"Bad Business" Annie M (trekgirl@blueyonder.co.uk)

Part: 3/6

See part one for disclaimers and summary

~~/\~/\~~

Once he'd been ushered into Commander Choi's small office Mal refused the offered seat, standing erectly, hands clasped behind his back.

Choi remained seated behind his desk, briefly acknowledging Mal's presence with a flick of his head, which simultaneously dismissed his aide. The commander didn't stand, or offer to shake Mal's hand, preferring to appear engaged in the report on his otherwise bare, shiny, grey desk.

Mal took in the sterile décor of the commander's office as he continued to be ignored. The rest of the room was just like Choi's desk--grey with hints of white, spotlessly clean and utterly inhospitable in its starkness.

"It seems we owe you a debt of thanks," Choi said, finally looking up from his papers.

"Thanks?" Mal asked, a little confused by Choi's opening gambit. "We haven't discussed--"

"It says here that you assisted a Commander Harken a few months back," the commander interrupted easily, eyes downcast as he turned over a page from his report. "I'm grateful," he said, sounding it.

Mal swallowed. "Sure," he said awkwardly.

Now that he'd finally got a look at him, Mal considered Choi's appearance. He was about Mal's age with straight black cropped hair in the usual Alliance style. Choi's skin, lying taut over his features, was tanned and lined. His eyes were almond shaped, as if made by a precise incision, and they stared up at him unblinking. The grey uniform he wore was as spotless as everything else Mal had seen since entering the Fed compound.

"One good deed doesn't elevate you though," Choi said coolly. "You and your crew are still low-life scum and thieves as far as I'm concerned," he continued in his flat, even tone.

Mal curled his fists, which were still behind his back and leaning closer to Choi's desk he snapped briskly, "And I appreciate your candour; now you wanted to meet because?"

Choi didn't flinch, but leaned back in his chair slightly. "Miss Serra's informed you of some of the details, I understand?"

Raising himself slightly and backing away from the desk, Mal nodded.

"This is an opportunity... Captain," Choi uttered Mal's rank as if he were searching for a more appropriate title. "To prove me wrong about you, if you can."

"I ain't here to prove a damn thing, just do a job, if you ever get to it," Mal responded shortly.

Choi smiled, leaning his elbows onto his desk. "This isn't the first time we've lost contact with one of our moons in this sector. We've had some trouble with raiders, pirates and the like over the last few months--wherever we have a minimal presence--but I take offence when it happens in my own back yard, you understand.

"Morfan, one of our training moons, has a complement of thirty-six Alliance soldiers at all times. I sent in a unit to return with equipment for use here on Talos. As you're aware we haven't heard a word from them since they set down, over a week ago.

"What I want you to do is go in and find out what happened to those men. If there's anyone still alive down there, I want you to bring them back."

"And the equipment you were after?" Mal asked.

"That doesn't concern you, besides, if that moon was hit by bandits the soldiers would have destroyed it before it fell into their hands."

Mal smiled tightly. "Well, that's a comfort."

"You'll be expected to report back on all of your findings when you return, and as agreed through Miss. Serra, we'll pay you a quarter of the agreed price now, the rest after your return and report. Do we have a deal?" "What if we run into any trouble while we're looking for your boys?"

"I'll expect you to deal with it. Bring back 'prisoners' if you like; you'll be compensated."

Mal nodded in approval, but knowing the type of hitches that could arise in a situation dictated by Feds, he sought more details. "So, you're letting us run the show, or are you fixing to come along for the ride?"

Choi gave an exasperated sigh. "Captain Reynolds, you're missing the point; if I had the resources to spare I wouldn't be speaking to you at all!"

Mal felt a grin splitting his face for what felt like the first time in days, and unable to keep the irony out of his voice, he said, "Oh, you need us."

"Let me make this quite clear, *Sergeant*, this is a one time only deal," Choi responded hotly, quickly rising from his chair to lean heavily over his desk. "This job might prove beneficial to you in any future dealings you have with the Alliance. But if you try *zhuang pian* us, I guarantee, you, your crew and that pile of *gos se* you call a ship won't be in the sky for much longer. You'll be spending the rest of your sorry lives breaking rocks on a penal moon, while we sell your ship for the scrap that it is."

"Inara's part of my crew too, " Mal said slowly, ignoring the deliberate dig at his former military status.

Recovering himself, Choi sat back down. "Then I hope you have that lovely lady's welfare at heart," his voice back to its more natural tone. "My assistant will see you off the compound," he continued dismissively, face drawn back to his report.

Mal grimaced in disgust before heading for the door, wishing he could tell Choi just where he could shove this little escapade. Activating the door to leave he was brought up short by Choi's parting words.

"Be lucky, Sergeant Reynolds."

Mal paused, considering a reply. He knew the commander was trying to provoke him, but he wasn't about to give the smug bastard the satisfaction of a comeback.

Some of them Alliance boys could never let go of the war, Mal mused as he was led back through the base, and deep inside of himself, he knew he couldn't either. He knew he'd always be fighting an uphill battle against everything they represented: the squashing of a man's soul.

*Be lucky.*

The words drifted around his skull as he took the purse of money from Choi's subordinate; as he drove the mule back through the over crowded streets to the ship and handed over enough money for Kaylee and Wash to buy new fuel cells; while he instructed Zoe and Jayne to check their ammo stocks and list what might be needed for an assault on a possibly inhabited Fed moon. Over and over those two words roiled in his brain like a fever.

*You depend on luck; you end up on the drift--no fuel, no prospects. Beggin' for Alliance make-work, and towed out to the scrap belt. That ain't us. Not ever.*

He'd said those words once, meant them too, and now look where they were, where he'd taken them.

Job or no, this was not his best day ever.

/\~/\

Commander Choi and his aide, a young male lieutenant named Nichols, stood at a communications console, their limited monitors tracking known vessels entering and leaving the planet's atmosphere.

The communications room was unusually quiet. Normally operating with a staff of five, the nerve centre of the base--as with all recent Federal duties--was now functioning on little more than a skeleton crew.

Morale among the planet's company had faltered with the assumed loss on the Morfan moon, but Choi had done his best to rally his troops with the assurance that more men and supplies would arrive any day, now that they knew at least one Alliance cruiser was on its way to them.

"Commander," Nichols asked curiously. "Do you really think it's wise to let Serenity's crew leave without some sort of escort?"

"Lieutenant, you know my mind on this," Choi said stubbornly. "I'm not wasting another man on this mission, especially if...." Choi let the unfinished sentence hang in the air.

"Sir, do you really think--"

"Yes, I do."

Nichols considered his commander's statement. "If that's the case sir, why didn't you ask Drooda? Her men certainly have the firepower."

Choi shook his head dismissively at the comment, but after a moment Nichols went on more carefully. "She wouldn't be a great loss to us, sir."

"That *zhu bian xiang* can't be trusted, and if what little intelligence that comes our way is any indication, she's probably been responsible for most of the raids in this sector. We hand her this job, we'd be the laughing stock of every Alliance base from here to the Central planets.

"I'm after proof, Lieutenant," Choi continued. "Reynolds was a browncoat, but I've read his service record and his known activities since the war. He'll do the job, or die trying," he said with grudging respect. "If we can make the brass sit up and take notice of what we're up against, once and for all, there's no question we'll see more resources and a much higher Alliance presence in this part of space. But I must have the proof!"

"Commander, the Serenity isn't a gun ship. If they run into trouble, what chance would they have?"

Taking the question into consideration Choi shrugged. "They'll be an unfortunate consequence. Whatever happens to them, we'll still have a cruiser here in a few days. One way or another," he surmised, "we're going to get our proof; Reavers exist."

/\~/

"They're expecting us to bring back survivors?" Simon asked, following Mal and Zoe down from the bridge to the dining area.

"That ain't likely to happen," Zoe murmured, passing Simon to pour herself a cup of a coffee in the adjoining kitchen. Shepherd Book was already there, preparing food.

Jayne, seated at the dining table, was cleaning a selection of guns and knives that were spread out over nearly half of it. Kaylee and Inara, seated on a couch, were playing a game; River, sitting happily next to them was drawing. Simon moved to sit with them.

"They had over forty men on that moon and not a word back in over ten days. I think it's fair to say you won't be treating too many injured, Doc," Mal said, helping himself to a bowl of rice that was already sitting on the counter. Finding himself a pair of chopsticks he started to eat. "If anything," he said around a mouthful, "it's the Shepherd who'll be doing all the hard work."

"If it's my task to put those souls to rest, I will," Book concurred from the kitchen.

Mal took his bowl and sat with Jayne at the table. "Inara," he called. "I don't know how you're fixed for the next week, but I want you to take your shuttle and stay here until we get back. There's no need for you to be involved in this."

Looking up from her game, Inara answered sweetly. "That's chivalrous of you, Mal, but I do still have some business to conduct here."

"Just as well," Mal said. "It's too bad we can't pack Simon and River off with you when you go. Don't worry," he said quickly, seeing Simon's annoyed expression. "You two will have to stay put. Inara, we leave first thing tomorrow morning, so I hope that's not too early for you to be getting gone," he taunted.

"As I recall, you're the one with the morning problem, Mal."

Inara's quip had Kaylee giggling out loud and Zoe almost spitting out her coffee.

Jayne looked around at the laughing ladies and then back to Mal. "Huh, I don't get it," he said gruffly.

At that moment Wash came bounding in from the bridge. "Don't get what?" he asked joining Zoe in the kitchen when she raised a mug in his direction.

"Nothing," Mal responded uncomfortably.

Jayne turned back to Mal and jabbing his knife at him asked, "So, we go in, look around and get out?"

"Most like," he answered, digging into his chow again.

"Doesn't that seem a little too simple, Captain?" Book asked.

"The job ain't without risk. It's possible we could run into the folks that done this."

Book came over to the table and placed a salad of greens down in the centre. "If all we're expected to do is look around, surely they could have waited a few extra days and done it themselves," he said.

Simon leaned forward on the couch. "Shepherd, what are you implying?"

"Nothing, son," Book turned to answer. "Just wondering if the captain knows something he'd rather not share in our company is all," he said, looking back at Mal.

Pushing his bowl away Mal sat back in his chair, folded his arms and stretched out his legs. "You got a question, preacher, ask it."

"I'm just curious to know why the Alliance are hiring us to do this, and yet not one single marshal is coming with us."

"Preacher's got a point there, Mal," said Jayne. "The bastards would only get in our way, but you got to admit, this ain't the way they'd normally play it."

"It's my experience that when the Alliance sends a crew out cold, they either expect them not to come back, or their setting a trap of some sorts," Book went on.

Wash leaned over the counter, mug in hand. "What sort of a monastery were you in again? Because you have all sorts of knowledge on the wildest things, and they all seem to involve... dead people."

Simon got up to pace. "You think this is some sort of trap?"

Inara had stopped playing with Kaylee to listen. "I don't think so, Simon," she said confidently. "Commander Choi's outfit has been severely depleted. It's simply a question of low man power."

Book looked dubiously to Mal.

"Oh, I know," Jayne said, shaking his knife. "They figure Drooda's gang is knocking off their goods see, and they want us to take her out, right?"

"That is a possibility. Captain?" Book queried.

"I already said there might be some gun play," Mal answered irritably. "Look, we do this thing, we get a nice pay-day, we get gone. All there is too it."

Book seemed unmoved by the captain's statement. "So you figure Drooda's men wiped out over forty armed Federal Marshals?"

"They could have, her boys had some nice looking weapons," Jayne said, rubbing his hand along the barrel of a pistol.

"Holy shit! No!"

Wash's startled outburst caught everyone's attention. He was standing with Zoe behind the kitchen counter; she had her head down, turned away from them.

"*Shen me shi bu duima?*" Kaylee asked, rising out of her seat.

Wash moved closer to Zoe and gently rubbed her back. Whispering softly so that only she would hear, he said, "Baby, *duibuqi*."

Zoe put her coffee mug down and turned an apologetic gaze towards her captain. "You think Reavers attacked that moon, don't you, sir?"

The room exploded into a clamour of disbelief at Zoe's suggestion.

Jayne immediately reached for Vera, his favourite high-powered rifle, brandishing it as if they were facing an imminent attack. "Reavers! *Shenme á tamadema?* You think Reavers hit that moon?"

Inara was on her feet. "Mal, oh my God!"

Simon looked to River. "If they're still out there, we'll be...."

"There ain't no proof it's Reavers did this," Mal spat out over the uproar. "Zoe's just being her usual upbeat self about a possible situation."

"If they're attacking the Alliance now, they're even crazier than we thought--if that's possible," Wash snorted.

"I ain't going. Not if it's the gorram Reavers."

"Jayne, you want to get paid? Want to see your cut from this job?" Mal demanded gruffly.

"Sure, Mal, but Reavers--"

"Then shut up! Do your job. Or get off my boat. Now!"

Mal's challenge silenced the entire room with its stinging ferocity. "Anyone else?" he barked, his eyes wild and roving over his stunned crew.

~~/\~/\~~

Restless nights were nothing new to the crew of Serenity, and like many others they dealt with them as best they could.

Shepherd Book turned to the Bible for words of strength and comfort, and not just for himself; he was already prepared to accept his fate, should the Lord call him home, or to that other place.

Instead he shared the words of solace he found in the scriptures with Kaylee and Jayne.

Jayne, Book pondered, such a brute of a man on the surface, and yet here he was all pious and serious; head bent and hands pressed together as he fervently repeated The Lord's Prayer and psalm twenty-three on the floor of his room, like a little boy at Sunday school.

How much like frightened children they all were, Book thought. Facing the unknown with no clear indication of what might happen or where they'd end up.

For a long time the Shepherd had wondered if the Lord had a place for guns, and for men with the knowledge of them. Finding a place among them, when all he'd sought was a little peace, must have been part of the Lord's plan, part of the trust and faith that God had in him. He hoped so.

Praying aloud he called on that faith to continue to guide them all, through whatever challenges lay before them.

/\~/ Simon sat with River as she slept. He'd given his sister her final medication for the day, wondering bleakly if he'd get the chance to administer many more.

The progress he was making in understanding exactly what the Alliance had done to her was small, but every day brought its own gift, and Simon was eternally grateful for those moments of lucidity; moments when he fully recognised his beloved sister.

It couldn't end just yet, his quest for her full recovery or for the knowledge of why those sick bastards had cut into a little girl's brain. He'd sacrificed too much, come too far. He would not allow the possibility of pirates or savages living on the edge of space to come between his family and the answers he sought.

And if that meant picking up a loaded gun again, so be it.

/\~/ In the flickering candlelight of their cabin, Zoe, breathless and replete, settled her naked and slick body down upon Wash's. She kissed his flush, heaving chest and wound her arms around her mate's neck.

Wash lay beneath his wife, practically spread eagle, one hand buried in the thick dark curls of Zoe's hair as she curled and hummed against him.

Zoe had ridden him into oblivion and he was just now making his way back from the dead.

Their mutual physical need for each other this night wasn't based on the tension of the last few days, or the uncertainty of what lay ahead; it was simply how they were. How they loved.

Zoe's soldiering had taught her to abandon the promises of tomorrow and to live in the now. Wash's natural optimism and curiosity gave him a unique outlook on life that appealed to her.

It didn't matter to them that they didn't always seem to mesh on the surface, Zoe appearing dour, tough and silent, while Wash was outgoing, garrulous and witty. Yet it was these qualities that attracted the other, each unabashedly titillated and delighted by the virtues that others presumed would keep them apart.

"Zo," Wash croaked, lungs still heaving. "Promise me we'll get some time alone after this job. Head to Boros maybe, do a little sight seeing, eat real food, swim in the lakes. Or we can just haul up in a room and do this again," he suggested. "Or we can do it again now, once I get my breath back."

Brushing a thigh up against his spent erection she slurred huskily, "Boros and now sounds good. I'll ask the captain when this is all over."

"Is Mal sanctioning our love-making now?" he couldn't resist.

Zoe chuckled beside him. "You know my meaning, husband."

"Well, I certainly wouldn't be asking him at the moment, not with him in such a killing mood."

"It's hard for him, Wash," Zoe said defensively. "The decisions he has to make ain't easy."

"I know that, but does he have to take everything so personally?"

Zoe moved restlessly beside her husband, turning over and away from him. "It's his way, baby, that's how he is."

Wash shook his head and turned towards his wife's back. Curling an arm over her waist he pulled her closer to him and tucked his head against her neck and shoulder. Fighting his growing fatigue he planted a kiss to the top of Zoe's spine.

"Yeah, I guess," he murmured against her warm skin. "Hey," he said suddenly, raising his head to look over Zoe's shoulder. "I thought you were going to seduce me again?"

"Now?" she yawned.

"A pilot needs lots of sex, I told you this, remember?" Wash grumbled.

"Mmm-huh." Snuggling deeper in her pillow and pulling Wash's arm up her body to her breasts she said drowsily, "There, knock yourself out."

/\~/ Sitting alone in the dark, with only the lights of Serenity's helm console and Talos' night sky for company, Mal tensed when he heard soft footsteps behind him.

"I couldn't sleep, I hope you don't mind."

Sighing inwardly Mal swivelled around to face Inara. She stood uneasily by the bulkhead, her expression hidden in the half-light of the darkened cockpit. Her appearance at such a late hour surprised Mal, but he didn't reject her offer of company and motioned her in.

She slid into the co-pilot's chair, taking several moments to gaze up into the sky. "It's so beautiful isn't it?" she said after a while.

"Yeah," Mal replied wistfully, following her gaze.

They shared another long silence before Inara turned to him and blurted, "Don't take any unnecessary risks out there, Mal."

Turning to face her he gave the companion a sad smile. "You got us the job, Inara."

"I know," she said guiltily, "but I never thought it would turn out like this."

"Like what?" he probed gently, his earlier anger gone, if not his haunted appearance.

"You, you're... so tense," she offered haltingly. "I've never seen you so angry as you were tonight."

"Well, I'm likely to get all crotchety when the Alliance are involved," he joked weakly.

"So I've noticed," she smiled.

Mal couldn't take his eyes off that smile; Inara's whole face had relaxed with it. He continued to stare at her until she turned away to look at the stars again. "How come you can't sleep?" he asked softly, disturbed by how much she affected him with only her presence, her delicate smile.

"Worried, I suppose." Her voice was as equally quiet, though she didn't look at him when she answered.

"We're a good crew, we'll be all right," he said, trying to reassure her.

"Of course," Inara responded, turning just then to smile gently at him, this one more cautious than the last, dark hair falling slightly over her face.

He really did want to understand her, this graceful woman who carried herself with a regal air, but who chose to spread to her legs for strangers and call it business.

"You'll be okay while we're gone?" he asked more firmly, attempting to bury his thoughts. He didn't have the right to judge her, though he often did with his hurtful tongue--just as she'd often called his own way of life into question.

"Yes, I've... I have business," she said carefully before standing. "I... I guess I just wanted to say be careful--all of you."

He wanted to know what would she'd be like, stripped of all her Academy artifice, training and trappings. "We will."

Moving towards Mal so that they were almost within touching distance, Inara hesitated. As she swayed Mal couldn't help but lean forward slightly in his chair, catching the scent of the delicate fragrance she wore in his nostrils. He couldn't quell the irrational hope that she'd move closer to him and say something, reach out to him somehow--

"Good night, Mal," she said, backing away from him.

Consciously realising his desires Mal sat back stiffly, unable to reply.

He wanted to touch her and taste her, everywhere.

Swinging himself away from her abruptly, Mal sat dumbstruck, barely hearing Inara's retreating footfalls.

Alone in the silence and the semi dark, Mal closed his eyes and willed his frantically beating heart back down to its normal rate, confused as to why he'd been hit so hard when he knew his attraction to Inara had been there all along.

~~/\~/\~~