Episode Seven

{{Written by Emily}}

Part 1: Phinnyus Smyth

It was getting on to evening on the between-systems spaceport where the Feisty Dragon and the Singing Nun had stopped to re-supply and walk around a bit. Violet had barely finished browsing the sixth stall on the marketplace level when she was seized from behind, a hand clapped over her mouth, and before she even considered screaming she was being hauled down a corridor between ship ports. She sighed into the hand covering her mouth. Why does this always happen to me? She wondered. Her arms were pinned, so there was no reaching the lady's pistol stowed in her boot. Her eyes frantically scanned for her shopping companion, Geneva – the other girl was in a similar hold by another man – a big man, wearing trousers and a dirty shirt that displayed prominently his steroid-pumped arms. As she watched, Geneva twisted beneath his grasp – and her leg came free with just enough room to swing it around and nail her captor right where the steroids do more harm than good. The man howled and dropped her, and she ran for it, disappearing almost instantly back into the crowded market. Violet yelled a muffled cheer. She knew Geneva would bring back Arturius, and he would never let these men get away with this!

Two of the men made to run after her, but the one holding Violet called them back. “She's not th' one the ransom listed, screw balls, now git back here and lets get back teh the ship, quickly like. The Anubians don't like teh wait” Alright, so they were out for her ransom – bounty hunters, then, serving her family's enemies. How did they find them on this middle-of-nowhere spaceport? It was practically a truck-stop for space-goers! She tried to get her bearings, learn more about the people who had her. There were four – no five of them, one was behind her own captor. They all looked ogre-shaped and (she wrinkled her delicate nose in disgust), had a distinct unwashed smell. She hoped Arturius – oh, and of course, Victoriana and Stella and the rest – got here soon.

She was surprised and upset when they started walking up the gangplank of the nearest ship – what, weren't they farther away? They had to leave enough time for Arturius to rescue her! - and even more surprised to hear a voice she didn't recognize at all call out, “Excuse me, gentlemen! A moment of your time, if you please!”

A man was striding toward the gangplank across the open port space. He stood just over six foot, but looked taller in a top hat and tailcoat the color of ink. A monocle over one of his hazel eyes gave further class to a neatly trimmed, slightly silvering black goatee. A slim black cane grasped in his gloved fist looked more dangerous than it should have. The handful of men and women flanking him stood just as straight and proud as their captain (and, Violet was pleased to note, just as well-dressed in vests and corseted day wear, with well-matched weapons in tasteful holsters), but they exchanged glances of apparent confusion as their captain stepped toward the bounty hunters and their captive. Then they visibly changed stances, readying for a fight, as the bounty hunters turned and glared at the intruders.

“I am Phinnyus Smyth, captain of the Serendipity.” He stopped in front of the man holding Violet, the one who had given the orders before. “You will, of course, unhand the lady. Without further ado.” Phinnyus stated coolly. His eyes locked on the scarred face of the lead bounty hunter, ignoring the others.

Violet was passed unceremoniously into the grip of steroid man. The lead bounty hunter sized up the newcomer, and laughed. “Eh? An' 'oo d'ya think you are, pretty boy, givin' out orders. This gel ain't belongin' teh the likes of you.” The bounty hunter grinned, glancing back appreciatively at Violet and running a tongue over his lips. His men all cackled. Violet turned a tinge green under her usual ivory. “Tho she could be, for the right price, if ya know whot I mean. She is a looker, tha' one.”

“I'm not here to haggle over price. I'm here to return the lady to her ship.” Phinnyus replied, his disgust apparent in his harsh tone. “Do not, please, keep me waiting. You will release her, one way or another. I suggest you do so of your own volition, now.”

The bounty hunter spat on the ground between them. He knew a challenge when he heard one, and he didn't like it. Flexing his muscles – it had been weeks since he'd had a good brawl! - he stepped up and swung a fist at the pretty bastard's head. To his confusion, his blow was caught, not by the captain, but by one of his crew members, a woman full in corset and hiked-up skirts, who had appeared silently beside him. His other arm was quickly pinned by one of Phinnyus's men in vest and bowler hat on the other side. The bounty hunter's men stepped forward, prepared to fight with their leader, but two of Phinnyus's crew pulled laser pistols on them, and they stopped, watching what would happen next.

Instead of the blows the bounty hunter expected, the two crew simply held him, as Phinnyus carefully handed his cane and monocle to another man by his side. Then he removed his tailcoat, revealing that all he wore underneath was a sleeveless white muscle shirt, and stepped forward. Violet giggled at the sight – a gentleman in a muscle shirt and top hat, readying himself to fight hand-to-hand with a bounty hunter! - then stopped as Mr. Steroids shook her in warning. The bounty hunter found he was suddenly released, the two crew spreading out to warn off his gang from interfering.

The bounty hunter threw the first punch, and Phinnyus dodged before countering with a sweeping kick, tripping up his opponent but not felling him. Phinnyus went straight in for a jab to the jaw, and the bounty hunter fall backward, out of the way. Regaining his footing, the bounty hunter ran at Phinnyus with a growl, and when Phinnyus threw a punch the bounty hunter ducked and barreled into the captain, and they both fell into the dirt road, scuffling and wrestling. The onlookers couldn't quite tell what had happened when the bounty hunter suddenly let our a yell of pain and rolled away. Phinnyus was on top of him again in an instant, throwing punches over and over again until his opponent was unconscious. His top hat, somehow, was still in place.

Standing up straight, he beckoned to Violet with one finger. The men holding her reluctantly let her go, seeing that they had lost according to the rules of their back-alley kind, and also noting with full comprehension the laser pistols and other armed crew members on Phinnyus's side. Violet ran over to join the well-dressed crew.

“You let her go, now, or you'll answer to me!” came a yell from the entry to the port as – a little late – Arturius came bounding into sight, followed closely by the rest of the crew of the Feisty Dragon and Stella.

"Arturius!" Violet cried anyway, and threw herself into his embrace.

Victoriana stepped forward, surveying the scene - the beaten and unconscious would-be kidnapper being dragged onto his ship by his cronies, the foreign crew now putting their weapons away (though still within easy reach), and the gentleman captain who was replacing his tailcoat and monocle as he surreptitiously slipped a pair of brass knuckles into a hidden pocket. Her eyes narrowed. Perhaps he wasn't as gentlemanly as he dressed.

"Violet, what happened?" she asked curtly, her eyes not leaving the man in the tailcoat.

"Oh, Captain! They grabbed me out of nowhere, they said they would ransom me, I think they were working for the Anubians who attacked my family on Isis, and Geneva got away, but we were about to get on the ship, and then - " she paused breathlessly and glanced at Phinnyus, "- this captain and his crew stopped them and rescued me. And then you got here," she added, as an afterthought, and hugged Arturius tighter.

"Well then. To whom do we owe our thanks?" Victoriana asked cautiously.

"Phinnyus Smyth, captain of he Serendipity." Phinnyus answered with a bow, "at your service. And, if I am correct in thinking that you are Victoriana Regency, then I do mean that quite literally."

Stella, as always at Victoriana's side, was looking him up and down. "I like the sounds of that. What kind of an offer do you mean, laddy-buck?" She asked with a wink.

Victoriana shot her a look that told her, in their non-verbal language, Hey, cut it out, we don't know he's on our side, or if we want him to be.

Her answering look said, What, he's hot?!

Phinnyus answered the spoken question. "I have been looking for you, Captain. I want to join your fleet. My crew, sadly, cannot join me in this, but I have a ship, and I can offer my service in the pursuit of your cause."

Arturius spoke up. "How did you find us, and what do you know of our cause?"

Phinnyus lifted one eyebrow, making his eye boggle under the monocle, and answered, "Word of the Feisty Dragon and the Singing Nun has traveled since the rebellion failed. The Anubians are all on the
lookout for you. And I have been on the lookout for someone to join against the Anubians since . . ." He glanced back at his crew. "Well, I have no kind feelings for them, let's put it that way. I would be
happy to tell you all about it back on your ship. But! Enough of this for now. I believe these despicable men want to leave, and they can't while we are still on the landing pad. Shall we?" He bowed again, indicating the exit with his outstretched arm.

The bounty hunter's ship was indeed powering up, and the group quickly vacated back to the Feisty Dragon. Just outside, Phinnyus bid farewell to his crew with hugs and handshakes, each of them seeming to truly regret that they were separating from their captain. Victoriana paid close attention - a man's crew gives the best indication of his (or her) character. When the last woman came forward to exchange a hug and a kiss, Victoriana noticed for the first time that she had a little girl, no more than 6 years old, by the hand. The girl was as well-dressed as the rest of them in little pink skirts and crisp blouse with a waist cincher, and had curly brown hair cut shoulder-length. To Victoriana's surprise, when the woman crew member left, she put the little girl's hand into Phinnyus's, and with a kiss on the cheek for her she left with tears glimmering in her eyes. Phinnyus lead the child back towards the Feisty Dragon.

Victoriana was not amused. "What is this, exactly? Your daughter is also joining our very-dangerous-and-no-place-for-children mission?" she asked dryly.

"Certainly not. She's not my daughter, she's my fiance . . . and please let me explain before you do anything rash." The last comment was directed at Victoriana, Stella, Cornelius, and Arturius, who were pulling guns from their holsters, but most especially at Kots, who already had a gun - a big one - pressed against Phinnyus's temple. Phinnyus raised his hands slowly in the air, and Stella whisked the little girl away from him with a dirty glare that quite clearly said, "I don't think you're hot anymore, you #$%&@ perve."

"That," Arturius said between clenched teeth, his blast pistol not wavering, "is illegal on all human worlds. You'd better explain quickly."

"Alright, calm down! She may look little, but she's actually older than me. Tell them, dear."

The child looked up at Stella, who was now holding her hand, and nodded. "My name is Abigail Grace Vanderbilt, and I'm 48 years old," she stated in her tiny voice. Then she put her arms around Stella's legs and said, "Pet me?" Stella absently patted her head, utterly bewildered.

Kots looked at the little girl like she was crazy. And you know that's not good. "Hey, what's that supposed to mean?" he said to the narrator, before returning his mind to the problem at hand.

"Let's all just put the guns away and go inside, and I'll tell you everything. Agreed?" Phinnyus pleaded. When no one seemed to want to move from pointing their guns at his head he said, rather crossly, "This is not setting a good example for her of how adults settle disputes."

And everyone went inside.


Part 2: Abigail Grace Vanderbilt

"Abigail and I were engaged two years ago. She was a geneticist in a scientific complex on Anubus. As I'm sure you know," Phinnyus, still in his black tailcoat and top hat, cast a meaningful glance at the
crew of the Feisty Dragon crammed around the small dining table in the main cabin, "everything and everyone who is exceptional on Anubis is somehow pulled into the military. Abigail was no exception. She could never disclose the projects she and her team were working on then, but after the . . . incident occurred," heads turned to stare at the six-year-old girl Abigail, who was playing with her hair and humming to herself in her seat next to Stella, "she told me all sorts of things they did at the facility, experimental procedures, mental enhancement, induced mutations to make fighters stronger, faster.” He glanced at Cornelius, who's arm was glowing, and flinched in apology before going on. “Her own team was working on Project Fountain, the purpose of which was to find a way to stop the human body from aging."

Phinnyus looked around the table at each person in turn. The atmosphere around the usually-friendly table was electric. Stella and Victoriana kept up a nearly constant stream of non-verbal communication, debating who this man was, whether they thought he was telling the truth, and what they were going to do with him, with Stella still stroking the little girl's hair now and then. Abigail herself was dozing, her head resting on Stella's (very comfortable) bosom. Cornelius sat perfectly still, arms folded, deep in contemplation of Phinnyus's story. Arturius still looked livid, his hand unconsciously returning to his gun now and then, so Violet would pull it back and hold it tightly, despite her tight-lipped worry. Geneva looked rather uncomfortable, not having been privy to such information before this, and Kots was smiling at the space above and to the left of Phinnyus's head, his version of paying rapt attention. Maria was, as usual, in the kitchen, but she was listening so intently that she had nearly over-mixed the quiche.

Phinnyus continued. "They were very good at what they did, and they managed not only to create a technology that would halt aging, but also one that would reverse it. Their superiors were thrilled. All
their animal testing was successful. The next step was to test it on prisoners, as the Anubians do with new medical technology." Phinnyus looked down at his hands, which were shaking. “But Abigail . . . she told me she never liked that. And besides, she said, she had other reasons . . . she volunteered. For the procedure.”

He took a deep breath, composed himself, and went on. “At first her superiors wouldn't allow it. Her mind, her skills, were too valuable to risk. But she convinced them.” He paused. “She thought she was too old for me, just because I'm only twenty-nine. And she wanted to be able to have children. She did it for me, but I never wanted her to change at all.”

Stella put her hand on Phinnyus's arm in sympathy. “What went wrong, then? How did she end up, well, six?”

“Oh, nothing went wrong. At least not for the Anubians.” Phinnyus's hands clenched into fists on the table. “They didn't tell her, but they never intended to make her child-bearing age again, as she thought. Like they said, she was too valuable. If she started a family, she would have to leave the Project, at least for a little while, and she might just quit. No, they couldn't have that. And besides, it would be nearly useless to their aims to turn an adult into a younger adult.”

“Their plan was to de-age her into a child all along. Then they could raise her, mold her all over again, into the perfect Anubian loyalist. A rather extreme form of brain-washing, if you will, but one that, if successful, could apply very well to particular enemies once caught.” He looked directly at Victoriana, his gaze intense. “Anyway, when she didn't come home, I went looking for her. I knew enough of what was going on that I eventually found her, she convinced me that she really is Abigail, and I took her out of that medical prison with fists swinging and guns blazing. They didn't know if she would maintain all her adult knowledge, her memories, her skills. It turns out she does, but her way of communicating, of retrieving all the information in her brain . . . well, it's like talking to a six-year-old. I rescued her, and I love her, but to be honest, I don't know what to do with her. I know next to nothing about children.” He sat back in his chair. “And I've been looking for you ever since. I want to join the rebellion. And I want to put Abigail back to normal.”

Stella and Victoriana exchanged one final glance. Victoriana: Absolutely not. We have no room for children in a rebellion. Stella: I don't care, I've made up my mind. And anyways, he's hot.

Stella then said, out loud, “Well, I believe you and I would say welcome to the fleet, Mr. Smyth, if you can handle it. And don't worry about little Abigail; I'll keep an eye on her.”

“What!?” Victoriana stood up, her chair banging into the close wall behind her. “Stella, you've never had kids! You don't know the first thing about children! What do you mean you'll keep an eye on her?”

“Well, I had a cat once. How different can it be?” Stella replied, sticking her chin out stubbornly. “Besides, I don't know what you're so upset about, she'll be on the Nun, not the Dragon. You won't even notice her!”

“With as often as you are here and not on your own ship, I'm not so sure about that!” the captain shot back. “And she's a girl, not a pet!”

“Why not? She'll be my pet.” Stella scooped the little girl – who was sleeping now, oblivious to the adult racket around her – and held her protectively. "Violet gets a pet Geneva, why can't I have a pet Abigail?"

"Hey, I'm a Shopping Companion, not a pet!" Geneva jumped up from the table indignantly.

"Same thing! I need a pet on that big ship, anyways, and no one will be allergic to this one. So there.” And she stamped off towards the airlock, yelling into her communicator as she went, “Hey you @#$%* drool-minded excuse for ship fodder, everyone had better be back on board with the Nun powered up in ten minutes, or by $#@%* you will all be #%$@* flayed alive! And no dessert, either”

From her arms, Abigail murmured in her sleep, “$@#%*ing right.”

“Awww! She's adorable!” Stella cooed, and left, headed back to the Singing Nun.

As the rest of the crew dispersed to get ready for takeoff, Victoriana eyed Phinnyus cautiously. “Well,” he began, “What's the order, prithee? May your humble servant, Phinnyus Smyth, join the illustrious fleet, and offer my Serendipity to be companion to the infamous Feisty Dragon and the Singing Nun?”

Victoriana smiled despite herself – she was a sucker for complements to her ship. When she spoke, though, she was deadly serious. “I saw the brass knuckles you used to ream that bounty hunter back there. I know everyone has their secrets,” she grinned, “but you are most certainly not an aristocrat, like you try to dress, like I assume Abigail is . . . was.”

He gave her a knowing smile and offered his hand. She spat in her own and shook, sealing a new alliance between friends. This would be the start of a beautiful rebellion.