It was supposed to have been an easy job. Simple. Camille would slip into her target's private rooms while he was out, poison his alcohol, and be out without anyone knowing security had been compromised. It was something she'd done before with no problems, and this job had no reason to be any different.
It wasn't as if she were at fault. Her groundwork had been faultless. For three weeks, Camille had studied her target. He'd an admiral in the Alliance, distinguished himself in battle multiple times, and was discharged with highest honors after an injury that could not be repaired. Nowadays he taught at a military academy and had a myriad of side hobbies that ranged from small arms dealing to slave trading that kept the credits rolling in. The admiral was completely corrupt, ruthless, and utterly heartless.
There were many reason to assassinate him, but the reason Garrison Pike--her savior and employer--had given Camille was the colony scam the admiral had run on the Outer Rim just the year before. Over three hundred colonists had been recruited to colonize a newly terraformed planet. Admiral Lawson had promised each a herd, plenty of supplies to start out with, two hundred credits each, and homes already built. They were flown on the admiral's private fleet and dropped off with everything they needed.
Unfortunately, everything they needed was also diseased and dying. The colonists were forced to purchase everything new from a company the admiral held the majority stock in; those who refused didn't last the first month. Everyone would have died, in fact, had Garrison not intervened.
An easy job.
After her three weeks of study, Camille had known everything about her target, from his preferred tea to his daily schedule to what hand he held his dick with when he took a piss. She also knew that at sixteen hundred hours on the eight of June, Admiral Lawson had an appointment with a Companion. They would meet in her shuttled, which was going to be parked on the roof of is apartment building, leaving his room deserted.
Everything was planned down to the last second and the plan relied on the fact he'd be out of his rooms when Camille went in to do her work. Which was why, when the admiral walked back into his room at ten minutes after he'd disappeared into the Companion's shuttle to find Camille poising his favorite wine, Camille was taken completely off guard.
At first, he didn't even react. After all, she was barely five foot two, which was hardly imposing. Plus, she was very obviously a woman and her clothes--designed for ease in scaling up the side of the building and slipping through small spaces--did nothing to hide that fact. He wasn't ready for her attack; men of his class were used to curvaceous women being genteel and helpless, not threatening.
Camille, though, belied any expectations. While he was still standing there, gaping at her, she tucked the poison in the edge of her sleeve and launched herself at him.
Her elbow drove into his neck, just below his Adam's apple. Gagging, he took a few steps back, one beefy hand lashing out and catching her across the face. Camille turned away from the blow, stumbling a few steps; she blocked the next punch he threw and got a strong jab into his doughy stomach.
"Who are you?" he demanded.
She gritted her teeth and did a side kick to his knees. The admiral, though, saw it coming and stepped aside. His fist smashed into her cheek once again and he kicked her standing leg out from under her. Camille slammed to the ground, catching herself on her arm. In the next moment, she found herself pinned to the floor his knee pressed crushingly into her breastbone.
"Answer me," Lawson said, leaning hard into her.
Camille coughed as her airway was restricted. Grasping his leg, she took as deep a breath as she could, braced herself, then kicked her legs off the floor. She almost didn't make it, but he was taken by surprise and let up on some of the pressure; her right foot connected with the side of his head and he released her, allowing her to roll away.
She scrambled away got to her feet, but as she palmed the vial from her sleeve, the admiral kicked her in the small of her back, sending her flying across the room. She smashed into the dresser, a sharp corner catching her on the forehead. Stars from the impact and pain flashed across her eyes; Camille blinked and shook her head. When she felt steady, she turned, ready to attack again.
The knife slipped into her skin before she could react. She gasped in pain, eyes wide.
Lawson laughed. "Well, little girl, that's what you get for playing with the big boys," he said. His hand grabbed the front of her shirt and tugged her foreword, knife still in her side. "Who sent you?"
Camille wrapped her hands around his wrist, more for support than anything else.
He twisted the knife. "Who? Was it Renfield? Lee? Suriyawong?"
"You have a lot of enemies, don't you?" Camille smiled and looked up at him as smugly as she could.
"One doesn't make it as high as I have without accumulating some," he replied. "Who was it that sent you, child?"
Jerking on his arm, Camille lifted herself off the ground and over. Both legs kicked him in the face as she cartwheeled over him, landing neatly on the other side.
The blows affected him, and he stumbled dizzily. The knife was still in his hand, bright red and dripping blood. Camille eased herself into a fighting stance and, as Lawson lurched towards her, she delivered a vicious roundhouse kick to his head.
He fell like rock. Quickly, Camille straddled his body, uncapping the poison which was still in her hand. She dumped it directly onto his tongue, not noticing as he sank the knife into her once more.
It was his final act.
Unfortunately, he died with her blood on his shirt. Since the poison was untraceable, she had to get rid of the evidence that she'd been there. Camille changed his clothes, wrinkling her nose at the soft, pale mass of skin of an admiral who'd let himself go. His shirt was used to bind her wounds, which were bleeding furiously. As she climbed down the side of the building into the deserted alley below, she could feel the bandage grow wet and soak through to her shirt. By the time she made it to the bolt hole she was feeling the affects of the blood loss.
"Hang in there," she told herself as she pulled off her wig. Her short red hair was in pin rolls, which she quickly tugged out, scattering the pins to the floor. No one but Garrison's agents ever used the bolt hole, and they all understood that sometimes, their just wasn't enough time to clean up after a job. She was sorry to see the wig go, but she had others, both in her bag and in other bolt holes on other planets.
The climbing clothes she traded for a loose fitting flannel shirt and cargo pants. She popped brown contacts out to reveal her own blue eyes; the make-up she'd worn to disguise her features was washed off along with blood and replaced by a light layer of powder, enough to minimize the worst of the bruises without concealing them completely; with the rate she was losing blood at, she didn't have time to do a complete cover job.
She tied another layer to her bandage, stuffed clothes, food, money, and supplies into her already packed rucksack, and left the bolt hole. The world was beginning to spin around and she was shivering from shock-induced cold. She was definitely going to need medical attention very soon.
But that was going to have to be secondary. Her original plan was to leave Persephone tomorrow just in case something went wrong. Now that it had gone wrong, she needed to get the hell off planet fast.
Kaylee loved Simon and River to itty bitty bits. Really, she did. And she didn't regret nothing about them coming aboard Serenity, neither. Not even getting shot, or being scared out of her mind when that psycho threatened to rape her. She wouldn't trade anything for them.
Only, sometimes, she missed being able to take on passengers like they used to. Passengers with stories and histories and new faces and jokes and all. She understood why it was safer not to let any strangers aboard, but that didn't stop her from missin' them.
Which was why she'd been surprised when, that morning, Mal had told her to keep an eye out for potential passengers.
"River can help you suss out the safe ones," Mal'd said as he strapped on his holster. He, Zoe, Wash, and Jayne had headed out to pick up the cargo they were hauling to Dyton Colony. Mal and Zoe made and finalized the deal yesterday while Kaylee had spent the day tuning up Serenity. Now, the ship was ready to go, they were full on all but medical supplies, which Simon was out buying, and all they needed was the actual cargo and, apparently, passengers, and they were ready to go.
And had been ready to go for three hours now. Three hours of sitting outside Serenity, watching people walk by their ship, and not one person had been right for them. At least, they hadn't been right in River's eyes, and who was Kaylee to argue? She weren't the psychic one, or the genius. And, as the captain was so fond of pointing out, she tended to think there was good about everyone until they proved otherwise. She just weren't naturally suspicious.
"Her," River suddenly said, sitting up. She'd been laying back with her head in Kaylee's lap, basking in the sun while Kaylee had gently worked tangles out of her long hair. Now her eyes were open and she was pointing at a small, red-haired girl slowly making her way through the crowds of the Eavesdown Docks.
Kaylee's breath sort of caught in her throat, and for a moment, she was jealous, wondering if River had pointed out the girl because she was so pretty. Kaylee was River's first relationship ever, and even though River loved her, she was young and, well. First relationships didn't always work out.
The moment passed and Kaylee shook her head, embarrassed at her thoughts. River was just bein' River; she always appreciated beauty in other girls. That didn't mean she'd ever do anything about it, not while she was with Kaylee. There was no reason to worry.
"Her?" Kaylee repeated, urging River off her lap.
"Yes." River was very certain, very sure. Her eyes never left the girl, and she had a look of intense concentration on her face.
"All right." Kaylee stood and sort of brushed dirt off her coveralls. "Hey," she called gaily, walking down the ramp.
The girl glanced over her shoulder at the greeting, and stopped when she realized that Kaylee was talking to her.
Wow. She really was beautiful, like the way Simon was, all creamy smooth skin and startling intelligent eyes. And when she took a few steps towards Serenity, she seemed to float, like River. Something about her screamed Core-breeding, but when she spoke, her voice had a soft lilt that sounded like home to Kaylee.
"Hey," the girl said. Her eyes scanned the ship and her lips curved into a smile.
"My name's Kaylee and this is River," Kaylee said. She frowned slightly at the bruises and blood on the girl's otherwise unblemished skin. The girl had been used rough, no doubt about it, but she seemed unafraid of her surroundings even though the docks could be a pretty rough lace. "And this here is Serenity, available for passage is you need."
"Where you headed?"
"It doesn't matter," River said. "You don't care. You want to get away."
The girl arched an eyebrow and looked appraisingly at River. "Yeah, I guess you're right." She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "I'm Camille." Her smile seemed to falter a moment, and she hugged her arms tightly around her waist.
"Nice to meet you, Camille." Kaylee stuck out her and shook Camille's. The girl's hands were ice cold. "You ever fly in a Firefly before?"
"No, but I've always wanted to. I've got some friends who are pilots, and they tell me you never have a sweeter ride. You the pilot? Or the captain?"
"Neither. I'm the engineer. Captain is Malcolm Reynolds, and a better captain you'll never find."
"That's reassuring to hear. So, you the pilot?" Camille smiled at River, and Kaylee had to stop herself from bristling. The smile that was directed at her girlfriend was just a little too flirtatious for her liking.
River smiled back and shook her head. "I'm not. My brother is the doctor, and I travel with him."
"And a right help he is, too," Kaylee said. "Seems like we're always getting busted up somehow, and Simon's a genius at what he does. He used to be a surgeon in the Core before he came out here."
"Do I hear my praises being sung?" Simon said, emerging from the port crowd swirling around Serenity's gangplank. He was carrying bags that stuffed with all sorts of stuff, from medical supplies to fresh vegetables.
Kaylee grinned at him. "We have a new passenger, Simon. Meet Camille."
Camille smiled as Simon stopped next to her. "It's very nice to meet you, Camille," he said, shifting the bags so he could shake her hand. He frowned sharply once her hand was tucking inside his, and his eyes swept over her body. "Are you..."
"Everyone back, little Kaylee?" Mal asked as the mule broke through the crowd.
"Yes, Captain. We're just waitin' on you."
He nodded, and jumped of when he saw Camille. "Good. We're shipping out as soon as we're loaded. Jayne, Zoe, get the cargo stowed. Wash.."
"I'll go start her up," Wash replied as he pulled the mule to a stop.
Jayne and Zoe started unloading the cargo, strapping it down tight.
"This a passenger?" Mal asked as the rest got to work. He hooked his thumbs in his suspenders and nodded at Camille.
"Yes it is. Camille," Kaylee said. She put her hand on Camille's back. "This is Captain Reynolds."
Camille held out her hand. "Captain."
"Got a last name?"
"Bowling."
"Can you pay?"
"How much you charging?"
"Fifty credits'll get you Beaumonde with a quick stop-over at Dayton Colony for us to drop off our cargo. Should take about four weeks, if that's okay."
"That's fine. But what if we get to Beaumonde and I decide I want to keep going?" She smiled at his puzzled expression and shrugged. "I've been feeling wanderlust, especially lately. Like I could just keep on going for a bit."
Mal frowned and studied her. His eyes scanned her face; as he studied her, Camille wrapped her arms tighter around her stomach and hunched her shoulders.
Kaylee stepped closer to Camille, feeling suddenly protective. The girl had seemed confident before, but that confidence had melted away. Probably was a man who'd used her so bad, and while Kaylee knew her captain was the best man in the 'verse, he was awful big, especially when compared to Camille, and he could be real intimidating.
"Well," Mal said slowly, shaking his head.
"I'm willing to work, Captain," Camille said. Even if I'm paying passage, I feel skittish if I'm not doing something useful."
Fastest way to Mal's heart was to offer a hand. Next to Alliance and slavers, he hated useless people. Kaylee knew that Camille had gotten passage for as long as she needed, so long as she kept her word and worked, of course.
"All right," Mal said with a nod. He grabbed the handle of her bag and shoved it toward Kaylee and River for them to carry. "Welcome aboard, Miss Bowling." Then he turned to head up the gangplank.
"Thanks." She called at his retreating back. Then she turned back to Simon. "No painkillers."
"What?" Simon said, startled.
"No painkillers," she repeated urgently. She swayed on her feet, and her left hand pulled away from her side.
"Oh my God!" Kaylee exclaimed, hands flying to her mouth. Camille's hand was bright red, and her shirt was soaked through.
"No hydrozopam, ibuprofen, acetaminophen, aspirin, diacetylmorphine, morphine, nothing. Got it?"
Simon dropped the bags he'd been holding, and he pulled her shirt up. Underneath was a blood-soaked bandage, crimson with more blood than Kaylee thought possible to be in anyone still standing. "You need stitches," Simon said, eyes on the bandage. "I have to..."
"You'll kill me," Camille said flatly. She swayed on her feet and added, "Trust me."
"Trust her, Simon," River said. She had one arm around Camille now, keeping her from falling
"Very well," he said, obviously unhappy. He sounded like he did every time Mal popped a stitch or when Jayne went through his supplies. "No painkillers. I promise."
Camille smiled wanly. "Thank you." Then she blacked out.