The Treasure of Lei Fong Wu

Chapter Twenty Nine

“River?” Simon called out, his voice anxious with worry, as his sister came into the cargo hold, crowded with large metal cylinders, with Johnny and Kaylee flanking her. Kaylee looked stricken, and Johnny looked determined. River looked dazed, but no more than usual. Simon strode up to her and whisked off the baseball cap she wore, handed it off to Johnny without a glance, handed his medical case to Kaylee, and examined River’s face carefully. “River, are you all right?” he asked, breathless. “Wash said that there had been – that something had happened!” “I’m shiny,” she assured. “No physical damage, no emotional trauma, and mentally speaking I’ve had more disturbing times with my breakfast cereal,” she said, confidently. Once Simon was himself assured that she was unhurt, he swept her into a big hug. “There was a man, a cop, I think,” Kaylee said, distressed. “Oh, Simon, I’m so sorry! I said I’d protect her, but I never thought anyone would come for her here, ‘cause no one knew we were headed here, but there was and—” “He was a bounty hunter, I think,” added Johnny. “But he just burst into the store with a gun and started screamin’, an’ River was tryin’ to tell me that he was comin’ but I just thought she had gone all cuckoo again because of the subliminals and the pheromones—” “Simon,” River croaked under his embrace. “You’re . . . crushing . . . me . . .” “Oh, sorry,” he said, letting her breath. He looked at Kaylee, eyebrow raised. “Subliminals? Pheromones? Just what kind of store did you take my teen-aged sister to?” he demanded. “Shoes! I swear, it weren’t nothin’ illicit! Just shoes!” she said, thrusting her new pumps at him to demonstrate. “It was horrible,” Johnny said, his face grim. “Everywhere you looked, there was . . . shoes. In all sizes. Enough to keep a woman busy for . . . for weeks,” he said. Simon gave him an extended look, then turned back to Kaylee. “She said he – this man, this bounty hunter – was coming?” “You know how she is, her knowin’. She musta read him while he was outside. She starts hollerin’ about a hunter, an’ starts babblin’ ‘bout all sortsa nonsense, an’ then he was there with a gun, an’ I didn’t get mine out fast enough, an’ he was screamin’ somethin’ powerful, an’ Simon I’m so sorry!” she babbled. “She would have just got herself shot,” Johnny said, shaking his head. “If she drew her gun. That guy was a pro. Military, or a cop with tactical training. Big, mean and ugly.” “So how did you get away?” Simon asked, getting upset again. “The Prince came to our rescue,” River said dreamily. “I’ve always wanted to rescue a Prince,” she added. “He came in swingin’ that bat like an avengin’ angel, he did,” Kaylee said, her voice full of admiration. “Knocked his big ass gun over the fence, then bunted him into unconsciousness!” “Naw, that wasn’t more than a double,” Johnny said, his face coloring a bit. “Double, hell! That was a homer if I ever saw one!” she insisted. “In a short field, maybe,” Johnny conceded. Simon looked back and forth from one to the other. “I don’t know what you two are talking about – but what happened after that?” “We got out of there before the cops showed up,” Johnny answered. “Went to ground. Hid out until they left, then slunk back here.” “Oh, don’t be modest,” Kaylee said, shaking her head. “He was wonderful! Got us lost in a way that no one’d notice us. We wandered around a bit, and he got us all safely to another shop – a restaurant – and we had this disgusting pie thing with kidneys, and the best gorram beer I ever drunk, an’—” Simon cut her off with a wave, and looked Johnny in the eye. “Thank you,” he said, seriously. “Thank you for taking care of my mei mei. I owe you.” “It was nothing,” he said, looking abashed. “Simon?” Kaylee asked, her voice wavering. “Can you . . . can you forgive me? I mean, I was supposed to be . . .” Simon looked at the engineer, his mind working. Finally he sighed. “It isn’t your fault, Kaylee. I suppose this sort of thing is going to happen now, every now and then. No one got hurt. Nothing got broken. I can’t very well keep River in a cage. As long as there are heroes around who can protect her, I guess she’s—” “Johnny kissed me,” River mentioned casually. No one said anything. Johnny’s face colored even more. “And it was really good, too.” “You . . .” Simon began, and stopped, unsure what to say. “Oh, this is awkward,” Johnny said. “We were waiting for Kaylee to join us on the corner and two security guys passed by. We were outside a candy store, and there were some other . . . young people around. I didn’t want them to get a good look at River, so I . . . I kissed her,” he said, simply. “You kissed my sister,” Simon stated. “I didn’t mean it,” Johnny mumbled. “Yes you did,” River said, giggling. “Oh my goodness! Da bien wa!” Kaylee said, smiling. “I was just trying to protect her,” he said defensively. The way Kaylee and Simon were looking at him – and the way River very much wasn’t, was starting to make him uncomfortable. “They couldn’t see her face, you know, um . . .” “With your face in it?” Simon finished, his voice a little tense. Before anyone could fill the awkward silence Inara came through the door carrying two large, ungainly packages. “Can someone help me get these up to my shuttle?” she asked. Kaylee handed Simon back his medkit, although he was still staring at Johnny. Johnny decided Inara needed his help too, and she smiled at them warmly as they each took a package about the size and rough shape of a guitar case. It wasn’t unusual for Inara to bring musical instruments aboard, as she had to keep in practice, she said. “He put his tongue in my mouth, too!” River whispered enthusiastically to Simon, who suddenly looked at River, then at Johnny, and then at River, before his hardened face settled back on the Sinic boy. “Hey, ’Nara! Find any good’uns?” Kaylee asked. “One or two,” Inara admitted, hesitantly, handing her one of the packages. “And at least one that was rather . . . interesting. But I’m not sure he’s quite ready for me yet.” “Too young? Too old?” Kaylee asked eagerly. “Details!” “He . . .he just isn’t really in my usual price range.” “C’mon, ‘Nara, sure you can give him a discount? I mean, if you like him an’ all!” Kaylee said. “Kinda a loss leader?” Kaylee had become quite the merchant since Wuhan. She had been reading up on it. “Um, it isn’t that simple,” the Companion said, biting her lip the tiniest bit. “What’s with all the cargo?” she asked, looking at the very full hold. “Them’s fuel cells,” explained the engineer. “Don’t we have a fuel tank for that sort of thing?” “It’s full. These’re extras. Took on quite a bit o’ food and provision, too. Long trip comin’.” “Um, aren’t those . . . dangerous? Explosive?” “Oh, it ain’t like shuttle fuel. Ain’t real dangerous ‘less you blow the insides of the cell. Then it might get right noxious,” she said, shaking her head. “Ai ya, what’s in this thing?” Johnny asked, hefting the case a few times. “I’ll show you later. Impulse buy,” she said mysteriously. Then she frowned. “Mal said we might be leaving in a hurry – again – so I thought I’d get back here before anything happened.” “What, is there going to be trouble?” Simon asked. “The Captain didn’t get into another swordfight, did he?” “You were just complainin’ th’other week that you didn’t get enough lacerations,” Kaylee pointed out. “No – at least, not that I’m aware of. I guess it is still fairly early,” she conceded. “He said that someone was looking for River and that we should get ready to travel quickly.” Simon paled. “River? So he does expect trouble,” he said as yet another mantle of anxiety settled over him “Damn straight,” came a voice from the front of the bay. Jayne walked out of the forward corridor, festooned with lethal hardware and wearing an armor vest. “We gonna have some company afore long, Cap’n s’spects. Kaylee, you get back to your powder room and heat’r up. ‘Nara, Cap says you should lock down and button up. Doc, you and Mooney get in th’ other shuttle. Run preflight, an’ stay put. They get past us, you bolt, head for the clouds. Mayhap they go after y’all, leave us the hell alone.” “The Captain said that?” Simon asked suspiciously. “He woulda sent a carrier pigeon but they’s thin on the ground in these parts,” he said, curling his lip in a sneer as he came down the stairs. He looked at Simon thoughtfully and handed him the black-and-silver automatic he favored. “Don’t shoot your pecker off,” Jayne cautioned. The Doctor took it gingerly, starting to realize the gravity of the situation. Making sure the safety was on, he tucked it carefully in his waistband. And safely away from his pecker. “Are you sure about this?” he asked. “What does Zoë say?” “She says move your ass,” Zoe said, coming out of the forward section as she checked the load on her lever-action rifle. She was wearing her matched semi-autos in shoulder holsters, her usual side-arm shotgun, her safety glasses, and her armored vest. Simon started to say something, thought better of it. Instead he looked perplexed. “Just one problem,” he said, a little embarrassed. “I . . . I don’t know how to fly. An aerospace shuttle, that is, I can handle a hover,” he amended. “I just . . . never had occasion to learn.” “Looks like you do now,” Zoe said, shaking her head. Before Simon could object, River rolled her eyes and grabbed his sleeve. “Come on, wonder boy, I’ll fly.” “What, you know how to fly?” he asked skeptically. “When did you learn how to fly?” “Rowan taught me,” River said, simply. “I can do it – it’s just dancing, with engines. In the Sky, in the Black, between the clouds . . . get whatever you’re going to get and meet me up there.” She sounded almost eager. Simon looked around for assistance – or at least sympathy. It was bad enough that his sister had been attacked and nearly captured within hours of landing here, that she had kissed a boy – a man, he amended – that they were expecting immanent attack and he had been armed to help repel it. The prospect of allowing his brain-damaged sister behind the stick of a twenty-ton shuttle was just too much. Kaylee smiled and blew him a cute little kiss and headed back to the engine room, leaving Inara’s package in a pile under the stairs. Inara raised her eyebrows in an expression that clearly signaled her relief that she didn’t have to be River’s passenger. Johnny just shrugged sheepishly, which earned him a glare. “Johnny, you wanna play?” Jayne inquired. “I already warmed up,” he agreed. Jayne looked at him, up and down like a tailor appraising a customer for a suit. He grunted and unslung one of the many firearms he carried. “You look more like a submachine gun man,” he said. “’Sides, Wash called dibs on th’scattergun.” “Yeah, that’ll be fine,” Johnny said, taking the little black weapon. He removed the magazine and slid back the bolt, inspecting it. “Grab yourself a vest from that locker, yonder, and I’ll give you a couple more magazines.” “When do you think something will happen?” Simon asked nervously. “Could be any time,” Zoe said. “What’s all the fuss?” Shepherd Book called out over the railing of the catwalk. “Folk sound excited.” “Change in plan, Shepherd,” Zoe said. “Someone gigged River in town, and Johnny had to bust someone’s face – bounty hunter, apparently, not law-enforcement. They’re lookin’ for her now. Captain thinks they’ll try to take her here. We’re just bein’ cautious.” “I see. I’ll put some coffee on – we might be up for a while,” he said, and returned to the kitchen. Zoe stood in front of a large crate and began checking the loads on all of her weapons as Johnny came back, strapping on a vest. “Now, you ain’t ever fought with us before,” she began in a confident tone, “but it ain’t somethin’ we’re a stranger to. While we’re waitin’ for the Captain to return, we’re gonna break up into patrols and keep a sharp eye out. No one puts their gorram gun down long enough to pee. Now there’s really only two ways they can come at us, in here, and that’s through the main hatch here and through the dorsal hatch.” As she said that, Jayne went to the control panel and closed the ramp. “I want at least one of us in here at all times. Best positions to cover the door are there and there on the catwalk, and you can take up a defensive position with decent cover behind the space suit locker and back there, behind that tool kit. All this fuel in here, it makes me nervous but there ain’t much we can do about that now.” “Why ain’t we just hittin’ sky?” Jayne asked. “That’d be the smart thing t’do.” “Because the Captain didn’t tell us to hit sky,” Zoe shot back. “He told us to sit here and prepare for an attack. I expect he’s got his reasons. Probably got a plan all worked out.” “Yeah, that’s what I’m afraid of,” grumbled Jayne. “What about my uncles?” “I’d wager that’s what the Captain is tending to right now. Wash said he tracked an unmarked shuttle come in about an hour ago and land in the area where the General said his safe-house was. If I had to guess, I’d say that your uncle’s ship has got in. Which is good, ‘cause we’re probably gonna need his help with this. He has connections, locally, and I’m guessin’ that someone’s going to try to put a nav lock on us to keep us still. Probably already done it. Maybe the General can help. I figure that’s what the Captain is tryin’ to set up, ‘cause he ain’t gonna let that happen.” “Scared, kid?” Jayne asked, his tone wavering between genuine concern and condescension. “You kidding?” Johnny asked, as he slid his bat into the back of his vest, so that the handle stuck up over his right shoulder. “Shoe shopping scares me. This . . . this is just fun!” “You’re nuts,” Zoe said, shaking her head. “Then he’s my kinda nuts,” Jayne said, grinning. “Let’s see what you can do without a herd o’ mastodons around, for a change,” he laughed. Then he dug in his pocket and pulled something out. “Jerky?”

*

*

*

They came three hours later. Wash detected them first. He was sitting up in the cockpit with the lights off when the alarm they had rigged to the motion sensor outside went off. He checked the monitors for a few moments, then picked up the pickup. “Attention Travelers: party crashers are comin’. At least six, four coming in the front door, two on our flanks and one hanging back – I’m guessing that’s our bad guy. Time to wake up the bouncer,” he murmured into it. While dark, his board was hot, and the engines were warmed. He could have Serenity airborne in moments. “Be careful, baby,” he whispered to himself. * Jayne headed back towards the cargo hold after checking on Kaylee, and on the way he passed Book, who was sitting in the kitchen reading his Bible. “Might wanna say a verse or two for me, Shepherd,” he said on his way back through. “We got everythin’ buttoned up, pretty much, but you never know when it’s gonna be your lucky day.” “I got you covered,” he said, turning the page. “Just in case they override the lock on the dorsal hatch, though,” he said, trying to keep his concern out of his voice. He pulled a battered but serviceable .45 revolver from behind his back and set it on the table within arm’s reach. “I won’t be needing that, son,” Book said mildly. “Didn’t say you would. I just thought I might leave it here, in case I need it later.” “It’s your gun,” agreed Book. “Thanks.” “Not a problem, preacher. I don’t know if I could rightly live with myself, anything happened to you.” “It’d take an awful lot to take me out, son. Your concern does you credit, though.” “Just lookin’ out for my people,” he said as he headed for the hold. “Bide a moment,” Book called. Jayne stopped and turned around. “You need somethin’?” Book nodded and closed his eyes, raising his hand palm forward towards Jayne. He whispered a few dozen words under his breath, and finished by making the sign of the cross. “There.” “Thanks, Book!” Jayne said, a little relieved. He nodded at the preacher and left. “Not a problem, son,” he said quietly. “I don’t know if I could rightly live with myself, anything happened to you.”

*

As Wash’s voice faded from his headphones, Simon looked at River, who was slouched in the pilot’s chair. She had an almost serene expression on her face as she mumbled to herself incoherently. “It’s happening,” he said. “I know,” she replied. “You seem to be taking this rather calmly,” he said sourly. “How do you want me to act?” “A little fear would be nice. Maybe some panic. Anxiety before an inevitable attack would just be good thinking in some circles.” “Insanity is very liberating that way,” River soothed dreamily. “And your drugs have kept me lucid for months, now. Besides, once you’ve had sadistic wang ba dan jabbing needles into your brain over and over and over again . . .” “I guess this would seem rather tame in comparison,” admitted Simon. “It’s actually the guilt that’s the worst,” she said, contemplatively. “The idea that everyone on Serenity is putting their lives at risk for us – for me.” “They’re outlaws,” Simon assured her. “They do this kind of thing all the time. They’re used to it.” River sighed, swiveling in her seat. She pulled her harmonica from somewhere and started blowing on it tunelessly, in, out, in, out, with every breath. “You know,” Simon observed, “I think you’re better company when you’re catatonic.” River’s tempo and tune – or lack thereof – did not change. Simon tried to ignore it, pulling up a cortex link on the monitor. After three more minutes, however, he gave her an evil stare. “I am armed, you know,” he said. River looked at him and rolled her eyes. The noise continued. Simon tried to ignore it again. When he was just about ready to explode, River stopped. “Finally!” he said, frustrated. “I was about to launch into a murderous rage—” “Hold that thought,” River whispered. A shot rang out, followed by a distant-sounding explosion. A plume of smoke rose in front of the shuttle. “You might need it,” she assured.

*

Zoe had left the personnel hatch in the cargo hold unlocked on purpose. Johnny had asked her about it – wasn’t Serenity a natural fortress against small-arms fire, after all? The thick hull that kept the Black at bay was surely adequate for stopping bullets. She had explained that he was correct – but if they sealed the hatch against their foes, then their foes would use more aggressive means to gain entry, means that Serenity might not be able to withstand. This way they would try to invade and infiltrate, which was something the crew could deal with. She had also ordered Jayne to string a spare nylon cargo net over the hatch, something else that Johnny didn’t understand. Until they came. He was in position behind the spacesuit locker when he heard a noise of scraping metal in the darkness. The hatch was opening. He prepared to repel the invaders, taking a firm grip on the old submachine gun he had borrowed, but was determined to wait for Zoe’s command. His combat experience had been strictly the street variety, though he understood basic tactics. That being said, he also understood that the crew knew best how to deal with the defense of Serenity – he was quite content to follow their orders. The moment that the hatch was open a foot or so a grenade sailed through – hitting the net and bouncing back, right at the feet of the black-clad man who threw it. It exploded with a flash and a bang, sending him flying. The next commando dragged his associate out of the way and proceeded through the hatch, automatic carbine in hand, and quickly became entangled in the net. A single shot from Jayne’s pistol hit him between the eyes and he went down like a puppet whose strings have been cut. Two down. With one shot. Johnny grinned to himself. A moment later three more men burst into the door, weapons ready. Zoe began pouring rifle fire at them, methodically pumping the lever and taking careful aim. Johnny and Jayne waited patiently as they men tried to find Zoe’s location – up on the catwalk, directly in front of the hatch – in the dark. When their aim started to get just a little too good, Jayne hit a switch and four ceiling-mounted spotlights illuminated the area at the hatch entrance, revealing a net-tangled corpse and four commandos in black who were momentarily blinded by the light. Johnny decided it was time to join in, and all three of them unloaded at the tangled knot. Jayne’s pistol shot the one in the rear – the one closest to the door – as easily as he had shot the first man, and the big invader crumpled in the doorway. That made it difficult for his comrades to retreat, which gave Zoe a better target for her rifle and Johnny a big black mass of rapidly panicking flesh to aim at. He opened up with the little machinegun, and 9mm slugs of hot lead perforated the air and the attackers in that order. When all four were incapacitated, Jayne moved forward, covering the door with his biggest gun while examining the bodies. One of them moved. Jayne shot him through the forehead, then gingerly pulled the hatch closed. “That was a lot easier than I expected,” Johnny said, as he watched the big mercenary pull the corpses to the side of the hatchway. “That was just the first team. Counting the man who ate his own grenade, that’s five. That means one more flanker and their commander. But I’d bet my favorite knife that there’s at least one, probably two more teams out there as backup. In case we tried to run. Or things didn’t go well.” “Which they didn’t,” Johnny observed. “So what do we do now?” “We stay put. Hold course. When they don’t check in—” As if summoned, the earpiece of one of the dead invaders had gotten dislodged from his ear when he had lost the right half of his head. It started whining tinnily, and Jayne didn’t hesitate to scoop it up and put it to his own ear. He listened for a moment and then looked at Zoe for permission. After a moment she nodded. “You’re breaking up!” he shouted into the pickup. “We’re pinned down! Send reinforcements!” he shouted. He cut off the mike in the middle of the last word, and tossed the radio onto the pile of bodies, grinning. “Reload, boy,” Zoe said in a low voice. “This is a long way from being over.” As he complied, Jayne called out to him. “Here, Johnny, you want somethin’ a li’l more modern? That antique you got was a piece o’ go se when they used it in the War.” He stooped and pulled one of the sleek autocarbines from the pile at his feet. “Now this is the business, here,” he said, approvingly. “This li’l lady’s built for this kinda work.” Johnny put his old weapon down on the locker, within reach, and left long enough to collect the new gun from Jayne. It felt light and lethal in his hand, a top-shelf law-enforcement model GK-30, 9mm caseless. He drew the strap around his shoulder and accepted the weapons harness Jayne extracted from a body. Strapping it on he now had access to a half-dozen grenades, a black-handled combat knife, a short .38 automatic in a shoulder holster, and pouches full of ammunition. Grinning, he headed back to his station. She picked up her own radio. “Do it, Wash.” Then she turned back to Johnny. “Let’s change positions. No need to let ‘em figure us out.”

*

“Do it, Wash.” The pilot grinned when he heard his beloved’s voice. After all that racket it was nice to know she was still in one piece. He knew she would be – she was the best soldier anywhere, according to Mal. And she was pretty good at tactics, too. But this part of the plan was all his. He tapped in the emergency wave combination, and in moments a bored looking cop was staring at him. “What’s the nature of your emergency?” he asked in a tone that matched his expression. “Are you guys doing any . . . training operations at the port tonight?” he asked, letting a note of panic and worry creep into his voice. “No, don’t think so,” the cop said, brow furrowed. “Why?” “’Cause there’s a lot of automatic weapons fire down here, and at least one explosion. I thought it was fireworks, but – hey! Someone just went past the ship carrying a gun!” he screamed, looking out the viewscreen. “They’re over here at slip 21, at least – ai ya, at least a dozen of ‘em! They got machine guns! Looks like bad guys—” he cut the contact before the cop could ask any more questions. That should rattle them. Unless he was mistaken, there would be a riot car with a tactical squad on its way shortly. And they would be looking for prowlers with machineguns. With any luck, the confusion would lead to a firefight that would take care of the problem for them. Now if everyone would just sit tight and stay alive, they might have a decent chance to get out of here in one piece. If only Mal would show up.

*

“Lewis!” Julian barked into the mike. “Lewis, report!” Lewis hadn’t reported since a garbled request for back-up had come in over the radio fifteen minutes ago. The decrepit looking Firefly had not shown any signs of life, though, since then. No lights in the cockpit, no whine of engines – the reactor was hot, he could see, but nothing else had happened since the hatch had shut. Monroe’s body was outside, and it was moving a bit, but the others had just . . . gone silent. Except for Randy. Randy had made a jump onto the port engine from a nearby antenna, and had made his way into the dorsal hatch. He had reported last that he was working to bypass the lock on the hatch – which should be simple. Who puts serious security on the inside hatch of an airlock? It wasn’t like someone was going to sneak in during flight. But he was the only one that was making regular radio checks. Julian was hesitant about sending in the second team. These guys were pros – they should be able to handle themselves against a bunch of spacers as haggard as that rusted pile of scrap. When his watch told off twenty minutes, he signaled for the second, and larger, team to infiltrate. This time he didn’t want them going in . This time he wanted them to secure a perimeter first, set up some support points, and get ready to enter the ship in overwhelming force. If they did this right they could be back on the ship before the morning shift showed up at the Steward’s Security Ward, and avoid a messy jurisdictional fight over the Tams. Keeping the cops out of this was almost as important as keeping the Alliance out of it. The Tams – this whole mess – was just too delicate to risk town clowns screwing it up. As the second team advanced, bringing along an unarmored mule with two mobile infantry support machine guns, he shook his head and signaled for his car. It was an armored job, just shy of military specs, but it would give him a better vantage point and the possibility of providing supporting fire, if needed. Much better than this rooftop. Then he could get his hands on the Tams, and shake loose the location of the General, his secret lair, and the nature of the superweapon they were providing him. And maybe rescue that kindly old monk they had taken hostage. He grinned to himself. He liked the sound of that: save the ‘verse from psychopathic terrorists and rescue a monk in the process. That would be enough for even those whacko suits with the blue gloves to bump up the reward. Who didn’t like monks?

*

In a run-down warehouse on the other side of town, Mal Reynolds sat on a crate and watched the General’s men prepare. Fifteen of them had arrived on the shuttle, along with Colonel Campbell, fresh from the Revenge which was hiding out just outside the atmo. Despite their civilian clothes the men moved with military precision that was completely outside of his own military experience – the Browncoats had made a virtue of necessity and valued fighting spirit over discipline. They were preparing the shuttle for a fight, and a return trip to the Emperor’s Revenge. Assault rifles, old Dragons, he noted, were being broken out and weapons harnesses were being strapped on over coats. The General and the Colonel were deep in conversation with three other men, apparently the General’s local Tong commander, arranging for the navlock to be stricken from his ship. Repelling the bounty hunters would be pointless if they couldn’t get off of this rock in a hurry. “The bustle of war,” Master Lei said, sighing heavily. “For seven years I have avoided it.” “Miss it?” “It had its place,” the monk admitted. Tao Chiang made no pretense of pacifism, the way Christianity and Buddhism did. The Taoists counted among their greatest scholars some generals and warlords who had found the Way in the conflict between armies. “Nice night for a firefight,” Mal noted, glancing at the night sky. The sphere of the red moon was full and high in the sky, while one of the tiny green satellites chased it. There were no clouds – there rarely were on the Heights – which made it excellent fighting and shooting weather. “You enjoy the song of battle?” “Beats a funeral dirge. Been singin’ that song so long, I know it by heart.” “The General asked me to give you this,” Master Lei said, unslinging a Dragon assault rifle. “You know how to use one?” “It ain’t my favorite, but they shoot straight,” he said, taking it and checking the ammunition. “Captain!” the General called. “All the preparations have been made ready. It is too hot to stay here as long as I wished, now. But once we liberate your people – and my nephew – we can retire to a safe place and begin our journey. You have made provision?” “We got almost twice as much fuel and three times as much victuals on Serenity than she ever carried,” he acknowledged, slinging the rifle onto his back. “We’ll be ready to jet.” “Excellent! Then this should be no more than sport.” He looked over Mal’s equipment and smiled. “Girded for battle, I see,” he said, nodding towards Mal’s hip. The sword that Inara gave him still hung there, forgotten. Mal cursed and moved to take it off. “No time, Captain,” General Lei said, motioning him toward the shuttle. “You may well have need of it before dawn.” “The hell I will,” Mal muttered. “Oversized bread knife . . .” “We’re ready, General,” Colonel Campbell said, helping the older officer into the open side of the shuttle, the engines of which were whining to life. Mal helped Master Lei in, and grabbed a seat near the commander’s. “’Cry havoc!’” the General shouted, throwing a thumbs-up to the pilot. “’And let slip the dogs of war,’” Mal said, finishing the quote. Master Lei raised an eyebrow. “Don’t tell Inara,” Mal said, winking. “She knows I read a book, might ruin her whole gorram day!”