Niska's Skyplex

Erza High orbit.

The door slammed closed behind Mal and Wash as they were roughly shoved down a small set of stairs. The echo of it sent a cold chill down the captain's spine as he forced his mind to focus on anything but the stench of rot in the room they now found themselves in. They were alone at least; but for how long?

"You okay?" Mal asked his pilot blindly as he tested the restraints which bound his hands behind his back.

"I think I've been kidnapped." Wash rushed out in a burst of near panic. He swung his head and body around as he tried to see below the darkness of his blindfold to no avail. He couldn't place the smell in the room; but the instinctive churning in his stomach told him enough. "You see where we are?"

"No." The brevity of Mal's answer frightened Wash more than the single syllable word itself.

Wash forced himself to be still and listened; for what, he wasn't sure. The sound of an engine? Movement below his feet? A girlish giggle? Anything besides the incessant dripping and quiet electrical hum of the room they were in would have suited him nicely; unfortunately, he had nothing. "It's not a ship. I don't think we're moving."

"Good to know." Mal answered emotionlessly as he began to feel out the room. "Air don't smell right." He replied quietly as his fingers grabbed a hold of some kind of metal bar. Blindly, he traced the lines of it as far as he could go. His fingers passed through something concealed and cold; he moved away from that length of metal.

"What the hell is that smell? !" Wash demanded violently.

"Could be anything." Mal lied easily as he fought to keep neutrality in his tone. God, he wished it were Zoe, or Jayne, or Riddick with him at the moment. "Try not to think about it."

"Mal, what the hell is going on? !" Wash shouted as he gave up any pretense of control he might have been holding onto.

"I ain't rightly sure." Mal replied honestly as he found the wall and tried to walk the length of the room; that was proving to be circular. The dip in the grating at the center of the floor unnerved him. There was a drain somewhere. He forced himself to continue to walk the line of the wall.

"But you got some theories." Wash persisted.

"Still working it through." Mal kept his tone even and hoped to hell his theories were wrong.

"I don't want you to spare me, Mal. If you think you know what's going on, then tell me. You wouldn't spare Zoe if she were here with you, would you?" Wash pleaded.

If Zoe were here she wouldn't be screaming to high Hell; she'd be walking the length of the wall with me right now, gorraamit.

"That's right," Wash continued frantically. "You'd be conferring and planning and plotting and possibly scheming. So, whatever Zoe would do in this instance is what I want to do. And you know why?" Wash asked but didn't give time for Mal to answer. "Because no matter how ugly it gets, you two always come back. You come back with the stories. So, I'm Zoe. Now, what do I do?" Wash asked, his head jerking wildly as he attemped to track the sound of Mal's footsteps.

"Probably not talk quite so much." Mal grunted as he carefully measured out the distance from one side of the room to the other using his feet.

"Right." Wash nodded, breathing heavily. "Less talking." He tried to straighten himself slightly. "She's terse. I can be terse. Once, in flight school, I was laconic." He nodded to reassure himself. Several moments passed in almost total silence as he stood there nodding to himself and listening to Mal's shuffling footsteps move around the room. He couldn't take the silence; under the weight of it, it had begun to feel as though the universe was pounding against his chest. "If I'm not gonna talk, then you have to!" He shouted abruptly. "What else?"

"We just gotta keep our heads!" Mal snapped; losing his even composure for the first time. He had completed his tour of the room. It was small, circular, and reeked of rotting flesh, urine, and blood. The metal structure in the center of the room was coated in congealed blood and completed with leather restraints. They were not moving, but the air smelt and tasted recycled. They had been on Erza. One name drifted into his mind and he had never hoped like hell that he was wrong in a situation before.

"Right. Keep our heads." Wash forced air into his lungs and continued to nod. Why he was nodding, he had no idea. It was most likely due to the fact that having his hands tied behind his back prevented him from flailing his arms and he needed a way to expel his nervous energy. "That way we'll be able to, you know keep our heads." He swallowed hard. "You and Zoe been in plenty of situations like this before, right?"

"Many a time." Mal answered, regaining control over his tone.

"Many a time." Wash repeated to reassure himself. "You and Zoe..." His words trailed off as he brought up an image of his beautiful wife, which was followed immediately by one of her in the current predicament he found himself in now.

"As soon as we figure who it was that took us..."

"Zoe and you together..." Wash cut him off as he stumbled slightly over something on the floor. "Together in a tricky... Mal, she's my wife!" He yelled suddenly.

"Huh?"

"What gives you the right to put her in a dangerous situation like this?" Wash shouted in outrage.

"I didn't!" Mal snapped back indignantly.

"You did!" Wash accused.

"She ain't here, Wash." Mal pointed out tersely.

"No, but she would have been!"

"Okay, but..." He had to concede with a bit of an annoyed nod even though Wash couldn't see it.

"It never really hit me until... well, until I got hit..." Wash continued on, not giving Mal time to reply. "And blindfolded and kidnapped and..and Tian shia (everything under the sky) the smell is burning my nostrils "

"Wash..." Mal warned heatedly.

"I mean I'm the one she swore to love, honor and obey!" Wash yelled indignantly.

"Wash, listen-," Mal started before an odd thought struck him. "She swore to obey?" His head cocked to the side and there was a trace of disbelief in his tone.

"Well, no... not..." Wash paused momentarily but when he began again his voice was raised and little flecks of spittle flew from his lips. "That's not my point!" he exclaimed bitterly. "You she obeys! There's obeying going on right under my nose!"

Mal took a deep breath; his voice was calm and controlled when he spoke but the underlying tension could not be missed. "Look, Zoe and I got a history. She trusts me."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Wash demanded.

"Don't mean a thing!" Mal exclaimed loudly, losing control of his temper quickly. He did not have time for this argument, not now, not with his hands tied in a room that reeked like pain. "You're making it out like Zoe just blindly follows my every word and it ain't true."

"Sure it is!" Wash yelled back.

"Not so!" Mal barked in reply. "There's been plenty of orders of mine she didn't obey!"

"Name one!" The pilot challenged.

"She married you!" Mal spat out almost before Wash could finish.

Wash didn't have the mental facilities to process that fact at the moment; nor, apparently, did he have the time as their attention was redirected to the left when the door slammed open.

Mal's body stood frozen and locked with tension as he his blindfold was forcibly yanked off. It took his eyes a second to adjust; a second longer still for his mind to digest the information they sent it.

"Tah mah duh hwoon dahn- (phonetically, mother humping son of a-)." The captain breathed out at the sight of the small elderly man before him; one that could have been called grandfatherly, almost, if not for the sadistic smirk which danced along the edges of his thin lips.

"What? !" Wash demanded, still blindfolded, and Mal found he didn't have the words to answer.

*T*F*C*

"It won't be enough." River declared sadly as she watched Zoe zip up the canvas bag loaded with every last coin and credit the crew had between them; all that was except Riddick, who had only delivered half of his remaining funds. She could not hold his logic against him. He knew, just as she did, that no amount of money in the 'Verse would be enough to ransom both men. It had nothing to do with foresight or precognition or even greed. The odds had been calculated; variables taken into consideration; every solution ended in blood. Niska was a man that sought Dao and Dao could not be bought.

"You don't know that." Zoe gritted out tersely as she shouldered the sack. River spared her the look only because she could feel the pain and desperation which radiated out of the woman's every pore.

"Zoe." Riddick rumbled darkly from the doorway; it was a partial warning against the use of her tone against River, and the stupidity of her actions.

"What's to say he won't grab you, too?" Jayne snapped as he pushed himself away from the table. He felt helpless; helpless and useless. His body trembled with energy he had no outlet for and he began to pace. "We were all in on that job. Mal and Wash could just be the start." His eyes snapped to Kaylee; a twinge of fear rippling down his spine and, subconsciously, his hand moved for the gun at his hip.

"Niska's got a code; as twisted as it is. He gets excited over reputation; this will work." Zoe replied, though River knew the soldier was telling herself that more than anyone else. "I go in there unarmed and alone and he'll make the deal. There's a whole lot of money in this bag."

"There is no price for Dao." River warned her, her gaze was far away; her body was rigid with tension as she felt the echoes of electricity bleed into her veins. "I feel them. I feel him."She said slowly as her right hand drifted upwards while her fingers danced through the air. Vaguely, Riddick could identify the pattern they traced as numbers. "He hears Dao; hidden inside the screaming. She can hear them scream. She can hear everything and nothing. The walls bleed rage." Her voice trembled. "Pieces. They drift. Broken bits. Pain. So. Much. Pain." Her body trembled with her voice and her limbs curled into her body without conscious realization she was doing so.

"Niska will see reason." Zoe reaffirmed tersely.

"Reason?" Inara scoffed. "The man's a gangster. You returned the money for the job already. What good could come from paying him more? The man isn't interested in it apparently."

"Could be he's harboring a bit of resentment over his boy we tossed into the engine." Jayne pointed out. "That's the case, that money ain't gonna buy both."

"An ear for an eye." River whispered.

"What the hell does that mean?" Zoe asked, her voice tight with tension.

"I don't know. She cannot see. The River whispered." The Reader replied vaguely. "Time is running long. Seconds pass for hours and they scream." Her voice had taken on a dream-like quality. She was completely aware, to a certain extent, of the events falling out around her, but she was caught up in The Flow. The girl was systematically shutting herself down and retreating; retreating to a place where the endless screaming could not touch her. Riddick could feel her burrowing deeper into his mind. "One for sorrow, two for mirth, three for a wedding, four a birth, five for silver, six for gold, seven for a secret not to be told, eight for heaven, nine for hell, and ten for the devil's own sel'."

"This isn't just about the botched job anymore." Riddick translated, remembering the rhyme clearly from the night of the job. "This is about the fact we turned on him and killed a few of his boys in the process."

"An example." River nodded as she slowly rose in one liquid movement. "You waste time with debate. Either go or run. Either way it ends in blood. Pain. Blood. Electricity." She paused and tilted her head at her brother. "Sadistic crap legitimized by florid prose." She echoed her brother's words in a tone that was startlingly like his own. "They all scream."

"Wait a reasonable amount of time." Zoe suddenly barked. She was done with the debate. She was going after her men. "You don't hear back, you take Serenity and you get the hell out of this quadrant. This don't play out right and there's no guarantee he won't come after you."

"Precognitive ability is absent. She cannot see." River interjected without being prompted; although nearly ever crew member had asked the question of her mentally. "Assumptions are failings of the weak. She is no longer a psychic; your terminology is wrong. She is telepathic, she is empathic; psychic, she is not. She feels. She hears. She does not see."

"What do you feel?" Zoe asked carefully, unsure if she wanted the answer or not.

"Don't ask questions you fear the answers of." River replied, her face held long enough to retreat from the mess. Vaguely, she was aware of Riddick's boots on the grating; vaguely, she was aware her brother was calling. The world was rapidly shifting. Her focus was scattered and uncontrollable; spiking rapidly and then receding. Bursts of vivid pain and electricity ricocheted along the inside of her mind; she made it to the center of the bay. A solid and warm set of arms caught her as she fell. It was inconsequential; her physical body may have stopped falling but her mind did not. She opened her lips to speak as Zoe closed the second shuttle door. No sound moved past them. The tremble of Mother below her body as the shuttle disengaged vibrated through her bones and trembled life into her vocal cords. She threw back her head and screamed.

*T*F*C*

Wash couldn't bring himself to scream any longer as thousands of volts of electricity burned through his nerves. Pain; he'd bitten deeply into his tongue. When had he done that? Every second seemed like an hour; had it only been a handful of them or had he lived a lifetime already? Niska hadn't spoken. The old fuck had stood there silent and unblinking; licking his lips as he watched. Wash couldn't even find it in him to chuckle as the mental image of Marshall coming to life and super-sizing himself to rip through that hateful door and bite the face off of that old fucking hun dan (bastard). Darkness was seeping into his vision; everything had a faint bluish hue. Someone was speaking now, but he couldn't hear the words. He was positive both of his eardrums had ruptured but he wasn't sure when.

"Wash!" He heard his name be ripped into existence and he forced his head up. Mal, that was who had been speaking. "You still list lis..listening " The captain stammered out, choking on a bit of blood. "'Cause I'm not...not gonna say it.. 'gain " Mal managed to roll his head to his left to look at him. "Shipboard romances complicate things." He finished in a desperate rush of air.

"For who? For you?" Somewhere in himself Wash found it to be angry. He felt the slow heat boil up through his veins and replace the cold sear of electricity.

"For everyone." Mal forced air in and out of his lungs.

"Well, what about lov-," Wash went to bite back but his words were lost to a tortured scream he didn't know he had left in him.

"Agh!" Mal slammed his head back against the vertical metal board, forcing a new pain into his body to get his words out. Wash. That's what would keep him going. He was an officer and he had a soldier to see through this. Wash would not break. Sergeant Malcolm Reynolds would not allow it. "Ain't against it as a general rule." He tried to rush out conversationally but his words were slurred and fumbled over one another. "But in a situation such as ours, tends to cause problems. Splits loyalties." The captain spat out.

Wash's first attempt to speak lost itself in his mouth and he swallowed hard before trying again. "Know what I think?"

"What?" Mal challenged. Get mad at me, Wash.

The two men bit back their screams this time as electricity surged through their bodies while, less than an arm's length away, Niska smiled with childish glee.

"I hired you to do a job." Niska spoke for the first time. He flicked his wrist and there was another surge of electricity; this one quick and absolutely fierce in intensity. "Job does not get done and you kill loyal man." His wrist flicked again and the burst that followed was just as intense as but much longer than the last.

Mal thought for a moment he may had blacked out; to his left Wash's groan jolted him back into awareness and pain. "What? What, Wash? Whaddya think? !" Mal choked out. Wash's head fell to the side as he tried to focus on Mal through glazed eyes. "Wash? You hear me?"

"You make lie of my reputation." Niska scowled slightly; he was not being paid attention to. This was unacceptable. He flicked his wrist against, his scowl fading as he watched with pleasure the men twitch violently.

"Wash!" Mal barked again. "You you got somethin' to to say to me?"

Wash's head snapped up and the world jarred into focus. "Wha-? This... Thiss policy you got." He breathed in heavily. "'Gainst... onboard romances that's just you projecting your own intimacy issues on others . On others."

"I show you my reputation is truth." Niska interrupted their conversation angrily; another wave of electricity was executed.

Mal growled low in his chest as the pain subsided."Yeah?" He snorted defiantly, ignoring the sadistic old fuck and focusing on Wash. "That's just downright insight...insightful. 'Course could be be I just don't think you're good 'nough for Zo." His head slammed back against the board as another course of cold fire burned through his skin. He tasted blood and realized belatedly he'd bitten into his cheek; when the pain stopped, he coughed out a clump of blood.

"I don't give a good gorram what you think!" Wash ground out through a jaw he could not unclench.

"Don't you? Zoe and me, we got hisss..history. I figure you gotta be askin'... askin' yourself some fundamental questions 'bout the nature of that history." From somewhere inside of him, Mal found a smug chuckle; it came out broken and half-hearted. It did its job.

"You never slept with my wife!" Wash scoffed angrily.

"Know that for a fact?" Mal challenged and he was going to press further; another wave of electricity turned his words unintelligible. Next to him, Wash's breathing was turning shallow and Mal had to force his words out. "She's a damn fine lookin' woman, and we been together since long 'fore you came 'round." He choked out another broken chuckle.

"Nev...never happ...appened." Wash slurred, trying to keep his feet under him. "Know how I know?" His head flopped to the side as he tried to focus.

"How? Tell me? How?" Mal demanded, yanking on his own restraints.

"Whole captain thing isn't Zoe's trouble," Wash's voice was unnaturally high-pitched and his words were choked out between breathes. "Whole captain thing isn't Zoe's trouble. It's the guy-she-never-slept-with thing. Hell, Mal, I wish you'd sleep with her. Then at least she'd be over it." The pilot was half sobbing as he spoke.

"You want me to sleep with her?" Mal rushed out. "That make you feel better?"

"It might." Wash gasped.

Niska was no longer angry. No, he was now amused and curious. Malcolm Reynolds was a different breed of man. It had been a long time since he had had the pleasure of studying one such specimen. He stepped closer with interest as he listened to the captain try to rally his man. The fleshy pilot would die quickly; the captain, he could draw out for days.

How very exciting! He clapped his hands together and practically bounced with anticipation.

"Imagine it would do wonders for her to!" Mal barked; Wash's eyes were clearing, he was beginning to focus more.

"Screw you!" The pilot barked.

"Get in line!" Mal retorted without hesitation. A scream tore through his lips this time as yet another wave rocked his body. Wash's body slumped when the assault ended. His head fell back and his eyes closed. "Okay. Gonna do it. Wash? Wash!" Mal's words dripped out slow and heavy, his voice almost unrecognizable. "Wash!"

The pilot managed only a groan in response. His head lolled to the side; his eyes refusing to open.

"Wash!" Mal shouted again. "Listen," he gulped in air. "First thing... first thing, when we get back. Listen to me!" He roared with a strength and voice he didn't realize he had left. "I'm gonna... I'm gonna take your wife into my bed."

"Yeah?"

Wash's voice was no more than a feeble moan, but it was something. Mal forced out another broken laugh, "I'm gonna get me a piece of that..." The sound of his voice was replaced by Wash's guttural scream as a round of voltage crashed through their bones.

*T*F*C*

River rocked herself; every so often a mutter or mumble would escape her lips. A rapid, muted sputtering of English and Mandarin which blended together incoherently. Riddick hovered but every time he or Simon would try to touch her she would start screaming. They left her in the center of the bay; the muted rocking was preferable.

Riddick could feel the rapid flicker of her mind as she phased through her different personalities; each one warring for control; each one claiming to be in control. It was the Girl who rocked, the Reader who muttered, and the Killer who flashed behind her eyes every time she looked up. At some point, she had laced her fingers into the grating; her knuckles turning white as though she was trying to physically hold herself grounded to reality.

At the moment, Riddick was having a bit of difficulty with reality as well. River was more deeply rooted into his mind than she had ever been before; he could practically smell her on his skin. Something was wrong with him; he wasn't sure but he could almost feel the anxiety screaming from Kaylee's mind and it was tinged with a sensation of actual sunshine and heat. He could feel Jayne's aggression. The merc was practically breathing it out with every exhale and the cloud was almost visible. Was this how River saw and felt the world around her? How could she sit there; just rocking herself? He could feel his heart rate pick up, his blood begin to boil, and it was all anxiety and rage which did not belong to him. It was Jayne's and Kaylee's; he knew it as instinctually as he knew how to breathe.

The convict couldn't keep still; he began to pace. To add to his irritation, curiosity began to ghost off of Simon and prickle at his skin. Wariness seeped out of Book's pores with every step Riddick took. How could she stand it? Why in the gorram hell was he feeling it too? If it wasn't enough that he seemed to be lapping up residuals from River, his own heightened senses were reeling as well. There was oil dripping somewhere in the ship; he heard the incessant echo of liquid splattering against metal as though it was a gunshot going off right next to his ear. There was a piece of moldy food somewhere in the bay; in one of the cracks perhaps. He could smell the rancid bread and taste it even on his tongue.

She needs The Rock to absorb what she cannot breathe in.

He forced himself to stop pacing and crouched down in front of River. He did not try to demand her attention or call her to focus; instead, he closed his eyes and slowed his breathing. Systemically, he slowed his system to function in rhythm with River's. He allowed his mind to fall back. Riddick focused on compartmentalizing the excess. Channeling it into another part; he used it to be the force behind the beating of his heart and the movement of air in and out of his lungs.

Riddick was aware of the curious stares from the crew. It poured out of them like water over rapids; he ignored it. They didn't have to understand. Hell, he didn't understand. His actions had been entirely instinctual and, as he felt the thundering recede, entirely effective. He became aware of River's small, smooth hand inside his own massive, calloused one. He wasn't sure if she had slipped hers in his or if he had reached out for her. It didn't matter. The slight contact took the edge off the onslaught. The tactile reassurance grounded him in the moment and allowed his mind to register something other than the dozens of offensive emotions bombarding him. With every inhale and exhale his awareness of the others dimmed. His focus narrowed to River; with every inhale, he breathed her in and with every exhale his mind wrapped itself more firmly around hers.

River was hyper-aware now of her surroundings. Every breath that was taken; each beat of a heart, she was aware in a way she had never been before. She could smell them. That was new. That was overwhelming. She could separate and identify each crew member's specific biometric functions. She didn't smell them through her nostrils. She wasn't hearing them through her ears. There was her mind and there was Riddick's.

Time seemed to still as she pushed herself outward; her mind followed a fragile trail that crossed millions of miles through space. Two faint consciousness' tethered at the other end. Faint and yet strong enough to feel the cold burn of electricity; strong enough to hear their screaming and take it into herself. There was no insanity to hide behind; no delusion to fall into. Riddick's mind kept her present and aware. She wasn't sure whether or not it was something to be grateful for. River was terrified; terrified because the echoes of electricity were so familiar to her mind. Terrified because she was all too familiar with sadistic amusement and restraints; terrified she had failed Mother.

/River./ She heard him call her; the voice of his mind wrapped itself around her. There was strength in the bindings and it filtered through her. The pressure, like a boil on her mind, began to recede. She felt the heat of his skin wrap around one of her hands and she was unsure if she had reached out or if he had pried her fingers from the grating. It was inconsequential. There was Riddick. Her focus narrowed and shifted.

Hiding inside Riddick's mind was not a metaphorical concept for River.

Her existence blurred the lines of reality too much for the rules of it too apply to her. She knew reality was only as we shape it.

His mind was a wild rainforest; creatures which snarled from the shadows; silver eyes glinting in the softened sunlight which broke through the canopy of trees.

These were his memories; wild and feral, she could smell the bloodlust on them.

These were his demons, lying in wait.

She did not feel threatened.

They watched her warily but they could smell their kind on her as well.

Darkness calls to darkness,

blood calls to blood.

She moved through the thick foliage easily; sliding over broken trees, her feet sinking into the damp earth; everything was raw, vivid, alive.

He has done as you asked. What will you do with it all, Little One?

Her voice rang through the jungle; rippling the leaves as through it was the wind.

Before her, two trees arched together.

It was a door.

She walked through.

Riddick sucked in a quick intake of air as he felt something in his mind shift. Memories flooded him and he was no longer in the bay of Serenity. He was walking through Niska's Skyplex. This was the past. He wasn't really there and had no tangible influence. Zoe, Jayne, and Mal weren't with him this time. This was from before; right after he left New Mecca. He watched, an outsider in his own mind, and he should have been disturbed by it but he wasn't. River was doing this. He trusted River.

He watched as corridors, ventilation shafts, security posts breezed by; things he did not remember taking notice of himself were now carefully studied. Calculations drifted into his mind; formulas he had neither hope of understanding nor any clear idea as to why he was almost seeing them as tangible objects. This place felt more alive than a memory and more detailed than a dream. He could not see River here, but he felt her in every object; he felt her turn and re-angle the image, discard information and somehow magnify details he had nearly overlooked.

Riddick lost awareness of time as his memories replayed themselves; every so often, she would rewind and replay a scene. He could almost hear her voice whispering from the shadows; again, he did not understand. More numbers, more calculations; abruptly the memories ceased. Riddick felt an ephemeral tug centered on his navel and the sensation of flying. He didn't remember closing his eyes or even blinking; but then he was reopening them and the corridors of the Skyplex were deserted.

There were gunshots. Explosions. Echoing down the hallways, he heard screaming. Panic drifted in from the ventilation shafts. The Skyplex itself seemed to tremble. The action seemed to surround him and yet he saw nothing. He tried to focus and See as River saw. Riddick focused on the panic; he breathed it in and, on the exhale willed it into being something else. Ghost images seemed to rez in front of him as if they were holographically generated.

He watched Zoe be shot. The ghosts froze, rewound themselves and the first mate entered from a different corridor alive and well. He watched the scene play out as before but this time Zoe's line of sight was different. This time she killed the man that shot her.

Holy shit. He thought to himself as he realized what was going on. River was in his head, he had opened every door for her and she had dug into his mind and unearthed his memories of Niska to build a replica of his Skyplex. She was planning, calculating; she could not predict the outcome and so she was trying to solve it. His admiration and utter awe seemed to strengthen River's efforts. The ghost images solidified and he watched her plan form. Abruptly, everything went dark. The sensation of tearing was painful. An audible snarl broke from his lips as he realized River had rooted herself too deeply into his mind. The separation was what was causing the tearing and pain.

Riddick was on his back when he opened his eyes again. Once more in the Serenity's bay. Simon was leaning over him; he felt the doctor check for a pulse.

"Ain't dead." Riddick growled as he snatched his arm away and pushed himself up. River was staring at him intently. "What the fuck was that?" He asked and, while his tone may have been harsh, it was shock and not anger.

"What she was created to do." River answered simply, something in her tone suggested that this should have been obvious.

"You were both completely unresponsive for more than ten minutes. What the hell happened?" Simon asked worriedly.

"Sister's got all kinds of tricks, doc." Riddick smirked as he rubbed the back of his neck and pushed himself to his feet. "Zoe's not coming back with them, is she?" He asked the question of River.

"She cannot see." River shook her head; her face was expressionless and blank. Riddick couldn't decide who he was looking at. She was too calm to be the Girl, to passive to be the Killer, and she wasn't saying anything he didn't already know, so she wasn't the Reader. "She is River." The young woman remarked as her head tilted slightly to the left. "Purpose and focus provides clarity. She cannot See whether or not Zoe will be successful. She knows the facts. Knowledge is tangible. She has calculated. She is prepared. She is functional." River turned away and headed towards the dorms.

"River, where are you going?" Simon called after her nervously.

A dark smirk curled around the corners of Riddick's mouth. "To get her blades, Doc." He replied; his voice rolled heavily past his lips, thick with anticipation. "Sister seems to think we're gonna need a Plan B."

"What?" Simon barked in disbelief.

"Jayne," Riddick ignored the doctor and addressed the merc.

"What?"The merc barked back; entirely uncomfortable with what had just occurred.

"Gear up." Riddick told him. Jayne shot another question back but Riddick was beyond hearing him. He turned and headed towards River's bunk. Her scent had shifted again; there was something almost tantalizing to it now.

She is River.

*T*F*C*

Vaguely, Mal was aware when a man walked into the room. He couldn't concern himself with it. It granted a reprieve. He whispered something to Niska; over that too, Mal couldn't be brought to care. The world was sliding in and out of focus. A part of him held the hope that the crew would come while another part of him hoped they had gotten the hell out of the quadrant. He would hold out as long as he could; so long as Niska had him to toy with he wouldn't go after the crew. Fresh bile rose up in his throat as unwanted thoughts of River, and what this sadistic fuck could and would do to someone like her, entered his mind.

We ain't on good terms. Mal thought to himself. But if you really are up there on high, like the Shepherd says, and you ain't some bully with a magnifying glass, you make sure they get the hell out of here. You don't let that bastard get a hold of her.

Mal took a slight bit of comfort, what little could be had in his current circumstance, that Riddick would die before Niska got his hands on River; and Riddick was a particularly hard man to kill. Mal wasn't quite sure when River had made the transition from cause to crew; then from crew to family; and finally from family to daughter. It had happened and now really wasn't the time to think on logistics.

"You will not mind if I pause to do a little business, I think, no?" The old man asked Mal absently as he fingered through a small canvas sack.

"Knock yourself out." Mal managed to sputter. "Liter...literally." He coughed out. His back was to the doorway and he paid it little mind when he heard it open. It was the sound of Wash's terrified moaning that caused him to jerk his head around.

"No...no...run...run " Wash gasped out as his wife stepped through the door.

Mal closed his eyes. You fucking bastard. He cursed the being he had only momentarily ago tried to make peace with.

Zoe entered the room. She did not look at her husband or her captain. Her steely gaze locked onto Niska. Mal knew that gaze. Mal had seen it in her eyes a thousand times during the years of the war. That woman was not his first mate; it was not his best friend or the pilot's wife. That woman was Corporal Zoe Allenye and Niska was in for a world of shit. A half-broken chuckle fell out from between his lips. He might die today but he knew Zoe would kill a few back. It was good enough for him.

"That's five times what you paid us for the train job." Zoe informed Niska; her voice was void of emotion. She did not so much as blink as a wicked smile formed around the edges of the old man's lips.

"Yes," Niska agreed jovially. "You have had, how you say it, 'good times' I see that."

"Should be more than enough to buy my men back."

"That is your opinion, is it?" Niska asked with amusement.

"It is." Her voice was like ice against glass.

"They, perhaps, are damaged now. Hmm?" He mused. "Are they worth so much to you?" He waved a careless hand behind him, toward the two man strapped down.

"Yes." Zoe never took her eyes of the old man. She was terrified. She was horribly frightened that, if she looked either her husband or captain in the eye, she would break. She would break and kill them all, herself included.

"And, to me, they are worth more. I think it is not enough." Inwardly, Zoe flinched; outwardly she betrayed nothing. The only physical clue which belied her true anger was the set of her jaw and the small tick of her muscles. "Not enough for two, but sufficient for one."

Zoe forced herself to swallow back.

"And now you have-,"

"Him." Zoe pointed to her husband.

Niska's face fell. He was disappointed. He had expected hesitation and debate. His goal had been to provoke her into a justifiable reason to take her as well. Of course, he could just take her anyway, but it would not be business-like. She had come to barter and, without provocation, Niska could not take her as well.

"I'm sorry. You were going to ask me to choose, right? Didja want to finish?" She arched her brow; issuing her challenge.

Niska held her gaze; resolving to, in time, bring this particularly lovely specimen in for study as well. "Cut him free." He ordered lightheartedly.

Wash dropped to his knees the moment the restraints were cut away. Reality crashed into his mind as his knees hit the grating. He was free. His elation lasted only until Zoe pulled him to his feet. Mal. They were going to leave Mal behind.

"He is yours. We are ended now." Niska dismissed them.

"Mal...Mal..." Wash managed to croak out in a desperate whisper. He tried to look back but his captain shook his head viciously.

Keep rutting walking, you gorram idiot! The captain screamed inside his head.

"Shhh." Zoe silenced her husband as she threw his arm over her shoulder and started to help him walk away. "Keep walkin'." She urged him quietly.

Niska did not miss the gesture between the men. Serenity was turning into a fascinating study. "A moment please." He called them back and Zoe's stomach fell into an icy pit as she left her husband leaning against the wall to turn and face Niska.

"This money-," Niska began, "-there is too much. You should have some small refund."

Zoe turned in time to witness Mal's ear being sliced from his head. She did not flinch nor turn her eyes away. The icy orbs turned colder. Mal's roar of pain filled her ears and coursed through her veins. She held out her hand without comment as she accepted the severed ear. Her eyes did not leave Niska's. She was making him a promise. A silent promise that she would be back. She would collect her captain and, if she had any say in his death, Niska would go earless and screaming. This she promised him with her eyes.

The first mate of Serenity turned her back on the man; as she did, the screams of Mal battered her eardrums. Each step she took away from the sound broke her a little bit more. The moment the shuttle door closed behind them, she and her husband collapsed together on the floor.

"He's insane." Wash gasped.

"I know it." Zoe replied as her hands cupped her husband's face. Relief, love, worry and guilt clouded her features.

"The stories...you told me the damn stories. He...saved you in the war. But I didn't...I didn't know." Wash stammered.

"You mean Mal?" She asked him, stunned and unsure if it was shock which was confusing her husband.

"He's crazy. He wouldn't break, Zoe and...and he kept me from...I wouldn't have made it."

Zoe swallowed back her emotions; carefully touching his face as though he might disappear before her. "It's okay, baby."

"Niska's gonna kill 'im." He declared angrily.

"He's gonna make it last as long as possible." Wash's head jerked up and he locked eyes with his wife. "Days, if he can." Zoe told him bluntly.

Resolved hardened across his features. An icy rage she had never seen before in his eyes filled them as he forced himself shakily to his feet. "Bastard's not gonna get days." The tremble in his body ceased after his first two shaky steps; he moved for the pilot's chair. "Comin' back for you Captain." He gritted out as he fired up the craft.