Unneeded Chapter Three
Author owns no rights what-so-ever to Firefly, nor the universe in which it lives. He writes solely for his own amusement. It's okay not to sue him.
Aramis was still the same as Jayne remembered it. The place they landed was fairly representative of the entire moon. Dusty, with scrub grass and bush strewn around. High rock formations jutted out in places, looking out of place among the relatively flat land. Jayne surveyed the area for a minute, then nodded.
"I'll take that rock outfit over there," he motioned to a high rock outcropping about one hundred yards to the west. "Keep a com open, so's I can hear. And I need some kinda verbal signal, somethin' you wouldn't usually say. That'll mean I need to start shootin'."
Taggart looked at him for a moment, his appraisal of Cobb going up several notches.
"Good idea," he nodded. "I ain't like to say. . .nice weather ain't it? How's that?"
"That'll be fine," Jayne grinned. "No chance I'll miss that. I'll be movin' then." Without anything further, Jayne hoofed it toward the rock formation. He wasted no time, hustling to get into position before anyone showed up.
His hustle paid off. By the time he was settled in, there was dust on the horizon.
"Inbound," he said over his com. "Dust to the east. Fair passel o' folks, looks like."
"Thanks, Jayne," Mike called back. "I'll leave the com on startin' now." Jayne settled in, hefting Vera up to try and get a look at the approaching vehicles.
There were three heavy mules, all towing trailers, and another with a gun mounted on it. Jayne marked that as his first target if something happened.
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Taggart and Jamie stood at ease at the base of the cargo ramp. They had already off loaded the cargo, with Jerry's assistance. Jerry was now out of sight in the cargo bay, ready to back them up, if needed.
As the vehicles approached, Taggart's itchy spot started again. He absently scratched the back of his neck, still looking at the approaching mules. Jamie noticed this, and, without a word being spoken, moved a few feet away from his boss. It was a casual sort of movement, looking as if he just wanted to be in the shade of the ship.
Which he did. It would let him have a slight advantage when the shooting started.
The mules stopped about twenty yards from the Valkyrie, and three men dismounted, walking slowly toward the ship.
"You Taggart?" the man in the middle asked. He was older, a shot of gray at his temples. His eyes were hard.
"I am," Taggart nodded. "You Samuels?" That was the name that Berry had given him as his contact.
"I am. Colonel Samuels," the man added. Taggart nodded.
"Well, we got your shipment here," Mike waved at the boxes neatly stacked on the ground. "'Spect you got somethin' of a monetary nature for us?" Samuels said nothing, turning to wave at his men. Six more men dismounted, moving toward the boxes. Samuels turned back to Taggart.
"You were well paid up front," he said. "There's no more coin coming to you." Jamie sighed.
"Well, now, that's surely a problem," Taggart said, scratching his neck again. "See, we was promised half up front, half on delivery. You ain't aimin' ta pay, then we got us a problem. I'll have to return this as 'delivery refused', on account o' we don't work for free."
"I don't think you understand," Samuels shook his head. "We're takin' our supplies, and leavin'. Be glad that's all we're takin'."
"I'll say it one more time," Mike sighed loudly. Jerry raised his rifle from his hidden vantage point, drawing a bead on Samuels. Jamie didn't heft his own rifle just yet, but did feel to make sure the safety was off.
"We was promised half on delivery," Mike went on. "Ten K platinum. You ain't aimin' ta pay, then I ain't aimin' ta give ya the cargo. That's as simple and straight forward as I know how to say it."
"Don't be a fool, Taggart," Samuels snorted. "We got you outnumbered, case you ain't noticed."
"Nice weather we havin', ain't. . . ." Mike didn't get finished before the man on the armed mule catapulted off the vehicle, his head mostly missing. No one moved.
"Hold on, now," Taggart called loudly. Jayne heard him, and held the trigger at half pull. "Ain't no need o' all this. All we want is our money for a job done in good faith. My men don't much like bein' put upon, that's all. What's it gonna be, Colonel?"
Samuels was nearly quivering in fury. One of his men was down, and there was no tellin' where the shot had come from. Damn that Berry.
"We still have the numbers on you," Samuels said, trying to keep his rage out of his voice.
"Make your move then, Colonel," Mike shrugged. He was tired of talking.
One of Samuels' men obliged, only to be blown near in half by Vera. And then, there was shooting all around. Jamie raised his own rifle, Matilda, and shot the nearest two men before diving for cover behind the carefully arranged crates in front of him. Jerry shot Samuels right between the eyes before the 'Colonel' could give any orders. Mike drew his pistol, shooting the man to Samuels' left before diving behind the crates himself.
Six men down, and nothing to show for it, their leaded dead in the sand, the others began to run for it. Mules fired up and headed out, leaving the men on the ground running to catch up. Vera boomed again, and one of the mules coughed, then died, smoke billowing up from the engine compartment. Jamie shot the two men still on the vehicle as they tried to dismount.
Jerry fired on the men still on the ground, killing one, and wounding another. Taggart snapped off several shots, not caring whether he hit anyone or not, so long as it kept them running.
"That's enough!" he called loudly, just as Vera boomed again. One of the men running away pitched forward, a hole in his back, and a corresponding larger one in his chest.
"Jayne! Enough!" Taggart called again. Cobb didn't answer, but there were no more shots. Mike walked to the one man still living, kicking his gun away from him.
"What the hell?" he asked, not really expecting an answer. "We brought your cargo, all of it. All's you had to do was pay us our due. Why do this?" The man spit at him, though it fell short.
"Independents, huh?" Taggart scoffed. "Who you aimin' ta fight? Kids? Women? Cause you sure ain't able to fight no men, that's fer damn sure." Raising his pistol, Mike fired one round into the man's head. Turning back to his crew, he called out.
"Anybody hit?"
"I'm good," Jamie said, as if he couldn't believe it."
"Fine here, boss," Jerry called, walking down the ramp.
"Cobb? You okay?" Mike called over the com.
"I'm good," Jayne said quietly from behind Jamie. All three men jumped at that.
"Yesu, Jayne!" Jamie almost screeched. "Don't be sneakin' up on a man like that!" Jayne grinned.
"Glad to see you, too," he laughed. The others shared it, including Jamie.
"Let's get this stuff re-loaded," Mike ordered. "And then get the hell outta here." The four men made short work of the cargo. Jayne then walked out among the dead, casually searching their pockets for anything of value. And collecting any quality weaponry.
Jamie caught on, and went to help.
"What're ya'll doin'?" Mike called.
"Spoils o' war, Cap'n," Jayne grinned. "Feller had a mighty fine piece o' rifle on him," he kicked one of the dead men. "He ain't took near good enough care of it, but it ain't nothin' a bit o' tender lovin' care won't set to right."
"Lookie here!" Jamie called, hefting a belt with a nice pistol, and a full kit for it. "It followed me home, Cap'n. Can I keep it?" Taggart laughed, shaking his head.
"I suppose. You two finish up, quick like. I want gone from here in ten minutes."
"You got it, Cap'n," Jayne and Jamie said together. They quickly completed their search, finding a decent sum of money, ammo, and taking about half the fire arms.
"Not that one, kid," Jayne ordered as Jamie stripped a pistol from one of the men.
"Huh?" Jamie looked up. "Why come?"
"That's an Alliance Military pistol," Jayne told him, searching Samuels. "Ain't no one but them gets'em. You get caught with it, means a jail sentence. . .well, lookie here," he cut off, holding up a fair sized leather bag. One that jingled. He turned, tossing it to Taggart.
"Be willin' ta bet that's the other half o' your payment, boss," he said, smiling. Mike took it, looking inside.
"Well, how 'bout that," the Captain smiled. "Guess we get paid after all."
"C'mon, kid," Jayne turned back to Jamie. "We done got all we can. We'll divy up on the boat."
"Really?" Jamie looked surprised.
"Sure. We'll look everything over, then I'll toss ya fer first pick. Deal?"
"Deal!"
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Mal eyed the little moon below with a jaundiced eye.
"Looks like a real back water, sir," Zoe observed.
"Don't it?" Mal looked at her. "I ain't never been here a'fore, neither."
"Brolin," River toned. "Population less than three hundred thousand, moon-wide. No exports to speak of. Very little in the way of industry. Primarily agrarian society. High poverty rate. Very high infant mortality rate as well. No military posts. No Alliance presence. Has a higher than normal violence rate, per capita, due to low law enforcement presence."
"Great," Mal shrugged. "Well, maybe we'll get lucky."
"Wish we had Jayne back," Zoe commented slowly. Mal said nothing, but silently agreed.
"We'll let Inara man the bridge, I reckon," Mal ordered. "'Tross, you arm up and come with us."
"Leaving ship unguarded," River spoke.
"Can't be helped," Mal shrugged. "Only other way is to take Serenity to the drop, and I prefer not to do that."
"Very well," River nodded. She started the entry process, and soon Serenity was into the atmosphere, heading for the place Mal had picked out for the drop.
"This shouldn't be nothin' special, anyhow," Mal spoke aloud. "Just some minor farm tools and equipment. Might be we'll pick up some grain or some such to haul back." When the ship settled, Mal looked at Inara.
"Just sit tight, with the ship buttoned up. We'll be back shortly."
"And when something goes wrong?" Inara asked, one delicate eyebrow raised.
"Then we'll improvise," Mal shrugged. "Shouldn't nothin' go wrong." Inara sighed at that, but said nothing. River rolled her eyes, walking to get her weapons. Simon was frowning, but wisely remained silent. Not only would Mal get mad if he said anything, River had taken to hitting him to express her unhappiness when he spoke 'out of turn', as she called it. She hit hard, too.
"Don't worry so, Simon," Kaylee told him, walking up behind him. "She's able to take care o' herself. And the rest of us, comes to that."
"I just don't want her to, that's all."
"Might be it's time you thought on what she wants," Kaylee told him, walking away again.
Great, now Kaylee's mad at me, too. Simon sighed, going to the infirmary to get ready.
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"Okay, here we go," Mal said as a large ground truck, accompanied by a mule similar to their own, approached.
"Truck has three men, mule has three," River said, looking through her binoculars. "All are armed, but nothing heavy it appears."
"Good," Zoe nodded. She would stay back, covering them from the mule. Wasn't her idea, but Mal had insisted. The vehicles grew closer, and slowed. River reached out, searching for any sign of betrayal, but found nothing. Yet.
Mal watched as the vehicles stopped, and a large man with a heavy beard stepped down from the truck. He walked forward alone, the others dismounting, but not following. Mal decided he'd take that as a good sign. River was over to one side, and Zoe behind. Mal was alone out front.
"You Reynolds?" the man asked, looking over River and then Zoe. Mal didn't like that.
"I am," he nodded. "You Perkins?"
"Reckon I am," the man looked back at him. "Got our goods I take it?"
"Right here," Mal waved at the various boxes. "Got our pay?"
"Yup," the man reached into his overalls pocket and produced a pouch, which he handed over. Mal took it, and passed it back to Zoe. She swiftly counted it.
"Looks good, sir," she called, pocketing the bag.
"Wanna look things over?" Mal asked, being polite.
"I already did," the man smiled, and again Mal found himself not liking it. "Looks good." He waved his men forward.
"Well, we'll be goin' then," Mal nodded. "Pleasure doin' business with ya."
"Hang on there," the man said. "We might have a package for you ta take back. You'll need to follow us in." Mal shook his head, aware that the other men were approaching.
"Can't be doin' that," he said apologetically. "Gotta git back to the ship. Happens you do have somethin' for us, we can take delivery there."
"Lookit there," one of the approaching men jogged another, nodding at River. Mal's discomfort grew.
"We're a might short on women-folk," Perkins explained. "Don't mean no harm," he added.
"Fine by me. We'll head on out now, let you boys collect your gear."
"Stand by for a bit, and we'll have a drink," Perkins offered. His men were almost on them, now.
"Don't drink when I'm workin'," Mal said, walking to the mule. River was also headed that way, though eyeing the men warily. Zoe was sitting in back, her shotgun cradled easily in her hands.
"Ain't neighborly to turn down a drink," Perkins frowned.
"Sorry," Mal waved. "Didn't know the rules. Happen we're this way again, we'll be sure and partake. Ya'll take care, hear?"
"Take'em!" Perkins shouted. "Don't hit the women!" he added.
Great, Mal thought, pulling his gun. Makes me the only target.
Gunfire ensued shortly thereafter.
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Perkins and his men had assumed too much. Six of them, against one man, one woman, and a slip of a girl. No problem.
Except when that one woman was Zoe Washburne, and the slip of a girl was an Alliance trained assassin named River Tam.
All six lay dead, blood pooling beneath them. Mal had taken Perkins, Zoe two of his men, and River the other three.
And one of them had put a bullet in Mal. With Zoe driving, they headed back to the ship as quickly as possible, calling Inara and telling here to have the ship ready to leave, and Simon ready to treat a bullet wound.
Mal had taken the round high on the left side of his chest. His armor had caught the worst of it, but part had slipped by, and taken him just under where the shoulder and the chest met. He was hurt pretty bad, but not enough to keep from cussing a blue streak.
Simon met them at the ramp, and helped get him to the infirmary. River raced to the bridge, where Inara already had the ship off the ground, heading for the black. Once River had taken over the controls, Inara ran to the infirmary to assist Simon.
Simon worked quickly and surely.
"It's not too bad," he assured Mal. "Won't be using that arm for a few days, but there's not much damage. You'll be fine."
"I don't get it," Mal shook his head. "I mean, this was 'sposed to be a stand up job."
"Probably woulda been, had it been Jayne along and not me or River one," Zoe said simply. Simon looked up at that.
"What?"
"Perkins, man we met with, paid us fair. Then said they was short o' women folks. When the shootin' started, he ordered his men not to hit me, or River. Stupid," she smiled. "River took three to my two. And Mal's one."
"Hey, he was in charge!" Mal replied to the criticism.
"So he was, sir," Zoe nodded. She left, taking Mal's pistol with her, to clean. Simon finished, giving Mal a smoother for his pain.
"That's not. . .I don't like the sound of that," he said, looking at Mal.
"I didn't either," Mal assured him. "Left me the only one to shoot at. Lucky I just got hit the once."
"That's not what I meant," Simon huffed.
"I know what ya meant, Simon," Mal told him. "Look, I took this job on account o' it was legit. I didn't know 'bout the woman shortage. But we need work to keep eatin' and keep flyin'. Ain't got much choice in that."
"If Jayne had been along, bad as I hate to say it, this wouldn't have happened," Simon said quietly.
"Jayne made his choice," Mal told him. "He's gone. We'll take more care in the future, I can promise ya that. Meanwhile, we got some fuel, and we got paid. We're shiny."
"Are we?" Simon asked the infirmary as Mal left, Inara helping him. "Are we really?"