PRODIGAL SON Chapter Twenty-Four

Please take note that the author does not get any money for this labor, and that no copyright infringement is in any way intended. Long live Firefly! This has not been betaed. Beat-ed? No one has checked this for errors except me.

FIREFLY

The crew were gathered around the cargo bay in early evening. Potential sale of their first dealership of RIT hovercraft notwithstanding, the day had not gone well.

"There's no sign of him, anywhere," Mal admitted with a sigh. "River, you got any ideas?"

"No, Baba," she shook her head sadly. "There is nothing."

"Short of takin' an ad in the local paper, I'm outta ideas," Mal's frustration was starting to show. "I got nothin'."

"We just have to keep looking," Goldie shrugged. "We know he's here."

"Do we?" Zoe asked suddenly. "I mean, do we know for a fact that he ever set foot on this place? I'm just sayin'," she added when the others looked her way.

"Gig said this was where he was headed," Wart chimed in. "He arranged the transport."

"Reckon he'd lie 'bout that?" Mal asked.

"He wouldn't dare," was all Blade would say, but both Wart and Goldie nodded their agreement.

"So like as not he's here, somewhere," said Mal. "Which leaves us back where we started. Which is where in the hell is Jayne?"

"I may can assist you with that," a new voice said from the lowered ramp. A dozen guns were trained on the stranger before he'd finished speaking. Strangely, he showed no alarm, merely raised his empty hands slowly.

"And who might you be?" Mal asked.

"My name is Joseph Many-Horses, Ironhorse," he added the last after a hesitation, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"Ironhorse, huh?" Mal grunted as a stir ran through the assembled crew. "Convenient."

"A new development," the man nodded. "You are looking for Blood Knife, yes?"

"Yes," River nodded, her head cocked at an odd angle. "You have seen him." It was a statement, not a question.

"Oh, yes," Joseph nodded. "And so has everyone else. You are his friends, no? His family, he said."

"He said?" Mal frowned.

"Yes. We saw you today, on the ro-"

"He was driving that truck we met!" Wart exclaimed suddenly.

"Indeed," Joseph nodded. "And he was with me at the time. He did not wish you to know he was there. He did not expect to see you here."

"Where is he now?" Mal demanded.

"He is beyond your reach at the moment," Joseph replied calmly. "Tomorrow he will face a chosen member of Dos Osos in battle. That battle will determine the future of our lands and our clan. It will also determine the fate of Flint and his daughter."

"Maybe you better put him within our reach," Mal said flatly.

"That is beyond my ability to do," Joseph shrugged. "He is sequestered with a shaman. He will not emerge until sunrise, at which point he will fight. There is no way to prevent that, now. And he would not allow you to, in any case."

"He doesn't know you're here, does he?" River asked suddenly.

"He does not," Joseph nodded to her. "Very perceptive, little one."

"Why are you here, then?" Mal asked, working to sound amiable. Ish.

"I do not trust George Flint to. . . 'play fair', I think is the phrase you would use," Joseph replied. "I cannot help him. It would violate the law, shame him, and forfeit the battle regardless of the outcome."

"But we can," Zoe looked thoughtful, eyes bright. "That's why you're here."

"You are his familia," Joseph nodded. "Family. His own words, not mine. You have traveled far to try and save him. I assure you he does not need saving from the battle he sees. It is the battle he does not that needs your attention."

"What battle is that, exactly?" Goldie asked flatly. Joseph looked at him closely for a moment.

"I see much of you in him," he said suddenly. "You have known him long, have you not?"

"I have," Goldie nodded. "What battle?" he repeated, not willing to be thrown off track.

"He will face one of the men who attacked you before," he told River. "The leader of the team that tried to kill you, or rather tried to kill your daughter thinking she was you. Despite their abject failure, he is an excellent warrior. And he will be driven to redeem himself." He paused, then smiled slightly.

"I also believe that George has offered him Annassa's hand in marriage if he is successful. He is a fool if her believes Flint will actually honor that agreement. Or that Annassa will not knife him in the ribs to avoid such."

"We're all in agreement she's a rattler," Mal nodded.

"She is worse than that," Joseph assured them. "Annassa Flint is extremely intelligent and she has learned at the feet of her father how to plan and plot. She is also an accomplished warrior. Do not allow her polish to fool you. Beneath that veneer is she is, as you said, a snake waiting to strike."

"Ironhorse learned that I, too, am descended from the Ironhorse clan, and has asked me to assume the clan seat on the Council, effectively making me chief of De Muertos. This means that I am no longer directly privy to Flint's schemes. I do, however, have people who remain loyal to the old ways inside his operatives. A short time ago I received a message, sent at great risk, from one of those people. Flint will not risk Blood Knife being victorious in this match. He plans to employ an assassin to watch the fight, and strike if it appears he is winning."

"At the same time, he will send someone against me, seeking to exact vengeance for my 'betrayal'. And while that is happening, I fully expect Annassa Flint to make a move of her own, though I do not know what that might be," he admitted. "She is very close with her own plans, while open with her father's."

"So tell us about this fight." Mal said. "And how many assassins Flint plans on using."

"There is a field maintained by the Council of Chieftains where arguments such as this are settled. Disputes that are handled on the Field of Trials cannot devolve into a Blood Feud over the outcome. The decision, whatever it is, is final and binding for all time upon both parties."

"There will be four riflemen," Joseph pulled a sketch from his pocket. "At the compass points. They are forbidden to fire unless and until it appears that Ironhorse will triumph. If that happens, they will shoot."

"Won't that make the decision go Jayne's way anyhow?" Mal asked.

"These men are in no way connected to Dos Osos, and Blood Knife has many enemies, even among the Clans. It will appear as if some unknown enemy has taken advantage of the situation to eliminate him. Flint will win by default."

"Well that ain't right," Goldie mentioned.

"It is Law," Joseph shrugged. "You must find and eliminate these men. They cannot be allowed to kill Ironhorse. His presence has drawn the remainder of the Ironhorse and De Muertos clan from other places, other clans they have married into, and out into the open. Should he fall, then the last remaining blood of a once proud clan will be nameless, homeless, and may face death at the hands of others. It cannot be allowed."

"You know, this is a messed up system of governing you got here," Zoe said casually.

"It was not always so," Joseph said, almost apologetically. "Once there were men of honor who occupied these lands, and the seats of power. Too many of them are gone, and too few like them have arisen to take their place. The old ways are scoffed at by too many."

"Well, we don't got to be interested in any ways in order to help Jayne out," Mal said firmly. "We'll just head over there and-"

"No," Goldie shook his head and Mal frowned at him.

"We'll take the assassins, but the kid has to fight his own battles, like the old guy said. No offense," he added to Joseph.

"None taken."

"Me, Wart, Liam and Blade will find the shooters and eliminate them," Goldie said. "We take them out of play and the field is fair again. We do more than that, Jayne may lose everything he's trying to save."

"I do not intend to allow Annassa Flint to live," River said flatly and the others looked at her. "I warned her, fairly and openly, to stop pursuing that which was mine." Her eyes were cold as she studied the others.

"She should have listened." No one really knew what to say to that, so no one tried.

"Right then," Mal nodded. "I myself aim to pay a little visit to Mister Flint."

"You may accompany me if you like," Joseph said. "He will almost certainly want to see me before my 'demise'."

"Might do that," Mal nodded again. "Zoe, you got the ship. Inara and Chelsa will stay put, along with Doc and Little Kaylee. Ain't no business for a pregnant woman to be in, no way."

"Yes sir," Zoe nodded. She wanted to go along as well, but knew that someone had to stay behind. They had been struck too many times now to leave the ship or the lesser able bodies undefended. Zoe was more than capable of defending them and the ship. She knew it and so did everyone else.

"We got us a plan then," Mal nodded firmly.

FIREFLY

Jayne sat cross-legged in a sweat lodge, coping with barely remembered meditations and prayers as the shaman, the only one with any Blood Knife connections, chanted over him, sprinkling him with God only knew what.

A part of him hated this, something he had not truly grown up with but had to accept as his heritage. Another part of him was saddened that he had not had the chance to learn of these things as he should. That he had been denied the chance to grow to manhood with his family and become a man of his clan.

Fate was fickle, though, something he knew all to well. She threw turns and twists at you every day, sometimes more than once a day. All you could do was hold on and follow the road she placed before you.

He had once believed that a man made his own fate, his own destiny, but the events that had led him all over the verse only to see him back here where he started had robbed him of that notion. Despite all his intentions, his work, here he sat.

Right back where he started.

Except this time he wasn't a teenage boy that could not save his people. What was left of them. Now he was the Blood Knife. He was the shadow in the darkness. The bringer of death and pain. The hunter. He was vengeance made manifest for all to see. To fear.

He was Shade.

FIREFLY

The man known as One was likewise seated with the Dos Osos Shaman, undergoing the same ritual. He was driven to win, not least so that he could regain his reputation. The hand of Annassa Flint was nothing to scoff at, either. While wedding her would not make him chief, it would place him in a strong place, and his sons would one day rule Dos Osos. The Flint daughter was a rare beauty, strong and proud. She would make any man a fine wife.

He could not help but wonder at how the great Blood Knife, Cuchilo De Sangre, could not see those advantages. Why turn away from such a woman, such an opportunity for his children to inherit greatness?

Weakness. That was all that One could see. The man was weak. He lacked the stomach to do that which was necessary to ensure his line. To make safe his people. There could be no other reason for the choices the man had made.

That was fine with One. He owed the Ironhorse for the death of three of his team, and for ruining his reputation. And once this was finished, once he was the husband of George Flint's daughter and had sired an heir, then he would slip away, off world, and return to the place of his humiliation and defeat. He would finish what he and his men had started.

He would kill the wife of Ironhorse and anyone else close to him. There would be no more surprises from that score.

He almost smiled, but caught it in time. It would have ruined the atmosphere of the ritual cleansing.

FIREFLY

"We cannot risk this going awry," George Flint said softly. His daughter and one other were the only people present.

"We have planned well, Father," she reminded him.

"We planned well from the start," Flint snorted. "And still here we are." He looked to the man before.

"All the arrangements have been made?" he asked. Walks Plenty nodded. He had moved silently into Joseph Many-Horses' role at the defection of the other. Soon he would be wed to Annassa Flint and be in a position to elevate his heirs to power. He would not see it himself, but his children would.

And once he had sired an heir, then he would no longer need either Flint. He would rule as Regent for his children until they came of age. At that point he would simply be the man behind the power. He could live with that.

"Everything is in place," he promised Flint even as all these thoughts ran through his mind. "I have secured the services of men who have no connection to us, through a third party. I have already eliminated the third party, so there is no connection to us. The men are already in place and know the parameters of their mission. All is in readiness."

"Excellent," George nodded, pleased. "Then tomorrow we will see what we will see."

FIREFLY

"You know, we don't know that these guys are already in place," Goldie mentioned as he, Blade, Wart and Liam followed the map Joseph had provided them to the field.

"I would be," Liam said gently. All three of the older people looked to him.

"I would be waiting right now," he said, refusing to shrink under their scrutiny. "There's no point in waiting until morning. Too much risk of being seen. I'd be laying there right now, just waitin' for things to heat up."

"You been hanging around Shade too long, kid," Blade shook her head, chuckling. "But you're right. I would be too," she admitted.

"So we need to ease in there, then," Wart mused. "And we're gonna have to be careful. It ain't like these guys will just be laying out in the open."

"Got that covered, I hope," Goldie pulled a box from the back of their mule. "These are IR imagers, along with some NVGs. Don't know that these guys won't have a way to spoof 'em, but unless they do, we should be able to zero on them pretty easy." He passed the items around.

"So do we stay together, or split up?" Wart asked as he took the items.

"Good question," Blade frowned. "If they really are already there, then we could just kill them and go."

"Can't risk more coming," Liam pointed out and once again the older members looked at him.

"Jayne ain't got no shortage of enemies," he shrugged. "Ain't nothin' says just cause we find somebody waiting for him out here, won't be more later."

"Kid 's got a point," Wart shrugged. "I say we work together as we go. We find and eliminate anyone who's out here, and then we'll stay around the field and just sort o'. . .watch. You know?"

"Works," Goldie nodded, happy with that plan. "Lets get going."

FIREFLY

Joseph Ironhorse studied Malcolm Reynolds from behind his desk as the two sat in Joseph's new tribal office in the council building. The clan's money, kept in trust for long years, would soon be put to work rebuilding a new township for the regenerated clan, and that would include their own tribal offices. Until then, a long unused office here in the council building was being pressed into service.

Captain Reynolds was an enigma to Joseph in many ways. He simply did not seem like the kind of man to command the respect of someone like Blood Knife. Yet it was clear that the son of Ironhorse not only did respect the ship captain, but also had affection for him as well. A familial love that would have belonged to his own family, had they not been killed.

"When do you expect Flint to be here?" Reynolds asked, breaking into his train of thought.

"When we least expect it," Joseph's reply was dry. "He will either attempt to brazen his way inside and confront us head on, or he will attempt to catch us by surprise at some point. The only thing I am sure of is that he will confront me directly before he has me killed."

"You seem pretty calm about that," Mal mentioned.

"He either will, or will not succeed," Joseph shrugged. "I was his sub-Chief. Somewhat akin to what you would call a vice president, or perhaps a Lieutenant Governor. He will see what I have done as a betrayal of himself on a personal level, regardless of the fact that I ensured all was done legally. He will need to, as you might say, 'dress me down' for that. After which he will have an underling kill me. Or attempt to," he smiled slightly.

"What's your connection to Jayne?" Mal asked, just short of a demand.

"Three generations gone, our ancestors were of the same family," was the measured reply. "My foremother left the clan when she wed, as is the custom. She married into the Dos. . .the Two Bears tribe, and here I am."

"So Jayne, he just asked you to up and leave your friend Flint and move over to his side?"

"George Flint is many things, but my friend is not one of them," came the cool answer to that question. "Ironhorse made a reasoned argument for my returning to my foremother's tribe and assuming a role in the rebuilding of that storied clan, returning it to the rolls. His argument was well presented. And it allowed me to regain whatever honor I had lost in serving Flint."

"What part did you play in his trying to kill River?" Mal asked, eyeing the older man closely.

"None," Joseph replied at once. "I argued against the team being sent to him off-world, recorded a protest against it in fact. Tribal law forbids their use off planet without Council approval, something that is rarely granted. It simply isn't done."

"Flint did it," Mal pointed out.

"And now he is paying the price for it," Joseph nodded. "It was his attempt to kill the wife of Ironhorse that ensured that George Flint would have to answer the challenge posted by your friend. As an unraised male, Ironhorse would not have been able to make such a challenge otherwise. Nor can he hold the position of clan chief, or elder. That is why he asked my help, I believe. That and the fact that I have not acted in dishonor toward him."

"How does he know that?" Mal cocked his head to one side.

"You would not understand," Joseph shrugged. "Our ways are as foreign to you as yours are to us."

"Try me," Mal all but ordered.

"We have an oath, a swearing," Joseph replied after a brief hesitation. "He demanded it of me, and made a well voiced argument to me to get it. Once I swore that oath to him, I was honor and duty bound to tell him the truth in all things, regardless of their nature. Because I honor the old ways, he knows that my word is good." He paused, looking for the right words to continue.

"We are different from you, Malcolm Reynolds," he said finally, still struggling to find a way to explain things to the other man. "Our ways seem trivial to you, and perhaps they are, compared to your own. Flint has long ceased to honor those ways. I have fought him tooth and claw in his plans to acquire the De Meurtos Tribal lands because what he sought to do was dishonorable. Ironhorse knows this. He also knows that I refused to take part in any of Flint's machinations to bring about his plans. That said, I could not stop him."

"Why not?" Mal demanded.

"Tribal chiefs, clan chieftains, hold immense power over their own people and resources. While he has people like me, or did have, to advise and support him, never mistake that for his having to answer to us. He doesn't. He does, however, have to answer to the Tribal Council when he acts outside established law. He has done that, more than once, in is dealings to acquire the Blood Knife lands. Those sins are coming home to him now."

"So why is this fight takin' place then, instead of him goin' to jail?" Mal demanded.

"We do not have 'jail', Malcolm Reynolds," Joseph explained. "We have a very direct justice system. It is based on two things; restitution, and revenge. Restitution is immediate once ruled upon and can take many forms, though the most usual is financial. Revenge is served in actions like the fight tomorrow. The winner will, quite literally, win everything."

"The winner tomorrow will claim all in this matter, and it will be decided for all time. There can never be another argument raised over this incident, under any circumstances. Trial by combat will decide the matter."

"So if the offended fella ain't good enough, the crime goes unpunished." Mal was liking this less and less by the minute.

"We believe that the 'offended fella', as you put it, will have the Gr. . .God upon his side," Joseph shrugged. "Fate will intervene and see to it that the right man wins."

"Flint, he don't believe in that, though," Mal noted.

"Which is why it is good to have family to back one's play," Joseph smiled.

FIREFLY

Annassa Flint studied her image in the mirror, a deep sigh escaping her lips as she did so. She had done everything she could to ensure victory, but she was troubled none-the-less. She could not see why, but she knew, somehow, that things would not go as planned.

When One failed to kill Ironhorse, her father's hired assassins would try to do so. That had been tried before, however, and Ironhorse still lived. She was convinced for the first time that Fate was simply against them in this and they could not win.

With that in mind she had secured a back up plan for herself. Being off-world with her father had allowed her to see past her people's ways into the wide universe outside their culture.

She had liked it.

Annassa Flint had slowly and carefully gathered her own resources over the years, quietly siphoning funds from various tribal endeavors. Never a great deal, never too much from any one place, and always carefully covered. She had in the last few years amassed a considerable fortune. Enough to live out her life in relative comfort somewhere else. Away from Tokala and her oppressive father.

Assuming her father survived the next few hours. She was in no way sure that would happen.

She did know that she had no intention of being married to One, to Walks Plenty, or any of the other men her father had promised her favors to in exchange for their cooperation. She frowned as she thought of how he had dangled her before men whose help he needed, almost as if she were a common woman off the street. To call it demeaning was an insult to the word.

So tonight she would take her money and the ship she had hired and she would leave Tokala behind, once and for all, disappearing into the vast universe that awaited her far from here and her fathers reach.

She regretted that she would not have the opportunity to see her father's fall, or take part in it herself, but it was better to ensure her own escape than to risk losing her opportunity at freedom. She would never be allowed to rule Dos Osos, not after the hash her father had made of things. She would not even have proxy rule, now. Just another reason to hate her father.

She gathered her things quickly, her bags already gone ahead with Flowers in Bloom. The woman would accompany her as always, loyal to the end. Annassa would honor that loyalty because she needed the other woman, and because she could trust her. That was enough.

Taking one last look at the grand lodge that had always been her home, Annassa Flint slipped away in the dark, confident that her father would not note her absence until it was too late.

So intent upon her escape was she that she missed the slight figure that left the shadows around the lodge, following her as she made her way into the night. The ship wasn't far, and she was approaching the ramp when a voice from the dark stopped her.

"I warned you not to pursue your course, witch," the eerie voice floated to her, calm and serene. She froze.

"You should have listened."

Annassa turned slowly to see the wife of Ironhorse standing a few feet away, gun in hand. The woman's face was flat, empty of any emotion.

"Yes, I should have," Annassa replied calmly, setting her bag down. She had her knife, but was not carrying a gun. "I was foolish."

"On that we can agree," River nodded. "Going somewhere?"

"I am leaving," Annassa nodded. "There is nothing for me here, now. Just a domineering father and an oppressive society that holds women down. There is too much to see and do to remain here and be trod upon." Annassa was trying to keep the smaller woman's attention on her. Already she could see past her to where Flowers was creeping up, two men with her. They would be able to save her if she could buy them time.

"Do you intend to shoot me?" she asked the smaller woman. "I have no gun, myself."

"No," River replied. "I'm not going to shoot you."

Without looking she turned her shoulder and fired three quick shots behind her. Annassa's eyes widened in shock as Flowers and her two henchmen fell, each shot in the head. The smaller woman's eyes never left her own.

In seconds she disassembled the weapon after unloading it, tossing the pieces on the ground. She reached behind her and withdrew a silver bladed knife that gleamed in the dim light almost as if it were alive.

"You have a knife, I see," River's voice was still as calm as ever. "Do you know how to use it?"

"All Tokalan children learn to use a knife as soon as they can hold one," Annassa sneered, drawing her honor dagger.

"Good," River nodded and leaped across the distance between them without another word.

FIREFLY

There was an old saying among people like Goldie, Blade and Wart. One that had come down from Earth That Was it was said, but however old it might be, they had not only found it to be true, they had made it that way for far too many;

Death waits in the dark

Death also stalked in the dark, and it was stalking right now. Goldie could see the dim outline of a man laying prone before him a few feet away. He had wondered about that until he'd noticed that the image of his hand was dim as well. When he looked, it was covered in clay like mud that he had crawled through to get where he was.

The hunter in front of him had covered himself with dirt. Goldie smiled in the dark, shaking his head slightly. Mud won't save you tonight, buddy, he thought to himself.

For most men, sneaking up on a man raised in a culture that prized stealth above most all else would have been difficult if not impossible. For a man like Goldie, it just took patience. Sooner than anyone might have thought Goldie was right behind the man, in easy knife range already. Once he was set, Goldie took a small twig in his left hand, knife ready in his right, and broke it.

Instantly the man was turning, but Goldie was already moving. Before the man could get all the way around, Goldie's knife was buried to the hilt in the man's solar plexus. As he held his left hand over his victim's mouth, Goldie ripped the blade across and then up. He watched as the light left the eyes in front of him, the light just enough to allow him to see it go out. Lowering the man to the ground, he wiped his blade on the man's shirt, then moved a short ways off and took a seat.

He keyed his mike once, then again, then went silent.

It took another thirty minutes for the others to check in. Liam was last, but signaled that his target was down and that he was in place. Satisfied, Goldie leaned back against a tree and got comfortable. Practically a ring-side seat for the fight.

FIREFLY

Annassa Flint dropped back a step and swept her own blade up, barely managing to check the blade her attacker wielded. The smaller woman smiled briefly at that, nodding almost as if someone had answered a question only she could hear.

"I will kill you," Annassa hissed.

"No, you won't," River smiled again. "But I will enjoy letting you try." Saying that she moved again. Annassa responded too slowly and River's blade left a trickle of blood on her arm. She looked at it with barely contained rage. Almost snarling, she struck back, her blade moving in a complicated series of moves that her people had refined over hundreds of years. She struck suddenly, just like the snake she was so often compared to, certain that she was about to end this fight.

Her blade clanged against that of her attacker and she felt River's blade as it nicked her again, this time on the hand. Hissing, she drew her knife back and swung at River's head, only to see the smaller woman drop gracefully back almost horizontal to the ground and avoid the blow, then reply to it with a kick to Annassa's thigh. She staggered back, almost stunned. River rose before her, still smiling.

"All you had to do was leave us alone," River sing-songed as she followed her prey. "But instead, you tried to kill me, which ended in your trying to kill our daughter by mistake. How would your people respond to that kind of attack?" Before Annassa could reply or react, River's knife licked out and nicked her again on her 'guard' arm.

Annassa was alarmed now and it showed. For the first time her life was in real danger. She changed her grip on her knife and lunged, trying to use her height advantage and strike down on her opponent.

Instead of dodging, River turned inside the blow and struck Annassa's arm as it fell, jarring her to her shoulder and causing her to drop her knife. She scrambled back as River picked the blade up. She examined it for a few seconds, then tossed it contemptuously back to Annassa's feet.

"Nice knife," she said calmly. "It will look good on my wall."

Screeching at the insult, her fear forgotten, Annassa knelt and scooped the treasured knife up, cutting edge raised as she extended her shoulder and ripped upwards. River simply sidestepped the attack and the over-extended Annassa tumbled to the ground. River was atop her in an instant, blade to the other woman's throat.

"I thought you would be tougher," she said simply as she drew the blade across Annassa's throat. The Two Bears Princess gurgled for a minute as she choked on her own blood, then went silent and still. River rose slowly, dusted herself off and cleaned her blade on Annassa's clothing before re-sheathing it. She took the blade Annassa had carried, cut the sheath off her belt, and placed it behind her.

She had meant it when she said it would make a fine trophy.

Leaving a scene of death and destruction behind her, River disappeared into the dark of night as if she'd never been there.

FIREFLY

"I'm beginning to think that George isn't coming," Joseph said finally as dawn was starting to creep along the tree tops. "Of course I have been wrong before," he admitted.

"Day ain't over," Mal shrugged.

"True, but we do have things to see to," Joseph agreed. "I have to go to the field, Malcolm, but you cannot. You should return to your ship, I suppose."

"Reckon I'll sit here," Mal shook his head. "Might show up thinking you're still here."

Joseph took in Mal's exaggerated calm and almost smiled.

"She is important to you, isn't she?" he asked.

"She is," Mal didn't pretend he didn't know what the other man was saying.

"Try not to be seen," was all Joseph said. "I will return when I can."

"You should be careful," Mal warned.

"I have three trustworthy men to escort me," Joseph assured him. He opened the door to reveal his escort, all grim looking men who rivaled Jayne in build. They were obviously of the same blood. "Be watchful."

"You bet," Mal said simply, resuming his seat in the corner. He listened to the steps as the other men departed, his head leaning against the wall. Stillness wasn't something Mal had ever been good at, but being hurt and down for so long had taught him a frustrated patience that he put to use now.

Regardless of whatever else happened today, he had promised himself that George Flint would pay for what he'd done to his Albatross. Not to mention the hell he'd put the rest of them through, nearly killing Chelsa in the process. Mal wasn't sure what motivated him more. That the attempt had nearly killed the girl, or that it had been intended for River.

He reflected on many things as he sat there, mostly how his life had changed over the past few years. His relationship with Inara especially, which reminded him that now that he was well, it was time to be making an honest woman of her. Inara had stuck by him through thick and thin. He winced every time he thought of how many times he'd said hurtful things to her over the years.

He had been trying to protect himself from her, but that wasn't right. It didn't make what he'd done or said right. He had been a fool, and was the luckiest fool ever to live that she would still talk to him, let alone consider marrying him. While he might have lost-

His thoughts were interrupted by the door to the office being thrown open. A lone man with dark hair going gray stepped inside. Mal was already on his feet when the man he suspected was George Flint, turned his gaze toward Mal.

"Who are you?" Flint demanded.

"Malcolm Reynolds," Mal replied calmly. "You?"

"Not that it concerns you offworlder, but I am George Flint."

"Thought so," Mal nodded. He thought about all the things he'd planned to say to this man when he had the chance. All the things he'd planned to make known. None of them seemed important now. None of them mattered. Not really. Only one thing.

"The man you know as Ironhorse?" Mal said quietly. "I call him Jayne. My son-in-law, more or less, and Captain of a ship I own."

"So?" Flint demanded. "I am chieftain to the Dos Osos. What do I care of your connection to him? One way or another I will be his chieftain as well. Either his, or that of his people."

"One problem with that, 'Chief'," Mal replied, suddenly tired of breathing the same air as this man.

"And that would be?" Flint demanded imperiously.

Mal's hand flashed to his side and his gun came level. The round was in the air before Flint even realized it. The heavy bullet struck him just above the bridge of the nose, blowing the back of his head almost completely off.

A look of stunned amazement still on his face, the older man slowly crumpled to the floor. Mal holstered his pistol and then removed another from behind his back. He calmly fired a round from that gun into a hole in one of the logs that made up the wall, then crossed to where Flint lay and placed the gun in his hand. It was the same caliber as the gun Mal had carried for so many years. He stood, surveying his handiwork, and nodded. He looked down at the man who had caused so much pain and trouble to his family.

"Problem is," he said softly, "that I'm Jayne's 'chieftain'. And you messed with the wrong family."

With that he left the office, leaving the door open. Long coat flowing in the wind, he made his way back to his ship where the woman he intended to wed was waiting.

FIREFLY

A/N; One more chapter, perhaps two, and Shade will be done. I don't know how to feel about it at the moment, to be honest. I'm proud of it, yet sad that it will be done. Thank you all so much for your support and encouragement over the years. I'm thrilled that you've enjoyed these tales.

My novel Stormcrow, which is what Shade was based on, is now available on Amazon, starting today in fact. There's a link to it on my blog, or it's available under my pen name, N.C. Reed. A dream realized at long last. If you decide to check it out, I hope you enjoy it as much as you have this.

Much Love,

Bad Karma