Editing Feeling Things Out

<span style="color:#800000"> '''''Val continues to make the rounds....'''''</span>

<br> <br> <br>

She loved apples.  Always had.  Always would.  Rachel McAllister cut off another piece for herself and then a smaller slice for Mortimer.  The young rat took it into his paws, sitting back on his haunches to nibble it.  His ebony button eyes twinkled into hers as she smiled at him and strayed a finger over his back.  Turning the apple, she cut another slice to keep her friend occupied and then leaned back into her chair to finish the rest.<br><br>

'Lilah was straining, but not as badly as before; the tremble and shakes not so strong.  The waves of motion telegraphed through the soles of her feet, her fingers and through the seat of her pants, the gentle rumble of the old lady burning her way through space.  It was just her and Delilah now.  A red poppy of death had bloomed on Freddie's forehead and now she was alone with a ship full of strangers.<br><br>

She turned the apple in her long fingers, looking it over.  New Arkansas Crisp Black, a late season apple that tended toward being a little hard and a little tart.  Each planet had its favored fruit.  Freddie had teased her that she flew from apple to apple more than from port to port.  She drew a long breath and let it go through pursed lips.<br><br>

It wasn't as if she hadn't seen death.  Space wasn't safe, no matter how comfortable man had got in in it and neither was the ground.  She had seen men hurt loading the giant freighters, crushed under boxes and between machines.  She had helped salvage shipwrecks and seen the corpses, seen men blown out airlocks, seen enviro suits fail.  She'd seen the remains of the Downs, knew people who had died there.  Hell, she had held a man's hand as they tried to pry the shipping crates off him, held his wife as she cried at his funeral.<br><br>

But it hadn't been Freddie's time.  Movement caught her eye as Mortimer scampered up her leg to beg for more and she gave him the core to finish. She didn't know where poor Mr Chang was at all but bless the man, he had had the sense and kindness to leave her alone.  She didn't know where he planned to sleep, but she needed a few days to get right with it all, her inner calm shaken.  All gone, each and every one of her boys.  The chair creaked as she rose fluidly out of it and went to her quarters.  The smiling faces of her family looked her from frames and cubes as she went to the bathroom to rinse her hands.<br><br>  

----<br>

He was not particularly looking forward to this conversation. He wasn't even sure this was the right time to have it. Valentine Quick was unsettled, a feeling that he didn't like very much in the best of times and these certainly were far from that. His instincts felt off at a time when about all he had to rely on was instinct. Making matters worse, the stakes were higher than any situation he had ever had to deal with. <br><br>

Ms. McAllister was almost certainly grieving over the loss of her crew-mate, that Freddy fellow. He had seemed like a nice enough man, if not particularly competent. And he wished that he could just leave her be, to mourn in private. But the situation was tangled up six ways from Tuesday and Val knew that she was going to be the key to getting out of this alive and intact. She knew this ship and clearly was attached to it. And she and this ship were his responsibility now, like it or not.<br><br>

He stood out underneath the hatch leading to the bridge. It was the one part of the ship that he hadn't really seen much of, but he thought that her quarters were up there with the bridge. Or maybe she was just in the pilot's seat. Taking a deep breath, he made an effort to knock/bang on the hatch to see if she would be willing to talk.<br><br>

----<br>

Rachel turned the water off and retrieved a lacy towel as she regarded her family.  "Aw baby girl," she muttered as she dried her hands.  She kissed her fingers and touched them to the most current image of her daughter and grandchildren.  "I miss you all."  They made a beautiful family and by gun, her only child had managed to marry a doctor and a handsome one at that.  Her son-in-law, cheeky devil that he was, seemed to wink at her out of the picture and she placed a kissed finger on his forehead with a fond smirk and tried to ignore the deep well of pain in her core that seemed to seep into her limbs almost to her fingertips.<br><br>
 
The distance to them seemed forever now.  It normally didn't bother her. Rachel bit her lip to fight the wetness trying to gather at the corner of her eyes.  Surely she wasn't that damn old and sentimental.  Maybe because Freddie was so fresh. . .<br><br>
 
A knocking down below caught her attention and she swore softly, walking out of her quarters and gliding her hand against the wall.  'Lilah growled and rumbled, but flew on steady, that subtle motion forward still there.  She spared a glance to the instrument panel and Mortimer before hollering through the hatch.<br><br>
 
"What?!"  Anatole would just have to wait.  She'd make the trip worth his trouble in a day or so.  Self-serving though it was, the job offer he had guided her to had been tasty and she planned to repay his kindness with many of her own. But for now, she just wasn't ready for anyone or anything but ghosts and old memories.<br><br>

''This didn't bode well''. "Ms. McAllister? Do you have a few minutes to talk?" Val wouldn't have been surprised if she decided to try and have this conversation through the solid hatch door. <br><br>

''If it had been anyone but Laz's kid. . .''  Rachel groaned silently and undid the lock, letting the hatchway come down.  "Whaccha need, honey?"<br><br>

"Just a few questions and wanting to make sure things were straight between us. We didn't really have a chance to talk much in all the chaos." Val looked up the hatchway, trying to make sure he looked as sincere as possible. She had every reason to be angry with him and very few reasons to listen to him. He didn't want to give her any more reasons on the negative side of the scale.<br><br>

She felt her face soften and was mildly surprised that it had been that tight.  "C'mon up Val," she stated, backing away from the entrance.  "I got tea up here and it's a hell of a lot quieter.  We won't haveta yell."<br><br>

Val nodded and walked up the hatchway into the bridge area. It was cozy and welcoming, which he found to be both surprising and completely expected at the exact same time. He found himself looking for the right place to sit and decided just to be direct. "Do you mind if I sit?"<br><br>

"Can I stop ya?" she retorted with a smile.<br><br>

"Yes, you could." But he sat down anyway in the re-upholstered chair opposite the one with the rat in it. The whole rat thing was very strange to Val, but honestly also inconsequential in the scheme of things. If she wanted to keep a rat as a pet (?), then why should he be concerned? But it still made things a little odd. But he settled in and waited for her to sit down as well.<br><br>

"Nope.  You're the captain of this ship now.  I can recommend, but I won't balk you."  There was a beat.  "Unless you're wrong."  Rachel watched Val eye the rat, the corners of her mouth uplifted gently.  Once he was down, she walked over to the control panel and leaned back against the dead section, settling her rear mostly on it.  It was a comfortable place for her to lean and observe the occupant of the chair.  That it made her slightly tower over them was a motivation only Pipes had had the temerity to accuse her of.<br><br> 

She crossed long longs and arms and waited for him to continue.<br><br>

''Well, that answers that question''. "I was going to ask if you were going to have any problems taking orders from me. And I'll be straight with you. I won't give many. You know what you're doing when it comes to piloting this ship and there's no reason for me to get in the way with that. My style is to gather information, take recommendations and then make a decision. When that happens, I don't want to have to fight. I *expect* not to have to fight about it. Make sense?"<br><br>

''Damn right I know how to pilot this ship.  And anything else I've ever put my hand to, baby boy.  He was only a few years younger than her girl'', she realized.  ''So earnest.  So young''. <br><br>

"I don't fight," came her calm answer.  Her eyes were on his; serene and gray green like a storm cast ocean.  Her lips twitched with her private amusement. <br><br>

He had a quick mental chuckle. She almost certainly meant that she got her own way when she wanted it. Maybe so. People always expected to get their own way. But he could work around that. The house always wins in the end. And right now, he had to think of himself as the house. "Good enough," he said calmly. "So those weapons in the cargo hold that nobody is going to touch, what do you think we ought to do with them?" Responses had varied so far and he was curious what Ms. McAllister's idea would be.<br><br>

"Considering that they were attached to easily replaced stuff, I'da let them go when the fools tried to take them before," she answered, her eyes steeling a bit as the memory of Freddie passed and was pushed aside. "But considering that they're on board now, I reckon we'd better deliver them to Anson's World." <br><br>

She shifted to look at the Black, making a face to the darkness.  "Those men will pass over that two fool women were just protecting their equipment on the truck and got lucky.  And that the fools they sent to retrieve their goods scared us into liftoff by shooting at us and killing. . .killing a good man." <br><br> 
 
"But they won't let us get away with not dropping off the girls and the crates where they were expecting them to go.  You fight hard to hold onto them, you've shown your hand that you know what's in 'em.  You look away and let those boxes fade away off the ship once we've landed, then you've let them know that you don't wanna fight."  She turned and looked at him hard.  "So what hand are you showing them?"<br><br>

"I do whatever will keep the people on this ship safe. That's my one job right now. I hope it will be as simple as offloading the cargo and letting the smugglers do whatever they plan to do with those guns. I don't think it'll be that easy though." He kept his eyes trained on her, not looking away. "And that's the next to last thing I wanted to say, Ms. McAllister. I'm sorry." He knew the words were never enough. Over the past few years, Val had to say them many times to many people for a wide variety of reasons – some serious, some not so much. But the act of being willing to say them was almost as important as actually saying them. And he really was sorry for how this had all turned out. His fault or not.<br><br>

"Ain't your fault.  Freddie was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. Nothin' that can be done now.  The port boys will see to him proper; they knew him and his daddy.  I'll check when I get back."<br><br>

Rachel inhaled slowly, looking him over, seeing his father in his face and wondering what of his mother he had inherited.  Lazarus had had so much more potential than what he had accomplished. She quirked a sad, bemused smile at him and then added, "Some people just bring trouble in their wake.  Let's hope it follows them off."<br><br>

"Buck stops here. I may not have been directly responsible for what happened, but that doesn't matter. My ship now, so when something goes wrong, that's mine to take hold of." His face stayed calm and unperturbed as he said it. Other people might have said it was unfair and maybe it was. But there wasn't much point in trying to tally fair vs unfair. <br><br>

"And I don't think it was necessarily all the doctor and the inventor," he followed on. ''Inventor? Was there a better word to describe her?'' "Your nobleman friend has his own share of trouble following him. That's not even including what demons might be following our makeshift engineer." Val was making an educated guess that people generally only stowed away on ships when they were running from something. Val was just hoping that whatever was chasing Poco gave up easily.<br><br>

"Anatole ain't worth killing over, honey.  They woulda shot him on the way from the restaurant otherwise.  And Poco, well, the sequence of events don't match in my head for them to have been chasing him onto the ship."  She shrugged.  "You got big shoulders, Val and I admire that.  But you got enough problems of your own.  Don't go borrowing trouble. Especially female trouble."<br><br>

That one produced an actual chuckle from Val. He liked women, but...if only she knew him, she’d find it funny too. "You don't have to worry about that. Female trouble is the last thing on my mind." <br><br>
 
"One more question for you, if you're willing."<br><br>

"Sure."  She glanced at Mortimer, asleep on her chair, and then to back to the boy.  No, man, she mentally corrected herself. "Ask on, Captain."<br><br>

"Why me?" He quickly held his hand up to forestall any misinterpretation. "I don't mean that in a woe is me whining complaint. I mean, why did my father give this ship to me? I'm sure he had other children. Or better yet, why not give it to you? You clearly love this ship and must have been close to him to stick around when everyone left. Why me?" <br><br>

Val didn't really expect her to have all the answers. But she might have some insight that he didn't have access to. <br><br>

A thousand answers went through her mind.  ''I didn't want it/ You're his son/It's all he had to give you . . . .''   But the simplest was the best and the truth.<br><br> 

"Hell if I know darlin'. Laz was a strange man."<br><br>

Val shook his head. He should've known that his father wasn't going to give him anything in the way of answers. Not letting his face show anything, he simply said, "Thank you, Rachel. Is it okay to call you Rachel?"<br><br>

She finally laughed.  "Please," she answered, cocking her head, and then raised a finger.  "Hold that thought."  She disappeared into her quarters and returned with two steaming mugs and a small container.  "I promised tea.  But I don't have any sugar.  Just honey."<br><br>

"With honey is generally how I prefer it." Quiet time in his apartment with a cup of tea and something to read made up most of his free days and the occasional free night. He spooned some honey into his mug and took a sip. Not quite as good as his tea back home, but he'd get back to that soon enough. This was just a temporary delay.<br><br>

"Thank you, Rachel," Val said calmly. "Goes a long way towards bringing some normalcy back."<br><br>

Rachel gently stirred her tea pensively, swirling the honey with thoughtful strokes.  "No honey," she finally said at length. "Normalcy walked away from this 'Verse years ago."<br><br>


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