If you haven't you should read "Beginning's End" first. Disclaimer: Don't own it. If I was making money with it I wouldn't be a starving student, so just let me have my fun. Thanks a million for all the shiny comments-- keep it up! ------------------------------------------------- Kaylee stood outside the infimary, gazing at the doctor through the window. He was immersed in his work, busy patching the woman the captain had brought on board back together. Zoe stood opposite him in surgery, mopping up rivulets of blood and handing him instruments, while Wash sat nearby in a chair, providing more blood for transfusion. It wasn’t the first time Kaylee had gone out of her way to watch Simon at work. There was something yanqing about the way his hands moved… even though his face was obscured by the white mask, she always liked to watch his fingers as he probed and stitched. Fixing people. Just like he’d fixed her, that one time she’d got shot. She hoped the cap’n was doing ok. They’d just been finishing up stowing the cargo, her and Zoe and the Shepherd, when they saw Mal and Jayne come trudging out of the woods. Mal had stopped just long enough to set the strange girl he was carrying down on Simon’s med bed and bark at Simon to look after her before disappearing into his bunk. Wasn’t like the cap’n to disappear like that, no explanation or nothing. Hardly a word to no one. Didn’t even seem to care about the cargo. “You think she’ll make it?” Kaylee glanced up to see Jayne leaning against the infirmary window next to her. He bit into the green apple he was holding, staring in at the woman on the table as he chewed with his mouth open. “Simon’s zhen de shi tian cai when it comes to fixin’ people. He’ll get her better,” Kaylee replied, nodding firmly. “Won’t he?” “She’s tore up pretty bad. Shepherd’s in the kitchen prayin’. Wonder who she is. Who did that to her. Don’t seem to be no mystery to Mal though.” “What? No. But why wouldn’t he tell us about her?” Jayne shrugged. “Don’t know. But I know what I saw when we dug her up. He looked at her face and he knows her. Makes me uncomfortable. We better hurry up and get the hell off this rock ‘fore whoever got her comes lookin’ for us.” “We’re waitin’ for Inara. She’s not supposed to be back ‘till tomorrow,” Kaylee answered. “And besides, what if there’s somebody ‘round here missin’ her?” “Exactly my point.” “I meant like a family or somethin’. Somebody who cared about her.” Jayne shrugged again. “I ain’t gettin’ pinched so some girl I don’t even know can have a warm fuzzy reunion with folks I don’t even wanna know. Oughta be enough that we’re tryin’ to mop her up,” Jayne grumbled as he finished his apple and turned to walk away, leaving Kaylee still standing outside the infirmary. Something about this whole unsettlin’ situation gave him a powerful need to lift weights. ------------------------------------------------- “Alright, boys, gather in here and take a knee,” Commander Belton shouted. His men clustered in around him. He turned to the lieutenant standing behind him. “How many did you find?” “168 bodies, sir. Estimate 43 to be personnel—still waiting on forensics to run dental records and DNA to be sure.” “Okay, men, that leaves 6 people unaccounted for, any or all of which could be convicted prisoners. Average speed for an uninjured person travelling on foot over rough terrain is 4 mph, and the attack on this facility occurred at 2 o’clock this morning. That gives us a radius of 36 miles. I want checkpoints along every major highway, road, trail, and driveway that occurs within that radius. I want men fanning out and searching every home, barn, stable, rock, and tree within that radius. I want you, lieutenant, to call port control and put a landlock on every ship, shuttle, and transport on the northwest quadrant of this continent. If there is so much as a hot air balloon leaving the ground I want to know about it. I am NOT losing these parasites offworld, understood? Then MOVE!” As his federal soldiers began to spread out and break into groups, Cdr. Belton turned back toward the smoldering ruin behind him. What a mess. He shook his head slowly. For years he, along with the rest of the Alliance, had been striving to bring peace to the wartorn outer rim. But for some the war would never be over. Lakai had been a hard moon to bring in to the fold in the first place—its people had presented a more united front than on most worlds, and they possessed almost unparallelled tenacity. By the time the Independents surrendered the world, more than half of Lakai’s population had been wiped out. Even now, 6 years after the war had ended, many of the people refused to build new lives under Alliance rule. Repopulation of the southern continent with Alliance-loyal colonists had produced positive effects there, but terrorism was rising dramatically over the rest of the world. The increases in terrorist attacks were what had landed Belton out here in the first place. Attacks on Alliance facilities had become almost constant in recent months, and if the trend spread to the southern continent, Alliance control could be threatened. That could not be allowed to happen, if for no other reason than to honor the sacrifice made by the thousands of federal soldiers who had given their lives to win Lakai in the first place. Belton would never understand the tactics the Lakaian terrorists employed. Take this facility, for example. By bombing Northwest Regional Correctional Facility #4317 and burning what remained to the ground, the terrorists had killed a significant fraction of the Alliance-loyal guards and personnel and destroyed its research facility, but they had also killed nearly all the prisoners it held. It didn’t seem to matter to these people that the prisoners, many of them Lakaian Browncoat war criminals, died trapped in their cells when the building tumbled and burned. They were ready to blow their own people off the map as long as they took the Alliance with them. “Sir.” The voice of the lieutenant broke Belton’s reverie. “Forensics report just came in. 46 of the bodies were identified as personnel, and all other staff were accounted for. Also, the men just found the body of a prisoner 250 yards into the woods. A couple of the guards say they shot at someone running into the trees shortly after the bomb went off.” “Leaves us with two Houdinis. What’s the status on the landlock?” “Done. But port control said to tell you that they can only lock the ships they know are here. Any ship that’s landed without permission may still be able to take off.” Belton sighed. “Alright, well, we’ll just have to use our eyes. Have port control monitor for any unauthorized takeoffs. Time to go to work.” “Yes sir.” “And lieutenant? Get me a coffee. Big one. Lots of sugar.” ------------------------------------------------- Night had fallen by the time Mal emerged from his bunk. Dinner was long past. Most of the crew had dispersed—Wash and Zoe to their bunk, Jayne to the cargo bay to try to work some of the discomfort in his mind out by way of his biceps. Kaylee was probably down in the engine room tinkering with some thing or other. Mal knew that the crew had questions. Questions that would require answers sooner or later. Answers that he didn’t have right now. He walked down the deserted corridor, keeping his steps quiet. Questions would have to be answered, but if he could avoid answering them right now he would. The infirmary was dark. The only light came from the monitors behind the head of the medbed, which cast a pale bluish glow on the woman’s face. Mal walked in slowly, coming to stand near her shoulder. He brushed her dark hair back from her forehead, gently lifting a lock away from the stitches on her face. Almost without realizing it, he reached down and took her hand in his. It felt small and cold in the darkness. “Paying a visit, Captain?” Mal jumped at the voice, dropping the woman’s hand, as Shepherd Book stepped into the dark infirmary. “Mind if I turn the lights on?” “Go ahead. Just seeing how our latest acquisition fares. You here to bring her some assistance from on high?” “Actually, Simon asked me to look in on her. It seems that River is having a rough evening, and he says that this woman really isn’t stable enough to be left alone yet.” Mal shaded his face as the fluorescent lights overhead flickered on. “The young doctor seems to think he could treat her more effectively if he had some sort of medical history.” Mal sighed. It was beginning already, with the questions. “Tough to come up with that kind of information on a foundling. Maybe he should ask his sister—she’s the one who always seems to know things she shouldn’t.” “Jayne claims he saw recognition in your face when you found her.” “So now we’re going on what Jayne thinks?” “Maybe I spoke too soon.” Mal stared at the floor, uncertain how to respond. “Why don’t you go get some sleep, Preacher. I’ll stay with her.” The Shepherd nodded and turned to leave. “You know, Captain,” he called back over his shoulder, “sometimes sharing your burden is good for the soul. When you’re ready…” his voice trailed off. He ran his hand down the door frame as he stepped out into the corridor. “Stephanie.” The preacher turned around suddenly at Mal’s whisper. “What did you say, Captain?” “Stephanie.” His voice was louder now, but still not quite steady. “Her name. Stephanie Riemann.” Shepherd book turned back into the infirmary as Mal sank back to sit on the edge of the spare bed. The captain still stared at the floor. “You are acquainted with her, then?” A single syllable of low, mirthless laughter escaped the captain’s throat. “Wo de tian a, I nearly married her.”