The Operative sighed as he pulled his ship from orbit around the planet called Hera. *Just one more puzzle piece set into place...* Scratching at an itch that had materialized on the left side of his neck, the man verified the course set into his nav computer and finally allowed himself to relax. He began mentally practicing the final steps of his plan. His next stop would be to finish his dealings with the Resistance. The entire ordeal was a slow and meticulous process. It required incredible amounts of strategy, political flexibility, and strong patience. The Operative possessed all of these qualities, and after almost a year, it seemed that the seeds were nearly all sewn. *Once that is finally accomplished, it shouldn’t take long for those seeds to grow and bloom… into civil war.* *******************************************************************

Bull stopped his horse as the McDavin homestead came into view. Eighteen men on horseback halted around and behind him. “There’s two horses tied up out front,” he commented, peering through a rusty set of binoculars. “Two horses missin’. Mule, too.” He lowered the binoculars. “Somebody’s gotta be home.” He chambered a round in his lever action. “What say we pay someone a little visit, Boys?” All seemed to be in agreement, and the small cavalry descended upon the home like ants attacking a rival anthill. The closer they got to the house, however, the more Bull’s nerves began to go on edge. “Don’t see no activity, Bull,” Chester commented as the group stopped in front of the house. “Mebbe they ain’t home, after all.” “Fei hua,” Tinksy observed. “They got two horses tied up.” “Don’t mean this ain’t a trap,” Bull warned. “Zhu tamin ya min zhu yi. So there’s two horses an’ a mule missin’. They got two o’ their horses left behind. Nah mei guan-shee.” Three shots were fired in succession in the distance behind the group, and all turned to see a figure on horseback a good distance away. “Let’s get after ‘em!” Bull shouted, and the team of horses were redirected southbound. They chased the lone horseman across the plains of the upper Dover Glen, riding their horses hard and fast. The figure was still far out of gun-range. After a bit, Bull gave the motion for everyone to slow their horses down. “They’ll give out eventually!” he yelled. “We’ll catch up.” “Uh...” Art murmured. “Boss? Don’t think there’s gonna be no fight...” Bull glanced over at Art, and past him, Chester and Gregory were both pointing to the sky. A distant hum could be heard, the volume increasing. Bull turned his head back in the direction of the rider, but something else instantly caught his eye. “*HEY,*” a young, female voice boomed over a loudspeaker as the starship loomed closer. “*HOW YA DOIN?*” *******************************************************************

“Careful not to fry Zoe!” Jayne exclaimed from the front of the cockpit as he peered out the windows. “Calm yourself, Jackal,” River returned as she worked the controls. “I know what I’m doing.” She shifted Serenity into hover mode directly above the horsemen, and the engine pods dropped their exhaust ends groundward. She cringed against the nineteen mental screams that cried out as the superheated exhaust incinerated the gunmen and their horses, leaving nothing but ash. “Shined and polished. The problem has been solved with that much ease.” Jayne turned to grin at the pilot. “I’m startin’ to like how ya think, Nyen ching-duh.” *******************************************************************

Sarah’s eyes widened as she stopped painting her nail. “What do yeh *mean,* we lost a truck?” Thomas visibly flinched at the woman’s icy tone. “The rest of the shipment was secure, but the first truck in the caravan swerved to miss a dead cow in the road. It went off the road, flipped...” He swallowed thickly. “The entire load was lost.” Sarah plunked the brush back into its bottle of nail polish. “Yeh do realize that yeh just told me I lost two hundred and fifty thousand credits. Who should I blame fer this?” Thomas paused for a moment after the threat had been delivered. “We... have reason to believe Haskal is at fault.” After a moment of silence, Sarah grabbed her desk lamp and hurled it at the wall. “Wang bao dahn!!!” she shrieked. “So help me, I’ll have William’s head taxed and mounted on my gorram bloody wall!!” She sank back into her chair in despair. “That bastard’s been hounding my trade for two years now. He’s old; I’m young. Feet fall under hands, and he should know better than to step on the toes of the next generation!” Thomas stood and listened to Sarah’s tantrum without comment. He knew better at a time like this. Finally, the flush left Sarah’s face as she heaved a mighty sigh. “If Haskal wants war with Sarah Cornell, then I’ll give him a war.” She waved a hand in dismissal, and Thomas exited the room with haste. Sarah started as she heard Thomas yelp. There was a heavy thud beyond the door, and a familiar voice called, “I seem to have come at a bad time.” Gabriel stalked through the door, Thomas’ limp form being dragged by his skull. “He’s just unconscious,” the man explained. “Didn’t see a reason to kill a non-threatening individual.” Sarah shot to her feet, the wheeled desk chair shooting behind her to hit the wall. “*Gabriel,*” she hissed. Gabriel dropped the man. “Your men are dead,” he informed her. “All of them.” Sarah stood in silence, staring at Gabriel. She had nothing to say. Purposefully, Gabriel strolled forward until he stood directly in front of her desk. He brought his palm down on the center, and the thick, heavy oak split as easily as styrofoam, sending splinters of wood flying into the air. There was no skill or style involved, but the sheer power behind that blow was overwhelming. The halved desk collapsed to the floor. Sarah felt a warmth spreading as she lost control of her bladder. She began quaking violently, and were her knees not locked, she would have collapsed already. “*Are yeh goin’ to kill me now?*” she whispered, her voice shaking as badly as her body. Kicking the remnants of the desk to the sides, Gabriel took a heavy step forward until he was standing mere inches from the woman. He looked down at her from his height. “No.” Now, Sarah collapsed, falling back into her chair in shock. “No?” she repeated. Gabriel knelt before his old acquaintance. “I’m not going to kill you. You see,” he explained, “I’ve learned somethin’ about myself in the past coupla months. I *want* to be a good person. I *want* to do the right thing. Do you know what that means?” The lump in her throat blocking speech for the moment, Sarah silently shook her head. “It means,” Gabriel continued, “that I got no legitimate reason for killin’ ya, even after what you did to me. I could justify it by stating that it would save a bit of innocence from yer claws in the future, but regardless, it’d just be vengeance. Yer men are dead, an’ without the muscle to back you up, Haskal’s gonna tear yer entire operation to pieces. Your life, as you have been leading it, is now over.” Gabriel stood. “You have choices in life, Sarah. You can either go on tryin’ to scrape by as scum, or you can turn yerself around an’ actually *do* somethin’ worthwhile. Don’t’ ever let anyone tell you ya don’t got choices.” Sarah nodded, tears streaming down her face. “*I understand,*” she whispered. “What if I told ya that yer all mixed up inside, don’t know what the hell yer doin’, an’ that, for that, I forgive you? Would you understand?” Sarah stared up at the man in absolute shock. She tried to mouth, ‘*What?*’, but found that, as hard as she was crying, she could not speak. “Turn yer life around, Sarah.” Gabriel turned and started back across the room. “G... *Gabe,*” Sarah managed to croak, and Gabriel halted at her voice. “Can I... Can I know just one thing?” Without turning to face her, Gabriel mentally gauged the crushed woman for a moment before nodding once. Swallowing again, Sarah asked, “Is yer brother still alive?” Gabriel stood in silence for so long that Sarah almost decided that he wasn’t going to answer. “Yes,” he told her at last. “He’s alive.” He then left the room. *******************************************************************

“D’ya think they suffered?” Kaylee wondered from the foot of the ramp, a disturbed look on her face as she studied the charred terrain before them. “They would have died instantly,” Simon assured the mechanic, wrapping his arms around her waist from behind. “There wouldn’t have been any pain.” Zoe and Jayne had taken the three horses back into town. Only Gabriel was overdue with his horse, and although he’d been in town for a bit now, it seemed that Zoe and Jayne might actually beat him back. “They scream, anyway,” River explained, staring blankly at nothing. “There isn’t even enough time for them to know they’re dying, but their minds scream, anyway.” She cocked her head curiously. “I don’t know why that is.” Inara appeared behind them at the head of the ramp. She took a look around, frowned, and turned to return to the infirmary. The speech went silent for a moment, and even for those without psychic abilities, everyone knew that everyone else was thinking the same thing. “I wish I could do something for her,” Simon admitted. “I’ve never seen her anything like this.” “Me neither, an’ I’ve known her a lot longer than you,” Kaylee returned. “So unless ya can magically fix the captain…” As soon as she said it, Kaylee realized that something insensitive had escaped her lips. *Typical of Simon, but I know I never meant…* “I’m sorry, Baby. I know that yer tryin’-” “I know,” Simon interrupted. “That’s okay. Mal should be up and running before you can…” “It’s all going bad from here,” River interjected in her brother’s pause. “We’ll have a break from outside for awhile, but inside…” She straightened her skull on her short length of neck vertebrae. “…it’ll be a hell of an ordeal.” Frowning, then shaking his head, Simon regarded Kaylee in earnest. “Lately, I can’t figure out if she’s still babbling, or if she’s actually *predicting* the *future…* *******************************************************************

“We got ‘em, then?” Gabriel asked, although his tone suggested more of a statement than a question. He threw his leg over the horse’s back and landed heavily in the dirt. “Apparently,” Zoe answered, helping the younger man with the horse. “This is the last horse to return before we take off. You take care of Cornell?” Gabriel nodded. “I didn’t kill her.” Zoe frowned. “Huh,” she coughed. “Why the hell *not?*” Jayne inquired, having overheard as he descended the cargo ramp. Gabriel shook his head. “No reason to. She’s just a misguided woman suffering from narcissism, greed, and a neurotic notion of vengeance. She was no threat. I don’t kill for no reason.” “Makes sense to me,” Zoe agreed, more for Jayne’s benefit than for Gabriel. “Still,” Gabriel continued, “I’d love to jus’ wash off some. This blood’s already dried all ruttin’ over me.” At those words, Zoe and Jayne both froze. “Gabriel,” Zoe started, “I don’t see any blood.” Gabriel stared at his leader as if she’d lost her mind. “Mebbe ya should *look* fer a change. I got blood all over my gorram body!” “Hwoon dahn,” Jayne muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. “Gabriel,” Zoe soothed, “you don’t have any blood on you at all.” Gabriel’s head shot downward as he frantically scanned his body. His head came back up to stare at Zoe, entirely confused. “Forget it,” he uttered. “It’s in the past.” He moved past Zoe and entered Serenity. “Fong luh,” Jayne commented as he sidled up beside Zoe. “More’n more, I’m startin’ tuh worry ‘bout the kid more’n the gorram girl.” “Maybe it’s just the stress,” Zoe suggested. “Lord knows, I’ve said some weird stuff in extreme situations.” She clambered upon the horse. “Follow me in the mule, and then, let’s get off this rock.”