Chapter Two

*Please see the prologue and Chapter One of this story if you think starting at the very beginning is a very good place to start.

*The characters and their world belong to Mr. Whedon and company; the mistakes and the follies are solely mine.

::In Inara’s Shuttle::

Inara is at her cortex screen, in luminous colors, when Zoe knocks at the open door. “Zoe, welcome.” she smiles, turning from a scrolling page of symbols and text. “I hear we have you to thank for a new job.” “Yes and no. Charles Mang had heard of you long before I arrived on Lotus. In fact, I begin to think you are the reason he was so interested in contracting with me. ” “Fair turn then. Seein’ all the jobs you’ve lost before.” “There does seem some odd justice to the thought.” There’s a slight pause, and Inara looks at the first-mate, her sincerity plainly visible, despite the shimmering planes of make-up. “Zoe, I looked for some trap, and I’ve been reading the Guild archives, as well as other sources. I don’t see what he stands to gain in harming you.” “Ain’t always about gain.” “From what I’ve seen and read, he’s a business man first and last. Everything is cost and benefit to him.” “Thought I heard something ‘bout an honor code.” “On Lotus, honor is as much currency as platinum. It’s something he knows, but doesn’t necessarily feel.” “So you ain’t nervous about this?” “I wouldn’t say that. I just don’t want you to think—” but Zoe cuts her off with a wide smile, hearing the concern and needless responsibility in the movements of her hands, spaces in her words. “Fahng sheen ‘Nara. We’re going in all eyes open.” Inara nods her head, reminding herself that Zoe, at least, knew what she was doing. Would keep her head. “Now, you’ve got coordinates set for this rendezvous? We’re gonna be taking Shuttle 2—” “No need. I’ll fly you there.” “I don’t think—“ “Please,” she says, and Zoe hears the same tone Inara used a moment ago. This job would be hard enough without the two of them at odds. Something they both knew. Inara stands and moves forward, as she explained: “Mang Gong expects my presence, as I am acting as the facilitating third party. I don’t think they’ll let you into the compound, let alone his presence, without me.” “Well. Too bad Wash didn’t take that bet.” Inara’s momentarily confused, but they share equal looks of resignation on hearing boots clank against the catwalk. “You or me?” Zoe asks. “If I tell him—“ Inara starts. “Tell who what?” Mal asks walking in, brown coat swinging. “Tell you that I will be accompanying you to Mang Gong’s compound.” “Now that’s a funny thought.” Inara just looks at him, crossing her arms in a pose incongruous with her elaborate sari. Zoe settles back against the sofa, watching calmly, waiting to see if Inara would need her to step in. “You ain’t going.” “Why not? “Because.” “Because?” He hates how her face can scream distain while still looking so... glowy. “It’s too dangerous.” “I just spent two days with the man, Mal.” “It weren’t—but it’s—he don’t” he’s racking his brains for something, but safety, business, and getting mixed up in illegality don’t much work as reasons, seeing how she brought him the job on that hun dan’s request after spending the night in his bed. Nights. Ta ma duh. He closes his eyes instead. “Zoe?” he almost begs, eyes still closed. “Sir. Imagine Inara can have us there by rendezvous time if we leave now. I’ll let Wash know the plan.” She zips out of the shuttle. Mal’s shoulders drop. “I have to go, Mal. He’s not going to let you in unless I’m there to verify your identity and intentions. There are rituals and honors than cannot be avoid, on Lotus.” She starts running through the shuttle’s pre-flight sequence. Mal drops heavily into the co-pilot’s chair. “Mal, listen to me,” Inara wants to say. “This is a good job. Play nice, and leave here with fewer worries and more coin.” But he’s fiddling with controls on his side of the console and intently not looking at her. So instead she stays silent, double-checking gauges that all read normal. Mal’s playing over ways of saying thank you that don’t sound petty and don’t sound like he’s somehow beholden to her and her contacts. Ain’t likely to work, that sensible part of him points out, but he figures he can be rational when they set down at this hun dan’s shiny palace. Right now sullen’s working just fine. He hears the shuttle door shut, and Zoe walks in and straps down. “Ready on your mark, sir.” “Alright, let’s get this over with,” he says, and shuts his eyes again, as Inara checks out with Wash and takes the shuttle into the sky.

::ON Serenity’s bridge::

“I thought we were leavin’?” Wash has his feet up on the console, dinos scattered about in new configurations, Kaylee notes as she joins the two men. Wash ignores Jayne’s question, as he watches the shuttle disappear into Lotus’s horizon. “Where’s ‘Nara going?” Kaylee asks. “Cap’n didn’t say anything ‘bout a change in plans.” “Is everything alright.” Simon stands balanced in the doorframe, rocking on his outstretched arms. “I thought I heard a shuttle take off.” “’Nara left,” Kaylee fills him in. “Oh. So...” “We don’t know why,” she smiles at him. “Actually, Inara took off with Zoe and Mal.” “Nara took Zoe...on... a ... job?” Jayne’s eyes glaze over. “Why’d they need—“ Kaylee doesn’t finish, but Simon picks up her thought. “Are we anticipating trouble?” “Most like.” Wash shrugs. “Least, usually is when we have a job.” He decides he bored of the chit-chatter, and the crew isn’t giving him the straight lines he was hopin’ for. Kwong-juh duh planet even throws his sense of humor off. “Seems some gongzi client of Inara’s heard of us, and thinks we can pull off a job for him. Something about honor and clans and the like. They’re talking it over tea.” “They’re having tea, with Inara, and a client?” Jayne’s eyes are still shifting back and forth. “Tea sounds good,” Kaylee says, patting Jayne on the arm and heading to the galley. “C’mon, Simon, you want some?” she asks as she brushes by him and keeps talking. “Don’t see why they call this the greenest planet spinning. Lotus’s port’s as dusty as any other I’ve seen, and ain’t nobody selling even an ice-planet dockside. Everybody’s so busy workin’.” “Do we even have any tea left?” Wash asks, standing up and following. “I think there’s some, in one...” the crew disappears off the bridge, debating which hidden cabinet was like to have Mal’s stash of real leaves in it, rather than the niou-su synthesized powder. They left Jayne, staring out the front windows, muttering to himself about companions and “tea”. In the kitchen they find River and Book at the table, steaming mugs in front of them. “River informed me there was a meeting?” Books explains, as River’s eyes start on Wash and widen a bit. They flit from the pilot to the mechanic to the doctor. “Beware the choice of Eris; what will you have?” At their raised eyes and confused looks to each other (I thought she was having a good day? Eris? Beware, why? Beware what?) she blows into her mug and shakes her head. “I’m the Mad Hatter,” she says with sudden lift to her voice, the intensity of her first statement eased by the glee in this new one. “You’re late.”

::In Inara’s shuttle:: Once above and past the spaceport, Zoe has to admit Lotus’s charms grow exponentially. The planet’s topside is crosshatched with the low greenhouses that reflect their sun’s light in shining streaks and bands of color. Greenhouses that grow a variety of fruits and plants, Zoe knows, masking the clans’ true harvest of poppies. Poppies that grew from seed to harvest in seven days, if the cortex tales had it right, faster than the Alliance could find, though it had tried, for years. Unsuccessful raid after another, ‘Liance elites rooting through raspberries and irises, while the next greenhouse over burned their evidence and planted the next batch in the ash. Like a purplebelly on Lotus, the saying went. “Fetching little world, ain’t it?” Mal breaks her revere. “Glad we ain’t up against the greenhouses, sir.” “Be glad when we’re off this rock. Who’s idea was it to come here, anyways? Drug-traders. Honor-clans. Makes one more homesick for the rim than a ‘Liance cruiser’s hail.” “And how are you going to make it to the rim, Mal, if you can’t fuel Serenity?” Inara asks. She banks hard while doing so, throwing Mal a bit. Zoe’s unshaken. “She’s got fuel. Some. Anyhows, not much your concern, is it, Inara, seeing how you’re leavin’ us,” he tosses back, but her hands are hitting a few switches and the shuttle is sinking down, settling to the ground the way a crane folds to land. Figures ‘Nara would fly like she walks, Mal thinks resentfully, and then gets tangled in his restraint and near falls on top of her. Zoe’s already on the ground, hands up and waiting, looking at three guards. Inara just stares at Mal until he marches out in huff and gets slammed against the shuttle and forcibly searched for his hostile attitude. Head to the side, he watches Inara float by to talk softly to one guard, as another just waves a portable scanner around Zoe. She hands her gun over without blinking, and they don’t give Mal a choice. Inara moves forward first, to vine-covered gates, swinging open at her approach. ~*~

Translations:

fahgn sheen: don’t worry ta ma duh: curse you can’t say on television hun dan: bastard kwong-juh duh: nuts (as in crazy) gonzi: nobleman/gentleman niou-su: cow-dung