“Okay,” Mal announced after everyone was up and running that morning, “so this is what we need. I’m takin’ Jayne, River, an’ the doc to town with me today. Simon wanted to check out what kinda med facilities Hatchet has. I wanted to take River to help us find our way around, since lettin’ Gab be seen an’ recognized this early on could be a trouble, an’ the two of them seem to have developed a...” He paused for a moment. “...communication.” He eyed Gabriel. “Think ya can hang on without ‘Hon’ for half a day?” Gabriel pretended to ponder the question. “Perhaps. I suppose I could get a hobby or somethin’.” “Can’t wait for a good, hot meal,” Kaylee professed. “Right,” Mal agreed. “We’re pickin’ up supplies. Grub, fuel for the mule, prob’ly some horses. We got a well, so water ain’t an issue.” He shifted in his chair. “We’re also gonna try an’ get the electricity turned on. Light an’ climate control’s always a nicety, ‘specially out here. Anyone see an issue I’m missin’?” “I might try an’ find some air mattresses while we’re in town,” Jayne foretold. “Hardwood floor ain’t ‘zacly the comfiest.” “Are we worried about folk seein’ our warrants an’ recognizing any of you?” Zoe wondered. “I wouldn’t place too much worry on it,” Gabriel suggested. “Believe it or not, folk ‘round these parts got a strong dislike toward the Alliance. There was actually riots for over six months after the war was over. Alliance had to put a blockade on the planet an’ occupy it for about a year ‘fore the populace got under control.” He laced his fingers on the tabletop. “Even if’n ya was recognized, which ain’t likely, I doubt anyone would say a gorram thing.” “Still,” Mal countered, “I don’t want ya goin’ into town ‘til we got the place scouted a mite better. An’ we’re takin’ guns with us, but they’re stayin’ in the mule, ‘less I conjure elsewise.” “I think that should cover it for today, Sir,” Zoe deduced. “Right.” Mal stood. “Let’s get ready for the trip.” *************************************************************************

“Thank you for seeing me,” Helen began, taking the proffered seat. William Haskal leaned back in his chair. “No problem at all. I can always go out of my way to see a pretty face.” He leaned forward over his desk, his fingers interlaced. “Let me wager a guess and say this is about Gabriel Davin.” Helen was taken aback. “Actually, it is.” Haskal nodded knowingly. “It wasn’t hard to judge, really. Man by the name of Dante came in here just the other week, askin’ ‘bout my guy. Heard of ‘im?” Helen heaved a sigh. “I know Dante. He’s a raving lunatic who’s unfit for interaction with human beings.” “The opinion is quite accepted and mutual,” Haskal agreed. “He killed two of my guards on his way in to speak with me. Looked at him funny, or somesuch excuse, is what he said.” He reached into a cigar box, selected a smoke, then closed the box. “Gabriel was somethin’ else,” he reminisced, lighting the cigar with a match. “He was my best assassin, although he wasn’t with me long enough for me to give him any high-profile targets. He was professional and loyal to the core, though.” He found the ash tray with the match and puffed on the stogie. “I tell him to kill someone and his family, an’ next day, they were all dead. Children an’ all.” “That’s lovely,” Helen remarked. “To get right to the point,” Haskal continued, “I don’t know where Gabriel is. He disappeared over two years ago, and had quit workin’ for me for quite some time before that. He has *not* contacted me in any way, whatsoever, but if he does, I will be sure to let you know, provided you leave me your contact number.” Helen blinked. “Wow. I didn’t expect you to be so cooperative this quickly.” Haskal shrugged, pulling the cigar from his lips and smelling the thick smoke emanating from the smoldering end. “Don’t mistake if for generosity. I just don’t want to die today.” *************************************************************************

“Should be a couple ladders in the shed,” Gabriel remembered. “I’m surprised there’re only three leaks in the roof.” “Gab, I ain’t so sure you should be goin’ up there just yet,” Zoe judged. “Sure you’re up to it?” Gabriel raised an eyebrow at the first mate. “If you really wanna get all technical, Inara’s the only one of us four who ain’t healin’. ‘Sides,” he continued, “I didn’t carry the nickname, ‘Ladder’ fer a month fer nothin’.” “Why did you carry the nickname, ‘Ladder’ fer a month?” Kaylee inquired. “‘Cuz I had a problem with fallin’ off ladders,” Gabriel professed with a wink and a grin. A series of gunshots from outside sprang the trio into action. “Catch!” Zoe called, grabbing a lever-action rifle that was leaning against the wall and tossing it to Gabriel. “Kaylee, there’s a pistol on the counter!” Gabriel peered out the kitchen window. “Four men,” he reported. “Horseback.” Two more shots were fired into the air. “Come on out!” a man’s voice ordered. “‘Less yeh want yerselves vented through the walls.” Gabriel glanced toward Zoe, who gave him a curt nod. Slowly, weapons trained on the arrivals, the trio inched onto the porch. “Davin!” the lead man exclaimed with a Scottish accent, rifle trained on the warrior. “Come on down, so’s I can get a look atcha.” Keeping his weapon aimed and steady, Gabriel stepped down the stairs until his feet found dirt. “Mitchell Cornell.” The man, Cornell, Zoe presumed, delivered a nasty grin that exposed at least three missing teeth in his rugged, unshaven countenance. “Couple of my boys was ridin’ past last night; saw lights in the winders. So I says to myself, I says, ‘I wonder if Gabe Davin’s come home to nest.’” He laughed. “So’s I ‘cided ta ride all the gorram way out here to see fer meself. Looks as if they warn’t lyin’.” “What do you want?” Gabriel inquired menacingly, maintaining his usual accent in the face of Earth-That-Was past Scotsmen. Cornell continued grinning, but looked as if he wasn’t quite ready to answer. As Inara moved onto the porch, her bow trained on one of the horsemen, Cornell’s gaze began drifting across the grounded party. “So this is yer bunch, you say? Three *birds.*” Zoe strafed to the side, moving down the steps and around Gabriel. “This is one *bird* who can plant a 7.62 round square between your ugly little eyes and go back inside for a nice lunch, so don’t *hump* with me, Lowlife.” The four men laughed. “Spunky one, eh?” Cornell elicited. He looked back to Gabriel. “I hope this ain’t yer *whole* gang, the buncha *girls.* Hell, the two *whiter* of the threesome looks like they can’t shoot better’n they can bloody *spit.*” “Wouldn’t you like to know?” Gabriel replied, offering the man nothing in the way of information. “Previous question, repeated: What do you want?” Cornell snorted. “So yeh learned some big words offworld, have yeh?” “They ain’t big words, Mitch. Y’all are just *that* dumb.” The men started, obviously insulted. “Now *them* are some big words, Boy,” Cornell sneered. “Jus’ remember, yer big brother ain’t here ta protect yeh.” “My brother’s dead,” Gabriel returned, “but trust me; he ain’t needed here today.” “There’s a gun aimed at each of you,” Zoe added. “There’s a gun aimed at each of us. Lot of people could die if you do somethin’ stupid.” Ignoring the woman, Cornell peered at Gabriel. “Dead, eh? Ain’t what I heard.” “Then you heard wrong,” Gabriel corrected. “My brother’s been dead for years.” “I must be mistaken, then,” Cornell replied. “Guess yeh’ve experienced the *pain* of losin’ a brother then, don’t it seem?” “Li’l Willy may’ve been the best assassin in these parts,” Gabriel told, “but, apparently, the stories were false, an’ when a man comes at me with a blade, I tend to react accordin’ly. Thus, yer brother died by the knife, an’ it was *his* fault.” “Boards bend with the weather,” Cornell retorted with the strange Hera slang. “Oh, an’ that reminds me of somethin’.” Zoe made a very bored, but loud humming noise in the back of her throat. *These guys are gunslingin’ amateurs... They’re still dangerous, though...* “Lerek Tuvial’s dead,” Cornell announced. Gabriel had no reaction. “Yep,” Cornell continued. “Got his face fried off an’ his brains boiled over his own ‘Lectrocutors burner. Quite the nasty mess.” *Dante,* Zoe thought. *Had to be...* “Heard it from one of Haskal’s men,” Cornell continued. “Seems he got a li’l visit from Dante, who’s lookin’ fer *you.*” “I know as much,” Gabriel assured. “About the Dante lookin’ for me, not the Haskal visit.” “Haskal’s lookin’ fer ya, too, from what the bloke said,” Cornell added. “We ain’t interested in yer small-talk,” Gabriel iterated. “An’ we sure as a seaborne sailor ain’t intimidated by yer li’l mouse posse, so why don’t’cha cut the innards outta the bass and tell us what the *hell* ya want?” Cornell reared his horse menacingly, and all parties tensed on their firearms. “Yeh showed up too late, Gabe. I ain’t here fer revenge, much as I’d like ta be. This here’s *our* lands, now. We claimed ‘em, an’ we’s prepared ta defends ‘em.” Gabriel glanced around openly. “Doesn’t look like yeh’ve done much with the place, does it?” “Happens when a no-good, drug-addicted piece o’ crap disappears, leavin’ five hundred acres of good soil sittin’, waitin’ fer someones ta claims ‘em, like yeaou,” Cornell educated. “Sorry, but yeh gambled with *time,* an’ yeh *lost,* Mate.” “I’m here, ain’t I?” Gabriel returned, his accent straining not to revert to the Scottish of his adversaries and of his youth. “An’ there’s a well-oiled and unfailing firearm aimed right at yer purty li’l head. Now, I ain’t hundred percent as to how quick I am, but I bet sure as a gelded stallion, my bullet hits yer face ‘fore my body hits the dust. Is five hundred acres worth yer tiny brain keepin’ its well-positioned place in yer thick skull?” Cornell reared his horse again. Then, he lowered his rifle. “I don’t see a ship nowhere near the farm,” he informed, “so I’ll be generous. Yeh got three days ta get all yer fey-oo hauled off an’ gone ‘fore I come back here, an’ trust me, it ain’t gonna be just us four.” “We ain’t leavin’,” Zoe taunted. “Don’t waste yer time or our bullets.” Cornell sneered at them again. “Three days,” he repeated before turning his horse. The foursome rode off into the distance with a cloud of black dust. *************************************************************************

“Hatchet,” Mal announced. “Town’s got decent accommodations, considerin’ its size.” “I’m not seeing a hospital anywhere,” Simon mentioned. “Hopefully, they have some sort of clinic...” “So Gabriel growed up thinkin’ *this* was a town?” Jayne wondered. “Poor kid.” “Ain’t much smaller than the town I grew up near,” Mal countered. “So that explains why yer *both* weird.” Ignoring Jayne, Mal found a place to park the mule and shut it down. The four disembarked, standing next to the vehicle for a moment to take in the place. The main street was paved in cobblestone, but all of the side streets and alleys were still dirt. The town looked like it hadn’t changed much since it was built, and it probably never would change much. The few motorized vehicles to be seen were all utility vehicles, such as the mule. Farmers and ranchers were stacking their beds with seed, feed, and other supplies. All other modes of transportation looked to be horses. “‘Least we won’t look *too* out of place with this thing,” Mal pointed out, tapping the mule with the fingertips of his right hand. “Well, Doc?” After a moments’ pause, Simon turned and frowned curiously at the captain. “Well... what?” “Me ‘n’ Jayne are fixin’ to gather up supplies an’ whatnot. Yer sister’s goin’ with us; help us find our way around. You need to make a command decision on what your purpose is on this trip.” “From what we’ve heard,” Jayne added with an evil grin, “yeh’ve been gettin’ better at those, lately.” “He’s the makeshift first mate!” River piped in excitedly. Simon closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Yeah, Gabriel’s been acting... strangely toward me. When he was in command of the ship for that short time, he practically forced responsibility into my face at every opportunity.” “Maybe he sees somethin’ in ya that you don’t,” Mal suggested. “Nah,” Jayne interjected. “He’s jus’ tryin’ ta score points with ya, ‘cuz he’s tusslin’ with yer sister.” Simon’s eyes got wide and his jaw dropped in mock surprise. “I *never* knew *that* was coming!” he exclaimed sarcastically, bringing his hands up and into a choking motion. “*How* could I *ever* have underestimated you?” “Sorry, Doc,” Jayne apologized, clapping a hand on the man’s shoulder, “but I can’t answer that question. *So,*” he continued abruptly, “enough talkin’ ‘bout Gabriel, an’ let’s start talkin’ ‘bout me. How’s the womenfolk lookin’ around this town?” He scanned the street. “Ah. Li’l bit plump an’ corn-fed.” He grinned. “Jus’ the way I like ‘em.” “Back to civilization,” Mal continued, ignoring Jayne’s musings, “civil as it can be, we’re lookin’ at whoever runs the electricity first. After that’s foodstuffs and fresh food, an’ we fuel the mule. I’d wager... four horses? Oughtta do us right.” “I’ll ask around,” Simon decided, “and see if I can get pointed in the direction of *some* kind of medical facility. That way, when I rip Jayne’s *leg* off, we’ll have something better than a first-aid station to stick it back on.” River giggled, and Mal actually chuckled a bit. “Sounds good, Doc,” he allowed. “Oh, an’ by the by... do you know how to ride a horse?” Simon blinked at him. “Umm... I don’t *think-*” “Okay,” Mal interrupted, “that means no. Stupid question in the first place... I trust yer sister’s drivin’ better (no offense, Doctor, but she *is* a genius), so she’ll drive the mule back, an’ you can ride shotgun. Jayne ‘n’ me will bring the horses back.” “This sounds acceptable,” Simon admitted. “Good,” Mal agreed. “Glad ya like it.” He paused, frowning for a moment. “Something’s wrong.” Simon glanced around nervously. “What?” “Jayne’s not *talking.*” A quick search of the area discovered that, indeed, Jayne was nowhere to be seen. “I *thought* it odd that he’d pass up a comeback for the leg thing,” Mal admitted. “He probably got lured away by a banana on a stick,” Simon guessed. “No,” River corrected, apparently missing the fact that Simon was joking. “Not a banana.” She had the far-away look again, which meant that she was watching Jayne with her brain. She began walking, and, of course, Mal and Simon felt obligated to follow her. They entered an alley with no one in it, and River stopped halfway down. After a long moment of silence, Mal wondered, “Um... So where’s this banana?” “It wasn’t a banana,” Simon reminded, “it was a non-banana.” “Ahh, right,” Mal conceded. “Yeah, no banana.” “So...” Mal started again, “...where’s this non-banana?” “Could you two *please* stop saying ‘banana’?” River pleaded. A door in the alley swung open violently, and a human shape, clothed from neck to toes in black, fell to the dirt. “Mite purtier ’n a banana,” Jayne explained, stepping into the alley and kicking the door shut behind him. He grabbed his captive by the collar and dragged him or her over to his companions. “Sure as hell a lot more dangerous, though. Recognize *her?*” He turned the now-dirty face up by the chin so that the others could get a good look. Several locks of blond hair fell across the unconscious feminine features. Mal stared at the woman as recognition dawned on him. “That’s Hayze!” he exclaimed. “As in, *Ritter’s* Hayze.” “Yep,” Jayne confirmed. Simon appeared to be surprised, as well. “*What* are you *doing* with *her?*”