Mal sat in the back of shuttle two, handcuffs loosely around his wrists and ankles, trying not to show how nervous he was about this plan. Simon, in the pilots seat, where he had become relatively competent since his sister had become a pilot, was the very air of confidence. The doc had come a long way since he had first stepped aboard Serenity, but the cold, aloof way that he had held himself when Mal had first laid eyes upon him was very much in place now. Jayne lounged in the other chair, a pistol on each side of his belt and a wide-barrelled shotgun in his hand. And that was only his visible weapons. If Mal knew Jayne, the man had at least a couple of knives and a another gun or two hidden on him somewhere. Simon only carried two weapons, a pistol all silver and engraved; a present from Inara and a Stunner, a weapon that was attached to his wrist and could shock a man into unconsciousness with a touch. Today, Simon would be playing the part of a cold and merciless Bounty Hunter and Jayne his dumb muscle. Mal knew that with Simon’s lack of facial expressions and Jayne’s staggering ability as dumb muscle, the two of them would make a convincing pair. There was a risk that the owners of the Erebos slam would want to arrest Jayne or Simon, if either of them were recognised, but it was slim. It was not good business to betray the Bounty Hunters, soon they stopped coming and you were out of business. Besides, there was enough flags on Mal’s file to pick up a decent enough bounty. Simon had been well drilled on what was to be expected of him and he was a quick study. Simon had the look of a hunter in his eyes; the same determination to keep River safe was frighteningly similar to the look that a man who hunted people down for money soon acquired. And he’d taken the news about Kaylee’s brother, Jeremiah, almost as badly as Kaylee had. And that sure hadn’t been well, the girl hadn’t been able to stop crying. Mal guessed, rightly so, that Simon knew exactly how she felt. A beloved sibling once thought safe suddenly found to be in who knows what danger? Yes, Simon had been through that, and wished it upon no one. They zipped across the surface of Erebos, Serenity tucked safely away in a cool valley far enough away that the Slam’s sensors weren’t going to pick it up. Erebos was a hell of a world, almost literally. It had an enormous amount of volcanic activity, the Slam having been built on one of the most stable areas. This didn’t mean that it wasn’t hot and dry round the clock. Even as they flew, Mal could see lava bursts and clouds of ash clogging the sky, already grey from it. The prison itself had air producers, making the place livable but far from pleasant. It was a hell of a place to escape from. But if his plan went all right. It was times like this, he wished that Shepard Book was here. The old man would have been there to give him advice, he’d know about Bounty Slams, like he knew about so much else. If there was a plan that needed making it would be the Shepard who made them see the clearest, saw the problems before the rest of them, before they became to big to handle. More than anything Mal missed Book for his calming influence on the crew, his warm smile and rich laughter the tonic that turned stress away. Whenever he felt an inch or two of sympathy for those Alliance boys who had died around Mr. Universe’s moon, he remembered Shepard Book coughing his last in his arms. A good man, far to good a man for such a nasty end. The Slam itself came into sight, looking every inch the fortress of the devil, black volcanic rock hewed from the surface of the planet and fused together in a jagged cube. Mal studied the exterior, knowing this was the best chance he would have to do so. There was a thick wall, he saw first, with covered battlements, a guard tower at each corner. Then there was a second section, which probably housed the guards, a set of another two towers and a fifth one, with a landing platform which was mostly the Warden’s residence. They made the final approach, Simon speaking to the control tower. Jayne came into the back of the shuttle and began tightening the handcuffs. “Showtime, huh, Mal?” “Yeah, showtime.” “Good luck!” “Thanks Jayne. I think I’m gonna need it.”

******************************************* Simon led them from the shuttle, hands clasped behind his back, sunglasses covering his eyes, his face impassive and cold, as smooth as his pressed grey tunic. Jayne hauled Mal from the shuttle more roughly than was strictly necessary all the while grinning evilly around a cigar, a heavy pistol in Mal’s back. A grimy looking man, big and scarred, a military cap jauntily askew greeted them at the bottom of the ramp, a couple of Guards standing behind him repeaters in hand, shock hammers at their belts. “Velcome to Erebo’ Slam, frien’” said the man, his accent almost unintelligible from the way he mangled his w’s and dropped the end of every second word, “Sergeant Valinski at yar servisse!” Simon nodded top him vaguely, “Charmed, I’m sure. I am Dobson, Henry Dobson.” “And vot do ve haves er?” asked Valinski, nodding at Mal. “Captain Malcolm Reynolds, formerly of Firefly class transport ship, Serenity. Bound by law five times and wanted on a half dozen moons and planets. They’d be more than a few willing to pay, I assure you. He has a habit of…well, shall we say…being rather obstinate.” Mal laughed derisively, “And you’re just The Lords gift to the universe, ain’t ya Dobson!” Jayne cuffed him around the ear, “Keep it quiet, convict.” Valinski nodded, “Yar, I see dat, yers,” He pulled out a walkie-talkie with one grimy hand, “I vill call de vardan and he vill fix arp a prise, yers?” It was only a few moments before the Warden appeared, a big man, an ten gallon cowboy hat atop his head, almost knocked away by his swagger. He approached Simon like he was ready to attack and grabbed his hand shaking fiercely, almost glaring into his eyes, gauging him, testing him. To Simon’s credit he stood his ground, though undoubtedly glad of having dark glasses to hide his eyes. “Warden Iverson! Pleased to meetcha! Always glad to see a new face at our humble place of business.” Simon introduced himself to the Warden, while Mal looked around at the defenses. He saw a few remote controlled guns that pointed at the launch pad: pricey, very pricey. Simon had noticed them as well, “It can’t be that humble, Warden. Those cannot have been cheap?” Iverson grinned like an overgrown child with a new toy, “No they were not, that’s fer darn sure. But who can put a price on security! Huh? Still cheaper than they would be in normal circumstances! What after all this trouble floatin’ round the ‘Verse? The only two things the Alliance has still got a lot of is criminals and cash. And we deal in both. So, good times!” Simon gave half smile, a look that Mal recognised as Simon’s nerves showing through, but it could have just as easily been taken for a smirk, by someone who didn’t know the Doc. “It’s my business as well, Warden Iverson. Shall we do some?” “Ahhh, to the point! I like ya laddie!” There was some halfhearted haggling, back and forth, but Iverson already had his sights set on a price that was near what they wanted, so it wasn’t long before Simon was ascending the ramp with Jayne close behind, a bag of platinum in his hand. “Don’t be a stranger, Dobson!” cried Warden Iverson, as Jayne closed the hatch, before he turned to Valinski. “Chuck this one into the pit,” he grunted, poking a thumb at Mal, “And get the infoheads try to fix us upa price from his record.” Valinski saluted sloppily, “Yars, o’ carse, sa.” Valinski hauled Mal up by the handcuffs, flicking out a key and opening them. “Does this mean I can go free? ‘cos I’ve got a banquet to attend,” quipped Mal, grinning at the gaurd sergeant. Valinski grinned back, showing a mouthful of filthy, blackened teeth, “Yar, gotta sensse o’ funnay dontcha?” he smacked Mal over the head with his baton. “Dat won’ las’ much longa!” As blackness claimed him, all Mal could see were those teeth, dark and rotten.