www.stillflying.net presents... Virtual Firefly Season 2 Episode 3: Salvage Written by J.C. Ravage Directed by George W. Krubski Story Consultants: Matt Engstrom & D.C. Washington

Teaser from 2x03: Salvage ----------------------------------------------------------------------------

EXT. ATHENS – STREETS - ESTABLISHING - DAY Athens is somewhat modern, a mix of what we’ve seen of the Central Worlds and the outer planets. The streets are lined with shops and storefronts, with a mix of smaller corporate offices. Hover-vehicles pass by in the street. From some of the storefronts hang Alliance flags. MAL and JAYNE walk side by side, peering into various stores as they go. JAYNE: Can’t believe you leavin’ it on, Mal. You got . MAL: Well, it is a tad nipsome out. Jayne looks at his own short-sleeve shirt, then at Mal’s brown coat. Everyone around them is dressed for spring. JAYNE: Yeah. Downright frigid. MAL: It’s a damp cold. Gets into the bones. Look, don’t go questioning my motives. I… Jayne falls behind, window-shopping in front of a grocery store. JAYNE: Would you look at that Mal... Melons. As Mal stops, Jayne gestures to a large stack of honeydew melons, behind an LCD on-sale sign. JAYNE (cont’d): Beautiful, firm melons. INT. CLOTHING STORE – SAME TIME We see a close-up of a pair of BREASTS in a slinky dress. Mannequin’s breasts. WASH (OS): Wow. We pull pack to see that ZOE, WASH, and RIVER are gathered around a rotating display of SLINKY DRESSES. Zoe is staring at one of the dresses as it goes around. River’s got a fistful of skittles-type CANDY, which she’s carefully eating color-by-color. Wash looks from the mannequin’s breasts, to Zoe’s, and back… and back again. ZOE: Is it too slinky? WASH: No such thing as too slinky. RIVER: Not practical. Zoe and Wash turn to her. She hasn’t looked up. She appears to be counting the remaining green candies. RIVER (cont’d): No place to put your gun. ZOE: There is that... (to Wash) Think I’d look silly with a holster over this? She mimes a holster that would sling through her cleavage. WASH: Silly is not what comes to mind, no. River giggles. RIVER: Melons… Wash looks at River. He laughs. Zoe smiles. WASH: Something like that, River. River shoves a piece of candy in Wash’s mouth. RIVER: Like this? WASH (muffled): Exactly. He looks at Zoe. ZOE: Isn’t baby-sitting fun? WASH: Hope those two are grateful.

INT. SERENITY – CARGO BAY – SAME TIME The cargo bay is filled with BALES OF HOPS, tied up tightly and stacked by the walls. KAYLEE and SIMON lounge on a pair of bales laid out end to end, like a couch, near the open airlock door, the ramp dropped down onto the landing area. Kaylee leans on Simon’s shoulder, while Simon plays with a dried stalk of grain. SIMON: Beer? KAYLEE: Finest hops in the system, or so the Cap’n was told. SIMON: And the Captain is a great expert on alcoholic beverages? I’d think that’s more Jayne’s line. KAYLEE: Figure Jayne’s more for the drinkin’ than the knowin’ about. (beat) Can’t grow nowhere else but here. Somethin’ to do with the way the light reaches Athens. It’s in high demand… Simon pretends to fall asleep, fake-snoring. KAYLEE: Hey! I listen to your doctory insights! Kaylee smacks Simon, and they laugh. Beat. Simon stops and Kaylee touches his hand. KAYLEE (cont’d): Hey. After a moment, Simon looks at her and smiles. KAYLEE (cont’d): You all right? SIMON: River... (beat) Wash and Zoe will watch out for her… But… I should be able to enjoy this without worrying… I mean, this is nice! This uncommon peace and quiet. KAYLEE: It is nice. SIMON: No bounty hunters. No slavers or crime bosses. No Alliance to worry about. KAYLEE: Well, almost… INT. FANCY RESTAURANT – SAME TIME The restaurant is fancy, with AQUARIUMS throughout, some of the tanks for viewing, some for keeping the food fresh and alive. TWO WOMEN sit at one of the tables, eating sushi. The elder of the two is ARB DIRECTOR HINES, dressed in a pressed blue uniform resembling, but not quite, Alliance Military. Her face is wrinkled with the stress of the job and keeping order within the ranks. The younger is AMY MARIN, a pretty blonde woman in her mid-twenties, dressed in the future equivalent of a business suit. HINES: You have my attention, Miss Marin, for the remainder of this meal, and not a minute more. The Alliance Reconstruction Brigade annual review is underway. AMY: Earlier today, Alliance military forwarded us a distress call from one of our freighters, The Forty Days, bound for Actaeon, the second moon of the gas giant, Artemis. You may remember the colonists who chose to settle there. The director, more interested in her food than in Amy Marin, takes a beat to answer. HINES: The ones that foolishly settled where Alliance Expansionary recommended they not, ran into trouble with their atmospheric processors, and asked us to help pick up the pieces? AMY (uncomfortable): The very ones, ma’am. HINES: And now they find themselves in need yet again? Amy nods, eats a piece of sushi. HINES (cont’d): Typical. We tell them not to do something, they disobey and choose to do it anyway. And now it’s our problem. She waves a chop-stick, indicating that Amy should continue. AMY: Further attempts to make contact were unsuccessful, but they managed to send their location and condition. HINES: And the military cruiser did not investigate? AMY: Section thirteen point seven of the Expansion Act, ma’am. HINES: Ah, of course. Thirteen point seven… AMY: If that terraforming equipment does not reach Actaeon, we are talking about an atmospheric breakdown that will destroy its ability to sustain life, and the lives of the colonists already there. We are talking about mass evacuation. Or else… Hines chews slowly. HINES: Do we have any volunteers onboard? AMY: Two, ma’am. Hines is not happy. HINES: How long? AMY: If we send a ship now, best estimate is that they’ll have somewhere between three and five hours to repair the ship before her orbit decays beyond the point of no return. Hines puts down her chopsticks. HINES: Three hours… AMY: As you are well aware, we often don’t have the time to properly fund such endeavours. This mission falls into that category, I’m afraid, and since time is of the essence, certain protocols must be bypassed. HINES: That’s what the flexible fund is there for. AMY: Precisely. HINES: Well, then… Hines pushes her plate away (still half-full), as if she has lost her appetite. She turns away from Amy, to face across the table. HINES (cont’d): On behalf of the Planetary Alliance and the ARB, I would like to thank you and your crew for your commitment, dedication, and willing sacrifice in this matter. You have chosen to serve the needs of the ARB and the ideals of our great Alliance. The Alliance thanks you, Captain Harbatkin. We finally see that Mal is sitting right there at the table. He chews his food, while Jayne picks at it with mistrust. Mal swallows his food, wipes his mouth with a napkin, brushes crumbs off of his coat’s brown lapels. AMY: Yes, Captain. You have our thanks. MAL: Well, you are most welcome, ladies. (beat)Ah... I believe there was mention of a flexible fund?

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