SUMMARY:  Post-Serenity story.  When these five kinds [of spies] are all at work, none can discover the secret system.  This is called divine manipulation of the threads. -Sun Tze

*****

Jayne marched up to the whorehouse, doin' his best impression of a tightass Alliance guard, spit-shined boots 'n all.  Air down here on Eunomia weren't warm, seein' as the rock was parked wrong side of Themis just now, and Jayne's face felt especially cold without his beard.  Frowning, Jayne used both hands to open the swinging saloon doors, pausing in the entryway to survey Xi He's.

Weren't much, truth be told, just a dank old bar stinkin' of drink and lust.  Lots of guards in their bū piādiàng purple vests, most of 'em splayed in seats with half-dressed whores gyratin' in their laps.  As he scanned the room, Jayne's gaze lingered on a couple of the prettier girls, he but didn't let himself get distracted by their wares.  A guard with an ugly overbite and an uglier girl slitherin' about on his lap nodded at Jayne as he stepped around them.

Jayne kept moving, intending on getting a drink and then getting Kaylee the hell out of this place.  Sidling up next to a guard braggin' on beating the prisoners, Jayne leaned against the bar and looked for Kaylee.  Ruttin' place was like a dozen Jayne'd patronized in the past, but the thought of Kaylee in here all painted up for show didn't set right with him.  She weren't like them whores.

'Course then he caught sight of her, sitting at the bar having a tense conversation with the proprietor, and just about fell over.  Little Kaylee was showing more of her skin than Jayne'd ever seen, wearing just a small top that held her năizi out like an offering, plus a shiny skirt barely covering her ass.  Kaylee's hair was all done up in ringlets, and she was sitting on barstool, legs crossed all proper, lookin' intimidated.

Much as the sight made Jayne uncomfortable, he had to admit little Kaylee blended in here in a way 'Nara or Zoe never would have.  Signaling the bartender over, Jayne got himself a small mug of shaoxing jui and tossed it back.  With a satisfied sigh, he sauntered toward Kaylee, who was getting a talkin'-to from an aging woman Jayne figured to be Xi He.

"Listen, little Kate," Madame said, leaning across the bar so far that Jayne wondered if she'd spill right out of her dress.  "I been pretty patient goin' on three nights, what with your injury and all--"  Kaylee flushed and folded her burned fingertips out of sight as Madame continued-- "but I can't afford to be putting up little girls won't pay their way."

"I know," Kaylee agreed, sounding nervous.  "I sure am sorry."

"Don't need apologies," Madame answered, her expression downright unfriendly under that painted-on smile.  "Need some coin."

Jayne took the opening.  "Mĕi xiăoshí duōshĭo qián?" he asked, sliding his hand 'round Kaylee's bare midsection.  Girl had nice skin, all soft-like, and he let his fingers wander a bit.  She stiffened against him.

"One silver," Madame answered, her tone sugar sweet.  "Or five for the night.  She's fresh."

"Can see that," Jayne answered pulling Kaylee closer.  "Fresh off a transport, most like."  He felt the jolt go through her when she realized whose hands were on her.  Jayne tapped her ribcage in warning, and then answered the Madame, "I'll take her."

Madame accepted Jayne's payment and gave Kaylee a hard look.  "Go on, now."

Kaylee slid off the stool, turning to face him with wide, surprised eyes.  She scanned him, from his jaunty hat all the way down to his shiny boots, her gaze pausing on his bare chin.  Impatient to be out of the saloon proper, Jayne lifted an eyebrow at her, and said, "Take me to bed, little gūniang."

Kaylee looked like she wanted to slug him, but she took his hand instead and led him across the floor, through the sagging double doors, and down the hall to her room.  Weren't much smaller than her quarters on Serenity, but at Xi He's, she had only a small trunk for her clothes and a bed.

A big bed, covered with shiny red fabric, real inviting-like, parked beneath a small, high-set window and an overhead lamp that cast a dim glow.  Jayne pushed the flimsy door shut behind him and sprawled across the mattress, leering up at her.  "C'mere, little Kaylee."

"Jayne," she whispered, smacking his leg.  "What are you doing here?"  She was still staring at him; seemed a bit gob-smacked he'd shown up here.  Gorram girl wasn't makin' the logical connections just yet.

"What's it look like?" Jayne growled, tapping a dismissive hand against his purple vest.  Ruttin' thing pinched a bit, seein' as how it was made for pansyass Alliance types 'stead of real men.  Sitting up, he struggled to pull it off, tossing it against the door with a grunt.

Kaylee leaned closer, studying his expression.  "You're infiltrating--?"

"Gorram, girl, quit using words could get us killed," he hissed, his hands clamping down on her arms.  He pulled her down to the mattress beside him and leaned real close to her ear to whisper, "Ain't like I'm wandering the prisons playin' at bein' a guard in this getup."

Kaylee frowned.  "But you're all..." she shrugged.  "Purple."

"Look closer," he instructed, pointin' at his grimy old boots all shined up and tucked under pants that weren't quite the right shade o' tightass.  "Just needed the vest to get in here to check on you."

"Check on me?" Kaylee asked, shivering a bit.

Jayne tossed his ridiculous hat into the corner and toed off his boots.  "Lucky it's me," he answered, still speakin' low enough that anyone listening at the door would hear sounds 'stead of words.  "Mal's got a burr under his saddle 'bout your little caper."

"Ain't a caper," she hissed, pushing herself off the mattress.  Reaching into her trunk, she grabbed a long robe and pulled it on.  Didn't do much to hide her body, being near see-through and all, but Kaylee tugged the tie tight 'round her waist before joining him on the bed.  She sat cross-legged, pulling her skirts and the robe across her lap and ignoring the way he kept admirin' her thighs.  "I'm gatherin' information."

"Right," Jayne scoffed, settling on his side, head propped up on one hand.  "Like how big an Alliance yīnjīng is."

"Jayne!" Kaylee admonished, some o' that familiar fire back in her eyes now that she was past the shock.

"Sssh," he countered.  "You can gather all the information you want, ain't gonna do us a bit o' good you can't get it back to us."

Narrowin' her eyes, Kayle answered sounding put out.  "I explained this all to Inara.  I was going to stay long 'nough to get information, then wave her to--"

Jayne blew out his breath in irritation.  "Ain't like you can wave us to say you found the location of that chǔndàn we're lookin' to bust out of jail.  Waves ain't necessarily secure."

"Jayne," she admonished, her cheeks a bit pink, "thought we weren't s'posed to say nothin' could get us pinched."

"Look, you ain't a professional at this," Jayne told her.  "Too easy to slip up if you're thinkin' on how to help Little Sister.  I don't want you focused on nothin' but your next trick when you're down here."

"Ain't turned any yet," Kaylee admitted.

"Good," Jayne answered 'fore he could stop himself.  Weren't his business what Kaylee did, but he was downright giddy to hear she hadn't taken strange men to her bed just yet.  "You learn anything useful yet?"

"Yeah," she answered, brightening.  "Guys do a lot of braggin' here.  Seems silly."  Off his puzzled look, Kaylee shrugged.  "Ain't like you gotta impress someone if you're payin' 'em to sex you."

Jayne grinned.  "Always knew you was a sensible girl.  We got all night to exchange information, but you'd best make it sound like you're sexin' me good."

Kaylee rolled her eyes and shifted on the mattress.

Big smile sneakin' across his face, Jayne leaned back his head and raised his voice, "Oh, yeah, gūniang.  Jus' like that!"

*****

Zoe stopped in the passageway, hovering by the captain's door.  River had the helm, and Mal was off brooding after his argument with Simon turned to grappling.  Captain was too proud to ask the man that punched him to check his injuries.  Instead, he'd limped off to his quarters after declaring victory by virtue of it bein' his ship.  Also 'cause River had taken them off Themis before Simon could do something crazy like take off after Kaylee.

Weren't like the captain didn't have the exact same impulse, come right down to it, which is probably why they ended up knockin' each other about in the cargo bay -- well, Simon had punched Mal the one time, and then Mal had knocked Simon about the cargo bay.  Either way, they'd cracked the collapsible chicken coops during the melee.  Now that Zoe and Simon had recaptured the elusive birds, she figured she might as well check on Mal, make sure he wasn't nursin' any broken bones.

Inhaling deeply, Zoe pressed the buzzer and watched, a bit surprised, as the captain's door slid open.  He'd left it unlocked.  "It's me," she called, stepping onto the ladder and climbing down 'fore he could change his mind and shut her out.

Mal sat on his bed, blinking as he came fully awake, his hair a fright.  "Zoe," he greeted, snapping into focus.  "What's wrong?"  He scrubbed a hand over his face, then hissed in pain.

"Nothing new," Zoe assured him, moving toward the small desk and swiveling the chair around to sit.  "How're your knuckles?"

Glancing down at his bruised right hand, Mal shrugged.  "Fine.  Just need to ice it again later."  He flexed his fingers with a grimace, and Zoe knew he was right -- nothing broken or seriously injured, but he'd have trouble drawing down for a few days.  Most like, they'd run into trouble on Beylix now, just 'cause that's the way things went for them lately.  Captain looked the slightest bit sheepish when he asked, "What about the good doctor?"

"Two of you have matching black eyes," she answered, as the captain reflexively reached up to touch the swelling 'round his left eye, wincing a bit.  Zoe lifted an eyebrow.  "Did it help?"

Mal frowned.  "Did what help?"

"You and Simon beating on each other," Zoe clarified, her tone overly helpful.  They'd turned their frustration on each other, but Zoe suspected they each felt just as helpless as before, 'cept now they had aches and bruises.   "Do you feel any better?"

Captain's jaw clenched.  "Ain't jolly over the situation if that's what you're asking."

"None of us are," Zoe pointed out.  "But Kaylee's decision--"

"Ain't her decision to make," Mal interrupted, his tone hard and cold.  "There are plenty of other ways to get information."

"Do we have the coin for bribing low-level Alliance types?" Zoe asked.

Mal grimaced in lieu of an answer.  Leaning back, Zoe crossed her legs and studied him for a long moment.  Mal frowned, uncomfortable as always being the focus of attention weren't all-adoring.  "What?"

"You taking me to get this prisoner off Eunomia?" she asked, steeling herself for the inevitable lashing out.  Mal didn't take kindly to being challenged, but this particular subject was worth it.

Seemingly puzzled by the change in subject matter, Mal said, "Most like.  Depends on what information we get on the prison 'fore we go in."

Zoe let pass her observation that he didn't deny his intention to break this man out of prison, just because it would tweak the Alliance.  Pretty risky, but he'd always been willing to risk everything he had for what he thought was right.  Only trouble was he drew the line there -- everything he had -- instead of the combined efforts of his people.  Only exception was when all of their backs were well and truly up against the wall.  Even then, he usually offered them an out.

Shamed her to admit it, but she sometimes wished she and Wash had stayed on Haven and buried Shepherd Book.  She'd be a coward, but Wash would still be alive, and she figured that was a tradeoff she would've been able to accept.

Zoe pushed her husband's memory away and wrapped her arms around her midsection.  "What if I choose not to go?"

Mal stared at her, lookin' equal parts concerned and skeptical.  Made sense -- in all the years they'd known each other, Zoe'd never asked out of an operation.  He narrowed his eyes, studying her.  "Why?  What's wrong?"  His gaze flicked momentarily to her abdomen, and Zoe felt the cut of his unspoken question all the way to the bone.

But she wasn't carrying Wash's baby.  She had nothing left of him but some Hawaiian shirts and a few captures that she didn't have the strength to look at just yet.  "Nothing's wrong with me," she answered, hating the way her voice shook.  She cleared her throat.  "But if I decide to sit this one out, what would you do?"

He blew out a breath, ran his good hand through his hair, then shrugged.  "Guess I'd take Jayne, then.  You thinkin' on sitting out?"

"No," Zoe answered.  "Doesn't bother you that you might be taking me to my death?"

Mal recoiled.  "What're you on about?"

"I'm asking," she said.  "You make decisions that put people in danger.  You volunteered for the Independents and ended up a sergeant, and your decisions cost people their lives, Browncoats and Alliance."  He opened his mouth to interrupt, but she pushed on, "You captain this ship and you took us to Miranda, and that trip cost people their lives."

"You think I don't know that?" he exploded, on his feet now and pacing the length of his small quarters.  "You think I don't know the names of the men I lost in battle?  You think I don't carry Book and Wash with me?"

Every time she heard his name, it sliced through her, reopening her wounds.  But this wasn't about Wash, wasn't about her grief; it was about Mal, and she couldn't afford to get sidetracked.  She pressed a hand flat against her ribcage, trying to suppress the pain.  Even so, her voice was rough when she answered, "I know you do, sir.  But a leader has to be willing to risk his people in the fight."

"Not when it's an unnecessary risk," Mal countered angrily, limping a bit, and Zoe wondered just how hard he'd slammed into the collapsible chicken coop when Simon landed that punch.  "Not when the timing is wrong and we have to abandon her to do a job she ain't got no business doing."

"Jayne's there.  She has backup."

Rolling his eyes, Mal said, "She needs more.  Kaylee ain't trained for this, and all the proof I need is that she convinced Inara that she had a plan, and then went down there alone.  You don't spy without a way out 'less you're untrained or barmy."

"I could've gone," Zoe countered.  "I'm trained."

"Not as a whore," he shot back, his tone unnecessarily cruel.

"Inara's trained," Zoe answered, carefully neutral.

The captain's expression when he turned to look at her was murderous.  "I will not whore her out for money or for information."

Frustrated, Zoe shook her head at his willful ignorance.  "You think Inara doesn't know her rent has been keeping us afloat since Miranda?"

Mal winced, his entire body tensed to take on a rival.  Problem was, Inara's job weren't a man he could challenge to a duel.  "I can't tell Inara not to do her job."

"But you can tell Kaylee not to--?"

"Kaylee's a mechanic," captain interrupted, loud and angry.  "And she's risking herself in some harebrained scheme won't work anyway."

Zoe paused, considering dropping the subject, since they were still talkin' at cross-purposes.  That and Mal had an unshakeable big brother-type protectiveness for Kaylee, born the day she brought her Daddy aboard to meet her new boss.  Zoe sighed and said, "In situations like this, it can't always be just your decision."

"I'm the gorram captain!" Mal shot back, incredulous.  "It is always just my decision."

"Ain't suggesting this is a democracy," Zoe answered, her tone placating.  "I'm just saying that this ain't your fight alone, sir.  You've got people with talents, all just want to help.  Right now, you're not letting us."

"Right now, I ain't letting my crew die for nothing," Mal countered, looking haggard.

Anger flared, low and deep in her belly.  Zoe pushed herself upright, stood toe to toe with him.  "My husband didn't die for nothing."

Shaking his head, Mal said, "Zoe--"

"He died doing right," she continued, not even hearing Mal's protests.  Couldn't stop now; words came tumbling on a stream of anguish.  "Alliance killed him, by meddling where they shouldn't.  Just like they did with River's mind.  Ain't right, what they did, and going to Miranda was our only way of protecting her."  She paused, letting her words sink in, letting herself catch her breath.  Every time she inhaled, the oxygen stung her lungs.  Hurt just talkin' about Wash, no matter how necessary.  "I don't want to die, sir, but if I'm meant to die doing right, it'll be an honorable death.  Just like we talked about at Yeng-Wang-Yeh."

Mal stared at her, stunned to hear that name. "Yeng-Wang-Yeh," he repeated softly.  "I lost seventeen men the first day."

"I know.  You lost sixty-three, all told, but we held Yeng-Wang-Yeh."

"Didn't matter, in the end," he said, still bitter over the loss.

"Wasn't your war to win or lose," Zoe answered.  "Was your battle, and you won it.  You won it by letting your soldiers do their part, even if it cost them their lives."

"I'm not sensing a point," he gritted out, unwilling as ever to talk about the war, even with her who fought it with him.

Captain looked a mite confused as he watched her head for the ladder.  She paused, her hand on a rung, and faced him.  "If those sixty-three didn't give the rest of us cover and intel, we would've been massacred.  If we'd run away 'stead of riskin' everything to go to Miranda, we would all still be in danger.  When you play it too safe, you end up riskin' all of us."

Mal's expression hardened.  "I don't take kindly to being told how to run my ship."

Zoe smiled.  "You never did," she acknowledged, "but when you decide to rescue River's mollymawk, you're risking us all.  We're all willing, but the more we know, better we can prepare.  Kaylee's just doing what she can to help," Zoe pointed out.  Then she climbed up the ladder and into the passageway, pausing to take a deep breath before she headed for the bridge to check on River.

*****

Kaylee bounced beside Jayne, ignoring the way he stared at her breasts.  The mattress creaked and squealed, and Jayne added a groan that near rattled the walls.  Sounded pretty convincing, Kaylee figured, and at the very least, it gave them cover to discuss things knowin' they wouldn't be heard over all the sex noise.

"One of the guards," Kaylee continued softly, a mite breathless from their exertions, "boasted that he handled the really tough criminals, the murderers.  Said they're held by type of crime.  There's an acronym, then the prisoner's number.  Acronym tells you what they did."

"You got the breakdown?" he asked, his arms stretched above his head to knock the ratty headboard against the wall.  Sheen of sweat covered his skin, and he was breathin' near as heavy as Kaylee even though it was his turn to rest a bit.

"ACP is Alliance Criminal Prisoner," Kaylee answered, her words chopped up by the force of hitting the mattress with her knees.  Weren't near as fun as she remembered.

Jayne stopped short, wiping a hand across his sweaty brow as he sat up, looking as pensive as he ever did.  "Criminal prisoner," he muttered.  "Not overly specific as to what kind of crime."

"Jayne," Kaylee hissed, slapping his arm, still bouncing on the mattress to keep up the pretense.  His movement threw off her balance, and she nearly toppled into his lap.  She steadied herself with a hand on his shoulder, then started bouncing again.  "Gotta make it sound convincing."

"Right."  Leaning down, Jayne scooped his discarded boot off the floor and banged it rhythmically against the wall.  "How many of them codes do you know?"

"A few, probably not all," she admitted, shifting to the edge of the bed, gettin' some leverage from the floor to keep bouncing.  "I think the numbers tell you more, though.  Like killin' or thievin' or whatnot."  Jayne's gaze dropped to her thighs, and she smacked him again.  "Quit leerin', Jayne."  She leaned back her head and let out a throaty moan.  "Yes," she gasped, "like that."

Jayne's mouth dropped open and he looked a bit dazed.  "Damn, girl," he told her, "that jiāoqìbāu doctor of yours don't deserve you."

Kaylee came to a jarring halt beside Jayne.  She'd been tryin' not to think about Simon, hadn't even asked Jayne about him.  She was scared to hear how he'd reacted to her decision, how angry he was with her.  She was more afraid that to find out he didn't much care that she'd risked herself for River and for him.

"How is he?" she asked anyway, unable to look at Jayne.  She rubbed her burnt fingers, feeling the ghost of his healing touch as she waited for Jayne's answer.  Simon'd been so sweet that night, waking up all confused and worried, thinkin' she was River having an episode, of course.  But soon as Kaylee'd explained her injury, he'd jumped out of bed and ushered her into the medbay, touching her with that same sweet reverence as always.  'Least 'til River woke up screaming.

"Doc's same as always," Jayne answered, his tone dismissive.  "Hĕn jĭnzhāng derén over Little Sister."

"Oh," Kaylee answered, turning a little on the bed, staring at the maroon walls.  She'd expected as much, but she'd wanted -- it made her feel selfish and silly, but she'd hoped that he'd be at least a little worried about her, too.  Kaylee started to bounce again, but halfheartedly.  Probably couldn't even hear the mattress squeaking from the hallway.  "Does the Cap'n have a plan?"

Jayne tossed the boot aside and moved to sit beside her, matching her rhythm and tossing in an occasional bit of graphic appreciation for her imagined talents, not appearing to feel at all embarrassed by their playactin'.  "Faster, faster," he urged loudly.  "Not a good one," he answered her question quietly.  "Suppose they'll use the trip back from Beylix to come up with something better."

"Beylix?" Kaylee repeated, no longer bouncing, all the air goin' right out of her.  "They went to Beylix?  All of 'em?"

"All but me," Jayne answered, not seeming to notice her distress.  He loudly praised her flexibility, then explained, "Needed the coin."

They needed the coin.  They left her down here on Eunomia and headed for Beylix.   Weren't a fair assessment, Kaylee knew, since she'd decided to come down here all on her own and they really did need the coin to keep Serenity in the air.  She knew firsthand, seeing as how the Captain hadn't bought provisions so's he could afford the part Kaylee needed to patch up Serenity, but that didn't change the way she felt.  

It was stupid, but she'd sort of expected them to stay on Themis until she came back.  She was surprised how much it stung to learn they'd left her, even though she'd defied Cap'n by coming here at all.  She supposed she should be grateful they left Jayne.

Kaylee sat on the edge of the bed, her head down, until Jayne stopped bouncing beside her and nudged her with his elbow.  Then she stood and moved away from him.  Wouldn't do to keep mopin' over Simon.  She was here, now, and no matter what Jayne and Mal thought of her abilities, she had managed to learn some useful information.  "I shouldn't write this down," she warned, pacin' in the small space between the bed and the door.  "You can remember this, right?"

Jayne reached out to touch her elbow.  "Kaylee."  When she looked over at him, he moved farther onto the bed, lying on his side and waving her over.  "C'mere."  She stood still, watching him all wary-like, until he grimaced and added, a little exasperated, "I ain't gonna grope you, girl."

She was a bit skeptical when she crawled onto the mattress, because Jayne would grope any girl within reach, never mind one climbin' willingly into his bed.  Were her bed, technically speaking, but she didn't think that would rally matter to him.  A little shy, Kaylee moved closer, until she could feel his breath on her face.  Laying her head on the pillow, she met his gaze and noted with some surprise that he had nice eyes up close like this.  

Kaylee blinked and asked, "Will you remember all of this?"

"'Course," Jayne answered, his voice gruff.  "Gimme everything you got."

Kaylee began to talk, half-expecting to feel his big hands on her waist, but he simply watched her, nodding his understanding as she told him what she'd heard.

*****

Mal ignored the teeth-chatterin' wind blowing right in his face and accepted payment from Anise.  During the war, Anise had been a decent Sergeant; she and Mal had coordinated a few times and he'd thought her competent and principled.  Wrongheaded judgment if there ever was one, considering now she was the petty queen of Beylix, lording it over her starving subjects on this barren, wintry rock.

Just the kind of situation he usually tried his level best to upset.  Most days, he'd be fomenting revolution.  Today, however, he had more pressing matters weighing on his mind, so he merely accepted payment, nodded curtly, and glanced over at Zoe, who was holding flank.  "Zoe?  We set?"

Zoe kept her gaze on Anise.  "Seems so."

They weren't far from Serenity, and she'd already been fueled up, so they could head straight back to Themis soon as they got back on board.  Mal flashed a half-smile at Anise, "Enjoy the chickens."

A shriek pierced the tense calm among Mal, Zoe, Anise, and Anise's second, a burly guy by the name of Tze.  Mal saw Zoe draw down on Anise before he turned to see -- River, standing there wearing a thin summer dress, feet bare in the snow, her face turned up to the sky.

"Go back to the ship," Mal ordered, feeling a flare of panic.  Last thing he needed was River channeling her inner assassin and turning this bad situation worse.  His boots crunched in the snow as he hurried to her side, grabbing her arm to tug her along.  "Zoe--"

But River shifted her weight, twisting out of his grasp.  "There," the girl said, eyes wide, lifting her arm to point at a nearby ridge.  "They're coming."

Mal chanced a glance at the hills, but didn't immediately spot the cavalry.  He figured a hasty retreat was in order anyway, and tried to usher River toward the mule.

Meanwhile, Zoe held her ground and cocked her gun, still aiming for Anise's head.  "That right?" she asked, sugar sweet.

Anise grinned.  "We could use a transport ship 'round these parts.  Then we wouldn't have to pay petty thieves to run provisions."

Turning quickly, Mal drew his pistol to cover Tze, whose very large shotgun was aimed squarely at River.  Mal's hand was still swollen and he didn't like his chances if it came down to a precision shot.  He shifted, stepping in front of River to shield her with his body.  "I'll give you the name of a great dealer on Greenleaf," he told Anise.  "Tell him Mal sent you and he'll treat you real good."

With a sinister smile, Anise said, "Sorry, Mal.  We'd prefer something a little cheaper."

"Kāi wān xiào."  Mal shook his head, genuinely irritated now.  Do a job, get paid -- what was so gorram hard about that?  "You're not taking my ship."

"Really?"  Anise smirked, not even bothering to draw her weapon, which made Mal a mite nervous.  Anise looked around and gave an exaggerated shrug.  "What, you gonna call the Alliance for help?  Heard they weren't too fond of you and yours."

Mal glowered something fierce, fighting the impulse to take out Tze, let Zoe take Anise, and get this zāi nàn over with.  "Shoulda let Jayne have the gorram chickens," he muttered.

Zoe spoke up then, challenging Anise.  Come to think, Zoe never did take to Anise, Mal recalled, nearly missing Zoe's pointed question.  "How many of your men you willing to sacrifice for this?"

"You're surrounded," Anise answered easily, "so not many."

A twitch of Mal's fingers called the play, and Zoe's boot shifting in the snow said she'd understood.  Mal moved very subtly, readying himself for action, but River skirted around him, lightning quick, going for Anise.

"River, no!" Mal shouted, running after her.  Tze got off a shot, but River danced out of the line of fire, leaving Mal grimacing as hot buckshot tore holes in his arm.  Gritting through the flare of pain, he got a handful of River's dress before she slipped free again.

Zoe dropped back, firing rapidly, and Mal saw Tze go down, gut shot.   Anise pulled a pearl-handled six-shooter, but got winged by Zoe, and there were the others come pouring down the hillside; smell of cordite, bullets pinging the ground all around them.  Zoe backed off, giving cover fire as River reached Anise and started in with her assassin-fighting skills.  One well-placed kick sent Anise slamming into the ground, and Mal hauled the girl away, shouting, "Settle down, it's Mal," in her ear before River ceased.  Winded from a vicious elbow to his ribs, he loosened his grip and winced.  "Good, then."

"Let's go," Zoe hollered, taking out one of Anise's men, who tumbled off a beautiful stallion.  The horse skidded to a stop, whirled around, and ran in the opposite direction from the fusillade.  

Mal calculated their odds, figuring they wouldn't make it back to Serenity on the mule without taking serious fire from the cavalry.  Gorram it.

"Fall back," Zoe ordered, ducking behind the mule.  Mal caught her glance and knew she was having the same thought.  

"You take her," Mal ordered, pushing River toward Zoe.  "I'll cover."

"No," Zoe argued, pausing to get off another shot.  "I got this.  You take her."

"Zoe, gorram it, get her back to Serenity!" he shouted over the rising sound of gunfire, leaning around the tires to provide cover fire.  His sore knuckles protested the abuse, but he ignored them, pausing only to reload.

River leaned back, shielding her eyes from the glare of the wintry sun, and smiled.  "Inara's here."

Mal didn't take his eyes off the haphazard band of troops drawing closer.  He fired and fired, taking down one after another until the shuttle screamed in to cover them.  Inara held it steady a few feet above the ground as Mal boosted River inside, grimacing when he stretched his injured arm.

"Zoe," he shouted over the engine noise.

She let off a couple more shots, then vaulted herself up into the shuttle, turning back and offering a hand up to Mal.

He waved her off without looking.  "I'll take the mule."

"You'll get yourself killed," Zoe shouted back, grabbing a handful of his coat and tugging it hard.  "Forget the mule."

"Can't afford a new one."  Mal pointed out, furious with the situation.  "Go!"

"Can't afford a new captain, either," Zoe answered, tightening her grip on his coat.  "We ain't goin' without you."

"Gorram it," he shouted, aiming another quick shot before reaching up to take her hand.  His left arm screamed something fierce as he pulled himself up and into the shuttle, and he leaned back against the wall, breathing hard through the pain.  "Let's go, then."

Inara didn't bother to glance back, simply asking, "We're all here?"

"Go," Mal ordered, still tetchy as the shuttle darted up and away from the failed ambush.  He simmered, wanting nothing more than someone to take the brunt of his frustrations.  Preferably Simon.  He turned a bit, glaring at Inara's familiar curls.  "What in the gorram hell were you thinking, flying the shuttle into an ambush."

Inara glanced back at him, her expression irritated.  "You're welcome," she answered sarcastically.

Shaking his head, Mal caught Zoe's eye and said, "Know how many credits that mule cost?  Ain't like to afford a replacement."

"True enough," Zoe agreed calmly.  "Probably can reclaim one from a dumpyard somewhere, have Kaylee get it up and running."

Kaylee.  The one thing Mal wanted to think about less than losing the mule was Kaylee's current whereabouts.  Turning his attention back to Inara, Mal pushed himself up and took the seat beside her, wincing every time he moved his arm.  "Let's get the gorram hell off this rock."

Inara glanced over at him, her expression concerned as she scanned his bloody sleeve.  "You're hit?"

"I'm fine," he snapped, ignoring the cloying scent of blood.  Brought back memories he'd as soon leave undisturbed.

Inara's jaw tightened and she kept her gaze on the horizon.  "Serenity's just over that rise."

Mal nodded, letting himself relax, just a little.  Behind him, he heard Zoe ask, "You okay, River?"

When River answered, her voice was soft and tearful.  "Mollymawk's gonna die."

Mal half-turned, frowning at the girl's bowed head.  Zoe looked up at him and raised an eyebrow.  "Shiny," he muttered bitterly.

*****

Angling the light closer, Simon methodically pulled small metal pellets out of Mal's skin.  "You were lucky," he commented, putting a little muscle into it as one particularly stubborn piece of buckshot evaded his forceps.  Not that Mal could feel it at the moment, given the local anesthetic, but the captain would be sore later.  

Simon was ashamed to realize he got a little bit of satisfaction thinking about that.

Not as ashamed as he should be, but that probably could be blamed on his own collection of bruises from their tussle back on Themis.  Or Mal's complete unwillingness to apologize for said tussle, even after Simon had admitted that he may have been taking out his anger on the wrong person.

Simon wrenched another pellet free.  He wasn't trying to hurt Mal, but he wasn't exactly taking care to minimize the pain Mal would feel later.  Some days he missed the simple moral code he'd lived by back on Osiris.  First, do no harm.  Easy in the clinical atmosphere of professional medicine, but out here in the black, running with a jīz of petty criminals and borderline anarchists, his choices were much more difficult.

"Is that right?" Mal asked, jaw clenched, face averted, same as he'd been since they broke atmo.  Being Mal, he'd refused medical attention until his ship safely cleared Beylix.  Under the bright infirmary lights, Simon could see that Mal's black eye had turned the same sickly greenish-yellow as Simon's own.

"A few inches to the left and your lungs would've been compromised," Simon answered, his tone deliberately bland.  "Or the buckshot might've perforated your intestines, or, worst case, penetrated your heart."  Simon tugged the metal free with an audible pop and dropped it into the small basin next to Mal's hip.

Wincing, Mal glanced at his arm.  "Careful.  I might need that particular portion of my anatomy later."

"You're lucky it wasn't your gun arm, either," Simon mused, reaching for the betadine.  Soaking the affected areas until brown liquid dripped down Mal's numbed arm, Simon turned to the cabinets and extracted two rolls of bandages, sterile for the first layer, and pressure bandages to hold them in place.  "You should ice your knuckles every couple of hours," Simon added, ignoring the sharp look this advice earned him.  "Not like we've much else to occupy us until we get back to Themis."

Mal turned, swinging his feet off the table and glaring at Simon.  "Look, you--"

The comm crackled, and Zoe's voice asked, "Captain?  You all patched up?"

The two men stared at each other, hostility lingering, until Mal lifted his eyebrows at Simon, who activated the medbay comm.  "I've removed the shrapnel and sterilized the wounds, but I still need to bandage them," Simon explained in clipped, angry syllables.

"Ah," Zoe answered.

Mal's expression shifted from peevish to apprehensive.  "What is it, Zoe?"

For a moment, the only sound in the infirmary was the crackle of the comm.  "Jayne's waving us."

Simon and Mal collided in the doorway, fast as they were both moving toward the opposite end of the ship.  "Excuse me," Simon apologized by force of habit, even as he clambered up the stairs ahead of his patient, still wincing a bit putting weight on the knee he'd wrenched falling over the chicken coop.

"Excuse me," Mal retorted, elbowing his way past Simon in the passageway, exploding onto the bridge with betadine dripping down the arm dangling by his side.  "Zoe?"

Zoe and Inara turned matching surprised expressions toward the newcomers while River traced patterns on the copilot console.  Simon only had eyes for the display, which showed Jayne looking impatient, and more than a little strange without his facial hair.  If Simon didn't know better, he'd think Jayne looked almost respectable.  Of course, his grungy yellow t-shirt rather ruined the effect.

Clearly Jayne was back on the shuttle.  There was no sign of Kaylee, however, which suggested either Jayne'd been unsuccessful in finding her, or he'd left her in the brothel, a thought that made Simon want to kick something.

"Jayne," Mal greeted, leaning close to the camera, "how is she?"

"Shiny," Jayne answered immediately, and if Simon didn't know better, he'd think Jayne actually sounded a little relieved.  "She's all settled in at Xi He's.  I spent the night."  Jayne paused, a smirk on his face.  "Tell the doc he's a lucky man."

Simon burned, so furious he would've thrown himself at Jayne if the mercenary were actually here.  "Chùsheng xai-jiao de xiang huo--"

"Simon," Mal snapped, at the same moment Zoe leaned toward the camera and admonished, "Jayne."

Inara simply rolled her eyes at all of them and asked Jayne, "Has she been forced to work?"

Jayne shook his head, still looking nonplussed by Zoe's admonition.  "I was her first customer," he answered.  "Paid for the whole night.  'Fore that, she was using her fingers as an excuse."

Simon frowned.  "Her fingers?" he wondered, worrying anew that she hadn't taken the ointment he'd given her to Eunomia.  It was mostly a second-degree burn, and should heal fully if properly treated.

Jayne must've heard Simon's question, because his smile turned cruel.  "Can't grip a man proper if--"

"Jayne," Mal thundered.

Chastened, Jayne sniffed and shifted his weight as Simon glared at the screen with white-hot fury.  "Kaylee's fine," Jayne answered, resentful now.  "Passed along some information, even.  Sussed out the prisoner codes."

Simon glanced at River, who seemed not to be listening at all, murmuring something under her breath as she stared out at the starscape.  His chest felt funny, like someone had tightened a band around his ribcage.  River seemed to be slipping into one of her dissociative episodes, Kaylee was on the verge of selling her body for information, and Simon couldn't do a damn thing to help either one of them.

"The code River gave us was--" Mal paused, glancing at Zoe, who closed her eyes briefly, coaxing the memory forward.

"APP3500658," Zoe said.

River jerked around, staring at Zoe with wide eyes.

Simon stepped closer to his sister, touching her shoulder.  "River--"

"No!" she shrieked, vaulting from her chair and running right off the bridge and down the passageway to the cargo bay.

"River!"  Watching her flee, Simon was torn between the impulse to chase down his sister, and the need to hear every last tidbit about Kaylee.  This kind of choice was exactly what he'd been dreading, and he was ashamed of himself for resenting them both.

Glancing back at Mal, Simon realized the conversation had moved on without him.  With one last regretful look in the direction River had disappeared, Simon moved to Inara's side and listened to Mal and Jayne and Zoe speculate on where in the Eunomian prison a political prisoner would be stashed.

Inara frowned.  "I don't recall any political trials of late."

Mal, Zoe, and Jayne paused, puzzled.  "Pardon?" Mal asked.

Thinking back over the most recent newsflashes, Simon nodded.  "You're right," he told Inara, feeling the pieces starting to fall into place.  "The Alliance likes to publicize political trials -- treason, disloyalty, that sort of thing.  I don't remember a single trial since--" He paused, his gaze shifting to Zoe's stony expression-- "Miranda."

"Exactly," Inara continued, speaking quickly now.  "We can do some research, pull footage of all the trials in the past few years, see if River recognizes anyone."

"And if she doesn't," Mal finished, "we can assume her mollymawk is being held for trial in the jail, not in the regular prison population."

Onscreen, Jayne grimaced.  "Research?"

Mal glared.  "You go back and get Kaylee out of there, then--"

"Tried already," Jayne interrupted.  "She's a little hellcat when she's riled up 'bout something."

"She refused to leave?" Simon asked, leaning closer to the screen.  "Why?"

Jayne rolled his eyes.  "She's tryin' to help your moonbrain sister," he said, his tone of voice suggesting he was talking to someone with very little brain power.

Simon's stomach twisted.  "But--"

"Jayne," Mal spoke right over Simon, "go buy another night for Kaylee, then," he ordered.  "We're at max velocity, and we still won't be there for 'bout 19, 20 hours.  If there's any trouble at all, you pull Kaylee and get her to Themis.  Lock her in the shuttle if it comes to that."

"Shiny," Jayne answered, smirking before he killed the wave, leaving Simon boiling with impotent rage.

Simon poked Mal's good arm and offered up the no-longer-sterile bandages.  "Wrap your wounds," he ordered, turning to go after River.  At least she was close enough for him to try to help.

"Excuse me?" Mal retorted, hands on his hips even though the movement made him grimace.  "Ain't a doctor."

"I need to check on River," Simon answered, nearly spitting the words in his anger.

"You need to do your job," Mal shot back, advancing now.  Zoe watched carefully, but Simon knew from painful experience that she wouldn't intervene on his behalf.

Still, when she caught his gaze, she nodded.  "Go on.  Inara and I will pull the footage."

Half-wanting to disagree just to be disagreeable, Simon hesitated, then nodded once.  "Fine.  Come with me."  Mal raised his eyebrows at his insolence, then swept off the bridge heading for the infirmary.  Simon was two steps behind him when he felt a soft hand above his elbow.

"She's fine," Inara told him softly.

Simon glanced back at her.  "River?" he asked, his tone bitter.  "Or Kaylee?"

*****

Damn arm was killing him.

Mal couldn't sleep, and was too restless to sit up on the bridge all night.  Pacing brought him to the cargo bay, nearly dark, still smelling vaguely of chickens.  Stench didn't do much to help his mood, truth be told.

Whole crew gone utterly fāfēng on him, taking it upon themselves to do all manner of stupid things in the name of River's mollymawk.  Little Kaylee was down on Eunomia pretending to be a whore, with only Jayne on hand to guard her virtue.  Jayne guarding someone's virtue -- weren't a chance in the world for that to end well.

Weren't a good situation any way Mal looked at it, and despite his reservations, seemed like the rest of the crew were gearing up for a jailbreak.  Weren't the best way to stay under the Alliance radar, and Mal weren't ready to jump headlong into the warm embrace of the Alliance if it blew up in their face.  Hell, even assuming they could get this bèn dàn out of Alliance jail without getting caught, the purplebellied liúmáng would figure it out.  

Perfect way for them to retaliate for public embarrassment of Mal making their Miranda follies public.  The Alliance would make an example of them all, political trial to end all political trials.

"There's no connection."

Mal tensed in surprise, but tried to hide it when he turned to face River.  "River," he greeted.  He glanced down -- bare feet.  How she didn't end up hurtin' herself on the metal grates he really didn't know.

"Bed of nails," River said.  "Same principle."

"You suggesting the bed in your quarters ain't comfortable enough for sleep?"

"Walking on grates, lying on nails," she answered, cryptic as ever.  "I was dreaming about your P.O.W. camps.  You're brooding."

Mal was so startled by her mention of the P.O.W. camps that her accusation took a moment to sink in.  "I'm not brooding."

"There's no radar," she said, her face shadowed by long waves of hair.

"'Scuse me?" Mal asked, leaning his elbow against the catwalk railing.

"Mollymawk and Serenity," River elaborated, twisting her hands together at her waist.  "No connection in the eyes of the Alliance, no radar to fly under."

Mal probably didn't mask his surprise as well as he intended to; full sentences and a bit of comprehensible logic mixed in -- she sounded better than she had in days.

River smiled up at him, the dim light of the cargo bay barely illuminating her features.  "Sometimes, it's too crowded in my head, no time for me to find words you understand."  She looked almost sheepish when she added, "Or put them in the proper order."

Very comprehensible.  "You got something to tell me about your mollymawk, little albatross?"

"They won't know it's us," she said, nodding just a bit.  "No reason to connect mollymawk and Serenity."

Mal grimaced.  "You're assuming nothing goes wrong and no one gets caught out."  Never did go to war school like those Alliance commanders, but Mal learned an awful lot about assumptions biting you in the ass during the war.  "They bring Jayne in, there's the connection to Serenity."

They'd lost too much at Miranda for Mal to eagerly embrace any plan that resulted in more losses.  Weren't a pretty world to live in, every man for himself, but why should Mal risk his crew for someone he'd never met?  Doing the right thing might could get them all tossed in the clink, or even killed.

River looked out over the empty cargo bay.  With a muted laugh, she said, "We should try not to get caught, then."  With that, she moved away, heading for the stairs.

"It's not that simple."  Mal followed her down to the landing.  "Most of us have a lot to lose, drawing too much attention from the Alliance.  Your brother would end up back in jail.  God only knows what they'd do with you."

River turned back, meeting his gaze.  "They would kill me unless I killed for them."  She let her startling pronouncement hang in the air for a moment.  "I would kill myself first."

Such thoughts from a girl should be giggling and flirting and living without knowledge of war.  Mal rarely saw this side of her, and it always shook him to the core.  He struggled for something to say.  "River."

She didn't answer, wandering down the stairs, one hand drifting along the railing.  When she reached the floor, she stopped and looked up at Mal.  "They won't know it's us."

'Course, Mal weren't sure he could trust a word of River's, all things considered.  At best, she had an emotional stake in saving someone she felt connected to; at worse... Well, Mal didn't have any particular desire to examine that possibility too closely.

Though he didn't speak a word aloud, River watched him with a look of disappointment.  She gestured toward the starboard side of the ship.  "It was space trash."

With a quick nod, she disappeared through the archway into the guest quarters, leaving Mal alone with his dark thoughts.

*****

Glossary | Part One | Part Two | End Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven
Firefly fic