PROLOGUE

A drop of deathly crimson blood fell from the corner of Mal's parched lips. It slowly floated towards the blood stained dirt, impacting in a small cloud of brown dust that rose into his face and clung to his eyelashes, making him blink furiously. Mal was on his hands and knees, his eyes wide yet they didn't seem to be taking anything in. Dazed, confused.

Another drop slid around his dry lips, slipping off the cracked edge. As it did so, he felt a short, sharp kick to the side of his ribs. He was thrown back by the force, falling on his back next to the pool of blood. His blood. The world spun and slowly readjusted itself as he lay flat.

He coughed, more blood pouring out in splashes. The kick had weakened his left rib. The fall had snapped it out of position. He arched his back up in pain, his teeth biting together hard.

As he pulled up his chest, his head was now on an angle that he could see what lay behind him. He saw Serenity, upside down from his point of view, sitting about one hundred meters from where he was, its front landing gear bent unnaturally inwards so that the nose of the ship was pointing down, crumpled into the ground from an impact Mal hadn't seen or simply couldn't remember.

Fire leapt up from its left wing. The hangar door was wide open and standing outside it were three armed men. Strangers to Mal. And they were wearing browncoats…

Mal instinctively reached for his gun only to find an empty holster.

He let his chest drop back down slowly. 'Son of a ─'

'Mu gou?' a figure standing over Mal said. 'Yes, she was a bit; my mother I mean. Terrible cook too. But she did teach me one thing before she was butchered by Reavers: never give your enemy the upper hand.' As the man said this, he swung Mal's gun above him, an evil smirk plastered on his face. He was flanked by two heavily armed and very large guards.

Mal didn't move. His mind was racing, but all he felt was pain in his body and rage towards the man in front of him. Mal had met him before and he was all manner of bad.

'Oh, I'm sorry, were you looking for this?' the man mocked surprise. 'Fantastic gun by the way. Hard to find one just quite like it anymore. Unification era, am I right?'

Mal didn't answer.

'Of course it is, isn't it Sergeant Malcolm Reynolds of the Independents?'

Mal grit his teeth. He hated this man more than he had ever hated anyone before. His rage was barely containable, but he could do nothing in his current state.

'I'm actually quite surprised, Malcolm,' the man continued. He lifted his foot and rested on Mal's broken ribs. Mal lurched in pain, but the man's foot kept him on the ground.

'Surprised,' he continued, 'but, then again, after all these years I couldn't possibly expect you to be the legend that you were in the War. The great Sergeant Reynolds who led his men through Serenity Valley only to be betrayed by his superiors and left there to die. But you still got out of that valley, didn't you Malcolm? A very impressive effort, outnumbered by the much larger forces of the Alliance.'

Mal grimaced as the foot dug into the side of his stomach, his broken rib scratching his left lung. He felt like he was going to pass out, but he used all of his will to keep his eyes open.

'But even great men become mortal in time. All these years of running from the Alliance, like a scared little child. What happened, Malcolm? You fought them, stood up to them, rebelled. And now you run from them?'

He pushed harder.

Mal screamed in pain. His chest felt like it was ripping itself apart.

'What happened, Malcolm? Maybe your reputation precedes you. After all, the Alliance aren't exactly the hardest people to allude. I should know, I've been doing it for years. I honestly thought you might be a help to my cause. A leader. Someone useful. Someone we need.'

The man released his foot.

'But I was obviously mistaken.'

Mal shook his head, keeping himself awake. 'Where… where's my crew?'

The man chuckled, kneeling down to Mal so that his face was level. 'Nasty blow to the head you got in the crash.' He tapped Mal's pistol on the top of his head. 'You really are in quite a daze aren't you?' Mal went to grab his gun back but the man cocked the weapon, pushing harder against Mal's head as a metallic device inside the pistol readied the next bullet in the chamber.

'Uh uh,' he said shaking his head. 'Never give your enemy the upper hand,' he repeated, tapping the gun's barrel on Mal's forehead with each word. 'It appears our roles are opposite since our last meeting, no?'

'What do you want with me?' Mal asked, frustrated. 'I'm assuming there's something or I wouldn't be breathin'.'

'Your time will come, Malcolm. Don't you worry about that.' The man stood up. 'But I believe that killing your enemy when there is much more they can do for you before death is a waste.'

'You really expect me to do anything for you, you sick sack of pihua,' Mal spat, sweat pouring down his face, into his eyes. He blinked it away.

The man smiled his evil smile. 'Have you heard of leverage, sergeant?'

Before Mal could answer, the guard on the man's right held up a radio and a distressed voice shouted out of the small speaker. A familiar voice.

'Kaylee…' Mal said, floored completely.

The man raised his hand and the guard turned the radio off.

'Let her go,' Mal threatened.

'Why would I do that? Like I said, Malcolm, leverage. This repeating myself really has to stop. I hate to think I'm talking and no one's listening. Are you listening?' He turned to the guard on his right, who nodded slowly.

'Give me my gun and we'll settle this right now,' Mal said, knowing full well he wasn't right to stand let alone fight. But Kaylee was in trouble…

'I'm afraid that is not a very smart option for me, Malcolm.'

'So it's a fair fight you want?'

'No,' said the man walking away. 'I think you misinterpreted my meaning. But consider this pay back. And what is it that you say… eh, enjoy?'

Then, he walked out of Mal's view, limping on his right leg, and the guard on the left stepped forward, kicking Mal in the ribs again. The force of the kick pushed Mal's broken rib into his lung. The point of the bone pierced the soft tissue of the lung like a knife cutting through butter. Blood pooled up in his mouth. He was in too much shock to scream.

The second guard laughed, staring him square in the face. 'Nighty night,' he said maniacally before slamming the butt of his rifle into Mal's face, breaking his nose in a cloud of blood and snapping bone.

Then there was nothing but darkness.

CHAPTER ONE

THE CORE

Fourteen Days Earlier…

As places went, this one wasn't too bad.

Mal looked around. Sure it was fancy. It had the look, and feel, of a well funded Alliance building stationed neatly amongst other well funded Alliance buildings that populated the Alliance planets furthest away from all the problems and strife of the outer rim, closer to the "true civilisation" of the core.

At least everyone looked happy. Smiling their fake smiles and laughing their fake laughs.

Mal looked around. No, he decided spontaneously. No. He hated this place.

This place was pigu.

'You'll have to teach me.'

Inara's eyes sparkled, found his. 'Teach you what?'

'There must be a way you manage to tolerate the annoying folk 'round these places you go to all the time you can teach me?' Mal asked, looking down at Inara who was hanging onto his arm lovingly.

Or at least, that's what it looked like to everyone around them.

Inara laughed loudly to add to the illusion that they were indeed a couple. Inara Serra was almost royalty in these circles and she had an image to keep: she had to look as if she were enjoying herself. That, and it looked better for the job if they blended in.

She leant in close to his ear and whispered, 'As I recall this was your idea so you can learn to tolerate. And to do so, quietly.'

'That last part optional?' Mal said with a sly smile.

'I happen to like this place, Mal.' She looked around at the women in beautiful dresses and the men in flattering suits, all dancing and talking amongst themselves. 'It reminds me…' she began almost sadly, 'it reminds me of home, of what life used to be like.'

'Before you fell in with all us folk of thievery and danger?'

Inara sighed. 'That's not what I meant.'

Mal laughed it off. 'I was just joking; I know what you meant plenty. Cheer up, 'Nara. We're at a party.'

The party, the one of the decade, Mal had been told by the very enthusiastic usher at the front door, was being held on Liann Jiun, in the main city. Held in the large hall beside the famous bioluminescent lake that was a popular tourist swimming spot, Mal had been told that the inter-planetary gathering was in celebration of Liann being named one of the cleanest and safest planets in the 'verse. The hall was filled with Liann government officials and many from other planets who had come to join in the celebrations, as well as local, high class socialites from the city businesses and such.

'All this celebratin' for bein' clean?' Mal said to himself, still confused as to the nature of the party.

'Some people take their hygiene somewhat more seriously than what you're used to Mal,' Inara teased.

'Don't seem to make much sense to me.'

'When does anything?'

Mal shot her a joking look, taking her cues, their exchange as delicate as a waltz. 'When I'm in a place that don't light candles for havin' more money than anyone else.'

'This has nothing to do with money.'

'To be clean you need money. To hold a party, you need money.'

'Mal, we are here to get money,' Inara added.

'Yeah, but… that's for us.'

'So that makes it better?'

Mal nodded with a smile. 'Somewhat. Least we don't misuse it neither.'

'Well, I think that it's a very convivial party, regardless.'

'Yes. Very con… conviv… very shiny party,' he settled on. 'Don't see no cake though. Guess that'd be too messy.'

'The only thing that's dirty here is what we're doing.'

'Hey, it's not like we're stealing from the nicest of people. I hear this guy's a real monster.'

'Well thanks for clearing my doubts, Robin Hood.'

Mal looked confusedly down at her. 'Robin who now?'

He hadn't been to Liann Jiun before, but he still felt like he was an uneasy, a gazelle in a pack of lions. It wasn't the contrast between his lifestyle and the luxury of the third star orbiting the White Sun, the center of the 'verse, that made him feel so out of place, so different. For six months he had watched his back more than he usually did, almost expecting trouble. He was used to preparing for trouble, treading lightly. It came with the job. Knowing it was coming was different.

Being a wanted fugitive made you paranoid like that. They weren't just a little annoyance for the Alliance anymore, floating on the outskirts of civilised space causing almost unnoticeable trouble to get by. They had publically humiliated the Alliance with the buried truth that was the planet of Miranda, the planet where a secretive, black sector of the Alliance had un-wittingly created the feared, cannibalistic Reavers that plagued the 'verse and its inhabitants.

Mal didn't have the best history with the Alliance to begin with, fighting against them in the War. His decision to show the 'verse the truth had come with its consequences, but he had never contemplated the exact effect being hunted would be.

The Alliance was in political turmoil. The finger of blame was being pointed at them from all sides as the planets on the Rim, the planets not funded by Alliance money, began to accuse them of mass murder, leaving them out in the vulnerability of space where Reaver attacks were more frequent.

There was even talk of a second war. The truth, it seemed, had its price.

The negative reaction to the Miranda broadcast had made Mal, and his crew, public enemy number one to all the core planets, and heroes to the people on the Rim. It was funny how you could be hated and loved at the same time, a divine contrast.

The contractors of the job had ensured Mal that he would arrive on Liann without any trouble. Mal had his doubts, Liann being an Alliance planet. He had almost refused the job, but jobs were hard to come by lately, and the money was too good to say no.

Even so, they had taken a few extra precautions, such as using one of the ship's pods rather than the ship itself which was no doubt tagged for future arrivals.

As they walked around, arm in arm, Mal fidgeted with his pants.

'Itchy?' Inara asked.

'Too tight,' Mal responded. 'Do they look tight?'

Inara laughed. 'No more than they're meant to be.'

Mal left his pants be and lowered his voice into a mere whisper. 'Hey… you know that thing we were going to talk about…'

'I really don't think now's the time, Mal,' Inara said, blushing with cheeks as red as a fire.

'Well, I don't exactly got me a calendar with a list of dates for these sorts o' things so maybe now isn't so─'

Mal didn't manage to finish. Beside them, an old acquaintance of Inara glided past, her feet invisible behind her long dress tails, and the two briefly nodded politely. More fake niceties, Mal thought as he watched their exchange.

'This is why I don't venture to these parts often,' he muttered as the lady drifted to a more important person that being seen with would boost her social status.

'This being…'

'What was that ladies name?' Mal asked.

'Zariah. Ilesha Zariah,' Inara responded with barely hidden distain.

'And I'm bettin' you ain't too fond of Miss Zariah?'

Inara seemed to hesitate, stubbornly not wanting to prove his point. 'She's a very nice person,' she said simply.

'Not to you thought. Maybe to Mr. Monopoly over there.' Mal nodded over to the old man Zariah was talking to who had a comically folded over hair cut that was supposed to mask the bald spot at the back of his head. Mal could see it plain as day that Zariah was flirting with the old man, who looked very important and very wealthy. Inara chuckled warmly.

'All the fakeness,' Mal said. 'That's why I don't like the core. Lovely Zariah there will probably sweep him off his feet ─ figuratively 'course 'cause if she did for real he would no doubt break a hip ─ be taken to his house, wait till he falls victim to old age or, even the shock of seeing how bad his hair is next time he takes a look into a mirror. Then, money's all hers, ain't it? And you have to pretend you like her 'cause that's how it is 'round here.'

'You don't like it here because we're too nice?' Inara asked with raised eyebrows atop beautiful eyes that Mal could stare into all day, but never let her notice.

'You don't like someone where I'm from, you hit 'em. Simple. You don't bow and curtsy for 'em. No need to play pretend.'

'It's not playing pretend,' Inara said. 'It's tolerating people who you don't like to make for a peaceful world.'

'There's that word again and I still am to find out its use.'

Inara smiled at him, the warm lights casting yellow lines on her face, illuminating her beauty. 'Well, as much as you may disapprove of Ilesha trying to get money from that man, you shouldn't worry. I hear he's a real monster…'

Mal stopped walking and leant in close to Inara. 'Please tell me that's not─'

'Chairman Niyita, of the Ariel Parliament branch, the man we're stealing from, yes it is.'

'Qing wa cao de liu mang,' Mal swore. 'Us stealin' from him makes everything I just said a mite ironic, don't it?'

'Just a mite…'

'But he's so old and…'

'Monstrous,' Inara guessed.

'The hair cut yes, but… well he may not look it but this guy's bad. Don't you worry 'bout that. Looks can be deceiving.'

Inara laughed. 'They certainly can. If I didn't know better I'd say you were a perfect gentleman.'

'And I'm not?'

He looked down at her and she gave him an unconvinced smile.

'Suppose I'll just have to live with it. I stand by what I said about the fakeness though.'

'Why wouldn't you?' Inara asked sarcastically. 'Your evidence was very compelling…'

Fate had a funny way of working out. In a lot of ways, it is like a wild beast: people think they can tame it, bend it to their will, but in the end, it will act on its own, independent to its ignorant masters.

For Kaywinnet Lee Frye, or Kaylee as most called her, fate was a double edged sword. It had brought her the love of her life, but had filled him with clumsiness rather than grace. It was a strange feeling to want to be with someone and to want to slap them at the same time for being so moronic in their decisions.

Simon Tam was that kind of guy though. Handsome, polite and brave, yet stubborn and as subtly poor in conversation as a sledgehammer is when taking down a building.

She had tried to tame the wild beast. For a few months after the Miranda incident she had labelled him under the old-fashioned "boyfriend" title. It had gone well, even though it hadn't lasted long. For the first time, she felt like she had belonged with someone.

But fate worked on its own, and nothing she could do could alter it.

'This is a waste o' time.'

Jayne Cobb's gruff voice pulled Kaylee out of her daze and in a moment she realised she had been staring at Simon for too long. She diverted her eyes quickly, and said something to disguise her embarrassment.

'What is?'

Jayne angrily thrust his fork into the cheap, cardboard-thin steak on his plate as he swallowed down the last mouthful. 'This "steak-out"… pardon the pan.'

'The pun,' Simon corrected, holding, but not drinking, his glass of beer.

'No thanks, I'm eating.'

Kaylee's cheeks brightened back to their normal colour as she laughed. Simon and Jayne were as opposite as you could find. The doctor and the mercenary.

'Cap'n seems to think otherwise,' she said sweetly, a cheerful bounce in every word she spoke. 'I don't blame 'im really. He's been a mite suspicious of everyone lately. Well… more so than is usual.'

Simon looked up at her. 'He is a criminal. I mean, he has reason to be suspicious, right?'

While Mal and Inara were inside the town hall, which sat neat and tidy just across the road from the little bar Kaylee, Simon and Jayne were occupying, the three of them were making sure the Liann Jiun police didn't show up at the party as per Mal's instructions. If they did, they were to call Mal and notify him.

'Don't get all noble on us, Doctor "I-was-brought-up-with-coin",' Jayne spat indignantly, food still in his mouth yet less so after his sentence. 'You haven't exactly been an angel on all our little escapad's. Remember Ariel? Hm? You were all kinds of criminal there.'

'Escapade,' Simon corrected again, deadpan. 'And, you're right Jayne I was. But I did it for the right reason. At least, what I thought was the right reason. I just hope what Mal did was for the right reason and not just to annoy the Alliance. I wouldn't doubt that what we did on Miranda has made it impossible to lose our anonymity.'

Jayne looked down at the doctor. 'Where're going with all this gong niu pihua.'

'I'm just saying,' Simon persisted, 'I wouldn't be surprised that after Miranda the Alliance weren't looking for revenge.'

'Cap'n hasn't said nothin' 'bout bein' chased by the Alliance no more than we're used to.'

'Well, I hate to say I have reason to doubt the captain…'

Kaylee scowled at Simon. She didn't like him talking bad about Mal.

'Yeah, well I got good reason to doubt this ruttin' plan of sittin' on our asses and eating backwater grub.'

'You would rather go in and blow the place to hell?'

'Well, actually─'

Simon stopped him and shook his head. 'Rhetorical.'

Kaylee looked around. She liked to see how other people lived. A lot of her life had been spent on her own back-water planet on her daddy's farm that worlds, especially world's on the core like Liann, made her eyes light up with wonder.

On the Rim, you would see people riding their horses through a dusty old town. Here, she had seen about two horse-drawn hover-carriages ride past the large bar window. She had always wanted to ride in a hover-carriage, but time and money never seemed to allow.

When Jayne had finished his steak, he no longer had anything to fill his mouth and keep him busy.

'This is pigu,' he exclaimed. 'We should be in there busting open that Chairman's room, not keeping a look out for the feds.'

Abruptly, Jayne pushed away from the low table, causing Simon to jump. 'I'm goin' to get some fresh air.' Before anyone could stop him, he was out the door, standing in the light of a tall street lamp.

Fate had a funny way of working out. With Jayne gone, the tension that had been buried between Kaylee and Simon reared its head, and all they could do was look at each other awkwardly.

Simon, subtle as a sledgehammer, said, 'Your hair looks nice tonight.'

Kaylee held back her natural smile and just nodded. 'Thank you.'

'Not that it doesn't normally,' he blurted out, his mouth moving independently of his brain. 'I mean, with all the grease in the engine room, I wouldn't blame you if it did look bad, but…'

Kaylee dropped her head and looked away.

Simon stared at the back of her head for a moment, mouth still open but clumsy words no longer pouring out. He closed his mouth, looked ahead through the long length of glass at the big town hall where the party was going on, and took a big gulp of his beer.

Kaylee sighed. She prayed that Mal and Inara would hurry.

In the higher levels of the hall, everything was just as fancy as down where everyone continued to dance to the classical music which endlessly recycled to a beat that Mal didn't understand.

There wasn't a lot Mal understood about his place. Why was there flower in the bathroom? Why were there five portraits of Chairman Niyita running along the wall beside the stair case when clearly one was sufficient? Why was there, and only God knew, a 100 meter long hallway that lead to one room?

A lot of money made people do strange things.

'Which room is his office?' Inara asked in a whisper.

'Just look for the gold encrusted door-knob.'

Inara ignored him, turning all her attention to finding the door as they walked slowly down the long hall. She hoped that there was a door at the seemingly unattainable ending. It was not in her best interest to meander around the private areas of the town hall longer than they had to.

Mal was momentarily deflated when she said nothing. It wasn't as much fun when the beautiful fish took the bait.

The music became fainter as they made their journey further. The light began to fade to almost complete blackness.

'Is that a door up ahead?' she asked.

'Can't be certain,' Mal replied after inspecting the distance. 'Where are the lights in this place?'

'No one's meant to be here at this hour.'

'There a switch or somethin'?'

'No. Voice activation,' Inara said matter-of-factly. 'This isn't the 24th Century, Mal.'

As she walked ahead, feeling her way rather than seeing, he mouthed her words childishly behind her.

'What exactly are we looking for when we find this room?' Inara asked.

Good question, Mal thought. 'I'll know it when I see it,' he responded with an unfounded firmness.

'That's promising.'

'You need to learn to trust my intuition more, 'Nara,' Mal said.

Bang! A noise. They both stopped.

'What was that?' Inara asked in a hurried whisper.

Mal didn't reply. She spun around in the darkness, searching for him.

'Mal?'

'Uh-huh?' he said, reserved.

'You walked into that table didn't you?'

'Uh-huh,' he breathed out, grasping his leg. 'What is that, made of a stone? I feel like I got hit by a transport.'

She shook her head disapprovingly, kept walking forward. 'Spoke too soon about your intuition I assume?'

'It works better in the daylight.'

'I would hope.'

They continued for less than a minute, treading carefully, Mal more so than Inara, looking for the door to Niyita's private office. Eventually, they found it, a squat, antique wooden door with gold-coloured paint trimmings.

When Mal saw this colour, he turned confidently to Inara and gave her an overtly triumphant look, to which she rolled her eyes.

'You said the door knob.'

'I was right about the gold though.'

She ignored him, dug into her dress pocket and pulled out what looked like a plastic card, about the size of her palm.

'What's that?'

She didn't answer, instead swiped the card through the small metallic recess that jutted out like teeth from beside the handle. The door beeped politely, and Inara pulled the door open successfully. Light flooded out, catching them both off guard, their eyes adjusted to the shadows.

'How'd… how did you…' Mal stammered.

Inara shrugged her shoulders. 'I stole it off Niyita earlier.'

She walked inside the office calmly, leaving Mal behind her, standing awkwardly in the doorway.

'You pick-pocketed him?' was all he managed to say.

'Don't sound so surprised, Mal. I'm not the helpless girl.'

Mal walked into the office, still surprised. His mouth agape, he tried to say something, but he decided against it. Instead he made himself busy, looked around.

The office wasn't small, but it wasn't large either. Making up for the relatively small space were the most expensive looking furniture Mal had ever seen. The mahogany desk in the center shone pristine in the yellow light of the lamp which sat on top of it. A tall book case took up the entire east wall, books leaving no space in the rows of shelves. The ground was a thick, cream tinted carpet that Mal could feel, even through his boots, the soft, almost spider thin fibres that would have taken one hundred off-world slaves one hundred hours to thread.

Mal could admire hard work.

He moved his foot through the tangle of cream thread. 'This carpets all manner of soft.'

'Is that what you were talking about when you said you would know what we were looking for when you saw it?' Inara asked as she stood admiring the wall-size glass window that serenaded behind the mahogany desk. It looked out over the bioluminescent lake, and the blue, surreal glow of the water illuminated her face from even two stories up.

'I'll find it,' he assured her, moving over to the desk.

The contractors had told Mal over the wave that they desired personal effects of Niyita. When he asked what those effects were exactly, the contractor, whose face was distorted by interference, had cryptically diverted answering. Mal knew better than to push him further.

Everything the contractor had said to Mal had been cryptic, like it was his job to be polite, yet non-precise. The effects Mal was looking for was described to him as looking "important" being in the same place as the secondary objective.

Interestingly, as a side note, almost as if it were less important which was a new concept to Mal, a small sum of money was also to be stolen: the secondary objective. Part of the money would go towards paying for the job.

As Mal rummaged through the Chairman's desk, Inara observed him with crossed arms and a seemingly disinterested demeanour.

'So how were you planning on getting in here?'

He stopped what he was turning, looked over his shoulder. 'Pardon?'

'If I hadn't have stolen the key card to get in here, what was your plan?'

Mal stared at her and then quickly avoided her eye contact. 'You know, I was just gonna… break it. The door… I would have broken the door.'

Inara smirked, suppressing a laugh.

'What?'

'Nothing, nothing,' she said with a wide smile and deviant eyes. 'You need me more often.'

Mal chuckled, went back to his searching. He didn't see it, but Inara began to blush, realising what she had said and how Mal could have interpreted it.

'On jobs,' she added quickly, suspiciously. 'On jobs like this.'

Mal looked over his shoulder again. He smiled weakly, slightly confused, and again returned again to his business.

She cursed herself silently, and began to wander around the room in a helpless effort to avoid burning suspicion from Mal.

'Found anything?' she asked after an entire circle of the desk.

Mal didn't answer. Instead, he hurried over to the book case, careful of the time they were spending in the restricted office.

Inara kept walking around. As she walked past the desk, brushing the side of the top of it, she felt a loose board creak under foot and met Mal's eyes as he heard it too.

'Ha ha,' he exclaimed rushing hastily over to her. 'Should've guessed the old, "under the loose board", trick.'

'That a favourite of yours?'

Mal got down on one knee, pulled out a short blade. 'Wouldn't be a trick if I told you.'

He stabbed the knife into the carpet, cut a square out of the rich, elegant material, tore the last rib of the square off of the body and tossed it aside, revealing the wooden floorboards beneath. He knocked on one of them. It sounded solid. The one beside it however gave an acoustic response that indicated there was an empty space underneath.

He looked up at Inara with a smile which she mirrored. For a moment, he felt like he had stared too long, and quickly looked back down at the board.

Digging the blade into the small gap between the hollow board and the adjacent one, Mal used the knife like a lever, pulling the board out of place in a moment. In its place, was a shallow hole which housed a bank chip with hundreds of thousands of credits, as well as an unmarked manila envelope.

Mal pulled them both out.

'Is that what we're here for?' Inara looked pointedly at the paper in Mal's hand. 'An… an envelope?'

'I'm not rightly sure as to why myself,' Mal admitted, examining every inch of the envelope as if there was some hidden meaning why the contractors would want it. He could feel some papers inside but didn't have time to look at them.

'This shiny money makes all manner of sense though,' he said with a wide grin as he handed her the bank chip.

As Mal replaced the board and the square of carpet like puzzle pieces, Inara looked at the chip. 'This feels nice. Kind of exciting.'

'Stealing?'

'Not when you say it like that,' she added quickly.

'Don't get too used to it, 'Nara. I need least one good person on my boat. Bad luck otherwise.'

Mal nodded to the door and they both made their way to exit.

Bang! A noise beyond the door. They both stopped, exchanged knowing looks.

'Zao gao,' Mal breathed, instinctually grasping Inara's hand and leading her back into the room.

Inara reported, 'I heard voices.'

Mal looked around, looked for an escape.

'What do we do?'

'I'm thinking.'

'Care to think faster.'

'I care to but doin's a mite harder than that.'

The voices were audible now, even from the middle of the office. There wasn't much time.

The two guards gently, rather than forcefully, opened the door to Niyita's office. This slow entrance and the consistency of their footsteps before they had entered suggested that they didn't seem to be in a rush, and therefore looking for any intruders.

When they found Mal, on top of Inara who was resting on Chairman Niyita's desk, their calm turned into sudden panic. They definitely hadn't been expecting to be seeing anyone in the office because their shocked reactions were as if they had seen a ghost.

Shining their flashlights right into Inara's face, their guns aimed in her and Mal's direction, they quickly spouted multiple questions at the two in a frightened slur.

'Who are you?' one said.

'What are you doing here?' asked the other.

Mal stopped kissing Inara, unlocked his lips from hers and turned around, arms in the air. 'Whoa, whoa, don't shoot! I have money!'

Behind him, Inara fixed her tussled hair that Mal had dug his fingers into. 'Please, we didn't do anything wrong.'

The two guards gave each other a glance, before holstering their weapons and slowing the shaking of their hands. The tall one took the lead. 'Excuse us,' he said with a puffed out chest and sudden confidence. 'But you're not meant to be in here. This is a private area.'

'Look, I'm so sorry,' Mal said, walking over to the tall guard. 'We were just wandering down the hall and we saw the door open…'

'That's fine, sir. If we could just accompany you back to the party down stairs.'

'Yes. Of course.'

Inara stood up from the desk, strolled over beside Mal. She looked up at him and said, 'Now?'

Mal nodded calmly. 'Now.'

'Now what?' the shorter guard asked, confused.

Without an answer for the short guard, and with no warning for the other, Mal grabbed the tall guard by the shoulder and quickly slammed his head in to the guards own.

'Ow,' he exclaimed recoiling in pain. 'That hurt me more than him.'

The short guard didn't move fast enough, too stunned by what had happened. Before he could reach for his weapon, Inara quickly round house kicked him to the side of the head, her long expensive heels pounding his skull hard. He span around and hit the ground, collapsing in a heap.

The tall guard shook his head clear after the head butt and went for his gun. Mal kicked out with his foot and hit the guards arm away from his holster. He ran in quickly, put a quick jab into the guard's stomach before grabbing his arm as it came in for a punch, twisted it into an unnatural angle. Using the arm, he span the guard around and grabbed his head in a tight lock from behind.

In ten seconds, the tall guard was unconscious, down in a forced slumber, and Mal released his neck to let him sleep it off next to his friend.

'Will he be okay?' Inara asked, concerned about Mal's method.

Mal nodded. 'Yeah. Just knocked him out. He'll be fine in a couple of minutes.'

'I'd hate to think you've done that before.'

'I've sure done a lot worse.'

Inara didn't know what to say. She knew he had, but she never liked to imagine it for herself. The past was better left in the past.

'Are you okay?' he asked, filling the silence.

Inara nodded, smiled. 'Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine. Apart from you destroying my hair.'

Mal laughed. 'Thought I should add some authenticity.'

'I'm still in a bit of shock. Next time your plan is for us to… do that… give me a few days warning.'

'Didn't need that last time,' Mal murmured.

Inara stared at him neutrally.

Mal quickly changed the subject, filling the subject away for later discussion. 'C'mon. We have to go. Won't be long till someone starts wonderin' where theses two've gone.'

He hopped over to the door, holding out his hand for Inara to follow. As she made her way over, there was a fuzzy noise that emitted from one of the guards, an electronic scream. Mal looked over. It was coming from the radio attached to the tall guards belt.

'Orwell… Orwell do you copy?' the voice on the other buzzed. 'Have you sweeped sector 2?'

'Pihua,' Mal breathed. 'If they don't get an answer…'

'They'll send someone looking for him,' Inara finished. 'That didn't take them long.'

'No it certainly didn't.'

'Orwell, respond. Dammit, Orwell's gone dark in sector 2…'

Inara looked at him with concern, asking for answers with her big ovals of soft brown eyes.

'I can't knock everyone out,' he admitted.

'Well we have to go then.'

'What if we get cut off in the hall?'

'We won't.'

'I can't risk it, 'Nara. I can't…'

'You can't risk what?' she interrupted.

Mal looked at her honestly. 'If they find us Inara, I don't know what they will do. The Alliance I mean. I can't let that happen to you.'

Inara was confused. 'What are you talking about, Mal?'

It had worked out that Mal had never gotten around to telling the crew about their status as wanted fugitives. He didn't know why, he was usually honest around those he considered, but never called aloud, family. Maybe it was the guilt that he had put them in the mess, but he, and maybe River for he never knew what she knew with that big brain of hers, were the only ones that knew.

Inara didn't get an answer. Instead, she watched Mal approach the window as her brain made sense of what Mal had said, putting the pieces together. Now wasn't the time to talk about it.

'What are you thinking?' she asked. He had the look of a thinking man on his face, like a plan was being formulated.

'How far do you think the pool is from this building?' She came up beside him, looked through the window at the bioluminescent lake.

'No, Mal,' she said in disbelief. 'No. You can't be serious.'

The faint sound of voices echoed down the hallway. More were coming.

'See, they're all ready on their way. We ain't got much choice, 'Nara.'

'Well I choose against jumping out a second story window.'

'What they'll do to us is a lot worse than a shiny pool.'

She looked back at him, found the truth in his face.

'We can make it,' he assured her. 'We can.'

He pleaded with his eyes for her to do it, and what he had said before, about wanting to keep her safe and out of danger, made her believe that he wouldn't risk her safety if he didn't know it was for the right reasons, even if those reasons weren't clear to her.

She sighed deeply and said rather weakly, 'Okay.'

'Good, we don't have much time.' He brought her over to the window. He opened it, a cool wind breathing onto his face. 'You ready?'

'As I'll ever be.'

'Just remember,' he said opening the window. 'It's not the fall that kills you.'

'I'll never forgive you for this.'

'I don't doubt it.'

Footsteps were audible from the other side of the door. These footsteps were hurried ones. The two of them needed to be out of that room.

Inara jumped first, flying through the air towards the bright blue pool of water, arcing out and down. She pulled her arms into her sides and straightened out her legs as she hit the surface, bracing for the impact that was in no way soft.

As soon as she was under the blanket of water, Mal got ready at the window sill. 'She didn't scream, so you can't,' he told himself. 'Okay… you can do this. Just a little jump.'

It had seemed like a good idea in his head at least.

He forced himself to jump as the door creaked open behind him, his mind and fear of the consequences of staying perched on the window sill overcoming his reluctant limbs.

'Zao gao, zao gao, zao gao!' he exclaimed as he flew as gracefully as a dodo.

The air was cold, but the water was colder. The force of hitting it was like hitting barely malleable concrete. He felt the impact in every inch of his body, like the pain had been transferred up his legs and to his torso by a cruel domino effect. He surfaced from the eerie quiet of the underwater world, gasping for air, struggling to stay afloat as the bones in his calves and thighs felt like they had been crushed into pieces.

'Oh, pihua that's cold!' he observed less than calmly.

Beside him, floating in her long gown, Inara looked at him about as impressed as a cat in a dog kennel. 'I will never forgive you for this,' she repeated.

The water shone with an alien blue tinge, and felt heavy, closer to sludge than water, with bits of algae-like clumps making up for half of the famous lake's volume.

They swam in unison to the shore furthest away from the town hall they had jumped from. There weren't many people in this part of the city at close to midnight.

Mal walked out of the lake as Inara slumped herself down by the edge. 'Hey, you've got a bit of shiny in your hair.' He picked it out, tossed the blue algae aside.

'Thank you,' Inara grunted. 'So what now, captain?'

Mal stood with his hands on his hips. 'Well, I could do with a hot shower.'

They would eventually find Jayne sulking outside the bar and told him they were ready to get off-world. They had had enough of this planet.

In five minutes they would be in the shuttle parked behind the bar and after a steady skyward flight would break atmo and dock Serenity, which was safely floating just outside Liann Jiun's scanners.

When the crew were far away from Liann Jiun, on their way to deliver the package that they stole from Niyita, the party would finish, the guests would leave, and the Chairman himself would go into his room at the end of the long corridor on the second level of the hall. He would almost at once notice the torn out square in his carpet and investigate his hiding spot to find the small sum of money, but more importantly, his envelope, gone.

He could not tell anyone of this strange disappearance, and, while he was frustrated that it had been stolen, he was more thankful that he had not been killed for his knowledge.

Without the evidence though, that knowledge had no foundation, and he wouldn't be much trouble to whoever wanted that information gone from the 'verse.