The voice echoed over the bridge.
"Pardon me for intrudin', but I believe y'all are carrying something of mine."
The reply was almost instant.
"T'aint yourn."
Again, there was little or no hesitation between exchanges.
"You gonna talk words to me? You gonna mouth off after what you done? Did you think we wouldn't find out you changed your route? You're gonna give us what's due to us, and every damn thing else on the boat, and I think maybe you're gonna give me a little one-on-one time with the missus."
At this point, the casual observer might have noted that the two voices sounded extremely similar. Or that the speakers appeared to be toy dinosaurs held aloft and animated by a fair-haired, amiable looking man. The stegosaurus made his comeback:
"You might wanna reconsider that last part, see, I married me a powerful ugly creature."
Wash dropped the T-Rex, and grabbed a nearby pterodactyl.
"How can you say that? How can you shame me in front of new people?"
The steg' had an answer to that, too.
"If I could make you prettier, I would."
The pterodactyl managed to respond with:
"You are not the man I met a year ago!"
Before a wave interrupted the saga before any violence was reached. Just as well, really, as dinosaurs can't hold guns.
Wash answered the wave, and then hit the intercom button.
"Mal, gotta wave for you. You want me to send it down to your bunk?"
After a moment, the captain appeared in the doorway.
"Is that a no?"
Mal ignored him, and turned to the screen.
"Badger, what can I do for you?"
The dirty, bowler hatted man sneered as he replied.
"Get rid of that heap of ge-se you fly and get a ship that could pull actual jobs, insteada the schoolboy errands I give you."
"You waved me for that?" Mal knew full well he hadn't, but if there were anyway he could possibly annoy Badger….
"I waved with an errand for you…Captain." Somehow, this vocative sounded like the word "scum" when it was intoned in such a way. "Know of some cargo wants movin'."
Mal took this opportunity to smile a smile he knew would get Badger's pants all knotted in all kindsa ways.
"Why call on the humble captain of a heap of ge-se?"
He giggled internally as Badger fumed for a moment.
"It's near where you're at, and no other crew is fong-lu enough to go anywhere that can be considered close to the Allen moon."
Wash looked up from replacing all the dinosaurs back in their places.
"Allen? Uh, Captain, we really don't wanna go there."
Mal glanced at him for the first time since entering the bridge. He was right. That particular moon was near ruled by vigilante mobs. Far from the alliance, maybe, but just for once it'd be nice to do a job where no one got shot. And yet.
"We need the money, Wash." He turned back to the screen. "How much?"
Badger gave a tight smile.
"That's for you to negotiate with whoever wants it moved."
"And just who might that be?"
"Dint' get a name. You just meet 'em in a bar called the…." Badger glanced at someone Mal and Wash couldn't see on the screen. "The Mersey. And you give me fifty percent."
Mal didn't even consider it.
"Ten."
"Forty."
"Twenty."
"Thirty."
"Twenty five."
"Twenty five? You insult me, Captain. Might as well just pay twenty."
"Twenty? Done."
Mal smirked. Badger almost snarled.
"Just pay me soon, Mal."
The wave ended.
"Wash?"
"I know, I know. Set a course for Allen. Already doing it."
Wash reached up and flicked three switches above his head. Mal smiled. You could always depend on Wash, even if he did wear possibly the ugliest shirts in the 'verse. Leaving the pilot to do his job, he went to ready the rest of the crew, making a mental note that only the "squads" were permitted weaponry on Allen.