roruna (roruna) wrote in roads_diverged, @ 2009-03-18 19:36:00 |
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Entry tags: | discworld, firefly, roruna:vimes/sybil, theme 01: crossover |
"Dragonfly", [Discworld/Firefly], Theme #1: Crossover
Title: Dragonfly
Author: </a></b></a>roruna
Fandom: Discworld, Firefly
Characters: Vimes and the Watch mostly.
Warnings: Obscenely long fic. Just the prologue turned into 14 pages when I wasn't looking.
Theme: #1. Meta - Crossover
Rating: Er... PG-13 so far, may deviate to M in later chapters.
Summary: Sam Vimes, captain of the dragonfly class bulk transport ship, "The Watch" is just trying to get by in the 'Verse after the Unification War. He's got a crew made up of a fellow Browncoat (Carrot Ironfoundersson), two ex-coppers from his old police department in Ankh-Morpork, Dyton. (Nobby Nobbs and Detritus) and an engineer (Havelock Vetinari) who is very good friends with the Companion (Rosie Palm) renting Vimes' shuttle. Life in the 'Verse was complicated enough just making ends meet but when an old flame of Vimes' (Sybil Ramkin) turns up needing passage to Athens, Vimes is going to really miss the simple days when he just had to kiss Badger's arse for a job.
Author's Notes: Here's part two of the prologue so hopefully things will make sense now. I was kinda annoyed when the whole first part of the prologue was in italics. I hadn't met for that. Hope y'all like it.
It was a few weeks later and then Vimes and the lads were the proud owners of their very own piece of shǐ dàn, as Vimes insisted on calling it. Carrot said that it was a Dragonfly class bulk transport ship. It was 264 feet long, 176 feet wide and 61 feet tall with a tonnage of 7,200. Speed class four, fuel capacity of 360 tons* and a cargo capacity of 2,000 tons. It had four single and two double occupancy crew cabins as well as four single and four double occupancy passenger cabins. It also came equipped with an infirmary**, a skiff *** and a 20-ton shuttle. **** “What’s that smell?” Nobby asked when he stepped into their new home for the first time. Vimes shook his head. “Some cats were living in here, I think.” He sniffed again. “And dying in here too.” Carrot very pointedly left the cargo bay doors open. “It just needs a good airing and some tidying up, sir.”
Vimes shrugged. “Fine. Oh and you should probably stop calling me ‘sir’, Carrot. After all this is your ship. You’re the captain. Can’t have a captain calling one of the crew ‘sir’ can we?” Carrot nodded keenly. Vimes was suddenly very nervous. “Exactly, sir. That’s why I think you should be the captain.” Detritus rumbled. “A blind guy on Beylix saw dat one comin’.” Vimes glared at Detritus and then he saw that Nobby was grinning so he glared at him too. “You two get cleaning up this heap, right now.” He growled. Nobby and Detritus saluted and wandered deeper into the ship. Vimes turned suddenly to Carrot. “No!” He said. Carrot’s brow wrinkled. “Why not, sir?” Vimes’ body tensed. “Don’t call me ‘sir’! I am not going to be the captain of this piece of fei-oo. This was your idea, Carrot. I said I didn’t want any part of this.”
Carrot nodded in a way that was perfectly calm and reasonable. Vimes recognized the nod. It was the one that coppers used when talking to people wearing tin foil around their heads. “So why did you contribute the most money to the whip-round, sir?” Vimes blinked. “What? I didn’t… I just gave what I could… What does that have to do with anything?” Carrot pulled out a little notebook. He moved his lips as he read over something and then said, “We all gave what we could and you paid about… 32% of the ship’s purchase price. You could say that you’re the majority shareholder in this organization. Besides I’d feel a bit wrong giving you orders, sir. It’d feel like giving my dad orders.” Vimes narrowed his eyes. He tried to think. There was no way he was going to be captain. He didn’t know how to be a captain… Ok, he’d been an Inspector in Ankh-Morpork but that wasn’t the same.
He looked into Carrot’s honest and slightly callow face. Carrot could be captain if he wanted to. He could make anyone do anything. He should have been in the Independent High Command. He probably would have convinced the
Nobby and Detritus were standing in front of an open pantry where a large raccoon was standing on the top shelf, hissing at them. Vimes stared at the creature. He didn’t know anything about animals other than to stay away from them because they were crawling with disease. “Carrot, see if you can find a crate or a box. One that’s not made out of cardboard. Detritus close that pantry door for now. Nobby, go to one of the vending machines outside and get some… biscuits or something.” Let’s hope that raccoon is dumb enough to take bait. After a few false starts and only some minor scratches, the crew got the raccoon into the crate and let it go free near a fast food restaurant’s dumpster. Carrot grinned at Vimes the whole way back to the ship but didn’t say a word. Vimes eyeballed Carrot and then said, “Shut up.”
“Has anyone thought of a name for it, yet?” Nobby asked eventually. “I heard it’s bad luck for a ship not to have a name.” An atmosphere of thoughtfulness descended. Everyone had been thinking of a name for the ship pretty much since the moment Carrot had suggested they get one. None of the names fit this ship however. Vimes stared at the Dragonfly Class Bulk Transport ship. It would have helped if it looked like something other than a ship. He looked at his crew. They had all been coppers once, in what felt like an eternity ago and they’d always be coppers in their heads and in their hearts. In Vimes’ mind, coppers have always existed. They’d existed before Ankh-Morpork and Dyton and the Red Sun System and the Union of Allied Planets and terraforming. Coppers proceeded over the surface of Earth-That-Was. Only Earth-That-Was was older than coppers. What did they have before police?
Vimes only remembered history in relation to law enforcement and criminology. When he was in the police academy, there had been a history lesson and that’s where he learned that police had existed for about 2,500 years. The Romans had invented them; they’d invented most things that benefited society, as far as Vimes could tell. In those days, they’d been called Vigiles, literally translated to the Watch. “The Watch.” Vimes said mostly to himself. The rest of the crew turned to look at him. “Sir?” Carrot said after a time. “It’s called the Watch.” The crew looked at the ship. “It’s a bit big to be a watch, sir.” Said Nobby. Vimes shook his head. “Not a watch, the Watch.” Carrot smiled. “It’s a good name, sir.”
* About 1200 hours.
** That had been cleaned out by the last occupants.
*** That had been the home of a group of feral cats for the last couple of months.
**** It worked fine much to Vimes’ surprise except that the heater gave off an extremely burnt smell after being on for longer than a minute.
The first few jobs they got were simple enough things. Though it pained Vimes to do it, he charged slightly lower rates than standard until they could develop a reputation in the business. They made just enough to keep the Watch and the watchmen fueled up but Vimes was becoming increasingly worried that if something on the Watch got seriously damaged that would be the end. Carrot solved the problem by advertising that they had a working shuttle to rent. Vimes decided to just let Carrot handle the details of finding a tenant while he worried about finding work and a mechanic before the engine burst into flames.*
“Our new tenant is a what?” Vimes demanded. Nobby’s grin was threatening to cut his head in half. Carrot maintained his doggedly helpful smile. “Her name is Rosemary Palm and she’s a Companion, sir.” Vimes sighed. He had heard right. A Companion. Vimes had never had any experience with Companions what with being below the poverty line since the end of the war and being a Browncoat during the war and before that a brownjob. But as far he could tell they were just obscenely expensive whores with their noses in the air. Vimes had learned, the hard way of course, to avoid women that were as his mother used to say ‘no better than they should be’ and now Carrot had rented out their shuttle to one. “Carrot… she hasn’t… signed anything yet, has she?” Carrot shook his head but looked puzzled at the question. “Not yet, sir. Why?”
“Carrot…” Vimes hesitated. Where to start? “You don’t think it’s… odd that a posh lady like that would want to rent a shuttle from us? Who knows if she’s even a real Companion? No real Companion would want to ride around on a heap like this.” Carrot radiated keenness. He’d anticipated this, Vimes could tell. “She is a Companion, sir. She showed me her license and her name is in their database. She said that she likes ships with some mileage on them. She says they have more substance.” Vimes turned those words over in his mind. Well yes, rust, dust and mildew are substances. He looked at the leasing agreement Carrot had typed up. “Why is the rent a third less than we asked, Carrot? Is she going to be paying the rest with nature’s credit card?” Vimes could almost hear Nobby’s leer.
Carrot’s brow wrinkled in total bewilderment. “Er… no, sir. After discussing it, I thought it only fair considering that she could bring something to the Watch that other potential tenants can’t.” Vimes wondered where the ‘Verse was taking him but didn’t say anything. Carrot continued. “There are a lot of planets that won’t even let us land without some additional licenses or a Guild licensed Companion on board, sir. She makes us look more respectable.” A whore makes us more respectable, Vimes thought sullenly. It was even more infuriating because it was true. “And she knows a lot of people too.” Vimes couldn’t stop himself this time. “I bet she does.” Carrot very tactfully didn’t understand what Vimes meant. “She knows a lot of well to do businessmen, sir. We’ll probably get more jobs thanks to her.”
Vimes couldn’t argue. Carrot was right. Carrot was always right. They needed the extra income and they needed more respectability and they needed more business. There was no downside, Vimes told himself. There was no reason why he should turn this woman down. It wasn’t as if they had any other potential tenants. “I suppose you have a point.” Carrot brightened up. Vimes raised a hand. “But no one’s signing anything until I’ve met her, understand? I’m not going to let someone live on my ship without at least meeting them first, got it?” Carrot nodded and saluted. “Yessir! I’ll schedule a meeting immediately, sir.” Then Carrot rushed off on the swift wings of keenness. Nobby rubbed his hands gleefully. “Sir—” Vimes had felt this coming. “No, Nobby. You can’t be one of her clients.” Nobby pouted. “Why not? You can’t say that I can’t be a client.” Vimes sighed. “Nobby, freelance whores won’t even take your money. What makes you think a Guild member will?”
The meeting was scheduled for the following morning. Rosemary Palm was not what Vimes had been expecting. Miss Palm looked just younger than him. Not that she didn’t look good, she looked great. She looked like the kind of woman that teenage boys fantasize about. That’s normal, Vimes reminded himself. Companions are supposed to be stunning and radiant. They’re supposed to make lesser humans forget their own names and how to breathe. A lovely mist of rage wrapped itself around Vimes’ brain. Yea, that’s right. Companions have a knack for making everyone else feel second rate. They were almost magical. Maybe they didn’t think they were better than everyone else but they certainly made everyone else think so. Vimes busied himself by shuffling some paperwork on his over cluttered desk.
Rosie gave Vimes a dazzling smile. “You needn’t be so anxious, captain. I don’t bite.” No, that probably costs extra. Vimes stiffened a little and then forced himself to relax. “You’ll have to excuse me, Miss Palm. I have a lot on my mind.” Rosie nodded and said sweetly, “Like how there must be some way to avoid renting your shuttle to me without a great financial loss?” Do not glare at her. Vimes had to order himself. Glaring at people that are going to give you money is bad for business. He coughed and contrived to look embarrassed. “Sorry, I’m just not used to dealing with Companions and frankly neither are any of my men. You’ll understand if I’m a bit concerned about what complications that could cause.” Rosie nodded. As far as she was concerned that was a really weak excuse.
“Is it just Companions you dislike or is it all women?” The question actually knocked the wind out of Vimes. It took him a moment to rally himself. “I don’t… that is…” The hell with it, he thought. “I don’t like people that make everyone feel sub-human. Everyone talks about Companions like they’re some higher life form, like they’re better than everyone else. You all walk around and act like you can read everyone’s thoughts and know people’s heads better than they do. Like you’re doing the ‘Verse a favor by existing.” He smiled without any humor. “That’s what I don’t like.” That didn’t get the reaction Vimes had expected. He’d expected that Rosie would stand up and storm out after making some final remark about who’s better than who… or whom. But she just sat there and stayed perfectly calm and poised.
It was much worse than any cutting remark she could have made. She just let him make a complete fool of himself and waited secure in the knowledge that she knew that he knew that she knew. Vimes sat back and slumped in his chair. He shifted uneasily and then in a quiet voice said, “I hope I haven’t wasted too much of your time.” Rosie shook her head. “Oh no, captain. You won’t be rid of me that easily.” She rested her chin on her hand. “You know there is a lot of… call it stigma for now, attached to Companions. Some of citizens of the less civilized planets can’t differentiate us from common whores. Hell, even some individuals of the central planets can’t. People who are comfortable with sex and even enjoy it have always been disliked. It’s a fact of civilization. So I commend you on your singular reasons for dislike.”
Vimes realized that his mouth was open. He closed it. After some thought, he asked very carefully, “You’re congratulating me for not liking Companions for… different reasons than everyone else.” Rosie laughed. “I daresay, I am.” Vimes nodded uncertainly. “So… why are we still talking? Shouldn’t you have stormed out by now?” Rosie crossed her arms. “Captain, this is business. While it helps to like the people one does business with, it is not compulsory. Sure you’ve done business with individuals you dislike or who dislike you in the past?” An image of that little dog’s jībā, Badger, floated to the front of Vimes’ brain. He opened his mouth to say ‘yea but we won’t be working together, we’ll be living together’ and then realized that there were dozens of ships with shuttles to rent and… She was doing them a favor by being here. Bloody Companions.
He took the copy of the unsigned lease agreement from one of the stacks of paper on his desk. “This is business. You want to rent my shuttle.” He said as if reminding himself of this fact. “I must tell you, Miss Palm that Carrot reduced the rent without my permission or even my knowledge.” He watched her warily. She nodded. “Is that so?” Vimes paused. “I’m going to have to insist on the original price. I did do my research. That’s the standard rate for a shuttle of that size.” Rosie turned this fact over in her mind. “And I must insist on a third off. That shuttle is not at optimum efficiency and will need some further investment before it’s up to code.” Rosie could feel the temperature around Vimes drop. Most captains of small autonomous vessels are extremely proud and defensive about their ships and everything in them. In a low growl, he said. “If you don’t like it, there are plenty out there that do.”
Rosie nodded on concession. “That may be, captain. But how many of them are… doing the ‘Verse a favor by existing? How many of them have close acquaintances with wealthy individuals? How many of them can provide respectability by proxy?” Vimes watched Rosie a while then he turned his attention to the lease agreement again. He drummed his fingers on his desk and then said, “A quarter off and not a credit more, understand?” Rosie nodded and after Vimes made the correction on the lease, she signed it. “Why captain, you’re acting as if you’re doing me a favor by renting me your shuttle.” She grinned as she wrote out a check for the first month’s rent and the security deposit.
Rosie got settled in soon enough. And with extra cash in hand, Vimes finally felt comfortable enough to put out an ad for a mechanic. “If you’re looking for a mechanic, I know a good one.” Rosie said when she learned they were looking. She and the rest of the crew were sitting in the galley eating dinner. Dinner consisted of protein in a lovely shade of kind of greenish-purple. Vimes shrugged as he swallowed a mouthful of the stuff that in Vimes’ opinion tasted too much like that clay he used to play with in kindergarten. “Send him a wave if you like and tell him to apply.” For once there was actually more than one person to choose from. Perhaps if Vimes was very lucky, he’d actually get to make a decision on his gorram ship.
* Vimes still couldn’t wrap his head around the workings of a ship’s engine and used the phrase ‘burst into flames’ as an umbrella term to mean any sort of malfunction that required more attention then restarting the ship after letting it cool down for five minutes.
“So Bester…” Vimes eyed the young man with some apprehension. He certainly looked like a mechanic, possibly one that had spent most of his time fixing sand buggeys while waiting for the next big wave. “You’re last job was on a Firefly, name of Serenity.” Bester nodded. “Yessir.” Vimes looked at the lad’s application. “You weren’t working there long, care to explain why?” It dawned briefly on Vimes that he probably wasn’t conducting this interview as kindly as he could have. He was a copper in his soul and coppers always ask questions to get at the crime. He wasn’t interviewing Bester, he was interrogating him. Bester tried to look humble and said, “They found another mechanic that er…” He moved his lips in silence as if reading from some internal script. “Who fulfilled the ship’s needs more adequatelier.”
Vimes nodded. “I see.” He said in a totally noncommittal way and felt guilty at how pleased he was that Bester looked nervous. “I still have some more interviews to do but I’ll get back to you as soon as I make a decision.” He said as kindly as he could manage. When the lad had left, Vimes looked over his job history again. Serenity, eh? He proceeded to the bridge. “Nobby, see if you can get ahold of Captain Reynolds, of Serenity.” It took some doing but eventually Nobby reached Mal. Vimes took the call in his office. They caught up briefly and then Vimes got down to proper captainy business. He asked about Bester. Mal told him. Then Vimes concluded the call and laughed about what Mal told him all evening.
The following morning Vimes waited in his office. Rosie’s man would be in for an interview soon. Vimes read the man’s resume again. It was so strange. In the docks, usually people just sent a wave saying a man at the pub had told them about the job opening and that was that. This Havelock Vetinari was the only one that had sent an honest to goodness resume. He still couldn’t believe some of it. Most of his job experience was as a private contractor. He’d had contracts with Blue Sun Corporation and the
And now Havelock Vetinari was sitting across Vimes’ desk. The man looked like an accountant or a banker. The suit he was wearing while not really flashy or stylish was well made and professional. He was thin, tall and pale. “Is something wrong, captain?” Vetinari asked after awhile. Vimes shook his head. “No.” He coughed. “Tell me a little about yourself.” Vimes said absently. He wasn’t really paying attention as Vetinari recited his resume. Vimes already knew all the information. The interview was just a formality. This man could work on any ship he liked and for some reason he wanted to work here. “It occurs to me, captain. That you are not really a man of words but of action. So let us not waste time and words. I think you’d prefer if I didn’t tell you of my skills but if I showed you.”
Vimes and Vetinari walked to the engine room. Vetinari walked just ahead of Vimes and knew exactly where he was going. Why not, Vimes thought. Dragonflies are probably all built the same way. There’s probably only so many places someone can put an engine. Vetinari sat down in front of the engine and watched it for awhile. It wasn’t turning but Vetinari watched it intently. “Captain, is there anyone at the bridge right now?” Vimes nodded. “Er… yea. Nobby Nobbs, our pilot’s always up there.” Vetinari nodded and walked over to the intercom. He held down a button and spoke. “Mister Nobbs, my name is Havelock Vetinari. I’m applying for the mechanic’s position. Would you be so kind as to start the Watch up?”
There was a bit of static and then Nobby answered. “Sure, you just want a start up right? No taking off?” Vetinari smiled very briefly. “Yes, just a start up, thank you.” A few seconds later, the engine groaned and rattled as it started to turn. Vetinari sat back down and watched it turning. Then to Vimes’ mild surprise, he closed his eyes. Vetinari’s face was one of intense concentration for a moment and then he relaxed a little. “You need a new compression coil. I must insist that you get one immediately. As in… send one of your men out to get one right now.” The tone made it quite clear to Vimes that the compression coil, whatever that was, was one of the man’s demands and if Vimes didn’t do what the man said, he would walk out of the ship right now and best of luck to Vimes.
Which was totally ridiculous, when negotiating for a job, the first thing you talk about is money not… job details. It was oddly comforting to Vimes. The man cared about the job, he really did. But what kind of person cares more about the job than the money? He watched Vetinari a little longer and then walked over to the intercom. “Carrot, will you take Mr. Vetinari to the salvage lot. We need a compression coil for the ship.” There was a long pause and then Carrot’s voice, crackling a little with static replied, “Yessir.” Vimes turned to Vetinari, was still sitting in front of the engine. He looked like he could just sit there forever and Vimes wondered for a moment, if he’d always been there or if maybe the ship had just been waiting for Vetinari all these weeks.
Carrot came down the engine room and left with Vetinari. Vimes stood in the engine room feeling a little awkward. It was crazy. The Watch was Vimes’ ship. There should be no place on it where Vimes felt like an outsider. Vetinari hadn’t even moved anything, he just walked in and suddenly the engine room was His. Vimes walked out of the engine room, past the supply lockers and entered the galley. Rosie was sitting at the table drinking tea from one of those posh little bowls that were the teacups in a Japanese tea set. She looked up, smiled for a moment and nodded to a chair. Vimes sat down. “I saw Carrot and
Rosie looked at Vimes. “Weird how?” There was a very small change in the atmosphere, Vimes could tell. Rosie looked just a little curious about what Vimes meant but… he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. He just had a great need to tread carefully. “He’s not just a mechanic. He’s an engineer. He’s worked for the
Vimes wrote down the words ‘he likes being entertained’ into his mental notebook. Then he underlined them. “How did you meet him?” He asked carefully. Rosie took a delicate sip from her teacup. “His aunt was my sponsor at the Guild.” Vimes nodded and tried not to say anything. Rosie smirked a little. “You know I’m not supposed to talk about that sort of thing.” Vimes blinked. He hated it when Rosie read his mind. “What thing?” He asked as innocently as he could manage. Rosie gave Vimes a Look. “I’m not supposed to talk about my clients.” Vimes nodded. “So he is a client?” Rosie stood up calmly. She smiled an enigmatic little smile. “I’m not supposed to talk about it.” I can neither confirm nor deny that information. Vimes thought. He shrugged and tried not to care. “Ok. But I am hiring him so I don’t want any… weirdness between you two.” Rosie smirked. “You’ll have no weirdness from my end; you have my personal guarantee on that.”
* Yes, the man had sent a list of references along with his resume.
End of Prologue