Chapter 9, as promised!

9

Ossie Chen was clearing his office. He made it a rule never to stay in one place too long, and the money Niska had sent his way was burning a hole in his pocket. He hadn’t misled Reynolds on that point, at least – it was his retirement fund, or at least it would be if most of it wasn’t already marked for his creditors. He’d already decided, however, that his creditors could go spin. So he’d had to step on a few decent folk to get hold of it, but that was okay. His conscience had remarkable wipe-clean properties, which was good considering how many people he’d stung in the past. He was attempting to stuff the last of his bond papers into a bulging attaché case, when a change in the light made him look up. His mouth popped open. Jayne Cobb was standing tall and wide in the doorway. There was a big knife in his hand, and the glint on the silver blade matched the one in his eyes. “Ta ma duh!” Ossie exclaimed, at once shocked and terrified. He fumbled on his desk for a weapon, but he had already packed them away. He snatched up a radio ‘com instead, which he brandished like a grenade. Another perk to having money was the amount of hired muscle it could purchase, and his goons were more muscled than most. “Hey, now don’t go startin nothin’ – I can have this room full a’ my people in a coupla seconds…” “You mean, all these big, tough hwoon-dans out here?” Jayne indicated the room behind with a flick of his dagger. “The ones lyin’ on their backs an’ faces?” Ossie weighed up this information and turned to run out the other door, but there was a slip of a thing standing there in a summer dress and boots, hands folded behind her back, head tilted demurely to one side. The way she was smiling made him think twice about trying to barge past her. “Where you goin’, Chen?” Jayne stepped into the circular room, grinning evilly. “Got us some catchin’ up ta do.” “Cobb – listen… ‘bout the job… it was all Niska, he threatened me, forced me to dupe you guys – I woulda never…” “Ain’t that, Chen.” Jayne shook his head as he moved slowly toward Ossie, taking his time, savouring the moment. “Ain’t that at all. ‘Course we’re all a mite sore ‘bout the whole thing, but ya could say you an’ me got previous.” “What you mean?” Ossie said uncertainly. “Throw your head back a few years. Job on Whittier. The Round Hill Boys.” “The Round Hill –” Ossie began, and then his features went slack. “Oh, joo fuen-chse…” Jayne wasn’t grinning anymore. “See this scar right here?” He indicated his right jowl with the tip of his blade. “Took a nick off a bullet that night. Could say I was lucky, since most a’ my boys got shot down where they stood. Never did get ta repay the yi dwei da buen chuo roh that sent us out there ta die, but I guess things always come about if ya wait long enough, right?” The little man’s face had drained white. He stood there, gulping shakily, looking like he might piss himself at any moment. The sight warmed Jayne’s heart. “Cobb – look – I didn’t…” “Take a lookit that little girl over there.” He nodded toward River, who sprinkled a little wave at them. “Your deceivin’ sent her an’ everyone she knows for shootin’ off toward Reaver space. That’s ‘nough ta rile anyone up. Problem is, she’s a mite crazy in the brainpan, an’ she’s damn near unstoppable when she gets in a killin’ mood, so now she wants first dibs on ya. I’m inclined ta agree, seeing how she took down most a’ your boys by her own self. That was somethin’ ta see,” he chuckled. “Hell, didn’t even hafta get ma knife dirty.” The girl smiled sweetly. There was blood drying on the front of her dress. “What about Reynolds?” Ossie babbled. “Mal – me an’ him go way back. Knew him in the war – him an’ Alleyne. I’ve helped ‘em outta trouble since. Mal wouldn’t want you to kill me…” “Kill, no.” Jayne’s grin returned, even broader than before. “Now, cut on: that’s a whole other thing. See, he’s pretty pissed at ya for sellin’ him an’ his out ta Niska like that, so I kinda got free rein here.” He twirled his knife deftly in his hand. “Dong ma?” Ossie turned to bolt, but the girl was suddenly right there in front of him. He hadn’t even heard her move. “We’re going to ask you some questions first,” she said softly.

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“A ‘wave for you, Mr Niska.” A pained expression crossed Niska’s face. He bent down to address the blood-streaked face of the man hanging by his ankles from the ceiling. “Always the interruptions,” he sighed. “No matter – I will leave you in my colleague’s care. He is, how you say, hands on, but please, do not die until I return.” The man did not reply, but then Niska hadn’t expected one from a man with no tongue. He handed his secateurs to his chief torturer and stalked carefully out of the room, into his office. The desperate screams that followed him, gradually muffled by the closing door, were like fine classical music to his ears. He went to his desk and studied the ‘com screen set within the top. INCOMING WAVE, read the text, and below the caller ID. Osaki Chen. Niska frowned, displeased; Chen had no business contacting him directly. Calls could be traced, and Niska prided himself on remaining untouchable by law. “Mr Chen,” he said tersely, as he tapped the ‘connect’ button, “I sincerely hope you have good reason for calling…” “Sorry, Niska. Ossie won’t be callin’ any time soon.” Mal enjoyed every moment of the shocked pause that followed. “Mr Reynolds?” “In the flesh, you poisonous old go neong yung duh.” “This is… disappointing,” Niska managed. The old gangster was almost at a loss for words; a rarity for him. "Why are you not dead?" “Well – you know me. Never did learn to observe the proper etiquette.” Niska composed himself. “You are singularly frustrating, Mr Reynolds,” he said, through gritted teeth. “Never did I meet a man so hard to kill. You force me to try ever harder.” “Man can get tired of bein’ someone else’s bullseye, Niska. This makes three times you’ve meant to end me. First, I tried to square with you - gave you your money back, but that wasn’t enough. Second time, you cut on an’ fried me out of spite. Still get an itchy ear to this day. But today, you snookered me, my crew an’ my ship, an’ packed us off for the Reavers. This thing ends, here an' now.” “You are thinking maybe of coming in here?” Niska growled. “Another reckless invasion?” He had already pushed a button on his terminal, and an electronic siren was calling his Skyplex to action stations. “I look forward to it, Mr Reynolds. We remember last visit very well. My people will relish chance for retribution. “Oh, I ain’t comin’ in,” Mal said, shaking his head. “Not this time. What’s past is past. Just here to return what’s yours, an’ then we’ll be off on our merry.” “You make a mistake, Mr Reynolds, if you think I will allow you to go with impunity.” Niska was quivering with rage now. “You should know I am not one who forgives and forgets.” Mal leaned forward so that his whole face filled the screen. “Nor me,” he said. “That’s why I brought your ship back.”

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Everybody was clustered into Serenity’s cockpit, not wanting to miss a moment of this. Even Kaylee was there with her splinted arm in a sling. They watched in solemn silence as the Decamerone ploughed nose-first into the centre sphere of the revolving Skyplex. The remote connection terminated immediately; the lights on the panel flickered and died. River pushed the control column back into its recess and looked up at the others. “That’s it,” she announced, matter-of-factly. “It’s not talking anymore.” “Tug must've gone,” Kaylee said, sounding kind of sad. “Seems almost a shame, after all that work.” The freighter kept going, bulldozing through the spindly structure like a bull through a barred gate. Blooms of atmo-fed fire erupted all over the place, and the large rotating segments broke off, spinning away toward the brown surface of Ezra. Small shuttles dove crazily in avoidance; some managed it, some did not. “Tian fuhn de fu,” Inara said softly. She was thinking about the people in the Skyplex. She imagined that she could see them, even at this distance, little wiggling shapes silhouetted against the explosions. She wanted to feel pity for them but found that she could not, and her callousness shamed her. Mal was thinking about everything that had happened since the Regina train job, and all the troubles that Adelai Niska had heaped upon him and his crew. About Wash, managing to remain stoic in the face of Niska’s torture. About plucky little Kaylee, braving the black to save everyone from the gangster’s twisted vengeance, and about the doctor doing the same, and about River, his whimsical, brilliant little albatross, without whom none of them would have survived this day. Simon and Kaylee were thinking about each other, and what they were going to do to each other when they got a free moment. Jayne, predictably enough, was thinking about money. River shut her eyes and concentrated fully on their thoughts, trying to distract her wide-open mind from the death and carnage up ahead, but screams still lingered on the periphery. She hoped they would not last long. Taking large fragments of Skyplex with it, the Decamerone thundered on toward Ezra’s atmosphere. River had calculated the trajectory so that most of it would likely burn up on entry, and whatever remained would plummet into one of the planet’s deserted plains. No sense in killing those who didn’t have it coming. In the freighter’s wake, the shattered carcass of the space station twisted haphazardly, like a broken gyroscope. A few shuttles hovered uncertainly about the remains. “That’s a fine sight,” Jayne said, nodding his approval. As a man who specialised in destruction, he knew a good job when he saw it. “All right, people – let’s rabbit ‘fore the Alliance turns up to pick through the bones.” Mal stood and stretched his legs; he nodded to Zoe, who disappeared aft with Jayne to lock down. “Kaylee, need you back in the engine room, please – set up for full burn.” “Already there, Cap.” “Shiny.” He watched the doctor assisting Kaylee down the steps leading off the flight deck, and a thought struck him. “And don’t go gettin’ distracted on the way!” he called after them. “They’re just starting out,” River commented. She was already back in the pilot’s chair, tapping commands into the console. “You should be happy for them, show a little tolerance. They need each other now.” “And I need my beauty sleep, little one. Don’t you go encouragin’ ‘em.” “Curmudgeon: noun. Surly or miserly person.” “Huh. Ain’t never needed no reader to tell me that.” He returned to the girl’s side and rested a hand lightly on her shoulder. “Get prepped to take us out of here,” he instructed. “Full burn, on Kaylee’s mark.” River nodded. “Back to business. What’s our heading?” As if you didn’t know already, he thought. “Sihnon.” He caught Inara’s eye; the Companion smiled appreciatively. “Got us an arrangement to keep.”

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ta ma duh! = f*ck me blind! hwoon-dan = b*stards joo fuen-chse = pile of pig droppings yi dwei da buen chuo roh = stupid pile of stinking meat tian fuhn de fu = complete carnage dong ma? = understand? go neong yung duh = son of bitch

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