Requiem for a DreamA Cowboy Bebop trifle by MrsSpookyBackground/assumptions: Their latest bounty head turns into a nightmare for Spike and Jet. This story takes place mostly on Earth near the city that was Reno. Cast of characters: Spike, Jet, Martin Holt, Jacob Armamin Posted date: 14-August-2010 The young man enters the tent as he’s done at least three times before. The familiar old shaman sits, eyes closed. He sits down in front of him near the entrace to the tent and waits. Elderly eyes, sharp as the eagle’s, peer through him into his soul. He stares at him for more than a minute, a minute that feels like an eternity. Eyes close and the old man begins a melodious, wailing chant. Sitting patiently, the young man waits for the chanting to finish so he can hear what he came there to learn. The chanting shows no signs of stopping, so he rises and turns to leave, but is stopped by a young Indian not much older than himself who is blocking his way. The man takes him firmly by the shoulders and turns him around, pushing him back down into the position he recently tried to vacate. Strong hands on his shoulders restrained the young man who resigned himself to an impromptu concert of ancient Earth Native American vocalizing. Not missing a beat with his chanting, the elderly shaman thrusts an aged hand into a bag, withdrawing a fist full of aromatic dust. The scent of sage and flowers fills the tent as the shaman allows some of the dust to fall through his fingers. Suddenly, digits are drawn together and the old man blows, sending a thick cloud of dust into the young man’s face, making him cough then sneeze, his eyes watering. “For protection…” *** Mismatched brown eyes opened suddenly. Peering into the dark of his tiny room, the rumble of the engines and the gentle flowing of air through the vents reassured Spike that he was safe at home on the Bebop. He sniffed the air and thought he could detect the distinct scents of sage and… is that lavender? He shook his head then rolled over to go back to sleep. Jet awoke early and just laid in his bunk, staring at the ceiling. He didn’t have to get up right away, so he took the opportunity to just relax before having to dress for the day. He reached over and clicked on the small music player he had on the shelf beside his bed and spent a few minutes enjoying the rich, golden noodling of the Bird that filled his room. He cranked the volume up a notch or two, hoping it wouldn’t disturb his partner just a few feet down the corridor. A few songs into the set, Jet sat up and turned on the light, blinking in the sudden brightness. Breakfast ready, Jet grabbed the plates full of food and chopsticks in one hand, tea pot and cups in the other and headed out to the living area. He was about to call out to Spike when he found his partner already dressed, lounging on the couch, staring thoughtfully off into space. He looked up as Jet entered the room and smiled a good morning. Spike studied his plate, realizing that it was the same meal he had been eating for three days. The smile faded. “I see you recognise it.” Spike just sighed, digging into his food as Jet sat down beside him. Jet noticed that Spike had little trouble getting it down even if he was tiring of the same dish. Well, that’s what happens when the bounties aren’t caught. “Hey Jet.” Spike shrugged, “No reason.” Jet stared him down, “Come on, talk to me. Why are you asking about sage and lavender? Admit it, that’s an odd thing to ask about.” Jet shook his head. Spike smiled wryly, “Aren’t you glad you asked?” Finished with breakfast, Jet turned on the terminal on the table in front of the couch. “This guy is gonna get us some REAL food,” he said brightly. “Jacob Armamin. He’s wanted on Mars for making and marketing drugs. The Martian authorities placed a six million woolong bounty on this guy. I have a source that tells me he was going to make a sale on Earth, so that’s where we’re going.” Spike studied the image on the screen. The guy’s head looked like it was too big for his body… and hair. His hairline was almost as far back as Jet’s, but was colorless, almost a washed-out blond. His complexion was pale to the point of being pasty. Forty-five year old chemist, it said. Hmm. Jet was still talking, “Word I got said he had a deal to make in Reno, on the western half of what’s left of North America on Earth. We’ll find him there, all we have to do is pick him up and cart his ass back to Mars.” *** “A pleasure doing business with you,” the syndicate lackey told him as he packed up his purchases. Armamin smiled at the suitcase full of cash that was negotiated for his merchandise. He knew how much money they would make from the powerful hallucinogen the syndicate had purchased, its street value would be increased dramatically once it was cut. He left his meeting with a bounce in his step, anticipating his next sale. Stepping aside, he pulled out some bills to use for some fun he had planned in celebration. He stuffed the suitcase full of the remainder of his cash into the hold of his mono carrier which was parked nearby and locked it, then drove his car off to a nearby “ranch” to sample THEIR wares. *** The Vesta dodged the detritus circling the ruined planet and located the patch of desert on the western end of what was called the North American continent and set down. Mono carrier lifted off and headed towards Reno, the bounty hunter smiling at the thought of the bounty head waiting for him there. Let’s hope I don’t find a crowd of cowboys, the only ass I feel like kicking right now is bounty head. After renting a car, he located the mono carrier he was looking for and jimmied open the cover to its engines and removed a few key parts, pocketing them with a grin. Just for the hell of it, he picked the lock to the hold to see what this guy was carrying, finding the suitcase stashed there. A quick look inside made his heart leap. He looked around and quickly closed the hold and relocked it, walking away casually with the suitcase and the millions of woolongs inside. Yep, he made his sale all right. He’s not going anywhere with his carrier out of commission and he will DEFINITELY be wanting THIS back, he smiled. On his way back to his rental car, his eyes started watering and itching, then the sneezing started. Damned allergies. *** Jet guided the Bebop through the mess encircling the Earth and after a single orbit, located the shore where they would put down. Gliding to a stop, Jet anchored his ship to the rocks on shore and headed to the landing bay to meet up with his partner. Spike stood waiting, hands in pockets, cigarette burning as always then followed his partner to the landing bay to head out and grab Armamin. “This guy likes the ladies. Don’t know where he’s making the deal he’s here to make, but it’s certain he’ll visit a nearby “ranch” to see what kind of fun is available.” Jet just made a disgusted sound and climbed into his pod. “Let’s just get this guy and get outta here. I don’t trust this place with all the falling rocks and I DON’T want to be stuck here if the Bebop is damaged.” The Swordfish followed the Hammerhead to the Reno area and found a place to set down near where this ranch is located. It was by now early afternoon local time, and the sun was at its zenith. The pods opened to an aromatic blast furnace like heat that took the bounty hunters’ breath away. Spike removed his jacket, tying its sleeves around his waist and fell into step beside Jet, heading towards the ranch. It wasn’t a very large place, more like a rustic hotel. There were signs of new construction amidst the ruined original structure, the whole place encircled by a ten foot tall chain link fence with barbed wire along the top. Spike wondered if they were trying to keep people out or in. The place was desolate and there weren’t that many people left in Reno to keep the place in business, and Spike had to wonder if it was a front for something. File away for future reference, he thought. There was a guard shack at the entrance with the man sound asleep in the noontime sun, so the bounty hunters just wandered in quietly, pleased that they were able to enter so easily. Only a few cars were parked outside the gate, so they couldn’t be very busy inside. It was not a busy time of day. The bounty hunters entered the main parlor to find only two somewhat attractive semi-clad women lounging on the sofas that were set out for the fillies to meet their new clients. The girls examined the two gentlemen who just entered with interest. An elaborately dressed woman emerged from the back room and offered welcome, and asked if they were in need of assistance, fully expecting an enthusiastic response. These two men look like they need drinks, and companionship, she thought, mentally rubbing her hands at the thought of three clients in the same hour. Disappointment registered on her face when the newcomers informed her that they were going to hold off sampling the wares, they wanted to look around first, check the place out. Putting on her brightest smile, she waved her hand for them to help themselves, they just couldn’t go upstairs unaccompanied. The bounty hunters casually wandered the downstairs, looking for alternate exits and any potential hiding places while also keeping their eyes on the stairs. An hour had passed and they were drawing increasingly suspicious stares from the staff, so they exited through the front door for a cigarette. A cloud of dust that stopped at the gate told them another car had pulled up and parked. The knocking engine after the motor stopped was immediately followed by the sound of a car door opening and closing. Through the distortion of the waves of heat rising from the dust, a lone figure approached them sneezing, bringing them both to attention. Spike’s cybernetic eye was able to see the approaching figure through the waves, and when he recognized him, he sighed, “You are not going to BELIEVE who’s here.” Spike and Jet exchanged glances, neither of them believing him. The door behind them opened and a man emerged into the heat looking totally relaxed and invigorated. He passed by the three men standing outside with their cigarettes and proceeded to walk towards the gate. They all noted the head that was too large for the body and hairline and started walking behind him. Jet and Holt were arguing about who was there first to collect their prize stallion. Spike smiled at the obfuscation of his two companions. Just keep him busy Jet, I’ll grab Armamin. They had almost reached the gate when Armamin grew suspicious of the ‘stallion' talk behind him. There’s no stallions here, just fillies. He glanced over his shoulder at the three men behind him and bolted. Spike took off after him with Holt and Jet in pursuit, Jet grabbing at Holt’s shirt to slow him down. Spike didn’t see Armamin reaching into his pocket as he caught up with him at the fence. Armamin whirled, ampoule in hand, pointed it at Spike’s face and squeezed. The clear mist caught Spike square in the eyes and nose, setting his face on fire. Coughing and screaming while clutching his eyes, he went down. Taking advantage of the hesitation on the part of the older guys the kid was with, Armamin darted through the gate into his car and sped off before Holt could reach him. Like it? Hate it? If you have any feedback, we can talk about it on my blog.
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© 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012 - stories by MrsSpooky are based on Cowboy Bebop - Spike Spiegel, Jet Black, the ship Bebop, images and cultural universe are owned by Sunrise Studios, Inc. God bless you, Hajime Yatate!! |