Standard fanfic disclaimer that wouldn't last ten seconds in a court of law: Based on characters and situations created by Joss Whedon. No attempt to violate his copyrights, just ... uh, typing practice. Yeah, that's it, typing practice. All characters will be returned to the Joss-man, suitably bandaged, as soon as I'm done with them. Originally printed in the fanzine Of Dreams and Schemes #20
The Slaves of Mephitis
by Susan M. M.
a Firefly story
based on characters and situations created by Joss Whedon
{rated PG-13}
"Mighty fine dinner," Captain Mal Reynolds complimented his host. The captain-owner of the Firefly-class spaceship Serenity was a brown-haired man in his mid-thirties.
"The least we can do, after you brought our grain in ahead of schedule," replied Patron Noé Santiago. The plantation owner was a chubby fellow with curly black hair. "Of course, I am lucky in owning a good cook."
His wife, Patrona Cecilia Santiago, turned to one of the other guests. "Don't you say a word, Carlos. Jan isn't for sale."
"I'll give you a fair price for her," Patron Carlos Gonzalez-Zimmerman said in the tones of a man who'd made the same offer many times before, and been turned down each time.
The subject of their discussion, an auburn-haired woman in her thirties, refilled wine glasses. Her face was as blank as if the dinner party were still discussing the quadro-triticale seeds Malcolm Reynolds had delivered.
Thunder roared. The lights flickered, then came back on a second later.
"Perhaps the next time you return to Mephitis, Captain Reynolds, you should bring generators instead of grain," suggested another plantation owner.
Mal shrugged. "I'll haul any cargo I can get a good price for." Seeing some of the patronas frowning at his mention of anything as crass as profit, he added mendaciously, "Of course, the cargo is just an excuse for me to go meanderin' through the stars."
Through the bay windows, lightning flashed repeatedly. The power went off again, leaving only the candlelight. Jan disappeared, returning a few moments later with additional candles.
"The storm is growing worse, patron. Shall I have the guest bedrooms prepared?" she asked.
Santiago nodded. She curtsied and left the room.
"Now that the lights are out, perhaps this would be an appropriate time for you to tell us of some of your adventures, Captain Reynolds," suggested one of the patronas. Mal couldn't remember if she was Patrona Chan-Mercado or Patrona Garcia-Lee; he'd been introduced to too many plantation owners and their wives to keep all the names straight. "With a storm howling and the lights out, surely that's best time to tell stories about Reavers."
Mal shook his head. "I know plenty of stories about Reavers, but ain't none of them fit for decent company." He pulled his communicator out of his pocket. "Would you excuse me a moment, while I let my ship know I'll be delayed?"
## ### ## ###
Mal looked up when he heard a knock on his bedroom door. "Enter."
Jan came into the room. She dropped a curtsy. Her auburn hair was out of its bun; instead it hung loose about her shoulders. Her bodice had been loosened, providing a much more interesting view than he'd seen at dinner. "Is there anything the captain needs? Wine, tea, …anything?"
"That depends. Did Patron Santiago send you, or are you askin' on your own?"
"Does it make a difference?" she asked.
"Does to me," Mal said.
She smiled. "The patron doesn't know I'm here. Is there … anything I can do for you? If I'm disturbing you, I can leave. You may report my insolence to the patron in the morning." He didn't reply right away. She curtsied again, lower this time. "I apologize for disturbing you, Captain."
"You ain't disturbin' me."
Jan began unlacing her bodice.
## ### ## ###
"I have a proposition for you, Captain Reynolds," Jan said an hour later.
"Oh? I was under the impression you already propositioned me." Mal lay on one arm, caressing her hair.
"A business proposition," she clarified. "Now that you've delivered the quadro-triticale, your ship's holds are empty. How many slaves could you fit in the holds?"
"Stealin' slaves is against the law," Mal pointed out. As far as the government was concerned, helping slaves escape was the same as stealing them. "You gave me a mighty fine tumble in the hay, but not enough to risk the law on my back." He was already wanted for several offenses, but slave stealing wasn't one of them … yet.
"We can pay. Two hundred platinum. Plus me, or any other female who pleases you, to warm your bed until we reach a safe planet. Any planet."
"What would happen if I told Santiago about your business proposition at breakfast tomorrow?"
"The patron would offer you the choice of whipping me yourself, or watching as he had me flogged. There might also be a cash reward," she acknowledged. There was also a good chance that the patron might sell her to the Gonzalez-Zimmermans, but she didn't think that would interest him.
"As much as two hundred platinum?"
She shook her head. "Fifty, perhaps seventy-five."
"What's to keep me from takin' your money, and then re-sellin' y'all when we hit dirtside?"
"Absolutely nothing," she admitted.
The dark-haired star wanderer thought a moment. "If thirty-forty slaves disappear same time as I lift off, they'll know it's me. Santiago and the other patrons will have the law after me in a heartbeat. Even if I escaped the Alliance patrols, I'd never be able to do business on Mephitis again."
Jan looked at him, praying silently.
"If I leave a communicator with you, could you keep it hid for two-three weeks?"
"Yes, Captain."
"Then I'll sneak back in a few weeks. Forty people max – fewer would be better. You'll be sleepin' on cold metal decks, with slim rations and a long wait for the bathroom," Mal warned her. "You pay me that two hundred platinum now, and another two hundred when I come back."
"No, Captain."
"No?"
"We're stealing the money from the patron. If we steal it right before we escape, he won't notice until it's too late. But two thefts – one now and one when we run, even an idiot like the patron couldn't help but notice that. Security would be tightened as soon as the theft was discovered. We'd never be able to escape."
"As much as I've enjoyed your company, your feminine charms aren't enough to reserve my ship for a venture this risky."
"What if I had her lady's-maid steal some of the patrona's jewelry? Would that reserve passage?"
"Might could. If it's the real thing, and not just costume jewelry."
"The patrona would never be caught dead in costume jewelry," Jan assured him. She did not mention that the lady's-maid would be flogged when the jewelry couldn't be found; freedom was worth a few stripes.
"We have a deal. I'll give you my communicator before I go. I'll contact you when I get back."
## ### ## ###
It was more than a month before Serenity returned to Mephitis. First they went to Tuckaleechee, to sell the flour and woolen goods they'd picked up on Mephitis, and to fence Patrona Santiago's pearl necklace for one hundred and ten plat. Then on to Mundorojo, with the computer parts they'd gotten at Tuckaleechee. Mal fenced the patrona's emerald brooch – except it turned out to be tourmaline, and only worth sixty platinum. From Mundorojo they picked up a cargo of frozen bull semen, farm implements, and hats to sell on New Hunan.
Once they'd delivered their cargo and refueled the ship on New Hunan, Kaylee Frye, the teenaged mechanic, asked "Should I advertise for passengers, or do you have a job lined up?"
"Got a job waitin' for us back on Mephitis," Mal replied.
"That 'personnel removal' you mentioned?" ZoeWashburn, Serenity's XO, frowned. The job struck the Black woman as too risky, for too little financial reimbursement. Mal's quixotic sense of chivalry woke up at the most inconvenient times. "We planning to pick up any cargo to resell there?"
Mal shook his head. "I wanna be in and out before they know we're there. The patrons on Mephitis only know us as legitimate businessmen. Kinda like to keep it that way, in case we come back."
Zoe nodded, still unconvinced.
"Kaylee, buy up some nutri-bars and a portapotty or two," Mal ordered.
"Nutri-bars and portapotties?" the young brunette repeated.
Mal nodded. "We're gonna fetch some passengers. Already warned 'em they ain't gonna be traveling first class."
## ### ## ###
Mal clicked twice on the communicator. He didn't dare speak aloud. Jan might not be alone.
A moment later he heard her voice. She sounded half-asleep. "Captain Reynolds?"
"Yep. Sorry if I woke you. Wanted to call late enough to be sure you were alone."
"I thought you'd forgotten us," Jan told him.
"We were delayed in transit. There's a canyon five miles south of Santiago's house. Can you have your people there forty-eight hours from now?" Mal asked.
"Fifty hours would be safer, or fifty-two. It's a long walk in the dark, after putting in a full day's work in the fields."
"I'll be there in fifty hours. I'll leave in fifty-two hours – sooner if the law comes by. You be there, with three hundred platinum."
"The deal was two hundred platinum," she protested.
"Three hundred, in fifty hours. Take it or leave it. Reynolds out." He turned off the communicator.
## ### ### ##
Mal Reynolds counted heads as fifty-six men, women, and children filed aboard his ship. "I told you forty, less if possible."
"You also told us two hundred platinum," Jan retorted.
"Don't complain about the smell if it's more than the sanitation system can handle," he warned.
"We've lived through worse than bad smells." She handed him a small sack. "Three hundred platinum."
He took it without a word and stuck it in his jacket pocket.
"I'm surprised you're not counting it."
"Got the whole trip for that. If you're short, then I just sell a few of Santiago's slaves to make up the difference … startin' with you."
"It's all there," she replied testily.
"Better be," Mal replied.
"That's the last of 'em, Cap," Jayne Cobb shouted. He was a big man, with short brown hair and bulging muscles.
"Tell Wash we're ready to lift. Let's get out of here." Mal gestured to Jan to precede him up the ramp.
"One part of your fee we haven't settled yet, Captain," Jan added reluctantly.
Mal raised an eyebrow.
"Did you want me to report to your cabin now? Or would you prefer to look over the others and then make your choice?"
"You're a client now. Don't do to mix business and pleasure," Mal told her gently. He was a man of scruples – not many, admittedly – but even after six years in the Black, he still had some scruples left. He'd never taken an unwilling woman in his life. Claiming a reluctant female wasn't quite rape, but it was close enough to make him uncomfortable.
Mal turned his back on her – before he had a chance to change his mind – and headed halfway up the stairs. "Listen up."
Everyone turned to look at him.
"Next week or so, you're gonna be a mite cozy. You'll have to stay here in the cargo hold. For safety reasons, the rest of the ship is off-limits. Got a doctor aboard. If anyone is hurt or sick, let him know. Got more of you here than we planned on, so space, food, and um, sanitary facilities are gonna be limited. Put up with it as best you can. We'll have you in your new home as quick as we can."