THE VALLEY (Fan fiction based upon the characters in the television series “Firefly”)

It sounded like a pretty straightforward job. At least that’s what Mal told himself. As captain of Serenity, Mal Reynolds was the one who was supposed to get the call when you wanted to hire his ship or his crew. Not that he would necessarily turn away work that came through another door. Necessity and experience made Mal a practical man. And since the gorram Alliance had recently doubled, and in some sectors tripled, their patrols, his practical side made him willing to listen to almost any proposal. Decent smuggling jobs were getting tough to find. There was always thieving, but lately that seemed to bring an overabundance of shooting. Even with their newly acquired doctor, Simon Tam, around to mend em properly, Mal had decided to avoid jobs where it looked like a lot of gunplay was inevitable. Unfortunately, times being what they were, Mal’s newfound cautiousness left them with little to no work and a quickly diminishing fuel and food supply. The job they were heading towards was supposed to change all that. In fact, from what Mal had heard so far it might even be legal. Of course, the facts were a bit sketchy, and there was that one potentially serious flaw. The job came by way of Jayne.

It was the “Jayne” issue that made it impossible for Mal to sleep. While the others took to their beds, Mal wandered his ship from bridge to hold, thinking. Perhaps, he was being unfair. Not all of Jayne’s ideas lacked sanity. In fact, from time to time, Jayne could be pretty cunning. On the other hand, the last time Jayne cut his own deal, he damn near brought the Feds down on all of them. Mal’s instincts told him that any job brought to the table by Jayne was probably screwed up from the get go. Unfortunately, they needed money, yesterday, and to get that they needed work.

On the positive side, the trip to meet Jayne’s client gave them a legitimate reason to steer clear of the central planets. It had been almost three weeks since Inara had declared that she was leaving the ship. Mal agreed to keep this decision between the two of them, while Inara looked for her new home. Both Mal and Inara knew that her decision would upset Kaylee for one. Inara was the older sister Kaylee never had. And, lately, Kaylee was under enough pressure just keeping Serenity in the air. Each morning, at the breakfast table, she would dog Mal with a list of parts she desperately needed for things that were “on their last legs.” At which point, Mal would tell her that he was certain she could keep them shiny for just a bit longer. Sometimes he would punctuate that statement with a smile or a kiss on the top of her head, then he would quickly leave the galley for parts unknown. In response, Kaylee would let a few choice Chinese expletives fly at his retreating backside, then leave the table herself for the engine room where she would perform her daily miracles. From these transactions, the others saw the lay of the land. As usual, Serenity was sailing on borrowed time.

Having effectively wandered the length of his ship a half dozen times, Mal decided to return to his cabin and at least pretend to sleep. They weren’t due to reach the rendezvous in the outer ring for another couple of days, so he had time to mull over the problem. Mal climbed the steps from the hold. When he reached the first landing, Mal could see that the door to Inara’s shuttle was resting open. The other shuttle was locked up tight, but the only time the ship’s door to Inara’s shuttle was closed was when the small craft was gone or on one of those exceedingly rare occasions when she entertained a client on board. Even though Mal and Inara spoke at some length about her need for privacy, when she became Serenity’s first official lodger, it had been a long time since she felt the need to close that door. No one on the crew ever barged into her home without permission, except Mal, of course. He entered her domain without invitation, usually catching an earful from Inara for his impulsiveness, then leaving feeling better than he had all day. When he reached the walkway between the two shuttles, Mal was painfully tempted to step inside and see if Inara was actually asleep. Maybe that’s why she kept the door open? But no, he thought. Who was he kidding? Inara had made her desires plain. She would soon be leaving, and he’d best wrap his brain around that fact.

Just as Mal reached the door to his own cabin, he heard a soft thumping noise, like the sound of gravel being tossed onto a tin roof. He knew that sound meant trouble. He started to run down the corridor towards the bridge, as the ship proximity alarm began to blare. When he reached the bridge, his pilot, “Wash” Warren was already there directing the ship through a field of debris – meteors. Wash was wearing nothing but his pants. His blond hair was a disheveled mess.

“Not to worry, Mal,” Wash said, without taking his eyes off the field in front of him. “This ain’t too bad. She might get a scratch or two on the outside, but we’ll steer her around anything big.” Mal’s second in command, Zoe Warren entered the bridge fully dressed with her husband’s shirt and sandals in hand. Zoe dropped the sandals on the floor in front of Wash, and then helped him slip into his shirt one arm at a time, so he wouldn’t need to give up the controls.

“Morning, sir,” Zoe said.

Mal nodded his head to Zoe, then turned back to Wash, and asked, “Ye soo! Can’t we go around this?” Zoe softly smiled to herself and took a step back. She had spent the better part of the night listening to her husband’s frustrations about the course and their lack of fuel cells. Wash bit his lower lip and exhaled.

“We went through this before, Mal,” he said. “We have enough fuel for a direct shot. We knew there was a possibility of rough sky in this section of the Verse. The way the Alliance pounded these outer moons during the war, it’s a miracle more of them didn’t break up by now.” Mal was leaning forward, nervously watching the path in front of them. Even from the corner of his eye, Wash could see that Mal was ready to drop. They had pushed their resources, including Mal, as far as they could.

“Look, I can get us safely through this junk,” Wash said. “I’ll just turn off the alarm, and why don’t you go try to get some sleep. Zoe will keep watch with me, and will get you if there’s a real problem.”

“Thanks, but I’m fine,” Mal responded. It was fei hua like this that made life so much simpler. He thought he had choice about the meeting with Jayne’s contact, but he really didn’t. Watching his ship as it was pelted with basketball size rocks made that abundantly clear to him. They would take the meeting and hope for the best. At the request of “the client,” the meeting was to take place in the middle of nowhere. They arrived at the coordinates as scheduled, but there was no other ship in sight. They waited two days. Mal, who was too angry with Jayne to look at him, soon retreated to the special contraband compartment beneath the hold in search of something . . . anything . . . to sell, while Wash mapped a course to the nearest moon. Inara offered to pay her next month’s rent in advance, but since she’d made clear that she’d be gone by then, Mal refused to take her money. Simon scavenged through his personal medical supplies to come up with a box of medications that might fetch a fair price on the black market, but Mal was not about to take anything away from his crew’s medical supplies, if he could help it. In the deepest pocket of Serenity’s contraband, Mal found his most valuable and most worthless piece of stolen property, the Lassiter Gun – the original laser gun. He had stolen one of the most priceless objects in the Verse, and he couldn’t give the damn thing away, let alone sell it. Mal slid down the cold steel wall, until he was sitting on the floor. He couldn’t let them see his frustration. Mal would figure a way out of this situation, even if it meant swallowing his pride and taking the money from Inara. Mal pushed himself back up the wall and began to make his way out of the compartment and into the hold. He could hear a crackling sound Mal recognized as Wash trying to communicate with him via the intercom. Once they had a spare cent, Mal thought, he’d have to have Kaylee fix the speakers back here. Mal climbed out of the compartment into the hold and pushed the intercom button.

“I believe you rang,” he said. Wash responded at almost the exact moment, a rather smug-looking Jayne popped through the door to fetch him.

“Jayne’s friends have arrived,” Wash said. Then, Zoe added.

“You’re gonna want to see this from the bridge, sir.”

Zoe thought she was staring at a ghost. All but two of the war birds that once docked along her sides were gone, as were her enormous gun turrets. There was no mistaking her, though, this was the Pontchartrain. Once a fierce battleship, she fought on the side of the Independents. When Mal finally entered the bridge, Zoe just looked at him then nodded towards the other vessel. Mal was speechless. He knew this ship as well. He had waited desperately for her, but that was seven years ago in Serenity Valley.

The entire crew, except for Inara, Simon and his little sister, River, who remained safely tucked away in Inara’s shuttle, waited in the hold to board the Pontchartrain. Under normal circumstances, Mal would have made everyone wait on Serenity while he, Zoe and Jayne checked the terrain. These were not normal circumstances. Simultaneously, Jayne and a crewman on the other ship opened the large doors that separated them. Mal stepped through the door into one of the Pontchartrain’s many docking bays followed, as always, by Zoe, then Jayne and the others. They were greeted by a group of well-armed men, obviously all hardened war veterans. Again, if these were normal circumstances, Mal would have backed his people out of there immediately. But on this day, he could hardly contain his surprised smile. They were browncoats. The men swept apart, allowing the one in charge to step to the front. The “boss” was a tall, solidly built woman with steel gray hair pulled back into one long braid. She wore black trousers, a black shirt, a long brown duster, and an officer’s sidearm. She stopped in front of Mal, but looked past him to Jayne. Without saying a word, she spread out her arms and Jayne rushed forward and gave her a big hug.

“Mother Paris,” Jayne exclaimed.

Mal turned to Zoe and mouthed the word, “Mother?” Zoe rolled her eyes, and Kaylee snorted out a short burst of laughter. Finally releasing the aging amazon, Jayne turned to Mal.

“Mal, let me introduce Mother Paris,” he said. Mother Paris stepped forward and shook Mal’s hand. The old lady’s iron grip made him think, yes, definitely an amazon. “I’m not really his mother, Sargent Reynolds. Course I’ve known his mother for thirty years. Back in the day, we ran a small business together, bounty work mostly. We used to trade off watching each other’s kids in between jobs.”

“So she became my other mother,” Jayne chimed in.

Mal responded with a string of guttural Chinese that roughly translated into “Well, I’ll be God damned.”

Jayne stepped forward and hissed into Mal’s ear, “Mal, would you watch the language! She’s like my mother!” This was just too strange for words, Mal thought.

One of her men stepped forward and whispered into Mother Paris’ ear. She turned back to the entrance of the bay, where a young man entered flanked by two rather large and serious looking bodyguards. Immediately, Mal knew there was something familiar about the young man.

“Sargent Reynolds, allow me to introduce you to my employer, Lord Clayton Jackson Deuville.”

“It’s Captain Reynolds,” Kaylee interjected.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Mother Paris said. “Captain Reynolds, Lord Deuville.”

That’s it, Mal thought. He’s General Deuville’s son, which makes sense since he’s got General Deuville’s ship. Young Lord Deuville, Mal surmised, couldn’t be much older that Inara. He wasn’t a large man, maybe 5’9”, but he looked like he could stand on his own in a fight. Mal figured he qualified as good looking, with his curly dark blond hair and blue eyes, cause the moment he stepped forward, Kaylee whispered. “Shiny,” she said.

Lord Deuville did not wear a sash or any of the other fancy gear one might expect from a member of nobility. He was dressed simply, in a dark brown shirt, brown trousers and well-worn boots. His side arm hung at his hip, with the heel of the gun turned out at an angle like a man would if he knew how to handle his weapon. “Please call me Clay,” he said, as he extended his hand to Mal. “May I call you Malcolm?”

“It’s Mal.” The men shook hands.

“Welcome aboard, Mal.” Turning back towards his men, Clay spoke out.

“Gentlemen, do you realize who we have here? This is one of the heroes of Serenity Valley, the great Sargent Malcolm Reynolds.” The men began to nod and some even attempted smiles. O.K., Mal thought, so maybe this job would turn out all right after all.

It was agreed that the entire crew would join Lord Deuville, Mother Paris and the other officers of the Pontchartrain for dinner. Given the opportunity of a real meal, Simon and River left the safety of Inara’s shuttle and joined the others. They were introduced, however, as Wash’s younger brother, Thomas and Mal’s niece, Claire, just to be safe. Mal was surprised that Inara drew no more than appreciative glances as she followed him on board the larger ship. The crew of the Pontchartrain seemed perfectly at ease in the presence of a Companion. The reason became apparent soon after they entered the dining room.

Clay dressed in a comfortable, but simple black dinner jacket, greeted them all at the door. Mother Paris was busy directing the kitchen staff who were setting out plates of real food on the large table before them. There were tomatoes, cheese, bread, eggs, strawberries and grapes. “Thank you for joining us for dinner,” Clay said, extended his arm towards the generous spread. “Please make yourselves at home. We can all have something to eat, then Mal, you and I can talk a little business.”

Mal turned as Inara stepped forward beside him.

“Clay,” he said, “allow me to introduce you to our three passengers.” Mal stopped mid-sentence as a stunningly beautiful woman entered the room from the other side. Tall, curved, and gracious in her appearance, with flowing blond hair and incredible green eyes, it was immediately apparent that this woman was also a Companion. Clay saw the change in Mal’s expression and without even turning he began,

“Allow me to introduce the jewel of this ship. . .” Before Clay could complete his introduction, Inara spoke.

“Maggie?” The woman looked at Inara with surprise and joy.

“Inara?”

The two companions hurried around the table. While they stood hugging each other, Clay finished his introduction.

“One of those beautiful creatures is my personal companion, Magdalena. I presume the other one belongs to you?” Mal, who was staring at the two women, turned his attention back to Clay.

“What? No. Inara doesn’t belong to . . . no; she’s our passenger. Actually, she’s our ambassador, if you know what I mean?”

Clay grinned. “Absolutely,” he replied.

Mal enjoyed the young lord’s banquet table as much as the rest of his crew, but he also recognized that they were being fattened like lambs for the slaughter. Mal was certain that Lord Deuville wasn’t as prosperous as he pretended which, of course, made him wonder how the man planned to pay them. The man clearly emptied his private stores for this little shindig. The way his own officers wolfed down the food in front of them, it was apparent they hadn’t fed like this in a while. Hell, some of them even kept pace with Kaylee. Mal figured they were probably living on the same standard issue protein packs that had served as breakfast, lunch and dinner for the Serenity’s crew. Earlier that evening, as the group was escorted through the ship, from the docking bay to the executive dining room, Mal spotted several passage doors that were permanently sealed off, obviously to save energy. When he glanced over towards Magdalena and Inara, Mal figured he knew where most of Lord Deuville’s money went. The jeweled necklace draped around Magdalena’s neck would have paid for enough fuel cells to keep his firefly in the air for almost a year. Clay’s crew might be eating protein bars, but he kept his Companion dressed in the best. Which once again drove the point home to Mal, the only way to keep a companion was to pay for her.

When the dinner plates were cleared, Clay brought out a dusty bottle of spirits. He said it was an old family recipe he liked to cook up called “sour mash.” Clay’s officers began to excuse themselves from the table. Simon, Kaylee, River and Book soon followed. The Companions had retreated to Magdalena’s cabin. Zoe remained in her seat next to Mal, waiting for the business talks to begin. Of course, the re-introduction of actual food was like an aphrodisiac to Wash, who was soon whispering things in his wife’s ear that brought forth Zoe’s sultry laugh. Having seen them like this before, Mal turned and asked her to go back and take responsibility for the ship, while he met with Lord Deuville. Soon, the only ones left at the table were Clay, Mal, Jayne and Mother Paris. Jayne’s eyes were glued on the bottle of sour mash. Before he could partake of a sample, however, Mother Paris put her arm on his shoulder.

“Jayne, bao bei,” she said. “I promised your mother we’d send her a wave the moment you arrived.” Jayne started to say something, then stopped himself. There was no way he was gonna argue with his “other mother.”

Once Jayne and Mother Paris left, Clay opened the bottle and poured two glasses of mash. “Now that you’ve met my crew, including our beautiful Magdalena,” he said, “grab your glass and let me show you around the family spread.”

Mal followed Clay out of the dining room into a long passageway. Even though Mal had lived in space for many years, he was still taken back by what he saw. The ceiling and the side panels of the passageway were clear and seamless, creating the sensation that you were standing outside of the ship without a suit.

“Ai ya, he mumbled to himself, causing Clay to grin.

“My father designed every inch of this ship,” said Clay, while he stood next to Mal in the passageway. “He realized back then that Pontchartrain would be more than a battleship. For several months at a time, it would also be home for hundreds of soldiers. He created these beautiful little pockets like this just for them.” At the end of the passageway, a pair of black alloy doors slid open to reveal a library. The walls were covered with dark wooden bookcases containing actual books. And, in the center of the room stood an enormous cherry wood antique desk. Clay offered Mal one of the two leather armchairs in front of the desk, while he walked around behind it to sit in an equally handsome leather desk chair. After topping off their glasses, Clay put the bottle down. He pushed a single button on the corner of the desk, and suddenly an entire bank of elegant bookcases folded into themselves, revealing an even more spectacular view of the stars.

“This was my father’s favorite place in the ship. It was also, unfortunately, the place where he blew his brains out,” Clay said, staring out into space, as if he were by himself. “We were told about that,” Mal said quietly, keeping his eyes fixed on his glass. “We didn’t know . . .”

“If it really happened?” Clay interjected. “My father realized, towards the end of the war, that there were more than a few influential Independents that believed they could speed up the peace talks by putting him into an early grave. The situation terrified my mother. She refused to leave his side. We were on the ship with him, when you were in Serenity Valley. It was my father that delayed the surrender, insisting that we be able to pull our soldiers out of the valley first. The other leaders of the Independent forces, niao se dub doo qway, didn’t see things his way.” Clay finished off his drink, then poured himself another. He paused for a moment to allow Mal to do the same. Mal had not discussed those last days in Serenity Valley with anyone, even Zoe, for years.

“There was only a couple hundred of us left,” he said, “when the Med Ships finally showed up. Out of my platoon of thirty, only Zoe and I survived. I know you folks up in the ships were getting pictures of the carnage, but I don’t think you could possibly . . . ”

“Understand,” Clay interrupted. “Oh, I understand better than you think. My father insisted on going down in one of the Alliance Medical Ships after the surrender. I don’t know what he thought he could do, but once he saw what was left down there, he stopped talking. He returned to our ship, locked himself away here in his library for a few days, then blew a three-inch hole in the back of his head.” Clay pointed to the door through which they entered.

“I walked in those doors and found him on the floor just beneath his window.” With a touch of the button, the view was gone.

“After Father died, they took all our land, even though my mother, his widow, was from an established Alliance family. Perhaps as a joke, they left me father’s ship, stripped down of course.” Clay suddenly stood and moved across the room.

“My mother wandered through these empty decks for a couple of months, after father died,” he continued. “Then, one day, she decided to join him, so she took stroll out one of the airlocks.” Clay slid his hand over a small control panel and opened up another door. Mal finished his sour mash, placed the glass on the corner of the desk.

“This hasn’t been a very happy place for you and yours,” Mal said without thinking. Clay responded with a sad smile.

“It’s had its moments,” he said. Mal followed his host into another passageway.

“I managed to scratch up a couple of fighters,” Clay said, “but that’s all, and I have two functional guns which we can use to defend ourselves against reavers and the like. As long as I keep the Pontchartrain away from the main planets and I don’t try to arm her anymore than I have already, the Alliance leaves us alone. I have a good-sized transport ship anchored on our bow. It gets us around Persephone, Ariel and the other places the Pontchartrain would not be welcome.”

Mal paused in the passageway. “It sounds like you’ve made the best of a bad situation,” he said. “So what do you need us for?”

“Let me show you,” Clay said. The door in front of them opened up on to reveal a large laboratory. Unlike the rest of the ship that was obviously older, but well preserved, everything in this room was state of the art. A single bookish fellow recorded figures from a panel of monitors that covered one entire wall. Across from him, against the farthest wall, stood three large white tanks.

“My father was a great strategist and ship builder, but his secret weapon was my mother. She was a brilliant chemist. I was five when she started bringing me into the lab. Since she died, I’ve put damn near every cent I’ve had into the completion of her most important project. Now, my family’s future sits over there in those three tanks.”

“Let me guess,” Mal quipped, “It’s more of your sour mash.”

Clay smirked, then walked over to one of the room’s many counters and picked up a beaker that contained a red jelly.

“Those tanks, Captain Reynolds, are filled with this . . . synthetic fuel.” Mal walked up to Clay and took the beaker in his hand, examining it.

“How does it work?” Mal asked.

“You inject this into a spent fuel cell and you’re back in the air. With the right equipment,” Clay continued, “I’ll be able to mass produce this stuff and sell it for half the price that the fuel companies are demanding right now. It will literally revolutionize travel.”

Still staring at the beaker in front of him, Mal added, “So what you’re telling me is that I could recharge all of Serenity’s fuel cells with a few liters off this stuff?”

“The Pontchartrain has been traveling on it for six months.”

“Jing zi,” Mal said, clearly impressed, “OK, you have my attention, so tell me how do we fit into this plan?”

“Yes.” Clay replied. Well that takes us back to Serenity Valley. About a month ago, I came across information that my father had hidden away.”

* * * * * * The crew met in the galley to hear about the job. Although Mal always made the final decision on whether to take a job, this time was different. Perhaps, not for the rest of them, but it was certainly different for him and Zoe. No matter how much money was at stake, there was no way he would agree to set foot in Serenity Valley without Zoe’s agreement, up front.

They all gathered around the table and listened. When Mal was finished talking, Book was the first to speak.

“So he wants you and Zoe to take a shuttle back into Serenity Valley and help him retrieve 1.2 million in platinum that his father supposedly hid there during the war,” Book said.

“More or less,” Mal responded, “we’re to locate it, then he’ll send a shuttle down to help us haul it off Hera.” Turning to Zoe, he added, “Apparently General Deuville thought we’d never give up Hera, let alone Serenity Valley. He took what was left of the war fund and hid it in the command center that was in that cave near our last stronghold.”

“Why doesn’t he take his own soldiers and retrieve the platinum himself? asked Kaylee. “Because he’s after something else,” replied River, speaking as always to herself. Her comment drew Mal’s attention. Although he still thought the girl was fong luh, she did seem to have an uncanny ability to read minds. Before he could ask her what she meant, though, Jayne spoke up.

“And how much of this platinum do we get to keep?” asked Jayne.

“Four Hundred Thousand,” said Mal, “plus enough synthetic fuel to keep us in the air for eighteen months.”

“Wow,” said Wash, his eyes, like Mal’s on Zoe who had yet to say a word.

“You know when you first indicated that this job might take you back to Hera,” said Book, ”Wash and I pulled up the current charts for that area.”

“The problem you’re gonna have, Mal, is that Hera is far from stable,” added Wash. “The Alliance hammered most of the moons in this outer ring with a lot more than surface bombs, in order to push the Independence Forces out of its support tunnels. They did so much damage, that most of the moons came apart or started to gradually implode. The debris we flew through on the way to this rendezvous probably came from a moon breaking up.”

“Right now, Mal,” Book continued, “Hera is experiencing almost constant seismic activity.”

“Well, I was pretty certain this wasn’t gonna be an easy Four Hundred Thousand. That’s the reason why Deuville wants us for the job,” Mal replied. “Zoe and I know the terrain better than just about anyone else alive. Who ever goes down there isn’t gonna have much time to explore. They’ll need to go in, and mark the goods for quick retrieval.”

Looking Mal in the eyes, Zoe finally spoke.

“Before all hell breaks loose,” she said.

“Yep,” Mal replied.

“Sounds bracing, sir,” she said. Mal looked at Zoe who shook her head and smiled ever so slightly. Mal grinned back at her. Good, he thought, the jobs on.

Inara watched from the doorway. The knowledge that she was leaving made her to feel less at home, and less comfortable participating in one of their crew meetings. If she had been asked to put in her two cents, Inara would have said that any scheme headed by two desperate men was destined for trouble. She knew that if Mal didn’t find money for fuel soon, he’d be forced to ground Serenity. And, after an evening spent with Maggie, Inara had a pretty good idea that Lord Deuville was just as desperate for his own set of reasons.

It had been five years since Inara and Maggie had seen one another. Inara was just a novice then, and Magdalena, “Maggie” to her closest friends, was one of the Academy’s most sought after graduates. Inara was surprised when she saw Maggie’s private study. It was much simpler than she would have envisioned for such a renowned Companion. The deep burgundy sofa that they shared was plush, but worn, as were the half dozen gold tapestry pillows that covered it. Where Inara would have expected to see small pieces of fine art, Maggie had placed a collection of photos taken of Clay and herself, and various members of the Pontchartrain crew. The room had the superficially elegant appearance of a Companion’s quarters, but when she looked closely Inara couldn’t help but think . . . well . . . Kaylee. Within moments of their entry into her private domain, Maggie changed out of her elegant gown and into a pair of simple black trousers and a silky black top. The jewelry was stripped away and dropped into a gold box on a small writing desk in the corner.

Maggie poured them both a cup of tea, absent-mindedly tossed a couple of sugar cubes into each cup, handed one to Inara and then curled up like a cat on the other end of the sofa.

“Is something troubling you, mei-mei?” Maggie asked. Inara did her best to hide the grin she was wearing behind her tea cup. “O.K., so maybe in my accelerated years, I’ve given up some of the Goddess’ rules about entertaining,” Maggie responded.

“What happened to the woman, who told me when I was sixteen that the independent and elegant life of a Companion is the greatest existence an intelligent woman could choose?” asked Inara.

“Wu de tyen ah, I was the Academy’s poster child back then, wasn’t I.”

“Until you found Clay,” Inara added.

“Until I found Clay,” Maggie responded. “We actually met,” she continued, “the first time, while I was still at the Academy.” Maggie leaned back into the pillows and gave Inara her most wicked grin. “I took his virginity and he took my heart. His father brought him there, during the war, just after his sixteenth birthday. I had just turned twenty-one. The old man figured that if he was gonna die in battle . . .”

“And then,” Inara began to ask.

“We saw each other again, three years later. One of his old friends from school snuck him into an Alliance Ball. I was there with some up and coming politician, but Clay and I couldn’t keep our eyes off each other. The next morning, this notorious traitor’s son had the nerve to show up outside my client’s home as I was leaving. He escorted me back to my apartment on Persephone, and well the rest is history.” “He seems to take good care of you, at least,” Inara said, nodding towards Maggie’s box of jewels. Maggie began to laugh.

“Oh Inara, don’t be fooled by that paste. We’re as poor as church mice. It takes every penny we have to keep this ship and Clay’s lab operating.” Maggie paused, choosing her next words carefully. “I’m hoping, praying, that your Malcolm will help Clay turn things around.”

“He’s not my Malcolm,” Inara interrupted.

“Oh, I’m sorry, he certainly looks domesticated.”

Now it was Inara’s turn to choose her words.

“Traveling with Serenity for the past year or so has been far different than what I expected when I left the Academy. The people on that ship have become a family. They really care for each other.” Inara paused, lost in the full meaning of that declaration and what it meant to her.

“Inara?” Maggie asked. Turning her attention back to her friend, Inara continued.

“Sorry, what I meant to say is that I still choose to live by the old code. The captain is a special man, but there has been nothing between the two of us and there won’t be. In fact, I decided a few weeks ago to leave Serenity.”

“So why are you still there,” asked Maggie.

“I just haven’t found the right place,” Inara responded.

“Jen dao mei, life as a Companion is not nearly as carefree as we once imagined, is it?” Maggie added. “I understand what you mean about the old code. It has its appeal. At least life is less complicated then. I will tell you, though, settling down to become Clay’s personal Companion -- that has been the best decision I’ve ever made.”

Pointing at the box of jewelry, Inara asked. “If you don’t care about all the pretense anymore, why does he buy you those extravagant fakes?”

“He bought me that paste, so we could attend private dinners with some of his alleged investors on Persephone. He has this master plan . . . one where we can actually raise enough money to settle down on one planet and start a family. He’s brilliant, Inara, and he works harder than any man, I’ve ever met. It’s just I’m afraid he’s starting to deal with some dangerous people. Your Malcolm, I mean Captain Reynolds, seems like an honest man. My prayer is that he’ll help Clay, before its too late.”

Inara put her cup aside, and leaned forward, resting her hand over her friend’s. “Mal will help you if he can, Maggie. That’s what he does, even if it nearly gets him killed. That’s who he is.”

Oddly enough on Serenity, Mal was enjoying the first decent night’s sleep he’d had in weeks. Zoe did not share this pleasure. She curled up in Wash’s arms until he fell asleep, then climbed out of bed and made her way to Serenity’s bridge. Even tucked into one of the Pontchartrain’s bays, the bridge of the Serenity still offered a spectacular view of the once great battleship. Zoe remembered when she saw the ship for the first time. She was still a teenager living by her wits in Cthulhu. The Pontchartrain had made a rare entry into her planet’s atmosphere, so it could make repairs and stock up on fuel and engine parts. Cthulhu was a small planet where such needs were met. Polluted skies covered her enormous ground lots filled with abandoned and broken down ships. Cthulhu was the planetary version of a truck stop.

While the Pontchartrain hovered above them, most of Cthulhu’s inhabitants recognized the enormous military ship for what it was -- a sign of coming war and destruction. What Zoe saw was freedom. She found her way to the saloon where supporters of Independence were gathering recruits. Although she was only seventeen, Zoe convinced them to let her sign up. The Pontchartrain left later that week without Zoe. Instead, she was transported from her home on a much smaller, older transport ship. They were mostly kids on that ship. Many of them scared, underfed and essentially parentless like Zoe. Packed in this can of wannabe soldiers, Zoe came to the unpleasant conclusion that she had made the worst decision of her short life. Then, a week later, they were unloaded on a desert moon. Standing just outside the ship was a group of veteran soldiers, perhaps no more than five or six years older than the young ones piling out onto the sandy earth. Among them was a tall, sociable sergeant named Malcolm Reynolds. Over the next three years, this man, who earned a reputation for being brave and more than slightly insane, would earn Zoe’s complete loyalty. To such an extent, she followed him faithfully to this day. If Mal was willing to step on to Hera once more, then Zoe would be by his side. That didn’t mean, however, that she wouldn’t lose sleep over the proposition.

Nestled into the arms of the Pontchartrain, Serenity made the trip to Hera in record time. Even from up above, they could all see that Wash’s information on Hera was up-to-date. The periodic and violent land shifts were actually visible from the sky. It was decided that with the sunrise, Mal, Zoe, and Jayne would take Serenity’s free shuttle to the coordinates provided by Clay. Once they located the cave, they would send the new coordinates to Clay, who would bring down a team to help clear out their share of the loot. The Pontchartrain set in a course to follow the slow rotation of the planet. While the platinum was being located below, Mother Paris would have a shipment of the synthetic fuel loaded onto Serenity. She would then separate from the battleship and wait for Mal, Zoe and Jayne to return with their share of the platinum. It was all pretty much cut and dry. Nothing to worry about, Mal thought. So why was he getting that sick feeling in the pit of his stomach that often arrived just before things went terribly wrong?

On the Pontchartrain, Lord Deuville was also on edge. He lay in his bed, holding his Magdalena, and staring up at the ceiling. His father always said that he became an Independent because things were either right or wrong. The Alliance, and all its greedy leaders, was just plain wrong. There were no gray areas in the old man’s life. Such ideals were a luxury Clay could not afford. In the world his father left behind, Clay saw very little but gray. There were limits as to how honorable a man could be and still protect his own.

A couple of hours before dawn, a light flashed on a panel situated on Clay’s bed stand. It alerted him to the arrival of an unpleasant, but necessary, wave he was expecting. Clay slipped out of bed and sat down before his private comm. console. Maggie sighed, and pulled the covers up around her, still pretending to be asleep. From their bed, she could not see the face of the man that Clay was talking to, but Maggie recognized the voice and picked up enough of the conversation to realize that this was bad.

On Serenity, Mal was sitting alone in the shuttle pilot’s chair checking the navigation entries, when he heard someone step through the hatch behind him.

“Quite a beautiful sight, isn’t it?” Book asked, just as the sun began to creep around the planet's edge.

“It’s not nearly as pretty from down there,” Mal replied.

“Yes,” said Book. “And yet, you and Zoe are going back?”

“It’s just a job, Shepherd.”

“That takes you back to a place where you lost so much, probably the place where you lost your very soul.”

“Ah,” Mal sighed, “I thought you and I had an understanding that my soul I was not among the ones you needed to keep an eye on.” Before Book could respond, Zoe stepped into the shuttle.

“Sir,” she said. “We’ve got a problem.” Mal followed Zoe into the infirmary where Jayne was stretched out on the operating table. He was lying on his side, alternately moaning and retching into a pan. Simon was giving him a shot, and an unhappy Kaylee kept hold of the pan, keeping her head turned the other way.

“Doc?” Mal said. “It looks like he’s got some kind of food poisoning,” Simon replied. “I’m not sure how, though, cause it hasn’t affected any of the rest of us.”

“He’s pretty much turned his stomach inside out,” added Kaylee, looking disgusted. Mal looked back at Simon, who just shook his head.

“He could be down for a few days, Mal,” he said. That was exactly what Mal didn’t need to hear.

Heading back out of the infirmary door, he mumbled to himself. “Hwoon dahn!" Zoe kept pace with him, while he made his way back to the cargo bay and the shuttles.

“You and I will have to go on without Jayne,” Mal said.

“Sir, we agreed that someone would need to stay with the shuttle while we tracked down the location of the cave.”

“Well, we don’t have someone to fill that job, do we?,” snapped Mal. “Wash is our only other pilot and we need him on Serenity.” A voice from behind Mal and Zoe surprised them both.

“Wash isn’t your only shuttle pilot, Mal.” Mal and Zoe turned around to find Inara standing on the walkway. Mal stopped and looked at Inara for a moment, then just as quickly he spun around and walked towards the other shuttle.

“No way,” was all he said.

“Mal,” Zoe said, “we can’t leave the shuttle unmanned down there, not with the ground shifting every hour or so.”

“You could come back and find a ravine and no shuttle,” Inara added. “Then, I’d have to come and pick you up anyway.”

“Besides Mal,” Zoe continued, “we both know, she’s probably the best shuttle pilot we have.”

As the sun reached the landing sight, Mal and Zoe took off in the second shuttle with Inara at the controls. Thirty minutes later, they reached the coordinates of what was once the heart of Serenity Valley. Mal began to search for landmarks but he couldn’t find any from the air. It was all rocks and dirt. The buildings were long gone, as well as anything that might have indicated where the land was once divided between two warring parties. They finally touched down on a flat sandy surface, just a few hundred yards away from where they hoped to find the cave and a hidden Independent vault. When the three of them stepped out of the shuttle, the ground beneath them began to shudder. It continued for thirty seconds or so, then stopped. Mal turned to Inara, and gently took her elbow in his hand.

“Please don’t leave the shuttle, OK?,” he said. Inara brushed his arm away.

“I’ll be fine, Mal.”

Zoe tapped Mal on the shoulder and pointed in the distance to a familiar ridge. Turning back to Inara, he added.

“We’ll radio you as soon as we find the cave.” Inara nodded and Mal took off in a jog after Zoe, who was already twenty paces ahead of him.

Watching them disappear in the distance, Inara spoke to herself, “please come back safe.”

* * * * * * * * On board Serenity, Wash and Kaylee were preparing for separation from Pontchartrain. Since the ship was not yet powered up, they did not notice the small cruiser that was approaching the battleship from the far side. Mother Paris arrived at their door to check up on her ill Jayne and to notify them that their containers of synthetic fuel would be ready within the hour. Jayne had not moved from the infirmary. Although he had nothing left in his stomach, the sickness made him too weak to even try to get up and return to his own bunk. Mother Paris seemed particularly upset by how poorly he felt. He could never remember her being that doting when he got sick as a kid. She continually offered to let him stay in her quarters on Pontchartrain. She even offered to fix him broth, which was surprising because he didn’t think she knew how to cook. Deck and handcuff an escaped felon in sixty seconds, fine, but make chicken broth, now that was something he’d have to see to believe. Nevertheless, Jayne made it perfectly clear that he wasn’t moving for the time being. After Simon checked his vitals, he left Jayne alone with Mother Paris. It was then that she made an even more surprising proposal.

“Your crewmates seem nice and competent, Jayne,” she said, “but you don’t really plan on running with such criminals for the rest of your life, do you?” Jayne just stared at Mother Paris, uncertain of how he should respond to the question.

“I’ve spoke to Lord Deuville, Jayne, and if you will move over to the Pontchartrain with me today, he’ll accept you as part of his crew.” Just then Book entered the infirmary to check on his friend.

“Well hello, Mother Paris,” he said, with a broad smile. Mother Paris returned his greeting with equal warmth.

“Hello Shepherd Book, and how are you this fine day?”

“Very fine, and how is our patient doing?” he continued. Mother Paris looked back down at Jayne and responded.

“That’s to be seen, but I think he’ll be O.K.” Whispering to Jayne, she said. “I’ll be back in about an hour. Think about what I said.” Then, turning back to Book, she said “I’ll leave him in your hands for the time being.” And with that, Mother Paris swept out the door. Book couldn’t help but notice the strange look on Jayne’s face.

“Is everything OK, Jayne?” Book asked. For a moment, Jayne ignored him, and then he turned to Shepherd with a frighteningly serious face.

“No,” Jayne said, “Something is seriously wrong. We’ve got to reach Mal and Zoe now.”

On the surface of Hera, Mal and Zoe had reason to celebrate. They had found the control center, hidden as they remembered in a large cave. A portion of the front of the cave had tumbled down, but it was still possible to reach the inside. Mal hailed Inara, who sent the coordinates to the Pontchartrain, then lifted off in the shuttle to move to their location.

Mal laced the inside of the cave with torches. It illuminated banks of broken down equipment and a large metal door that he presumed was the vault. Common sense told him that the vault door would be locked, but curiosity made him try it anyway. He pulled hard on the handle and remarkably the door slid open. Mal and Zoe exchanged looks. This wasn’t a good sign. Zoe snapped open another fluorescent torch and they entered the vault. Inside the vault, there were several steel crates. All of them were empty and lying open. At the very back of the vault, they found three locked antique chests. Mal paused to consider his next step.

“Sir, I say we blow the locks off of them,” said Zoe from behind him.

“Yeah, I have to agree,” he replied. Mal pulled out his revolver and turned the first lock into sparks and sheared metal. Zoe pulled out her shotgun and did the same to the other two. Of course, now that they had taken care of the locks neither one of them wanted to open the chests. Both of them knew that these old trunks did not contain the treasure they had been hired to retrieve. Mal kicked open the first trunk with his boot. It was filled with black bound books -- the journals of General Deuville. Mal looked at Zoe and they simultaneously kicked open the other two chests. At first Mal didn’t recognize their contents. Both chests were filled with paper, then Mal realized what he was looking at and began to laugh. Sometimes you just have to laugh to keep from crying. The chests were filled with paper money, Independent money, which made it utterly worthless paper money.

Mal and Zoe climbed out of the cave as Inara landed the shuttle outside. She opened up the hatch and stepped outside to greet them. Her beautiful face, Mal thought, was at least one positive thing in this luh-suh day. As they walked toward each other the ground began to shake violently, and Inara’s worse case scenario came true. An enormous fissure opened up directly below them. The shuttle tipped onto its side, so the hatch was pointed almost towards the sky. First, Inara was standing there in front of Mal, then she was gone. Without thinking, Mal slipped into the gaping crack in the ground after her. When things finally stopped moving, Zoe rushed to the edge of the enormous ravine that had swallowed Inara and Mal and began to yell out their names. At first there was nothing, then she heard a voice from below.

“Zoe,” Mal yelled.

Zoe screamed out. “Mal, are you alright? Do you have Inara?”

“We’re on a shelf about a hundred feet down,” he replied. Just then, the earth began to shake again, forcing Zoe to push away from the ledge.

“Zoe, Inara’s hurt,” Mal yelled. “We’re going to need help getting her out of here.” About hundred feet behind Zoe, the Pontchartrain’s shuttle touched down for a landing. Clay, his two bodyguards, and another man, Zoe didn’t recognize, disembarked from the shuttle.

“There was a quake,” she cried out, “Mal and Inara are trapped down there. It looks like we’ll need to bring Inara up in a stretcher.” No one in the group moved a muscle, except for the unknown man standing next to Lord Deuville. He stepped forward, laughing.

“This is priceless,” he said. “I couldn’t have imagined a better ending. Are you telling me the earth has actually opened up and swallowed them.” Zoe gave the man a look that made it clear another word might end him. The two bodyguards pulled their guns and approached Zoe on both sides.

“I’m sorry, Zoe,” said Clay. “If there was any other way. Mr. Wing here requires your captain and Miss Serra in exchange for my family and my crew’s entire future. Mal would understand, I’ve got to take care of my own.”

“Oh, bi zuie, Deuville,” the man snapped.

“If you’ll just cooperate Zoe, the rest of you can leave safely on the Serenity,” Clay continued. The bodyguards disarmed Zoe, and made her back away, as the stranger stepped forward and leaned down over the mouth of the ravine.

“Malcolm Reynolds are you down there?” he said. “Have I actually lived to see the day that you and that whore are buried alive?” Malcolm looked up towards the mouth of the ravine, waiting for the dust to settle, so he could see who was yelling at them. Mal had placed Inara, who was unconscious, against the inside of the shelf. He felt Inara’s hand weakly grasp his own. He turned as she forced out the words.

“Atherton Wing,” she said. Mal stared at her, at first not remembering, then his expression changed.

“I should have killed that wang bao dahn with his own sword, when I had the chance.”

On the Pontchartrain, Mother Paris was following orders. She stood with a crew of her best men outside the cargo bay of Serenity, allegedly there to deliver their synthetic fuel. Her real mission, however, was to subdue Serenity’s crew until its Captain and the beautiful young companion were turned over to that pompous ass, Atherton Wing. From what she heard, Reynolds had humiliated the man in sword fight on Persephone and Wing never lived it down. He was out for blood. Unfortunately, he was also powerful and knew enough about her lord’s plans to take away everything they’d worked for. Wing threatened to persuade the Alliance leadership to snatch up the formula and his lab as undiscovered spoils of war. Mother Paris knew that Clay had no choice but to make a deal with the devil.

Right on time, Kaylee opened up the hatch and welcomed Mother Paris and her men. They carried in five empty cases. Once inside, Mother Paris stopped in the middle of the cargo bay and looked up. Standing on the walkways above, she saw Wash, Book, Simon and her Jayne holding weapons on them. She smiled at Jayne.

“How did you know?” she asked.

“Wasn’t that hard,” he replied. “You poisoned me, didn’t you?”

“I’m sorry, Jayne. It was the bourbon balls. I couldn’t let you go down with them on the shuttle.” Jayne just grumbled, then spoke for the group.

“Do you have our Captain?” he asked. Just then, Maggie stepped through the hatch, dressed in dark fatigues.

“No, but he’s in trouble,” she said. Turning to her own people, she continued, “Mother, we have a new plan.”

**** Mal pushed himself back against the wall of the ravine and pulled Inara up into his arms. “I knew I had a good reason for not bringing you along on this job,” he said. Inara began to softly laugh, then cried out from the pain.

“Sorry,” Mal replied, “I imagine you’ve broken a few ribs. I’ll get you out of here soon.”

“I’m glad, I came,” she said, smiling up at Mal. “If it’s time . . .” she began to say.

Mal pulled her closer, and said,“shhh . . .”

“I mean,” she said, now struggling to breath, “if something had happened to you down here, I couldn’t . . . ” The ground began to shake again, and Mal leaned forward to protect Inara from the dust and rock spray. When things quieted this time, he looked down at her face and saw that she was unconscious again. Wing had stopped taunting them from above, so he figured they’d taken Zoe and left them on their own to die. He always knew that someday either he or Zoe would be taken down. They were soldiers who both accepted this eventuality. He hoped that Deuville would set the others down on a safe planet somewhere. Wing had no quarrel with them. He might even let them take off on Serenity, but that was probably being overly optimistic. Mal had to believe that they’d be OK. Looking down at Inara, Mal realized that she wouldn’t last much longer. For the first time in as long as he could remember, Mal Reynolds began to feel true desperation. He could handle his own death, but not hers.

“OK,” Mal mumbled to himself. “I know you and I parted company on this rock years ago. I don’t know if you even bother to listen to me anymore, but I’m begging you,” he said, and he began to choke on the words. “Take anything you want from me, but let her live. Please God, let her live.”

Lord Deuville had returned to his shuttle. He sat there alone, while Wing and the two thugs Wing had assigned to him explored the cave and Serenity’s upturned shuttle. There was no reason to stay here. The vault was just a ruse. He was surprised to find his father’s journals inside. He couldn’t bear to look at them, though. Considering the man he had become, Clay would have found his father’s words too painful. The money for his plants was coming from Wing and his associates. There was no treasure in Serenity Valley. Zoe was handcuffed and gagged and placed in the back of the shuttle. He knew she was staring at him, but he couldn’t look back. He never imagined himself capable of this kind of betrayal. Wing kept pacing back and forth near the edge of the ravine. The sick bastard was obviously hoping that he’d be there when another quake filled in the ravine and buried Malcolm and Inara. Clay hoped that the ground would shake just enough to throw Wing into the ravine and to the hell he so richly deserved. Clay was brought back from his dark fantasy by the image on the shuttle’s main control screen in front of him. He saw that another one of his shuttles was joining them. A few moments later, it landed twenty feet away. Clay stepped outside, as Maggie, Mother Paris, and Jayne climbed out of the other shuttle. Wing and the bodyguards returned to Clay. Maggie approached them smiling.

“Atherton,” she cooed. “I can’t believe you docked with our ship, and didn’t let me know you were with us.” Wing smiled. His arrogance when it came to women was monumental. While Maggie approached Wing, Mother Paris dropped one of the bodyguards with a fist to the throat. Jayne took care the other bodyguard with virtually the same move. Atherton Wing looked down to see that Maggie was pointing a small pistol at his chest. Clay stepped forward.

“Maggie, ye soo, what are you doing?” Clay demanded.

“What I should have done a long time ago. I’m stopping you. Nothing is worth cutting a deal with this monster.”

“Maggie,” Clay pleaded. “I either cooperate with Wing or he’ll have the Feds take the ship and everything in the lab. We’ll be homeless.”

“You’re not a murderer, Clay. You won’t be able to live with yourself, if you do this. And, I won’t be able to live with you.”

“You’re a fool, Deuville,” snapped Wing, staring straight at Clay “allowing some tchen wah to destroy everything you’ve worked for.” Turning his attention back to Maggie, he continued. “So, Magdalena, where do we go from here? Are you prepared to shoot me?”

Maggie stepped back and lowered her pistol.

“No,” she said. “You can take your two trained monkeys and return to the Pontchartrain and your own ship.” Wing and his bodyguards climbed into the now empty shuttle. Before he closed the door, Wing called out.

“I hope you find this planet hospitable, Deuville, it’s your new home. That go se ship of yours won’t be in the air for long.”

Magdalena turned and wrapped her arms around Clay, who whispered in her ear. “Bao bei, do you understand what you just did?”

“Absolutely,” she replied. In front of them, Mother Paris was helping Zoe lower a stretcher down into the ravine for Inara.

“I think it’s time, Clay, that we let your father and the Pontchartrain rest in peace.”

“What?” he replied?

“I moved our entire crew, your lab and all the fuel, except for what you promised Serenity, to our transport ship. I figured they were entitled to at least a couple years of synthetic fuel supplies for the trouble we put them through. We’re docked with them on the other side of Hera.”

“What about Pontchartrain?” Clay asked, beginning to understand the gravity of what Maggie was telling him.

“It’s filled with way too many ghosts, my love” she replied. “We can take our transport ship and our crew to one of the outer moons and start small. We can sell your fuel to the people who really need it. Who cares if it takes us a few years to build our business, as long as we’re all together.” Clay walked to the edge of the ravine, and helped them pull Inara to the surface. Zoe wrapped a blanket around her and they carried her to the larger shuttle. Mother Paris brought the Serenity’s shuttle around, while they dropped a rope to Mal. When he reached the surface, Clay put out his hand. Mal stared at him for a moment, then took it and allowed Clay to pull him up.

“So where’s you business partner,” Mal asked. Before Clay could answer, there was a bright flash in the sky. Mother Paris stepped up beside the two men.

“That would be the burial of one great old battleship, and one meaningless Alliance cruiser, I presume,” said Clay.

“I won’t lie to you my lord, I helped Magdalena set the charges,” said Mother Paris. Clay shook his head and Mal laughed.

“You must really love that woman,” he said. “Like you wouldn’t believe,” Clay replied.

* * * * * * * Inara remained unconscious for three days. When she finally woke up, she was in Serenity’s infirmary and Mal was by her side. She was still in a great deal of pain, so Simon kept her too drugged to speak coherently. She looked up at Mal and wished that there were some way to convey just how much this experience had taught her. He just smiled at her, lifted her hand, and kissed it. For the first time, Inara knew in her heart that there was nothing she wanted more than to be with him. The words would have to come later. There would be time, Inara thought, and then she drifted back off to sleep. Anyone who entered the infirmary during those first few days could tell that Mal, himself, had not climbed out of that ravine unscathed. Perhaps, he wasn’t physically injured, but he was in pain.

On the fifth day, after Simon told him that Inara was out of the woods, Mal joined Wash and Zoe on the bridge. Unwilling to even make eye contact with Zoe, for fear that she might see what was hiding underneath, Mal stared into space.

“We’re gonna change our course,” he finally said. “I want you to take us to Sihnon.” Wash looked up at Mal surprised.

“Did Inara ask to go there?” Wash replied. Mal shook his head.

“Nah, the Doc says she won’t be fully conscious for some days. Doesn’t matter though, we’re taking her home.”

“Mal,” Wash began, intending to find out what was going on, but Zoe put her hand on his shoulder -- signaling him to let it go. Mal finally looked at both of them and offered the best explanation he had. “I can’t let her get hurt again. I just can’t let that happen.” Zoe nodded, and Wash turned his attention back to the controls, making the navigation changes that its captain requested. And in the dark and silent space, the firefly, Serenity, burned bright.