Spartan's Quest - Chapter 30
Author owns no rights to Firefly, and writes only for his own amusement.
I am having trouble with scene separation. I am trying to fix it, but so far nothing works. Sorry for the trouble.
Regan looked on in shock as River showed her Jayne's financial statements. She'd always heard that Lord Janos was the richest man in the 'verse, but hearing it, and seeing it were two different things entirely.
"River? Do you. . .does he, have any idea how much. . . ."
"No," River sighed, tossing the sheaf of papers in her hand onto the desk in despair. "I tried, really I did, when we first got together, to just estimate. I gave up after two days of nothing but looking through all this," she waved her arms to encompass the room.
"There's no telling what people are taking from him!" Regan's voice rose.
"I agree," River nodded. "It's been a bone of contention between us recently," she added, albeit reluctantly.
"Well, I can see where he wouldn't worry," Regan added after a brief period of thought. "He has so much, he could lose a quarter of it, and probably never miss it. Still, you're right. This needs oversight. And management."
"Can you do it?" River asked, her voice hopeful. Her mother looked at her, and had the crew of Serenity seen the look, they would have recognized the 'boob' look. And it's origin.
"Of course I can," she replied with confidence. "I can't straighten this out in a day, or probably even a month, but I can straighten it out. And provide management of his assets to make sure he's not being taken advantage of."
"Good," River beamed. "You've got the job. I think you'll find the compensation is equal to the task." She handed her mother a small slip of paper. Regan looked at it, feeling her head spin.
"River, this is more than your father has ever made in a year!" she almost yelled.
"I know," River replied smugly. "Isn't it ironic?"
Mother and daughter shared a laugh, then started to wade through the mountain of paper work in the study.
"Hiram, I'm not replacing you," Jayne said for the umteenth time. "It's just too much to ask, of you or Prim. That's all. Lady River's mother isn't taking over your position. She is going to be my business manager, and that's all."
"I feel as if I have failed, My Lord," the older man said, his posture and voice a tad stiff.
"If you had, then you'd be out on your ass, and well you know it," Jayne replied. "I've asked too much of you, and of Prim. I just didn't realize it. It. . .it isn't right, Hiram, to leave so much for either of you. You do have lives of your own, you know. And with Prim gone for the foreseeable future, I can't ask you to keep doing both your job and his."
"I don't mind the extra work, My Lord," Hiram replied softly.
"I know you don't, and I can't tell you how grateful I am to have you on my staff. I'm lucky to have either of you, let alone both. It's a rare thing to find a man one can place his entire trust in. And I appreciate that in you. Honestly, I don't know what I'd do without you." Hiram's bearing shifted a bit at that.
"Very well, My Lord," he nodded.
"And, it's not like you're in the clear," Jayne chuckled. "Mrs. Tam will need time to assimilate everything. I have no doubt that she'll need your input more than once. Also, you, Prim, and a few others, know how I think. That knowledge will be invaluable to her as she tries to adjust to managing my business affairs. I know she has the lawyers and accountants, but what she doesn't have is your sense of what I want."
"I will assist her in every way possible, My Lord," Hiram assured him.
"I know that. And you aren't her assistant, Hiram. You are still the number two man here at the estate. It's you who runs things when both Prim and I are absent. She's just going to take part of that job off your hands."
"Very well, My Lord," Hiram was looking better. "I was simply afraid I had failed you. . . ."
"Well, you haven't," Jayne stated flatly. "If you had, you'd be gone. Now, I need to be about my day, unless there's something else?"
"No, My Lord," Hiram was himself again, his momentary loss of confidence behind him. Jayne watched him go, wondering how many other ruffled feathers he would need to smooth today.
"It's not always good to be king," he muttered under his breath.
"How'd it go?" Mal asked, as Jerl returned to the ship. He had gone to meet the agent who had sent Serenity to Byalye.
"We got a cargo," Jerl smiled. "Same as the way you had it, according to what you said. And he was a little forceful about delivering the cargo, no matter what, too. Seems as if he took a earful over you not making delivery before."
"My heart bleeds for 'im," Mal snorted mildly. "All right, Neera and I will stay outta sight while you deal with getting the cargo loaded. Make sure the troops stay outta sight too."
"I'll take care of it," Jerl promised. "Should be here in half an hour."
"I'm goin'."
"Sir, we may have something." Hawkins perked up at that, having been about to doze off in his chair.
"Report," he ordered, rising from his seat and walking to the sensor station.
"There's a faint signal here," the man pointed to a spot on the globe representing Beaumonde. "It matches that of a reactor turned very low, almost below maintenance levels. About what you'd expect of a ship that wasn't in use at the moment."
"And this position is very close to where we were told Wilson might be," the younger man added. "Very close. As in, so close as makes no difference."
"Well," Hawkins sighed in relief. All this time hadn't been wasted after all. He studied the 'picture' for a bit longer.
"No chance this ship is preparing to leave, then," he wanted to make sure.
"It would take several hours to ramp it up sufficiently to leave, sir. As I said, it's at or below maintenance levels. They may be doing work on the ship, though there's no way for me to tell that."
"Don't lose contact with that ship," he ordered. He walked toward his small cabin. He had a call to make.
Liz Winters turned her Cortex receiver on reluctantly, grunting when Janos' face appeared.
"What do you want?" she didn't quite snarl. The last few days had been very nice.
"Good to see you too, Liz," Janos smiled.
"If you call me that again, I swear I'll. . . ."
"We've found him," Janos cut her off. Winters sat up straighter and called for Jarred to join her.
"Where?"
"That farm the four of you visited before," Janos told her. "He's back there, with his ship. Looks like they may be doing down maintenance on the ship, and generally just lying low for a time."
"Count?" she asked, Jarred joining her.
"Unknown, but assume the worst," Janos shrugged. "I'm betting on thirty, though I have no way to be sure. I figure better safe than sorry."
"Works for me," the dark haired woman nodded. "When you want to hit them?"
"It will take me about four days to gather what I can, and arrive on station," Janos explained. "I want to hit them no later than five days from now, if possible."
"And this ends it?" Barstow asked.
"This part of it, anyway," Janos shrugged. "I'll still have Brockman to deal with, but without his army, I may can manage that." Winters snorted, but said nothing. Barstow nodded.
"See you in five days," Janos said, closing off the link. Winters sighed, looking at Barstow.
"Well, I guess the honeymoon is over," she grinned. He laughed, leaning down to kiss her lightly.
"It will never be over," he whispered. "Does this thing have an auto pilot?"
"But where are you going?" Regan asked, looking from daughter to son-in-law, back to daughter.
"We have something we need to see to, mother," River explained carefully. "We should be back in a week to ten days, if all goes well. Meantime, you're perfectly safe here, and Hiram will see to it that you have everything you can possibly need." River hugged her mother tightly.
"We'll be back before you know it."
"Why are you taking all these people with you?" she asked, as all of the Team that were on the grounds, along with several others, were filing aboard Athena.
"We never go anywhere without security, Mrs. Tam," Jayne took that one. "Because of who I am, who we are, there is always a threat. These men and women are to protect us from that threat. That's all."
"Well, do be careful."
"We shall, mother," River promised. "See you in a few days."
"Comin' up on Byalye, Captain," Mal heard. He worked his way forward, seeing Jerl McCann was already there, seated in front of the cortex receiver. He nodded, and Jerl called up the client. Shortly the less than Honorable Elmyra Wiggins was on the screen. Mal was careful to remain out of view.
"'Bout time," the woman almost snarled. "Though we was gonna starve 'fore you lot got here."
"We left the moment we received the cargo, ma'am," Jerl replied with a smile. "If there's any delay, it wasn't on our end. We just wanted to let you know we're in orbit, and will be landing shortly. Is your pad clear?"
"Yes," the mayor replied. "All is in readiness for your arrival." Jerl didn't miss the anticipation in her voice, or the slight gleam in her eye. He also didn't miss the fact that her pulse quickened in her neck, something few 'mortals' would have noted, especially over a video link.
"We'll be setting down in. . . ." he looked away, where the pilot, already briefed, held up a single finger.
"An hour at most," Jerl turned back to the monitor.
"We'll be ready," Wiggins promised, and broke the connection. Jerl looked up.
"She's definitely hiding something," he told Mal at once. "I can hear it in her voice, and her eyes give her away. So does her pulse and respiratory rate."
"You can tell all that over a wave?" Mal goggled?
"Can't you?" McCann asked, feigning surprise. Mal looked at him for a moment then snorted.
"Funny man," he muttered. "Everybody's a comedian these days."
"Well, we should get a laugh out of whoever is waiting to take us on when we hit the ground," Jerl smirked. "But it'll be short lived."
"Just how I like it," Mal all but growled. "Let's be gettin' things ready."
Prim and Inara were in the small town in the lowlands beneath the estate, shopping for 'this and that', as Inara had put it. Which meant that Inara shopped, and Prim toted the bags.
"What do you think?" Inara asked, holding up a sheaf of curtain material.
"Lovely," Prim responded at once. "If you like it, I think it will look fine."
"Prim, that's the third time you've used that same answer," Inara scolded. "I really want your imput."
"Inara, my darling, I simply don't have a preference," Prim replied with great restraint. He had been about to say 'don't care', but managed to change it just in time. "I have never paid much attention to window dressing. If a home was functional, and secure, that was all I required."
"Well, I require more," Inara told him. "And it will behoove you greatly to at least pretend that you do as well."
"I am pretending," The words were out of his mouth before he even realized he'd spoken. Uh-oh.
Sure enough, Inara was glaring at him. Icily. Well, today was nice while it lasted.
"I'm ready to go home," Inara said stiffly.
"Inara, dear, that's not what I meant. . . ." Prim tried.
"Yes, it is," she almost sniffed. Prim closed his eyes. Not the teary look. And the baleful eyes. Anything but that.
"I didn't know asking you along would be such a bore to you." Sure enough, wet eyes, wet, dark, round, beautiful eyes.
"Inara, all I meant was that I was pretending to know what will or won't work. Or look good. I simply don't know. I never have. All I can do is take your word for it. And you have such excellent taste, that's good enough for me. I trust you to make our home as beautiful and as comfortable as it can possibly be."
Inara smiled beautifully at him at that, and kissed him gently on the cheek.
"Well, in that case, I suppose we can keep looking. Although, the more I look, the more I'm convinced that we'll have to order most everything. I have some catalogues I can dig out once we're home. In the meantime, however, let's go down to the. . . ."
Sighing, Prim dutifully followed.
I'd rather fight a pitched battle that face the teary eyed look, he admitted to himself. You're hooked but good Primeter Vatorian.
Mal stood just away from the ramp, trailed by the bulk of the security crew. The ship settled on the ground, and Jerl, along with only two other crew, both Brethren, stood in the bay in plain sight.
"Here we go," Mal whispered. Heads nodded, and final checks of body armor and weapons were made. The cargo ramp lowered, and there stood Mayor Wiggins, backed by over a dozen very unsavory looking individuals.
"Howdy, Mayor," Jerl spoke calmly. "We didn't expect help unloading. That'll be great."
"Yes," she grinned, though the look was far from being welcoming. It was, Jerl decided, rather predatory. Well, aren't you in for a surprise?
"We'll take it from here," a large man growled, stepping forward. He was easily a foot taller than Jerl, and seventy-five punds heavier, little of it fat. He expected no difficulty. "You and your crew need to exit the ship."
"Oh, that's not necessary," Jerl said good naturedly. "We'll bear a hand. And, tell the truth, while it'd be great to spend the night dirtside, we got more runs to make. So we'll just get you unloaded, and be on our merry."
"I don't think you understand," Wiggins said, as she and the rest walked up the ramp. "You ain't goin' anywheres. Your ship and your crew belong to us, now. Long as you don't give us any trouble, you might live out the day."
"I see," Jerl said calmly. "Well, then I guess it's time. Mal?"
Mal and the men behind him rushed forward, sweeping around the townspeople.
"You're under arrest," Mal said, a little louder than he meant to. Wiggins raised her gun, but Jerl grabbed it, crushing the revolver in his grip. The others had been moving, but froze at this unanticipated develop.
"Don't make this harder than it has to be, Mayor," Mal warned. "Next wrong move will be your last. You and this rat pack o' yours are under arrest. You can come peaceable like, or we can carry your bodies back. Makes me no never mind, to be honest. Stop movin'!" He ordered the men in back as they shuffled to the edge of the ramp.
"You ain't got no 'thority ta 'rest no one, Reynolds," Wiggins barked.
"Wrong again," Mal smiled, flashing the credentials that Jayne had procured for them. "We're Ministry of Justice Marshals. And you are all under arrest. This is the last warning I'm like to give, too. Now all o' you, hands in the air!"
"Our men outside will destroy your ship if you try and lift off," Wiggins temporized.
"Think so?" Mal asked. He reached for his com.
"You got'em?" was all he asked.
"Two teams, both bracketed." Neera's voice was calm. Certain. "All we're waitin' on is your word." mal looked at Wiggins.
"Your move, Mayor," was all he said. Wiggins weighed her options for less than a second, then screeched;
"Kill'em all!"