Read: Head Trauma, Focus on the Fine Qualities of Dinosaurs, Translation, All Kinds of Brilliant

Mal had done his share of time in the infirmary, watching over River as her concussion subsided and her wounds healed. The shot that had skimmed past Jayne’s arm to strike her head had barely impacted, but the tiny fracture had nearly resulted in a fatal subdural haematoma. Only the doc’s quick work had alleviated the pressure on her brain, and she had recovered quickly. Two days after her rescue, she was sitting up in the infirmary, bright eyes trained on anyone who walked by, and three days after that, she was up and about herself. Knowing how much she hated the infirmary, Kaylee and Inara had done what they could to make it look less clinical. With Simon’s go-ahead, Kaylee had taped paper over the cold blue lights, giving the room an amber glow, and Inara had brought in pillows and scarves from her shuttle. The tiny room felt much cozier, but River was still glad to be out. She was walking from the passenger dorms to the cargo bay, following the sound of Zoe and Jayne’s laughter, when Mal appeared in the hatch. “Gods, mei mei, but it is good to have you back.” Mal looped an arm around her thin shoulders and drew her in to kiss the top of her head. “Not your mei mei.”He frowned down at her. “She is.” River jerked a shoulder towards the couch in the passenger lounge, where Kaylee was cooing and petting an exhausted Simon. “Can’t a man have more than one?” He grinned. “Nope.” He looked hurt, and she smiled, reaching up to pat his cheek. “You’ve got to keep sisters safe. Me? I keep my own self safe.” “Didn’t do so well at that this week, l’il Albatross.” She smiled again, to show him that the name was satisfactory, but then scowled. “Indeed. That was unacceptable. Must recommence physical training.” She leaned against him again, just for a moment, then bounded away. “But first, food!” “Anyone but me think it’s wrong that a ninety-pound girl is complainin’ about not being able to take out eight men?” Mal addressed the ceiling of the cargo bay, but Zoe answered. “Not as such, Sir.” He turned to see her grinning at him. “Is every woman on my boat feng le?” “I’m sure there’s nothing wrong with Inara, Sir.” Mal threw his hands up and commenced climbing to the kitchen, Zoe chuckling behind him. ))) Zoe and Mal were leaning on the railing to the catwalk, watching the crew putter in the cargo bay below. Jayne was working with his weights, Kaylee was perched on a crate with Simon standing patiently between her legs, letting her play with his hair while she giggled to Inara, sitting next to her, and River… River was dancing. She had downloaded some classical ditty off the Cortex, and Kaylee had rigged an override to the comm system so the music could spill all throughout the ship. River held her body tight as she turned and dipped and weaved, sweat beading on her skin and her hair swaying counterpoint to her body. With her eyes closed, she looked almost like the little girl she had been, moving to the music. Something about her, though, spoke of the predator, and her deadly grace brought to mind memories of The Maidenhead and the brutal ballet she had performed. “She’s something, ain’t she?” Mal murmured as she sprang nimbly back from an imaginary attacker. “That may be the most resilient girl I’ve ever known.” “That she is, sir.” Zoe paused, looking at him from the corner of her eye. When he grunted a question, she continued. “If she’s going on the job with us, shouldn’t we give her a gun?” Mal turned his back to the bay and leaned against the railing, smiling at Zoe. “Already offered. Apparently she took my words a little too much to heart, parroted my own ‘no touching guns’ right back at me.” He shook his head and his smile faded. “I just hope she’ll use ‘em if she needs ‘em.” “Don’t worry, cap’n. The tools are to hand and the hands are the tools.” “Tian xiao de! Nearly gave me a gorram heart attack!” Mal mimed clutching at his chest, staggering away from the pilot who had appeared at his elbow. River giggled and Zoe chuckled, her eyes twinkling. Of course. Damn fool woman had seen River coming, didn’t warn him. He scowled at them both and stomped down to harass Inara. ))) After a run of smooth jobs and smoother flying, Mal had almost forgotten the thrill and surge he got when a job went south. Running a shipment of imprinted data crystals to a fringe world, they were intercepted by an Alliance-patroller gone rogue in the wake of the Miranda Accords, which limited government interference on newly settled worlds and opened a subset of the Parliamentary files to specialist review. With members of Parliament, councilors, and planetary governors resigning every which way, a few crewed ships had taken advantage of the disruption to turn pirate. River had picked up on their tail halfway through the week long flight, a spiraling point of space debris that finally got a little too close and fell victim to Serenity’s souped-up long-range scanners. “Captain, Zoe. To the bridge.” She cut off the comm and started dredging data from the Cortex. The ship’s model was new enough that she wasn’t familiar with the design modifications, though she knew the basic design. Quick and small, with double gun-mounts just behind bridge extension, the ship was based on the GX-9, a basic cruise-and-warn patrol boat. The ship was designed to carry thirty men trained to come to the aid of fringe planets or ships in trouble. By the time she started running plot variations through the tactics program on the navigational computer, half of the crew was ranged on the deck behind her. “What’ve we got, Albatross?” After she had thrown Jayne against the bulkhead during one of her “dances,” Mal had started leaving off the “li’l.” “Patroller, probably rogue. There’s no standard patrol here, not much traffic between Persephone and Arabesque, and there’s no other reason to take this route. Must’ve been following us for a bit, and it hasn’t hailed us, so I’m thinking pirates.” While she talked, her fingers continued to dance across the touchscreen, bringing up charts and tables. “Can we outrun her?” Mal gripped the back of her chair and leaned over her shoulder, peering at the ship’s image in the scanner’s display. “Doubtful, but we’ll try. If it is Alliance, we’re not guilty of fleeing until they order a halt.” She was running figures again, brows drawn in concentration. “If you can get us close to something with a shipyard, I can get us power-and-a-half for fifteen, twenty hours.” Kaylee came around River’s other side, looking at the starchart on one of the screens. “That do any good?” “You can?” Mal was staring at Kaylee, mouth open. “And you never said?” Kaylee beamed up at him. “It’s the new router I put in when we got put back together. Alliance was paying the bill, so I slipped it in nice and neat. It’ll blow out the subsidiary thruster after a while, but we’ll still have power and control enough to land somewhere, if we’re close.” “That’s perfect.” River turned and grinned at Kaylee. “It is?” Jayne asked from the doorway. “What’s the plan, moonbrain?” River rolled her eyes and answered. “We run steady. If they follow us all the way to Arabesque, there’s no traffic control and they can just come in and shoot us. If they start after us in earnest – assuming they hold off for at least six hours – we can run at full for this moon,” she tapped a small spinning sphere on the chart, “and if we burn hot then we’ll get there before they do, and can face them on the planet. Better a standoff on ground than in space, no? And if we land and they’re just travelling, they’ll blow on by.” She looked up at Mal for approval, and he absently patted her on the shoulder, still looking at the graphics on the screen. “What happens if they come after us before the six hours are up?” “We hope that Kaylee’s router holds us.” “What moon is it, sir?” Zoe asked, cut off from the console by Kaylee. “Don’t rightly know.” He frowned. “Anyone here heard of Whitman’s Landing?” The crew all shook their heads, but River had already searched the Cortex for information. “It’s a private moon, fully terraformed, with a public-access dockyard. Must get a lot of visitors, I guess.” She tapped a code, and a new screen came up. “Get Inara, please?” Mal just looked at her, but Zoe turned and left. “What’s moonbrain doin’ planning our getaway?” Jayne grumbled from the door. When he was met with assorted silences and glares, he subsided. “Just askin’.” Zoe returned, Inara and Simon in tow. “They were in the kitchen,” she replied to Mal’s inquisitive eyebrow. Inara looked down her nose at Mal, smirked at his discomfort, and turned to River. “You wanted something?” “We’re diverting to this moon, here.” She tapped again at the screen. “Whitman’s Landing. I did a search and got a hit from a society column; apparently there’s some sort of upcoming gala. I was wondering if you could finagle an invitation, get us some credibility?” “How long do I have?” Inara was looking over her shoulder at the news column, frowning speculatively. “Day-and-a-half, possibly two.” “I can work with that.” She draped an arm around River’s shoulders and gave her a quick squeeze. “Forward the information to my shuttle, and I’ll see what I can do.” She swept out. Simon was standing to one side, eyes fixed on his sister, a smile playing about his mouth. “Simon.” Mal stepped in front of him. “Yes, Captain?” “That sister of your’n is a mighty fine pilot, and she just might have the makin’s of a mastermind like yourself.” He grinned. “But of course.” Simon nodded in response, and moved to stand behind River’s chair. She bent up and forward in her chair, fingers spidering across the key grid as she finalized their course, but she reached back with one hand and waggled her fingers. He just watched her for a moment, but she turned around and gave him her “are you slow on the uptake?” look and waggled her fingers again, so he took her hand and settled to the ground beside the chair, watching his baby sister plan a daring escape from evil space pirates. “Just like we played.” She grinned back over her shoulder at him, and he laughed. In their children’s games, they had always been Alliance, but he thought that this might be better. “Is. Plus, dinosaurs!” She took her hand off the keys long enough to point at the T-rex leering down at him from its perch on the console. “Mei mei,” he sighed. “It’s not fair. Nobody else has a sister who can read their mind.” “Just focus on the fine qualities of the dinosaurs.” He grinned and subsided. Eventually, she too sank back into her chair, and they held hands and watched the stars spin past. ))) “If they just wanted us dead, they would have grappled with and shot us down in space!” River was arguing with the captain, her face flushed. Inara had left for the gala, Simon on her arm, and Mal was readying himself for an old-fashioned showdown with the crew of Clytemnestra, the patrol boat that had followed them down to Whitman’s Landing. They’d settled down nice and easy – hadn’t even had to burn hot, which had been quite the disappointment for Kaylee – but not ten hours later the Clytemnestra had settled just as easy beside them. “Can’t see any good reason to chase a man half-way ‘cross the system without tryin’ to hail him.” He was buckling on his gun belt when Jayne came down to the cargo bay, his vest strapped with grenades and ammo clips, Vera over his shoulder and the rest of his walking armory on his belt. “They landed at the next dock! There’re anti-aircraft satellites, domestic-force patrols, people everywhere! Zhen mei nai xing de fo zu, at least let me go with you.” She gritted his teeth when he dared to patronize her. “Well, li’l Albatross, can’t rightly be riskin’ my pilot, can I?” He smirked at Jayne, who simply looked back, steady. He knew what River could do, and didn’t mind the thought of her fighting beside him if things got rough. River hissed out a long breath and then, with patience to make a Companion proud, replied, “You can fly the ship as well as I can, Mal. But Serenity won’t survive without her captain.” “You that worried?” “I’m that worried.” “Then best saddle up.” He turned away and hit the comm. “Zoe. We’re gone. River’s coming, so take good care of my ship.” “I’m throwin’ a party as soon as you hit dirt, sir.” Mal chuckled and signed off, then hit the buttons to lower the cargo bay ramp. Once outside, Mal stopped to suck in a deep breath of unrecycled air. He’d been out earlier, resupplying, but the planet just smelled good. He turned to see if either of his companions had noticed his momentary lapse, and had to smile when he saw them both with their eyes closed and their noses stuck up in the air. He took a moment to assess River, whose wrists still bore the ropy red scars from her captivity. The slice on her throat had healed up just fine, but the gouge above her eye still had stitches, from when Simon had to open it back up and release the infection that had somehow made it past his precautions and into the wound. Otherwise, though, she looked healthy. Healthier than he’d ever seen her, with a bit of flesh over the long thin muscles of her arms, and color in her pale skin. Her eyes were on him now, and she was smiling at his thoughts. Just to be ornery, he added silly little stick-figure looks funny in boots and that girlie dress, anyhow. Who’s gonna be scared of that? “Isn’t that the point?” She laughed up at him, and Jayne broke off his reverie with a confused grunt. “Let’s go, Albatross.” He hitched his gunbelt to sit more comfortably on his hips, and strode off towards the Clytemnestra, whose ramp was already extending to meet them. They were met at the end of the ramp by two hard-looking men in dark uniforms, their hair buzzed tight to their skulls. Behind them, in the dark of the ship’s belly, River could see other, less reputable looking folks. “Captain Reynolds?” “That’d be me.” The other man grunted. “Fancy explainin’ who you are and why you were chasin’ my ship?” He cocked his hip and looped a finger in his belt, but River could feel the anger coming off of him at their temerity. “I am Captain Tam.” Jayne jolted and Mal rocked on his heels, but River just stared at him. “That so? And what, Captain Tam, do you want with my fine vessel?” River heard him, deciding that yes, the man did look a bit like Simon, and maybe… She turned her attention to the other captain instead. “It’s not your fine vessel that is of interest, Captain Reynolds. It is your cargo.” River caught him in the lie, and probed past it to find… damn! Didn’t give a hou zi de pi gu about the cargo, was just trying to make a name for himself, besting the man who didn’t fear to take on the entire Alliance. River rocked back on her heels. The man hadn’t paid her any attention as yet, so she didn’t notice when her expression changed, grew limp and dazed. “Doctor cum Captain with the feds on his tail?” She giggled. “Bitty Bad wants to make the ‘verse pay heed.” “What the hell are you on about, girl?” All four men turned to her with surprise writ large on their features, but one look at her face and both Mal and Jayne were convinced that she was playing the pirates. They had spent enough time with her when she truly was crazy to recognize the signs. River lipped at the hair that blew into her mouth and giggled again. “Silly Captain my Captain, dontcha know that Simon Tam is deadly? Stole his sister and ran, and the Alliance came tumbling after.” Suddenly Mal issued a sharp bark of laughter, understanding her. “So you’re the dark and dangerous Doctor Simon Tam, eh? Don’t look like much.” He looked the other man over from head to toe, then shrugged dismissively. “What do you think, Jayne. He meet up with the hype?” Jayne caught on, and answered. “All that trouble, I thought he’d be bigger. Hell, he ain’t much more than the girlie here.” He nodded towards River, who grinned sappily at him. “It’s Captain Tam, now, thank you, and I’ll be taking your cargo. You and your wang ba dan merc and the little girl certainly won’t be able to stop me.” At some unseen signal, six more men moved from the shadows to flank the two already on the ramp. These were the dirty, brutish thugs River had noticed skulking within the belly of the ship, and they didn’t particularly bother her. The big guns they all wore on shoulder straps, unmodified Callahans like stripped-down versions of Jayne’s Vera, did. “And what do I receive in exchange, Captain Tam?” Still outwardly cocky, Mal stared up at the other man. “Why, your life, Captain Reynolds. And the pleasure of having done business with one of the foremost criminal masterminds in the ‘verse.” At that, Jayne choked. River and Mal both spun and glared at him, but he couldn’t help himself, he just kept on laughing. “Bi zui!” Mal roared, but it was too late. “Shoot him,” the fake Simon Tam demanded, coolly. One of the thugs raised his gun, but not before Mal drew and shot it out of his hand, taking a good chunk of the hand with it. River drew herself up and vaulted over the shoulder of one of the front men, landing easily amidst the six bruisers. She darted punches left and right, but spent most of her energy dancing out of the way of her blows. Bottled up at the top of the ramp, the big men had little mobility and kept tangling with one another. Two dropped, leaving her with four more and enough breathing room to check on Mal and Jayne. They had subdued the ship’s captain and were firing upon the men around her, but were having trouble finding shots that were guaranteed to miss her. She dropped to the floor and spun one leg out high, catching one of the men behind the knees. He buckled forward, and his gun flew up to hit another in the face. The fight looked laughably easy at this point, but she could hear the thundering tread of reinforcements through the metal of the ship. Quick and deadly, she snapped one of the remaining two necks, and Jayne brought Vera to bear on the other. “Run,” he hissed, and the man turned tail and dashed back into the ship. Mal had just enough time to get the shaking prisoner to his feet before the rest of the men arrived. “Captain!” River whispered, pulling the three men behind one of the ship’s support struts. “Let me.” He nodded, and turned the man over to River’s keeping. His hands were bound behind his back, and his eyes bulged with fear, but he was still dangerous, so she watched his thoughts carefully until she had him where she wanted him, just in front of him and before the mass of armed men that manned the patrol boat. “This here your captain?” She asked, affecting a twang much like Mal’s. In the shadow of the ship, Jayne smirked and Mal grimaced. “Silly boy done gone and got himself in trouble. Not what you’d be expectin’ from one of those high-polish Core-boys, is it?” The men were confused; how had the tiny girl, dwarfed by the captain, managed to incapacitate him? And what in the ‘verse was she talking about? “This is decidedly not Simon Tam.” The affected accent was gone, and what was left was the cut-crystal tones of a high-society debutante. The man she held bound stiffened. “Clytemnestra was subject to mutiny three standard months ago. Of the three ten-man patrols onboard, one survived the fight almost intact. Corporal Simon Eliot was one of those survivors, and soon after he was the only one.” She shoved Simon Eliot forward, suddenly, disgusted with the feel of him on her hands. He stumbled and fell to the deck. “After landing on Whitefall, he slaughtered the remaining members of his patrol.” She smiled, cool and aloof and absolutely terrifying. “And then he hired you.” She gestured at herself. “I captain a mid-bulk firefly-class transport; I inherited it recently when the previous captain perished in revealing the secrets of Miranda. That man,” she pointed at Simon Eliot, “thought to challenge me for what is mine. To give worth to his stolen name by plundering the possessions of one of the greatest heroes of the ‘verse. And you would follow him?” She read them, the fear and the anger in their minds, the confusion. They were still staring at her, but she made little impression on their minds. They were all focused on their captain, who had led them into a lie. River Tam turned on her heel and walked away. ))) “We got us a crate o’ whiskey. The fancy kind, what’s not spelt with an “e”.” “That we do.” Mal and Jayne were sitting at the table in the mess. River, Zoe and Kaylee were chatting in the engine room, but the two men didn’t feel up to much in the way of socialization. “I reckon I’d like some, right about now.” “Would you rather the whiskey or the money we could make with it?” Mal arched an eyebrow in question, unsure of his own take on the matter. “Mal, I just watched little crazy just talk twenty men out of killin’ us and stealing our cargo. I want the gorram whiskey!”

))))) if you liked it, check out the next story. Read: Head Trauma, Focus on the Fine Qualities of Dinosaurs, Translation, All Kinds of Brilliant