(no subject)

[walk_ins]

Tang's saloon in the town of Cluny on the colony world of Taschen is not much like Milliways, but it's bound to be a familiar sort of place to gunslingers and the crew of Serenity alike. Taschen is a farming world--dirt-farming, by and large--and the clientele of Tang's are mostly thirsty farmers and bone-weary ranchers looking for cheap synthetic alcohol and a quick trick upstairs with old-fashioned unregistered whores. A lot of the faces look the same; some of them possibly too much the same. The original colonial stock were descendants of people who might have at some point called themselves Scotch-Irish, when either of those place existed, with a generous speckling of Chinese and Indian.

They sit mostly clustered at dim tables; the bar is largely ignored. Kerosene lanterns do most of the lighting. A warped mirror is behind the bar; it lets everybody know what they'd look like if they were drowned. The bartender has a lazy eye and a big stick under the bar, next to the shotgun. In one corner there's a piano, the auto-function switched off, where a man pounds out Hey Jude to a largely unresponsive crowd.

In short, it looks like a good place to drink yourself into the grave, pick a fight, or disappear. Or all three; it probably wouldn't be a good idea to dig out back too deep.

Comments

[simon_doctor]

Behind the three comes Simon, casting a look around.

One -- at least one -- of the people here is waiting for him to show up. And expecting him to be in the company of Mal Reynolds of the Firefly transport Serenity.

He's watching for reactions.

[shadowsusannah.livejournal.com]

Susannah rolls into the bar behind him, pushed by Roland, and gathering a few stares. Looks like legless black women with bigass guns don't get any less attention-grabbing in five hundred years.

Sounds like the oldies are still big, too. Huh.

She scans the tavern, taking it all in in one hawk-eyed visual sweep of the room. In the back of her mind she's still worried about Eddie, but the majority of it is devoted, as he would want, to TCB.

Taking Care of Business.

[lastgunslinger]

Malcolm Reynolds isn't the only one wearing a brown coat.

Roland, behind Susannah, is also wearing a coat of a similar shade.

Blue eyes

(con yer vantage, maggots!)

take in everything, and reveal nothing.

A thousand main streets; two thousand honky-tonks -- very few things change, though worlds move on.

[walk_ins]

When the group--the extremely intimidating group--has settled in at a table with their Ng Ka Pe, with a maximum of staring and malevolence from the surrounding locals, the piano (now playing a ragtime version of Careless Love) breaks off, and the player approaches.

He's tall and thin--reedy, really--and has an untidy mop of red hair under a billed cap. His shadowed eyes are Asian and sharp; his teeth have been carelessly tended to over the years, and at least three are silver. He wears a long brown coat, although he's a little young to actually have been a Browncoat. Maybe. They did get 'em young.

"You the fellas looking to sell a little cruiser? Called Grant, I think it was?" He's looking directly at Simon.

[simon_doctor]

"Ah ... yes. Yes, it's for sale."

He's not stammering this time. Much.

[badinlatin]

"And you would be the interested party?" Mal questions, followed by a sip of his Ng Ka Pe calming his nerves that are only visible to himself.

[walk_ins]

Red shakes. "I don' fly myself, but I know a fella who might be in the market. I can take you along to him." He glances at the table. "Your friends can come, too, if you want. We both want things to stay friendly, I think." He smiles.

It's shiny.

[swinging-cod.livejournal.com]

*Jayne can't keep himself from snorting and murmuring something like,*

Looks more likely to gén hóuzi bĭ diūshĭ than buy a gorram ship.

*He already forgot it was a ruse.

Stupid Jayne.*

[simon_doctor]

Simon throws an irritated look at Jayne. It's become familiar, that irritation. It's like an old friend by now.

"That's probably the best idea," he says, glancing at Roland to be sure they're in agreement.

[lastgunslinger]

To the man: "You think rightly." Casually. "Lead on, then, if you would."

Roland hasn't missed the tunes playing on the piano. 'Hey Jude'.

'Careless Love'.

And why would those songs be playing in a tonk five hundred years or so away from Eddie's where and when? Why, if this isn't the Tet Corporation?

[walk_ins]

He leads them out of the bar, down the high street (the only street) to a rusty air strip just outside town, where heavy equipment is flown in from time to time. The span from time to time is very long; this is a poor settlement on a poor world.

There's a long steel hanger at one end, and he takes them there. He leans against the heavy door for a long moment before it begins to slide.

Inside, in the half-gloom, at one end of the hanger is a long and distressed-looking table. Three chairs are behind it, two occuppied; a larger row of empty chairs is in front.

Behind the people at the table is a ship, older and more tired-looking than Serenity.

On the right hand side of the table, an empty chair, which Red takes; to the left, a young Anglo woman with dark hair. In the center is an older dark-skinned man, in clothes that are shabby with age, but were nice once. He wears horn-rimmed glasses and a silver signet ring.

"Doctor Tam. Welcome," he says in a deep, heavy voice. His eyes study the group, moving quickly over Mal, Zoe and Jayne, but lingering on the gunslingers. "Please. Introduce us to your friends."

[simon_doctor]

Simon's gaze has gone to the signet ring, but it's too far away for him to make out the device.

There's no point in avoiding real names. The letter was addressed to Mal Reynolds, which means these people (Tet or no) already know who they are.

He shifts uncomfortably, glances around, and begins the introductions.

"Captain Malcolm Reynolds." A gesture to him, and to the others in turn. "Zoe Warren. Jayne Cobb."

A pause. "Susannah Dean." A slightly longer pause. "Roland Deschain."

[walk_ins]

At the last, Red gapes openly; the dark-haired woman's eyebrows jump about a foot. Only their leader remains calm, his eyeglasses flashing.

"As you say."