Disclaimer: Joss is the all mighty. All hail.

A/N: This is my attempt at a more serious fic. Let me know how you like it.

No spoilers that I'm aware of so y'all are safe. This is rated R. If you have dificulties with implied/talked about rape or bad language then don't read any further.

######################################## Chapter 1

With all of the crime here, Marshal law could have been a good thing. That is, if the law hadn’t been as bad as the rest.

I wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t seen it with my own two eyes. If I hadn’t been a victim of it.

It almost seems impossible that something you believe so strongly in can be pulled right out from under you and sends you crashing down. Hollowing out a void in your chest.

I’d heard the rumors, but dismissed them instantly. Because there was absolutely no way that they could be true. That the Alliance was corrupt? That my life as a Federal Marshal was practically a lie... I guess I was fucking wrong, huh?

My name is Tien Blake. And I am an Alliance Federal Marshal... Or at least I was until about two months ago.

Now I’m called criminal.

Rebel.

I’m also wanted.

Now, when I told you that I was a victim, that might not have been the technical term. I do feel victimized. Betrayed. Raped even.

Let me tell you what I mean.

I was appointed a Federal Marshal at the end of the war. That was over six years ago. I didn’t fight in the war. Soldiers fight wars. I always wanted to be a lawman. They wouldn’t have let me anyways. I am the only son who can carry on my family’s name and they don’t let senators’ only sons go to war.

At the age of twenty, I got to live my dream. Having spent three and a half years in a cadet Academy, I became a Fed.

I was a loyal and dutiful little puppy. I was good at what I did to. I got my first big bust about four months in, before I could legally have alcohol. Parliament gave me a shinning metal and the next few days off.

About three years in, things between me and my old man were becoming tense. Started disagreeing on almost everything. As a way to “teach me a lesson”, he had me transferred to an outer rim planet called Silverlake. A god forsaken dust ball like most rim planets and moons. He hoped that I would beg to come home and be “forgiven” for not agreeing with ever word that came out of his obnoxious mouth.

Well, sorry dear old dad, but I don’t beg. Never have.

Things went all right for the next few years. The occasional murder or rape, not that horrible if you do the math. But almost a year ago, we got a new commanding officer. High Lieutenant Michael Britx. That’s when things started to get bad.

Suddenly, there were more bad guys roaming the streets. The solve rate went down about thirty points. Thirty fucking points! That’s a lot if you’re wondering.

In fact, it got so bad that Lt. Britx ordered Marshal law. And at that time, I agreed with him.

Then the rumors started. And around that time, I noticed that my fellow lawmen were getting more and more pretty things. Every time I went over to one of their places, they always had something new to show me. Like I told you before, I waved it off before even looking into it.

Jessie Lexington, my current ex-girlfriend at the time told me that they were arresting people that had committed no crimes and “commandeering” what few valuables they actually had. But with her being my ex, I blew her off and went back to work.

She had a big mouth and reminded me of my father if anyone’s wondering why we split.

They were all in on it. Every last one of them. It took a criminal to finally open my eyes to what was going on. This skinny black guy named Lamen Cook took a chance on me for some reason and lured me, or guided me really, to where the real crimes were being committed.

It was an unremarkable night and I get a call that some guy is trying to break into someone’s house. Lamen made me chase him ten blocks before we came upon it.

We were in the more rundown part of the town I was in at the time. A small house that looked ready for renovation was the place. He let me catch him and get him cuffed before saying anything to me. He turned to me and met my eyes with a hard look that really made me want to hit him and told me to look inside that house. “That’s were the real crime is,” he told me.

I told him to shut up and get moving to the station. As we walked, he taunted me. Asked me why don’t I just go check the house? If I was the overall law on this planet why couldn’t I just walk in and make sure things were okay?

This annoyed the crap out of me, so finally, just to shut him up I might add, I gave in and cuffed him to a street lamp and went back to the house.

That wasn’t a smart thing to do, now that I look back on it. It could have been an ambush or something.

It wasn’t.

I didn’t expect what I found.

... How could I?

Now when Marshal law is put into motion, certain things happen. Marshals suddenly have all power to do anything to peruse the means of justice and civilians give up their rights. No need for warrants or paper work or politics.

Now as I found out, that if you give scumbags power, they are going to use it.

Why is it that I, one single person on this planet did not have the impulse to take something that didn’t belong to me? That I, one person, didn’t abuse my power?

I have no idea and I don’t want to think on it.

Have you ever witnessed a gangbang rape? Not just one consenting women having sex with five men, but one being forced against her will? Well that’s what I walked in on.

Miss Mary-Louis Xioujing. Beaten. Torn. Ripped in places that made me want to blow chunks. Her throat was raw, almost bloody from screaming. Being violated by five men that I called Brothers-In-Arms.

I stared in a horrified shock until they noticed me. Chai Martin, my partner back when I first landed on this rock, pulled himself out of the crying girl and turned to me.

The thing that came out of his mouth made me kill him first.

He motioned toward the once beautiful girl with a smug grin on his face and said, “Have a taste. This bitch is tight.”

That was about two months ago. Now I’m wanted for the murders of Alliance Federal Marshals.

I know I’ll die if I stay here, but I can’t really do anything about it. Lt. Britx cut off all communication off planet except for the try-annual supply drop. No way to report them. No real idea how far this corruption went. No way off this planet.

So... fuck it. If I have to die protecting the people I swore to protect and serve, then I will. I’ll die and be forever remembered as a traitor.

Let them come.

I want to show these people what true justice is and if I die to do that, then so fucking be it...

########################################

Mal was in a bad mood.

Not because he couldn’t find work. Not even because he was transporting things for an Alliance ran planet. No. Mal was in a bad mood because it just so happened that Inara’s client this stop was his client as well.

Just when things started to look better for the Captain and Companion too. The fights had been fewer and farther between lately. They exchanged what some people might consider as “compliments” and “civil conversation”.

And now this.

As soon as he’d learned the name of her client, he went off like a gorram time bomb. It ended with both of them shouting hurtful things at each other and Mal had actually broken Inara’s small table in their rage.

It always hurt to see Inara on the arm of one of her “clients”, but he’d die before he’d ever admit it. Now he had to conducted business with one of them while she gave herself to him.

He didn’t like the look of High Lieutenant Michael Britx when he had first contacted him for the job. Right now, Mal was certain that he hated him.

But, as Zoe, Jayne and Wash had all pointed out, they needed the coin. Kaylee was complaining about some engine parts. And the rest of them were all demanding this thing called “food”.

And now, he was pretty certain that he owed Inara for that table.

Gorramit!

“Having second thoughts, sir?” Zoe asked watching him grumble and brood about the cargo bay.

“Second thoughts?” he repeated. “No. I’m pretty sure I’m in the high nineties by now.”

“We need this job, sir,” she told him for what seemed like the millionth time. “It’s a good take for one job.”

Mal nodded silently and looked over at the cargo that almost filled the entire hold. The try-annual supply drop for Silverlake. Legit work for once. Didn’t feel like “honest” work, but it was legal.

“So what’s the problem, sir?” she asked, knowing that it had to Inara, but decided that would be the wrong thing to say like always.

Mal shook his head and started to leave the room. “No problem. Tell your husband to make sure we get there in one piece.”

Zoe frowned and watched him go. Things were going well for a while, then Mal and Inara had this huge fight and they were back at square one.

Zoe had no ill feelings towards the Companion, but this was becoming troublesome.

########################################

There are a few things that you don’t want to see when you open your doors on a planet you’ve never frequented before. Ten Federal Marshals, all armed to the teeth and looking about ready to snap would be one of them.

“Hi,” Mal said, looking through the men with big guns. “Special delivery.”

One of the steadier looking boys lowered his weapon and moved into the cargo hold.

“I’m Captain Malcolm Reynolds,” Mal held out his hand but the gesture went ignored.

The Marshal looked back to his men. “Get the lifts, and be quick about it,” he ordered and turned back to Mal. “Sgt. Bauer Reevs.”

“I’m in business with a man called Britx,” Mal told him. “If one of you ain’t him, we got a problem.”

“There’s no problem, Captain,” Reevs told him. “Lt. Britx has been detained by an other appointment.”

Mal’s face darkened when he realized that Inara was Britx’ other appointment. “Then who has our coin?” he asked.

“Once we’re done here we’ll escort you to his office to wait for his engagement to be finished,” Reevs said as some of the other Marshals began to take the crates from the ship. “You’ll be paid then.”

########################################

“This is quite nice,” Britx said looking around Inara’s shuttle. “I like the drapes. Very elegant.”

“Thank you,” Inara replied politely as they moved through the shuttle towards her couch. “Would you like some tea?” she asked.

“Oh, no thank you,” he said and sat down uninvited on the couch. He jumped slightly when a distant sound came from the outside.

“You seem a bit wound,” she observed as she sat down on the other side of the couch. “Is everything alright?”

“Just some problems with the locals,” he shook his head. “Things are getting out of hand.”

“Really?” she asked. “How so?”

“There’s a killer out there,” he said. “He’s been targeting Marshals for the last two months.”

“Oh my,” she gasped. “That’s horrible.”

“Thirteen Marshals in two months,” he told her.

“Just one man?” she asked.

“It started that way, but it seems he’s gathering forces,” Britx said. “He’s very skilled. He knows our protocol and patrolling routes.”

“It must be a nightmare,” Inara said, not overly interested, but played the part. Her mind was somewhat preoccupied with a certain blue-eyed Captain that destroyed her tea table just hours before. She had to hide it in the cockpit of the shuttle before Lt. Britx’ appointment.

She didn’t let it show, but she felt a bit odd having Mal’s current boss as a client. She didn’t know exactly why, but she did. Mal never wanted to know about her business endeavors, yet somehow always curious about them.

She didn’t know at the time when she arranged the meeting with Lt. Britx that he was Mal’s employer. So when he exploded when he’d got the name from her, she didn’t know why. Well, she knew why, but she didn’t why he’d gotten so mad. Everything was getting easier between them lately and she didn’t want to fight, but rather than show her hurt, she shouted back. Things she didn’t mean. Things she didn’t want to say but did anyway.

Inara sighed and leaned back into her couch as she half listened to Lt. Britx ramble on about his problems, her mind elsewhere, when suddenly, the sound of gunfire startled them. Britx jumped off of the couch and looked around fearfully.

“What was that?” Inara asked, standing up as well.

Britx reached for his gun, but came back empty handed. Inara’s rule of no weapons in her shuttle had made him take it off and give it to one of the two guards standing outside.

Britx cursed and jumped out of his skin when the doors to the shuttle were wrenched open. “Ahh!” he screamed and backed further away from the door.

Inara looked towards the entrance to her home with wide eyes. She stood and moved over to her bedside to retrieve her .22 pistol from under her pillow as he entered.

She studied him. He was about Mal’s height, with great blue eyes himself. He had long shoulder length blonde hair and a short beard that made him look like a lion.

He was ferocious as one as well.

He raised a big handgun from his side and quickly shot Lt. Britx in the leg, making the man collapse to the floor. She pulled her own gun as he approached the fallen man, but didn’t get a chance to fire. Suddenly, with a loud bang, her hand stung and her pistol was on the floor. It took her a moment to realize that he’d shot it from her hand.

“Don’t do that,” he told her in a deep rasp. “Sit on the bed,” he motioned her with his gun.

“What do you want?” her voice held a small tremble as she complied with his command.

“Not you, don’t worry,” he replied and stepped on Britx’ wounded leg and pushed down.

Inara winced as he let out a tortured screamed.

“Are you having fun yet, Lieutenant?” the gunman asked over the noise and stomped his leg again.

“Please!” he screamed. “Please. Have mercy!”

The man chuckled. “Mercy?” he took his foot away and knelt down next to him. “Have you ever heard the saying, ‘An eye for an eye’? You’re a Christian boy. It’s in the Bible.”

Britx just whimpered when the man put his gun to his eye.

“So is, ‘Turn the other cheek’,” Inara said.

The man smirked up at her. “I’m talking New Testament.”

“You have to take both into consideration,” she replied.

“Not in this instance,” he said and fired his gun.

Inara let out an unwanted screamed when blood splashed up into her face. She trembled as she crawled back on her bed against the wall, tears welling in her eyes.

The man studied the mess he’d made for a moment and stood. He pulled out a handkerchief and tossed it to her casually. “You got...” he motioned to the splatters on her face.

Suddenly, another man entered the room behind him and called. “Boss, we got to go!”

“Got it,” he replied to the black man and looked back to Inara. “Sorry about the mess.”

Inara watched as he spun and stalked out of the room. His long brown duster, one that would make Mal envious, flowing behind him in his wake.

After a few minutes of silence, she reached out with a shaking hand and grabbed the handkerchief. She wiped off her face roughly and threw it towards the door.

Unable to stop herself, Inara hugged her knees to her chest and cried.

########################################

A/N: Well there you go. The first chapter is finished. There's more to come. I hope I didn't scew up too many things. If you liked it, tell me. If not, then now is a time for quiet as Joss would say.

Please REVIEW!!!