Letters to Home

by Mike Smithwick Adapted with permission from the Virtual Firefly script by Thomas Cohn and DC Washington

www.stillflying.net

(note: the software on this site doesn't preserve the original formatting of the text. You might want to read the story on Fanfiction.net, which keeps the formatting and so is a bit easier to read.)

Chapter 1

Even as the elegant couple whirled among the many guests of Persephone’s annual ball, they were alone and quite content to just be with each other during this most dignified of events.

“I’m trying to give you something. A life. If you want it,” Atherton Wing whispered in the ear of his stylish partner. “You can live here,” he offered, dropping his disarming voice even more. “As my personal companion.”

The chamber orchestra changed tempo slightly, and the couples instinctively changed to match.

“Atherton, you are a generous man.” Inara replied, smiling gently, even slightly embarrassed at the proposition.

They glided by the mountains of the freshest and most expensive fruit, ignoring the young women in the corner and the gossip they must be sharing.

“That’s not a ‘yes’…”

Inara paused. “But…you see…I couldn’t leave Serenity, or my captain.”

Her partner came to a sudden stop, causing a near collision on the dance floor from the other couples. Wing was shocked, for no one ever refused his requests. They couldn’t. In fact, they shouldn’t.

“You belong here, Inara, not on the flying piece of gho-se with that stupid captain of yours,” he protested.

“I said ‘no,’ Atherton. I’m sorry”

Changing from charming gentleman to demanding ruffian in an instant, he grabbed Inara by the arm and dragged her off the dance floor. The gossips in the corner couldn’t help but flutter over the sight, eagerly trying to capture any phrase, word or mere syllable so as to fill their bottomless cisterns of scandalous knowledge. Cisterns that would no doubt be empted time and time again over the following years.

He never saw the punch coming, the one that knocked him flat on the floor and halfway across the room.

Jayne towered above the crumpled form of Inara’s suitor. “I believe the lady said no, sha gua,” he said, his voice booming out across the room for all to hear. Flutter flutter went the gossips.

The music came to a quick stop as the musicians joined the guests in their collective shock. How dare someone disrupt the event of the year with such a crude exhibition!

“Oh, Captain!” Inara gasped, fleeing to the safety of Jayne’s inviting arms. She was worried, yes, but pleased nonetheless that Captain Cobb had come to her rescue just in time.

“The hwoon dahn deserved it,” Jayne said in a firm and manly tone that told all who was in control.

Atherton slowly picked himself up stroking his swollen jaw, and straightened his jeweled satin sherwani. “I accept!” he said, slow and deliberate, standing upright.

“There has been a challenge!” broadcast a nearby steward.

Flutter. Flutter.

A sly grin graced Wing’s youthful face. “I hope you’re prepared Captain.”

“What the ruttin’ hell for?”

Atherton took off his cloak and handed it to a nervous young man who was standing near by. He stretched out his arms, in keen anticipation of something. But what?

“A duel has been called. Honor must be satisfied,” the steward proclaimed. The crowd retreated towards the corners of the room, with a mixture of horror and amusement. Horror at these earthy events that had invaded their civilized worlds, amused at the realization that this will be a ball spoken of for ages. And they could boast for years to come that they were there.

“Honor? That boy got less honor than a slaver. Least they’re honest ‘bout what they are.” Jayne said, still a bit mystified over the turn of events.

Atherton rushed towards Jayne, a long saber leading the way, barely missing the hulking captain.

“What the…?” was all Jayne could say.

Inara reached up and grabbed a sword mounted nearby on the wall, tossing it to Jayne. “Here, my brave Captain!”

Jayne caught it in mid-air and managed to deflect Atherton’s next attack. Wing charged yet again, and again. Jayne was now on the defense but was still able to send his attacker crashing into the pyramid of mangoes. While Wing was unbalanced, Jayne charged forward and took a swing of his own at his foe. He missed, giving Atherton an opening of his own to slice into Jayne’s side.

“Hey! That’s my best shirt, gorramit!” Jayne cried out looking down at the blood spreading across his side. Now with his anger rising, he rushed Atherton who was still covered in melons and strawberries and began to swing his blade wildly like a mad man just loosed from prison. The crowd collectively gasped, as they witnessed a raw and pure fencing talent unlike any seen before on this or any nearby moons.

However, a lucky kick from Atherton sent him up against a pillar, stunning the captain momentarily. Knowing he finally had the upper hand Wing raised his sword for a final and decisive blow to secure his reputation as Persephone’s most feared swordsman. But instead he suddenly found himself gasping for air, as Jayne head butted him out towards the center of the room. Atherton fell, hearing his sword clatter loudly against the marble floor and scooting just out of his reach. Momentarily stunned, he felt Jayne’s mighty boot slam down on his chest, pinning him to the floor.

There was silence around the room. Even among the gossips.

“You have to finish it lad. For a man to lie beaten and yet breathing, it makes him a coward,” the steward said.

“It is a humiliation,” Inara added.

Glaring down on his foe, Jayne said for all the room to hear, “Sure. It would be humiliating, having to lie there while the better man refuses to slice you open and spill your bloody guts all over this purty dance floor. But mercy is the mark of a great man…Which is what I am.”

With that, Jayne lifted his boot off of Atherton, stepped back as the crowd broke into a rapturous applause. In gratitude, Inara took his sword from him, and gave him such a kiss it made all the men in the audience envious and the women take notes.

“Oh, Jayne, take me, I am yours! Jayne…”

“Jayne? Hey! You ugly ox!” shouted Wash. He snapped his fingers into Jayne’s face.

“Not now!” the gunman mumbled. He swatted Wash away with his favorite orange hat. “I’m busy!”

<“…then we left Persephone after rescuing Inara and headed to our next job. I had noticed that some of our crew, mainly my cabin boy, Mal, had become pretty….”>

“Hey big boy, it’s finally time to get these stinking fish off the ship…” Wash paused and noticed the pile of papers scattered across the dinner table like so many freshly fallen leaves.

“You? You’re writing? It’s like watching a monkey ride a bicycle, only much less likely.”

<…distracted of late. It is kind of a common prob…>

“Dirty letter to that ‘special’ lady?”

Jayne kept his head down low, trying to ignore the mockery.

<…lem in space, but like I always say…>

Wash started to read over Jayne’s left shoulder. He knew it was not the wisest position to remain for too long. “Dirty letter to that ‘special’ guy?”

<…if you can’t hack it out in the black, don’t pick your feet up from the…dirt>

“Listen, if it’s a dirty letter you want, I know how to spell a lot of those ‘special’ words...”

“Gorramit Wash. What I want is for you to shut up that yapper of yours!”

“Mind if I stand here looking just a bit smug?”

Jayne slowly stood up so as to remind his heckler who retained the greater body mass.

“And mind if I take that ugly-assed shirt of yours and stuff it down…”

Just than Kaylee poked her head in from the hallway, saving Wash from providing Zoe with yet another humorous story to tell. “Cap’n says to come on! Jorgensen wants to get us unloaded, then he’s gonna have us for dinner! Uh…give us dinner.”

“Oh! Free food!” Jayne shouted with glee as he swept up his papers.

Wash glanced up at Kaylee and silently clasped his hands together and mouthed “Thank-you.”

Chapter 2

In a verse overflowing with eccentrics, Neils Jorgensen certainly reigned as a minor deity. Short and squat, looking like five pounds of rice in a two pound bag, he loved his cigars, satiny smoking jackets and wouldn’t be seen without his favorite sailor’s cap. His moon, not surprisingly named “Jorgensen’s moon,” was left alone by the Alliance during their terraforming sweep of that part of the ‘Verse as too small and resource-free to be of any use. Jorgensen bought it at a government auction, and created his own terraforming company that now customized moons for other well heeled clients, while making his own private paradise. At least, that is, on a small part of the globe, as the rest was as barren and empty as a reaver’s gaze.

Still, for his odd interests, he was known as a good soul. Honest in dealings with folk of most levels, good natured, even known to remember the birthdays of all the kids of all of his employees. Strangely enough he was also known to Fanty and Mingo, who recommended the crew of Serenity. They answered his call when he was looking for someone who knew their way around Alliance checkpoints without raising any unnecessary interest.

The crew had to literally compete in a tough race for his favor with other teams from across the region. But he paid well, was mostly legal in his dealings, and didn’t much care for danger of any sort. It was the dream gig that Mal had longed for, for years.

Jorgensen’s love of sea food was clearly evident in this, their first job for him.

Zoe examined the crates in the cargo bay. “At last, a legal job with all of the aromatic qualities of dead fish.”

“Maybe because they are dead fish, honey-poo,” Wash quickly pointed out.

“I think we should go back to petty thievin’ dear. It smells better.”

Kaylee and Simon started to drag one scented crate towards the ramp. “I suppose out here, fish are a rare commodity,” Simon stated. He tried hard to look dignified when breathing through his mouth.

“Not rare enough,” Zoe added.

River popped up from the shadows behind another crate, sniffing down along the edge. “Fresh. Likes them still swimming.”

“Don’t think these guys are, uh, ‘swimming’” said Wash. “I miss those treasured days gone by when my spaceship actually smelled like…spaceship.”

“Smells like money to me,” Jayne added secretly slipping a small fish into Wash’s pocket as he walked passed.

Mal and Jorgensen stood at the base of the ramp, gazing at the busy action upwind from them. Jorgensen, looking even more rotund then previously, patted Mal on the head as if he were a trained puppy having learned a new trick. “You’re a peach Mal. A real one-of-a-kind runner. A bonus to you and yours for getting my yummies so quickly. But take it from me, money doesn’t hold all of the answers my friend.” He motioned out towards the crew. “People…people are what makes one happy.”

Jorgensen pulled the cigar out of his mouth while accidentally flicking a few ashes on Mal’s boots.

“I heard ‘money.’ We talkin’ ‘bout fees?” Jayne asked.

Mal rolled his eyes. “Yeah. ‘People’ are just the best.”

Jorgensen chuckled, he got a kick out of Malcolm’s sardonic sensibility. “Listen Mal, you’re in a nasty line of work, even having to stoop so low by dealing with those psychopathic Sanchez twins.”

“I hear tell they can be all cuddly and adorable if you tickle them just right.”

The rest of the crew continued to unload Serenity, passing back and forth behind the two men, all trying to eavesdrop at the same time.

Jorgensen pulled his cigar out of his mouth, dropped it on the ground and slowly ground it out with his left toe. “Well, I’d want to make sure you and your wonderful crew are out of harm’s way. I know that not all of your jobs are legitimate. Or safe….”

“I wouldn’t say that they were ‘illegal,’ per se…”

“’Cept those ones where guns play a predictable role,” Jayne said.

“I don’t mind what you did before…” Jorgensen said. He calmly paused, clipped and lit another cigar. “…But I’d rather not have to replace you. If you’re willing, I want you to come and work exclusively for me. All legal. No need for guns any more at all. Ever.”

Jayne came to a sudden stop behind Mal and slapped him hard on the arm, grinning ear to ear.“Listen to that Mal. We’d be legit! We’d still get paid the same, right?” he offered to Jorgensen who winked a return.

“Well, I don’t know what to say.”

“I have made good careers for all of my favorite runners. Riggs, Dresden, Lin Yiang. All made much wealth while working my runs. You’d be making more money and have more stability this way.”

“No doubt, the very cherry it would be. But Mingo and Fanty…”

“Ah, yes, they would lose their cut.”

“Ain’t gonna ‘preciate that terribly, I’m thinking.”

“Not to worry, Malcolm. I’ll sort it all out. Ensure they see sense. Oh, by the way, if you want a little funnin’ call them ‘Manty and Fingo.’ Drives them nuts every time.” Where a handshake would do, Jorgensen substituted a big hug.

“It’s so good you want to work for me.” Jorgensen said, finally letting the captain free.

“Mal, you never give us hugs.” Wash commented in faux exasperation. “Zoe dear, he never gives us hugs!”

“I’ll see you all for dinner. Here have a cigar.”

Mal took a puff. “Uh, did I just make a decision here? Somebody tell me quick.”

“Does he mean it sir? About going legit?” Zoe asked.

“Seems like. You folks okay with that?”

Kaylee sighed and rolled her eyes. “Guess it means an end to all our exciting and heroical-like adventures. At least it means we can buy new parts!”

“Then can we get some hugs?” Wash asked.

Chapter 3

Serenity straddled the river, its big rear end over one shore, ramp and cockpit over the other. A sterling white sandy beach stretched out on both sides. Captain Cobb sauntered down the ramp, white cowboy hat pulled down low over his eyes. He stopped and slowly took in the sights. Sights which included the bikini clad Kaylee and Inara frolicking in the water like two young giggly schoolgirls.

“Next time I need a miracle, Captain, I know who I should talk to. How did you find this place?” Book asked coming up from behind.

Jayne took a deep breath, then chomped down on his cigar. “Basic planetary topography. Gho-se runs downhill, preacher. Same goes for mountain fresh water. Hell, everyone knows that!”

He glanced down as Kaylee swam leisurely up close to the shore. “Oh my gosh! It’s beautiful! You’re so amazing Cap’n!”

Inara stepped out of the water, the afternoon sunlight glistening off her perfect milky white body. She grabbed a towel and slowly began to dry off. “Jayne, this place is…”

“Yep. I know.”

River came bounding up the shore and with her childlike freedom hugged Jayne. “Zhè li_ you sha Captain. You are the peak of brilliance.” She leaned close and whispered in his ear. ‘I’m so crazy!’”

“So what you going to call it Cap’n?” Kaylee asked, squeezing water out of her hair.

River danced around the two. “Crazy, crazy, crazy cra-zeeeee…”

“Huh?”

“…crazy! Oh, I’m so nuts! Nutty nuts nuts……”

“This moon…maybe you could call if after ‘someone special’?” hinted Inara who had quietly sidled up next to Kaylee, who in turn took one step forward. “Someone close by, maybe?”

“I’ll call her ‘Ma’s moon’”

“Excellent choice, Jayne,” Book said. Although he couldn’t help but notice the deflated look in the girls eyes.

“Wonderfully fitting.” Inara said flatly, as she turned to go back into the water.

“You sure you don’t want to call it something else?” Kaylee asked. Jayne couldn’t help but catch a longing look she flashed towards her captain.

Jayne took a puff from his cigar, and then dropped his right arm around his young mechanic giving her a tight squeeze. “Kaylee dear” he puffed. “We’ll take a shuttle, find a nice secluded-like place and christen it Kaylee’s Cove. How’d you like that?” He gave her behind a friendly swat.

Kaylee nodded an enthusiastic “yes” and rubbed her captain’s chest.

“Can I come too, Captain?” Inara asked.

“Me too!” River shouted.

“Now girls, come on. Hey, there’s only one of me…”

----

Book leaned over Jayne’s shoulder and contemplated his latest epistle. “If I recall correctly son, that’s not exactly how it happened.”

The gunman quickly fell on top of his letters to cover them from Book’s eyes.

“I just came to tell you it’s time for dinner.”

The Shepherd sat down next to his unlikely friend, smiled and asked “Writing home to your mother?”

“Just a note to say I’m okay.” Jayne grinned a broad grin, “She likes to hear I ain’t dead yet.”

“And the bit where you name a moon that I believe I found?”

“Well, Ma likes to know what I’ve being doing, and she’s kind of got it into her head that…uh…I’m sorta the captain.”

“I see. And how did she get that notion I wonder?”

“No idea…”

“I’m sure she wouldn’t mind if you weren’t the captain.”

“Don’t reckon it’ll do no harm, Shepherd. Just want to make her proud that’s all.”

“Jayne, you mother will love you whatever you do. She’s your mother. I believe it is part of the job description.”

“Yeah! But it doesn’t hurt if I name a planet after her!”

Jayne picked up his pencil and continued his writing. Book got up from the table, gave him a kind pat on the back and said “Remember son, dinner awaits.”

Chapter 4

It was a spacious dining room with high, ornate ceilings, portraits lining the wall and on either side of a very impressive fireplace. At the far end was a two story library, full of old-style books of all sorts, flanked by curving stairways on each side. Of course, the dining room would not be a dining room, unless it had a dining room table. And this one had a huge one of those as well. All of the crew were now seated here, looking largely out of place as they were still in their work-a-day clothes. Except for Kaylee. She insisted on wearing her layer-cake dress, only the second time since the grand ball on Persephone. She loved the rustle it made when she moved, so who cares if it looked “off the rack?”

Jorgensen reached across the table and poured Wash another drink. “Here you go my friend.”

“That’s plenty. Thank you Mr. Jorgensen.”

“What? I thought pilots were famous for their drinking!”

“Only on the job sir.” Jorgensen slapped Mal on the back, the two were fittingly at the head of the table. Their host, mouth full, motioned with a fork towards Wash. “You keep hold of this one Malcolm. No other pilot like this that I know of. Truly amazing!

Wash looked embarrassed, as Zoe nudged him. “His piloting ain’t the only thing that’s ‘amazing,’ isn’t it dear?” she joked. Zoe loved to embarrass Wash, especially in front of strangers.

Mal leaned towards Jorgensen and lowered his voice. “Still ain’t sure that they’ll go for it.”

“Relax! My man Edward is on top of things. I’m sure that it will be fine. They’re reasonable people.”

“Really? This is Mingo and Fanty we’re talking about.”

“Fingo and Manty I think you meant. The original two-headed viper. Yup. Listen, for me, I think they will be reasonable.” He winked at that final comment.

The table banter was briefly interrupted when one of Jorgensen’s assistants entered the room carrying a portable WAVE monitor. “Edward! I hope you were successful?”

“Yes, sir, the Sanchez brothers will be ready to talk momentarily. They do want more than you originally agreed to…”

Jorgensen rolled his eyes. “You did well to get them to the table, Edward.”

“Thank you sir. I felt that you would rather discuss business in the comfort of the dining room, so I took the liberty of bringing the portable.” He placed the monitor in front of his boss and Mal. Wash leaned in from the side, just to take a quick peek, or so he said.

“Always thinking Edward. Oh, where are my manners.” Jorgensen motioned to the rest of his guests. “May I introduce Captain Reynolds and the crew of Serenity.”

Edward reached out to shake Mal’s hand, but missed it completely. “You must excuse me, I am as blind as a bat without these things.” He took out a small pair of very fancy old style eyeglasses that fit snugly on this lean face. Scanning the crew he nodded to each.

Then he stopped. Suddenly. Locked on one face, frozen. He dropped his hand to his side leaving Mal grasping nothing but the air.

Chapter 5

Simon entered with the rest of the crew and looked around. “What a bunch of chou ma niao!”

“Simon! Language!” Jayne scolded his young doctor. “Can’t you bide that tongue of yours just once. We’re in the presence of ladies.”

Inara rushed ahead and gave her old friend a hug. “Nandi, Darling!”

“It’s so good to see you mei-mei…”

“You look wonderful.”

“And you look exactly the same as the day I left. How do you do that out here?”

“Sheer force of will ma’am. Hi, I’m Jayne” the captain interrupted. He shoved his hand towards the bordello’s madam.

“I appreciate you coming.”

”Well, hell, any friend of Inara’s is gonna be like family to me. Don’t care what line of work they in. This here’s my first mate Zoe, I’ll introduce the rest in a bit….they’re good folk, mostly.” Jayne flashed Simon a look.

“Chur ni-duh!” Simon responded under his breath.

Well Ma, you ain’t never heard some of those awful curse words he was usin’. They come outta his mouth like a fountain.

Mal shouted from the corner of the room, one of Nandi’s girls in each arm. “Can I start gettin’ me some sex now?”

----

Jayne continued writing under the table as Mal and Jorgensen continued on the wave monitor. He felt a swift kick coming from the general direction of Kaylee. She motioned him to pay attention to the front of the table.

Fanty and Mingo both pressed themselves together to fit in the same frame of the camera. “We don’t exactly like where your tongue is leading you Reynolds. I seem to recall you working for us.” Mingo said.

“Came begging for work, as I recall” added Fanty.

“Ain’t beggin’ no more,” responded Mal.

Jayne slouched and started picking mindlessly at the remains of his meal like a bored eight-year old. “Don’t know why we don’t tell those two circus freak-boys t’shove it.”

Zoe elbowed Jayne hard in the ribs. She prompted a noticeable wince from her crewmate, not to mention a girlish giggle from Kaylee who was seated across from him.

“Laugh it up you two.” Jayne whispered. “Might haveta refine my polices ‘bout hittin’ girls.”

“Oh, so you hit girls then?” Zoe asked.

“I’ll just have to do it … harder.” Jayne said, giving Zoe a swift kick in return.

Across from the two, Edward quietly took in the scene, shifted his weight a little, and stared in silent distress.

From the other end of the table, Edward could hear that Mal was starting to raise his voice. “Whaddaya mean ‘I owe you!?’ Don’t owe you two a gorram thing besides a ‘have a nice life.’”

He heard the young one, the doctor, chime in “I don’t believe that’s the way to conduct business. Is it??” He glanced at Zoe and Kaylee.

“Why was Simon with this group? Clearly well bred, way above the others in his manners and language.” Edward thought. “What kind of crew was this?”

Edward sat up, startled by Jayne. “Hey Eddie! Wanna send some of your finest fermentation this way?”

“Uh, excuse me, ladies, gentlemen. I have….”

He jumped up and hurried out of the room, leaving Jorgensen more than a little confused. However, being that he was still in the middle of yanking Fanty and Mingo’s numerous chains, Jorgensen didn’t stop him.

“Coulda just said ‘no’.” Jayne said.

“Watched it all melt and now the spirit burns deep.” River said, watching the aid leave, shaking her head.

“No wine for you, if that’s what you’re askin’.” Jayne said, shaking his head. “Gorram, imagine you on the juice…”

Chapter 6

The grounds around Jorgensen’s mansion were surprisingly tasteful and elegant considering their owner’s eccentricities. He even managed to have a white wooden gazebo stationed as a silent sentinel, overlooking a gently sloping grassy field. It is here where Wash and Zoe found some lounge chairs in obvious need of long-term testing.

“This is the life…” Wash said, taking a deep breath, then gagging. “Minus the fish stench that is.”

Zoe sniffed the air. “Have you even bathed since we finished unloading?”

Her husband poked her. She smiled. “Well, this is someone’s life I suppose…”

“Come on my little lemon tart. Fine wine brought to you by waiters with diamond encrusted accents. A lush garden paradise, magnificent mansion…”

“On a barren outhouse of a moon, surrounded by a third-rate terraforming shield…”

“Not surrounded bunny-hop, protected. Jorgensen has carved an oasis of life out of a desert…or whatever you want to call this place where we can sip some fine Cabernet….”

A light breeze blew a wayward leaf between them. They paused and watched it gently tumble and weave down the soft grassy slope, flittering end over end. It drifted tenderly over a low wooden fence and out beyond…where it crossed through the shield and was immediately irradiated by a searing unfiltered sun, shriveled and disintegrated into an unrecognizable smudge of ash.

“Wow great metaphor,” Wash said.

“This isn’t real Wash. You see out there? That’s the real world. That’s were we live, like it or not.”

Wash took a sip of his wine and rolled to his left to face his wife. “But lounges! Butlers!” he pined.

“Wash…”

“Gazebos!! Come on, say it with me ‘Gaa-zeee-bohh’”

“Wash!”

“Look, if we get this gig, we don’t have to live on Serenity all of the time. We’ll have a regular jingle of coinage in our purse, buy a place of our own. A tian, with a, a, what’s Chinese for gazebo?”

“Liang ting.”

“And it will be somewhere to take the little kids, to so they can run around…”

“And smack into an airless void to sizzle like week-old bacon?"

“Picture it. I can park the shuttle in the garden and little Wash Junior can run around, eat dirt, get told off by his mother…”

“And what would you be doing?”

“Me? Drinking the wine of course!”

“And me?”

“You’d be inside, de-worming little Hobie.”

“Rule one. We’re not calling him ‘little Hobie’?”

Her husband wrinkled his nose in mock horror. “But it’s a family name! Dating all the way back to …uh, wait…oh! me!”

----

The crew quietly picked at their meal. The usual happy banter was replaced with an uneasy silence considering their dinner guest this evening was Lt. Amy Marin of the Alliance. Lt. Marin glared across the table at Mal, who stared back with a gaze usually reserved for tax collectors and people who collected stuffed bears. “Folks have a right to live life the way they wanna. Find their own way in this here hell ‘Verse without so much as someone on high bossin’ ‘em around, throwin’ ‘em in the airlock with nuthin’ but a comm to beg for help with…Folks don’t like meddlin’…”

“That’s what we’re doing? We’re trying to help the people way out here. Bring them civilization, its benefits, toilets that flush, horsepower without horses, CorVues, cheaper beer!”

“You call it a civilized life? As the captain says ‘gho-se runs downhill, same as….’”

“MAL!” Jayne slammed his fist down on the table from the end. “Mal, when you’re at my table you’ll keep there a civil tongue to our guests. Politics ain’t proper dinner talk. Don’t matter if they’re Alliance or not, we’re all equals here. Dong ma?”

“Sorry, Cap.” Mal replied. He averted his gaze and looked down at the floor.

“Now Lt. Marin, tell us more about your work out here among the poor.” Jayne asked.

“Yeah, tell us a story, cuz we all love stories!” exclaimed Wash through mouth full of bao.

“Wash! Chew first, then swallow.”

“Sorry sir…I…”

“What the tsao-de is that tsao-de-ing smell?” Simon interrupted. “You tsao-de-ing smell that Captain?”

The doctor leaned towards Wash, taking in a deep breath.

“Tsao de! You stink worse then a two-bit tsao-de-ing whore tsao-de-ing a skunk!”

“Simon! Walk away from this table. Right now.”

The doctor jumped up shoving his chair back against the wall in anger and launched out of the room. Cussing under his breath all the way, he headed for his bunk. “Gorram tsao-de hwoon d……”

----

Jayne bent down close to the paper on the dining room table. His bright orange hat pulled down firmly over his head, pencil in hand. He was oblivious to the muffled shouting from behind the closed door across the room.

The office door flew open, and Malcolm stormed out. A flustered Jorgensen turned back to his large wall monitor, Fanty and Mingo looking blankly down from the screen. “Gentlemen, I’m sure Captain Reynolds did not mean what he said about your mother’s…Actually, I don’t believe I am even familiar with that word, but I am sure he didn’t mean whatever he said…”

“Oh, I am sure he meant it Neils.” Fanty replied. “Yes, brother.” Mingo added.

Mal slammed the door and stood alone in the hallway fuming and cursing under his breath. He stuffed his left hand in his pocket and nervously fingered the loose change the way his father did whenever he was beyond anger.

<“I had to show them Mother. Show them all what HE did.”>

“Captain Reynolds?” said a voice from behind.

Mal turned around and saw Edward facing him, pistol in hand….

Chapter 6

Edwards stood, pistol aimed at Mal who a long time ago learned in situations such as these that the hands were to go generally in an upwards direction. But he was surprised when his assailant handed over the pistol, barrel first. “I thought you be interested in this,” he said.

“Son, if you’re going to show a man a gun, you better learn to show it ass-end first.”

“I’m sorry, that must have been quite a start.”

Mal gingerly took the weapon after nudging the barrel away from him. He examined it closely and started to say “I don’t get…”

“Look, there. The engraving on the handle.”

He bent down and examined the metal stamping closely. He read “J&W, 2459, On Shadow all life is sacred. Self-defense only.”

He looked up, more confused than ever, shifting the gun from one hand to another, feeling its weight, the cold metal against his skin. “A Johnson and Western. I didn’t think there were any of these left, not since, well...how did you know I would have an interest?”

“I recognized your accent when we first met.” Edwards stated with a shy smile. “My family….they’re from Shadow too.”

“Don’t hear any accent from you.”

“Father was career military. That piece was his. I left Shadow when I was young. Followed him in. With a new posting every few years on all manner of rocks, you kind of exchange one twang for another.”

Mal looked at him with a wary gaze. “Alliance?”

“Yup. My belly was as purple as an eggplant. Does that bother you?”

“You said ‘was?’”

Mal handed the pistol back to Edward who tucked it into the back of his pants. He smiled briefly at memories of those who did the same thinking it made them look tough, only to find out what 5 pounds of metal could do to ones pants without a proper belt.

“Perspectives do change occasionally Captain.”

----

The crazed villagers surrounded both River and Simon. Their torches making an already surreal scene more so.

“The witch must die! God commands it!” The town’s patron bellowed. His beard looked like orange ash in the ghostly light of the flames.

“Dao di yu!” Simon shouted, backing up towards his sister who was tightly bound to a heavy vertical pole.

“Cussin’s not going to stop us doctor.”

River smiled down at Simon. Her innocent childlike features flickering in the strangely warm glow of the torches. It briefly reminded him of a camping trip they had gone on when she was only seven. But this was no family outing, and she either knew something that Simon didn’t, which wouldn’t be the first time, or she truly was so nuts that she didn’t realize that her time might finally have come.

“Post holer. Digging holes for posts…Gee. I’m SOOOOO crazy!”

Simon returned her smile. He loved her as much as any brother can love his sister. He stepped up upon the rough wood piled around the base of her stake, wrapped his arms in a final embrace and gave the command to the villagers, “Light it…you humping humpers!”

River added “Time to go.”

Just as the villagers were surging ahead, the still of the country sky was split in two by a strong roar as a mighty wind. This was a sound that Simon immediately recognized as Serenity’s engines. Both he and River looked up and sure enough, it was their boat that was settling down over the clearing. Mal was suspended by a harness in the opening of the cargo bay, a little unsteady and panicky. But steady enough to be able to take aim at some of the hillfolk.

“Well, look at this!” the Captain roared as he marched out from the shadows of the woods, his brown duster blowing behind him almost like a gentleman’s opera cape. Zoe followed immediately behind, both with guns drawn looking mightily fearsome.

“Now, don’t you think you’re takin’ this persecution complex of yours a might far doc? Why don’tcha just step downoff that pole?”

“It’s a stake, sir. Not a pole.” Zoe stated.

Jayne turned to his second.

“That foulmouthed doc and ‘is moonbrain sister ‘bout to get themselves burnt at the stake by a bunch of inbred, superstitions, ugly, dumbass hillfolk. Doc, I told you that mouth of yours was gonna git you into trouble.”

“It appears that we got here just in time sir.” Zoe said.

“And what does that make us?”

“Big damn heroes, sir.”

“Ain’t we just!”

“Tsao de right!” Simon shouted.

The town’s patron stepped forward, angered at the sudden interruption of their personal business.

“This is a holy cleansing. We don’t have any clean water ‘cause all our gho-se runs down the hill.’ So we use fire instead. You cannot think to thwart God’s will.”

Both Jayne and Zoe moved towards their crewmates. He paused, glanced up at Mal, then back at the mob and shouted above the deafening roar of Serenity’s engines. Dirt and leaves were kicked up all around, forming little dust devils, adding to the chaos. “You see that boy hanging out of the spaceship with the really big gun?”

Mal grinned his toothy grin and waved his gun in an awkward hello. Suddenly he slipped, lost his grip and…

“…well, now he’s fallin….”

…dropped 15 feet out of Serenity.

“…and..oh, hittin’…”

He hit the roof of a building and rolled off to the ground, his high pitched voice breaking the night air with a string of profanities.

The villagers were none too impressed; in unison they glanced at Mal writhing on the ground in pain, then moved their collective stares back to Jayne and Zoe.

“Um, well, heh…how ‘bout that. Huh?” Jayne said.

Some of the villagers began to move towards the two. One launched himself towards Zoe, as the others rushed Jayne who knocked him back with the butt of his gun. He then grabbed Zoe’s attacker, lifted him up and threw him off into the darkness.

Two black clad ninjas came darting out of the middle of the crowd. Jayne and Zoe dropped to the ground.

“They’ll try to use the style of them shadow monks on us. Whatever you do, keep a defensive parry to their long arms, or they’ll cut your forward stance to shreds.”

“Huh sir?”

The ninjas drew their swords and crept up, closing in on the two.

“Follow my lead,” the captain commanded.

----

Jayne grinned, pleased at himself more then usual. He flipped to another page in the martial arts book next to him that he barrowed from Jorgensen’s library. He traced some text with his finger and jotted down a few notes.

River crept up from behind and holding her breath, peered over his right shoulder.

“That’s all wrong.”

A startled Jayne spun around. “What the??”

“You wouldn’t use that move. Your opponent could counter that too easily. You’d us a moh-wash-ee geri. And yo-ko geri kee-ya-gay is spelt with a ‘k’ not a ‘c’.”

A confused Jayne just looked at the girl.

“Just where did you go to school? And don’t you know that it’s bad manners to read another man’s…”

River placed a finger on Jayne’s lips and leaned in so as to be only a couple of inches away. She knew this bothered him, which is precisely why she liked doing it for that reason.

“And it isn’t right. Tangent.” She whispered.

His eyes wide, he leaned back and ducked to get out of her way. “What you talking ‘bout, girl?”

“Time is linear. Events have either occurred, are occurring or will occur. Yours qualifies as none of the above. A tangent.”

“Listen girl, I don’t know.”

She burst out laughing, grabbed the hat off his head and danced away shouting over her shoulder “Fairy tales are for children, silly!”

“Gorram crazy little drunk.” He mumbled. “Now where was I?”

----

Two black clad ninjas came darting out of the middle of the crowd. Jayne and Zoe dropped to the ground.

THREE black clad ninjas came darting out of the middle of the crowd. Jayne and Zoe dropped to the ground.

The ninjas drew their swords and crept up, closing in on the two.

“Follow my lead.” Jayne commanded. He whipped out the hidden pistol under his duster and demonstrated that it’s not a pen that’s more powerful then a sword, but a .38.

He then rushed to help Zoe off the ground, and paused, breathing heavily, as their lips closed in together. She stared up at him, even as other villagers continued their approach. “Take me sir. Take me hard.”

“Can’t sweetie. Got some hero stuff to do.”

“Cut her down!” Jayne commanded, pointing to River.

“That girl’s a witch!” the Patron shouted.

“Yeah, but she’s my witch!”

“Yeah you tsao-de drunk!” Simon shouted leaning out from behind his captain.

The Captain winked at River, grinning, she gave him an adoring wink back.

He cocked his gun to show he meant business. “So cut her the gorram hell down.” He commanded.

“Come here girl. Uncle Jayne is going protect you.” Jayne said, glancing back at the mob.

“Yeah, they must be really crazeeee!” River responded.

Jayne heaved her over one shoulder. The villagers looked on in anger but knew they were outmatched. As he left, Jayne stepped over the bodies of the ninjas and playfully slapped the girl on her bottom generating a small giggle as they vanished into the night air.

----

He picked up his letter, grinning ear to ear and held it up to the light for one final inspection.

Chapter 7

Malcolm Reynolds and Edward strolled through the colorful flower garden. Up the hillside were Hibiscuses of scarlet red and delicate peach tones. The sweet fragrance of Jasmine was infused through the air. Lining the walkway was a mixture of Poppies, White Yarrow and Chinese Houses.

Edward stuffed his hands in his pockets as he walked. A habit dating back to his childhood. “How are you finding working for Mr. Jorgensen?”

“Less near-death experiences. And that makes for a pleasant change. Hoping that we’ll be able to go full time with you.”

“Yes, Mr. Jorgensen has been raving about ‘his new crew’ ever since you won that race of his.”

They came to a split in the walkway. Edward motioned the captain to go left, towards a bamboo grove.

“T’was a might ‘fascinating’ I have to say.”

“Not my idea, thankfully,” Edward replied.

They came to a small marble table. Edward took one seat and Mal the other across from him. There was a stone chess board carved in the top, with two different shades of marble marking out the squares. He wondered if anyone had actually used it for the game in the many years it had been there.

“So, how did you end up working for Jorgensen? Thought the Alliance would have nice shiny jobs for its brave heroes.” Mal said, only to pause and correct himself after noticing his new friend’s hurt look. “Sorry, old habits.”

“My father died before the war. My mother returned home, to Shadow. She was there when it happened…I was sort of… displaced after the war ended. With no home and with so few jobs going in the core, I ended up drifting out to the border planets. Got a job working security on New Melbourne, Jorgensen found me, made one of his famous ‘better offers,’ and here I am.”

<…and I needed to know whether it meant as much to him as it did to me…>

“Did you, well, lose anyone on Shadow, Captain?”

Mal briefly glanced away, up the hillside, catching Zoe and Wash joking around in the distance. He wondered what they were talking about. He loved their banter. It was truthsome, homey, full of love. He missed that in his own life. He paused, took a slow breath and confessed, “Everyone lost a lot in the war. More than I ever thought could be taken from a-one man. Shadow was just one grape in a whole bushel-o’-loss.”

Edward knew what he meant, and turned his own gaze out towards the shield and the wasteland that stretched so silently beyond.

The stillness was ruined when Jayne, Book and River rounded the corner. Jayne was very good and ruining stillnesses. “Preacher, I tell ya, there ain’t nothin’ wrong with it!”

“I believe the Good Book disagrees with you on that one, son.”

River slowed down briefly and caught Edward’s gaze.

“Better not be messing up my deal, Jayne.” Mal told his personal thug-turned smuggler.

“No more’n you have.”

Book jumped in. “We were just having a philosophical, hypothetical chat on the value of truth telling. How God wants all…”

Malcolm rolled his eyes looked back at Edward and made little talking “blah, blah, blah” motions with his hand.

“Captain, whatever your feelings on…”

Beep-beep, went Edward’s blue communications unit. He yanked it off of his belt. His boss’s voice came crackling through.

“Edward? I have good news! Please show our guests to the gazebo. I have a bottle waiting.”

Edward held the talkie to his face and spoke “we’ll be there shortly.” He put it down and motioned to the guests. “This way gentlemen, and lady.”

He noticed River breaking her stare at him. It was creepy. It was like a cat focusing on a small wounded bird just before it was ready to pounce.

----

Jorgensen had gathered the rest of the crew in the gazebo. He had a small, but welcoming little table along one side. A bottle of champagne stood proudly in the center, surrounded by a phalanx of glasses.

Mal took the short flight of stairs up to the little platform, the others followed. “Twisted their arms off, did ya?” he asked.

Jorgensen lit up a new cigar and straightened his sailor cap. “No thanks to you. But Mingo and Fanty did, well, see my way eventually.” He grabbed the bottle, and started working on the cork.

Soon came the expected pop, the cork barely missing a ducking Book, as it was launched nearly out of atmo on its own little suborbital arc accentuated all the more by the lower gravity of the small world.

“Well, that is something to drink to.” Mal stated.

“I ain’t never needed no excuse to drink, pass the bubbly!” Jayne said.

Jorgensen poured his own glass and passed the champagne to Jayne who immediately took a manly swig out of the bottle before passing it to the others.

“Ewww….Zoe! Jayne cooties!” Wash remarked.

“Cap’n, I got a whole list of new parts I want!” Kaylee said excitedly filling her own glass.

“We asking for stuff? Already?” Wash said. “Oh, oh, can I get one of those large…”

“With your cut Wash, you can have whatever jims your jam.” Mal shot back.

“Jims my jam?” Wash mouthed silently towards his wife.

“That’s Mal-speak for ‘you can get whatever you want, dear.” Zoe whispered, then gave him a quick kiss on the cheek.

“Couldn’t he just say that?”

”I think he did.”

“Before everybody goes on a spending spree, I’m afraid I need to tell you that the twins want a lump sum up front to cover lost revenue.” Jorgensen said.

“Why am I not surprised?” Mal huffed.

“In the long run, you’ll be better off.” Jorgensen said. He handing Mal his glass and clinked it with is own.

“Going legitimate, Captain, I didn’t think you could do it.” Book said. “I thought half the fun of this racket was sticking a thumb in the Alliance’s eye.”

“Well, perspectives do change sometimes Shepherd.”

Edward had stepped back a little from the happy crowd to take in the scene. Simon sided up to him asking, “Are you okay? You looked a little flushed.”

Jorgensen’s assistant managed a weak smile, and waved the young doctor off. “I’m fine, thank you for asking. Just all the excitement I suppose.”

“Don’t know what I’m ruttin’ going to do, now we gone all legitty. Not much call for shootin’ with a hold full of slippery fish ain’t stolen,” commented Jayne.

“Well, there is still the heavy lifting. And don’t forget the occasional ironic observation.” Wash said.

“Good honest hard work has its virtues son.” Book added.

“Yeah, the very definition of ‘high adventure.’”

River couldn’t help but notice Edward slowing shifting towards Jayne. He moved one of his hands behind him. Were one to observe her, they might notice her speaking. Speaking under her breath they might see her whisper “no, no, no. He can change. Has changed.”

“But does it have to be fish? No offense Mr. Jorgensen, but fish just ain’t my thing.” Wash said. “Now Magic 8-balls I could do.”

Edward took a sudden step forward into the light. River glanced at him and then Book. She said “I DON’T GIVE HALF A HUMP IF YOU’RE INNOCENT OR NOT! NOW WHERE DOES THAT LEAVE YOU?”

Book looked on her in shock. Edward in horror. The others in puzzlement.

It was Mal who first caught a glimmer of the pistol. A tiny wink of a flash as the sun glinted off its barrel. “Hey, whoa…”

It happened so suddenly.

Edward now stood facing Shepherd Book, gun in both hands and a blank emotionless expression on this face.

“Now do you care who’s innocent sir?” he said.

Chapter 8

There are times when a man comes face to face with his past. If he was lucky, it can be an occasion marked by joy and wonder, or one of reminiscing with old friends. This was not one of those times.

Mal stood looking at the pistol along with the rest of the crew, a very bewildered Jorgensen and a knowing Shepherd. Zoe instinctively reached for her weapon, quickly moving to shield Wash from any possible excitement. Simon grabbed his sister and shoved her behind a tree.

“Edward!?” Jorgensen gasped.

“Nobody move. I’m not going to hurt anyone innocent. I want you all to learn a truth.”

“Listen…” Mal said, trying to soften the moment.

“No! You listen!” Edwards nervously thrust the gun towards Book, and tilted his head towards Mal and his boss. “Do you know who this man is? This man who’s been on your ship for how long?? This man is a monster!” he sputtered, as he started to perspire. “He hides behind that…that collar after all the things he has done!”

“Look, son...” Book said taking a half step towards the man with his hands extended.

“KNEEL! Down on the ground! Hands behind your head!”

Book quickly complied.

“Do they know who you are? What you’ve done? Why don’t you confess right here, ‘preacher?’ That’s what you do don’t you? Confess?” Edwards motioned towards Mal with his gun. “Why don’t you tell your precious Captain who you are?” he shouted.

Even facing the gun, Book kept his voice even and moderated as if he was explaining nothing more serious as to how to peel an orange. “I wish I could son, if I even know what in the ‘Verse you were talking about.”

Book was struck in the face with the butt of the pistol.

“Hwoon dahn! I was there! I saw what happened to my family! To everyone!”

Jayne tried to edge closer to Edwards, but found himself staring down the gun’s barrel as well.

“Thought you might miss the ‘adventure’ Mr. Cobb?”

“Easy Ed.” Mal stated in a calming voice. He could tell that this man wasn’t a cold blooded killer by the waver in his voice and how he perspired. He clearly had never shot anyone before. Hell, had probably never shot a gun in 20 years. That didn’t make him any safer though. Just more unpredictable. “No need for any of this. You wanna talk, we can all head back inside for a pow-wow, get it all out in the open. Maybe have some ice cream, wine. No guns required.”

Jayne surprised all when stepped in front of Mal. “You wanna shoot someone. Eddy? Huh? Well, you got time for one clear shot, and if you miss, boy you miss BIG!”

Mal stepped around Jayne and whispered to him “Now’s not the time to grow a spine!”

“Either of you take another step, I will kill this old man first and you second! I got more than enough bullets to go around! Justice will be had today, one way or another!”

“Edward, listen to me.” Book pleaded. “I’m not the man you think I am.”

“And neither am I. Once I was Lance Corporal Edward Jung of the 107th. Stationed on Shadow. My homeworld.” He glanced back at Mal.

Book’s voice dropped slightly. “I understand your grief son, but killing me won’t solve any damn thing.”

“No? You’ve been wrong before, haven’t y…”

Book’s countenance suddenly changed. It was hard; it was caustic, as if a different personality had seized possession of his body. Even the voice was that of a different man as he began to stand, shaking in anger with his fists clenched. “Now look you little worm, get your facts straight before…” he hissed.

Edward started to panic, looking around at the others, the heavy gun was beginning to shake in his pale hand.

It was Jayne who dove in from the side and pushed Book out of the way, the moment Edward fired. Jayne in turn rolled over and kicked the gunman in the chest. Edward flew back and over a low hedge to a small slope lining some of the unfinished grounds. Stunned, he rolled over and over in the lower gravity until he came to a stop at the base of the slope.

Edward had come to a rest on his back, the upper half of his body lying just outside the atmospheric shield. In a few seconds it was over for him as he went limp, starved for air, unprotected from the unsympathetic and unblinking rays of the sun.

The others stared, unsure of what to say, wondering who this preacher really was in their midst.

But it was Kaylee’s scream that broke the temporary silence.

She pointed at Jorgensen lying motionless on the ground, a dark red stain creeping across his shirt. Simon rushed to his side, simultaneously tearing his shirt open and checking for a pulse. He looked into the left eye, then the right eye. Then he closed them, looked up at the others and shook his head. Only one person wasn’t looking at Jorgensen’s lifeless form. Book, who noticed a letter sticking out of Edward’s jacket pocket. A jacket that had been hanging across the back of a chair.

“What we do now Cap’n?” Kaylee asked, tears still roiling in her eyes.

“Call Mingo and Fanty.”

----

The brothers sat around their usual table, their “office” of sorts, loving the moment when someone comes crawling back to them. Yes, they could be cruel. Someone once called them “cruel but fair.” Together they watched Mal’s face on the wave monitor. It was pained, withdrawn, and wildly entertaining.

“Thank you. You’re, well, generous men, taking us back like this and all.”

Mingo nodded and snapped the monitor shut. “Captain Reynolds is becoming a problem.”

“Inconsistent.” Fanty said. The waitress placed a pot of mint tea on the corner of the table and poured some into his cup. Even though the Maidenhead was a rough place, the Sanchez brothers were good customers and if they wanted a martini with little pink flowers served by a dwarf dressed as a bunny, they would get it. And if they wanted mint tea. They got it.

“Unpredictable. Another one sweetheart!” he motioned for a waitress to fill up his glass.

“Could hurt our interests, should that unpredictability turn our way.”

Mingo took a sip of his cocktail. “We need to cut ties.”

“Indeed. Permanently.”

“’Permanent’ usually comes with ‘messy.’ We can’t have ‘messy.’”

Fanty cracked one of his knuckles. “Reynolds wants to prove himself again. Won’t ask too many questions.” He paused, looked around the dim surroundings in The Maidenhead. He pressed his fingers together forming a little steeple. “I’m thinking…”

“Lilac?”

“You’re a reader brother. That would take him very close to where those dreadful attacks have taken place. In fact he just might not survive.”

“A shame.” Mingo said. Even in private, both brothers used a calm and cultured voice. They could be talking about nothing more serious then a bowl of soup that was slightly too cool.

“And if he does?”

“Brother, I am surprised! We get what’s due us of course. And ultimately, he gets what’s due him in the end.”

“Either way the breasts bounce, this is the good captain’s last bounce.” He held up his tea cup.

“With anyone. Ever.” The two smiled and clinked their respective glasses.

Chapter 9

Serenity sailed sadly away from Jorgensen’s moon. The crew still in shock wondering if they just might be cursed after all. Zoe and Wash were on the bridge, she silently rocked in his arms. Their plans having been reduced to a mere fantasy of a future that was prematurely destroyed.

Mal entered through the right door He stared out into the black, watching the stars wheel slowly around.

“So?” Wash asked in a soft voice, breaking the silence.

“Kept me waiting and had to grovel like a dog.”

“Yeah. We saw that part.”

“You were watching?”

“Caught the ending. Those guys are very predictable. They need some new writers.”

Zoe spoke up, saying, “Least they agreed to take us back.”

“Gotta prove ourselves all over again. Still waitin’ for the details.”

“But we’re heading to Haven first, right? For the shepherd?”

There was a long awkward pause. “Right.” Mal whispered.

“What happened sir. It wasn’t your fault.” said Zoe, in a poor attempt to comfort her captain.

----

Tears softly rolled down Book’s face. He clutched the letter that could never reach its intended reader as he sat on the corner of his bed. His back was facing towards the door. It was of events that almost happened, but not quite.

He looked down again and continued to read.

He heard a faint knock on the door. Wiping his tears, he quickly stuck the letter under the folds of a rumpled sheet on his bed.

“Come..come in.”

Malcolm Reynolds entered. He rarely came into Book’s quarters, fearing either a plea to confess something or the onslaught of guilt for not doing so.

“Shepherd?”

“I’m right where you left me.”

Mal pulled out a small chair and sat down on it opposite his friend. “Came to see you were alright, considerin’”

“Considering…?”

“It’s not every day a preacher gets a gun toted to his ear. Or is it?”

“Why don’t you just say what you came here to say Mal?”

There was a brief moment of silence. The two men could hear the muffled complaints of Jayne drifting their way from the vicinity of the cargo hold.

“I understand a man has a right to his past. To beat his own demons.”

The two stared heavily at each other.

Mal continued. “But Shadow was my past too, Shepherd. Lost my ma, my family, friends…” He stood up. “If you know something about that past, it’s my right too. Think on that.” He turned to leave. “S’all I’m gonna say. For now.”

Mal slipped back out of the cabin leaving Book alone with his thoughts once more. He looked down at the floor at the rough metal grates that met his feet every morning. He looked up at the one dim light that was on over his desk. It was familiar, loving almost. It felt strangely like home. He slipped his left hand under the sheet and touched the letter. The letter that would never be sent. He almost felt its words crawling up his arm. And he remembered the scorched land. The ashen fields where there once were vibrant forests. Rich golden meadows of wheat so picturesque that you expected them to be used as calendar pages, now blackened as the darkest corner of hell. A corner which had finally tracked him down and slowly crept into his room.

Chapter 10

Jayne rushed ahead in his EMT uniform. Simon trailed in his doctor’s outfit pushing his sister in a wheelchair. River was in an overly small patient’s gown, as the three quickly moved through the doors. Simultaneously spotlights from all directions switched on, blinding the trio.

Over a poorly tuned loudspeaker they heard crackling: “Federal Marshals-don’t move!”

Jayne raised his arm to shield his eyes. They adjusted from the glare just enough to reveal the fact that they were surrounded by armed feds. A lot of them, moving slowly and cautiously towards the three. River began to panic as her brother froze in the light.

“River and Simon Tam. By the authority of the Union of Allied Planets, you are hereby bound by law.” Agent McGinnis motioned to his men. “Take them to processing.”

Jayne tightened his jaw. “I don’t ruttin’ think so.”

“What do you mean? We had a deal.”

“I changed my mind.”

“What? You just can’t ‘change your mind’.”

“Why not?” Jayne said icily.

“Well, I have your reward for…”

----

Jayne put his pencil in his teeth and leaned back in the chair. “No no, that’s wrong.”

After some short, what could pass for thought, he erased the last paragraph and started again.

----

“River and Simon Tam. By the authority of the Union of Allied Planets, you are hereby bound by law.” Agent McGinnis motioned to his men. “Take them!”

“Why you tsao de, who likes to tsao de warthogs!” Simon shouted.

Jayne tightened his jaw. “I don’t ruttin’ think so.” he said to himself, and punched McGinnis knocking him flat. He rushed the next nearest marshal, grabbing his rifle and slammed it down on his head.

“Get ‘em!” shouted another from shadows behind one of the lights.

Jayne started shooting as others returned his fire. A confused Simon started to spin his sister around and around, looking frantically for an opening to escape through.

The captain darted towards his left, grabbed a second gun from the floor and began firing wildly with both guns simultaneously into the shadows.

Jayne caught another slipping out from behind some crates. Took aim and pulled off several more rounds sending the man quickly to the floor.

From the other side he saw yet another guard take aim shielded by some equipment. He ducked and rolled, barely escaping the oncoming rounds. He carefully aimed at the bottom part of a metal ledge, squeezed off a single shot which ricocheted and struck the guard in the arm putting him down on the floor.

Out of nowhere two men in gray suits and blue gloves glided rapidly towards the Tams.

Jayne pulled both triggers at once, hitting both men at the very same time. In unison they both clutched their wounds and slipped down to their knees.

“Ah, gorramit!” Jayne snatched his last sheet into his right hand, balled it up and threw it across the room. He jumped up, sending the chair scooting halfway across the floor. He grabbed his pencil and the rest of his letter and headed on out.

He found Book in the darkened cargo bay, loading a small crate of fish leftover from their last delivery.

“Whatcha doin’ here Shepherd?”

“Just packing some of the leftovers to share with the folks on Haven.”

Pulling up a crate, Jayne sat down, still clutching his papers.

“Not a lot of fishing on Haven, huh?”

“Not really, no.”

The preacher closed the crate and stood silent. “Thank you for earlier. Not every day you have your life saved like that.”

“Weren’t nothin’. Woulda done it for any of the crew. Hell, maybe even the doc.”

“Now that is something. Still, thank you.” Book grabbed Jayne’s arm, and gave it a tight solid squeeze. He struggled to say more. It was a time to confess. If not to Mal, to Jayne. Maybe. If not for Mal. At least for himself.

High above, River was stretched out on the upper gangway. Unseen. Watching. Listening. Her thin hair delicately hanging over the edge. She could hear Book. She mouthed his words. “I’ve done things Jayne. There are things that…I wish I hadn’t. I don’t know that I could face any of you if…”

“People can change. Can’t they? God gives them that right and that gift. The man I am now isn’t the man I used to be. The man who died today, Edward, he was from another life. He knew the—“

Jayne surprised River and even himself with the words that now that began to fall out of his mouth.

“Preacher, I don’t know who you used to be, and I don’t much care. We all done things we ain’t proud of an’ lived to tell the tale, me especial. The man you are now is my friend. He’s the one I saved.”

Book again wiped his eyes. “Thank you.” He said quietly.

“That’s what friends are for, right? Right?”

Jayne stood up, and took a neatly folded stack of paper from his pocket.

“That’s your letter home, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, it’s just...well, the spelling and…stuff…”

“Oh, I know about ‘stuff’ alright. Mind if I take a look?” Book offered a weak smile.

Jayne handed the letter to his friend who started flipping through pages, ignoring the misspellings and occasional profanity.

“This is quite a letter.”

“Yeah, well she just likes to hear about all my ‘ventures and I didn’t know what to write, so I just kept….”

Book looked back up at Jayne. “Son, why not just tell the truth?”

He handed the letter back to Jayne.

“You think?”

Book turned to leave, He stopped and looked back over his shoulder. “If I know mothers, she’ll love you for who you are Jayne.”

“I wouldn’t bet on that Preach.”

“I would. Tell her the truth.” He continued slowly up the steps, catching a glimpse of River’s vaporous presence. Then to himself Book looked ahead and whispered “I only wish I could.”

----

Jayne sat back down on the crate and started to re-read his letter. “Ah, gorrammit!” he mumbled, shaking his head. He pulled a blank piece of paper from the back of the pile, tossed the others aside and began to write.

River continued to look down from her perch. Still laying face down, she playfully scratched her bare toes by rubbing them against the rough floor, then blew a little puff of air at the thin strands of hair that were still draped over the edge. She wanted to see if she could get them to move. With her right index finger she began to write invisible letters on the floor.

River’s left hand firmly clutched an orange knit cap.

----------

Virtual Firefly is a joint effort among dedicated Browncoat authors with way too much time on their hands. They’ve let their flights of fancy take some fancy flights indeed by imagining what the ‘Verse “might’ve been” had Firefly continued. New stories take up where the series left off, all presented in script form. They answer some of the big questions, some of the little questions, and sometimes just answer questions that haven’t even been thought up yet. Come join us as we break atmo at www.stillflying.net.

“Letters to Home” is based on episode 2x10, the tenth episode of season 2.