Chapter 4

"Mr. Gascoyne, order the gunships away and begin decel." Han watched the feeds developing on the plotting board. The swarm of red vectors indicating the hostile formation was almost on top of Ebenezer, and all too close to the edge of the board. The only green indicators he had was his fighter screen, and those were dots, holding station around Impregnable. A few seconds later, twelve fresh vectors appeared, close aboard, as his squadron of gunboats boosted away from their cradles. They lengthened rapidly, but there was no chance they would make intercept.

Worse, part of the perceived speed of the gunships came from Impregnable's braking. Massive and powerful as it was, the cruiser had to begin slowing long before engagement if it was to do any more than streak past Ebenezer. At current speed, they would actually reach the planet before the hostiles could land, but would be past it almost before a lock-on was possible. The lighter gunboats could brake more rapidly, and might be able to catch some of the intruders still aloft. Han looked more closely at the top of the plot.

"Warrant Black, is this reading properly?"

Black checked his console, looked back at the plot. "Yes, sir. Looks like thirty bogeys making for intercept."

"That should make life a lot easier." Han smiled. "Inform fighters and gun crews, stand by for engagement."

"Uh, sir? We've got optics on the bogeys. The ones maneuvering for intercept are all those motorized rocks. The ships are staying on course for Ebenezer." Black was a career rating, and at least twice Han's age-- Han couldn't remember precisely just now. He actually sounded nervous, and he'd been through the war. Time, he thought, to be a fine captain indeed. He straightened his spine and put his hands behind his back, adopting his best recruiting poster pose.

"Very good. Inform the gun crews they'll have some practice before the main event, and let's have a check of the point-defence systems while we're waiting for something to happen." He waited for action to start, then adjusted his cap. No one could possibly mistake the gesture for wiping sweat from his brow.

"All put to bed, Mal." Kaylee's voice came tinny through the intercom. He stood in Serenity's nose, looking up at the planet. Like most planets at a distance, it seemed quiet. He reached for the microphone.

"Thanks, Kaylee. Everyone listen up, we need to stay quiet here, so if you go to the kitchen, don't run the microwave. Best to stick with cold drinks and sandwiches." He heard Wash securing the pilot station as he spoke. Hanging up the mike, he said, "Wash, where about is town from here?"

Wash consulted a screen, then came over to where Mal stood. "That cloud formation there is what just about shook our teeth out. Town's about half a finger-width into the night side right now. Why?"

"Just curious." Mal didn't take his eyes off the planet.

"OK. I'm going to go and see if I can get some final carnal pleasures from my wife before we're all slaughtered. Have fun watching the planet."

"You said something about murder," Book said.

"Mmm-hmmm. Is it a sin, thinking about it? I haven't done murder, but it's in my heart to do it."

"It... depends," he replied. He paused a half beat, letting her believe he was pondering the matter. "The action counts much more than the deed, of course, but harbouring the notion does your soul no good. Is it someone who provokes you?"

"No...," she said, so quietly he could hardly hear her. "But... it's better if he never... how can it be a sin if the killing's a kindness?"

"Ah. Someone is sick, then?"

"No." Another pause, a soft sniff. "How could you understand?"

"It's my job to try. Maybe if you tell me who it is you're thinking of killing, we can sort it out between us."

"Jules... my baby."

The gunships were, to put it gently, taking a beating from the rocks. Han watched as another one vanished off the screen. He hadn't expected Reavers to have homers as good as that-- their reputation as a bunch of bipedal animals militated against it. Reputation aside, there were still nine of them functioning well enough for engagement. What worried him was that some of the rocks, the really big ones, had ignored the gunships and were tracking Impregnable. The point-defence weapons would handle a missile well enough, but missiles were relatively flimsy. He wasn't sure how well the system would manage rocks massing as much as four tonnes.

Best, he thought, if the test doesn't happen at all. "Let's get the main guns tracking on those," he said, pointing at the indicators on the screen. "Knock them down as far out as practical."

"The gunships are three minutes from engagement," Black reported. "Number six reports engine damage, they can't brake enough for orbit."

"Six? That's... Flight Lieutenant Shapely, isn't it" Gascoyne nodded. "Very well. Tell them to fire a volley on the way past and make their way back as well as they can."

"Captain," Black said, "I've got an image from Gunship 3 you might want to look at."

Han leaned in. The image had the familiar distortions of a greatly magnified view, but he could make out the components lashed to the asteroid well enough. Engine, fuel store, RCS pods... he tapped a finger on the screen. "Well, there's why they track so well."

Gascoyne craned to see what the Captain was pointing at. A rough sphere of glass and metal, set well back on the long axis, and just visible in one of the glass panels, a head and shoulders. A cockpit.

Book whirled and gaped at Amber before he could master himself. "You mean to kill...," he said, pointing towards her belly, "your own child?"

She took a step back, but didn't turn away. Book could hardly make her out at the far end of the house, just her dress, hanging ghostlike in the gloom. No, there was something else he could see-- a glimmer of reflected moon off something in her hand.

"Wise woman over at North Farm, gave me poison, told me how much to use. Been trying to get up the courage to use it. Stay over there, Father, or I'll drink it all down and kill me and Jules both."

Book held up his hands, remaining otherwise motionless. "There's no need for that, child. To answer your original question, there's no sin in the thought of murder, but remember that you haven't finished your confession. Best not to do anything here you might regret at great length. Why don't you sit down on the stairs, and I'll rest against the wall here. Now, why do you want to deny Jules his time in the sun?"

As he spoke, he noticed a slight increase in the light caught his attention. He glanced over his shoulder, just in time to see a large shooting star fall to pieces and extinguish.