Chapter 11

Meanwhile...

Kaylee had even been able to doze off a little after her vidphone talk with Inara. Even from so far away, her friend had the same calming effect on her as always. She'd listened while Kaylee tried to recount all that had happened without giving away too many details; the Feds doubtlessly monitored their conversation, and the last thing she wanted was getting the captain or the Tams, or Inara for that matter, into trouble. No names, nor any crimes were ever mentioned. It wasn't necessary. Inara knew them all well. She got the picture.

She'd promised Kaylee she would help. She hadn't said how or when, she likely didn't know herself, but Kaylee believed her. "Don't tell them anything," the companion instructed her, just like Mal had done. "You have the right to remain silent, and it would be the best course of action right now."

So, when the Feds told her their five minutes were up and pulled her back to the interrogation, she did just that, even when they yelled, even when her mouth went dry with fear, and after about half an hour, they gave up and took her back to the holding cell. "Sleep on it, love," Harry had said as he pushed her inside, "and we'll try again tomorrow. I know how to make a girl scream."

The still smoking woman rolled her eyes. "In your dreams."

"Shut up, Linda!"

Linda just shook her head. "Never mind him," she said to Kaylee once the door was slammed shut. "You manage to get in touch with someone?"

"Yes. And thank you."

"This your first time, hon?"

Kaylee nodded, even though it wasn't; just the first time on her own.

"Ain't as powerful as they like to think." Linda nodded in the general direction of the front office. "They got bosses, see, and their bosses got bosses, and there are all these rules and regulations. But sleep, kiddo, if'n you can. Things look better in the morning. 'Cept me, of course, I look like a gorramn scarecrow in the morning. I'm more of a midnight gal."

And Kaylee had slept, even if only for a short while, huddled in a corner, to the sound of the drunk woman's snoring and the low, sad singing of Linda the whore.

When the jail door was thrown open in the morning (or what she at least thought was the morning) and Harry popped his head in, Kaylee was certain he was back to make good on his promises. Instead, it was to inform her that she had a visitor.

"A visitor?" Kaylee blurted out. Then she thought of Inara. But that couldn't be. Shinon was more than a week away, even with the fastest ship. And then she thought of Mal. Had the captain come for her? But he would surely be arrested too, if so, and maybe they'd all returned, and he had been arrested...

"Yeah, your lawyer's here."

"My what?"

They entered the front office and Kaylee's eyes immediately fell upon a middle-aged man in a dark blue hanfu suit. How could they not? He was big, like really big, taller than Jayne and a lot fatter. And he smiled from ear to ear as he reached out a huge hand to shake hers. "Indigo Hanson, attorney at law! Nice to meet you, Miss Frye."

"Hi," she replied, a little, no, a lot taken aback.

He turned to the Feds, who all stared at him with impudent disdain. "Is there someplace where I may confer with my client in private?"

They were taken to the vidphone room, and as soon as they were left there alone, Indigo Hanson confirmed her suspicion. "Miss Serra sent me."

"You got here so fast!"

"Not really. I live and practice on Aberdeen, it's only an hour or so by fast-burn shuttle. Now, I understand you find yourself in a pickle?"

Kaylee was unsure of how much to tell him, but as it turned out, she didn't have to tell him anything. He already knew the gist of it, and only asked her to confirm a few things. "I believe we have a good case here, Miss Frye," he smiled afterwards, and gallantly opened the door for her.

She felt tiny next to his enormous frame as he led her back to the office, but in a good way; safe and protected. She felt even better when she saw how the purplebellies, five of them now, glared daggers at her new bodyguard. They were clearly annoyed.

"My client wishes to be released immediately," Hanson declared.

Harry snorted. "Your client is bound by law for theft."

Hanson never stopped smiling. "According to The Penal Code of the UAP, paragraph nine, subparagraph three, my client must be presented for a judge within twenty-four hours of the time of arrest, or you will have no rights to hold her for any longer than that."

"Look around you, Mister," Harry sneered. "This is hardly a metropolis. We only have a circuit judge who comes here once a week. The next visit is scheduled in five days, and we are well within our rights to keep her until then."

"I realize this," Hanson grinned. "But seeing as I was coming here anyway, I took the liberty of bringing the judge with me. She's setting up in the schoolhouse as we speak."

Kaylee had to bite her lip not to laugh at the look on Harry's face. He exchanged a quick glance with one of the other officers, but pulled himself together and forced a smile. "Very well."

Less than ten minutes later Kaylee was led into the school across the street, and in front of a skinny, bespectacled woman who looked like she wished to be anywhere else. She wasted no time starting the procedures; Kaylee hadn't even come to a stop before she began. "This is a preliminary hearing of case two-five-one-eight thirty-six: The Union of Allied Planets versus Kaywinnet Lee Frye, Judge Martha Sorensen presiding. The court is in session." She struck the table in front of her with the gavel and addressed the group of Feds. "You may present your case."

Harry spoke on their behalf. "We received a tip about a Firefly carrying a shipment of stolen medicine, Your Honor. When a ship of that class landed here yesterday, the prudent thing seemed to be to seize it and take Miss Frye into custody."

"She's the owner of the ship?"

"She was the only one there."

"But not the owner?"

"No, Your Honor."

Judge Sorensen looked at Kaylee. Her eyes were strict, but not unkind, and they reminded her of her old Sunday school teacher back home in Tankerton, Kowlonshi. "This is correct?"

"She's the chief mechanic, Your Honor," Hanson answered before Kaylee could. Apparently, the don't-say-anything rule still applied. Still, she appreciated the added 'chief'. It made her sound mighty important.

"And the captain and the crew?"

"On shore leave, Your Honor," Hanson said. Which was sort of not a lie, just a little tweaking of the truth.

"I see." The judge turned back towards Harry. "And you found this stolen shipment when you searched the ship?"

Harry hesitated. Sorenson looked impatiently at him over the rim of her glasses. "No, Your Honor," he eventually replied.

"You didn't? But Miss Frye confessed to the crime?"

"No, Your Honor."

"So, what you're telling me is that there's absolutely no evidence for a crime even having taken place?"

"The rest of the crew is clearly out fencing the goods!" Harry protested.

"That's not what this hearing's about, Officer. This is a hearing about whether there's sufficient evidence to charge Miss Frye for any criminal conduct and justify her continued imprisonment. So far, I have been presented with no such evidence." She pulled off her glasses. "You mean to tell me I've been dragged from my very busy schedule on Aberdeen and all the way out here, for absolutely nothing?"

Harry didn't answer, but dropped his gaze. Judge Sorensen shook her head and put her glasses back on. "The case is dismissed," she declared. "The accused will be released, effective immediately." She struck the gavel against the table. "Miss Frye, your ship and its contents will be released to you. You're free to go."

And with that she rose and strode out of the room.

Hanson turned to Kaylee, brimming with delight. "I'd say that went well."

"Was that it?" Kaylee asked, a little bewildered, as she watched the Feds file out of the room, muttering amongst themselves. "Was that even real?"

"Absolutely! A real attorney, a real judge, and a real court. The case, however, was bollocks, pardon my language." Hanson lowered his voice. "These men reek of corruption if you ask me. If I were you, I'd get off this moon as soon as possible."

"I will," she nodded. "And thank you!" She hesitated, still not quite believing her luck. "Do I owe any-?"

"My services are paid for, Miss Frye," he interjected and offered her his arm. "Now, let's go and collect your personal items, and then you can be on your way."

"Thank you," she said again, accepting his arm.

And thank you, Inara.

Gosh, it really paid off having friends in high places.

"You should have asked for those coordinates," Book finally let out. "We owe him that much."

"We'll find him," Mal shot back, a little harshly. Not because he knew how, but because he didn't want to deal with it just yet. He was still processing his own feelings: regret, dejection, anger. Mostly anger. Which was good. He knew what to do with anger.

Lashing out at the preacher, or anyone else among the crew for that matter, was likely not the best way to deal with it, though. And Book had had the decency to wait until they were nearly back at the ship, even though the words must have been burning inside him for the whole twenty-minute ride.

"So, what's the plan now?"

Simon was the first to latch on, of course.

"We make the drop," Mal replied. He knew he sounded cynical and steeled himself for the protests, but at that precise moment they crested the last hill and had a clear view of Serenity. The sight of barricade tape crisscrossing their ship put an effective stop to the discussion.

"River," Simon breathed, while Mal, still rushing with adrenaline, pulled the Dragonfly to a sudden stop in front of the open ramp. A quick look inside revealed a sorry mess in the cargo bay, but no Feds.

"What in the tiān xiă de happened here?" the captain exclaimed, as if the others could answer that question.

"They took her," Simon panted.

"Wash?" Zoë called.

"Oh, I hear'em now," a voice sounded from inside the ship, and the next moment Kaylee came running down the ramp towards them. She had a radio receiver in her hand. "They just got back, Wash."

"What in the rutting hell!" Mal shouted and jumped off the truck. "Where's Wash?"

"And River!" Simon added and followed his lead. Zoë and Book climbed off too.

"Wash is here," Kaylee replied and waved the radio at Mal. "Why would you turn off your transmitter?"

Mal had no answer to that. He'd totally forgotten to turn the radio back on, and the plan to check in on his crew had been lost in all the commotion. "Where?" he said.

"The radio," Kaylee replied.

"I get that. But where is he radioing from?"

"I don't know. You talk to him." She tossed him the radio.

"Wash!" he shouted into it as soon as it was in his hand. "What happened to my boat?"

"Got seized. Kaylee got arrested."

"Kaylee's right here!"

"I'm not arrested anymore," Kaylee not-so-helpfully clarified. "Don't fret, Simon, River's safe. She's with Wash."

"Where?" Simon asked.

"How come you're not arrested anymore?" Mal drowned him out with his own question. "How come you got pinched in the first place?"

"I... I'll tell you later. You need to talk to Wash. He's with Jayne."

"Jayne? I thought you said he was with River?"

"Where's River?" Simon demanded to know.

"With Wash," Kaylee responded.

"And Jayne?" Book stepped forward.

"Hello-o-o?" Wash's voice crackled from the radio.

Zoë pulled the receiver from Mal's hands. "Where are you, dear?"

"In the woods, somewhere. We had to hide, and River..."

"Is she okay?" Simon interrupted.

"She's fine. But Jayne..."

Mal took the radio back. "You got Jayne there with you?"

"That's what I'm trying to say, gorramn it!"

"He's dead?"

"No, he's not dead, but if we all just talk some more, he might be. He's hurt real bad."

"Shot?"

"No, but hurt! I need the doctor here, mǎ shàng!"

Mal turned to Simon. "Get your kit!"

As if someone had turned a switch, Simon snapped from fretting-big-brother mode into doctor mode and took off towards the infirmary. "Now, where is here?" Mal asked Wash, and then looked at Zoë, who was staring intently at her GPS unit.

"I got his transmitter," she declared. "'Bout ten miles north-east."

"Alright. Stay put, Wash, we're comin' to you." Mal turned to Kaylee. "How you doin' with those repairs?"

"Almost done."

"Good girl. Finish it. I want us airborne as soon as possible."

"I'll stay and help," Book offered as Simon returned with his bag and Zoë loaded the stretcher and the rescue kit onto the Dragonfly.

They were off in seconds.

Mal left the radio to Simon and the navigation to Zoë as they tore through the woods. That was the best thing about hover trucks; they worked just as smoothly offroad, even if he had to swerve a tree or twelve. He really had to get one of these.

They spotted River first. She was rather noticeable in her bright pink sweater, sitting on a rock halfway up a steep slope, looking intently at the drama unfolding in front of her. Wash's head poked out from behind a tree. "Thank God you're here," he shouted as they approached. "I think he's choking!"

Mal had been a little worried that the presence of River would distract his medic from doing his job, but he should have learned by now that his concerns were unsubstantial. The truck had barely stopped moving, before Simon leaped from it and rushed over to the downed body by Wash's feet, pulling his stethoscope from his bag.

Mal looked at Jayne and felt his hands clench. Moab's "beaten to a pulp" seemed appropriate. He suddenly regretted letting Svetlana and her people off so easy.

Simon was listening to Jayne's chest with a deepening frown on his face. "Pneumothorax," he diagnosed, quickly rummaging through his bag, and then for the sake of his non-medically trained audience, elaborated, "Collapsed lung. Air is leaking into his chest cavity, preventing the lung from expanding. I'm going to decompress."

He pulled out a long needle, and Jayne didn't even react when he plunged it into his chest. Wash winced, though, and turned away, but Mal didn't, and the look of relief that fell over Jayne's face when Simon removed the seal and air hissed out through the needle, made it all worth it.

Zoë came over with the rescue kit, and Simon instructed her to put the cervical collar on the patient while he moved on to the leg, which was bleeding and clearly broken. He peeled away the bandage and inspected the wound, and Mal almost turned away this time. He'd seen a lot during the war, but exposed bone was not a sight you ever got used to.

"You did good, Wash." Simon looked up. "You stopped the bleeding."

Wash said nothing, just glanced down at his blood covered hands. Zoë laid a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"There's another fracture down here," Simon thought out loud, then glanced up at Mal. "I'm going to need something to immobilize this with before we move him."

Mal nodded. "On it."

"Mal?"

The sound of Jayne's hoarse voice surprised them all, even River, it would appear, as she lifted her head and looked at him.

"Take it easy, Jayne," Simon admonished.

"Mal?" Jayne said again, a little louder, a bit more desperate.

Mal crouched down next to him. "I'm here."

"R…us Mi..er."

"Rufus Miller, yeah, I remember him. He the one done this to you?"

"Shot me."

"He shot you?" Mal threw Simon a quizzical frown and the doctor hurriedly tore open the t-shirt to look for bullet wounds.

"Wi.. m'own gun," Jayne slurred. He'd managed to open his left eye a little, and he tried to turn his head, but was hindered by the neck brace.

"Ah, here." Simon had found the wound near his right hip. "It's only a scratch," he declared.

"He tried to kill you with that?" Mal asked. "Huh, you weren't exaggerating the state of his shooting skills."

"Jayne, save your strength," Simon insisted, words Mal realized was just as much aimed at him.

"We can talk about this later," he said.

"No!" The desperation was back in Jayne's weak voice. He seemed to know, like the rest of them, that there might not be a later. "He knows. Mal…?"

"What does he know?"

"Things… secrets… for mo…y."

"Info broker," Mal nodded.

"Knows 'bout you. And… Tams."

Simon was in the process of filling a syringe, but stopped at the mention of his last name. His eyes flashed to Mal, who glanced up from Jayne to meet them.

"He knows about the Tams?"

"Didn't tell'm." Jayne tried to reach out for him, but his hand fell limply back to the ground. "I didn't tell'm."

"I believe you," Mal said, firmly. And he did, he really did. "Let the doctor tend to you now, okay?"

He nodded to Simon, who finished prepping the syringe. "This will help with the pain," he said as he jabbed it into Jayne's upper arm.

Mal stood to continue his search for something to use as a splint. His eyes met Zoë's, where she stood a few steps away, still stroking her husband's back.

She'd heard. And she knew.