Mal looked down worriedly at the map on the table before him, brow creasing. He placed another pin in the map, signifying another platoon. They were all uncomfortably close. Of course, them being close also meant that the Bugs were, too. A rather serious and not at all likeable turn of events. It had been some two days since Book had informed Mal of him having a plan of some sort. He hadn’t actually told Mal the actual plan yet… still working out a few of the details. In the meantime, Mal had contacted Wash, to a ship prepped just in case… preferably not a military one, if he could find one. As per what Book had told him, he had contacted all of those what he trusted most to not desert him. So far, he had Simon, Kaylee, Zoë, Wash, Tracey, Bendis, and he was in the process of getting in contact with Monty. Said bear of a man was currently the Lieutenant of the Fighting 76th, one of the most decorated platoons on Persephone. Much more so than the Roughnecks- the 76th were always at the front, so much so that the Alliance couldn’t deny them some leave now and again, as they’ve done the Lions Share of fighting and dieing for them. Simon had been increasingly withdrawn these past two days- he was almost laconic now. It was getting on Mals’ nerves, truth to tell- Doc was annoying as it is, but a withdrawn, pensive Doc was just all kinds of creepifying. And, with him being as such, Kaylee was harping on him more’n usual- again, it wore on Mals’ nerves. Mal rubbed his temples. Whatever was gonna happen, he was going to meet Book again tonight. He placed another pin in the map. *** The night swirled around him; both of them. They made their way slowly across the base. They had no clue whether this was a set up- another way to kill off the remnant Independents. That was why they were armed, even if only one of them could use the pistol all proper like. The shadows beckoned to them- a parody of Hope. Who knew what evils were held in the dark, the places where not even the sun touched? He drew the long duster more closely about him, as if to ward off the ever-present chill. The base was empty for now- everyone either asleep or conspicuously not there. It didn’t matter to them- both had too much at stake here to not risk everything. They made their way closer and closer to the spot which would spell their doom- or save them all. When they reached the spot- just outside the light of the corner- they waited. For five long, agonizing minutes, they just stood there, hoping not to get caught at what they were doing. Then, five minutes later, on the dot, exactly when he said he would get there, the shape of Derrial Book materialized out the shadows- they seemed to welcome him as one of their own. Maybe he was. “Evening, Gentlemen,” he greeted cordially enough. “Book,” said Simon. Mal nodded at the man. “Well, Mal tells me that you have a… solution to our little problem?” No one wanted to speak of River aloud for fear of an unwanted ear being privy to their planned treason. “Qu. But, first, we must discuss a few things. Mal, Simon-“ Mal winced. He had never told Book who Simon was. That becomed of someone who knew more than he let on; who were mostly on the side of shooting him in the back of the head. “I need to know- do you two know what Reavers are?” Mal answered for both. “Not much more than what rumors what everyone else heard; wild men on the edges of space. Saw the great big nothin’ once too many and went loony on us. Cannibals, ‘parently. Prey on the odd merchant behind the line of war.” “Correct, in all aspect but one. You see… some things are best left in the dark. Keeps people alive. ‘Cept, when it comes up, it hurts more than it would have usually. The reason why… life us as hectic as it is, is because of them. Dark secret. Ripped through that poor girls brain like wildfire in the brush.” Simon clenched his fist angrily. “And you are telling us all this, why?” Book smiled at them oddly. “Because I am tired of living two lives. Better off to simply die with only one.” Mal took a menacing step closer. “You saying that you plan on makin’ us die?” Books’ smile widened. “Quite the contrary. I plan on making sure that you all get away- with or without me.” Mal stepped back slightly. “Still don’t mean I trust ya.” “If you did, then I would be disappointed in you. You prove me right again, Lieutenant.” “I feel so happy. Now, how do you plan on going about this?” Book handed him a slip of paper. Lowering his voice to a whisper, he said to them, “Make sure to dispose of this when you’re done.” He started to walk away. When he was halfway down the empty street, he stopped. “Oh, and Mal?” He turned back to them, smile reflecting the light and eyes shining. “Qu?” “Don’t die.” Still smiling, Book walked away. Mal pocketed the slip, the turned to Simon. “We’d best be getting gone from here.” “I don’t trust him.” “Good. That makes two of us.” They turned, and headed in the opposite direction of Book. Along the way, Mal unfastened the silencer from the barrel of his pistol. Wouldn’t do to be caught with it here. *** The light here was spotty at best. Mal, Simon, Zoë, Kaylee, Tracey, Bendis, and Wash all looked at the paper. It was simple and handwritten- left handed, if anyone could tell from the chicken scratch handwriting on it. Anyone’s, by the look of it. It had a few sentences on it: Meet me twenty feet from guards, .At the chime of the sixteenth hour on the fifth day. All deaths are un-doable. The Devils Advocate is waiting in the shadows. Place no faith in the Eyes of the Protectors. Slip by, and fly away with the Damned. That which is made shall be undone. Tracey scratched his head in confusion. “Eh?” He squinted at it, as if he could make more sense of it like that. “It’s code,” said Simon. “Meet him Friday, four in the mornin’. No guns, or at least no fatalities. He has a contact somewhere nearby. Sentry’s will be out by then. Once we have the Package, bug out.” “Oh.” He looked sheepishly at the paper. “We can’t all go in,” said Zoë. “Too many, then somebody is bound to trip a wire somewhere, then we’re all humped.” Mal picked up the paper, folding it until it was only a fraction of its’ original size. “Wash, you got a ride for us?” “Yep; an older model Firefly. Parked her outside of base, plenty of scrubbage an’ the like to hide her.” “Shiny. Right, Wash needs to be ready to fly, so he’s out. Kaylee, I’ll need you in the engines, so your magic touch’ll keep her flying. Doc, I need ya ta prep up the ‘Firmary, ‘case one of us gets shot or somesuch. Bendis, guard duty. Zoë, Tracey, and me’ll be doin’ the heistin’. Any problems?” Everyone shook their heads. “Shiny.” With that, he put the paper in his mouth and swallowed. Kaylee turned to Wash, his head for once unrestricted by a helmet. “Wash, what’s her name?” “Serenity.” It was Tuesday night.