Chapter 2

Mal gaped at the officer. He could not have been more surprised if he had been accused of being the Easter bunny.

"Excuse me?"

"Pah! Do not try to deny it," said the officer. He clicked his fingers. A militiaman came forward, bearing a bundle of clothes. He dropped it at the officer's feet and unrolled it. There was a jacket, trousers, hat, cape and mask, all bright red. There was also a sword, in a red scabbard.

"There!" cried the officer, triumphantly.

Mal could only stare. He was aware of the Scarlet Blade: a vigilante hero from the kind of pulp paperbacks read by rich kids in the Core who wanted a sanitised taste of frontier life. That there was such a person had never occurred to Mal, let alone that he had any connection to him or Serenity.

"This is ridiculous," he protested, "Anybody could have planted those!"

The officer sneered. He clicked his fingers again and the militiaman handed him a datapad.

"And who, pray, planted these?" he asked, activating the pad. A series of images appeared on its screen, showing a small cave packed with a variety of objects. They included boxes of medicine, food supplements, bars of gold and other anonymous containers with Alliance markings. One picture, Mal was amazed to see, was of the water pump that had been stolen from him the day before.

"These were discovered in a cave in the northern hills, early this morning," said the officer, "All objects known to have been stolen by the criminal known as the Scarlet Blade. Or, as we should now call him, Malcolm Reynolds."

"What?!" cried Mal.

"Seize him!" snapped the officer. Two militiamen seized Mal and bound his wrists.

"This is ridiculous…!" Shepherd Book began, stepping forward.

"Silence!" shouted the officer, rounding on the rest of the crew, "Do not take me for a fool! We know that the Blade had accomplices. This ship is landlocked, pending further investigation. All crewmembers are confined aboard until further notice, understood?"

Mal saw that Simon had turned his face away from the officer and was trying to convince River to do likewise, but the officer appeared not to recognise them.

"Bring him!" he ordered. The militiamen took Mal by the arms and steered him down the ramp. The other militiamen followed, leaving the crew of Serenity standing dumbfounded in the hold.


Inara strode imperiously across the entrance hall, her face rigid with anger. The guards froze, petrified by her expression. She swept past them and through the doors without so much as a sideways glance.

Governor Quintero was seated behind his desk, a glass of wine halfway to his lips.

"M-my lady?" he stammered.

"Serra. Governor, I demand to know on what grounds you have arrested Captain Malcolm Reynolds."

Inara's trained gaze swept over Governor Quintero. He was a small man, portly, with a grey moustache and the red, blotchy complexion of a man who indulged in too much rich food. A coward, for sure, and one easily intimidated by a show of strength. Using her superb control of her body language and facial expression, Inara contrived to look as regal and dignified as possible. She had dressed to enhance this image: purple and gold, with a high neckline and sweeping cape.

"My-my lady, I must protest –"

"You protest?" Inara scoffed, "You, who have ordered this farce of an arrest?"

"M-my lady, the facts –"

"Facts? You have accused Captain Reynolds of masquerading as a dime novel hero!"

"Ah, I am afraid I must correct you there," said Quintero. He placed his wine glass on the table and settled back into his chair. The corners of his mouth twitched into the merest of smiles.

"Won't you have a seat?" he said, gesturing to a chair.

Inara would have preferred to stand, the better to intimidate Quintero, but there was no way she could refuse without appearing ridiculous.

"Thank you," she said icily.

"You called the Scarlet Blade a dime novel hero," Quintero began, his expression growing smugger by the minute, "That's only a half truth. To prevent a scandal, certain government agencies decided that it would be prudent to… suppress news concerning his activities by giving them the appearance of popular fiction."

"So he is real?"

"After a fashion. As I said, certain government agencies felt that the Blade's activities; stealing government property, attacking government facilities, and the like, would incite other citizens of the Allied Planets to similar crimes. So, the Blade was romanticised as a true Alliance patriot, fighting against corrupt individuals."

"Like yourself, for instance?" said Inara. Quintero bridled at this but Inara soothed him with a smile.

"Names were changed for the stories," Quintero said, uncomfortably, "Even Tiger's Eye; they are set on a fictional planet. It worked too. Most offworlders, like yourself, think the Blade is romantic nonsense. Ha! Half of the peasants on Tiger's Eye think he's only a myth, but he's been plaguing me for years. And now I've finally caught him…"

"Governor, this is ridiculous," said Inara, in a tone suggesting an exasperated mother speaking to a particularly stupid child, "Captain Reynolds is not a crim – I mean, he's not a vigilante."

"My lady Serra, Captain Pasquale found the Blade's costume aboard Captain Reynold's ship…"

"A ship I myself have been living aboard for over a year now. Are you suggesting, governor, that I was party to these criminal activities?" said Inara, sounding as dignified as possible.

"Of course not," said Quintero, becoming flustered, "Wouldn't dream of… Not a respectable Companion, like yourself. But the crew is under suspicion, nevertheless… Accessories and all that…"

"Governor, has it occurred to you that someone could have planted that costume there to frame Captain Reynolds?" Inara asked, voice straining with patient indulgence.

"It has."

"Then why –"

"That still leaves the cache of loot that was reported to us this morning," said Quintero, "All items stolen by the Scarlet Blade."

"Reported? By whom?"

"A concerned citizen," said Quintero with a shrug, "It was an anonymous tip."

"But there is still nothing to link Captain Reynolds to – "

"DNA traces were found in the cave, matching those Captain Pasquale's analysts took from Captain Reynold's own cabin," said Quintero, "And his fingerprints were found on many of the stolen items."

Inara paused, lost for words, while across the desk, Quintero smiled a self-satisfied smile.

"I'm afraid that all sounds awfully convincing, m'dear."

Both Inara and Quintero turned towards the door. Don Andres de la Vega was lounging against the post, splendid in a suit of pale pink and cream.

"Andres, what --?" Inara began.

"M'dear, I was worried for you," said Don Andres languidly, "Running off without so much as a word."

He stood up and advanced into the office. He was a beautiful young man, from his shapely legs to his carefully trimmed moustache, and he knew it.

"Your Excellency," he said, bowing courteously to Quintero, "Pray tell me, what's all this fuss about? It's too deuced hot to go gallivanting around at this time of the day."

"Captain Reynolds has been arrested on trumped up charges. He's been accused of masquerading as a storybook bandit!" said Inara.

"You mean that ruffian the Scarlet Blade?" said Don Andres mildly, "Well, m'dear, I think when his Excellency makes an arrest he's usually pretty sure he's got the right man."

"It's ridiculous!" snapped Inara, "No court in the galaxy would convict him."

"I'm afraid we will never find out," said Quintero, "You see, the federal government is determined to prevent the truth about the Blade spreading: civil unrest and all that. A public trial is just what they don't want. I have orders to try any suspects by court martial, here on Tiger's Eye. Captain Reynolds hangs in three days."

Inara blanched. She felt like someone had kicked her in the stomach.

"No…" she breathed.

"I'm sorry," said Quintero. His expression was sombre but Inara could see a glint of pleasure in his little black eyes. Hot, boiling anger roared inside her.

"No!" she cried, standing up and thumping her hands on the desk, "You can't!"

"Come, m'dear, I think it's time we were going," said Don Andres, laying a hand on her shoulder.

"I am sorry," Quintero repeated.

Inara cast a final, withering look at him before turning on her heel and sweeping out of the office, Don Andres trailing behind her.

"M'dear, please, the heat!" he protested, dabbing at his forehead with a silk handkerchief.

Inara ignored him. She was busy concentrating on slipping the security pass she had palmed from Quintero's desktop into the folds of her dress.


"Maybe they carried it aboard with 'em," Jayne suggested, "Wouldn't be the first time the cops have tried to frame somebody."

"No, it was definitely here before they were," said Wash, "I saw them pull it out of that compartment behind the common area."

"So the costume's definitely a plant," said Zoe, apparently oblivious to the stitches that Simon was threading into her wounded leg.

"The question is; how did they sneak it aboard?" said Book.

There was silence in the infirmary as those who had been left aboard while the pump was being delivered to Bodie considered the past two days.

"When you come to think on it, there were lots o' times when someone could have got aboard," said Kaylee slowly.

"It was hot, so we left the ramp down to let the breeze through," said Book,

"And it wasn't like we kept a special watch or anythin'," Wash added.

"They could have been in and out in minutes; maybe less," Jayne growled accusingly.

"Jayne!" said Zoe sharply, "This is no-one's fault."

"I'm curious as to why someone would want to frame the captain," said Simon, washing his bloody hands in the sink.

"He's got plenty of enemies," said Wash with a shrug.

"On Tiger's Eye?" said Kaylee.

"Kinda enemies the cap'n makes don't tend to be this subtle," said Zoe, "If they wanted him dead, they'd just shoot him."

"Wait, who said anything about the cap'n dying?" cried Kaylee, "He's innocent, right? No way they're gonna kill him."

At that moment, the communication panel beside the infirmary door chirped. Wash crossed over and read the display.

"We've got an incoming transmission," he said, puzzled.

"Who'd wanna call us?" Jayne wondered, as the rest of the crew followed Wash up to the cockpit.

Wash took the pilot's seat and activated Serenity's main communicator. A grainy image of Inara's face appeared on the display.

"Inara?" Wah said, surprised.

"It's alright, I've heard," said Inara, her voice distorted by the transmission, "I've just returned from the governor's house."

The rest of the crew listened with mounting dismay as she relayed what she had learned from Quintero.

"Where are you now?" asked Zoe.

"At Don Andres's mansion, at Agua Fria," replied Inara, "I haven't much time. I've scrambled the signal but they might detect this transmission at any moment. Simon, do you have your datapad?"

"Yes," said Simon, retrieving it from his pocket.

"Plug it in. I'm going to transfer some files I downloaded from the police mainframe, using the governor's security pass."

Simon handed the datapad to Wash. While they waited for the files to transfer, Inara explained what they contained:

"There's a plan of the prison complex where they're holding Mal. It's also where they perform their executions. There's also a plan of Calico, a map of the surrounding country, and a list of all known and suspected black marketers, arms dealers and other criminal tradesmen within a hundred miles of here."

"Thank you," said Zoe.

"I'll do what I can from here," said Inara, "I might be able to find out a little more about who this Scarlet Blade really is."

"Be careful," said Kaylee anxiously.

"You too," said Inara. The image on the display screen vanished.

"It's all very well, her sending us those plans, but we're still stuck on this shee-niou boat," said Jayne grimly.

"He's right, honey," Wash said, turning to Zoe, "We're still landlocked, and there's got to be a dozen guards outside, at least."

"Getting off Serenity is going to be the easy part," Zoe replied.

"Kaylee," she said, "What've you got that explodes?"