Chapter 6

Six hours later…

Her husband looked like he was about to keel over. However, Zoë figured it had more to do with boredom than fatigue. He had slept soundly enough next to her that night, during the few hours from touchdown on New Lafayette until the captain had dragged them up at sunrise to continue their search.

She, on the other hand, had lain awake, worrying over Mal's apparent, but hopefully temporary decent into madness. She had thought of Jayne, too, allowed herself a moment of pure honesty, and concluded that she was sad that he was gone. Which was somewhat surprising and at the same time not.

They weren't friends. She wouldn't go that far. But he had been nice to have around, and not just in a fight (in which he of course was always an asset). He entertained her with his clueless comments and his zingers. His crudeness had grown on her, their banter had turned into something lighthearted and fun. He made her smile a lot, she realized. And whereas Mal saw the warrior in her, and Wash saw the woman, Jayne saw her as both, and she liked that.

And he kept Mal on his toes. Wash was right, he had been the perfect punching bag. He always said what needed to be said, even if not in a particular polite and tactful way. He cleared the air. She knew that now, as the tension he'd left in his wake lay thick and heavy over the ship and everyone there.

Including poor Wash, who sat there yawning in his pilot seat, impatiently tapping his finger against the console.

"Anything?" she asked as she joined him. He had been crisscrossing the moon for nearly seven hours now, flying low above the forests looking for any kind of signs of human life.

"A saw a tree," he replied. "And another tree... oh, look, more trees!"

Zoë closed her eyes for a moment. She had married his sarcasm along with the rest of him, but it did get a little tiresome at times. She put her hand on his shoulder, and it was enough to calm him.

"It's just..." He leaned over to turn a couple of switches she didn't really knew what was for. "This is getting stupid. Even if there was some real deep-scan equipment on this ship, it would take us weeks to canvas the whole rock. And now, using just my eyes, vigilant and sharp and beautiful and blue as they may be... We don't even know if he's down there! And, yes, I said he, because I know what we're really looking for is Jayne. I'm not stupid."

"You're clearly not."

"Mal's going to take us all down with him," Wash continued, rather dramatically. "Just like that Moby Dick, hunting his whale."

"I think Moby Dick is the whale," she commented.

He frowned. "Really? That's kind of a weird name for a whale. It's kind of weird for a whale to have a name."

"I suppose it is." She sighed. "Just... give him a few more hours. He'll see reason."

At least she hoped he would. Mal had managed to cough up some money to fill half of Serenity's four fuel tanks. It had taken a huge chunk out of their reserves, and she couldn't see how he would use all of that for...

this.

"Who'll see reason?" The captain entered the bridge just then. He stepped right up to the window and cranked his neck, trying to catch a glance of the ground below.

"You, sir."

He didn't even look at her. "I'm seeing plenty of reason."

"Are you? 'Cause all I'm seein' is time and money goin' down the drain."

"Well, we're not gettin' paid for unfinished jobs."

Wash glanced at her over his shoulder. I told you.

"Sir!" She said it so firmly that he had to tear his eyes away from the landscape outside and acknowledge her. "I know you don't want to be bested by Jayne, and frankly, who does? But this is getting ridiculous."

"What… this has nothing to do with Jayne! This is about doing what's right."

"This has everything to do with Jayne," she retorted. "We know it, and you know it. But he's lost, and so's the cargo. Let's not lose the rest."

For a brief moment it looked like he was about to dig his heels in, but then he just deflated. He threw his arms up and folded his hands behind his head, and let out a low whistle, like air escaping a flat tire. A mask of pure devastation fell across his face, only to be gone again a second later. But even Wash had managed to pick up on it, and Zoë was once again reminded of why she'd married him, as the first thing out of his mouth was words of comfort.

"You know, he might not have bested you. He would've had to leave Persephone before us to beat us to the drop site, which would have given him, like, two hours to not only find that Peng woman, but also convince her to give him her ship and crew. I know that Jayne has a certain charm, but... well, no, he doesn't."

"He's right," Zoë said. "They might've forced it out of 'im. He might be dead."

"He's not dead!" Mal snapped.

"How do you know?" Wash asked.

"Because the man's like a gorramn cockroach! Or that spider you try to flush. He can't be killed. He always comes crawling back up."

Zoë could see on his face, though, that the thought had crossed his mind.

"No, he's not dead," he muttered, as if he needed to hear it. "But it might've been easier if he was."

"You worried he'll sell out the Tams?" Zoë asked him.

He sighed. "I told Simon he wouldn't. I'm not so sure anymore."

"Let's look at what we are sure of," Zoë suggested. "You find anything on that woman?"

"The only thing I found out about Svetlana Peng," he began, stressing the name, "was a fifteen year old prison sentence for tax evasion."

"Well, that can happen to the best of us," Wash chirped.

"I've never been convicted," Mal pointed out.

"And I wasn't necessarily talking about you."

Mal stared at his pilot, taking a moment to fully comprehend what had just been said, but then just shook his head. "Anyways, if she is indeed a criminal mastermind, she's kept a low profile."

"The best ones always do," Zoë said. She turned to fully face him. "Why don't we head back to Persephone while we still can? Hand back that truck, and try and pick up the trail from there?"

She never got to hear his response.

Just then a loud bang tore through the pregnant silence. There was a flash of light from outside the window, and the whole ship jolted with such a force that she fell into her captain, who somehow managed to keep them both on their feet.

"Whoa!" Wash yelled. He was halfway out of his seat, clutching the yoke in a tight grip.

"Are we hit?!" Mal shouted and stumbled his way towards the front screen.

"Near enough," Wash panted. "Just off the bow, port-side." He glanced down at his console and paled. "Incoming missiles!"

He twisted the yoke, throwing the whole ship into a counter-maneuver. Zoë stumbled again but managed to grab onto her husband's seat and keep upright this time too. Mal slammed into the co-pilot console. "Wǒ de mā!"

Another explosion rattled the ship, but Wash's maneuvers had done the trick and this one was even further away. She was about to say something when another clearly hit them and spun them out of control.

But only for a second. Her man was on it. He regained his grip on the yoke and pushed it forward, taking them full speed ahead. He reached for the intercom. "Kaylee? Damage report!"

"Just a moment!" Kaylee shouted back, not just through the intercom but down the hall from the engine room as well.

"That last one hit us," Wash explained, somewhat needlessly. "But only grazed us, I think." He leaned back and exhaled heavily. "Lucky whoever fired the first one was a little trigger happy, or, you know, just a bad shot. If not, we'd be a fireball headed for the ground right about now."

"We've lost auxillary," Kaylee reported through the intercom. "Nothing too bad, but we need to land."

Zoë looked at Mal, expecting to find him fuming and irate. Instead, he stood there grinning like an idiot.

"Sir?"

"They just gave away their position, didn't they?" he snickered.

"You did catch that part about us being hit, right?" Wash asked him. "And needing to land?"

"Right," Mal nodded. "Take us down at the main settlement."

"And then what?"

He kept smiling. "Then we come up with a plan."

Ten minutes earlier...

"So, this is… Kuikui?" Jayne said. He had been pondering the name the whole day, wondering why anyone would give a pile of huts and tents such an impressive label. There had to be some kind of irony here he didn't quite catch.

"Kuikui, New Lafayette, yes," Rufus nodded from the other side of the fire pit. "There are also Kuikui, other places. We move around a lot."

"We?"

"Yeah."

"All of you."

"Yup."

"Even the kiddies?" Jayne eyed a couple of little girls a few tents over, throwing their dolls a tea party. He didn't like kids, but that didn't mean he liked the thought of them in harm's way either.

"Of course."

"Where they come from anyway?"

"Your mama never told you 'bout the birds and the bees, Jayne?" Rufus teased him. "Boy meets girl, boy and girl like each other..."

"She did! She also told me 'bout contraception. There'd be a whole lotta little Cobbs around the 'verse if not."

"I don't doubt it." Rufus chuckled. He leaned in closer. "Truth is, she likes 'em."

Jayne frowned.

"Not in a nasty way!" Rufus hurriedly clarified. "Svetlana just wants 'em. She couldn't have her own, you see, which grieved her lots. So, she won't deny her girls that joy. In fact, she encourages it. I've lost track on who's whose, though. 'Specially the fathers."

"And the two of you call Mal a sap."

Jayne couldn't for the life of him picture Mal allowing kids onboard. He'd refused Kaylee a kitten; there was no rutting way he'd welcome babies. Then again, if Zoë and Wash decided to breed, maybe it wasn't up to him?

He shook the thought from his head. They weren't his crew anymore. He'd never know how that would play out.

"Don't underestimate her," Rufus warned him. "Some of these kids are orphans. She's got no problem killing the parents if they cross her."

"Must cost a fortune, keeping all these critters alive."

"She's got the funds."

Jayne eyed him. "Enough to even pay well, apparently."

"You'll get your fair share," Rufus assured him. "As long as you pull your part of the job."

"Won't be a problem. Not now." He reached for his gun, and had to fight hard to keep the smile off his face when he felt the handle in his hand. He was glad for his new rifle, but the fact that they had given him back his LeMat made him even happier. "Which reminds me, what part of the job was yours again?"

Rufus just smiled. "I've told you."

"Right, information."

He was about to probe some more when they were interrupted by a sudden commotion in the camp. Several people had jumped to their feet and rushed towards the open field, shouting at each other and pointing at the sky. Jayne spotted both Svetlana and Moab among them, and after he and Rufus had exchanged a short glance, they got up to see what was happening.

They found out soon enough. They hadn't even reached the tree line before they saw the ship on the horizon. Some of the men were already looking at it through binoculars and rifle scopes, but Jayne didn't have to. He'd recognize that dinky, old rust-heap anywhere, and the sight of it filled him with all sorts of feelings.

"Hey, isn't that your old ship?" Rufus grinned.

Jayne fought the urge to deck him. He'd be a great surrogate for a certain captain. Mal, that tā mā de hún dàn! Never knew when to cut his losses.

"Looks like your captain found you," Moab snarled. For some reason he'd decided to blame Jayne for this unfortunate turn of events.

"He ain't my captain, and he haven't found me," Jayne snapped back. "He's looking for you. No way in hell they'll see us from there, though. Not if we stay here beneath the trees."

Moab looked like he wanted to say something, but that kicked puppy knew his place, and turned to Svetlana, who just watched the approaching ship with an ice-cold stare.

"Sic the Feds on 'em?" Moab suggested.

"No," she said after a moment's consideration. "I gave him a chance. He didn't take it. Shoot it down."

"Told you she was cold," Rufus whispered to Jayne as Moab barked his orders and men scrambled into action.

Jayne said nothing.

For a blessed moment he felt nothing either.

He watched as several men hauled hand-held missile launchers out from their armory, and then spread out into position across the camp. He knew he was being watched too. Rufus was observing him, waiting for the other shoe to drop, waiting for the mask to fall.

He would have to wait a long time for that.

Serenity came closer. She was going at low speed, and at a low altitude too. The trees shook and swayed in the slipstream behind her, creating a ripple that waved through the forest.

Jayne had put up his battle walls. No emotions would distract him now, neither his own nor anyone else's. He noticed the tension and excitement around him, there was loads of it, after all, but it didn't affect him. He quietly followed one of the guys, remained behind him at a safe distance as he knelt on the ground and aimed his deadly weapon at the approaching target.

"Shǎ guā," he muttered when he felt Rufus's hand on his shoulder.

They could hear the engine now. She would soon be within range. The blood of her crew would be on Mal's hands, not his.

But there'd still be blood.

Someone somewhere laughed hysterically.

Jayne turned towards Rufus and slipped his arm across his shoulders, pulling him a little closer.

"I'm sorry, man," Rufus said.

Jayne twisted around and slammed his head into a tree trunk. The gorramn idiot slumped to the ground with a groan, and Jayne raced up to the missile handler, treated him to a solid kick in the head, then wrestled the launcher out of his hands.

Someone yelled, but Jayne had his battle walls up. He ignored it.

He ran out into the field, hoisted the launcher up onto his shoulder, and took aim, knowing very well that this might be the most important shot of his life.

He fired.

The missile missed by inches. It exploded off the port bow, rattling the ship, but not piercing it. Others followed, fired from all across the camp, but Serenity's pilot was no fool, as Jayne well knew, and none hit home, except the last one that grazed the tail end as the ship roared into full speed.

Jayne saw her fly away, trailing a cloud of black smoke. And then they were on him.