Disclaimer: All recognizable characters, etc. belong not to me, but to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, and Fox, and no money is being made here. The story, however, is mine.

“Those poor mudders,” I said looking back from the cargo bay ramp. “Come on, Eddie.” Libby was right there with me. “You say that about every border or edgeworld we come to.” I pushed the button to close the ramp and airlock. “It’s just that, their only break was some Robin Hood-esk person stealing from the Magistrate and giving it to the indentured mudders a few years back.” I started to go the rear of the cargo bay. “And I got that gorram song stuck in my head!” “Kuang qi de, Eddie.” “Yeah, yeah. Get us off this rock, will you?” Which reminds me, I never introduced you to my ship. I named it Liberty, for helping me escape the Darkness. She was the best thing I could find planetside on Londium after I got off that cruiser. Well, best thing they’d never realize I was in, anyway. It’s a Firefly class. Old, outdated, and obsolete. They don’t make them anymore. Although it does put me in the class of those smugglers everyone hates, the Alliance has yet to find me. I’ve found them on a few occasions, but they never found me. And I don’t think people on the higher up want the navy finding out about me anyway. Long story. I’ve retrofitted the ship immensely since. The port shuttle is gone. All that is now is a façade of a shuttle. Inside it opens out this rather large cannon. We’re talking Earth-That-Was battleship cannon large. I found it in a junkyard on Persephone really cheap. Which is why a good deal of that side of the cargo bay is gone. It’s now a chamber for the gun and its ammo. I walked through the cargo bay to the other side and through the door. Down there, some Fireflies keep an infirmary. Mine never came with one. Instead, it makes a great bedroom, although I had to get rid of the windows in there for obvious reasons. Looking back further, I saw Libby coming out of the first passenger dorm on the left and heading up the stairs. That’s her room. Although technically she doesn’t sleep (she instead plugs herself in), she still does need a room. Especially with the way her programming has been coming along the past few months. Moving on, I decided to follow her up the stairs. Toward the top of the staircase, it curves to the left. At the top, there is a small hallway to the left. I took that hallway. From there on, if you look to the left, you have the engine room. I personally wouldn’t mind having a dedicated mechanic onboard, but both Libby and I can make repairs if necessary. To the right, which was where I was going, is the dining room. Why I didn’t use this room for something else and put the dining room downstairs, I’ll never figure out. Now if I want a midnight snack, I have to go upstairs to get it. I plead temporary insanity. Anyhow, I grabbed a couple crackers to munch on as I followed Libby to the next corridor. Right as you walk in, to the right is a stairwell to the cargo bay, and another entrance to the dining room. Going forward, normally, this is where the crew quarters are. Not on Liberty. Below the deck I’m walking on is a loaded torpedo rack. And below that is a small missile rack (it’d be part of the top floor of the cargo bay if the cargo bay followed the contour of the ship). She’s well armed for a mid-bulk. I even have a few machine guns and bazookas installed at strategic points on the ship. Yeah, they’re all just a little bigger than the larger handhelds, but if you can get close to the enemy, the hull-piercing bullets work wonders. That, and they can turn Liberty into a small fort on land. All those are hidden behind some sort of external panel as well. All of my weapons are hidden. Draws less attention that way. Gotta love the nooks and crannies. Libby walked up the stairs onto the bridge, while I decided to take the lower entrance to navigation. Navigation is a small area right below and in front of the pilot’s area. It’s all part of the bridge. I started keying in some coordinates. Libby started up the engines. “Are we good?” “Coordinates keyed in”, I told her. “We Radion Pulse as soon as we break atmo. Should align us with the gas giant. One orbit of that, hard burn, and we’re from Higgins’ Moon to Osiris is under 36 hours.” “You seem excited about this job. You never get this excited about ripping something from Alliance hands unless it’s personal.” “Oh believe me,” I responded, “this one is very personal.” And with that, Libby had taken the ship off the ground and into the skies.