A/N Well, finally, here it is.. sorry it took so long, but I discovered that there really are too many distractions at home to write properly... I'm much better at writing at work, when I'm supposed to be working!!! This one's over 4000 words, extra long just for Ali :o), which puts me up over 20,000 words now! Wow. Hope you enjoy! Oh yeah, all that disclaimer stuff too... Go back and read the Other Parts: 1 2 3A 3B 4 5 6 7 8A 8B 8C 9

Choices – Part 10 by 2x2

From the anonymity of the crowd, the man watched his target as he helped the last of the whores onto the hovercraft and then went around to speak to the woman in the driver’s seat.

“…Mule’s only designed for four, but I figure ya’ all are slight enough. Just take ‘er easy and don’t push ‘er too hard,” the target was saying and the woman nodded in response.

The man in the crowd motioned toward the mule and an associate stepped up beside him. “Send a team after them, say four or five men,” the man ordered. “Cut them off from the docks.”

The associate nodded and signaled to four of the waiting men and the five of them slipped off in the direction of the port.

As the mule lumbered away, the man nodded to the rest of his gang. It was time to put his plan into action. The men spread out through the crowd, and then they started whispering.

**********

Mal watched the mule glide off under Inara’s capable control, a tiny grin quirking at the corner of his mouth. He had to admit there was something about seeing her dressed like that, in Zoe’s pants, slightly baggy, the big boots and Kaylee’s tight fitting t-shirt, that he quite liked. Whether it was just seeing her in something different, or the juxtaposition of the fancy, high-class woman in common garb, Mal didn’t know, but somehow he found it more erotic than any of the flow-y, silk and satiny dresses she wore. His mind flashed back to the previous night, recalling the feel of her soft lips, her silky hair, her skin beneath his hands… the joy of discovering each other…

“Sir?” came Zoe’s voice sharply, snapping him back to reality. He turned to her, acknowledging the chastisement in her gaze. She knew exactly what he’d been doing, and she was right to call him on it. He forced Inara from his mind resolutely and returned his thoughts to the matter at hand.

“Right. Back to business. I want this ta ma de hun dan found, and I want him found now,” Mal said, his anger returning full force.

Jayne made a face and shook his head. “Why you so wound up about this anyhow? ‘S not like you set the gorram place on fire,” he said, irritably.

“Because,” said Mal, stretching his patience to the limit, “It wouldn’ta happened if me an’ ‘Nara hadn’t been here last night.”

“You know that for certain, Sir?” asked Zoe, pulling his attention from the mercenary back to her. She knew Mal’s moods, and right now wasn’t a time for Jayne to be testing him. “Maybe this bu zhong yong lǘ zi been planning this all along. You jus’ happened to pick the wrong night.”

Mal shook his head. “Ain’t likely. It weren’t coincidence he made it look like I done this. It was retaliation.”

Zoe nodded, knowing his logic was sound. “All right. So where do we start?”

“Jayne, whatever shady, less than reputable contacts you got, I want you to tap ‘em. See if you can’t find out where this sack of go se lays low. Zoe, you an’ I will—”

Zoe held up a hand suddenly, and Mal’s voice halted mid word, trusting his first mate’s instincts implicitly. She turned, something about the restlessness of the crowd of onlookers setting off alarm bells within her.

“Crowd’s turnin’ ugly,” Jayne said quietly and Mal had to agree as he became aware of the mutter of the people gathered around them.

“…said it was a Browncoat…” came one voice. “…come back to view their handiwork…” said another. Then, “Filthy Browncoats!”

“Maybe we oughta—” get outta here, Mal trailed off as he suddenly realized the crowd had completely surrounded them. Jayne and Zoe edged toward Mal as the crowd began to grow more hostile.

“Him’s the one what done it!” one voice rang out. “Burnt them girls up, an’ th’ain’t hurt a fly!” it continued amid a chorus of agreement.

“Got a lotta nerve, showin’ your faces here.” “Ought’er teach ‘em a lesson.” “Them girls deserve t’be done right by!” “Law ain’t gonna do nothin’. Ought’er string ‘em up for it! Show ‘em we won’t stand for it!” “Just cuz they’s whores don’t mean they don’ deserve justice!” “Justice! Justice!” several voices cried out.

“Now, hold on!” Mal shouted suddenly, pulling himself up onto the hitching post to be seen by the crowd. “Ya all just hold on a minute!” The crowd quieted down reluctantly, all eyes turning to him. “Now, ya all been led to believe it was a Browncoat what done this, but ya all been lied to—”

“Lies!!” shouted several voices in the crowd. “Saw’r it with mine own eyes!” “I did too!” “Lies!”

“—It weren’t me or mine!” Mal roared, trying to get some control over the crowd but meeting nothing but the hard, glittering stares and the distrustful mutterings of the townsfolk around them.

“Sir,” said Zoe. “Thinking now might be the time for us to be leavin’.” Jayne nodded, eyeing the crowd warily, his hand itching for Vera. Mal agreed with them, but he knew he needed to try and calm things down as much as possible first. He held a hand up for silence, shouting when the crowd refused to listen.

“Ya all have been taken in by a man name of W--ahg!” Mal was suddenly cut off mid-sentence as a bottle flew through the air at him, the corner catching him just above the left eyebrow and knocking him off the hitching post to the ground heavily. “Get ‘em!” roared someone in the crowd, and with that the mob swarmed forward, flowing like water through a burst dam, swirling around them in a rage.

“Captain!” Zoe cried out, trying to reach him, but the throng was too thick and she was forced to defend herself against the kicks and punches that were soon flying in at her from all sides.

At the same moment Jayne went for his gun but suddenly found three men on him, wresting the weapon from his fingers, and then it was all he could do just to keep his feet.

Stunned, Mal raised a hand to his eyebrow, blood streaming from a jagged gash, obscuring his vision. Shaking off his unsteadiness, he rolled to his knees amidst a swirl of angry feet, aware that he was in very real danger. He reached for his pistol but before he could draw, his arm was yanked hard behind his back, a forearm suddenly pressed across his throat tightly. Flailing wildly with his other arm, he arched his back, trying to gain purchase against his attacker, but the breath was knocked from him as he received a sharp blow to the solar plexus, followed by two quick jabs to his ribs. Mal stumbled and the arm across his throat began to squeeze, the lack of oxygen quickly causing his vision to blur, dark spots flashing before his eyes as he struggled against the grip of his attacker. Bodies pressed in on him from all sides and he kicked out desperately but the arm continued to tighten around his neck and his gut ached with the need to regain his breath. He tried to drive his elbow into the man behind him and felt his other arm jerked up painfully in retaliation. Fading fast, Mal clawed at the arm, but the pressure was unrelenting. At last, all he saw was darkness and then nothing as unconsciousness finally claimed him and he sagged in the man’s arms.

Zoe fought fiercely, worried that there she could see no sign of Mal in the press of bodies, fearing that he still hadn’t regained his feet. The crowd surged around them, driving her and Jayne further apart until she was finally able to tear her gun free. With a roar she fired a blast above the heads of the crowd and almost instantly the mob scattered, people running in every direction away from them, screams of rage turning to fear-filled cries. Jayne reclaimed his fallen weapon and let off a couple of rounds after them for good measure. Dirty and bloody, he turned to Zoe a little unsteadily as she spun around, searching the street, but of the Captain, there was no sign.

*******

Inara piloted the mule through the street, carefully avoiding the street vendors and pedestrians that crowded it. The mule was just large enough to be awkward in the narrow roadways, and she found herself having to slow to a crawl repeatedly to keep from running down the people who seemed determined to be oblivious to her presence. “Sha gua,” she cursed at yet another group of pedestrians who jumped out in front of her without warning, causing her to swerve violently to the left. She cast a quick glance at Gabr’elle. The woman had been silent since they’d left the remains of The Chapel of Love. Inara couldn’t blame her, considering all that she’d lost. The three women in the back were equally quiet, huddled together numbly, their eyes staring at nothing as they crept along.

For once, Inara felt at a loss for words, the lack of conversation hanging oppressively over her. As if sensing her discomfort, Gabr’elle looked across at her.

“He’s a good man, your Captain Reynolds,” she said, clearing her throat. Inara smiled hesitantly.

“Yes. He is,” she said, nodding.

Gabr’elle’s gaze dropped to her hands and then lifted to stare out over the street. “Not many men would spare a second thought to someone like me or my kind.”

Inara blinked, memories of Nandi and the Heart of Gold welling up within her. “It’s… it’s just a part of who he is,” she said, her voice thickened by emotion. Sometimes to a fault, she thought sorrowfully.

“It must be difficult for you,” the madam continued, turning her stare back to the Companion.

“What must?” she asked, puzzled.

“Loving him,” Gabr’ellle clarified.

Inara’s eyes widened, her mouth working, trying to form words of denial “What?—I…”

“Mind that cart, now,” the other woman interrupted, pointing out the vendor they were veering dangerously close to.

The Companion hastily brought the mule back into the road, throwing a quizzical glance at her passenger.

“Things have changed ‘tween you since last evenin’ ‘less I’m off my mark, but I rarely am.”

Inara gave her a startled look and the madam chuckled briefly.

“Don’t look so surprised. Companions ain’t the only ones’ve learned to recognize body language and the like,” said Gabr’elle.

“Of course, I…I’m just… not used to being around someone who knows what to look for.”

“I’m afraid I don’t think you’d be foolin’ anyone by this point,” smiled the woman and Inara felt herself blushing despite her attempt not to. Sensing her discomfort, Gabr’elle sat back with a shake of her head. “I don’t mean to pry, Inara. I jus’ like to think that, ‘least some happiness maybe come outta all that’s happened.”

“Oh, Gabr’elle,” whispered Inara, her throat tightening. “I’m so sorry…”

“So’m I,” Gabr’elle said, seeing the faces of the six girls she’d lost. She sighed. “’Not the first time tragedy come visit, won’t be the last. All we can do is remember those what’ve gone on before us, and do right with the rest of our lives,” she continued for the benefit of the three women in the back of the mule. Their future was bleak, and Gabr’elle knew she needed to be strong for the surviving girls, and if that meant she could never shed another tear for the six who died, well, then she’d cried all the tears she would for them. The important thing now was to keep her girls together, hold on to what they had, and to build a new life.

Inara was silent as she reflected on the other woman’s words, her thoughts turning to memories of Nandi. She had never really experienced that kind of loss before, had had no real experience in losing someone close to her. Certainly, she’d spent many hours worrying over Mal and the crew, afraid every time they went on a job that this would be the time one of them wouldn’t come back. But somehow they always managed to pull through, and it had lulled her into a false sense of security. Nandi’s death was like a sudden, harsh dose of reality, and it had brought all her fears crashing back into her. Fear of someday kneeling over Mal’s lifeless body… or that of any of the crew. Then there was the guilt she felt. If only she hadn’t hesitated when she’d held her knife to that hun dan’s throat and had instead spilt his blood the instant the infant had been taken from him, Nandi would still be alive.

What would that have meant for her and Mal?

Nothing he had said or done had ever hurt her as much as seeing him come from her friend’s bedchamber. It had changed everything between them in a heartbeat. The hardest part was feeling that it evidently wasn’t the whoring he objected to, but that it must be something about her herself he didn’t like. Why else was it he didn’t have a problem sleeping with Nandi, a woman who rightly could be called whore, while continually accusing her contemptuously of being the same thing? It was a question she didn’t have the courage to ask him, even knowing now that he very obviously did like her, maybe even loved her as much as she loved him.

Deep in her thoughts, Inara very slowly became aware of a feeling of being watched, and blinked in surprise to see there was a man astride a horse who rode beside her, matching the mule’s slow pace through the street. She turned to look at him and he flicked his gaze away, but she was distinctly sure he had been staring at her. Not that it was unusual for people to stare at her, but something about him made her feel uncomfortable, as though he were potentially a danger to them. She wasn’t quite able to pin down what it was, but she tended to pay attention to those kinds of feelings. As inconspicuously as possible, she turned back to the road, keeping him in her peripheral vision, and though she wasn’t surprised, she began to worry when she saw his attention return to her the minute he thought she was no longer looking.

Gabr’elle sensed the sudden, subtle change in Inara and glanced her way. Inara looked back, her eyes widening in alarm as she saw another horseman pacing them to the right of the mule. With a quick flick of her eyes, the Compaion motioned for Gabr’elle to look beyond her and the madam immediately saw the rider and realized that there must be another behind her. In that instant she felt the same unease that had overtaken Inara and knew it meant one thing.

These men were trouble.

Slowly, Inara began to speed up, her jaw tensing as the riders urged their mounts into a trot to keep up. Casually, Gabr’elle took a look over her shoulder, speaking to her girls as a pretense to get a look behind her. “Three more behind us,” she said quietly to Inara. The Companion swallowed, realizing that for once she’d be grateful to have Jayne here with her.

“Is it Whelt?” she asked, feeling a tight ball of dread in her belly as she remembered what had started all of this in the first place. She did not relish the idea of meeting him again.

“’Don’t know,” Gabr’elle replied. “Didn’t see ‘im, but could be part of the same bunch what he runs with. You got any weapons on this crate?” she asked hopefully. Inara shook her head.

“Not as far as I know. Everyone usually brings their own.”

“Damn. Then we are in trouble,” said the madam.

“If we can get to our ship—” started Inara but Gabr’elle cut her off.

“Too late!” she hissed as the rider on Inara’s side unholstered a pistol and came right up to her side.

“Slow it down, now,” he said coldly, aiming the gun at the Companion. Inara looked over at the rider, fear in her eyes, then glanced back at Gabr’elle. The look she received in return told her that they both knew that stopping would be the worse of their two options. Gabr’elle looked back at the three women behind them and Inara could only hope that they could understand the silent warning the house mother was sending them.

“I said, slow it down!” the man said, his voice edged with a dangerous warning. Inara turned back to him and drew in a deep breath, nodding in apparent agreement to hopefully keep the man off guard. Then—

“Get down!” yelled Inara, as she swerved the mule into the first man, forcing him to reign in his mount with a curse as she gunned the throttle, shooting them forward with a sudden burst of speed. She heard shouts followed by the report of several gunshots and a scream escaped her as a bullet pinged off the corner of the windshield in front of her, far too close for comfort. The three women in the back began screaming as they hunched over as low as they could get, huddling together in fear.

Gabr’elle raised her head just enough to peer behind them and swore as she saw the five riders hard on their tail.

Inara swerved wildly around the pedestrians in the street, causing several people to have to leap out of their way. She winced and ducked as the front fork caught the edge of a vending cart, sending slats of wood and metal splintering overhead with a crash.

“Look out!” yelled Gabr’elle and Inara pulled hard on the breaks as a horse drawn carriage suddenly filled the street before them, rocking everyone in the mule forward roughly.

“Ai ya!” gasped Inara as another bullet ricocheted off the side of the mule, inches from her as the riders began to catch up.

“Faster! Go faster!” cried one of the girls in the back and Inara pulled around the carriage, destroying several poled awnings in the process, and began accelerating again, but the street was growing too narrow and crowded to go fast enough. She had clipped several carts and other vehicles already, and the mule was unfamiliar enough that if she pushed it any faster, she knew she wouldn’t be able to keep control in such a confined space.

But the men were gaining on them.

Heart pounding, Inara increased their speed only to be forced to cut it back as the street grew narrower again. The three girls in the back were screaming steadily now as bullets whizzed over their heads. “Keep down!” the Companion yelled at them, hunching her shoulders to get herself as low as she could while still allowing her to see where she was going.

In the distance, she could make out the outline of several ships growing closer – the Port. She knew if she could get them to Serenity, they had a chance. “Get to the ship,” she muttered, over and over like a mantra, grimacing, as she had to swerve to avoid a group of children. Metal ground against stone as the side of the mule scraped along a wall, trailing sparks, and Inara cursed as she was forced to slow again.

“They’ve cut off the docks!” gasped Gabr’elle suddenly, pointing to where a group of carts, too numerous to smash through, had been pulled into the street and overturned. Inara had no choice but to break hard and turn off the road she was on, knowing it would lead them further away from the docks and Serenity. “They’re driving us away from town…” the madam added as she glanced over her shoulder at the men pursuing them, now closer than ever.

But the streets were wider here with fewer people, and Inara pushed the throttle hard, a fierce surge of joy and adrenaline coursing through her as her hope of escape rekindled.

But then a sudden deep, low-pitched buzz filled their ears and Inara’s hope was overpowered by a sharp stab of despair, knowing now that there would be no get-away as the air crackled with energy around them from an electro-magnetic pulse. She released the controls with a gasp as the EMP ripped through the mule, a burst of blue static shocking her fingertips. The vehicle lurched to the left, the front end dipping severely as all power was negated and the Companion grasped desperately at the yoke, knowing it was useless, but pulling back with all her strength none the less as the ground came rushing up to meet the front of the mule much too fast. The front forks scraped across the soil, churning up clouds of dust and sand, then bit the earth hard and the mule came to a sudden, jolting stop, pitching the women forward violently. The youngest, Juan, was thrown from where she crouched between the two back seats head first into the windshield. Inara slammed into the front console, her face meeting the unyielding metal forcefully and the steering column digging hard into her stomach. Gabr’elle smashed shoulder first against the right-side roll bar as the two girls in back flew through the air, landing clear of the mule on the ground heavily, all within a matter of seconds.

The mule jounced as the back end fell back to earth with a protesting groan, gravity pulling the machine horizontal again, rocking its remaining passengers roughly. Gabr’elle moaned as the movement jarred her arm, the resulting pain a sure indication that the limb was broken. Her ears were suddenly filled with a rush of roaring sound, pulsing with every beat of her heart and black spots flashed before her eyes. Slowly, the sound in her ears faded to a faint ringing, through which she could hear gurgling, choking gasps coming from the other side of the mule. She opened her eyes, blinking at the dust and smoke that drifted around her and choked her lungs. Coughing and causing more pain in her arm, she struggled to sit, only to come face to face with the staring, lifeless eyes of her youngest girl, her body crumpled between the seats, neck obviously broken. With a cry of anguish, Gabr’elle reached for the girl with her good arm and was shocked as she touched the lifeless face to see her limb smeared in blood. She turned her arm to see a long, deep gouge running from just below her wrist to well past her elbow, steadily oozing red. She stared at the red trail without comprehension, watching the trickle of blood trace spidery paths along her flesh.

The deep rumble of a horse’s neigh drew her back to her surroundings and she was suddenly flooded with the memory of what had happened. She looked behind her for her other girls but found the seats empty. Another choking gasp came from her left and, remembering Inara, she turned to look just as one of their attackers rode up. He wrapped an arm around the Companion’s torso and began tugging her from the mule. Inara’s head lolled and she moaned, her face awash with blood, arms dangling limply, barely conscious.

“…stop…” Gabr’elle wheezed, finding it difficult to make her throat work. With all her strength, she threw herself forward, grasping Inara’s hand in her own, crying out as she felt fire race through her right arm as bone ground against bone. The man on the horse pulled Inara hard and Gabr’elle’s blood slick fingers lost their grip on the woman’s hand. “No,” she moaned as the man hoisted the Companion across his horse and dug his heels into the animal’s sides. The beast leapt away with a startled whinny, Gabr’elle reaching desperately after her. “Inara!”

“Don’t worry about her none,” chuckled one of the other men cruelly. The youngest of the riders, he rode to the mule’s side, pistol in hand. Gabr’elle gasped in recognition as she saw the young man’s face.

“I know you… You’re… Williams’ son!” she breathed in shock. “What’n the… good gorram… are you doin’, boy? You’re bound to… force your Pa into stringin’ you up… for this…” she panted.

The young man wheeled his horse to face her as she spoke, sneering. “An’ you know too much for your own gorram good, whore!” he said hotly.

And with that, he raised his pistol and as Gabr’elle’s eyes widened in fear, he fired.

* * * * *

Chinese translations:

bu zhong yong = unfit for anything/no good/useless/ lǘ zi = ass / donkey sha gua = idiot hun dan = bastard ta ma de = mother fucker

Go to Part 11A