The metal was clanging, the wheel was shaking, his seat was bustling with energy, and the view outside the front window was obscured by the flames licking at the front side of Serenity as they reentered the atmo. And it was all music to his ears.
"That's it baby, you're doing just fine," Wash absently cooed as he rubbed the control panel in front of him, doing his best not to apply to much pressure and accidentally push a button.
Another moment later, the flames cleared away and all that was left was the bright sun shining over Persephone.
Wash smiled. "That's my good girl."
"Gee, if only you talked to me like that."
Wash's eyes shot wide open at the sound of his wife's voice behind him. Swiveling in his chair, he looked behind him to see Zoe leaning against the doorway with a smug smile on her face, arms crossed over her chest.
"Oh don't you worry," Wash jokingly soothed. "I've got other lines that are sure to serenade you right into my arms."
Zoe bit her lip playfully and made her way to her husband. He wrapped his arms around her waist and guided her so she sat down on his lap. But before they could embrace, the sound of Mal clearing his throat snapped them out of their reverie.
The married couple turned to see Mal standing in the entryway, looking utterly bored with the events in front of him.
"I beg your pardon, Cap'n," Wash started, "but you're kinda ruining the moment here."
"Don't see how that's any concern of mine. Serenity's my ship. So I s'pose that means I can go where I want and when I want without any consent of yours. Also," Mal continued, "when you're reentering atmo, I find it especially helpful to not have any distractions. Don't you agree, Wash?"
Wash and Zoe exchanged annoyed glances before Zoe stood back up on her feet. Wash glanced at Mal one last time before swiveling back to face his controls.
"I missed you too, Cappy."
"Save the quips for after we get paid, Wash. We're runnin' on a clock here."
With a raised eyebrow, Wash gripped the wheel again and turned to his wife, who was now sitting in the copilot's seat, mouthing the words what's his problem to her.
Zoe shrugged. "He's just upset that his 'foolproof' plan backfired."
"It didn't backfire!" Mal objected. "It just, happened to take a different direction than what I was expecting . . . and also having serious negative repercussions on us."
"Hm," Wash hummed silently to himself, stroking his chin in mock concentration. "I haven't had as much experience in the field as you two, but from my perspective, that's the very definition of backfire."
"I don't need your commentary," Mal snapped. "All I need is for you to get us to Badger so we can get paid."
Later,
"What the hell do you mean we ain't getting paid?!" Jayne cried out in outrage.
Mal raised his hand to calm Jayne, but only slightly succeeded. Once he was sure the mountainous man was finished with his tantrum, Mal turned back to the well-dressed man in front of him.
"Sorry, he gets like that sometimes," Mal explained. "I believe what he meant was, um," he cleared his throat, "what the hell do you mean we ain't getting paid?!"
Badger, dressed in his usual black suit and topped with his bowler hat wiped his hands together and stood up from his chair and looked directly into Mal's eyes.
"Well, for starters, you barely got the job done."
"Fei hua. We got in, we got out, just like you asked."
"What I asked, Mister Reynolds," Badger started, walking over to his window, the shutters only letting in a small handful of sunlight, "was that you steal the statue, untouched, and undetected."
"We did!" Mal reasoned. "We got you your toy, didn't we?"
"Puh-lease," Badger scoffed. "The condition you got it to me in, you might as well not have gotten me anything at all."
Slightly offended, Mal reached over the desk and grabbed the statue, holding it out at arms-length in Badger's direction. "What do you mean 'condition'? Look at it! Looks fresh outa the box! Er, wrapping, or wherever it came from!"
Tsking in both amusement and annoyance, Badger walked up and snatched the statue out of Mal's hand, brought it over to his desk where he dug through his drawer and took out a magnifying glass.
Holding them both out for Mal to see, he held the magnifying glass over the torso of the statue, revealing a long, albeit hardly noticeable scratch.
"Damage like this is exactly what drops the price severely in the black market, ya know. I was positive I could sell this at a very handsome price, and give you a twenty-five percent cut. Even a small handful like that would have you set for quite a while. But," he shrugged dismissively, "with damage like this," he said again, gesturing to the small scratch, "I don't see how it's fair to still let you in on this deal."
"And I don't see how it's fair to go back on your own word like that. We got your job done and got what you wanted. Tell 'em, Zoe," Mal said, gesturing to his second-in-command, who was standing calmly in the corner with her arms crossed.
"Well," she started, "you did kinda jeopardize the mission by directly insulting the previous owner of that hideous thing."
"He started it!" Mal reasoned. But before he could go on resuming his rant, Badger cut him off.
"Oh Mal, Mal, Mal," he said teasingly, "you've already forgotten that little talk we had only a few months back, haven't you?"
Mal's eyes narrowed to slits.
"Allow me to reiterate," Badger said, setting the small statue down, "I'm above you. I will always be above you. How was it I put it? Ah yes, roots in the community. I give you a job, and I expect it to get done exactly the way I want it. And if that's too taxing for you and your crew . . ." he trailed off before allowing another large smile smother his face, ". . . then maybe you should seek employment elsewhere."
Then, as if to hammer in the last nail of the coffin, Badger reached into his pocket and pulled out a small coin.
"Here. Take this for your trouble, will you?"
With that, Badger flung the coin out of his hand with a metallic ping and sent it sailing into the open air, only for Mal to snatch it quickly and bury it in his sealed fist.
Badger tipped his hat in the captain's direction. "Ta ta. Try not to let the door kick you in the arse on the way out."
With another flare of the nostrils, Mal turned on his heel and headed for the door.
Before he exited, Mal angrily tossed the small coin behind his shoulder, only for an anxious Jayne to reach up and snatch it out of the air. He lifted it up close to his eye to examine it, bit it, and put it in his pocket.
At the same time,
"My, my, Doctor" Book said with genuine concern as he passed the doctor standing outside his bunk. "Your head looks about as red as those tomatoes that we picked up 'bout a week ago."
Drawing in a deep, calming breath, Simon turned to address the Shepard. "I just don't understand it is all. Why does Mal keep doing business with that guy? Can't he just find some other employer?"
"I am not sure if you've noticed, Doctor, but Mal isn't exactly the most . . . popular man in the 'verse."
Simon snorted in amusement. "There's an understatement."
"So, by the looks of it, it, Mal chooses to stay with Badger because he's one of the only ones who can actually tolerate the man."
"He's afraid."
The sudden, soft, feminine voice made itself present to the two men, causing the two of them to jump in sudden alarm. Looking at the doorway, they found River, who Simon believed was passed out cold on his bed just a moment ago. She was leaning against the doorframe with her usual thousand yard stare in no particular direction. She was dressed in a purple flower dress and her hair was a tangled mess.
"River?" Simon started, but found no other words to follow it up with.
"He's afraid that nobody else likes him. That's why he goes back to him. He wants to be needed. He's like a child, going to wherever and whoever will accept him."
Her eyes wide like a deer, she looked above her at the ceiling, and smiled.
"I'm going to go eat four apples."
Her smile spread as wide as her face, she skipped past the two speechless men and climbed up the ladder.
Both pairs of eyes watched as she disappeared on the upper level. Another silently awkward moment passed between the two men until Shepard shrugged. "She may have a point. It's only natural to stay where you feel needed."
"But why Badger?" Simon asked again. "Why hasn't Mal just went somewhere else for employment?"
Book let out a throaty chuckle. "Well, you're a very gifted doctor who could grow to be very old and very rich. So, why haven't you?"
With nothing left to say, he allowed the doctor to let that sink in as he walked past him, his proud smile still emanating on his face. Before he exited the hallway, he turned back to face Simon.
"And besides, if Mal just went somewhere else for employment and gave up this life of crime, then that just wouldn't be our captain, would it?"
With another chuckle, he stepped through the door and walked away, leaving Simon to his thoughts.
Meanwhile,
TZSZSZ
Niska poked the Taser again, coming into contact on his victim who let out a satisfyingly painful and weakened scream.
The old man closed his eyes, allowing the sound of pain and suffering to resonate in his ears.
He leaned back and looked into the scared man's eyes. "You should know better zhan to try to run away from your problems, Meester Drews."
The man in question was strapped to a dolly with four leather straps. He wore no shirt, which revealed many scars and marks. He leaned his head back in pain, closing his eyes tightly in hopes that the old man will be gone when they open again.
And, he wasn't sure if he was really hearing it or if it was his mind playing tricks on him due to his immense pain, but he swore he could hear vicious snarls and gnashing coming from beneath his feet.
Niska pressed the Taser to his skin again, eliciting another pained scream from the young man until the voice of his assistant came from behind.
"Sir."
On any other day, if he were interrupted during a 'business meeting', he would've cut the man's throat where he stood and have his body heaved out of the waste chute and allow the 'verse to have its way with it.
But today, he was feeling especially generous.
He looked over his shoulder.
"Vhat. Ees. It?"
"Are you sure those three freaks can bring in Reynolds?"
The very mention of Mal's name almost pressured him into slitting the man's throat anyway, but then he was reminded he had insurance on him and couldn't help keep another wicked grin from spreading on his face.
Playing with the Taser in his hands, he turned around, addressing the man.
"I believe zhat anyszing is possible. Especially with ze right motivation." He spread his arms out on both sides to express his point. "And vith ten million units on the line, I believe all of our problems vill . . ." he scampered excitedly over to the wall and pressed a small red button. It was immediately followed with a mechanical whining and whirring noise. He turned and watched as the floor beneath Mr. Drews begin to lower.
"Disappear."
Mr. Drews, now aware of the floor descending beneath him, began stirring and wiggling in place, the leather restraints preventing him from making any drastic movements.
"Hey, wha-what're you, st-stop! No!"
Looking up at Niska with pleading eyes, the young man was met with nothing more than a playful smile from him accompanied by a teasing finger wave.
Over his screams, he could hear the snarling get louder and louder.
Then everything went dark.
Later,
"Untrustworthy . . . down low . . . cowardly . . . deceiving . . . monkey turd . . ."
The incoherent rumblings went on and on, and none of the crew cared.
Almost none of them.
Mal was currently pacing back and forth impatiently on the cargo bay floor, muttering only just audible enough for the small audience above him to hear.
Simon and Book were leaning on the railing, watching with unwavering attention and curiosity.
"Unbelievable. The man's been doing this for almost ten straight minutes," Simon observed, keeping a palm over his mouth.
"Let's keep watching," Book suggested. "He just might break fifteen minutes."
Not far from them, Kaylee and Jayne were also leaning on the railing, watching with rapt attention.
Kaylee gasped. "Whoa! I thought I saw that vein on that big head o' his move," she observed.
"Keep watchin'," Jayne instructed. "Maybe his whole gorram head will blow."
The only one who looked bored with it all was Inara, who was too leaning against the railing, shaking her head in disapproval.
"For God sakes, Mal! This isn't solving anything."
"It's solving my deep hatred for the common folk at the moment, Inara," Mal said simply, not bothering to look up at her or the others.
A moment later, Zoe emerged from the hallway and entered the catwalks, her hands lazily on her hips.
"He still pacing?"
Inara nodded. "Hasn't stopped."
"Well excuse me for trying to vent my frustration in a seemingly calm-like manner, ladies!" Mal snapped, finally looking up at the many pairs of eyes looking down at him. "Now I don't wanna hear another peep outa anyone in this room until we land, ya hear?"
Almost as if on cue, the overhead intercoms whined to life and Wash's static voice was heard.
"Um, Mal, there's something out here you might wanna see."
His voice disappeared.
Mal, still upset but not unwilling to go up to the cockpit, huffed and made his way to the ladder.
He looked up to Zoe. "For your husband's sake, it better be somethin' I actually want to see."
He made his way through the catwalks and into the hallway that lead to the cockpit, Zoe and Jayne close on his tail. He rounded the last turn and saw Wash sitting stock still in his chair, back turned to him and looking mesmerized out the front window.
"Alright, Wash," Mal snapped, stepping into the room. "What is so ruttin' important that you had to-" He froze and looked out the window.
"Shun-sheng duh goa-wan."