A/N 1 ...Please read all the beginning notes and disclaimers at the beginning of chapter one, if you have not already done so, before proceeding.

A/N 2 ... I'm back. Dreadfully sorry about the prolonged hiatus, but as the say, "shit happens," but it looks as if it will be "clear sailing" for the foreseeable future. I made a public statement earlier, back before the first of the year, about my goal of finishing up the first season before year's end. It wasn't long after that that this past unexpected "situation" befell me. So from hear on out, I will refrain from making such statements, must be bad luck. It will just have to suffice to say that I will do my best, as life situations permit.

A/N 3... To get everyone "up to speed," as they say, this is the second chapter of the fourth episode of the first season.(Eighteenth if it were an actual broadcasted episode and the series had continued on after "Objects in Space.")

Previously, Mal and company had attended a black market swap meet, on a space station, that had turned out to be an Alliance "sting operation." The last chapter ended just as this fact had become known. Also, Kaylee had purchased a brand new hover mule (the one they had at the beginning of the movie "Serenity") much to Mal's displeasure, tight wad as he is. It might also be worthy to note, that at the end of my supplemental story "Recompense" (set in the time period between the last episode and the currant one) Jayne gave River a new outfit (The one she had on during her rampage at the Maidenhead) as a "bribe," in hopes that she might stop bugging him all the time. Also Mal was starting to develop suspicions that she might have some rather unsettling abilities, beyond just being a simple mind reader.

Previous to that, they had taken a brief vacation on Kaylee's home world (Eris), after an encounter with and ending the days of Adelai Niska. There (on Eris) they had managed to get involved in a local land war. River with her sometimes rather strange take on things, had gotten into some rather serious mischief, albeit well meaning, tarnishing her image with Mal slightly. They had also managed to sell the Lassiter and between the proceeds of the sale and the pay-off from their previous job (Hero Complex), are now about as financially well off as they have ever been and probably ever will be.

Previous to that, Jayne had pulled a blunder, by letting a woman (Anna) manipulate him into doing her a favor, that in the end put ,the entire crew in a very serious situation. It was never stated but implied, that River, had influenced Mal into letting Jayne stay on the crew and have one more chance. Due to that and a few other things, that it was also implied that she might have done during the episode, while it would be quite a leap to say that he likes her, he has found a bit of respect for and come to accept her.

Previous to that in the first episode Big Stick, Mal had done a favor for an old friend on Haven, by stealing a large anti-aircraft gun from an Alliance facility, so they (the folks on Haven) could defend themselves from slavers and pirates. Book volunteered to take an active and very pivotal role in the operation and it was also learned, at the very beginning of the episode, that Mal and company had been using him for a distraction, albeit unwittingly, while they committed their petty thievery as he gave a sermon. At the end, a battle between Serenity and a fleet of slavers ensued, in which the commander of the slavers swore to find them, to wreak his revenge someday.

Inara continues on with and rationalization for her procrastination of leaving Serenity. Simon continues with his bumbling awkward courtship of Kaylee and is finding it harder and harder to control River, who is gettin older and wanting more independence.


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Perfect Sunset (part two)

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The Carousel rotated lazily, against the backdrop of Elphame's thick, bright yellowish orange and white banded cloud cover, far below. One of the slaver ships, docked by way of a long collapsible "boarding tunnel," had likewise revealed it's self as an Alliance troop transport, in disguise.

As the cursers and patrol boats materialized above and below Elphame's glimmering rings, in a well planed defensive position, blocking most escape vectors, more gunships descended upon the unsuspecting station like a school of hungry sharks.

Inside the "Hub," the absurdly calm mechanical feminine voice kept repeating, if a little too late...

... "Warning, Alliance raid immanent; estimated arrival time, under ten minutes" ...

... accompanied by the blaring claxons.

The "stand down" order, shouted out from the undercover Alliance officers, was universally ignored and naturally had the opposite effect, of what was intended.

Like a call-to-arms, the "warning" spurred the crowd to action. Folks ran in every direction, knocking over vendor's booths, pushing, shoving and grabbing goods (sometimes even their own). In the midst of the chaos, Mal stood, with his jaw agape for a moment, thinking to himself in astonishment...

... "But this wasn't suppose to happen!"...

... Then quickly rushed forward, grabbed Inara by the arm and pulled her toward their new hover-mule, that he had a sudden newfound appreciation for. Indicating to Jayne to get in the back, he helped her into the passenger seat. Jayne attempted to clamber into the rear, but it was filled with piles of parts and various packages. Whipping "Pinky" out, he slashed the lashings and several, if not all of the packages, went tumbling over the sides to the floor, where they were immediately pounced upon, by the frenzied crowd, like so many ducks on June Bugs.

... "Come on, Mal!"... He hollered out, as he knocked the last few packages out of his way and plopped into one of the rear seats.

... "Captain!"... A scared voice desperately cried out. Mal and Jayne turned to see Kaylee a few yards away, looking terrified, being pushed away from them by the uncontrolled mass of humanity, as it looted and stampeded its way toward the exits.

Back on Serenity's bridge, Wash nervously drummed his fingers on the console and looked up at Zoe, shaking his head apprehensively.

... "Don't worry hon, they'll be here."... She replied to his stare, assuring...

... "Yes, of course, they'll be here and we can make another death deifying escape,...with cold dead engines."... he lamented sarcastically.

... "I can help."... A tired weak voice drifted in from behind.

Wash and Zoe glanced back to the bridge entrance and saw River, steadying herself drunkenly against the wall. Simon came up from behind, as if he had been looking for her and exclaimed...

... "Oh River no!...You shouldn't be up here. You need to be resting. You're heavily sedated."...

He took her by the arm, to lead her back to her room and she gently, but firmly, pulled away, while protesting...

... "I'm better now Simon. The teeth have been shown."... and stared imploringly, at Zoe and Wash.

... "Yes, I'm sure you are, but you're still in no condition to..." He started in patronizingly, when Zoe cut him off with...

... "Can she do it Doc?... get the engines prepped and fired up?"...

... "Well, I don't know."... Simon started in hesitantly ...

... "She's never had any formal training in that field, to my knowledge"...

... "Neither has Kaylee."... River pointed out quietly, while Simon continued on, ignoring her remark...

... "But I don't know what they might have taught her at the Academy and she does spend a lot of time with..."

... Well here's the situation Doc."... Zoe interposed, impatiently.

... "My Mister needs to stay on the bridge. I ain't no engineer, neither is the Sheppard and we all know you ain't."...

Simon blushed slightly, as he recalled his experiences with Mr. Frye, back on Eris.

... "The engines are shut down cold and we need them ready to go, soon as Kaylee and the rest get back. We ain't gonna have time later, so if you think she can..."

... "She can."... River interjected pointedly, her irritation of being ignored and talked over in the third person, clearly showing through her drug induced semi-stupor. At the same time Wash interjected...

... "Hey, I have a novel idea; why don't we ask her?"...

They all looked at each other, then Simon started in...

... "I'm not sure if that would be a good..."

Zoe, ignoring him, turned to River and inquired cautiously...

... "River, honey; are you sure you can do this? if you do something wrong in there, we could be stuck here."...

She rolled her eyes up to meet Zoe's face and replied, confidently...

... "I watch Kaylee a lot; you have to trust me. Grandma's at the door."...

Realizing there weren't a lot of options at this juncture, Zoe sighed, turned to Simon and commanded...

... "Doc, I need to try to raise the captain once more. You need to help your sister to engineering, but don't touch anything till I get there."...

Simon finally relented and helped steady River, as she clumsily made her way back to the engine room and Zoe made another attempt to hail Mal, hoping she hadn't made the biggest mistake of her career.


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Mal bolted toward Kaylee, as Jayne hopped off the mule to follow.

... "Kaylee!"... He cried out, as she disappeared from sight; knocked down and trampled by the panicked lemming-like hoard. Some folks were dropping goods, while others would pick them up. They were attempting to escape on mules, often times smashing into each other, like bumper cars and mowing over anyone not quick enough to get out of their way. Some were on horses, spooked by the blaring claxons and occasional gunshot reports echoing through the hub, over the screaming and yelling. To add to the bedlam, many of the slaves had taken the opportunity to try and fight their way free, grabbing whatever they could, to use as improvised weapons, clubbing and slashing whosoever stood in their way.

... "Captain! Jayne!"... Kaylee screamed out hysterically, as her head bobbed up momentarily from the suffocating mass of humanity. As Jayne began punching and shoving his way toward her last known location, a frightened fighting cock flapped in to his face.

... "Gorram chicken!"... He cursed, as he batted it out of his way, to resume his mad rampage through the mob.

Mal's head snapped around as if on a spring release, as he searched desperately for Kaylee, who had disappeared from sight again, while frantically calling out to her. Suddenly his com beeped and while cursing, he held it up and snapped...

... "Ain't got time Zoe! Just be ready for us when we get there!"...


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Standing on the bridge, next to her increasingly agitated husband and looking out the view ports, Zoe noticed that patrol boats were now blocking the outlaw ships trying to escape. Gunships were starting to fire disabling shots at some of those that were still docked. Fortunately, Serenity had escaped notice, but that status would not be long in duration, as another fleet of interceptors was rapidly converging on the scene, from just over and under the ring system.

... "Don't mean to upset you none sir, but sooner would be better than latter."... Zoe calmly but quite pointedly replied back into the com.

... "Yes, I definitely vote for sooner than latter."... Wash nervously muttered to himself.

Mal closed the communication and Zoe grabbed the shipboard com calling out...

... "Doc, River, Don't wait for me. I need to stay here and monitor the situation."... She paused for a moment and added, hesitantly...

... "Just get it done."...


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Mal closed the link and resumed the frantic search for his mechanic, as Jayne was plowing through the crowd, like a raging bull.

Kenny Papadakos suddenly emerged from the crowd pulling a somewhat-battered Kaylee by the hand. In a voice that was surprisingly calm, given the present circumstances, he inquired, almost cheerfully...

... "Lose something, Mal?"...

He pushed Kaylee into Mal's arms and he boosted her up into the hover-mule, behind Inara. Jayne hollered out...

... "Mal!"...

... As he motioned with his gun toward several of the entrances. Alliance soldiers were flooding in and engaging the crowd.

Mal hurriedly hopped up into the driver's seat as Jayne vaulted up into the rear behind him, while staring nervously at the Alliance soldiers. They seemed to be preoccupied and in a pitched battle with their current opponents, but that would only last so long, as they were winning decisively.

... "Mal! Can you fit one more?"... Papadakos beseeched, as he glanced back to the soldiers, rapidly working their way through the mob, them back up to Mal imploringly.

... "Mal! he'll slow us down."... Jayne shouted out, earning a scathing glare from Kaylee.

... "Cap'n!"... She pleaded, while giving Jayne another disapproving look.

Mal looked down at his old associate then over his shoulder to the impending doom, thought for a moment and motioned with his head to get in, much to Kaylee and Ingra's approval and Jayne's vexation.


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As the battle inside the Carousel escalated, the battle outside followed suit. A few of the previously docked ships had managed to elude the Alliance gunships, in the immediate vicinity. One had tried to make a suicidal attempt at escaping through Elphame's rings with predictable results. In a sparkling display, it was dashed to bits, its remaining debris becoming entombed for eternity, as part of the vast debris field that made up Elphame's inner ring.

The other, an armed pirate ship, took the other route; running along the "knife edge" of Elphame's horrendous gravitational field, it exchanged shots with a gunship and cruiser in hot pursuit. A rocket, from the pirate ship, silently detonated in a bright expanding ball of energy, crippling the gunship just enough for Elphame's deadly attraction to take hold, sealing it's fate. The recoil, however, from a shot fired forward at another Alliance ship, approaching from ahead, broke it's forward thrust just enough to fall below escape velocity, for just an instant. An instant was all it took for it's fate to be sealed as well, to be sucked into the inescapable gravitational well, to ultimately be swallowed up and disappear forever, beneath Elphame's angry swirling clouds.

Wash was alone on the bridge, as Zoe was now standing by in the cargo bay, for what she had correctly assumed would be a rather hasty arrival, of the rest of the crew...

... "Any time, Captain; any time now would be good"... He muttered to himself, as he watched, with trepidation, the drama unfolding outside...

... "Simon!"... He shouted into the com...

... "Is River gonna get us powered up, or will we need to get out and push!"...

A look of relief spread across his face, as if in answer to his inquiry, the display on the flight deck suddenly lit up, showing seventy five percent standby power and climbing. His newfound relief was short lived however, as he looked at the side view monitor and gasped in wide eyed shock...

... "Hóu fènbiàn!"...

...Another gunship swooped around from behind the opposite side of the station, it's gun turrets rotating around toward Serenity. The battle had increased in intensity and a number of the Alliance's assault team's comrades had been lost. Wash was sure they were now out for blood and weren't going to take anymore chances with mere "disabling shots," as bad as that would be.

He was about to close his eyes, in anticipation for the worst, when the gunship took a direct hit to the bridge. A small but blinding flash ensued, as it's hull ruptured, sending it spinning out of control, spraying crewmembers out into the dark void, from the breach, in it's wake. A second later another pirate ship, the author of it's demise, soared overhead from the rear.

... "Close one."... Shepherd Book calmly commented, as he entered the bridge and stood over by the copilot's station, gazing out the viewport.

Wash sighed, as he glanced over to him for a second and commented...

... "Think we're out of close ones, Shepherd. Could probably use a miracle or two right about now."...


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... "Down!"... Jayne gruffly barked out to Papadakos, as he placed a heavy hand on his head and with a downward shove emphasize the point, as Alliance troopers fired a few shots in their direction. Mal fired up the mule and started in on a careening zig zaging course, at break neck speed, through the rioting assemblage toward one of the "spokes" of the space station, that lead to the outer rim and docking areas.

An Alliance commander and one of his subordinates, upon noticing Mal and company's attempted escape, "commandeered" an older model rubber tired ground mule and started in on pursuit. While it was in relatively poor condition, due to the extra weight in Mal's vehicle, the were slowly being overhauled by the Alliance troops.

Folks dove out of the way as Mal piloted the mule at full speed through the crowd with the Alliance soldiers in hot pursuit.

... "By the authority of the United Federation of Planets you are hereby ordered to halt and stand down!"... the officer in the passenger seat of the pursuing vehicle yelled out, through a bull horn.

Several bullets whizzed over their heads, in response to Mal's non compliance to the halt order, as they shot into one of the "spokes", a long narrow corridor lined with steam and compressed air pipes, leading to the airlocks out on the outer rim. About a dozen or more troopers on foot had also joined in on the chase behind the pursuing ground mule. With Inara, Kaylee and Kenny Papadakos crouched down as far as possible, several more shots whistled down the narrow dimly lit passageway with an occasional burst of sparks, as they ricocheted off various pipes and electrical conduits.

While crouching down and taking what scant cover that was available, behind a few remaining boxes of parts in the rear, Jayne blindly returned fire on their overtaking pursuers while muttering...

... "Go faster with four"...


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The hallway ended at a juncture with another long curving corridor, the outer rim of the space station. The sound of blaring claxons, distant shouting and gunshots echoed into Serenity's cargo bay, as her ramp dropped open, two airlocks down from the junction. Zoe was standing calmly at the entrance, her weapon at the ready and the red flashing of emergency lighting reflecting off her cold facial features.

Just before the chase reached the junction, the pursuing ground mule had about closed the distance on Mal and company. One of Jayne's wildly dispatched shots, although not intentionally, ruptured one of its tires, sending it careening out of control and ricocheting back and forth between the walls, spilling the two occupants, head over heels, onto the floor.

... "After them!"... Their commander barked out, as he brusquely shook off the over taking foot soldiers, that were attempting to help him back to his feet.

... "Do not let them escape!"... he added sharply, while regaining his footing and indignantly brushing himself off.


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Zoe's eyebrows arched slightly, as she detected the eerie hum of an approaching hover vehicle, a few gunshots, the sound of rapid footfall, shouting and rattling accouterments, emanating out from around a corner, slightly down the curving passageway. Suddenly a bright yellow hover mule whipped around the corner, headed straight toward her. Raising her weapon, she calmly took aim at the rapidly approaching vehicle.

Mal's eyes went wide open in shock, as he shouted out...

... "No Zoe!, wait!... it's us!"...

... when he realized that she was unaware of their new purchase. He gritted his teeth, closed his eyes and ducked, as Zoe's rifle spat out several rounds in rapid succession, the bullets zinging over their heads, as he continued on blindly, full speed ahead.

Their pursuers, although on foot, had not been far behind when Zoe's shots ruptured a high pressure steam line, taking an electrical conduit with it. Searing, blinding clouds of steam boiled out into the passageway behind them, with explosive force. The pursuing troops were now screaming in agony, wildly flaying around in confusion, trying to protect their faces from the scalding steam and blindly dancing around to avoid the downed electrical conduit, that was whipping around like an enraged serpent, spitting and hissing out sparks in the blinding clouds of billowing steam.

Now realizing Zoe's strategy, with a relieved look, Mal glanced back at her "handiwork" and chuckled to himself slightly, while continuing on toward Serenity's open bay at full speed.

... "Gorrammit Mal, slow down!...you'll dent it!"... Jayne protested, when it appeared as if he intended to drive the new mule into the bay at full throttle. Upon arriving at the foot of the ramp, as if in response to Jayne's "request," he slammed on the brakes, as Zoe jumped out of the way. Papadakos nearly flew out of the mule, at the sudden stop, but used the momentum to vault over the side and continue on at a brisk jog, toward a ladder leading to an upper deck, where his own ship was docked...

... "Thanks for the ride, Mal. That's a favor I owe you!"... He cried, out while hurriedly clambering up the ladder and out of sight. Mal just nodded his direction in response, as he cautiously guided the mule up the ramp.

... "In a hurry sir?"... Zoe questioned, with a sight look of amusement, as she came back up the ramp. Before Mal could respond, her face lost that amused look and she added...

... "Cause if ya ain't, I think you should be."...

... as she motioned down the corridor, toward the billowing clouds of steam. The soldiers had managed to find there way out of Zoe's impromptu "Turkish Bath" and had avoided being electrocuted. Having made an end to licking there wounds, they had resumed their former pursuit with new found vigor. Now, not only were they duty bound, but they also had a personal score to settle.

Mal gunned the mule into the bay, barely missing several cargo containers. Zoe sprang over to the control panel and hit the button to close the ramp, just as the troopers opened fire, but it was too little too late. A few rounds made it in and ricocheted around the bay, missing anything of any real importance, but the rest harmlessly plinked into the closing ramp door.

Inara was helping Kaylee, who was still somewhat shaken from the whole ordeal, up from her spot, crouched down in front of the front passenger seat in the new mule. As Mal vaulted out toward the stairs, he hollered out...

... "Kaylee!... need ya in engineering now! we'll be needin' full burn soon as we're clear!"...

... "But Cap'n!"... She protested with a worried look...

... "They's shut down cold!...I'll need 'bout ten minutes to get'um fired up an' 'bout five more 'fore they'll be ready for full power!"...

... "We ain't got ten minutes!... Mal pointed out, emphatically and added while jogging up the stairs...

... "You're the best an' that's what I pay ya for, so just do it."...

... "But Cap'n!"... she beseeched...

... "If we go full burn on cold engines, they'll... they'll"...she faltered with a scared look and summarized...

... "It could get ugly... I can't change the laws of..."

... "Kaylee!"...Mal wheeled around and sharply interposed, causing her to flinch.

... "Case you ain't noticed!"... He started in while motioning to the closed airlock door, from behind which came the muffled sound of gunshots, shouting, yelling and general mayhem...

... "We already ain't got no shortage on ugly 'an 'less you can suss out some way to break a few of them laws, you were so set to take note of, I conjure we'll all be contemplatin' laws for some time to come... Dong-Ma?"...

With that, he turned on his heel and bounded up the stairs toward the bridge, as Zoe came up from behind Kaylee, laid a hand on her shoulder reassuringly and offered...

... "Engines all warmed up... have full burn capability in a few minutes... help Jayne get things secured first, could be in for a rough ride."...

... "But...but who?"... Kaylee stammered, with a perplexed look...

... "It would seem that you're a good teacher, or your little friend is a good student"... Zoe revealed while motioning up toward River, who now had "materialized" up on the upper catwalk. Seemingly oblivious to the impending peril, she was staring up at the ceiling, intently, as if looking straight through it. While she was calm and somewhat collected, she was mumbling something to herself, with a far away look of definite sadness about her. Kaylee glanced up at her, with a mixture of pride and astonishment, while Jayne just shrugged indifferently, as if to say; "Now why don't that surprise me?" and went about securing the new mule.


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Serenity launched, and a few second later, Papadakos's ship, "Poseidon's Trireme," a smaller, more nimble Palomino-class ship, joined them. The majority of Alliance activity seemed to be dedicated to keeping ships trapped at the Carousel, but two of the patrol boats and some of the gunships were pursuing escapees. The Alliance ship, previously disguised as a large slaver ship, also launched at that moment, although apparently somewhat prematurely. Explosive bolts detonated, severing the long collapsible boarding tunnel, that was still in use. With explosive decompression, the hapless souls still in transit were sucked out into the vacuum of space, along with many from inside the Carousel. Free of it's fetters, it headed straight for Serenity, weapons and grapples at the ready, but suddenly froze in its tracks. After a moment or two it inexplicably changed course and fired upon one of it's own troop carriers, rupturing its hull. Several patrol boats swung around to deal with the renegade ship, giving Serenity and Poseidon's Trireme an opportunity to escape.


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A few moments prior...

... "Mr. Eriksson!"... The captain's voice shrieked through the slaver ship's comm, to the first mate...

... "Sever all connections and report to the bridge!"...

... "Yes sir!... final boarding party nearing end of transit. Will be aboard in an estimated four minutes."... The first mate snappily responded.

... "Mr. Eriksson!... I don't believe you heard me correctly. I said sever connection...Now!"... The captain empathized.

The first mate stood for a moment in shocked disbelief, then responded warily...

... "But sir... there's still cargo and crew in transit. They'll be..."

... "Regrettable, but they're expendable. We have more pressing matters at hand. You have your orders, Mr. Eriksson; do not make me repeat them."... The captain coldly warned, as he abruptly closed the link.

Life as a pirate and slaver, this past year or so, had hardened and anesthetized Eriksson, against most feelings of basic human compassion. Still, that didn't make carrying out his orders any easier. Unfortunately, however, the captain's cold logic was impeccable. They were under attack and better to loose a few lowly "grunts" (like he had been, not so long ago) and a few rebellious, troublesome slaves (Like he had also been, prior to that) in order to make good their escape.

If, however, their obsessed captain had listened to his advise in the first place they wouldn't have been in this jamb. Eriksson had been informed that the proprietors of the Carousel had become disenchanted with their Alliance contact's demands for a larger "piece of the action" and had become delinquent in their payoffs. It was only a matter of time before something like this would happen and until things got smoothed over, between the Carousel's operators and the Alliance, keeping clear of the area would have been the best course of action.

The reason for their stop here had been an attempt to auction off a few overly rebellious slaves, that they had been having a difficult time getting rid of. Eriksson had appealed, on their behalf, to the captain, on how these particular individuals, much like he had been, were not "cut out" for slavery and might make well needed additions to the crew, if given the chance. He further reminded him that they still hadn't replaced all the crew that had been lost during the battle at Haven with the Firefly ship, the previous month.

His reasoning fell upon deaf ears, as usual, for every since that most unfortunate encounter over Haven, the captain had been hell bent on seeking revenge upon the crew that had cost them so dearly; to the exclusion of everything else, including sound reasoning. The second and main reason, truth be known, for attending this underworld function, against the first mate's recommendations, was that purely on one of the captain's "hunches." It might be a good place to find the afore mentioned vessel and her crew.

This all was fine, however, for he was simply "biding his time." If, by some miracle, they escaped this latest blunder, the ship and crew would sooner or later be his, one way or the other.

After a quick mental accounting of slaves and crew that had already safely come back aboard, he realized that the slaves he had an eye on for potential crew members had made it back and the ones still in transit were the ones with broken spirits, that were more or less totally worthless. Their guards were new hires and unproven and while he hated his next action, this knowledge made it somewhat more palatable.

With a heavy sigh he hit a control button and much to the horror of those on the other side, the outer airlock door began sliding shut. With a desperate running dive, a slave made it through, but his guard was not so lucky. The door hissed shut on his ankle, crushing it and preventing the door from making an airtight seal. With a howl of pain and a look of terror, he watched as the inner door also shut tight. Then the staccato report of explosive bolts reverberated through the small chamber, jettisoning the boarding tunnel as the air in the chamber hissed out around his crushed ankle. A moment latter the outer door reopened and he was sucked out to join his companions, floating for eternity, as one of Elphame's very minor moons.

Eriksson gazed through the small portal in the inner door as he re-closed the outer door, now that the "obstruction" had been cleared and muttered...

... "Sorry friend...nothin' personal.. just bad luck is all"...

Stuffing what little remorse and guilt he felt, over his cold blooded action, deep down inside himself (after all, he was only following orders), he grabbed the shipboard comm link and reported...

... "First officer Eriksson reporting; boarding connection severed as ordered sir...we're free"...

Closing the link, he sauntered through the lower decks on his way to the bridge, adorned in a sleeveless vest, that looked like a cross between a flack jacket and chain mail, hanging open to reveal his extensive, primitive tribal style tattoos and various body piercings, on his burly chest, hairy bulging arms and face. Although barely twenty years of age Hörður Eriksson was a most intimidating figure. He stood just over six feet and was quite broad shouldered and solid. With long unkempt fire red hair, reaching half way down his back, two polished, gleaming battle axes, his weapons of choice, rattling at his sides and a long bushy beard, the same color as his hair, arranged in braids and decorated with various small body parts from former and more often than not deceased adversaries, crew members scampered to get out of his way.

In his relatively short tenure aboard one of the most infamous slave and pirate ships in the known verse, Hörður had risen, by virtue of his indomitable spirit and will, from a common slave to a hired thug. Not long after, his surprising intellect, uncanny talent for navigation and natural skill at piloting a starship, landed him the position as helmsman and senior pilot. While he could be as cold and cruel as their Nazi like captain, he was somehow different. He had a certain charisma about him and unlike their captain, that they served mostly out of fear, he was know to have an actual sense of fairness about him, or as fair and just that one could be, in this line of work.

He had developed a following among the crew and the captain was all to aware of this. His recent promotion to second in command, many thought, was an attempt on the captain's part to placate "Flame Beard" (the moniker that Eriksson's few surviving enemies had assigned to him), out of fear of his growing favoritism among the crew.

The captain still had an "ace up his sleeve" though. Battle hardened war vets from both sides, that he had taken in shortly after the cessation of hostilities. Soldiers that had lost everything during the war and had been righteously "screwed over" by their respective former allegiances. They were referred to as the "Elite Royal Guard," his personal bodyguards and were frantically loyal.

It was a fitting title, he often mussed to himself, for the likes of the bodyguards of a tin plated overbearing commander, with delusions of godhood.

When it came time for him and his faction to make their move, he had the good sense to realize that it would be no easy task. It would take planning and perfect timing, for as much as their current commander was nearly universally despised, his "Royal Guard" could and would be quite formidable.

While much of the crew had started to look upon him as their "advocate," he also, deep down, had the humility to realize that that was an undeserved title. His previous action had proven that. Those men, slaves or otherwise, didn't deserve the fate that he had dealt them, captains orders or not. He was not fair or just, but he didn't dwell on it. The verse was not a fair or just place, but you made the best of things with the cards you were dealt.

He had been a war orphan on the cold ravaged moon of Beowulf, but instead of dwelling on the "unfairness" of his situation and rolling over to play dead, he had put together a small band of other young renegades. At the age of thirteen he was already leading his own little war clan. For close to a year they burned, looted and pillaged there way from one end of that little moon to the other. It wasn't fair for there victims, he never made any illusions about that, but again, life wasn't fair and the strong would survive, that was just the way of things.

Eventually, the Alliance came in and rounded up all the warring gangs of orphans. A new "do gooder" program had placed him in a foster home on the core world of Osiris. While he never held any grudges against his foster parents, they were basically good folks and meant well, the relationship never took hold. They were quite wealthy and could have done a lot for him, but were of a completely different mindset. They had been sheltered for generations and didn't have a clue as to the true nature of things, he figured. While he was sure they weren't aware of it, brainwashed as they were, the whole relocation program was just another high handed attempt of the Alliance to break his will and spirit, as he saw it.

There was, however, one bright spot in that whole Osiris ordeal. The girl with the funny name.

He didn't even like her at first, for she personified everything he despised in his new life on Osiris. She was of the sheltered "privileged class," but was a persistent one and quite obviously used to getting her own way.

Fascinated by him from nearly their first meeting, at his new school, she shadowed and pestered him unrelentingly, until he had little choice but to start talking to her. In time, he discovered that underneath that spoiled rich Core girl exterior was one of the most remarkable people he had ever met. Unlike the rest of his drone-like, indoctrinated classmates, she was quit outspoken and more than a bit politically incorrect, in her viewpoints of the Alliance's role in the verse and life in general and became quite captivated by her. While not the "whole story," the fact that between her twelfth and thirteenth year, she had already started filling out, to become a rather desirable looking young woman and he was a fifteen year old adolescent on "hormone overdrive," was most likely a contributing factor as well, he figured in retrospect.

Occasionally, for a few fleeting moments, he had actually considered trying to accept a new way of life. Despite the Camberson's (his foster parents) and the girl's best efforts, after expulsion from school and many minor and some not so minor, run-ins' with the law however, this had proved to be an impossibility. During one of his many stays at a juvenile detention center, she had admitted to him, in a very non judgmental manner, that he simply didn't belong on Osiris or any other Core world. She likened his situation to that of a proud young lion that had been taken, against it's will, from it's native habitat and thrust into the middle of a city, then being expected to behave like a domesticated house pet. Then, when it continued to behave and react to situations in the only way it knew how, that came natural to it, like it always had, to have to be put down.

At not quite even fourteen, she had managed to trick the authorities to get in to visit. She claimed to have devised a plan to effect his escape and get him smuggled off to Persephone, from where he could find his way back out to the Rim, where he belonged. On many occasions she had also told him, that after she got older and finished her schooling, one of her many ambitions was to get on a starship to "see the verse" and she would find him again.

As clever and determined that she was, he had no doubt that she might be able to pull it off.

"The great escape" never came to fruition though, for although she was good, she wasn't perfect and had managed to get herself busted in the detention center lobby, with her phony ident card. That was the last he ever saw of her. A few days latter, without any sort of trial, he was suddenly shipped off to a penal colony, half way across the verse. In time, corrupt prison officials sold him and many other inmates into slavery, which is how he ended up aboard the ship that he now served.

For the first time in his life, he had been dealt a winning hand, when he had been adopted by the Camberson's. They were an older childless couple and she was unable to bear him an heir. If he could only have swallowed his pride and submitted to the ridged constrictive norms of Osiris society, he would have eventually inherited their entire estate, which was considerable and as the "frosting on the cake," that amazing young girl, that he had become so fascinated by, not only lived in the same exclusive part of town, but was their next door neighbor. He had cursed himself many times for not playing the cards, fate had dealt him, to their full advantage, but in the final analysis he had to agree with her. It just wasn't his way and life in Core society would never be right for him and most likely be his undoing.

Many times he had wondered what might have become of her. With her family's great wealth and influence he doubted if she received anything more sever than a very light slap on the wrist from the court, at worst and a stern admonishment from her father. People from her cast generally walked, regardless of what they did.

There was not a doubt in his mind that at the time she had said it; that she would come looking for him someday, that she meant it. That, however was a long time ago. She was just barely even a teenager with a lot of rebellious fanciful romantic notions, about the adventurous exciting life, way out on the "wild frontier." By now she was undoubtedly in some fancy exclusive university; with her smarts it wasn't hard to imagine her maybe even being a professor there already, or well on her way into the upper management or ever the board of directors, of some huge multi billion credit corporation, finally total indoctrinated into the idea of the "benefits of true civilization."

She would never come looking for him or have any desire to "see the verse." Why would she, with all she had going for herself? She would probably had "much bigger fish to fry," now a-days.

This was for the best though, for he cringed as to what her opinion would be of him now, if she ever knew what he had become. Still in all, he knew he'd never meet anyone ever again, if he lived to be two hundred, the likes of River Tam and he wished her well.

Putting his musings away, he continued on through the dark steamy lower decks, deep in the bowels of the dungeon ship, as slave tenders hastily secured the pens under their charges. Upon reaching a stark bare iron spiraling stairway, his barbed Reaver style boots clanging on the grating under his feet, he briskly ascended to the "tactical deck," where gunners, outrider crews, grapple operators and boarding personnel, scurried about to their respective battle stations. In passing he gave each man, many former slaves like himself, a quick nod of approval while they returned snappy salutes, some whispering discreetly, so as not to be heard by the ever present Elite Guard...

... "We're with you Mr. Eriksson"...

Flinging back a folding "safety gate," he stepped into an open freight style elevator, yanked on a dangling chain and bells clanged, as it ground and rumbled upward, toward the command deck.


.

.

... "Ah!...Mr. Eriksson!... How kind of you to grace us with you're presence."... The hatchet faced captain derisively greeted the First Mate, as he entered the bridge.

Ignoring his snide "greeting," Eriksson started in on his plan for escape...

... "Sir, with our Alliance colors struck and the present state confusion"... he rumbled out, while gesturing around to the ongoing battle, outside the front viewports...

... "Our true identity is most likely yet unknown. I recommend we proceed along the inside of the inner most ring to these coordinates"...

He stepped over to the nav computer, punched a few keys brining up a display of the planetary ring system and continued...

..."Elphame has a multitude of minor, uncharted and forgotten moons. Here"... he pointed to a spot on the display...

... "Is one in particular that should suit our purposes; where we can escape notice until the Alliance forces conclude their present operation...but I recommend we make haste, less our inaction attracts unwanted suspicion, that is unless our rather...unorthodox... un-docking procedure has not done so already."... he added, while giving the captain a pointed look.

... "Oh no, no, no... Mr. Eriksson"... The captain responded with a slight chuckle, while waving a hand at him dismissively and continued on as if speaking to a small child...

... "You see, this is why you're just a first officer and I'm a Captain. You may be a good hand in a fight, a skilled pilot and navigator, but you have... no.. vision!"... he emphasized while throwing his arms out in front of him...

... "Look out the starboard viewport and tell me if the Firefly transport that just launched, but is trapped in the battle, brings back any memories to that dim mind of your's"...

Hörður glanced out to the battle. A look of recognition came over his tattooed face, as the captain continued on triumphantly...

... "Yes, Mr. Eriksson...it's the same one."... He drew a deep breath and elaborated...

... "While you have been plotting and planning, these last few weeks"...

A slightly uncomfortable look came over Hörður, as his face snapped back to the captain, who commented with a smirk...

... "Don't insult my intelligence and think I don't know of your ambitions"...

Then went back to the subject at hand...

... "I've been doing some research. The ship you see out there is "Serenity"... registered to one Leo Harbatkin, but in actuality owned and operated by a Mr. Malcolm Reynolds. Common smuggler, petty thief... of no real importance, nor are the rest of the crew. Except to me."... he amended malevolently...

... "There is also a registered companion, of some standing, onboard... could bring a fair price on the market, or perhaps a healthy ransom from the guild."... he speculated with a shrug...

... "The real jewel here is not the companion though"... He continued on...

... "The treasure is a pair of federal fugitives, rumored to be among them. A brother and sister. He is, or was, a doctor of extremely high renown; wanted for aiding and abetting and participating in his sister's escape from a federal facility, impersonating a federal officer, assault on a federal officer and destruction of federal property. Twenty thousand is the price on his head...dead or alive... Not too bad of a catch"... He commented with a shrug of indifference...

... "But now we come to the grand prize...and our free ticket out of here... the sister"... He explained, while writhing his hands together...

... "She's wanted on federal escape charges and unspecified federal crimes... political prisoner in other words. Price on her head is"... He paused for a moment with a gleam in his eye, took a deep breath and enunciated slowly...

... "Two-Million... and, not only that, but they are very specific that she be returned... Alive ... Now I'm sure that even you"... He condescendingly addressed his first officer...

... "can figure out that if they want her that bad, they're desperate... for somthing she knows, somthing she can do... makes little difference, but the point is they will do anything to get her back ... We go in, grab her... and if we show our hand, so what? We hail them, put her on the screen and dictate our terms...Safe passage out of here... then we turn the reward into a ransom...sweeten up the pot."... He concluded, while crossing his arms with an avaricious gleam, in his cold beady eyes.

For a moment, Hörður shared the same gleam. This was definitely somthing that warranted further investigation. Then his brow furrowed slightly and his eyes narrowed as he gruffed out...

... "So... two million it is?... but a rumor ya say?"... He cocked his head slightly and questioned, skeptically...

... "All is rumor, until it's substantiated, Mr. Eriksson."... The captain replied tiredly, as he calmly hunched over the Cortex, tapped a few keys and began studying the image that came up ...

... "And if she's not there?"... Eriksson queried further...

As the captain was about to reply, the communications officer abruptly broke in, a definite note of trepidation in his voice...

... "Sir!... we're being hailed!... Alliance command, they want to know our status."...

... "Ignore them Mr. Billings. Perhaps they'll think our comm is down"...The captain calmly replied, never taking his eyes from the Cortex, then appended quietly, mostly to himself...

... "but I doubt it"...

... "Then, Mr. Eriksson." ... He started in, in response to his previous question, while turning away from the cortex and straighten back up...

... "We fight our way out, which I'm sure we'll be doing in either case, but we'll have our revenge, we will"...

He leered out the viewport to Serenity, with a maniacal evil smirk and muttered to himself...

... "So we meet again my friend, as promised"...

He then straightened full up, next to the command seat, clasped his hands behind his back and started barking out orders...

... "Mr. Drexel!... Ahead steady... half speed!...Mr. Baayn!... Weapons and grapple crews at the ready!...target the Firefly! ... Mr. Eriksson!... to the tactical deck!...prepare for boarding!"...

Hörður liked the idea of a little "payback" as much as the next man...perhaps more so and the prospect of a two million, or better, ransom definitely fuelled his lust for battle, but a raid of their own in the middle of an Alliance raid? not to mention that there was no guarantee that their quarry was even onboard?... with every moment spent here seriously decreasing their chances of escape? And if by some chance the captain's latest "hunch" proved true, then what? He gets his cash and would still find a use for the rest of them?... not likely... and he knew all to well the fate of the captain's compatriots that outlived their usefulness, especially now that his, as the captain had put it "ambitions" were known. He must have had a traitor in his midst, he'd deal with that latter...and the Firefly, but for now, surviving this day was foremost on his mind. He would have preferred a little more planning, but it looked as if fate and the captains continued idiocies was about to force his hand. The time for "total commitment" had arrived.

He gave a quick glanced down to Mr. Drexel at the helm, who returned a discreet little nod, then the same to Baayn, the tactical officer. He didn't know where Billings, the new communication officer stood, but they would soon find out. There was the captain, three of his "Elite Guard" and the captain of the guard on deck. They were slightly out numbered, but as the captain had already confronted him, face to face, about the "plot," he doubted they would be anticipating the next move.

... "Mr. Eriksson!"... he exclaimed, irritably, when he noticed that his first mate had not immediately departed to the tactical deck, as ordered.

... Have you gone deaf, as well as inept!"...

Eriksson turned slightly away from him for a second, rolled his eyes and took a deep breath. In the following instant he wheeled back around, his long fiery locks flaying and in a blur, unsheathed an axe, sending it's polished gleaming blade tumbling through the air, to embed it's keen edge deep in the skull of the guard captain. Before his limp lifeless form even hit the deck, momentarily stunned by "Flame Beard's" sudden unleash fury, another guardsman was suddenly and violently jerked back, a thin bare wire garrote, wielded by Mr. Baayn, digging deep into his throat. As the third guardsman bolted for the alarm button, by the bridge entrance, Drexel sprang from the flight deck with his flight jacket, that had been draped over the backrest, wrapped around one arm. Quickly rolling onto the floor and tripping his target, he was on his advisory's back with a small caliber pistol wrapped tight in the jacket, pointed at the back of his skull. All that was heard was a faint little "pop" when it discharged, after which he shot back to his feet and hit another button, sealing off the bridge.

No sooner than the axe left his hand, Hörður grabbed the other one and with a deep throated animalistic roar, propelled his solid two hundred twenty five pound mass, with the agility of a jungle cat, in a single bound, across the room. With the axe raised high over his head in both hands, he deftly brought it down with a bone shattering crunch, onto the shoulder of the fourth and final guardsman, just as he brought his rifle to bear. The weapon clattered to the floor; his right arm and a goodly portion of his torso fell away, as he collapsed like a rag doll and as quick as it had started, the little coup d'état was over.

Drexel and Baayn had their former, commander covered with their side arms, as he spat out, conterminously...

... "You'll never get away with this!... Eriksson...I have friends in high places!... They'll see you and you're whole mutinous crew, drawn and quartered!"...

Kicking bodies out of his way, Hörður went over to the fallen guard captain and retrieved the axe from his head, then calmly came back to confront the ousted commander.

... "Shall we put him in irons sir?"... Baayn inquired as the new commander approached.

... "No"... Was Hörður's only reply, with a casual shake of his head.

... "Never get away with it"... The former commander reiterated with a smirk, as he approached.

Eriksson stood before him for a moment silently, then rolled his eyes with a slight sigh, just before his axe again whooshed through the air in quick arc, decapitating the old captain.

He cocked his head to the side for a moment, curiously, as he gazed down at the headless body. After a moment of contemplation he shrugged and responded nonchalantly...

... "We'll see"...

Unceremoniously kicking the head aside, he went over to Billings, the new communications officer. He was white as new fallen snow, from the sudden unbridled carnage he had just witnessed. Shaking with his hands half raised, he cowered backwards slightly in his seat, as Eriksson, slightly frothing at the mouth, came over and rasped out...

... "And how do you stand?... would you be with us or against us?"...

... "Uh...Ya. sure... I'm with you.. Sir.. uh.. I mean... Captain?... Sir?"... He dithered nervously, as Eriksson just nodded slightly, turned and walked away saying...

... "Wise choice."...

Plopping down in the command seat he opened the shipboard comm and announced...

... "This is first officer Eriksson. Our captain has"...

Glancing down at the headless body for a moment, he paused, then continued...

... "Taken ill, I'll be assuming command until such time."...

Closing the link he turned his attention to the bridge officers...

... "Mr. Drexel set course on my original heading, were getting out of here."...

... "Mr. Billings, full scan and Cortex search on the Firefly vessel. We'll find them latter, but find out all you can before we're out of range"...

Billings piped up suddenly with...

... "Sir... they're hailing us again... this time, with warnings to ident, they're expecting a response"...

They had obviously attracted that unwanted attention, by their inaction, like Hörður had earlier feared and simply "slipping away" like he had original planed, was no longer an option.

... "Very well Mr. Billings." he replied.

... "Mr. Baayn, target the Alliance transport dead ahead, give them our response"... He barked out to his tactical officer.


.

.

While they were still a long way from being, as they say "out of the woods," a feeling of relief poured through Serenity's bridge like a cool fresh morning breeze, as the supposed Alliance "decoy" turned from Serenity and opened fire on it's own compatriots. Wash wiped his brow with the back of his hand and commented, more than a little relieved, but still somewhat mystified at the same time.

... "Well Sheppard, I'm beginning to think I should have you on the bridge more often... thanks for the miracle."...

... "Common practice for pirates and slavers son, operating under a "false flag."... Book commented, while intently studying various read outs on the computer, at the co-pilots station.

... "Well false flag or not, they were sure set on coming after us before their dastardly betrayal. I call that a miracle."... Wash affirmed , while flipping a few overhead switches and guiding Serenity through a temporary lull in the chaos.

Book continued studying the computer screen intently, as Mal interjected...

... "Yes, but we ain't out o' here yet. You two can thank the good fluffy lord when we are, but until then,... Wash, just follow that ship."...

... At that moment "Poseidon's Trireme" sailed past the port side. Upon noticing the rather distinctive lettering on her nose... "ΤριήρηςτουΠοσειδώνα"... Wash exclaimed...

... "Hey isn't that your old buddy Kenny"...

... "Ya, met him inside, comes about here real regular like. Knows all the escape vectors"... Mal replied confidently.

... "Saved his pígu too, owes us a favor."...Jayne commented, as he entered the bridge with Zoe.

While for the time being they had avoided detection, as most ships had turned their attention back to the battle ensuing at the Carousel proper, bits and pieces of wreckage from previous encounters were in an overly abundant supply. The two ships gracefully pitched and rolled through the dark sea of junk and debris and Wash advised...

... "Might want to..." he paused to concentrate on a sudden evasive maneuver, as Mal and Jayne went tumbling (Zoe had had the foresight to take a firm grasp on the back of her husbands seat)...

... "Grab on to somthing"... He concluded, just as a bright red flashing warning light came to life, up on the overhead, accompanied by a harsh buzzing sound.

... "What's that!"... Jayne cried out, wide eyed, in a stressed, slightly higher pitched voice, while attempting to pick himself up off the floor.

A salvo of missiles streaked just overhead from behind, while Wash calmly replied, but, with a look of genuine concern and intense concentration...

... "It means someone don't like us"... as he executed several more abrupt evasive maneuvers, sending the captain and Jayne back onto the floor.


.

.

Simon had just exited the dining area, as Serenity made another abrupt evasive maneuver. Grabbing hold of a handrail, to maintain his footing, he steadied himself for a moment, then continued on down the aft passageway toward the engine room.

He had been frantically searching for River, who had again seemed to have simply "slipped away," from under his watchful eye and vanished as if by sorcery. If he didn't know better he would have sworn that she had been intentionally trying to avoid him. Every place he had been, the answer was general the same... "Oh, I dono doc, she was just here, but couldn'a went far, best go find her though, things could get a mite rough."...

Every since their encounter with Mr. Early, not even quite a month ago, she seemed to have been changing at an ever increasing rate. Many times she would behave not much different than the girl he knew back on Osiris, and he was hoping that she might actually be on the road to recovery. However, she was also becoming increasingly resistant, with every passing day, to his attempts to help her, as if she thought her treatments and medications were no longer necessary.

Every step forward seemed to herald three backwards, as evidenced by her most recent psychotic fit, screaming about her grandmothers teeth and breaking into Jayne's bunk, presumably in search of a weapon. Later she had expertly prepped Serenity's engine, as if she were a trained technician, only to fall back into a near catatonic trance, mumbling about lions and as soon as his eyes were off her, vanished without a trace.

He feared that instead of getting better, despite his best efforts, a new, darker and even more insidious facet of her insanity might be trying to surface. His tests on her were continuing to be inconclusive at best with her system becoming increasingly resistant to the medications, that is if he could even get her to take them in the first place. His ability to keep her under control, as per his original agreement with the captain, was also proving to be less than adequate. The captain and crew was, however, taking it all in stride, even after the incident back on Eris, but how much longer would they be able to?

Even though he had always tried to assure River to the contrary, he knew that from a purely academic standpoint, she was in fact a potential danger to all onboard. What would eventually become of her? She was a female younger than himself, which statically meant she would outlive him. What then?

There was not a doubt in his mine that if they ever could return to a normal civilized place of residence, it would only be a matter of time and a short one at that, before the authorities would insist she be institutionalized.

He had though about the offer of "safe haven" for him and River and a prestigious medical position for himself, on Ithaca, that he had received from that old gentleman onboard Ann's yacht that time. However in light of Anna's true identity and the events that transpired thereafter, he had long dismissed that as even an option.

As much as he yearned for his old life back on Osiris, or similar such world, Bittersweet as it was, their currant status as wanted fugitives, forced to hang out in the most god forsaken corners of the known verse, with a band of common criminals, was probably the best place for them.


.

.

Kaylee was busy, standing amid a mass of tangled wiring, that a near miss from an Alliance missile had shaken loose, splicing together several loose ends. She hadn't noticed, or heard the young doctor enter her "domain" as of yet, over the sound of machinery and crackling wires.

... "Uh.. Kaylee?"... He called out, a bit nervously...

While she had, for the most part, put the incident with Jubal Early behind her, she jumped slightly and turned with a start. Seeing who it was, however, she returned a quick smile and continued with her work, replying cheerfully...

... "Oh, hi Simon...Come to help?... or just talk maybe?"...

... "No... err well, ah ... what I meant was, it's not that I don't want to talk,"... he quickly and awkwardly amended...

... "But I was just wondering...Have you seen River?"...

She sighed in frustration, as her smile fell slightly and replied...

... "No Simon, but she was..."

... "Yes, I know."...he cut her off and supplied tersely...

... "She was just here and couldn't have gone far"...

Before Kaylee could respond to his curt remark, the engine room resounded with the sound of a several rather large pieces of debris ricocheting off the hull. Simon was starting to wonder, rather or not, if his previous concern for River's long term well being wasn't just academic, as it was starting to appear as if they would all soon be just some more bits of "Space Junk" floating around in the black anyway; all because their "leader" had thought it a good idea to try and save a few coppers, at a notorious black market event, when they presently had more coin in reserve than Mal, or any of his crew had probably ever seen in their collective lifetimes.

They both flinched, as they glanced up to the ceiling, then Kaylee, putting away her little flash of anger over Simon's sarcastic response, replied reassuringly, while resuming her repairs...

... "Aw, don't worry none Simon. She ain't left the ship, so she's safe here with the rest of us. She'll be all shiny-like. Ya outta' give her some credit...she's gettin' to be a big girl ya know?"...

... "Oh yes, of course! how could I possibly forget!"...Simon came back satirically...

... "She's perfectly safe here on an outlaw ship, with half the Alliance forces in this sector shooting at us, because our great wúnéng de yúchun captain though it wise to go on a shopping spree, at a underworld gathering that everyone knows about."...

Simon's "remark" concerning the captain was all Kaylee could take. Dropping her tools she jammed her fists into her hips and shot back...

... "Simon!... You ain't got no call, talk 'bout the cap'n like that!... He always looks after us! You an' River too. Sometimes things just get... well... complicated is all."... She justified meekly, while glancing down to the floor for a moment. Then snapped back to her former uncharacteristic fury...

... "Where would you two be, if he done went left ya back at Whitefall, or Jiangyin... remember that?"...

Simon remembered Jiangyin, all to well and started backpedaling contritely...

... "Well, uh... I didn't mean to make it sound like I don't ... err, well... rather what I was actually trying to say..."

... "No, you said 'xactly what ya think"... she interposed in a huff.

... "I don't know why I think you're ever gonna change. Ya ain't no different 'an Jayne. Underneath all them big fancy words, you're just plain mean is all"...

Simon was crestfallen to have been compared, to all people Jayne, but he got good look at Kaylee, as she continued, aloofly, repairing and splicing wires, the little electrical sparkles reflecting in her sad looking eyes. He noticed for the first time since her return, the burses and scratches on her face, that she had received while being trampled earlier. His little self righteous tizzy evaporated, as he reached out to her with genuine concern.

... "You're hurt" ... he stated, but without his normal clinical doctor patient, detachment.

... "Ahh, it ain't nothin'. Just got a mite tight in the Carousel."... She responded, a slight smile coming back to betray her indifferent looking face. She had been quite put out, with his pompous superior attitude, but found it even harder to stay that way with him, especially when he was trying to act like an actual human being.

... "Still, I..." Simon began, when all of a sudden, the ship's floor canted abruptly, at a forty-five degree angle. Tools, small parts and whatever wasn't tied down went flying. Simon and Kaylee landed tangled up together in a heap and after they regained their orientation, Simon noticed the rather compromising position they were in. In a start, he scrambled back to his feet, apologizing...

... "Oh! I'm sorry! That was an accident...I mean...well you know, I would never try somthing like that... I mean well, you know what I mean."... He went on awkwardly searching for words, with his face turning a bright shade of red.

... "Yes, I know Simon."...she sighed, while picking her self up.

They stared at each other for a moment then Simon, while nervously running his fingers through his hair and glancing around fitfully, quavered...

... "Uh, well, I guess maybe I should find River."...

... "Oh ya!...I reckon she's powerful worried 'bout ya." ... Kaylee piped up while swinging her arms together, trying her best to not look disappointed.

He disappeared down the hallway and down the stairs to the commons, while she went back to work with a look of frustration.


.

.

She liked the stars, always had. They had an aura of permanence and stability. Someday she would go to them, she had always said and now she had, but that was actually untrue. Far beyond the twelve stars and protostars, in the immediate stellar neighborhood, that all so erroneously referred to as "The Verse," lay the great beyond, beyond the so called "edge of space."

She knew she would never go there and never could, for if she could live long enough to make the journey, if her physical form could travel at that un-transgressable cosmic speed limit, of one hundred eighty six thousand miles per second, if the laws of space/time dilation arrested and halted the deterioration of her flesh and bone, would those far distant stars be there when she arrived? Were they even there now?...

She knew that what she perceived was not what is, but rather what was, in many cases eons before her earliest progenitors emerged from their caves, on some lonely long forgotten primordial plain, back on Earth That Was. Then again, if that great quantum leap could be made, would she might also become what was instead of what is? Would all she perceived, take substance and be what is, in the here and now? Was perhaps solid matter defined by those who perceived it? If that was the case, then there was no stability, no beginning or end. The natural order of things was chaos; from order to disorder, the natural end result of the unrelenting effects of entropy, the curse of Cain.

There always was an alpha and omega though, a beginning and end to all things, at least that's how it was perceived to be, by most. Mathematics, the supposed quantifying and defining science of what's solid or not, was in it's self flawed. 3.141592653589793... etc. carried out to infinity with no repetitions or final solution; the mathematical constant used in all basic calculations to define the area, volume, mass and very existence of a sphere, the most common solid or gaseous object in space and even the basic nature of space it's self, was flawed and imperfect, making all conclusions derived thereby fallacious. Not as they seemed

All objects, rather they be animal or human, a twig of wood or a loaded gun, all consisting of the same material; ninety nine point nine percent empty space and point one percent tiny little whirling bits and pieces of stardust, playing hide and seek, blinking in and out of existence, held together by negative and positive electrical charges, the same charges that gave birth to thoughts, that bounced around the cosmos for eternity, forever weakening but never disappearing altogether.

Reality was even more confusing and contradictory than fantasy and illusion. Her genius had always been her curse, always seeking answers to the unanswerable; trying to make sense out of what made no sense, hopelessly addicted to the quest of finding that elusive little tidbit of knowledge, that might bring it all into focus, only to be disappointed and bored, by the same old worn out false conclusions based on flawed assumptions.

Long before her insatiable thirst for knowledge lured her to that...place, life was not easy. While she never actually felt loneliness or alienation (always too busy involved with some scholastic or athletic pursuit, to be concerned about a social life), she had always felt like the proverbial "square peg in a round hole;" as her "rubber stamp" peers were about as interesting to her as the text books that bored her silly, with the exception of one. Being popular and having a lot of friends was never much of a priority, besides, she always had Simon.

Simon, her beloved brother. A prodigious genius in his own right, had been much like her in being devoid of any real social skills, except for the proper etiquette for Core society functions, that he learned by rote, to further his career and please their well meaning but social climbing parents.

Unlike her, however, he found comfort and security within the constrictive confines of old, well established and accepted knowledge, of which he was a master, never questioning his professors in medical school, or superiors during his short internship. Without his stabilizing influence in her life, her overpowered intellect, always racing out of control, without any sort of mental challenge to act as a dampening effect, would have driver her totally mad, long before her "dark years."

Now however, things had changed. She had friends, as Simon had pointed out before, lots of them. What's more, she welcomed it, yearned for it.

There was Simon, of course, first and foremost, but despite his increasing tendency to be an irritant in her life, with his pointy needles, probing and false conclusions, transcended the definition of the word "friend," or even brother. He was an intricate part of her very existence. She owed him more than she could ever hope to repay and didn't even want to think about what she would do, if anything ever happed to him.

Next was Kaylee, her first and probably closest friend, here on Serenity. She really didn't understand why she should have that status; she surely didn't deserve it. A slight frown came to her as she reflected on it. Silly cowardly little Kaylee, betrayed her twice and under the right circumstances would probably do it again, but she was also her staunchest advocate, as long as someone wasn't intimidating her to do otherwise, and she also brought a ray of sunshine into Simon's miserable new life. That had to be the reason. Anyone who made her brother happy could do no wrong, in River's eyes. Plus, despite her failings, she did enjoy her company

Kaylee relived, vicariously, through River, a life of child-like innocence, that she had so shamefully thrown away at such an early age. River knew that Kaylee's and most other crew members picture of her own "innocence" was somewhat overrated, but put it all together and it made the relationship work. It made her feel needed and she liked that.

There was that old preacher man, like the kindly old grandfather she never knew. She was to him, the granddaughter he never had. He drew his strength from that silly illogical book of myths, that she had read many times and still didn't understand, but enjoyed her company, as she was also a mission to him, to atone for past sins. She felt warm and secure around him, now that he had finally rearranged his hair, so that it was adequately subdued.

The captain, the unofficial but universally recognized patriarch, head of household, that everyone mocked to his face but respected behind his back.

He looked at her and saw the past, that he dwelled in, a ghost and was terrified of history repeating it's self, but she filled a small gap in his lonely inner void, provided a measure of solace to his tortured soul; a second chance.

She could see the thoughts of others; she had realized that now for some time and his mind was a tumultuous dark storm, of conflicting nightmarish ebbs and flows, not all that much different than her own. She hated going there and hated even more when he was cross with her, because it meant she had disappointed him in some way. Deep down, he, more than anyone, had come to believe in her, wanted to be proud of her. He had plans for her and she didn't want to let him down.

And then there was Jayne. A brief ghost of a smile came to her when she thought of him, like herself, not fully accepted or trusted. Crude and simple minded but far from stupid, like her brother maintained, he chose to plow through life in the bliss of willful ignorance, sating the most basic human needs and desires. He was probably the most stable minded member of the crew. He was also an enigma.

Like Kaylee, he had betrayed not only her, but also her brother once and for selfish personal gain at that.

Endangering her brother; normally that would have been unpardonable, but in retrospect there were other factors involved in his decision and he had reversed his decision, out of genuine guilt, before she had even realized what he was up to. He had been trying to undo the mess, he had created and help them escape, long before they were caught and even longer before the captain almost flushed him out the airlock over it.

Unlike Kaylee, she was certain he would never try somthing like that ever again.

His mind was like a loud open book, mostly simple illustrations with a few captions, in bold print, but there was more. There was a place somewhere in there, buried deep in the sands of time, that he was surprisingly good at keeping closed up tight. He was actually quite interesting and a real challenge. Not only that, but when he looked at her, although he'd never admit it, beside visions of butcher knives and that "crazy girl," he also saw something else.

She wasn't sure what she might be forced to do, or if she even could do anything, unless there was a gun handy, if he ever acted on it, but he also saw an actual young women, with all the thoughts that normal came to his self gratifying mind, concerning that subject. She wasn't just a little girl anymore, like Simon liked to think of her, she was almost eighteen and found it somewhat complementary that someone recognized that, plus he was fun to tease.

They were all her friends, even Jayne, at least as far as she was concerned, but they all shared a common trait. They all had their ghosts and she was no different, but hers was very close now.

She had first sensed it while prepping Serenity's engines, a cloudy image through the matrix of time. It had taken form and substance, as Simon's drugs had worn off. She had fled to this place among the stars, where she could best focus, where the confusing static from the ghosts of others was diminished, to be certain. Now, in crystal clarity, it took form and substance. The reunion would not be as she had once, so long ago, imagined.

With the faint ghostly glow of ambient starlight, wafting in through the view port of shuttle number two, subtly defining her gloomy facial features, a flash of light, from a missile burst, reflecting in her glassy, pained eyes, like a flash of lightning on a stormy summer night, she settled back in the pilot's set, as a single tear rolled down a cheek.


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Serenity's bridge was suddenly flooded, by a blinding white light, as the crew instinctively threw arms up over their faces. Wash unable to react in time and half blinded by the flash, piloted the ship straight on through, the rapidly blossoming burst of plasma and energy, dead ahead. Mal gawked out the window in shock, the ship bucking and pitching from the sudden massive energy pulse, with red to white hot shards of metal flying past and bouncing of the hull.

Upon exiting the "fireball" on the opposite side, "Poseidon's Trireme," Kenny Papadakos's ship, was nowhere to be seen.

... "Was that?..." Wash, still in stunned shock, uttered apprehensively.

... "It would appear."... Mal confirmed hoarsely, his jaw still agape and staring straight ahead into the now empty blackness.

... "Well there goes that favor."... Jayne groused, with a grimace of disgust.

Sheppard Book, unfazed by the incident, was still tightly strapped into the copilot's station working at the nav computer.


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Commander Chien, early forties, with intense eyes and patrician features, stood at the forward window of the bridge, watching Serenity trying to escape.

... "Sir, sensor locks appear to have been damaged by debris from the Palomino-class vessel."... A junior officer announced...

... "Target manually"... was Chein's immediate response, without taking his eyes from their quarry.

... "Yes sir."... Was the former's snappy reply...

Chien continued watching, with stone faced determination, as another series of missiles streaked out before them. Serenity rolled pitched and dodged, as the lethal projectiles sailed harmlessly by.

... "He's good, this one."... Chien muttered to himself, then called out to his tactical officer, in a cool, well disciplined and methodical air.

... "Lieutenant Xian, reload all missile pods. Pods two three and four, EMP armed, proximity detonation. Pods five and six, full nuclear."...

Just then, Lieutenant Wallace, his communications officer cut in...

... "Sir, Captain Pennington has requested immediate assistance. They are encountering unexpected and heavy resistance from one of the slave ships and are sustaining heavy casualties."...

... "Thank you, Lieutenant."... Chien replied. He continued gazing out the front viewport for a second, let out a little sigh of frustration, the turned to the helmsman...

... "Lieutenant Masters, reverse course... let them go."...

He turned back to the viewport, one more time and wistfully watched, as Serenity slipped away into the black.


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... "How come we ain't dead?"... Jayne submitted with astonishment, while picking himself up from the floor, after the rain of missile fire had mysteriously ceased.

... "Love to say it was me, but they just... stopped."... Wash admitted, with a baffled shrug of his shoulders.

... "Don't s'much care as to the why, as to the continued truth o' that fact."... Mal interjected...

... "Good flyin', Wash."... He complemented with a pat on the back, then ordered...

... "Now get us to the edge o' the system, go for hard burn. Wana be as far away from here as..."

... "That wise, Captain?"... Book, still studying the nav computer, interposed.

... "You got somethin' to say, Preacher?"... Mal queried, while returning a scrutinizing glance and crossing his arms.

Book finally looked up and explained...

... "If they're following standard Alliance procedure, there are probably additional patrol boats stationed as sentries, along the most obvious exit vectors. It's my understanding, part of the reason that this planet was chosen, as home for the Carousel, is because of the number of moons, that may be of use as hiding places."...

... "Elphame is a class four gas giant and has four well known, populated moons, of which we are all familiar. It also has thirty two smaller and lesser known moons, that have never even been officially named. They are known only by numeric designation and range in size from a large asteroid to a small dwarf planet. Also, there may be an additional, up to a hundred some believe, 'minor moons,' many of which may not even exist, on even the most sophisticated star charts."...

Mal, Zoe and Jayne exchanged curious glances and then back to Book. It never ceased to amaze them, as to the rather "our of character" knowledge their resident "holy man" seemed to posses at times.

... "Keep talkin" ... Mal smartly directed, with mounting interest.

... "Could be we might benefit from, as you might say, 'laying low' on one of those moons for a few days?"...

... "Got any suggestions?"... Mal returned, a note of skepticism creeping into his voice.

Book smiled and turned the computer screen toward Mal. Pointing to an small bluish green point of light and an irregularity at the inner edge of Elphame's inner ring; he went on...

... "There's not much to see at this distance, but it could be that we might just find somthing that could suit our present needs, if we head for these coordinates?"...

Mal ruminated on the Sheppard's suggestion for a moment, then turned and looked down to Wash, while lazily throwing an arm out toward the screen.

Jayne scratched his head, while giving Book a perplexed and somewhat suspicious look, as Wash set course for their new destination.

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