“The Takira House is a whorehouse!” Jayne exclaimed, an excited grin on his face. Mal pulled the mule around to the back of the building and brought it to a stop. “We got a crate with ninety eight laser guns. I think we’re gonna be in an’ out as fast as we can, Jayne.” He glanced over his shoulder at the crate. “Feel like I’m arrested already, just bein’ this close to ‘em.” The others, with the exception of Inara, were all back at the ship. Seeing as Zoe was out of the picture, Mal had really wanted to take either Gabriel or River along, but Gabriel was almost too injured to walk, and Mal hadn’t quite felt comfortable yet bringing River on jobs again. That left Kaylee. “Hope Simon’s ready for a hospital trip by the time we get back,” Kaylee voiced. “So do I,” Mal agreed, hopping down from the mule. He glanced around the neighborhood, which was a seedier area of the small town. *Brimstone, Beaumont*. Although the planet had its cities, Brimstone was very old-fashioned. In fact, since entering the town, Mal hadn’t seen a single automobile, but there were horses tied periodically up and down the streets. “Good place for an op like this,” Jayne commented. “Less suspicion... Prob’ly backwater sheriff runnin’ the law, too.” As soon as the trio neared the back door, it swung open. A bald, black man of about Mal’s height and build answered the door. His long, brown coat was unmistakably familiar. “You Reynolds?” Mal observed the man. “Depends on who’s askin’.” “Baile.” The man ushered them inside to a back storage room, motioning for several other people to retrieve the crate. “Manfred Baile. I’m gonna tell ya up front, we’re the Resistance.” “I don’t care who you are,” Mal admitted. “You got the coin; we got the ninety eight top-of-the-line Alliance laser pistols.” Baile eyed Mal conspicuously. “You were a Browncoat,” he stated. “I was,” Mal confirmed. “Now, I’m a businessman.” Baile nodded. “Understood.” He waited for his four counterparts to set the crate on the ground before stepping forward and prying it open. The woman to Baile’s left whistled when she saw the shiny, silver weapons. “They weren’t kiddin’, were they?” she spoke. She tossed a bagful of platinum to Mal. Mal opened the bag for inspection and Jayne whistled, as well. “Now *that* is one hell of a payoff.” “THIS IS THE POLICE,” a loudspeaker boomed from somewhere outside. “COME OUT WITH YOUR HANDS ON YOUR HEADS. FAILURE TO DO SO WILL RESULT IN YOUR TERMINATION. I REPEAT...” In an instant, Baile and Reynolds had their pistols drawn and aimed at each others’ heads. “This wasn’t me,” Mal growled menacingly. “We’re the gorram Resistance,” Baile countered. “Ya think it was *us?*” After a tense moment, Mal lowered his weapon. Baile did the same. “Someone ratted us out.” Baile withdrew a transmitter from his coat. “Baile. We need backup *now*. We been ratted out.” He glanced up at Mal. “We don’t use the lasers unless we absolutely *must*. I don’t want the Alliance to know we have ‘em yet.” “YOU’RE SURROUNDED. COME OUT WITH YOUR HANDS ON YOUR HEADS. FAILURE TO DO SO...” *************************************************************************

“We’ve got to be ready to move her as soon as the captain can get us to a hospital,” Simon instructed, moving around Zoe to check the IV that was stuck in her arm. “Hope there ain’t any questions asked when we get there,” Gabriel voiced. He was seated on the stool against the wall, and River lay stretched across the ledge-cot behind him. Simon couldn’t help but notice her toying with Gabriel’s longish, brown hair. Trying to ignore how friendly his sister had gotten with Gabriel, Simon moved to the wall screen that was monitoring Zoe’s vitals. “Shouldn’t be too much of a problem. We’ll be in a city, but we’re still on the Rim. Of course, River will have to stay out of sight, but I’m going to have to risk exposing myself. I know too much about her condition to let Mal and Jayne take her in without me-” River suddenly gasped, sitting straight up. Simon straightened, and Gabriel tensed on his stool. “What is it?” Simon inquired. “There’s someone...” River trailed off as she began to tremble. She grasped Gabriel’s shoulders tightly, digging her nails into his skin. “*He’s here!*” she hissed in a whisper. “*He’s on the ship!*” “He’s here!” a deeper, rough voice whined in mocking. “He’s on the ship!” A huge man with camouflage BDU pants and sleeveless top stepped into the doorway. His blond hair was cropped closely to his head, and his face was crisscrossed with knife scars. The man chuckled. “Psychic babble.” Even in his injured condition, Simon had never seen Gabriel come to his feet so quickly. Gabriel’s glower was quickly becoming less and less human in nature. The big man turned toward Gabriel and grinned. “Hello, Gabe,” he grumbled with a Scottish accent. “Fantastic to see yeh again.” “Hey, Dante,” Gabriel returned. “Wish I could say the same...” Dante snorted. “Yeh’ve been hangin’ out with these Yanks fer too long. Yer even talkin’ like ‘em now.” “I’m talkin’ like ‘em,” Gabriel explained, his accent immediately becoming as sharply Scottish as Dante’s, “so folk would be less likely to associate me with *you*.” “Ah...” Dante shrugged. “It’s no matter.” A frown replaced the sliced smile. “What have we here?” he spoke thoughtfully, glancing around the room at nothing. “I sense... somethin’ different ‘boutcha, Gabe.” His gaze immediately fell upon River. “That’s it!” he declared. “Yeh’ve found yerself a little bird!” He grinned again. “How sweet.” “Let’s just get this over with,” Gabriel returned. “If you insist...” Dante trailed off, suddenly looking very disappointed. “Ah, bloody hell!” he exclaimed, sounding quite upset as he studied Gabriel from head to foot. “Yer injured! How am I expected to fight yeh when yer injured?!??” “I’ll fight you,” River spoke, sliding down from her cot. “No,” Gabriel growled, pushing her back with the back of his hand against her chest. “Yer not.” Dante laughed. “Quite the spirited lass,” he commented. His face ticked twice, and there was a slight shudder in his frame, and it was then that Simon fully realized how incredibly psychologically unstable this individual really was. “Huh choo-shang tza-jiao duh tzang-huo!!” River spat. Dante looked back to Gabriel. “Sounds like she’s got a shorter roundout than most,” he commented. “Grips don’t hug the sky, Mate,” Gabriel shot right back. “I’m surprised you can function enough to engage in conversation.” Simon had no idea what in the ‘Verse they were talking about, but he assumed it was more of that strange Hera slang. “It was too easy to track you folk,” Dante boasted. “All I had to do was trace the signal from Monte Reigns to Serenity. Almost shamefully easy.” Reaching into a cargo pocket, he withdrew a vial of clear fluid. He tossed it to Simon. “It was Niska,” he spoke. Simon frowned. “What?” “Are ya daft, Lad?!” Dante exclaimed. “Niska was the one who poisoned yer little friend here.” “How?” Gabriel queried. “She never went *near* Niska when I wasn’t around, an’ he never got the opportunity.” “I worked fer Adelai Niska a couple times,” Dante continued. He chuckled. “Rutter fired me ‘cuz I was better at torture than he was.” He sucked in a deep breath and blew it out. “Torture weren’t Niska’s only hobby. He could’ve poisoned the bird by any of a thousand ways. Microscopic darts, though unlikely. Gases, even *food*, if he managed an infiltration of yer ship. Hell, if she got shot during yer little tousle, it could’ve been in the bullet. All I know is, he’s the one who did it, an’ *that*,” he explained, pointing to the vial that Simon now held, “is the antidote. So go ahead and save yer *precious* little first mate.” “How do you know all that?” Gabriel demanded. Dante grinned evilly. “The Operative,” he replied matter-of-factly. “I wager he’s got his hands in a lot of pots these days.” Gabriel was trembling from head to foot with adrenaline. River placed a hand on his shoulder in an attempt to calm him, but he shook it off. “When we hit it, it ain’t gonna be like last time.” Dante barked a throaty belly-laugh. “Sure as hell ain’t. Before, we was fightin’ with strength an’ skill. Now...” He chuckled. “Now, we’re gods.” “We are *not* God,” Gabriel growled. Dante laughed again. “Yer *still* holdin’ onto those old fairy tales? Tsk tsk. Gabe, I thought you’d’ve learnt by now.” He took a step back toward the door. “I’m gonna pretend, fer Foster’s sake, that I never found ya here. Ye get a week’s head start ‘fore I start trackin’ ya again. But...” He shook a finger at Gabriel. “Ye better not be hurt next time I find ya.” “I’ll see what I can do about that,” Gabriel returned. Dante stepped out of the room. “Oh, and yeh might wanna turn on the news,” he called. Instantly switching back to Simon and River’s accent, Gabriel turned to Simon. “No questions,” he stated. “I just really don’t wanna talk about it.” Simon regarded him for a moment. “Fair enough,” he replied. “I’m going to analyze this serum before I put it into Zoe. I just don’t trust that freak.” “A wise decision,” Gabriel decided, falling back onto the stool. River slid her arms around Gabriel’s neck. “I’m sorry,” she told him. Gabriel shrugged. “Had to run into him again sometime.” He straightened. “What was that he said about turning on the news?” *************************************************************************

“In headline news today,” the broadcast announcer began, “a standoff continues in the town of Brimstone between local police and a gang of pirates in correlation with a Resistance faction. It has been verified that the leader of the gang is one Malcolm Reynolds. Reynolds fought for the Independents during the war, and was awarded medals for his heroism. “The incident, which has been occurring for the past half hour, is taking place at the Takira House bordello in Brimstone. Federal agents have been called to the scene, and are currently negotiating the surrender of the Resistance faction and the Reynolds Gang. We’ll keep you posted as events unfold.” Inara dropped the teapot she was preparing. It hit the floor of her shuttle with a *clang*, bouncing and spilling water all over. She rushed to the Comm, where the news had been on as background noise while she prepared for her client’s arrival. “Mal!” *************************************************************************

“This ain't good,” Jayne observed, peering around the corner of the window. "This ain't good at all." As Mal attempted to peer around his own corner, two bullets zipped by his head. "Jayne, I do believe you are the master of overstatement." “Niao se dub doo gway!!” Baile shouted, firing several rounds at the Feds outside. “HASN’T THIS GONE ON LONG ENOUGH?” the loudspeaker boomed. “LET’S JUST PUT DOWN OUR WEAPONS AND DISCUSS THE SITUATION IN A CIVIL AND LOGICAL MANNER.” “I got a counter-proposition!” Mal called. He stopped, apparently aware that he hadn’t thought through his taunt. “Uh... No!” He was answered by another handful of bullets. “Hey, Mal,” Jayne spoke, “know what’s kinda funny?” “No, Jayne,” Mal replied. “What’s kinda funny?” Jayne closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the wall, sighing heavily. “We’re in a standoff against the Feds, we’re prob’ly gonna die today, an’ the only thing I can think of is that I ain’t never gonna get to visit my daughter.” Mal stared at him until Jayne finally opened his eyes and looked back. “Know what that means, don’t ya?” Mal prompted. “It means we gotta do everything we possibly can to ensure you get to yer daughter someday.” Jayne held the captain’s gaze for a moment before holding out his hand. Mal clasped his hand and squeezed. “If we die today,” Jayne returned, “ we’re gonna do it fightin’ with our last breath.” Mal nodded. “Baile!” he called. “Think it’s about time to break out those fancy toys yet?” “No!” Baile insisted. “My backup will be here any minute!” “An’ how long ago do ya think the Feds called their special arms unit?” Mal inquired. “When they get here, we’re humped.” “Let’s just break out the gorram lasers an’ cut their vehicles in half!” Jayne insisted irritably. “No!” Baile shouted. “Just give my men a few more minutes, that’s all.” ************************************************************************

“Was he there?” was Emily’s first question as Dante entered the ship. “Aye,” Dante grunted, distressed. “He was there.” Emily gritted her teeth. “Why the *hell* didn’t you come and get me, then?!” she fumed. “You said I could have him!” Dante frowned at her for a moment before realizing what she was talking about. “No, no! Not Reynolds! Gabriel was there. Reynolds is a bit... tied up right now.”” “Oh,” Emily responded. “Well, where’s Gabriel now?” Dante brushed past her. “Don’t wanna talk about it, Love.” “Why?” Emily taunted, pursing her lips in a smirk. “Did he beat you?” Dante whirled around. He grabbed the slender girl by her throat, lifted her into the air, and pushed her against the wall. “*I said*,” he hissed, “*I don’t wanna talk about it. Dong ma?*” He spoke the last two words with over-exaggerated annunciation and a flick of his tongue against his lower teeth. Her face turning red, Emily nodded vigorously, and Dante released her. She choked for air, rubbing her throat. Dante moved into the cockpit, where he sat. He flicked the switch to the Comm, tuning it to the news channel. He leaned back in the seat, propped his feet on the console, and watched the show.