The Treasure of Lei Fong Wu

Chapter Fifty-Eight

ALPHA TEAM REMNANT –37:25

“You have some explaining to do,” Master Lei said reprovingly to the dimly lit figure in front of him. “What you have done . . . it is . . .” “Do not judge me! You were not there!” “But I am here now, and we are in a dire situation because of your decisions. This goes beyond any mere curiosity on your part. You have placed us in a perilous circumstance, and you have done so for the sake of political necessity and capricious sadism. It is not an honorable thing you have done.” “You dare lecture me about honor?” His voice was becoming shrill. “I do,” agreed the monk. He had not slept in a long time, but he seemed completely serene and at ease, sitting in the Captain’s chair. “You may consider yourself a gentleman, but you place your own purposes above the good of your family. That denotes a lack of honorable behavior.” “I placed the good of the Empire above the good of my family, perhaps,” he demurred. “That was my duty.” “Duty!” Master Le scoffed. “What of your duty to the Way? To filial piety? What you did . . .” “As I said,” Emperor Lei’s hologram stated flatly, “you were not there. You were not me. I had a short time in which to act, and there were political situations arising which you are oblivious to.” “You had him, right in front of you. You know what he did . . . what he represented. Shan Yu the Tyrant. How many of our own people did he have killed? A million, perhaps? And on Xiao? Millions. Yet you hesitated. Explain yourself.” “You should not treat your ancestors with such disrespect in the same breath you speak of our family’s honor!” the machine insisted haughtily. “Oh, give it a rest,” Master Lei complained, wearily. “You are not my ancestor. You are an artificial personality algorithm grafted on to a sophisticated computer program. You are the result of a few hours of my real ancestor’s ennegram encodings, and a bank of technicians tweaking the algorithmic output. But you are the only link I have to my real ancestor, so I accord you the deference my ancestor would deserve by custom and rite. But that is for my benefit, not yours. I want some answers. Why did you spare his life?” The imperious manner of the Emperor’s shade faded, to be replaced by a more relaxed smile. “So, my descendent is not a sheep.” “If you mean that I’m unwilling to sacrifice the vitality of our line for the sake of some ancient sense of formality, you are correct. I am unconcerned with the politics of your time. I am concerned that the last few vestiges of your line are even now fighting and perhaps dying because of your failure to do what is proper. I believe that warrants, at the very least, an explanation.” “You cannot intimidate me, you know,” the image said, shaking its translucent head. “I am a machine. The ‘me’ who I represent is long dead.” “I do not attempt to intimidate you. I am appealing to my ancestor’s sense of duty to our line. Come, it could hurt nothing to explain this.” “Very well. Yes, I did, indeed, spare his life. But you must understand: the Empire was in a dire situation. “I was the Prime Minister, after a long career in the civil service. Our family had always been in Service to the Emperor, and it was my fortune to rise quickly in the Imperial Censorate, after I passed my examinations. The Censorate was responsible for oversight of the other departments in government, ferreting out corrupt officials and discovering inefficiencies and injustice in the Imperial bureaucracy, to ensure the reign of the Emperor was just and good.” “Yes, I’m well aware of simple civics,” Master Lei said, rolling his eyes. “Let me continue, please. The Censorate makes a special point of hiring very intelligent, very clever young people to take advantage of their unjaded devotion and purer idealism. It is also seen as a proving ground for capable administrators: a fast-track to the heights of Imperial government. Turnover is high, and the very brightest, most clever and idealistic rise quickly. I joined at nineteen, just after my mandatory military duty was done and I passed my examinations. By the time I was twenty-four, I was a Senior Inspector General of Henan Province, in the north of Yuan. I had twenty-six Inspectors and Agents working under me, and Henan was as clean and uncorrupt province as you could ask for. Our Japanese minority was well treated, our factories worked without serious bribery, the local authorities were well-respected and impartial. “I was noticed. I was able to help my family – well within the bounds of propriety, of course. I assisted my Uncle get an import license, my sister an appointment to the faculty of Taiyuan Provincial University, and get my younger brother a commission in the Army. We prospered. “But then the war with Xiao came, and with it the troubles which toppled the old dynasty. The Emperor was an old man, and his advisors were wicked and corrupt. They used the war to line their own pockets at the expense of our people, and even dictated military strategy to the Imperial forces based on political considerations. I spoke out, of course, within channels – but I was a lowly provincial functionary, and they were powerful and well protected – beyond the reach of anyone save the Censor General, and he was their creature. For two long, bloody years I watched this. “But despite their corruption, the Empire was still essentially sound. There were military victories, and heroes, and successes – and one of those for whom the Gods seemed to smile was a general named Shan Yu. His string of successes on Xiao was such that he was pushed to the forefront by the Court, glorified, and given high honors. He seemed the very picture of a Confucian gentleman. He even published poetry. It was all very patriotic. “Shan Yu used his new-found influence at Court to press for the resources for even greater victories, which in turn led to greater honors. Eventually he was promoted to the Court as the Minister for War, and then Warlord. Victory seemed within our grasp – we occupied one continent on Xiao, and had a foothold on one of the other two. A strong hand, untainted by the scandals at Court, seemed to be the answer to our problems, and Shan Yu seemed to be that hand. While putting together his team in the War Ministry he sought me out on the recommendation of my brother, who had served with him on Xiao, and I became Undersecretary for Material Supply. There were many bright, patriotic young people like myself, all very talented, which he also brought in to win the war. But when you come to the Imperial Court, you bring with you many friends. You discover many enemies. The older Courtiers were not to be moved lightly – they convinced the Emperor to curtail Shan Yu’s martial ambitions, undercutting the war effort. And that was when the conspiracy began. “The old Emperor was weak. He had two sons. The elder was as weak as his father, the younger was strong, resolute, a perfect Chinese prince. Even if the old Emperor could be convinced to abdicate, his idiot offspring would inherit the Amber Phoenix throne and we would be back where we started. So Shan Yu began a conspiracy, and somehow managed to arrange an assassination of the Emperor and his son – he used a captured intelligence agent from Xiao, I believe – leaving the way clear for the younger son to inherit. He assured the backing from the military for such a move. “When it happened, the entire Empire was plunged briefly into chaos. Shan Yu had made arrangements, however, and before the week was out it was clear that he held the reins of power in the Imperial Palace. After the funerals, he and the Prince appeared, pledging to hold an official coronation after a full month of mourning. The Prince graciously appointed him as Regent in the interim. “It was a busy month, one which saw former Ministers and Secretaries and Generals loyal to the ancien regime arrested for their corruption. I was appointed Censorate General Pro Tem, until the Prince could form a government, and I used my powers to aggressively root out the corruption I had witnessed for so many years. It was a proud moment for our family – I was not yet thirty, yet a senior Minister. Hundreds were imprisoned, thousands were investigated. I purged the government of the disease that had brought us to this state of affairs.” “And yet you brought a dictator to power,” Master Lei said, sadly. “Yes,” Lei Fong Wu said, with equal gravity. “Yes, I did. It only took a few weeks to realize what had happened. While I was putting Ministers and magistrates in prison for bribery and extreme nepotism, Shan Yu had co-opted the intelligence services. The young, strong Prince was slain after the funeral by what was ostensibly a gang of loyalists to the old Emperor, in revenge. Shan Yu seized the Imperial Palace as Regent, put the remainder of the Imperial Family under his direct care, and effectively eliminated his opposition. The Empire had not fallen. The Emperor, and his family, had. “There was much discussion about whether the Mandate of Heaven had changed to favor Shan Yu, who was still very much a popular and patriotic figure. An extraordinary meeting of Ministers, Provincial Governors, and the House of the People was called to discuss the future of the Empire – with the tacit understanding that we would offer the Amber Phoenix throne to Shan Yu. Before the end of the conference, however, Xiao attacked T’ien viciously, leaving tens of thousands dead. Instead of the throne, the assembly voted to give Shan Yu dictatorial powers for the duration of the war.” “And, of course, the war never ended.” “No, it did not. In the twelve years of Shan Yu’s reign as Warlord and Regent, the war dragged on and on – and Shan Yu became more self-centered, cruel and megalomaniacal. I did what I could to mitigate it, but even as Censor General I had little power. When I was transferred to War Minister, I learned that Xiao had sued for peace nine times – and each time the Tyrant rejected the terms as unfavorable. His rule became strict. The military became glorified. And the heads of his foes grew on spikes in the Palace Courtyard like a fertile field of daisies. Tales of the Tyrant’s excesses started to spread. But no one dared take a stand, not after Minister of the Treasury Cho tried to hold Shan Yu to account for over-reaching the budget, and he had him beheaded on the spot. Even a whisper of discontent was viewed as disloyalty, and could earn you a disappearance in the middle of the night. “Ten years into his reign we were in a rare cabinet meeting when the Prime Minister brought up the subject of enthroning the last surviving heir of the old dynasty, who was reaching the age of maturity. Shan Yu declared the dynasty dead, called the poor little girl a whore, and tortured the Prime Minister to death over three weeks. I was given his job. I kept my mouth shut. He liked me. I don’t know why – I was not a member of his inner circle, with whom he . . . indulged in his passion for scientific brutality – but he did. “As the Sun Tzu project came to fruition I became privy to his ultimate goal, the conquest of the entire ‘verse. With the Sun Tzu he would become master of all of humanity, a benevolent dictator that would put justice and order to the world. He planned on destroying the government of Xiao once and for all, then moving against the other Core worlds. Insanity. The Empire would be crushed, if not from without, then by implosion. I had to act. “I discovered that he planned on making a gift of the last member of the previous dynasty to me as a concubine – something my wife would never allow. She had been trained as a courtesan, a Companion, and I knew that she would serve as his spy. I arranged to meet her and convinced her to gain her freedom by working with me. I took a terrible risk – she could have easily betrayed me. Instead she performed perfectly. In the meantime, I had to convince Shan Yu to place his most rabid supporters into hibernation, and with some work I arranged a situation that demanded just that. When the fateful day came, I acted. I eliminated Shan Yu and took the throne myself.” “But left Shan Yu alive!” Master Lei said, exasperated. “Yes! Yes I did. And for good reason. After twelve years of constant vetting disloyal elements from his government, there were many who served the Tyrant out of love, and not out of fear. I could always turn a live Shan Yu into a dead Shan Yu, but not the reverse. My original intention had been to keep him frozen until I had established a government, then try him for war crimes. When I declared the Mandate had changed and took the throne, it was one of my highest goals. But I had other work to do – ending the war, mending fences with our allies, repairing the damage to our society, and replacing die-hard Shan Yu supporters with more loyal people. It was five years before I had an opportunity to consider the matter seriously. By then the people had grown used to prosperity without fear, and to be reminded of the terror of the Tyrant would not have been helpful. So . . . I just left him there.” “You left a mess! One for us to clean up!” “I do not deny it. But in putting together this little quest, I had a higher purpose in mind. Did I want my descendants to act on their legacy out of pure greed? No, that would be unworthy – and such men would show themselves unworthy of ruling the Empire. To be absolutely certain that I was turning over the greatest warship ever built and the greatest treasure ever collected I had to make the crisis real, one they couldn’t just walk away from if they were mere fortune-seekers. Should the line fail, then it is possible that Shan Yu shall be released once again on the ‘verse. And they will be responsible for that. Or he will be eliminated – and they will be responsible for that, as well. It is a risk. One I am confident that you and your cousins will take every step to avoid. But it had to be there, and it had to be real. The ultimate puzzle. The ultimate test of their character. As I did.” Master Lei stared through the hologram, his face molded into an expression of profound disapproval. “You know,” he began, “as ancestors go, you’ve got a really crappy perspective on things.” The hologram shrugged. “It’s been said. Just ask my wife.” Before Master Lei could continue, the bearded face of the General appeared on the screen near to his left hand, his body encased in combat armor and a heavy combat shotgun on one shoulder. He was grinning. “Uncle?” he began, respectfully enough. “We have visitors.” “I am aware of that,” Master Lei sighed. “I expected you to entertain them. Did you run out of bluster or ammo or both?” “Oh, I was willing enough – haven’t had a good hopeless fight on my hands in forever. But then they went and got smart, and now we have an entirely different kind of situation on our hands.” He went on to explain the exchange between himself and Julian, and the valuable information he had gleaned as a result. “Atomics on a dead-man switch, huh?” the old monk asked with a sigh. “Just perfect. Just made my humpin’ day. First I realize my most honored ancestor was a scheming courtier who helped bring the greatest enemy of mankind to power, and now a two-bit bounty-hunter is threatening me with my own weapons. Just gorram excellent. Prepare a flag of truce. I will treat with him myself.” He swept up his bag and poured a cup of tea before heading for the lift. “Keep an eye on things, will you?” he asked the hologram. “I’ll be back in a moment, and we can finish this entertaining history.” Master Lei grumbled under his breath the entire way down to the lobby, where he met up with his nephew. “Who’s in charge? That one? Okay, raise the flag. We need to make this short and sweet.” The General did so, with an unabashed grin. While he was used to being in charge of everything in his life since the fall of the Empire, he seemed to take some pleasure in the idea of these bounty hunters being subjected to the sharp tongue of his Uncle. The bounty hunters agreed to a truce with a minimum of conditions, and their leader met Master Lei halfway across the causeway to the Bridge. The General took up a covered position just inside the blast door, a decent sized arsenal arrayed around him. Should things go wrong, he was more than willing to avenge his kin with a copious display of firepower. Master Lei waited patiently for the leader – Julian Hammer, he recalled – to meet him at the approved spot. The bounty hunter was a large man, even without the tactical armor he wore. He was in his late 40s or early 50s, middle aged and active despite the paunch his armor concealed. He carried an assault rifle with the ease of a man long accustomed to it, though he did so in a manner more congruent with a police force, not the military. His wide Anglic face had a square, chiseled jaw, the pale complexion of someone who spent most of his time in the Black, and sharp, penetrating eyes – cop eyes. They saw every little detail, the Master knew. But there was a confusion in those eyes, a fear and desperation that seemed out-of-place for the situation. “I’m Julian Hammer,” the big man said gruffly, in a blatant attempt at intimidation. “I am Heavenly Master Lei,” the monk said, bowing respectfully. “You’re that . . . that monk they kidnapped!” “Kidnapped?” Lei asked, amused. “Hardly. I assure you, I am here of my own free will.” This took Julian aback. “Well . . . be that as it may, I call for your people to lay down arms, stand down, and enter into custody.” “On what basis?” Master Lei asked serenely. “I have warrants for . . . Dr. Simon Tam, his sister River Tam, and . . . the General over there.” He pointed back towards the door with his left hand, his right keeping the rifle out of the range of threat, but ready nonetheless. Master Lei turned. His nephew was grinning like and idiot over his rifle sights. He waved back. “You do. May I see them?” “I . . . what?” “You say you have warrants. I would like to inspect them before I consider capitulation. That’s only fair, don’t you think? As well as required by most laws.” “They’re back on my ship. You can see them when you are in custody.” “And under what jurisdiction do you pretend to serve these warrants?” “The Alliance. These are Interpol warrants.” “Hmm. But the Alliance has no claim over this territory. Unless you would like the local law-enforcement from Hecate to assist you,” he said wryly. “In point of fact, this ship is the property of the Lei family, and we have reclaimed it under common salvage law. I suppose that makes me the Captain. As such, I see that you are aboard without my permission, which makes you either pirates or stowaways, subject to extreme prejudice at my discretion. I call for you to lay down your arms and enter into my custody. You shall be treated fairly, I assure you.” The big man threw his head back and laughed. “You got some stones, I’ll grant you. I don’t care if you’re the Admiral of the gorram fleet, I’m not going to leave without my captures! And I’m not about to let them – and you – get away with a ruttin’ dreadnought that can smoke Alliance worlds like a kid kills ants with a magnifying glass. Ain’t gonna happen. So you send out Dr. Tam and his twisted sister, lay down your arms, and no one gets hurt. You’re a man of the cloth – you don’t want to see anyone get hurt, do you?” “Of course not,” agreed Lei. “But neither do I wish to see an injustice perpetrated. Your pursuit of the Tams, while legal in some jurisdictions, is unjust. They are victims of the Alliance’s own cruel and inhumane treatment. They merely wish to be left in peace. I have been their guest for months, now, and they are currently guests of mine on this ship. And you have no jurisdiction here.” “I have Alliance warrants –” Hammer began. “— which are conveniently back at your ship –” “—and Alliance warrants have Universal Jurisdiction. They are valid here, there, under the Pope’s bed and in the Dalai Lama’s linen closet. So get their asses out here and start shuttin’ down this gorram ship!” “The principal of Universal Jurisdiction is entirely dependent upon the contention of Universal Sovereignty,” Master Lei pointed out blithely. “A principal which is far from universally accepted. I believe a war was fought over it, not too long ago. Regardless, even the Alliance recognizes the necessity of local sovereignty aboard spaceships, with the Captain – that is, myself – invested with a representative sovereignty which in effect gives my discretion complete control – legally speaking. No warrants may be served, legally, without my authorization – unless you have a warrant specifically naming me? No? Then you have no legal leg to stand on.” “Don’t play the ruttin’ space lawyer with me, Lei,” he snarled. “If you won’t accept the legality of the situation, then at least see the reality of it: I have you surrounded. I’ve cut off all lift service to the Bridge – mechanically. You can’t override a steel spike in a rail. The only way in or out of the Bridge is that door, and I have that door completely surrounded by crack troops with some real attitude issues. So do yourself a favor – do us all a favor – and give up the Tams, or the consequences will be dire.” He spoke with authority and intimidation. Lei was not visibly impressed. “Force majure is, indeed, a long-standing if not completely honorable tactic in war and diplomacy,” observed the monk. “But I do not think that you possess the advantages that you claim. As far as ‘crack troops’ . . . ” he glanced markedly at the mercenaries huddled behind planters and benches in the lobby, “ . . . if that cub you ostensibly sent to his death is any indication, we have little to fear from your men or their attitude issues. The Bridge has independent power, a great store of food and atmo, and is hardened to all but the heaviest attacks. We could quite easily go inside, seal the door, and wait for our comrades to rescue us.” “And I could quite easily push you off o’ this gorram causeway and break your ruttin’ neck!” Hammer bellowed. “You would be dead before I hit the floor,” Master Lei said gently. “Not because of me, understand, but my nephew, he is a belligerent man and fiercely loyal to his family. Such an abuse of the rites of truce would subject you to the full fury of his wrath.” “Ha!” Hammer laughed darkly. “He does, and everyone on the ship dies. I found the ship’s atomic arsenal, and I had a dead-man switched rigged. I die, or even sneeze funny, and this monstrosity goes nova!” he said with vicious glee. The monk remained unimpressed. He did, however, take a moment before he responded. “Are you a careful man, Mr. Hammer?” The bounty hunter’s eyes registered surprise, then confusion, then malevolence. “I am an exceptionally careful man, Lei. So very careful. I leave nothing to chance. I have contingency plans for my contingency plans. If you’ve thought of a way out, I’ve thought of a counter move. I’ve spent the last twenty years of my life dealing with criminals and I’ve seen a lot of good men die because they weren’t careful. So yes, I would say I’m a very careful man,” he finished, giving the old monk a stern, threatening look. “I’m glad to hear it,” admitted Master Lei. “I am, as well. Not in my youth, understand – but long before I took orders I was a member of the Imperial Household, and an officer in the Imperial Military. Fighter pilot, at first. When one is a fighter pilot, one learns to be very, very careful, or one does not return from combat.” “Great life story. Very moving. Totally irrelevant,” dismissed Hammer. “I think not. I learned that care in the service, but I have had twice as long or more to practice it than you. I can see behind your bluster and intimidation that you are scared – scared of us, which is amusing. This little endeavor has been more of a family outing than anything else. My nephews wanted to reclaim an ancestral treasure, is all. We hired Captain Reynolds and his people to assist. But for some reason you fear us. “But you have the security of knowing that if you fail, your targets shall not live out the hour. And that gives you peace, and strength. But you are mistaken on three counts. “Firstly, the only occupants of the Bridge at present are myself and my nephew, the General. I part with this tactially important piece of information merely to demonstrate that we do not fear you and your men. We are in a very defensible position, and in point of fact the people you seek are not here. “Secondly, you have nothing to fear from us. We have no designs on the Alliance or any of its territories. We simply want our legacy. As far as the Tams . . . they are harmless. They are no threat. Indeed, they are victims, and should be protected by any who pretend to love justice, for the Alliance has perpetrated horrible crimes against them. “Thirdly, you are a careful man – your foresight in rigging that dead-man is proof of that. But I am more careful.” He held up his bag and shook it vigorously. There was a clatter of many small pieces of plastic jumbled together. Master Lei stuck his hand in and pulled out a small plastic circuit card. “I, too, found the Atomic Arsenal, and it occurred to me that it might not be the smartest thing to leave thirty-odd atomic warheads laying around, ready to do mischief. So I had the foresight to remove the coding boards from each one. These control the internal fail-safes of the warheads, ensuring that they cannot go off without the proper code. At this point, even if you had the codes they would be useless, as you would need the cards as well. They could be overridden, with a complete electronics lab, a team of experts, and a great deal of time – but somehow I don’t think you are so equipped. So your threat, Mr. Hammer, is hollow.” The shocked expression on Hammer’s face was fulfilling. “You’re . . . bluffing,” he said through gritted teeth and an industrial grade scowl. The old monk shrugged. “Be my guest: activate the bombs.” Hammer didn’t, putting the switch back into his vest – he was, after all, a careful man. “This ain’t over, Lei. Not by a damn sight. I’ll respect your flag of truce until the moment you walk back through that door. Then all bets are off. You stick your old, wrinkled head outside, I’ll shoot it off myself, burn your body and piss on your gorram ashes!” Master Lei repeated his shrug. “I, too, will respect the truce – a gentleman would do no less. And as far as your threats . . .” He fixed Hammer with a stern, vicious stare of his own, one no less borne of authority and discipline as his but with decades more experience, “I have full control over the ship’s anti-intruder systems, and with a command I can flood this compartment with nerve toxins, non-lethal gas, or decompress it altogether, killing everyone inside. So you can just kiss my old wrinkled, bony ass.” With that he turned and walked back into the Bridge, leaving Hammer to stare at him, slack-jawed, until the blast doors slammed shut.

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RECONSTITUTED GAMMA TEAM -34:19

“All clear up front, Cap’n!” Jayne radioed back. Mal nodded, then remembered that Jayne couldn’t see a nod. “Shiny. Keep it that way until we catch up. That vehicle bay should be close at hand.” “Will do, Cap. I’ll try to find it.” “Negative. Just keep the vermin at bay until we get there.” “Oh, all right,” the mercenary grumbled. “Jayne says we’re good,” Mal called out to the rest of the reconstituted team. “We’ll be at his position in about ten minutes. Then we find the vehicle bay.” “Then we pick out a nice, low-mileage hoverbike and a sporty little groundcar and cruise the ‘verse for babes?” Johnny asked. River guffawed, and Campbell offered a smile. “We got a one-babe-per-mission limit, son, and you’re full up,” Mal countered. “No, we catch a few hours of sleep, if we can, then push on towards the Engine room. Time?” he called. “A little over thirty hours,” one of the commandos – Lin? Hin? called out. “Plenty of time,” Mal assured. “How much you wanna bet someone will have to input the code in the last ten seconds before the ship takes a dive?” Johnny proposed. “This ain’t a bad CV show,” Mal said with a barking laugh. “That kinda thing almost never happens in real life. Nah, we’ll make it. Always do. Piece o’ proverbial cake.” “No, we don’t,” River corrected. “Well . . . we almost always do.” “Nope.” “We . . . usually do?” “How about ‘sometimes’?” River offered. “See? We sometimes do. I mean, we’re less than a hundred yards as the laser flies from the Engine Room. Only one more little section to get through. Oh, and the certain deathtrap we’ll have to counter to actually get inside – like that samurai ‘bot y’all found in the computer core. But that’s it! It’s cake.” “Don’t forget the army of rabid fanatics following around the greatest mass-murderer in history,” cautioned Johnny. “Oh, yeah,” Mal agreed. “That.” “And the bounty hunters that have hounded you across lightyears, sacrificing everything in their relentless bid for success and vengeance?” added Campbell. “Well, of course you have to include them. But still. Cake.” “And a ship that’s been abandoned in the center of a gas giant for a century and doesn’t quite work right,” River said, breaking her silence. “She’s lonely,” she continued, softly, petting the walls affectionately as she walked. “She’s been away for a long time. She’s missed the Black. Missed the stars. She’s home now. Suo-yo duh doh dhr-dang.” She spoke with longing and reverence and great feeling. “Uh . . . yeah. That part, too. Ship could break. But apart from all of that, what could happen? I’m tellin’ you, it’s gonna be cake!” “That’s what I like about you guys,” Johnny said. “Your enduring optimism in the face of certain defeat.” “That’s pretty much general issue for a Browncoat,” agreed Mal. “Purplebellies always had us at a disadvantage. You didn’t get chipper, eventually you slunk away with your tail twixt your legs.” “Among the Imperials, as well,” Campbell added. “At our height, we were still the underdog. And we did not maintain that height long. A positive mental attitude was one of the few items we had in plentiful supply.” “And both of you lost. Not judging,” Johnny added quickly, nervously adjusting his baseball cap. “Just saying. Maybe a pessimistic attitude is more appropriate?” “And spoil a lovely day like this? For shame, sir!” Mal said mockingly. “You don’t have a free flow of optimism, you ain’t ever gonna achieve any goal.” “Uh . . . Cap?” came Jayne’s voice over the radio. “We got problems. A bunch of them. I found the door to the bay, but we done been beat. They got there first and have set up defenses.” “Gorram it,” he whispered savagely. “All right, hold position and observe. We’ll be there shortly.” “What’s wrong?” Johnny asked. “Someone just took a good healthy dump in all that cake I was talkin’ about.” “Free flow of optimism, remember? Chipper? Positive mental attitude, right?” Johnny mocked. “Oh, shut up,” Campbell and Mal said at the same time. River guffawed.