Meeting Captain Malcolm Reynolds was an unusual experience, but not an unwelcome one. I had been staying on Persephone for about a week, and had set myself up surprisingly well. The Alliance maintains an active presence on this planet, not that you could tell by the large slums. Persephone is a planet of contradictions. It is regarded as civilised by most of the Central Planets, yet has a murky reputation. It also retains a population rivalling some of the larger planets, less than two thirds of this population live in 'privileged areas' similar to Sihnon; But these grand buildings hide a darker side. Persephone also lays claim to being one of the biggest criminal playgrounds in the 'verse, particularly outside the true urban centres. Interesting place though.

Thankfully, my bank accounts were still intact. The loans I took out with surprisingly low interest rates were able to be paid off in cash by half. I had to sell some of the more expensive medicines from my not inconsiderable stash on the black market to cover the rest. I sold all my remaining assets including my modest apartment and shuttle, the proceeds of which were converted into platinum, creds and silver bullion. On Persephone, I rented a suite at a hotel on the outskirts of the city, but placed none of my assets within. The platinum and bullion; about 150,000 platinum in value; I divided up into fifteen even portions, with about the same amount of both in each portion. The credits amounted to 300,000, 60,000 in cash and 230,000 in a black account on Persephone itself, accessible through backwater channels. We were moderately rich and if one counts the remaining value of the medicinal drugs, we comfortably rich. Approximately eight hundred vials of a variety of drugs, common and extremely rare, were my primary asset.

Life on Persephone changed when an arrest warrant was issued for one River Tam. They did not yet know of my involvement, but it was only a matter of time. River had remained in short-term cryo for about three weeks, the maximum for which is about seven. Moving further into the Rim seemed to be a reasonable idea, or at least staying mobile.

I had made my way out to Eavestown Docks, some far distance from Persephone City, because I wanted to leave quietly and without notice. Hiring some cargo carriers to move my assets, I hid two of the bullion fractions, one in a city park via sealed metal cache and one in a legitimate deposit box accessible to anyone with a certain key. We were ready to leave.

Careful to supervise positioning and packing of the small medicine boxes into larger lockable crates, I had them stored in a rented cargo depot, close to the docks themselves. I also bought the larger crates outright and had the sides and lid unofficially fitted with thin spaces coated to be invisible to various scans. You would be surprised what one can do with some cash on a relatively corrupt planet.

Looking up in my four-poster bed for the last time, I decided to take my chances with the first sound ship I saw the next day. I slept fitfully.

Dawn arose and I handed the key to my room in at reception. It was a good feeling. Stepping outside, I breathed in fresh city air. I then braced myself for Eavestown Docks.

The noisy and busy atmosphere of the 'outsider's quarter' of Persephone was not overwhelming, merely lively. Several decrepit looking ships awaited my gaze. I sighed in disappointment. Looking around further but expecting very little, I was pleasantly surprised by the sight of a Firefly-class Multipurpose, Mid-Bulk Transport further along the port proper. Sitting on the boarding ramp was a bubbly looking, twenty-something sitting on a beach chair. With an umbrella. My jaw sagged.

Approaching her with a slow walk, I tried to grab her attention, politely. "Excuse me?"

Her sunglass-laden face turned to regard me. She beamed. "Yes?" she happily chirped. "What can I do you for?"

"Ah, I was wondering if you know the captain of this ship? If he's taking on passengers?" I weakly offered, gesturing at the transport. "My name is Simon, by the way."

"Well my name is Kaywinnet Lee Frye and as a potential passenger, you may address me as Kaylee. Yes I do know the captain and yes he is taking on passengers." She replied airily, imitating my formal manner mockingly but clearly without any intent to insult. We shook hands awkwardly.

"What is the cargo limit?" I inquired after an eccentric introduction. "I have about four large crates worth of cargo to transport; of course I would pay extra."

"Well, I'm only ships mechanic; you'd have to ask Zoe or the Captain for associated rates and details. K?" She replied cheerfully.

"Very well. Do you know when one of the two will be back?" I questioned.

"Well, both the Captain and Zoe are out in the port on business... They should be back in 'bout half an hour or so. You could wait." Kaylee suggested with an inquiring tone.

"I think I will." The advantages of cash are many. I bought a seat from a nearby chop-shop and sat beside her. To pass the time I took out my until-now neglected datapad from its case and started fiddling. Kaylee watched me, intrigued.

It was basically an officially; if now unwanted; hacking tool, designed for Alliance higher-ups who wanted access to anything and everything. It was now mine. Only I was able to start the thing up now, thanks to inputting by bio-data the first time. I was also able to allocate a measure of access to one other, also thanks to earlier choices. I decided to take it out for a test drive. Having a limited but still useful capability with very short-range Cortex receivers, it was only able to 'see' two network entities nearby; the Cortex itself and a micro-network called 'Serenity'. 'I wonder.'

"What is the ship called?"

"Serenity."

'Ah. That makes sense.'

A ship's micro-network is usually very limited, particularly on an older ship like Serenity. My data-pad cracked it wide open (as meagre as security was) and I now had admission to flight logs, life support and communications. Relatively simple stuff. "Who else is away?" I asked, not sure what to expect.

"Inara and Jayne, he went with the Captain, she, well... You'll find out." Kaylee's voice dropped off.

"Ok, so crew of four then?"

"No, five. Little ole me, Jayne, Zoe, Wash and the Captain." She corrected.

"Who's Wash?"

"He's the pilot, Zoe's husband. He fancies himself the ship's comedian. He's funny sometimes, others... not so much."

"Thanks." One life signature remained on board. 'It must be this Wash.'