Yesterday Was Not My Best Day Ever

Guess Ceasar was right 'bout it not bein' entirely safe for me to be commutin' back and forth 'tween Blackburne and Hale's Moon. Though, to be fair, I wasn't commutin' so much as I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time yesterday. I'd flown my starfury, Merkabah, over to Hale's Moon to see Aeon and work on wedding plans, and the place was deserted. Reckoned I'd stick around and see if anyone showed, and was doin' just that when the 'lliance troops attacked.

I didn't have time to get on the Cortex, but I shot two quick messages to Amy and Ash so they could get the word out. Don't reckon I got a clear count of how many attacked the town. I know I shot a couple up real good 'fore I took hits and went down. Two of 'em came over to check if I was alive, kicked me, and then patched me up. Checked me for identification, too, which, thank the good Lord, I didn't have on me. Then, they cuffed me and started tuggin' me off t'ward the desert, which was when Ash showed up shootin' and yellin' for me to run. I couldn'ta or you can bet yer happy ass I woulda. One of the troops kept draggin' me to the desert, where their dropship was, while the other covered us.

I got shoved in the dropship and left on the floor at gunpoint as we took off, headed for God only knows where. Ended up in some kinda hangar... Didn't get such a great look at it from the outside mainly cuz I was hurtin' so bad I couldn't move. My spleen'll never be the same. Anyway, it wasn't a long flight, really. 'Fore I knew it, that one that patched me up, the private, was draggin' me by my hair out into the hangar, where he started tryin' to interrogate me. I wouldn't even give 'em my name, which's 'bout as far as we got. He backhanded me every time I tried gettin' cute. Then he broke my wrist. I still wouldn't talk. So he pulled my own gun on me and chambered a round. Figured I was dead. Even said a prayer. But the officer stopped him. Dunno why. Guess they needed me to talk.

The officer told him to throw me in the brig for a few days, so I got dragged by my hair again. The officer took my cuffs off, which was real stupid of him, and the private ripped one of my bandages off and stuck his finger in the bullet hole, twistin'. Hurt almost as bad as him breakin' my wrist. They shoved me in the cell and locked the door. The thought of tryin' to hurt 'em and make a break for it occurred to me, but after that, what? I can pilot Merkabah, Chrysalis, and Serendipity, but it's cuz I actually studied the manuals and practiced with 'em. Ain't so certain me tryin' to fly some 'lliance ship'd work out so great for me. And 'sides that, Ash knew they took me. I figured she'd try to find Aeon or Nack, and someone'd come rescue me.

That crazy girl... she somehow managed to round up a few folks - Amy, x0x0 and Sunray - and flew her firefly up to wherever it was I was bein' held. They stormed in shootin'. Dunno exactly what happened, but I could hear shoutin' and shootin', but I reckon they got Sunray, cuz I heard 'em comin' with her, sayin' they was gonna throw her in the brig. I was ready when they got there. They opened the door, shoved her in and started to close it, but I busted out, slammin' the private 'cross the face with my elbow. I reckon I musta jolted his brain outta socket, cuz he couldn't quite figure out whether to shoot me or punch me. I hit him 'til he collapsed, and then kicked the ever-lovin' shit outta him. Unsportsmanlike, I know, but I was good and pissed. The officer came runnin' in, and I decked him with my good hand. He tried to fight back, but I think 'tween the band of pissed women in hangar with guns and me beltin' him round the head repeatedly, he was kinda frazzled, cuz he went down as easy as the private. Wonder if they're dead. I didn't exactly think to check, as I was in kinda a hurry.

I grabbed Sunray, whose arm was jacked all to hell, and we huffed it out to the hangar (after I grabbed Regina and Renata, my M4 Redemptions, 'course), where Ash, Amy and x0x0 was waitin' with Ash's boat. Alarms were goin' off, lights flashin'. I figured we wasn't gettin' away that easy, so 'fore I strapped myself in for a bumpy ride, I grabbed a roll of duct tape so I could work on makin' my right hand serviceable with a gun - I basically taped my wrist so I couldn't move it, then taped the gun to my hand so all I had to do was aim and pull the trigger.

They sent a bomber after us. Soon as we got in atmo that bastard was firin' at us. By that time, the call'd gone out, and there was a bunch more browncoats runnin' around. It was chaos, everyone all over the place, tryin' to figure out what was goin' on. Eventually, everyone figured out we was under attack and started shootin' at the bomber. Guess we damaged him pretty bad, cuz he took off back to...wherever he came from.

And then, it was over. Everything was a flurry of tendin' to wounds and cussin' at the gorram 'lliance. Everybody was fine. Y'know, alive. I reckon I'mna be hurtin' for a good long while til I heal up. And looks like the weddin's gonna be off for a bit, til I get this gorram cast off my arm.

Interestin' development last night, though. Seems x0x0 went lookin' for trouble over in Washtown. She boarded an 'lliance boat parked there and started snoopin'. Not only did she get discovered and have to kill the men on board (not cryin' here), but she found somethin'... a photograph of me with the Lieutenant with a message talkin' 'bout needin' to acquire my genetic material for testin'. x0x0 thinks it's 'bout me seein' colors now and my eyes changin'. Begs the question, though - Did I get taken prisoner randomly cuz they wanted some kinda information, or did I get taken prisoner cuz of that picture? Seems like it was random bad luck, considerin' how I was treated, and how easy I got away, and I'm fair certain once the news't they had me in custody and escaped, if I didn't kill the two purplebellies, they'll prol'ly wish I had.

In any case, I reckon I'mna need to watch my step from here on out. Maybe I should ask Jayne if it's safe for me to be out in the wastes yet, cuz bein' scarce mightn't be such a rotten idea.