18 months after the BDM, the crew of Serenity picks up a new stray with a hidden past. OC is mine, rest are Joss's. M/R, Inara/OC, Z/W, S/K - Please R/R! slightly AU - Wash survived.
He ignored the graze from the bullet on his arm as he pelted through the alleys of Eavesdown. Night was falling as he scurried behind merchant stands and cargo containers, searching for a ship that looked ready to take off. Somewhere behind him, he heard the staccato steps of the agents that followed him; they sounded entirely in rhythm, like two beats of the same drum. He turned suddenly several times, turning blindly into alleys; unfortunately, turning into a dead-end with no doors. "Gorramnit, Yu Bun Duh!" he grated, breathing heavily.
The agents walked slowly up the alley, in lockstep. "Jamison Monroe, we need to speak with you."
He cursed again, angry at leaving his dwelling without his gorram gun today. He'd already tried his hand at fighting them, and had a painfully dislocated shoulder to show for it. One blue-gloved hand reached into a coat pocket, pulling out a silver cylindrical object; he pressed a button, and blue arms slid to the side.
The other blue hand spoke, his voice eerily like that of his partner. "There is no need to fight us; we already have all we need from you." The silver object began to emit a high-pitched tone, and Jamison Monroe dropped to his knees, screaming as waves of intense pain washed over him. He seemed to see from outside his body as blood began to drip from his sinuses and ears, could feel himself dying. Over the shoulders of the blue hands he saw someone turn the corner; Gorramit, feds!
The 5 foot tall girl with flowing brown hair didn't seem to be a fed though; with a brisk challenge in Mandarin, the blue hands turned their heads abruptly as two precisely-aimed shots rang out from the chrome-plated automatic in her hand. From behind, as his vision darkened, Jamison watched in surprise as the backs of the blue hand's heads exploded outward in a spray of gray matter and blood. The silver device fell to the ground out of a now-limp blue hand, and cracked on the ground, the sound dying out.
As his vision tunneled and darkened, he saw several more people approaching. Then he blacked out, and saw no more.
The first thing he heard was low voices; maybe he would see his family again?
"-looks like he's beginning to come around."
"Maybehaps he'll be able to tell us a thing're two about why he had two of those Wong Ba Duhn's pointin' their little piece of Luh Suh at him?"
"Captain, I'm not sure he'll remember; I don't have any idea of what effects that device has, when it doesn't kill the target."
Jamie' lips were cracked and sore; he must have gotten dehydrated by the injuries. "I surely do remember." As he opened his eyes slowly, painfully, feeling the hot bite of the bullet graze, the slow burn of the dislocated shoulder, and the bone-deep body ache the surgical lights overhead stung him. He saw two men standing nearby, approaching to speaking distance.
The two men were about equal in height; one had darker brown hair and a smooth, young face, and wore fine clothing under a surgical apron. The other had lighter brown hair, and had a face that was worn by care and time, not old but no longer young. He wore a long brown duster, cut of rough leather, with patches and seams visible. Underneath he wore all tans and browns; Jamie' logical mind immediately pinned him down as a former Independent.
"Hey there. Thought you were almost gone." The face was openly friendly, but Jamie could see the tension and mistrust underneath, almost as though it were written on.
"..Guess I'm not. S'pose I have you to thank."
"I'm Mal Reynolds. You're onboard my ship, but we can talk about that later. Right now, the Doc tells me you need a rest."
"Sounds like a decent notion, Cap'n."
"I'll give you something to help you sleep." said the soft-voiced doctor, setting a hypodermic and putting it to his arm.
Before he faded out again, he heard the captain pull the doctor aside and say in a low voice "I'll send 'Tross down later to listen in for a while; see that he doesn't go anywhere." The doctor nodded, a bit of a shadow crossing his face, and turned back to his diagnostic instruments as the brown-coated captain swept out of the room.
Darkness took over again.