Not mine, and I promise not to break them. Much.

****

By the time the dockmaster’s shuttle arrived, the cargo hold and its contents were ready for inspection. Every horse’s coat gleamed; the bedding was clean and raked into elegant windrows; the tack boxes squared away. Mal had even put on a clean shirt.

The dockmaster entered the cargo bay first, nodding pleasantly to Mal and taking his proffered hand in a firm grip. He was followed by a woman who looked to be in her late twenties. She was slightly above average height, with a lanky build and thin, square shoulders. She was wearing black riding pants tucked into high boots almost as creased and battered as Mal’s own, although with a better polish job; a crisp white shirt was tucked into the pants. Smooth oval face, straight high nose, complexion the pale ivory-tan of a bantam hen egg, dark eyes with dark lashes and brows. Her sandy red hair was drawn straight back from her face into a waist-length braid nearly as big around as a man’s wrist. The braid was twitching behind her as she strode into the cargo bay.

She took a quick look at the horses standing patiently in their stalls.

“Well, they don’t look as bad as I had feared.” Turning to Mal, she thrust her hand out to him, and he took it bemusedly. He was a little surprised to find it as calloused as his own. “Captain Reynolds. So what’s your story? My father said you left Persephone well over three weeks ago, for a trip that shouldn’t have taken more than twelve or fourteen days. You’re late, Captain Reynolds.”

“Miss Warrick – I think I can explain our tardiness to your satisfaction. We had some equipment do us wrong,” Mal saw no need to go into the specifics of whose equipment had done the wrong-doing, “and we had to set down for more’n a week to deal with it. While we were down, we unloaded the horses and kept them exercised and sheltered. I’m here to tell you they took no hurt durin’ the delay.”

“Who exercised them, might I ask?”

“I did, ma’am.”

“You did?”

“I was raised doing ranch work, ma’am. I’m competent,” Mal’s patience, never a deep well, was nearly dried up.

A level look was Miss Warrick’s only reply.

She walked off, following Aldershot as he walked past each horse. She looked in their mouths and ears and eyes, checked under tails for signs of intestinal upset, flexed their feet and felt their legs. She returned to Mal and stood looking him up and down, much as she had just inspected her horses. He half-expected her to ask him to flex his joints and exhibit any scars. He was fairly certain he wouldn’t pass the vet check.

“They look very good. Thank you. Now, how about the truth about that delay?”

“What makes you think I haven’t already told you the truth?” Mal asked.

“Captain Reynolds, your reputation precedes you. Daddy tells me that you draw trouble like a ripe pear draws wasps. He also told me that you had a little run-in with Mr. Atherton Wing several months ago. When I waved him to say that you were late, he told me he had had a somewhat disturbing conversation with Wing very soon after your departure. It’s my suspicion that your delay is not unconnected with Wing.” Miss Warrick raised one dark eyebrow at Mal.

“And what if it was? I brought your animals in safe and sound, I’ll take ‘em wherever you want ‘em delivered, I’ve apologized for the delay and if you need a refund on account of it, we can do that.” The corners of Mal’s mouth were tucked in tight, and the lines around his eyes were deepening with every moment.

“Don’t be stupid. I’m not asking for a refund – and I doubt whoever does the books on this boat would be happy if you provided me with one. No, what I’m interested in – do we have to have this conversation standing up in the cargo bay? Isn’t there somewhere less public?” Miss Warrick looked around, quirking her eyebrow at River and Kaylee leaning over the catwalk, Jayne lurking in the corner, Zoe standing watchful.

“We don’t have a parlor, Miss Warrick, this is a transport ship.”

“Doesn’t the captain have some, something?”

“We have a second shuttle. It’s not a parlor, but it does have a door. Although it’s still a little opaque to me why we need to even have this conversation. Follow me.” Mal turned and led the way.

Once they had reached the shuttle Mal opened the door and gestured for the woman to enter ahead of him. She walked in and stood waiting for Mal to follow and close the door.

“Now, Captain Reynolds, I’ll come clean with you. I’m wondering whether dear Atherton took the opportunity to do both of us the dirty in one neat little package. There’s no love lost between us and I understand from Daddy that there’s even less lost between Wing and you. So what happened? Did something really break or were you sabotaged?” Miss Warrick stood leaning against the shuttle bulkhead, watching Mal from under raised eyebrows.

“Miss Warrick –“

“Wodema, call me Isabel. No one has called me Miss Warrick since I fled Persephone.”

“Miss, Isabel –“ Mal wasn’t at all sure how to answer the question.

“Just tell the truth, please.”

“Yes. We were sabotaged by Wing. But I don’t think it had anything to do with whatever your quarrel with him is – and I don’t need to know those particulars, neither.”

“Good. Because I’m not providing them. What did Wing do?”

“Near killed my first mate. He poisoned the water and the air on Serenity with some kind of toxic mold. Fortunately the plan didn’t work the way I think it was supposed to and we were able to land and get the horses off before they got sick. We’re fine now,” Mal answered.

“It’s not like Atherton to let you die out of his sight. He has always struck me as something of a voyeur.”

“As I understand it, we weren’t supposed to die, just be sick enough when we land to not put up a fight. I think kidnapping is the plan. I’m expecting visitors pretty quick after we set down.”

“That sounds like the Atherton Wing we know and love. How did you figure all this out? – not that I don’t think you’re capable of it,” Isabel said.

“Thank you,” Mal nodded sideways at her. “The boy Wing put on the boat to spread that gou se got sick; when he was able to talk, he did. So, this brings us up to now and now is when you need to go on back down to Edgarton or back to the ranch or wherever you want to go for the next few days. When we’ve said hello and goodbye to Wing’s welcoming committee, we’ll bring your horses on out to you.” Mal opened the shuttle door and gestured her out.

Isabel stayed leaning against the bulkhead.

“Do I understand that you’re planning to keep my horses until after you’ve dealt with Wing’s bullies?”

“Yes, ma’am. That’s the plan – if I unload first I think it likely that they may depart without my having a chance to greet them.”

“Well, that would be a shame,” Isabel said. “But what if I don’t want to leave my horses with you? They might get damaged. I would feel better if I were there with them.”

“Miss Warrick, you need to get off my boat. I’m not taking you into what might be even a little danger. Those horses’ll be fine for another day or so – as I understand it, under normal circumstances you wouldn’t even have been notified that we’d landed until tomorrow. I don’t think we’re allowed to unload for 24 hours after inspection – you need to go until I can bring ‘em out to you. I’m sure the dockmaster’s finished here and you can ride right back down with him.” Mal gestured toward the door, again.

“So how are you planning to snare these bad men?” Isabel asked conversationally. “I don’t have any personal experience, and one always likes to learn new things.”

Mal massaged the bridge of his nose with his hand.

“Miss Warrick –“

“Isabel, please.”

“Miss, I don’t know how to make this any clearer. You need to get off my boat. Now. Let’s go.” Mal gestured again.

“Captain Reynolds -- may I call you Malcolm? –“

“— you may not.”

“Oh, all right. There’s no reason for you to know this, but I’m actually quite a good shot. I’m not at all nervous or sensitive –“

“ – that I got.”

“ – and I think I might be of some use.”

“I’m just pleased as can be that you’re a fine shot, but you’re not practicin’ on my boat. I understand that excitement is thin on the ground on places like Halcion but I’m not here to provide you with an adventure. You c’n get your excitement ridin’ horses fast at fixed objects – not by mixin’ it up with bad men on my boat. Go, please.”

Seeing that Mal was implacable, Isabel shrugged and started out the door. “But if your mate’s been sick, are you sure that you don’t need another gun?” she asked, hesistating in the doorway.

“Miss Warrick,” Mal sighed through his nose.

“Yes, Captain.”

Back in the cargo bay, Aldershot was waiting with Mal’s landing papers.

“They look wonderful, Captain. You need to wait 24 hours in slip 19; I’ll be by first thing day after tomorrow and as long as no one has developed symptoms of anything by that time, you’ll be free to make your delivery.” Aldershot held out his hand and Mal shook it.

“Thank you, sir,” Mal said.

“My pleasure. See you day after tomorrow. I sent the coordinates of the slip up to your pilot. It’s a nice spot, not crowded in.” Aldershot nodded at Mal again. “Miss Warrick, are we ready?”

“I suppose I am. Captain Reynolds, I’ll be in touch.”

“I’m sure you will.” Mal nodded resignedly.

*End of part 14*