Easy Tickets

by mal4prez

Serenity has a few guests come aboard, but they're not the welcome kind.

7. Part 7 of 9

Easy Tickets: Part 7/9 (Chapters 19-21)

The Firefly verse belongs to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy,
and the rest. I'm just playing with it, and not making any money.

---

Chapter 19.

Mal raised his hands as a contingent of Alliance troops stomped into the cargo bay, weapons raised like they were storming a fortress. What they were so gorram cautious about escaped him. He and his crew must present a pathetic sight, barely keeping to their feet. And his 'guests' looked even worse; one was dead and two were bound and unconscious, though Will had been making an effort to come out of it. Mal had taken an inordinate amount of pleasure in gagging the man to keep him quiet.

The last person to come through the hatch was an officer with a bunch of fancy pins neatly arranged on his uniform. He inspected the assembled group, and his reaction was more like what Mal expected – annoyance and disgust.

"Which of you is Captain Harbatkin?" the man asked.

"Here," Mal replied wearily. "And you are?"

"Lieutenant Brady." He stepped toward Mal and studied his face with open repugnance. "And which are the people who allegedly took over your ship?"

"The three lyin' down," Mal said, motioning toward them. "Like I said over the comm, we took em out. The rest of these folks are my crew."

Brady's eyes wandered over the group. "And this is everyone on board?"

"There's a boy in the infirmary, got hurt pretty bad – "

"He was a passenger," Simon interrupted. "He got caught in the crossfire."

Mal aimed what he hoped was a subtle glare at the doctor, but Simon kept his eyes on the lieutenant. His face showed nothing but innocent doctorly concern.

"Very well," Lieutenant Brady said. He turned to dole out orders, and his underlings went about removing the three hijackers and bringing in a cargo hauler to carry away the bright blue cylinder. Then Brady turned back to Mal.

"You're very lucky, Captain. If it were up to me, I'd have the bunch of you locked away, and your ship torn apart and sold for scrap. But I've been given another reason to believe your story. For the time being, you will be treated as victims of a crime. You will stay here, and your ship will be locked down and docked to my cruiser. Do not attempt to power up, or I will change my mind and go about things my own way."

His soldiers left with their burdens, and he followed the last of them, but paused in the airlock to turn and add one more detail. "All of you should be prepared to be taken for questioning as I see fit," he said, then his eyes settled on Mal. "I will find out what part you really played in all of this mess."

Brady left the airlock open behind him. Mal walked across the bay and closed it, then he leaned against the control board and studied his crew.

A sorry sight – that's what it was. They all looked back at him dully, like they didn't know what to do. They were too damn tired to move. So was Mal. He was as drained as he could recall being in a long, long time. But he had his job to do. First thing: account for his crew. All of his crew.

He went to Kaylee. She looked at him steadily, but her face was pale and her eyes were rimmed with red. She was holding it together, but Mal knew there'd be repercussions to what she'd done. Poor girl had no idea.

"You know where Zoë and the others are?" he asked.

Kaylee shook her head, but didn't speak.

Mal prodded a little more, speaking as gently as he could. "I think they might have been in a little transport that's been tailin' us. You know anythin' about that?"

She shook her head again and answered softly. "Sorry, Cap'n."

"Mal – " Inara said from Kaylee's side. Mal glanced at her and Inara met his look with a tiny shake of her head. Mal understood – she was telling him to back off, to leave the girl alone. As if Inara understood what Kaylee was in store for.

"I know," he told Inara, then he turned to Simon. "Doc, you feelin' all right?"

"Yes, I managed to treat myself when I was locked – "

"Good," Mal interrupted. "See to Kaylee. Inara'll explain. After that, check out Inara, and the Shepherd. How's River?"

"She's fine," Simon answered. "She stayed out of everything."

As if on cue, River stepped onto the catwalk above them. Mal looked up to her, and she nodded and gave him a smile and a thumbs up. "Good," he said again. There weren't many words making themselves available in his head. He rubbed his eyes, trying to shake off his bleariness. Rest – he needed it, and so did everyone else.

"That's the plan for now," he said thickly, then realized he hadn't explained yet. "Everyone see the Doc, then get to your bunk and sleep, long as you can. I got no idea what's gonna happen next. We need to be ready to handle whatever the Alliance is after."

"You too, Mal," Inara said.

"Me too what?" he asked, genuinely befuddled.

"You should see the doctor, and get some sleep."

Mal nodded. No denying it; he was not in top form. "I will," he replied. "After the rest of you. Now go on."

Mal watched as Inara led Kaylee toward the infirmary. Simon walked beside them, reaching a hand toward Kaylee to help guide her. She pulled away from him. Seeing her react like that brought a hollow ache to Mal's chest. Kaylee had been through enough; she didn't need to be facing questions from the Alliance.

"Inara," Mal called, and all three of them turned back. "You tell Simon and Book what happened, and after that, I'm the one that shot Ray." He glanced around at all of them. "The Alliance asks any a'you, you tell the whole story, all the truth, except I'm the one picked up that gun and used it. You got it?"

Kaylee only stared at the deck, but Inara nodded her understanding. Simon gave Mal a perplexed look, but when Kaylee and Inara continued on their way, he turned to follow with Book close behind him.

.*. .*. .*.

Kaylee leaned against the counter, not contributing a word, as Inara told Simon and Book what had happened on the bridge. When she finished, there was an awkward silence.

"Kaylee?" Simon finally asked.

"I'm okay," she replied. "Y'all are making a big deal out'a nothing, but it's all right. I just did what needed doin'. Any a'you would'a done the same."

Simon wasn't sure what to do. He glanced at Inara, but she looked as helpless as he felt.

"You're not hurt at all?" he asked Kaylee.

"No. The Shepherd and the captain been though much worse. And Inara. You look to them first."

Simon caught Inara's eye again, and this time she gave him a small nod. He went to Book, checking the back of his head, but his attention was still on the two women across the room.

"You sure you're feeling okay, sweetie?" Inara asked Kaylee softly.

"Yeah," the mechanic answered, but she sounded unsure. She let her head tip down. "Well…" she continued, her voice distant. "It's odd… I keep seein' him fall down. I just keep seeing it. He looked like one of them puppets. A puppet that got all his strings cut. The way he just… fell."

Inara moved to take Kaylee's hand, but the girl folded her arms across her stomach, tucking her hands against her sides.

.*. .*. .*.

After the rest of the crew went to the infirmary, Mal took a seat on the stairs. There should be something for him to be doing. Something to check or fix or plan. Anything. But not a single thing came to him.

Maybe it was good enough to just be still and think. There was no emergency on his head now; he had time to get back to all the things he'd set aside for later. He could tie up loose ends. He just had to remember them.

His mind promptly went blank, and Mal sat on the stairs, staring on the deck, thinking about absolutely nothing.

"It happens for a reason," River said from behind him. Mal turned around; he hadn't heard her coming.

"Don't try to fight it," she added, then she came down the last few steps and sat beside him.

"I gotta fight everything," Mal said, his voice tired. "Everywhere I look, it's a gorram battle." He shook his head when he remembered who he was talking to, although it was a little to late to start hiding his weaknesses from this one. She'd seen everything there was to him already, and she'd proved she could handle it. He roused himself enough to smile at her.

"Little crazy girl," he said, his affectionate tone softening the words. "Seems you did some good things for me. Kept the bad guys busy while I was tryin' my best to get myself killed."

"Weren't trying for that. Just didn't understand."

"That I did not. Honestly, I'm still a mite confused." He shook his head. "Hell – I guess it'll clear up in time, with some sleep. But I'm glad you're all right. It's good that someone made it through all this in one piece."

"Happy to help," she said with a solemn nod. "Makes me feel useful."

He smiled at her again. He tended to forget – she was just a girl. Just a teenager trying to figure out her place in this 'verse. "You can help a little more," he said. "You got any idea about Zoë and Wash? And, hell, Jayne too? You know where they got to?"

River didn't answer right away. She turned away from him, and her forehead wrinkled up as she concentrated. Then she put a hand over her eyes.

"So tired," she said. "Bruised inside."

"Zoë's hurt?" Mal asked, alarm sneaking into his exhaustion.

River lifted her hand a little so she could peek out at him. "No – me."

Of course. He felt a little ashamed that he hadn't realized what all this must have taken out of her. "I guess hurts don't always show on the outside, do they?" he asked gently.

She shook her head. "Worst ones never do. Invisible."

She stared at him, and fear and concern snuck into her face. Mal hesitated, then he reached out, put a hand around the back of the girl's head and leaned in to kiss her forehead, same as he would with Kaylee when she was upset.

"You get some rest," he ordered. "And don't you fret 'bout the Alliance. I won't let them get in here and find you, all right? I'll take care of it. You got nothin' to fear."

She nodded to him with big eyes, but didn't move to get up. Mal started to feel a little unhinged by her penetrating and sad-eyed stare.

"Go on," he said with a soft pat on her back, and finally River stood up. She looked down at him for a few more seconds, then turned and headed toward the infirmary.

.*. .*. .*.

Simon was just starting to put a few stitches in the back of Book's head when River leaned in the hatch.

"Captain's broken," she said simply, then, "I'm going to sleep now."

"Broken?" Simon asked, but River was gone already, stumbling toward her bunk.

A soft voice came from across the room. "She's right," Kaylee said. "They done somethin' awful to him."

Simon met Inara's eyes, and he saw the worry rising there. "What did they do, honey?" she asked Kaylee.

"The dark one," Kaylee mumbled, then she corrected herself. "The one in dark. He was just leavin' the bridge. I think he was goin' to see… I mean goin' to try n' hurt you." Kaylee's eyes drifted toward Inara, then away. "Cap'n was all tied up. Gagged. I thought he was dead – he wasn't hardly breathin'."

"Do you know what happened?" Inara asked.

Kaylee shook her head. "No. And I don't think he knew either. He was all… confused. That yāo guài did somethin' bad to him. I know it." Kaylee looked up at Simon, and her voice got stronger. "You take care a' him, kay? You take care a' the captain. And the Shepherd and Inara. They all got hurt so bad."

"But Mal's fine, honey," Inara insisted gently, although it didn't appear to Simon that she was surprised at what Kaylee said.

"And you needn't worry about me," Book said with a smile. "I'm a tough nián mài shān yáng; it takes more than one hard knock to get me down."

"Are you sure you don't need anything, sweetie?" Inara asked Kaylee softly.

Simon watched as Kaylee thought about it. She was pale, so pale her eyes looked bruised.

"I wanna sleep, I guess," Kaylee said. "I just wanna go to sleep… so I don't have to think bout him fallin' no more. I'm so tired, but I don't know if I'll be able to sleep, no matter that the captain says I ought to…"

Inara looked to Simon, and he nodded to her. He'd just finished Book's stitches, so he went to prepare a hypospray with a mild smoother, just enough to induce sleep. He took it to Kaylee, pausing to allow her to stop him if she wanted. She just stood still, and watched while he injected her.

"Would you like to lay down in my shuttle?" Inara asked. "I'll stay with you."

Kaylee gave a distracted nod in reply, and Inara began to lead her out. Simon didn't stop them; comfort from a friend was likely to help Kaylee more than anything a doctor would be able to do. But then he looked more closely at Inara.

"You should come back so I can check those bruises," he told her.

"I'm not hurt, Simon," Inara replied softly, but with a strength he couldn't gainsay. "Just – check on Mal. Don't let him avoid getting help."

The two women left. Book didn't speak while Simon applied a bandage, and for that Simon was grateful. He had a hard enough time concentrating as it was.

He'd told Kaylee to go to the bridge. She'd been standing at the window in the infirmary, her hand against the glass, her eyes glowing warmly in a way that he'd come to take for granted. And then he'd told her to walk into an armed standoff. Whether she'd heard him or not really didn't matter; he could have tried to stop her, but he hadn't.

.*. .*. .*.

Kaylee was nearly asleep before she got into bed. Inara helped the girl remove her boots, then worked off her coveralls and socks. Inara pulled the covers over her and sat on the edge of the bed, looking down on a face that was so young and innocent. If only that innocence could survive ending a human life. Inara shook her head. It was her fault; she could have just shot Ray. She'd had her chance – she could have aimed to injure him. In the end, it would have saved his life, and spared Kaylee as well.

But Inara had thought that she understood him. She'd believed that she could reach him, control him. After all the mistakes she'd made in her life, how could she possibly believe that she could see to the core of any man? She should know by now that she wasn't omniscient, and that every person had complications that couldn't be seen from the outside.

A gentle knock on the hatch roused her from her thoughts. She looked up and saw Mal stepping tentatively into the shuttle.

"Saw you two comin' up here," he explained. "Thought I ought'a come by to check on Kaylee…" His voice trailed off when he caught sight of the girl's sleeping form.

Inara spread another blanket over the mechanic and stood, leading Mal back to the hatch. She turned to him, and almost raised a hand to his face before she stopped herself.

"Have you had Simon look at that?" she asked.

"Book's turn still. I'll be headin' down next."

"Good. I guess you had a… hard time of it here?"

"Wasn't fun," he agreed, then he grinned half-heartedly. "Well, some of it was, but I don't think it was supposed to be."

Inara gave him a questioning look, but he shrugged it off. "How 'bout you?"

She dropped her eyes. "I'll be all right, Mal."

"You bein' truthful about that?" he asked. "Cause I got this feelin' – "

"Mal, it's over, and I'm fine," she said firmly. "I just really need to sleep. I suggest you do the same."

Mal gave her a long look, but at last he nodded and turned away. He looked more than fatigued, he looked crushed, and Inara thought back to what River and Kaylee had said about him. Whatever he'd been through, there was no way he was going to open up to Simon about it.

"Mal," she called after him. "Kaylee said that he – that Will did something to you."

He looked back at her. "She did?"

"Yes. And you were acting a little strange when I – "

Mal turned away. "Girl's been havin' a hard time. She's confused."

Inara didn't have the energy to argue. She watched Mal leave the shuttle, then went to sit on the divan and watch Kaylee sleep.

.*. .*. .*.

Mal entered the infirmary and found Simon organizing medicine and bandages on the counter.

"Book all done?" Mal asked.

"Yes, I'll be with you in just a second."

Mal gave the doctor time to finish whatever he was doing. He stood at the foot of the exam table, arms crossed in front of him, looking at the boy lying unconscious on it.

"I don't normally adopt folks I shoot," Mal said.

"I must admit, I'm a little curious," Simon said. "Why exactly did you?"

Mal looked sidelong at Simon. "It wouldn't a'been so good to counter a lie told to Alliance troops by a certain fugitive medic I'm harborin'."

"I don't suppose I can blame River for that?" the doctor asked.

"She's a talented gal, but she can't put words in a person's mouth. At least, not last I checked."

Simon sighed, glancing at his patient. "She said that he's all right, and that he was blameless in this."

"Blameless, sure," Mal said, "unless you count takin' a few shots at me."

"Really?" Simon stopped was he was doing and looked Mal in surprise.

"I didn't shoot the boy down for the fun of it, Simon."

Mal's voice was tired, not angry, but Simon looked abashed anyway. "No, I suppose not."

Mal changed the subject. "So – everyone's gonna be all right?"

"Book has a concussion, but it's minor. He needed a few stitches, and with some rest he should be all right."

"Kaylee and Inara?"

"I gave Kaylee something to help her sleep. She was… she was acting like it was all right, but I think she's in shock. She's just... she's not a killer."

"Funny what livin' in the Black will make a person do," Mal said.

"Not all that funny," Simon said softly. "She wanted to sleep and I couldn't… It's not the best solution but I couldn't say no to her. I don't know how else to help. The shock is emotional. Other than keeping her hydrated and rested, I don't know how…"

Mal studied Simon's face; the doctor had never been one to show doubt in any matter tied to his profession, but his frustration and helplessness were clear. Mal understood; he felt the same way. He had an idea of how Kaylee must be feeling, but it'd been so long since his soul had been as innocent as hers that he wasn't sure he could be of any help. Killing and death were a part of Mal now; he couldn't imagine life without them.

"Inara?" he asked.

"She's all right."

"And how bout yourself?"

"I'll be fine."

"Broken ribs can take some time to heal."

"I've done what I can. I'll just have to take it easy."

Mal nodded. "You do that."

"Okay, I'm ready," Simon said, looking up from the collection of small syringes he'd just prepared, and Mal went to stand next to him.

"You're lucky nothing is broken," Simon said, looking at the right side of Mal's face where he'd been hit with the butt of his own gun. "These injections will speed the healing of the bruises."

"Thanks," Mal said with a tired grin. "I do hate lookin' ugly."

.*. .*. .*.

River lay curled up in her bed, drifting on the edge of sleep. She heard Book come to his bunk, but he left after only a few minutes. Going to talk to Mal. Make Mal accept help.

That was good. The captain needed help, but River couldn't do it anymore. Too many dividers in too many minds, and busting through them left bruises that were slow to heal. She couldn't take any more.

For a while, she thought she might have to go back to Simon, get him to mix up something in a needle like the medicine he'd given Kaylee, but just as she decided to get up, she finally slipped over the fuzzy line into sleep.

.*. .*. .*.

Simon was quiet while he treated Mal, and surprised at the lack of complaints; the captain had never been a pliant patient. But, right now, he looked to have other things on his mind, and he stood still with nothing more than few small winces.

Simon set down the tiny syringe he'd just finished with and picked up another. "I heard you had some problems."

"Who told you that?"

"Kaylee. She said she found you bound, gagged, and unconscious on the bridge, and that you seemed to not know what had happened."

Mal looked away from Simon, his face pensive. "Bound and gagged?"

"Yes."

"I don't recall that."

"Do you think you might have memory loss?"

Mal didn't blink at the question, as if he were expecting it. That was a more telling answer than what he said. "Wouldn't be a shock if I did," Mal said, then he smiled grimly. "I got my bell rung somethin' fierce."

"Can you tell me what you remember? Of events on bridge?"

Mal looked away, obviously uncomfortable with the discussion. But he didn't refuse to talk about it, as Simon half expected he would. "Well, I, uh… I guess I was a mite loopy right after you woke me up to fly the ship." He looked back at Simon. "You saw that for yourself."

"Yes. You're fortunate you didn't get yourself killed."

Mal smiled. "I had some help from your sister. And from you."

Simon didn't answer for a moment. He was finished, but he inspected the left side of Mal's face, trying to keep the captain there so he'd keep talking.

"What's the part you don't remember?" Simon asked.

Mal's smile broadened to a grin. "If I knew that, it wouldn't be a problem."

"I mean, what happened right before and after the time you don't remember?"

The grin went away as Mal thought about it, and then he took an impatient breath. "I just had a few fuzzy minutes on the bridge. You done yet?"

"Almost. But it would help if we worked out what happened. With the amount of strain you've been under, and the things that happened to you on Oeneus – "

"Look, Simon, I got my head beat and you shot me with drugs, end of story. I got other things to do then humor you while you play shrink."

There'd been a time when Simon might have pushed, but he'd learned that the captain didn't take kindly to it. He decided to let the matter go. For now. He stepped back, and Mal immediately walked toward the hatch.

"Mal – "

Mal turned, and his voice was sharp. "I told you, Simon, I don't want to deal with it right now."

Simon held out a small tube. "Ointment. Twice a day."

Book was sitting outside the infirmary. "Where you off to, Captain?" he asked.

Mal stopped mid-stride, and realized that he had no answer. There had to be something that needed doing, but again he couldn't think of a thing.

"I guess… I guess I ought'a stay here," he said. "In case the good lieutenant comes back." Mal rubbed his eyes as something else occurred to him. "Lăotiān yĕ – I still got no idea where Zoë and them got to."

Book's voice was firm when he replied. "You're not like to find out by sitting around here. I've got it taken care of. Go to sleep."

"But I…"

"Captain, the Alliance will be back, with all their questions that need answers. Are you capable of handling that as you are right now?"

Mal stood with his head bowed. He didn't look up, but he shook his head. Truth was, he wasn't up to a gorram thing at the moment.

"Get some sleep," Book ordered quietly. "I'll send for you as soon as anything happens. I haven't had such a trying time as you have; I'll be fine taking my rest right here."

Mal finally looked up at Book, and felt a wave of the gratitude for the offer. "I'm feelin' near dead on my feet. Thank you, Shepherd."

"It's not a problem, Mal. It's never a problem."

Mal started toward the stairs, but a dull boom stopped him. He turned back toward the cargo bay – Lieutenant Brady was back with his retinue. Mal should have expected another downturn in the situation. Wouldn't be right if things were easy.

"I got it, Shepherd," he said, and he went to the bay with his shoulders slumped.

Brady got right to what he was after without even an antagonistic and condescending how-do-you-do. "I understand that you have a Companion on board," he said.

Despite his exhaustion, Mal was a little startled by the question. He hadn't expected things to go in that direction. "She ain't part of my crew," he replied, "just hires out a shuttle."

"I didn't ask if she was part of your crew. I don't care one way or another. I need her here. Now."

"Look, she ain't had any part in this," Mal said. "I don't understand why – "

"Captain," Brady said impatiently, "bring her here."

Mal frowned at the line of blank-faced armed soldiers behind the Lieutenant, then he stiffly turned toward the comm and called up to the shuttle.

"Inara, you're needed in the cargo bay. The Lieutenant wants a word. "

Her reply was smooth and unruffled. I'll be right down.

Brady clearly wasn't interested in chatting, and Mal lacked the energy to try. They waited silently until Inara's soft footsteps came down the stairs. Mal didn't look up at her, just stared at the deck.

"Yes, Captain?" she asked.

Brady replied before Mal could speak. "You will come with us."

Inara turned to the soldier. "Lieutenant Brady, was it?"

"Correct."

"Am I under arrest?"

"I'm not under orders to arrest you, but I will if necessary."

Mal knew Inara was glancing at him, but he couldn't meet her eye.

"Will I be staying long?" she asked.

"I'm not at liberty to disclose that information."

"Will I need a change of clothes? Toiletries, perhaps? A nightgown?"

Brady looked taken aback, like he hadn't considered that complication. He glanced at the troops behind him, then lifted his chin, as if the discussion of Inara's needs was beneath his dignity. "You may bring one small bag, but it will be thoroughly searched," he said stiffly.

Inara nodded and returned to her shuttle. While they waited, a question occurred to Mal.

"Lieutenant," he said. "I have reason to believe the rest of my crew was tryin' to get to the ship and help –"

"And again you assume I care," the man answered coldly.

"I'd just like to know if they're all right. They were in a small transport, near where you found us."

Brady held Mal's eye for a few seconds before he replied. "They are under arrest for theft of Cartel property, as well as a number of very serious traffic violations. I'm not sure it would be wise to claim them as part of your crew."

"If I could just talk to em – "

"Captain, if you attempt to leave your ship or use your comm, I will have my engineers disable whatever power source you have on this…" he looked around the bay, "…thing and move you all into locked cells. Is that qīng chu?"

Mal didn't answer, just stared at the deck until Inara returned.

"Captain?" she asked.

He replied without raising his eyes. "Yeah?"

"Don't leave Kaylee alone. I promised I'd stay with her, but…"

He looked up. "She'll be taken care of."

"Thank you."

Inara held his eye for a second longer than she needed to, looking hard like she was memorizing his face. Mal stared back, realizing that he'd never even found out how she got that bruise.

Then the moment was broken; she turned and handed her bag to one of the guards and let herself be led from the ship.

After they left, this time closing the door behind them, Mal returned to the back of the bay. Book was standing just out of sight through the hatch.

"I couldn't do anything," Mal said dully.

"No, you couldn't."

"Why the hell they'd take her? What are they gonna do?"

"She's a Companion, Mal. That protects her better than any of us could. Now – go get some sleep."

"I gotta watch over Kaylee."

"We'll take care of that," Simon said, stepping out from the infirmary. "Go."

Mal nodded stupidly. He was barely aware of what he passed on his way up through the ship, and wasn't sure how he managed to climb down the ladder to his bunk and find his way to his bed, but he was out as soon as his head hit the pillow.

.*. .*. .*.

Translations
yāo guài: monster
nián mài shān yáng: old goat
lăotiān yĕ: god
qīng chu: clear

---

Chapter 20.

Inara sat in her cell and waited.

The cell was tastefully furnished and decorated. The upholstery of the soft chair on which she reclined was of above average quality, and the sheets of the small bed pressed against the wall were clean and soft. The overhead light had a warm, slightly yellow glow, not the blueish-white harshness of fluorescence. A sliding door opened to an odorless bathroom which had bottles of liquid soap and lotion of quality brands. Drinking water and, most surprisingly, a bowl of fruit sat on the center of the table in front of her.

It wasn't a cell for ordinary criminals, but it was a cell nonetheless.

A lock had slid shut behind the guards when they left her there. The furniture was bolted down. The fruit bowl and the water bottle and cups were made of a non-brittle plastic. There were no other objects that could be lifted and used as weapons; even the soap and lotion containers in the bathroom were attached to the counter. Inara was fairly certain that there was at least one camera in the room, but she didn't bother looking. It would be small and well hidden.

She wondered what the Alliance was hoping to gain by leaving her like this for so long. Her nerves did a lively dance as she thought about it; she wasn't as blameless as she'd been when she'd left the Core. She'd broken the law multiple times in the past year, and knowingly protected fugitives.

But only a fool would think a Companion would crack under this kind of pressure, would outwardly show guilt. Of course, in the past few days she had proven herself quite capable of careless behavior. Her actions on the Skuld platform showed a shocking lack of control. If that was the reason she was here, it would be the end of her career. She wouldn't go to jail; the Guild was too protective of its members to allow that. But, according to Guild law, she'd lose her license, as well as the respect that is due a Companion after she retires from taking clients. It would, essentially, ruin her life.

And deservedly so. There was no excuse for what she'd done. It was her own fault, really. A Companion must be focused on her client, open and aware of his or her motivations and state of mind. Inara had had plenty of signs of what Peter was; if she'd paid her usual attention, she would have ended the appointment before it reached the point that it did, or at least directed their interaction differently.

There were reasonable, legal ways of dealing with a man like Peter Skuld. But she'd been preoccupied with her frustration over Mal, too busy fuming to see what was right before her. She'd stubbornly forged on, determined to have a successful encounter with her client. As if it would make some kind of statement about her independence, her worth.

She had been self-absorbed and unprofessional. And perhaps now she was going to pay the price.

.*. .*. .*.

River dreamed while she slept.

The medication Simon had given her had worn off, and voices and images flew through her mind faster than she could understand or control. Some of these things came from strangers, people in the bigger ship that surrounded Serenity, but those were far away, and stayed in the background.

The closer minds, the people whose presence dominated her thoughts, were the few left on the Firefly. They were the ones she knew and trusted, and though their dreams were troubling and sad, they were all still here with her, and that was comforting.

Simon's color was red, in many shades that jarred and then blended together. It was the background of the place he slept, curled around himself on the divan. The sofa hadn't been meant for sleeping; the curve of it didn't fit his body and he couldn't straighten fully. He kept getting up, crossing the shuttle and stretching out on the bed next to Kaylee. He'd hold her in his arms so that she'd feel safe, but then he'd remember that she could never be safe with him and the thought would make him wake up with a start to find himself still twisted on the divan. He'd stare across the impossible gulf between himself and the mechanic huddled under the covers on the big, soft bed, and after trying and failing to find a more comfortable position, he'd fall back into his dreams.

Kaylee's color was black. It was the Black outside the windows of the bridge, the darkness she tried to look at instead of letting her eyes follow the man who, again and again, fell to the deck, choked on a few labored, painful breaths, and then lay still.

The captain had no single color. He was a vessel full of holes, and too many things poured in and drained out to be seen. The fragments falling out the bottom of him were caught in a trough and flowed impossibly like an Escher drawing, rushing downhill to cascade off a cliff above his head, falling into him again. There was nothing to stop the stream, and as it passed over and through him it left cuts and bruises and burns.

Book was nothing but a sound. The hollow clank of a hatch being released repeated in his mind just inside his ears. He was waiting for the sound to come in from the outside, to call him into wakefulness and action.

Of course, Jase's color was blue with a sparkling band cutting through it, and River tried to stay with him. But strong currents, currents like those that moved through the captain, drew her away. They carried her around and around in the kaleidoscope of dreams. From time to time, she felt distant sprays of frustration, worry, and boredom from Zoë, Wash, and Jayne, and once she passed through a deep pool of Inara's fatigue and trepidation, but the pressure of the flow always forced her to move on.

.*. .*. .*.

Inara wasn't sure how long she sat. She was tempted by the bed beside her, but she couldn't shake the notion that as soon as she lay down on it, the door would open and the inevitable confrontation would begin. Taking her rest would be like an admission of defeat to those who were watching her.

She knew the idea was ridiculous, but still she couldn't make herself give up the imagined battle. She held herself upright and stared at the bowl of fruit on the table, trying to distract her mind and calm her nerves by picturing the attack she could mount with four apples, three oranges, six plums, and three bananas. She could set up an ambush. Definitely the plums would be the most satisfying – the apples would hurt more, but the plums had the best chance of bursting open and staining the purplebelly uniforms.

She'd managed to work herself into a soft smile when the door opened and a man and a woman entered the cell. They were not in uniform, but their clothing looked uncomfortable and plain enough that there must be some sort of dress code responsible. Civil servants?

"Miss Serra," the man said. "I am Agent Kain. This is Agent Alvarez."

Inara nodded and extended a hand, and was somewhat surprised when they both accepted her gesture politely, if somewhat stiffly. They sat down across from her, each setting a digital data sheet on the table.

The woman, Alvarez, took over the introduction. Her words flowed smoothly, as if she'd spoken them countless times before. "The branch of the government we work for is referred to as the Office of Professional Responsibility," she said. "We investigate incidents and plausible suspicions of lawbreaking and misconduct attributed to officers of the state and those the state contracts with."

Kain leaned his elbows on the table and took a deep breath before he spoke, both gestures serving to realease tension. His manner was less formal than his partner's. "You must be wondering why you were brought here to speak with us," he said with a smile that bordered on friendly. He looked pleasant and non-threatening, with neatly trimmed light brown hair and a cleanly shaven face. But Inara wasn't feeling inclined to return his warmth.

"I might have wondered," she said, "if I had known that speaking with you was the reason I'm here."

"We apologize for the circumstances, and for keeping you waiting so long," he replied. "It's been rather a hectic day."

"For more than yourselves," she replied coldly.

"So it would appear," Alvarez said, seeming impatient with her partner's platitudes and eager to get down to business. "Miss Serra, we understand you just had an… assignation with Peter Skuld." Her tone held just a hint of disapproval.

"'Appointment' is the commonly used word," Inara replied.

The woman tilted her head, expressing her irritation with no attempt at subtlety. "When exactly did this 'appointment' take place?"

Inara felt her chest tighten with apprehension; her time with Peter was the one thing she didn't want to discuss. "Companion-client relations are, by law, a private matter," she replied as calmly as she could.

"I understand that a Companion would want to protect her client," Kain said, and Inara bit her cheek, barely holding in an expression of disgust. That sentiment certainly didn't apply to this situation.

The man continued without noticing her reaction. "There are larger issues at stake here, and you mustn't let your fondness for your client get in the way of your patriotism, your duty to the government which does so much to make your lifestyle possible."

His tone was kind, as if he were speaking to a child he was fond of. Suddenly, Inara understood the roles being played here. The woman, Alvarez, was the aggressive questioner, the 'bad cop,' and the man was the trustworthy friend. It was the obvious approach to take when questioning a beautiful woman, one who specialized in the pleasing of men and might see another woman as competition. Maybe they didn't realize that she took female clients as well as male.

Inara smiled ironically at the thought, which seemed to annoy Alvarez. The woman took over from her colleague, cutting off his lecture on civic duty. "There are indeed serious issues involved," she said sternly. "Attempting to economically destabilize the government by attacking a supply of basic necessities is not a private matter."

Inara arched her eyebrows, and paused just long enough to make them think she wasn't going to speak. Then, just as Alvarez opened her mouth to continue, Inara replied. "If that was an accusation, Agent Alvarez, I'd prefer it be made in a formal manner so I can summon legal counsel."

"That won't be necessary," Kain replied quickly. "We'd just like to discuss the time you spent with Peter Skuld."

Inara barely stopped herself from shifting in her seat. "I wish to have representation present if I'm to be questioned."

The two agents exchanged glances. "There's no need to be defensive," Alvarez said, and she studied Inara closely.

"Then why have you been holding me in a locked cell?"

"It was convenient," Alvarez replied, and she sighed impatiently. "Let's make this easy. Miss Serra; we're well aware of the history of the ship you've been traveling on."

"Oh?"

"Firefly class transport Serenity," the woman said, perusing her data sheet, "owned and captained by one Malcolm Reynolds, not the fictional 'Captain Harbatkin'." She glanced up at Inara, as if looking for confirmation. Inara held her neutral expression, and the woman continued. "Reynolds is an ex-Independent, now a smuggler and small-time thief with a history of civil disobedience, and he was recently questioned regarding terrorist activity on Oeneus – "

"Terrorist activity?" Inara interrupted. "That's ridiculous!"

"Perhaps." The woman set down the data sheet and looked at Inara, holding her stare aggressively. Alvarez's dark brown hair was pulled back in a tight bun, and there was barely a trace of makeup around her olive green eyes. Even so, she wasn't unattractive, and she'd be quite beautiful if she were dressed and styled in a feminine manner. The questioners had been carefully chosen; an unattractive woman would be at a disadvantage. Only a similarly beautiful woman could be properly threatening to Inara.

They really wanted something, and if it was simply to bring assault charges against her, they wouldn't be trying so hard. Inara almost smiled again as she realized that, at the heart of it, she was the one in control of this situation.

Agent Alvarez continued, unfazed by Inara's frank inspection. "I wonder what we would find if we searched the Firefly. We've already identified a number of misdemeanors visible from the outside. Give us half an hour inside that ship, and I'm sure we could have the crew in jail for quite a while, and that would make you an accessory. I can't imagine that a criminal record would be good for your career."

Alvarez didn't look away; she seemed to think she had the upper hand. Inara knew better, but she broke the dueling stare first. She poured some water and took a sip, then deliberately took her time setting the cup down.

"Darling," Inara said to the woman, pitching her voice to roll out like velvet. "I've had a few very, very long days. Don't waste my time with threats. Just tell me what it is you want…" She rolled the base of the water glass in a small circle on the table, making the clear liquid swirl. "…and then I'll tell you what I want in return."

.*. .*. .*.

Book was deeply asleep when the sound of the opening hatch carried into the common room. It was the sound he'd been listening for, and it drew him out of his sleep immediately. He checked the time piece he'd set on the table in front of him; it'd been almost six hours since Mal had gone to his bunk and Simon had headed up to Inara's shuttle to watch over Kaylee. That was more rest time then Book had expected them to get, although the Good Lord knew that they could all use more.

He took a few seconds to straighten his clothing, preparing to talk business with the surly Alliance Lieutenant, then he stepped into the bay. What he saw was not at all what he expected.

Zoë had come through the smaller entrance and closed it behind her, and was now at the control board. The large airlock door slid open, and Jayne's hovercraft came aboard, carried on an orange cargo mover driven by an Alliance worker. A few soldiers stood behind, in the airlock of the Alliance ship, watching casually as Wash directed the driver to set the hovercraft down on the starboard side of the bay. Wash exchanged a friendly handshake with the driver, and waved goodbye to his armed escort as Zoë closed the doors again.

Jayne and a strange man had also come in, and as soon as the door sealed shut they all turned and saw Book.

"Shepherd," Zoë said with casual nod of greeting. "Where's the captain?"

"He's… asleep," Book replied, still not quite caught up with the turn of events. "Everyone's asleep."

"Asleep?" Wash asked dramatically. "Here we are, knocking ourselves out with the big rescue attempt, and we end up in jail while they're all sleeping!"

"Sleep sounds good to me," Jayne said, and set out up the stairs. "I could use some down time. I even got beer left…" He paused and glared at Book. "That is – if no one's been at it."

"Don't worry yourself, Jayne," Book replied. "We've been a little too busy to pilfer your beer."

"Better be the truth of it," Jayne grumbled, "Or someone owes me money." He climbed the stairs and disappeared through a hatch.

"So, seriously," Wash asked. "Is everyone all right?"

"More or less," Book replied. "Except Inara. She's not hurt," he added quickly at Wash's worried expression, "but she's been taken by the Alliance."

"Taken?" Zoë asked.

"About six hours ago. They didn't explain, and we haven't heard a word since."

"Ain't that odd," Zoë murmured.

"How 'bout yourselves?" Book asked. "You doin' all right?"

"Helluva lot better than we were ten minutes ago," Zoë replied. "The captain's in his bunk?" She started up the stairs before Book answered.

"Yes, but…I'm not sure you should wake him."

Book's tone made Zoë stop on the landing and look down at him. "What is it, preacher?"

"He's had a hard time of it. He really needs his rest."

"He can get it later," Zoë said sternly, and she continued up the stairs.

Book watched Zoë go, then he turned back and looked at the tall man next to Wash; there were a lot of tales that needing telling. He pointed at the stranger. "Who's…?"

"Oh," Wash said. "That's right. You haven't met. This is Bucky. We heard there was a big party and thought we'd bring him along. I sure hope there's enough champagne and party favors–"

"Where's Jase?" the man interrupted, making Wash give up his joke. "They said he was here. Is he okay?"

Book saw fear in the man's eyes. He didn't ask any more questions, just guided Bucky to the infirmary.

.*. .*. .*.

Zoë didn't hesitate to push open the door to Mal's bunk and climb down the ladder, then she slapped the panel to turn on the brightest lights in the room. She needed Mal awake – all kinds of oddness had been afoot lately, and she needed to sort it out with the captain.

Mal didn't wake up immediately, which was surprise enough. One learned to wake quickly when in the military, fighting a war. He was stretched out, fully clothed, on top of his bed, but he didn't look to be sleeping peacefully. His face was covered over in sweat, and he was breathing shallow and fast.

"Captain?" Zoë asked. She gave his arm a nudge and he grunted, as if he was having a bad dream. She tried again – it took a good hard shake to rouse him, and then he pushed himself up to sitting, blinking in the bright light and sliding away from her to press his back against the bulkhead.

"What the – " he muttered.

"It's all right, sir. It's me."

His eyes found her. "Zoë?"

"Yeah."

He bent forward, wiping his hands over his face. He was still short of breath. "Where's Inara?"

"Book said she's with the Alliance."

"He ain't heard nothing?"

"Nope."

"They took her away, Zoë. Just took her, and I couldn't do anything. Couldn't hardly move."

"Couldn't move?"

"Zaō gaō! Kaylee – I'm supposed to be watchin' her." He slid across the bed and started to stand up, but Zoë put a hand on his shoulder to make him stay sitting.

"The preacher's keepin' watch, Mal. He said everyone's asleep."

"But, Zoë, I…" His voice trailed off, and he turned his head away, looking confused.

"What is it?" Zoë asked.

He put his hands over his face again. "I dunno. Gōu shī – somethin' ain't right. Somethin' sure ain't right."

She opened her mouth, but then closed it again without asking what he meant. The Shepherd might have had a point, about how the captain needed his rest. "How 'bout you go on back to sleep," she said, "and I'll check in with the rest of the crew."

He shook his head. "No – I can't sleep now. I have to get all this settled. I have to, uh…" He stood up, one hand still on the bed to balance himself, and looked around the cabin. Then he sat right back down, taking a few deep breaths. Zoë waited until he looked up at her.

"Zoë?"

"The one and only. Sir."

"You're on my ship."

"Apparently so."

"How'd that happen?"

"Well, sir, we got ourselves a transport and found Serenity in orbit – "

He waved his hand impatiently, as if telling her to skip ahead. "I figured that part – the Alliance nabbed you at the same time as they got us, right?" Zoë nodded, and Mal looked thoughtful. "Bet your husband was drivin', wasn't he?"

"As he usually is," she replied haltingly, unsure as to why Mal was asking; it was hardly an important detail. But then the captain grinned.

"The good lieutenant said something about traffic violations. Serious traffic violations."

Zoë was relieved by his smile and the way his shoulders had relaxed just a little. She sat down next to him and shook her head sadly. "I tell him to slow down, but …"

"Man never does listen." Mal rubbed his eyes again, as if trying to wake up and pull himself together. His breathing had evened out, but he seemed a little twitchy, like it was hard for him to stay still.

"Last I heard," he said after a bit, "you were all gonna rot in an Alliance cell for a good long time."

"It was looking that way to us, too. But then they let us go. Didn't ask a thing. Didn't even say a thing, just came to get us, loaded up the mule, and brought us here."

"Wash and Jayne?"

"Yep, them too. And we got a guest."

Mal didn't look pleased about that. He didn't look pleased at all. "I'm a little tired of new people on my boat."

"Nowhere else for him to go. He helped us get the transport, and he's under arrest too, for theft."

"I got another criminal on my ship?"

"He ought'a fit right in, sir."

Mal shook his head in resignation, then he stood up again and went to the sink to splash water over his face. "Hell, I guess I better go meet him," he said as he grabbed a towel. "I hope he ain't expectin' a warm welcome."

"Actually, Wash did talk it up a bit…"

"Well then, maybe I ought'a clean up a little." Mal he looked down at himself and wrinkled up his nose. "Go on – I need to change."

"Like anyone on this boat ain't seen it, sir," Zoë said, but she stood up and went up the ladder, giving him time to freshen up.

Swapping light jibes seemed to help Mal get himself grounded, but Zoë'd been watching him closely the whole time. He'd been barely keeping himself calm. She really needed to know what the hell had happened on this ship.

.*. .*. .*.

Mal followed Zoë until she stopped next to Book just outside the infirmary. A stranger was sitting next to the patient bed, his head bowed over a limp hand that he held in both of his own. Mal stepped around Zoë and Book to entered the room, and the man heard him and looked up. His eyes were shining wetly; he didn't say anything, just sat quietly like he was waiting for Mal to take the lead. Mal wasn't sure where to start. He hadn't expected to find his newest guest in tears.

He looked back at the door. "Zoë?"

"I guess… it's a long story, sir."

"I'm Ray's brother," the man said, and his eyes traveled between Mal and Zoë, waiting for a reaction. "My name's Bucky. Bucky Whittaker." When no one answered him, his gaze settled on Mal. "I take it you're the captain?"

Mal crossed his arms, sternly looking down at the man. "That I am. You know that Ray's dead?"

Bucky took a deep breath, then let it out long and slow. He looked at the floor. "I know now."

Mal shifted a little, glancing at Zoë and Book. "We'd best clear the air right now. I'm the one that killed him, and he had it comin'."

Bucky looked up sharply, and Mal dropped his arms to his sides, not sure if he was about to get jumped on. His right hand touched his hip, but he had no gun there; he'd put it away for the duration of his stay with the Alliance.

But Bucky only grunted and looked down again, shaking his head. "I wouldn't be surprised," he said. "He's been askin' for it for some time."

"Well," Mal replied after a confused pause. "I'm glad you agree. But… but that ain't all. You need to understand that I ain't feelin' too kind toward new faces on my boat. I hope you don't think you'll be stayin' long."

The man surprised Mal again when he smiled grimly. "That's some mighty clear air you got in here, Captain." Mal didn't react, but Bucky looked at him and continued, talking slow and tired like a man who'd moved beyond fear. "I got no wish to trespass, but I can't leave this one behind. Not again." He looked at the boy and squeezed the hand he was still holding. "As soon as I get a chance, we'll move along and leave you to your peace."

Mal considered it. "You tellin' me he means something to you?"

Bucky hesitated, then looked down and cleared his throat. "I got good reason to think he's my son."

Mal blew out a breath and stepped back to lean against the counter. He looked at Zoë, who gave him an I-had-no-idea-don't-blame-me shrug. Mal pinched the bridge of his nose, closed his eyes and tried to work it out. Whatever he'd been expecting when Zoë woke him up, it sure as hell wasn't a family reunion taking place in his infirmary.

"Book," he said firmly.

The Shepherd stepped around Zoë and leaned in through the hatch. "Yes, Captain?"

Mal pointed at Bucky. "Keep an eye on him."

Mal went out into the common room and slightly around the corner; Zoë followed. All he needed to do was give her a look, and she set about explaining.

"Bucky's kind of the friend of a friend," she said. "You remember that lady Xiaojun we were goin' to see for parts? Well, we asked her 'bout the kid and – "

Mal held a hand up. "Enough. We'll have storytime later. He trustworthy?"

"I won't be handin' him a gun or puttin' him at the helm, but I think he's all right," Zoë replied. Mal's doubtful expression didn't change, so Zoë continued. "Look, he came with us just because he heard about that kid, and he clearly didn't think much of that fella Ray, blood relation or not."

Mal sighed. "What am I supposed to do with him? I got enough to deal with." He rubbed his eyes and looked beat enough that Zoë again regretted waking him up.

"Captain, there ain't much happenin' right now, and nothing we can do. Let's work out the details later. You're lookin' like you need some more shut-eye."

"I can't have a stranger on my ship unless I know everything I can about him."

"Do you trust me, sir?"

Mal looked her in the eye. "You know I do, Zoë."

"Then go back to bed."

Mal leaned against the outside wall of the infirmary and thought about it. "I will – if you'll do somethin' for me."

"Just name it," she said softly.

"You come and wake me up as soon as you get any word about Inara."

.*. .*. .*.

Zoë didn't answer, surprised at the vehemence of his demand. Mal seemed to realize what he'd said, and how he'd said it, a little too late.

"Look," he continued weakly, "she had a real hard time, I'm just worried…" He sighed impatiently. "Aw, hell with it, think what you want. But let me know, you got it?"

Mal seemed to expect ridicule, but there was nothing about his concern for Inara that Zoë found amusing. Here was something more she needed to know about – what could have happened to make the captain outwardly show this kind of worry?

Zoë finally nodded in reply, and Mal turned and left without another word. She watched him go, and noticed that Book had stepped out of the infirmary as soon as Mal passed by.

"We need to talk," the Shepherd told her.

"Bout what?"

Book pointedly looked the way Mal had gone, then back at Zoë. She nodded and joined him on the sofa in the common space.

.*. .*. .*.

An alarm broke into Inara's troubled dreams. By the time she found the bedside clock and turned it off, the details of the nightmare had already faded, but the grief lingered. She sat in the dim nightlight as her uneasiness slowly faded, and finally she remembered what needed to be done.

She turned up the lights and did the best she could in the cell's small half bath. Not that her appearance mattered, but it was a routine she was accustomed to, and the familiarity of it steadied her.

Agent Kain arrived exactly when he'd said he would, and he led Inara down a few corridors to a large utilitarian office. There were no decorations on the walls, no artwork or plaques, and the floor was of cold gray tile. On the far side of the room, Lieutenant Brady sat at a large desk with his hands folded in front of him.

Facing him were two tables; Agent Alvarez sat at one, her bun and suit just as polished and bland as they'd been the night before. Seated at the other table were a strange man in a suit that screamed high priced lawyer, and Beyla Skuld. Inara had expected to see the woman, and she didn't pause, just took her seat next to Alvarez as Kain took the chair on Inara's other side.

"This is everyone?" Brady asked.

Agent Kain stood up. "We believe the Peter Skuld was involved in the crime as well, but he is currently being held in the ship's infirmary."

Brady appeared to be more annoyed by the man's absence than concerned with his well-being. "The infirmary?" he asked.

"He had an… accident," Beyla explained. Her eyes slid to meet Inara's.

"He's not needed at his point, Lieutenant," Kain said. "We're just trying to show that we have enough evidence to press charges and force extradition to the Core."

"Very well," Brady said. "On with it."

The preliminaries didn't take long; Kain established Inara's identity and had her take the standard oath of truthfulness. Then he began with the questions. It went smoothly; he had worked with Inara earlier and she was ready for each question. He quickly established her profession and the timing of her visit to the Skuld cartel.

"And while you were there," he asked, "did you have occasion to discuss cartel business matters with Peter Skuld?"

"Yes, I did. Nothing detailed."

"Did you discuss mining operations in the Niflheim system?"

"Yes."

"What did he tell you?"

"That there was a new mining and prefabrication scheme in use by the Verdande cartel, and that it was frustrating not to have the legal rights to use it. As I understand it, this is common knowledge."

"Did you hear anything that isn't common knowledge?"

Inara cleared her throat, then held her chin up defiantly. "I heard Beyla Skuld talking about a woman named Ginger."

Inara heard the old woman take a sharp intake of breath, but she didn't look toward the table where Beyla sat.

"What did Beyla Skuld say about Ginger?"

"That she'd found a ship, and should be getting the harvester in the next few hours. Also, that Peter would need to be secretive about getting the harvester to her engineers in the core."

Kain continued without pause. "And what did you find when you returned to the Firefly?"

Inara cleared her throat. "There were hijackers holding the ship. One was named Ginger."

"The others?"

"There was a man named Will. He was waiting for me when I docked and he… he tried to subdue me by force." Inara didn't go into more detail; she didn't want to revisit that scene, not now.

"You're the one who beat him unconscious?" Brady asked.

Inara saw the look of disbelief on the Lieutenant's face. "I'm a Companion," she replied. "I'm trained to handle violence of that sort." She was tempted to stare down Brady's doubt, but she let it go. It was best to get this done as quickly and simply as possible.

"The other man?" Kain asked.

"His name was Ray. He threatened me, held me at gunpoint. That was why we had to flee from the Alliance battleship, and that's why the captain shot him."

Kain turned to Brady. "Lieutenant, do I really need to continue? Surely you see what happened here. You have the evidence of the undercover Alliance agents, records of the calls made by Ginger Larkin to the Skuld platform before and during the hijacking, and now you have testimony from an independent party. A Registered Companion, no less."

Brady nodded, then he sighed, as if steeling himself to take a big step. "It would appear that I have no choice. Beyla Skuld; you and your nephew Peter are under arrest. Agent Kain will prepare a full list of charges before we leave to transport you to Londinium for a full trial."

Brady nodded at two guards in the back of the room, who came forward to stand behind Beyla. Inara sat still, her spine stiff and straight, as Beyla was pulled to her feet. But the woman wasn't ready to leave peacefully.

"You foolish whore," she hissed at Inara. "You don't know what you've done. I needed that harvester, as proof!"

One of the guards grabbed the old woman's arms, and put hard metal cuffs over her frail wrists. Beyla didn't struggle, but she looked from Inara to Brady with venom in her eyes.

"It's his fault," she spat. "The whole world is dead because of Edward Verdande!"

Inara took in a sharp breath and looked up; the woman was vehement – she truly believed her words. The guards began to lead her out of the room, but Beyla had time to finish what she wanted to say. "The chemicals used in the harvester, the by-products, they killed this world!"

Then Beyla was gone, and Inara sat in the suddenly silent room. Agent Kain took her arm and gently pulled her to her feet, then led her away.

The two agents escorted Inara back to her cell. They reached the room, and Inara went inside, but Alvarez paused at the door to have a quiet word with Kain. The man departed, heading back in the direction from which they'd come.

"Thank you, Miss Serra," Alvarez said as she sat at the small table in the center of the cell. "We've recorded your testimony. A transcript is being drawn up, formalizing what you just told Lieutenant Brady. Agent Kain should return with it in a moment, and once you sign it, you're free to go."

"What about the rest of our agreement?" Inara asked.

"Everyone on the ship Serenity and the stolen Skuld transport has been pardoned for any action they've taken in the past two days." She smiled and her eyes actually twinkled as she added, "I can't make any promises regarding anything further in the past than that."

Inara didn't share the woman's amusement. "And?"

"The Firefly will be allowed to refuel at the Verdande platform – "

"At…" Inara prompted.

" – at uninflated Core fuel prices. I can't control what you'll pay for stocking up on other supplies."

"That's fine. The other thing?"

"We'll be leaving the system in two days."

"That will suffice," Inara said. That was the whole of the agreement, but Inara wasn't done.

"What about the accusation Beyla Skuld made?" Inara asked. "Is that of any concern to you?"

Alvarez took her time pondering the question. Now that the woman wasn't focused on manipulating Inara, her manner had completely changed, her face softened and her bearing relaxed. She gave Inara a measuring look, but it wasn't hostile. It was almost respectful, as if appreciating a worthy opponent. Then she sighed and leaned back in her chair.

"Miss Serra, this battleship came to Niflheim because we believed, based on reports sent to us by undercover officers, that the supply of a product needed by Alliance peace-keeping forces was in danger due to cartel in-fighting. As it turned out, those reports were true. Now the threat has been eliminated. We've done the job we came to do, and the Alliance is safer and more stable because of it.

"The matter which was raised by Beyla Skuld is tragic, but…"

The woman paused, looking doubtful, and she studied Inara again. When she continued speaking, she didn't sound at all like the pre-programmed government official she'd been the night before. She sounded like a human being. A person with a lot of work to do.

"You've been helpful. If you want to continue to be helpful, it would be best for you to let this matter rest."

Inara didn't back down. "What about holding Verdande accountable for what he's done to an entire world and its inhabitants? What about trying to stop or even reverse the damage?"

Alvarez shifted uncomfortably, but her eyes settled on Inara, and there was determination in her look. "Miss Serra, we have a deal and I will honor it. But – as I told you before – your crew has only been pardoned for crimes committed in the past two days. Need I go on?"

Inara considered bluffing. She could play the snobbish high-class Companion, tell the woman that she didn't care for the crew of Serenity and that sending them off to jail wouldn't bother her a bit. But the confidence on Alvarez's face showed that Inara had already tipped her hand.

She was tired. In the past few days she'd resorted to every skill she had, and used them in situations she hadn't even imagined while she was training at the House. She was worn down to the bone, and this agent had read her easily. Inara wouldn't be winning any more battles; it was time to stop. She dropped her eyes in defeat, and sat quietly until Kain returned with the forms for her to sign. A few minutes later, she picked up her bag and followed the two agents out, wondering if she might really be on her way to peace and rest in the quiet comfort of her shuttle. Finally.

.*. .*. .*.

Translations
zaōgaō: damn it
gōushī: crap

---

Chapter 21.

Kaylee woke up bit by bit, but there was no fuzzy period of forgetfulness. She had no confusion about where she was, and remembered everything that had come before she took her rest in Inara's shuttle. She figured from the heaviness of her arms and legs and the dryness of her mouth that she'd slept long and hard, but it hadn't given her any distance from the hijacking, or from the way it had ended.

She heard the little sounds of another person in the room and was glad to know that Inara was still with her, but she didn't want to get up yet. She was still for a while, hoping to fall asleep again. Then it occurred to her that making herself busy might be the best way to quiet her thoughts, especially since sleep didn't look to be coming. There was a shuttle that needed fixing; that would do for a start.

She rolled over, and was a little startled that it wasn't Inara sitting across the room from her; it was Simon.

"Oh – " she stammered, realizing that, under the covers, she was wearing very little. It wasn't Kaylee's way to be shy, but she didn't want Simon looking at her. Not right now. She didn't think real hard about why; she just pulled the covers up to her nose.

"Good morning," Simon said softly. "How are you feeling?"

She pulled the blanket down enough to reply. "I… I'm okay." Her throat was scratchy. She coughed a little, then asked in a still croaky voice, "Is it really mornin'?

"It's moving toward afternoon," he said with a smile. "But I guess the time of day is a little off for all of us."

Kaylee was a little surprised when he stood up and left the room, but he came back a minute later with a glass full of water. She worked one arm out from under the sheets to accept it, but kept the rest of herself hidden. She felt like she must be dirty. She tried to think back on everything her body had been through since she last had lazy free time for washing up. There'd been unintentional drunkenness with Jayne, finding and fixing the new mule, driving around in the desert, then being held hostage on her own ship. Days of grime were built up all over her, and she wanted nothing more than to get to the shower and scrub it off.

Simon sat down on the edge of the bed, but Kaylee wished he'd stay further away. She didn't want him close to her now; he looked so neat and clean. So civilized.

"We still docked with the Alliance?" she asked.

"Yes, we are."

"Where'd Inara go? Not that I ain't… not that I ain't happy you're here…." She stopped when she saw how Simon shifted uncomfortably and looked down at his hands. His reluctance to speak made her worry. She sat up, still holding the blanket tightly over her chest.

"What is it, Simon? You gotta tell me."

He looked up at her. "The Alliance took Inara. She's been gone for nearly half a day, and they haven't told us anything."

"They took her? But… but Inara's a Companion. They can't just take her!"

He shrugged, looking helpless. "I guess they can, because they did."

"But they won't do nothin' to her, right?"

"Of course they won't," he said, but she could tell he didn't believe it. He must have noticed the way she looked at him, because he shook his head. "I don't know, Kaylee. The way people act out here… it never makes sense. There's no rules, no guidelines. People never do what they're supposed to do."

Kaylee laid back down, letting her head rest on the pillow. No, people sure didn't act like they were supposed to. She hadn't. The thought made her look away from Simon.

"I'm sorry," he told her. "This isn't helping. I shouldn't be so negative –"

"S'okay. You don't gotta be all careful round me. You can say what you need." She roused herself and shifted, sliding back so she could sit up against the wall behind the bed, still carefully clutching the sheet. She swallowed down her own worries; she'd meant to be a help to Simon, but here he was, trying so hard to comfort someone else again. Trying to comfort her.

"I meant to come back," she said softly. "I saw how bad they hurt you, and I was gonna come back to the infirmary and help. But I… I guess I forgot."

He smiled. "Don't worry. I managed all right by myself."

Kaylee's frustration came back, fresh and stinging, as she recalled what she'd felt when she'd seen Simon through the infirmary window. "You shouldn't'a had to! I don't understand it, Simon. You were helpin' them. You're a doctor, not a gunhand like Jayne. You don't hurt people, you fix them. Why would they beat on you when you were just tryin' to save one of em?"

Simon looked surprised at her sudden tirade, but then he smiled sheepishly. "Actually, I feel more than a little foolish. I walked right into this." He raised a hand to the bruise high on his cheek. "River was trying to warn me, but… I just wanted to get to Book, and I paid no attention to her."

"That ain't all, Simon. I seen what they done to you." Her eyes drifted down to his torso, and she reached out a hand toward his side. But he looked all proper now, his fancy vest fitting neat and snug around him, and her arm dropped before she touched him. "That wasn't just knockin' into you once," she said. "What I saw wouldn't a' happened unless someone was out to hurt you."

He scratched the back of his head and shrugged awkwardly. "Actually, that followed another move of mine that, maybe, wasn't entirely míng zhì."

Kaylee just stared at him until he explained.

"I… kind of tried to fight one of them. I attacked him." He took a deep breath and continued with the air of a man giving a full confession. "I jumped an armed man. There was no artificial gravity and I was hardly able to move, but I did it anyway." He shook his head. "In retrospect, it wasn't very bright, and didn't accomplish much. Well… except that I broke his nose. That was… oddly satisfying."

Kaylee stared at him open-mouthed. She'd meant to ask why he'd done such a fool thing, but she got side-tracked by that last tidbit. "Hú chĕ! You broke Will's nose?"

Simon's sheepish smile held a little pride, but then he shook out his right hand, making a pained face as he flexed his fingers. "It's not something I'd like to do again."

"I guess we did our part then, huh?" Kaylee said. "You broke a nose, and I…"

She couldn't finish, and there was an awkward moment. Then Simon broke it, speaking with forced cheerfulness. "There's good news," he said. "Zoë, Wash and Jayne are back."

Kaylee looked up hopefully, but then she felt a little worry sneak in. It seemed too much to suppose that anyone had got through this without hurts. "They all right?" she asked.

"Perfectly fine. They showed up this morning. They, um…" His face lit in a smile. "They brought your mule back."

Simon was so sweet, comforting her like that, with something he knew was important to her. She tried to encourage him by returning a smile. "I guess I ought'a go see that they didn't break it, huh?"

"If you're ready to get up. There's no rush. You should… you should take it easy, after…" He looked down at the floor, hunching a little bit like he was nervous. "Kaylee, if you need anything, anything at all…"

Truthfully, she had no idea what she needed, but the offer meant more than she could say. She reached out to touch his arm, and he looked up and took her hand in his own. Gently, he worked her fingers, his adept touch releasing the tension in her joints. And then she realized that this could be it – this could be her moment with Simon. Finally. She looked up and met his eyes. He was right here, so close, and for once he wasn't saying anything to ruin it. He smiled a little as he lifted a hand to her hair.

Before he could touch her, Kaylee pulled her hand out of his. "I… I need a shower," she said, "fore I do anythin' else. I just… I need to get clean." She dropped her head and couldn't look up again; she didn't want to see his face.

His reply was soft. "Of course," he said, but he didn't get up, just sat on the edge of the bed like he had more to say. Not now, Kaylee thought. I can't do this now.

"Um… you see my clothes anywhere?" she asked.

"Oh," Simon said. He looked at her arm which held the sheet across her chest, and his eyes widened. "Oh!" He stood up suddenly and looked around. Her clothes were neatly folded in pile on the table, and he got them and set them on the bed. "You just… get dressed," he stammered. "I'll wait outside."

Kaylee watched him leave, but she didn't change right away. She couldn't help wondering what would have happened if she'd taken the chance, just leaned forward to kiss him. How would Simon react to her doing something like that?

She regretted not trying, but this wasn't the time. Not with her feeling as nasty as she did. Inside and out.

.*. .*. .*.

Jayne woke up with an empty beer growler still wedged under his arm. He'd finished off the little bit left in this bottle, but he hadn't touched the other one. For some reason, his heart hadn't been in his drinking. Must'a just needed the sleep more.

And now he needed something else. His mouth and body were ripe enough that even he smelled it. Jayne was a standalone kind of guy, and the opinions of others never did weigh on him much. Still, that crazy old Chinese lady had called him stinky. He'd never let anyone know it, but that'd hurt his feelings. It was one thing when a guy like Wash let his mouth run off about Jayne's hygiene, but it was different when a woman said something, even if it'd been some ditty old bat talking. And worse - she'd said it right in front of Kaylee.

He got up and dug through the mess in the corner of his bunk to find a towel, then headed to the shower room just below the bridge. The scrap of soap sitting in the stall, along with a lot of scrubbing, did the work just fine. Before too long, Jayne was stepping out of the shower room, glowing shiny clean pink and holding a towel around his waist. He shut the hatch behind himself and turned around to run smack into Kaylee.

"Whoa – watch it there, li'l Kaylee."

"Oh, sorry, Jayne. Guess I wasn't watchin' where I was goin'." She sounded all tired out, and didn't hardly look at him. That wasn't like the Kaylee he knew. He expected her to at least take a glance, if only to make some crack about him walking around near naked.

"You ought'a be more careful," he jibed, "I could be some half-crazed hijacker lookin' for trouble."

Jayne grinned, but Kaylee didn't seem to think that was funny. Not at all. She stepped away from him, her head down and eyes on the floor.

"Yeah, I guess I should be careful…" she said softly. "I just... I was thinkin'. Busy thinkin'." Then she just stood there, and Jayne wiggled his toes awkwardly against the metal deck, not at all sure what to say.

Finally, Kaylee pointed at the door behind Jayne. "You mind if I… ?"

"Oh." He realized she was holding her shower things, and he stepped aside. But he watched Kaylee as she went by; she wasn't at all like she ought to be. It was like someone had turned her light out.

"Hey, Kaylee," he said, and she turned back to him. "You know, I got some a'that beer left. If you wanted some… maybe, like… to help you unwind a bit. Cause bein' a hostage can't be all that much fun. I guess."

Her mouth curved in a small smile, but she still didn't look happy. "No thanks, Jayne. I'm just fine."

Jayne watched her go into the still steamy room, then he turned toward his bunk, shaking his head.

.*. .*. .*.

Mal started out of his sleep at a touch on his arm. He woke up easier than he had last time, but he still had a bad spell while the remnants of troublesome dreams danced through his head. He sat up and waited for the bleariness to pass.

When he was able to think straight, he looked up at Zoë. He didn't have to ask any questions. "She's back," was all Zoë said.

They found Inara in the dining room. The rest of the crew, minus their two guests, were gathered around the table, eagerly awaiting the Companion's story. Inara herself looked tired and dull, and she started speaking as soon as Mal and Zoë entered.

"We can go," she said. "There are no charges against any of us."

Mal stopped just inside the doorway. "But… how…"

Inara explained, but she spoke slowly, without her usual liveliness of manner. "My client and his aunt were behind the hijacking of Serenity. I overheard some things they said while I was on the platform, and I gave evidence against them. You'll be allowed to refuel at the planetside Verdande compound, and they promised a decent price. It's all here." She set down a sheet of paper on the table, then paused, looking around at the crew, as if trying to remember if there was more to say. Evidently, that was all, because she stood up and faced Mal. "Do you mind if I give you the details later? I'm… very tired."

"Sure, go on and get your rest," Mal said. Inara turned and left without even a nod of acknowledgement.

"Well, then," Wash said. He looked up at Mal and waved his thumb toward the bridge. "Captain, may I?"

"I'd be happy if you would," Mal replied, and Wash got up and departed through the fore hatch, clearly eager to get them away from the Alliance ship.

Mal rubbed his eyes. This was too much information passing too quickly. "We got any morning-type beverages?" he asked.

"Hot water for tea on the stove," Book answered, and Mal went about fixing himself a mug. He surreptitiously checked on his crew from the galley: Zoë and Jayne seemed fine; Jayne actually looked cleaner than he had in a good long time. Book seemed hardly the worse for wear – he was entertaining the crew with tales of the things that had occupied his thoughts during his under-the-table time. River was her distracted self, dividing her time between staring off into space and casting sharp, worried looks at Simon and Kaylee.

The doctor was looking toward Kaylee, but not directly at her. Kaylee didn't speak up either. She sat back from the table, occasionally nodding at the conversation, but she didn't join in. Eventually, she pushed back her chair and left, saying she wanted to get started fixing up the torn up wiring in Shuttle Two.

"Doc," Mal said as he came out of the galley with his tea in hand.

"Yes, Captain?"

"How's your patient?"

"He's doing well. There's no sign of infection. He woke up for a little while this morning; I think I'll be able to move him to a dorm room soon."

Mal sighed. Moved to a dorm room? That implied a bit of a long stay. All he needed was more wayward babes on his boat.

"How 'bout our other guest?"

"He has a room already, but he's been sitting outside the infirmary all morning."

Mal sighed. "I'd best go deal with him, now that I'm able to talk sense. Zoë."

She nodded and got up to follow him out of the room.

They found Bucky where Simon said he'd be: sitting outside the infirmary. He was dozing, his head tipped back against the chair he was sprawled on. Mal stopped and took a moment to gather himself. He didn't know much about these people, except that there was a father who hadn't seen his son in a spell, and a son who, clearly lacking guidance, had gotten himself involved in some hardcore crime. Mal wasn't inclined to look too kindly on Bucky.

"Mal," Zoë's voice was a soft whisper. He looked back at her.

"I ain't sayin' I've gone all angel of mercy, but take it easy on the man, all right?" Mal gave her a questioning look. "He had nothin' to do with what happened here. He just wants to help the boy. And when we first talked to him, he said he thought the kid was dead."

Mal looked at Bucky again; that would explain it, if it was true. Mal went to take a seat next to the napping man, then awkwardly tapped him on the elbow to rouse him.

"Hey. Uh… Bucky?"

Bucky looked up, startled. He shook himself awake and looked into the infirmary, checking on the boy before his gaze settled on Mal.

"How's he doin'?" Mal asked.

Bucky wiped his eyes. "He woke a bit this mornin', but didn't have a lot to say."

"Did you tell him about Ray?"

The man gave Mal a tired look. "I did."

"How'd he take it?"

Bucky shook his head. "Didn't say a gorram word."

Mal sat back and waited while Bucky took some time to wake up fully. He watched the man, not quite convinced. Any bum in the 'verse could father a child, but that didn't make him worthy of being a dad.

"How long's it been since you seen him?" Mal asked.

Bucky took a moment to think, like he was calculating. "It's been… it's been more than nine years. Been seven since Ray came and told me he was dead." Bucky shook his head. "Gorramn, I can't believe he's sixteen. I thought he died at nine."

Mal nodded to himself. Made sense, then, that Bucky wasn't torn up about his brother's death. Not a lot of love in that family.

Bucky looked into the infirmary again. "He's not the same as the boy I knew. I'm not even sure if he remembers me. When he woke up, he just looked at me, all blank, like he didn't even care who I was."

Mal glanced at Zoë, and something behind her caught his eye. A small body was all balled up on the stairs over the infirmary. River was staring down at them, her eyes fastened intently on Bucky. Mal found himself hoping that Bucky didn't notice; a look like that could make a full-grown man fear the wrath of skinny teenaged girls

"Captain, I want to ask you for somethin'," Bucky said slowly, and Mal pulled his attention back to the conversation. "I can't say as you owe me much, seein' how much trouble all this has been to ya. But I can't take Jase to the compound. If there's any spirit left in him, it'll get killed by livin' in that place."

Mal glanced up at Zoë, and he saw confirmation in her eyes. "You got somewhere else in mind?" he asked.

"There's a planet near here. It's not a high tech place; it's mostly wild and empty. But there's a colony of folk there that got moved off Niflheim. Some of 'em are relations of Jase's mom. I think they'll take us in. Planet's called New Borjomi."

"I know the place," Mal replied. "We took our ease there for a few days."

"It would help if I could get back to my flat in the compound on Niflheim. I got all my worldly goods, and there's a few things that may fetch some money. I'll pay what I can for the ride. And for what you've done to help him."

Zoë spoke up before Mal could even think on it. "It ain't a problem," she said. "Wash and I can take you over in the shuttle while Serenity's fueling up." She folded her arms and glared at Mal like she was daring him to challenge her offer, but Mal just nodded.

"You may have to wait a bit," Mal said. "Shuttle Two's been tore up, and I don't want to push Kaylee. You can go when she says it's ready. As for going back to New Borjomi – that's just fine by me. I wouldn't mind stockin' up on foodstuffs again. It's better than paying the prices they charge here." He stood up and turned to look down at the man. "Sides, you did help Zoë here get to that transport; I appreciate that. You keep your money. You'll be needin' it."

Zoë was pleased at how Mal'd treated Bucky. Truthfully, she hadn't expected him to go so soft on the man. But she wasn't at ease with how he'd left the whole situation, and wanted to have a few words.

She caught up with Mal in the cargo bay.

"Captain?"

He stopped a few steps up the stairway, his hand on the railing. "Yeah, Zoë?"

"It wouldn't be a bad thing to get out of this system on the soon side. Alliance has been known to change their mind out of nothing more than but bein' ornery."

"You got an idea to hurry us on our way?"

"We could take Inara's shuttle down for Bucky's stuff. I'm sure she'd – "

Mal interrupted, his voice firm. "No. Let her have her peace. She needs it."

He started to continue on his way, but Zoë couldn't leave it alone. She needed to get to the bottom of this. "Sometime, Captain, you should explain what's got everyone on this boat so spooked." She had a specific idea of who she meant when she said everyone, but it hadn't been doing much good to ask Mal about himself directly. His worry about Inara seemed a good place to get him started with the talking.

Mal stopped a few steps up the staircase and gave her a long, measuring look. Then he turned all the way back. "Hell, Zoë. We're just on edge after all that's happened. Don't mean nothin'."

"Then why you so eager to give Inara all this alone time?"

Mal looked annoyed, but instead of snapping at her to mind her own business, he sighed and sat down on the stairs. His face crinkled, like he was digging up something inside himself that wasn't easy to get to.

"I got this…" He paused and gave Zoë a sidelong look, like he felt silly about what he was saying. "Look – I got this feeling. I can't explain it, but I think something happened to her. Something besides the stuff on this boat. It's hard to tell with her being so good at doing the 'everything's fine' act. But… I think she's hiding somethin'."

Zoë didn't question his instincts; she'd been with Mal a lot of years, and sometimes it seemed like she had a better feel about his hunches than he did.

"You asked her bout it?"

"I did. Before the Alliance took her. She don't want to talk."

Zoë leaned against the railing next to him. "Sir," she said, then, "Mal." In conversations like these, which didn't happen often, it was hard to know what to call the captain. It was hard to classify what their relationship was. But she had something to say, so she plowed on ahead. "You and I both know what it's like to be troubled, and we've both pushed other folks away so they won't see it. It don't work. I know it, and you do too."

"You're sayin' I should try talkin' to her again?"

Zoë wasn't ready to commit to that. "I can't tell you what to do. You have to go about things your own way. I'm just sayin'… think on it."

Mal sat quiet for a spell, then he gave Zoë a look like he was about to tread new ground, but he wasn't at all sure if it was safe. It took him a few false starts before he finally said what was on his mind.

"Zoë… I know you didn't think much of Wash when you met him, and I sure didn't think much of you two gettin' hitched. But, I gotta say, you never used to smile so much as you have since then."

Zoë couldn't help staring at him, completely befuddled as to what he was talking about. "You sure the doc checked that bump on your head?" she asked.

Mal grinned. "He tried. But whatever got knocked loose, there's no way he can fix it. You'll just have to put up with me."

She stepped around the railing and climbed up to sit on the stairs next to him. "All right, sir. What the hell are you talkin' about?"

He stared down at his knees, looking like he was a little embarrassed.

"I just been wonderin'… How'd you do it? After everything… after the war and now, livin' out here like we do… how did you ever, you know… "

Open up? Zoë thought. Let him in?

Mal went for an easier question. "How'd you and Wash get past that whole not-liking-each-other thing?"

He didn't have to explain more; Zoë knew what he was asking. She remembered those early days with Wash, remembered the difficulty, the almost physical discomfort of making herself relax around the new pilot. Even after she knew there was something about him, and about the two of them together, it hadn't been a simple thing to give in to it. She'd held a shield around herself for so long that it had nearly become part of her. Setting it aside hadn't been an easy thing, and it still came up from time to time.

For example – events in that stolen transport, the ruckus Wash had made about that spacesuit. They still hadn't made peace about that, just set it aside until the danger was passed. They'd have to work it out sometime. Soon.

Zoë sighed. It was tough to be both soldier and wife. If she was reading this right, Mal was facing a similar thing: how to be a captain and a lover to someone on his ship. This wasn't an issue she'd ever discussed with him, but if he was ready to quit being alone and move on in life the way she had, she'd certainly do all she could to help him. It sure as hell was time for him and Inara to work this thing out and quit putting the whole crew on edge with their fighting.

"I had to make up my mind that I wanted him," she finally said. "And I had to give up bein' safe."

"Safe?"

"Sometimes you have to take the risk of puttin' someone else first. Set aside your own worries. Even the feeling that nothin' you got will be enough. Just being able to do that… I think just makin' that effort means more than anything else."

She waited for a reply, but there wasn't one coming. Mal just sat staring at something far away. Zoë didn't push him; the captain appeared to have some new thoughts working their way into his mind, thoughts that might do him good.

Eventually, Zoë stood up to take her leave. Mal hardly seemed to notice.

.*. .*. .*.

Translations
míng zhì: wise
hú chĕ: get out