1620 Hours, December 6, 2542

Algol System, aboard SDV-Class Heavy Corvette Elegy's Lament

John shifted from one foot to the other. He looked first at the wall, then the floor, and finally the ceiling – anywhere but the gaze of the woman standing alongside him.

Linda, in turn, stared directly at him with a bemused smirk and slightly raised an eyebrow. "You doing okay there, boss?" she asked.

He groaned uncomfortably. "Shut up," he responded.

They were meeting with a new client. One he was decidedly uncomfortable with meeting, but it was a job – a good job, that was likely to pay well for once. And they needed the money, now more than ever.

The door in front of them swished open and a diminutive creature beckoned them forward with a squeaky voice and oversized arms. It squealed something in a language that neither of them spoke, but it clearly expected them to follow.

The corvette's bridge was awash in a dim red light, casting shadows that seemed all the more untrustworthy. Being on the bridge of a formerly Covenant vessel made John's skin crawl under normal circumstances, but what made it even worse was who they were coming to deal with.

The massive Brute sprawled in his command couch. His face was etched with scars, one of his eyes blinded.

"Captain," he boomed, voice loud as thunder, "I have been expecting you."

"I'd certainly hope so," John answered with as much calm bravado as he could muster. "We've been waiting in the foyer for half an hour."

A sharp-toothed grin passed across the creature's face. "My apologies. I was dealing with a . . . former associate of mine."

John didn't like the hesitation in his voice. It was sinister. But he didn't have much time to worry about it. "I'll have to trust that business went well," he said instead. "And on that note, we'd like to discuss the nature of our own business dealings."

"Of course," the beast – Escharum, according to Maggie – said enthusiastically. "Indeed we do have urgent business which needs attention. Your name, and that of your ship, is very highly regarded in our circles. I have heard much of your reputation." He paused again, offering them another carnivorous smile. "What have you heard of me?"

There was no shortage of answers to that question. Escharum's reputation was known far and wide – he abandoned the Covenant decades ago, and since then had made himself a massive thorn in their side. Creating a criminal empire, funding the small-timers like John, and generally causing mayhem wherever there was a credit to be made in doing so.

Even more well known was his reputation for killing – and in extreme cases eating – those who failed him.

"I've heard a thing or two," John said with a smile of his own and a nod.

"Allow me to confirm at least one rumor, captain," Escharum growled. He waved with two fingers, and a bloodied man was dragged into the room stretched between two brute aides. "This man used to work for me, in a function quite similar to the one which you are accepting." He turned to them and offered one more toothy smile. "He failed me."

With that, one of the aides raised a spiker and shot the man in the chest.

With a yelp the body stretched between the two went limp, then was dropped with a thud to the metal floor.

"Now," Escharum said, his voice sounding like stones grinding against each other. "You no longer have to wonder about my reputation." He nodded almost conspiratorially at the pair. "I look forward, with much enthusiasm, to receiving similar proof of yours."

Sefton System, aboard freighter Serenity

"I don't like this."

Fred had probably said it a dozen times in the past hour alone, never mind since they first decided to take the job from a Brute.

"At this point, it isn't about whether we like the job or not," John answered. "It's about keeping our bird in the air and needing money to do it."

Fred twirled a knife through his fingers and huffed. "I still don't like it," he responded sullenly.

John sighed and ran a hand though his close-cropped hair. "Let's run through this one more time," he said tiredly. "Our target is located on Tarsus, one of the moons of the gas giant Greydowns. There's a train there that runs from the space station to a settlement a few hundred kilometers away."

"You, Fred, and I will be on that train as passengers," Kelly cut in. "We'll identify the target and get it ready for pickup."

"Once you activate the beacon," Linda continued, "Serenity and I will come in, drop the winch for you to attach the package, and haul all of you out before the train ever gets to the settlement."

"And then we fly off and sell whatever's in that package to something we'd be an awful lot better off killing than –" Fred said, spinning the knife ever more frantically in his hand.

"You've made your point," Kelly groaned tiredly.

John couldn't blame Fred. They'd spent most of their lives either fighting or on the run from the species that made up the Covenant, and the Brutes were more dangerous than most. However, beggars couldn't be choosers – Escharum was willing to pay them good money for this shipment, and they needed that money.

"This is the job, and we're doing it," John said with finality. "We touch down at the space port in three hours, and we board the train an hour after that. Anyone with second thoughts, I recommend you come to terms with them by then."

The room grew silent until, one by one, the crew slipped out.

They remained that way – quiet, contemplative, the way they always got before a mission. The nature of their missions had changed over the past few years, but the nature of the people hadn't. It was one of a very few things that managed to help John stay grounded in this upside-down galaxy.

John distractedly paced the ship, his mind entrenched in the upcoming job. He was so engrossed in his own thoughts that he nearly failed to register the sound of screaming coming from the medbay. He raced to the doorway to see Cortana clutching Joy close to her chest, whispering soothing sounds into her hair.

"Where are we?" the girl asked a few times, tears staining her sister's white shirt. "Are we going home?"

Cortana slowly ran a hand through her sister's hair. "No," she gently reminded her, "we can't go home, remember? We're safer here. We get to have more adventures."

Eventually, the girl stopped squirming. "Not home," she said definitively. "Better?"

"Yes," Cortana answered immediately, flashing a bright, if forced, smile. "We're on a ship. Remember how we always talked about flying on a ship?"

Joy pulled free of her sister's arms and stood, examining the infirmary. "The medbay is 14 meters squared, sitting amidships. Single satellite communications relay, no weapons, Firefly class freighter." She crossed her arms and nodded once, almost proudly.

"Well that's a ten-credit trick," John said, ducking his head to enter the small room. "Not even I could list all of that off the top of my head."

Cortana offered him a strained smile. "Yes," she said, "Joy's talents seem to be quite . . . something."

"Sure do," John remarked. "But if you'd be so inclined as to do me a favor, I think it's in all of our better interests that she not advertise those talents while we're groundside. This job is supposed to be a short one, and the less attention we draw to ourselves while we do it, the better."

"Of course," Cortana said, rising to her feet herself. "And what exactly is this job we're doing?"

John scoffed, looking the doctor up and down. "Not to be unfriendly, Doc, but 'we' aren't doing anything. The four of us have it handled, you just take care of your little sister here." He turned back out the door.

"If you don't want my help, captain, why am I still here?"

Cortana's voice was guarded. Untrusting. No doubt she was worried about John's intentions. He would be, in her shoes.

"You're here to stitch us up when the job goes poorly," he said without turning to face her. "Frankly, I'd be happy if we never needed your help."

He stepped out the door before she could continue the conversation. There was something about her that unsettled John. Worse than that, there was something about her that made him concerned for her, and for her sister. For some reason he almost felt protective of them. With a shrug, he resolved to not think about it.

Entering the cargo bay, he nearly tripped over Avery, who was spread out in the pushup position on the ground just past the doorway. The other man jumped to his feet, showing a surprising dexterity for someone of his age, while John made his way to the foot of the stairs.

"Those are some brave ladies," Johnson said, staring at the door separating them from the medbay. "Can't imagine what Cortana sacrificed to get that little one back."

"Sure are," John said dismissively. "I'm sure someday they'll make a gripping holodrama about their daring exploits." He began climbing the steps.

"You're pretty brave yourself," Avery continued, drawing the captain back. "Can't say as I've met many men willing to stick their neck out for a couple of strangers like that."

John stopped in his tracks and looked back at Johnson, who in turn was eyeing him. "Well, the money is good," he said casually. "Besides, it's never a bad idea to keep someone like Maggie happy with you. She even lined us up for this job."

"That so?" Avery asked, thoughtfully tapping a finger against his chin.

"Undoubtedly. In fact," John turned his body and descended a few steps, watching Avery all the while. "I'm a little surprised that you haven't been after a piece of the job. You seem the industrious type."

Johnson turned to him, and a chagrined smile slowly spread across his face. "Truth be told, son, I've killed my fair share. More than. And I've survived too many men and women far more deserving than myself. After a while, all the blood . . . it wears on you, no matter how hardcore you think you are. I lost my stomach for the killing." Avery sighed heavily and wiped a hand over his face. "Went so far as to make a pact with the good people at Southdown Abbey," he laughed.

"You didn't strike me for a pacifist," John said. Meridian's Southdown Abbey was notorious for sending out missionaries, especially following the Covenant's push for humanity to accept their religion. John was surprised he'd never picked up on the clues before. Religious folk didn't often tend to break much bread with his kind, but Johnson was definitely cut from a different cloth than most.

"I don't strike you that way because I'm not that way," the older man returned vehemently. "But I've made some promises lately to some things that are bigger than myself. Still learning how to take a more passive approach to life."

"There's honor to that decision," John said. "Unfortunately, I haven't as yet gathered such an honorable disposition. Now while we're gone, Linda's in charge. I trust that won't be a problem."

Johnson raised his eyebrows. "You mean to tell me you're leaving me alone on a ship with four lovely young ladies for the better part of a day?" he asked with a twinkle in his eye. "No, captain, I don't think that will be a problem."

John smiled in return and clapped a hand on Avery's shoulder. The old man was a shameless flirt, but he was cut from dependable cloth. With a nod, the captain turned and climbed the stairs out of the cargo bay.

Soon enough, they touched down in the station on Tarsus. John distributed the ID cards and passes that Escharum's people had provided – Fred's name was Wilf Peralta, Kelly was his new bride Olivia, and John was Olivia's cousin Malcolm. They were listed as natives of the colony Arcadia, mostly due to the untrue rumor that Arcadia spawned unnaturally large, muscled denizens in response to the planet's rather unfriendly flora and fauna.

Anyone who'd done some traveling would see through the ruse in an instant but, as the whole crew had learned from experience, most people in the 'Verse were more concerned with keeping themselves alive than with their unexpectedly large neighbor across the aisle.

Linda gave one last admonition to "Be safe out there," as they descended the ramp, and Fred and Kelly took on the personas of moon-eyed lovers as well as they could. It was bizarre, seeing them wander around hand in hand and whispering to each other all the time, but he had to admit they were doing a good job of selling the cover.

They boarded the train without incident, finding their places in the passenger car right away. They were barely five minutes under way before Kelly's knee began to bounce up and down with nervous energy.

"Shouldn't we start checking the train?" she asked, irritated. "We're losing daylight."

John couldn't help but smile. "I think the three of us poking around might get a tad obvious," he remarked. He then turned to Fred and raised his eyebrows. "But if a newlywed couple wandered off for some privacy . . ."

Fred rolled his eyes but rose to his feet alongside Kelly. "We'll explain our way into the baggage cart."

John nodded with a smirk. "I'll be back there in ten minutes. Try not to make too big a mess."

Kelly tapped her foot impatiently. "If you two are done talking, then," she said, then grabbed Fred by the hand, dragging him along behind her and out of the passenger car.

John did his best to not look anxious while he allowed the time to pass. To pass the time, he took stock of the people on the train around him. There were whole families, single passengers, and everything in between. They all looked . . . tired. Defeated. They looked how he spent most of his time trying to convince himself he didn't feel.

He beat a quick retreat from the cabin. He didn't have time to think like that.

His retreat suddenly became slowed in the second car he passed through on his way to the baggage. When he stepped through the door he came face to face with twenty armed Covenant soldiers. One of them, the squad leader by the looks of it, nodded brusquely to him as he made his way through. John did his best not to make eye contact with any of them.

He finally encountered his crew in the final passenger car before the baggage section.

"This whole deal just went from bad to worse in no time flat," Kelly whispered harshly. Luckily for them, this last car was sparsely populated, with maybe a dozen people in a coach built to seat nearly 100. They had plenty of time to converse without drawing attention to themselves or being overheard.

"You found the mark?" he asked. None of it would matter if the goods were inexplicably missing.

"Oh, we found it alright," she answered. "It's marked and ready to go. Not that it does us any good now."

Fred, silent until now, finally broke in. "We're ready to go. Hit the beacon and let's finish this."

Kelly rounded on him incredulously. "There's nearly two dozen of the Covenant's finest right behind us," she hissed. "Don't pretend you didn't see them. The job is a bust."

"Of course I saw them," Fred whispered back, a dangerous gleam in his eyes, "but this job isn't even close to busted yet. The only thing those respectable young men and women back there will be able to do is make this more fun."

Kelly stared at him in disapproving silence before turning to John. "I'm afraid my husband has misplaced the thinking part of his brain again," she said.

"Come on, think about it," Fred argued. "We get the crate, we make our money, and we make the Covvies look all manner of stupid for letting it happen not twenty meters from their watch. There's really not a losing situation here."

"Unless you factor in the likelihood that we don't step off this train," Kelly retorted. "Besides, weren't you the one bemoaning this job in the first place?"

"Yes," Fred conceded, "but that was before it got exciting."

John sighed and rubbed his hand across his face so hard it stretched the skin. He looked between the pair – each representing valid options going forward with the job. Finally, he settled on a decision.

"We're finishing the job," John said, pointedly ignoring the way Kelly rolled her eyes. "Show me the crate."

Fred grinned and led the trio to the luggage. Within the next car was a crate, already situated in the center.

"Exfil?" he asked, glancing around the room.

"The center of the roof retracts," Kelly answered, crossing her arms and tapping her foot again. "It's the same way they load the cargo in the first place."

"And our ride?"

"Called it as soon as you gave the green light," Fred answered from where he was affixing a trip wire to a smoke bomb at the door. "Serenity should be here any minute now."

"Open the hatch," Linda gruffy cut in as if on cue, her voice scratchy through the communication device in John's ear. "I'm freezing out here."

Kelly keyed in a code and the roof slid back. The quiet car suddenly filled with roaring wind, quickly followed by Linda's shadow and then the woman herself. She dropped into the car, suspended from a cable that ran directly into Serenity's hangar. Linda landed directly atop the crate, fluidly reaching around herself to detach the cable tether and hand it to Kelly.

The wind rushing through the car was so loud that no one registered the door swish open until a Covenant soldier was shouting and Fred's smoke bomb began to fill the air with a blinding fog.

The Covvie started firing, wildly spraying plasma rounds into the car. "Linda, go now!" John shouted over the noise, then turned to the door. John hit the young man once, with just enough force to knock him out without killing him.

When he turned back, Linda and the crate were already up the hatch. He barely caught sight of Serenity as she peeled off before the hatch slid shut and he was carried through the doorway by Fred and Kelly. The trio just managed to snake their way back into the passenger car before the rest of the Covenant soldiers poured into the baggage compartment.

"I told you," Kelly hissed as soon as they were confidently out of earshot of the soldiers. "This thing went sideways the second we boarded the train."

John coughed, choking on the copious amount of smoke. Kelly had a point, but they weren't out of options yet. "We got the cargo and Serenity's in the wind," he managed to get out around the smoke. "We'll make our break as soon as we can and still meet Escharum's men for the drop." He fell silent again as a soldier rushed past them toward the front of the train.

Allowing time for the soldier to get back out of earshot, and letting enough smoke clear out to make the situation survivable again, John finally leaned forward toward his crewmates. "Cheer up, cousin," he said to Kelly, "we're almost in the clear. All we have to do now is lay low until we get to Paradiso."