me closer in to her. This drew squeals of pleasure from Apollonia, clearly delighted at the whole performance.
White-Suit, presumably deciding that this was not his type of party, rose to his feet and picked up his cane and slowly left the booth. As he walked towards another table I noticed there was a slight limp in his step. His absence was short, however, as he returned to the booth after only a few minutes. He took his seat in silence, a vaguely disappointed look on his face.
I, meanwhile, was by now thoroughly enjoying myself gyrating with Stryker and Marra atop the table. I wrapped my arms around the pirate queen's shoulders and leaned forward to whisper in her ear.
"You're a good dancer, honey, " I said. "But you really should be dancing with your husband on your birthday. That is...umm, if you have a husband?"
Marra's smile wavered. "Yes," she answered. "I do have a husband. But we're... estranged." Her eyes grew distant, as if she were recalling a painful memory. Then she smiled, focussing her attention back onto me. "He's tall, handsome and can handle himself. A bit stupid, though. You'd like him."
I blinked, aware that Marra had just subtly insulted me, but I thought it best to let it go. By unspoken agreement, Marra and I stepped down off the table and, laughing, dropped back down onto our seats again. Stryker hopped down too, and happily settled himself in the seat beside me, draping a protective arm behind my back.
"Having a nice time?" he asked, whispering in my ear.
"Yes," I replied with a smile. "Surprisingly enough, I'm having a lovely time."
I took another drink, and then smiled and grasped Stryker’s hand. "Come on, big boy. Come and dance. Just you and me this time."
Stryker grinned and stood, lifting me to my feet and leading me over to the main dance floor. He was still shirtless, but didn't seem to care. He wrapped an arm around my waist and took my hand, leading me in a slow dance.
"And how about now?" he asked. “Still having a nice time?”
"Especially now," I replied, adding, "and I can tell that you feel the same way."
Snuggling in close, I smiled as I felt the quickening beat of Stryker's heart. Allowing myself to be led in a slow circle.
“This seems so weird,” I said. “I never thought I’d willingly share drinks with a bunch of pirates, much less join in a party with them. But I’m enjoying myself.”
Stryker chuckled. I peered up at his face. "That's a rather ridiculous thing for me to say," I continued, "considering Marra Morgan represents all that I've ever detested in the galaxy. But I suppose even a pirate queen is entitled to have a bit of fun on her birthday."
Stryker lightly touched a cyberfinger to my chin. "You know, your response to us is normal. Most people detest our very existence, but our existence is warranted. We're not so bad once you get to know us better."
He tilted my chin up and gave me another kiss. I caught the unmistakable look of longing in his eye. Gliding my fingertips across his bare chest, I closed my eyes and languidly arched my back, melting into Stryker's surprisingly tender kiss. Then, when our lips parted, I looked up into his eyes.
"I grew up on an agricultural world," I said. "I won't bore you with the details, but my mama and papa always tried to teach me the difference between right and wrong, good and bad. It all seemed perfectly straightforward, but then, when I became a spacer, I began to realise that the 'verse doesn't work quite like that. The line between good and bad is more blurred than I thought. So blurred, in fact, that now I don't really know who's what anymore. Even myself."
We danced on, swaying happily to a succession of popular songs. Finally I linked one arm in Stryker's, resting my fingers on his bulging bicep.
"Come on," I said, nodding over towards Marra's table. "Let's rejoin the birthday girl, shall we?"
As Stryker escorted me back to the cubbyhole, he said, "You know, my first deployment was on an agricultural station orbiting Sowiio. It was a much nicer place then the rock I grew up on. At least your folks cared enough about you to teach you right from wrong. I use to think that right and wrong was pretty cut and dry as well...and then...." He took a breath. "Well, like you, I started seeing what life was like out here. Everything operates in the grey area. I wish it were more simple..."
The man in the white changsan suit had gone. As we sat down, Stryker asked me what I'd like to drink.
"I've lost track of how many Pegasi Moons I've had," I replied, "but I don't suppose another will do much harm."
Looking over my shoulder, I stared up at the impassive figure of Marra's balloon-holding bodyguard.
"How about you, Mr... Idris, isn't it?" I asked. "Would you like a drink as well?"
Idris shifts his mirrored visor in my direction, regarding me for a few moments in total silence. Then he looked away, apparently disregarding my question.
"I'll take that as a no, shall I?" I said, with a nervous giggle, taking another bottle of Pegasi Moon from the seemingly interminable supply (no doubt all arranged by Apollonia, who was now on her way to the dance floor with a smiling Nicholas Locke).
After another fifteen minutes or so had passed, Marra drank the last of her Pegasi Moon and rose unsteadily to her feet. She donned her jacket and gathered up her various birthday gifts.
"Idris," she called, beckoning the armoured monster. Taking the balloon from him, Marra gave a nod to her guests, mumbling "Nos da". Then, with Idris at her side, the pirate queen swayed out of the Ingabar. Locke and Apollonia drifted off the dance floor to stand at the bar counter. Stryker and I were alone in the booth.
"Looks like the party's over," I said, and finished my own drink.
"Tell me about yourself, Jem,” said Stryker. “What were you like as a kid?"
I looked at Stryker, wondering if his curiosity was genuine. "You want to know about my childhood?" I said. "Well, I was born in 3273, on the fifth planet in the LHS 3447 system. It's an agricultural world. My parents were travelling entertainers, though in reality little more than common beggars. We travelled as part of a troupe, scraping a living as best we could.
"My mama had been a classically trained dancer before she ran off with papa. She would dance for credits at the various farm settlements we visited, while papa would recite Shakespeare or sell bio-med packs to the more injury-prone farmhands. At night, mama would be visited by lonely farmhands looking for a little extra entertainment. At a reasonable price, of course.
"I had no friends as a child, apart from a rag doll named Tessa. Mama made her for my sixth birthday. I had no real education. My mama taught me how to read and write, and papa taught the basics of mathematics and science. But I grew up knowing virtually nothing of the galaxy.
"When I was sixteen, papa picked up a hitchhiker named Caz. He was a few years older than me, but we soon became good friends, and I was in awe of him. One thing led to another, and I had his child. A girl, Bekka. She... she died of an incurable disease a couple of years ago."
A tear rolled down my cheek at the memory. Stryker took my hand in his. "Traveling entertainers," he said. "That explains your dancing. In fact I haven't danced with anyone half as good as you since... Well, it's been a while. I... I'd like to get to know you better."
"Are you inviting me back to your place for a coffee?" I asked, smiling. Stryker grinned.
"I don't have a place on the starport," he said. "I sleep on my ship."
"My own ship is in the repair dock," I said. "She was very heavily damaged in an attack by a bloody pirate, and..." I smiled apologetically up at Stryker, and was relieved to see that he didn't seem at all annoyed by my unguarded comment. "Well," I went on, getting to my feet. "Shall we go?"
Stryker nodded and rose from his seat. Waving a quick farewell towards Apollonia and Locke, I tottered unsteadily towards the exit, my arm linked with Stryker's.