Long Road Home – Chapter Ten
Author owns no rights to Firefly, receives no pay for his stories
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Serenity settled gracefully onto the pad at Guilford's, Inara's gentle touch bringing them to a soft landing. Mal beamed in pride at his ai ren's skillful handling of the ship. She had developed into a fine pilot.
"She's good, sir," Zoe smiled beside him. They were in the cargo bay, waiting for Inara's word they were down.
"We're on the ground," he voice floated over the com. "Shutdown."
"Good work, bao bei," Mal answered, and hit the door release. A work crew was already waiting for the empty crates that Serenity carried, and, at Mal's nod, went to work. He stepped off the ramp, heading for the office, and the infirmary. Zoe stayed with the ship. They had decided that until the others returned, one of them would be aboard at all time, save in an emergency.
It had been two weeks since the fire. They had made two uneventful trips, and Mal was wondering if, maybe, Withe and his associates had decided to move on. He couldn't bring himself to believe it, but he could hope.
After checking in with Harwell, and discovering that another cargo was ready to go as soon as Mal was ready, he headed for the infirmary. While technically no longer part of the crew, Mal would always feel a responsibility for Simon, and felt the need to check on him.
As he entered the infirmary, he saw Simon working on an employee's hand, stitching up a nasty cut. He took a seat to wait.
"Keep this clean," Simon ordered as he finished, "and for the first three days, keep it wrapped. I've written you a slip for other assignment. I don't want you anywhere near that machine until the stitches are out. Okay?" The man nodded, taking his slip and a bottle with some pain meds, and exiting.
"How was your trip?" Simon asked, removing his gloves.
"Quiet," Mal smiled. "Calm."
"Quite a change from here, then," Simon grinned. "Everyone all right?"
"Fine," Mal assured him. "All said hello, by the way."
"Any word?" Simon didn't have to say who he was talking about.
"No. 'Spect they're well on the way back by now."
"How do you know?" Simon asked.
"Well," Mal crossed his legs, "if the ship wasn't a good one, they'd already be back. If it was, and they bought it, then it would take a couple days to round up the parts and tools and such that Kaylee would need for the new ship. And I figure they won't run her too hard coming home, so I'm allowing three weeks for the trip back. If all goes well, I figure to see them back in a week, ten days."
"All never goes well with you, Mal," Simon sighed.
"Why I ain't with 'em," Mal laughed. "And I know they bought the ship, cause I got a notice that thirty-nine hundred credits had been deducted from my account, on a draw from the dealer. Turns out they got the price down by over a thousand credits."
"Well, that's something," Simon nodded in appreciation. "Good savings."
"Yep. Think I'll send them three on all our business negotiations from now on." At Simon's look of alarm, Mal laughed.
"Relax, Simon. Ain't planning on buyin' no more ships. Least not for a while. Be all we can do to manage two."
"Never saw yourself as owner of a shipping company, did you?" Simon smiled.
"No, can't say as I ever did," Mal replied seriously. "Then again, I never figured on finding this deal, either. We literally stumbled into it."
"Well, things are good, at least for now," Simon agreed. "I hope that we'll be able to get back to our new normal before long. I miss the house. And I miss Kaylee something terrible."
"I am sorry, Simon," Mal told him quietly. "But no one knows better than Kaylee if a ship can make it or not. Wouldn't have done me a bit o' good to go look at her, without Kaylee. This way, at least you still got me," he ended with a smile.
"For which I am so thankful," Simon rolled his eyes, but laughed as he did so.
There had been a time when the two men could probably not have been able to talk this way. Their relationship had started out strained, and kept going that way. But settling on Argo had changed all of them for the better. It felt good to have a steady job again, and to have at least the semblance of a normal life.
"What do you plan to do, Mal?" Simon asked. "Are you going to go back to living on the ship. Or ships, I guess I should say."
"For a time, it might be best," Mal said thoughtfully. "I don't want to spread us out where we're vulnerable. And I don't aim to give up what we've fought so hard for, either. We've earned this, Simon. All of us have. And, I'd like the think, we deserve it."
"I agree," Simon stated firmly. "Our lives are dramatically better than they were just six months ago. I don't want to give that up, either."
"We may have to fight to keep it," Mal warned. "I don't expect that to include you, this time. Folks around here might turn a blind eye to some things, but you're the only doctor for fifty miles in any direction, and more in some. Folks won't take kindly to having their doctor abused. Not by normal ruffians like Withe and them."
"Several people have said as much to me in passing," Simon agreed. "On the one hand, I feel bad about that, but I can't deny it gives me a sense of security."
"Don't let that lull you into carelessness," Mal warned at once. "Withe in particular is wary o' Jayne. He knows by now that our muscle is off world. I'm thinkin' he'll want to make his play before they get back."
"So, no going off alone. You need something from town, you get Harwell send someone to get it. Medicines and the like. And let's not be makin' house calls, either, now I'm thinkin' on it. Just cause Withe won't move on you here, don't mean he won't take the opportunity if he catches you out, and alone."
"I've already decided that myself," Simon nodded. "With all of you on ship, I'm pretty alone here. So I stick strictly to the infirmary for the most part, and one of Harwell's security men are usually nearby. And," he added, "I've still got my gun."
"Good," Mal nodded. "Well, I best get back. They're loading another cargo right now. We'll like as not be an extra day gettin' back this time. We'll need to take on fuel this trip, and need a short stand down for maintenance."
"Watch yourselves," Simon advised. "All this quiet seems too. . ."
"Quiet?" Mal finished for him. "I know. Bothers me too." He rose, and started for the door.
"See you in a week or so."
"I'll be here," Simon promised.
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Jent Withe was a surly drunk. And he was drunk most of the time these days. He fumed at the way things had gone. He'd taken coin from Zhang to balk on hauling Guilford's freight, and the promise of work a plenty when the 'merger' was complete.
He talked Ball and Jenkins into the deal as well. Now, with no more coin from Zhang, and no work from Guilford's either, the larder was running bare. They were living hand to mouth, taking what small jobs they could get, but it wasn't nearly as good as workin' regular, and gettin' real food thrown in as part of the bargain.
Now that hundan of a sheriff was turning against him. How was he to know that Reynolds and his bunch had already moved from the house? But they had, and now the sheriff was faced with an arson case. And a landlord complaining loudly about it.
He'd have to do something, and soon.
Which meant that Withe had to do something. He was sure that he could bet back in with Harwell, if Reynolds was out of the way. Harwell might not like him, or the others, but he had product to be moved, and would see reason.
The problem was getting Reynolds out of the way. This seemed like the perfect opportunity, what with that damn merc killer of his off world. But he'd be coming back soon. Once he was here, all the intimidating in the world would be useless.
He had to hit Reynolds where he was weak, but with all his crew aboard ship, and usually off world, that was easier said than done. That pansy doctor of his was working at Guilford's, but he was untouchable. If folks nearby ever found out he'd damaged the doc, they'd lynch him from the nearest tree. Good doctors was hard to come by on Argo, and he was better than just good. And popular.
He looked at Jenkins and Ball, sullenly drinking beer at his expense.
"Either o' you two geniuses come up with a way to rid us o' this mess?"
"Seems as we ain't the ones what got us in this mess," Ball shot back. "As I recollect, it was you what set us on this course. So it's you better fix it, and fast."
"He's right," Jenkins snarled. "I got crew that's right anxious for coin, and I got none for 'em. This was your plan, and we followed you. You put us here, so you can damn well get us out again."
Withe bit back a retort. He managed these two by working them against each other. It appeared that they had caught onto that, or at least were driven together by desperation. Either way, he couldn't take the pair on his own.
"We gotta find a way to get rid of Reynolds," he said, looking at the others. "If we don't, then things ain't gonna change. Harwell's made that plain."
"Maybe we ought be leanin' on Harwell, then," Jenkins offered.
"That'd be real smart," Withe growled in reply. "Bein' as we're trying to get back in his good graces."
"And with that crew o' Reynolds' backin' him, he ain't like to feel very pressured, either," Ball threw in. "Not after they handled Zhang so easy."
"Beats just sittin' here, doin' nothin'," Jenkins said, but without any fire.
"We gotta get to his crew," Withe said suddenly. "Reynolds sets store by his crew. Specially that fancy woman o' his, and that engineer."
"That could work," he agreed, reluctantly. "But if it didn't, we'd be askin' for payback. Reynolds has got some right nasty folk workin' for him," he pointed out.
"And they ain't on planet at the moment," Withe pointed out. "Nor likely to be for a while longer. Word has it that Reynolds sent that merc, his bit of a girlfriend, and that cute little engineer o' his to look about buyin' a new ship."
"Wants all the work for hiself, then," Ball grumbled. Withe nodded.
"That's it. We aim to do anything, we got to do it soon, or move on."
"I ain't one to move on when good work's to be had nearby," Jenkins stated. "I'm in," he added, looking to Ball.
"Fine," he nodded. He had a bad feeling though.
The three men left the table, and went to make a plan.