Firefly Legacy

It’s been a little over 20 years since the mysterious broadwave came across the Cortex, droppin’ the bombshell nobody coulda expected. Reavers. They made them. Or at least that’s what the wave showed. Some Alliance experiment gone wrong created the bogeymen of the Black, Reavers.

Now as you can imagine this didn’t sit well with the citizens o’ the Allied Planets, whether on Persephone, Bellerophon, Whitefall, or any other rock in the Verse. Folks weren’t happy. And the Alliance weren’t too thrilled about havin’ their dirty laundry aired to the unwashed masses.

Course, they first tried doin’ some damage control. For the first couple years they tried to spin it as anti-alliance propaganda spread by remnants of the scattered Independents. ‘Cept the more they denied it, the more folks believed it. Till one day some suit got the bright idea to begin pointin’ fingers. Key members of parliament were accused of treason, kangaroo court trials commenced, and heads rolled to appease the mob. Course this left some holes in the power structure that needed fillin’. Commence the next decade o’ backbitin’ and infightin’ among the top brass.

Now, while they were focused on getting’ their house in order, some folks took advantage o’ those inward turned eyes and carved up the rest o’ the Verse. Outer Rim planets once under the boot of Alliance Purple Bellies suddenly found themselves absent their oppressors. Course, it didn’t take long for new oppressors to arrive in the form o’ the gangs. Every crook and petty thief with delusions o’ standin’ sought to make themselves king o’ some little rock in the Verse.

Eventually some suit named herself Prime Chancellor o’ the Alliance, finally getting’ their fèihuà together, and findin’ their hold on the Outer Rim lessened. Now the Alliance is makin’ “unification” efforts to bring the crime lords to heel, and tensions are runnin’ high. Miranda may be in the past, but it ain’t been forgotten by some. Tempers are risin’, and it seems war is loomin’ in the Verse again.

That’s where I come in. My name’s Maia Serra. I was raised in House Madrassa by my mom, High Priestess of House Madrassa Inarra Serra. Never knew my dad. Mom says I was the result of a romance that smoldered slowly, blazed hot, then went out like a birthday candle in a blizzard. So she went back to the Companion house to raise me, and soon moved up in the ranks. But a Companion’s life didn’t suit me much, so she sent me to live with my aunt Zoe and her son, my cousin Hobun Washburne Jr..

Apparently before he died Aunt Zoe’s husband had invested in some cheap land to surprise her with should they decide to raise a family. Turns out that “cheap land” was sittin’ on a hefty deposit of some rare mineral. So after cousin Hobun was born, she leased it out to be mined for a pretty penny and bought herself some land and cattle, and now runs one of the largest cattle ranches on Triumph.

Aunt Zoe was strict but fair. Raised cousin Hobun with the military discipline she learned in the war. Course that made him a bit of a stick in the mud with no discernible sense o’ humor most of the time, but I’ve never met anyone more dependable. He’s the spittin’ image of his daddy, ‘cept for him havin his ma’s hair and complexion. Even bein’ a year older, he’s plenty easy to convince to getting’ into trouble, to the constant ire o’ his momma. From the day we met, when I put him in the dirt for implyin’ I was soft, he’s followed my lead and we’ve been inseparable. More akin to siblins’ than cousins.

So it didn’t take much for me to convince him to run off with me to Persephone with the promise of adventure. We even managed to meet up with a family friend, Sylvie Tam, who lives on Persephone with her brilliant and wealthy doctor father and genius mechanic mother. Odd pair, those two, but full o’ love for their kids. Sylvie’s got a twin brother, Kyle, who up and joined the Purple Bellies to spite his parents. But Sylvie is more laid back. That girl knows her way around an engine, and is a wiz when it comes to patchin’ up scrapes. She’s gotta be the kindest, most compassionate person I ever met…

But I’m getting’ off topic. The three of us started our own little crew with another boy named Beck, never gave no last name. Boy’s built like an ox, and clever to boot, but wouldn’t hurt a fly. Less you mess with them he calls friend, then he’s a wreckin’ ball o’ muscle.

And now you’re caught up. These days we’re doin’ jobs ‘round the Eavesdown Docks. Latest job was for this fella name o’ Badger, who pretty much runs the docks, nickin’ a package from some fancy research facility. Things were shiny, too, till we ran afoul of a bit of bad luck. Seems our intel was outta date, and the guard’s shifts were changed. Now we’re runnin’ from some private muscle. And to add more to our troubles, as if we weren’t screwed enough, Badger now wants us to deliver the package off world. ‘Cept we ain’t got no ship.

So now we’re dodgin’ armed muscle and lookin’ for a nondescript ship to lift so’s we can get paid. And it seems our struggles are just startin’…

“Which way we goin’, H?” I hollered.

“You know I hate when you call me that.” Was his reply.

“Yeah, well, Hobun don’t exactly roll off the tongue. So which way?”

“Let’s try the east side.” Sylvie chimed in. “Lotta freighters and cargo ships dock there when they don’t have immediate cargo to move or are on an extended planet side stay. May be we find a small ship whose crew is getting crocked.”

“You sure?” Hobun asked. “There’s no guarantee there’ll be an empty ship.”

Just then a bullet ricocheted off a post by Hobun’s head.

“East side sounds good!” He shouted, duckin’ as we all cut towards the east. Behind us, two of the lab’s private security guards were closin’ the distance. Seein’ a stack of crates filled with questionable produce, I tipped it over. The satisfyin’ grunt of grown men bitin’ the dust in a tangle greeted my ears shortly after.

It bought us some time, but not long after the sounds of pursuit got closer again. Thankfully, the east side of the docks came into view. Unfortunately, there was only one small, beat up ship visible. Its markins’ were so faded that they were illegible, but it looked like it was still whole. We took cover behind a rusted loader to catch our breath and assess our options.

“How about that one?” I called over to Hobun. “Will that do?”

“That’s an 03-K64-F…” Hobun started goin’ into its specs. Did I mention he’s a ship nut?

“I don’t need its history. Just tell me it can fly and get us to Hades.”

“Shouldn’t be a problem. That model is made to last. Course, Sylvie’ll need to rut around the engine a bit to see if’n it can even hold together once we break atmo.” Hobun looked over at Sylvie expectantly.

“If you can fly her, I can keep her in the air. Ma taught me well.” Sylvie confirmed.

“Uh, guys? We’ve got company.” Beck chimed in, gesturin’ back the way we had come. Sure enough, those two goons had just entered the dock area and were lookin’ around.

“Seems we don’t have no choice. This is our ride. Sylvie, you make for the engine room and fire her up. H, you hit the cockpit. Take whatever shortcuts you gotta to get us in the air without compromisin’ the ship. Beck, you’re with me. As soon as those engines fire up, those fellas are gonna be on us quick. We gotta give ‘em somethin’ else to worry about so’s they don’t go radioin’ our position to their buddies afore we’re airborne. Got it?”

Everyone nodded, and we waited till the two guards were facin’ the other way before makin’ a mad dash to the ship. Unfortunately, we didn’t quite make it onto the cargo bay ramp before we were spotted and the guards opened fire. We took cover behind what looked like a broke down forklift in the cargo bay, my brain turnin’ to try and figure a way outta our current predicament.

“Who in the hells is makin’ such a ruckus on my gorram boat!?” a gruff voice shouted, soundin’ a bit slurred. “Can’t a man take a nap in peace without someone makin’ a racket?”

Into the cargo bay stumbled a disheveled man in his early fifties. He was wearin’ a faded and patched brown duster that reminded me o’ Aunt Zoe’s old war jacket, and had what looked to be a bottle of whiskey in his left hand. His hair was brown but grayin’, and his skin looked weathered. He spotted our group hunkered down behind the forklift and squinted in our direction.

“Who in the hells are you, and why are you on my ship?” He demanded. Before any of us could answer, the two guards let off another round of gunfire, and a puff of dust came off the shoulder o’ the man’s jacket as a bullet grazed him, with a second bullet shatterin’ his bottle of liquor. He stared down at the new hole for a second, bewildered, before starin’ at the broken bottle and then glarin’ in the direction of the guards.

“Gorram it, that was my last bottle o’ hooch!” He hollered and, despite his obviously inebriated state, drew a pistol I hadn’t noticed faster than I could follow and let loose six shots into the guards’ body armor, sendin’ ‘em scramblin’ for cover. But just then the guards’ back up showed up, most likely drawn to the sound of the first round of gunfire. The man let out an impressive and creative string of Chinese expletives, and stumbled over to the bay door control box, closin’ it up as the sound o’ bullets off metal rang through the hold. Then he turned his attention to us.

“Normally it’s polite to ask permission o’ the captain before boarding, but given our current situation we’ll dispense with immediate pleasantries. Can any of you fly this boat?” He demanded, all signs o’ inebriation gone.

“I can.” Hobun volunteered.

“Good. Get to the cockpit and get us in the air. Also, someone needs to get to the engine room and fire us up.”

“That would be me.” Sylvie offered, already movin’ towards the engine room.

“Shiny. The rest of you find somewhere to strap in. Once we break atmo, we’ll all have us a cozy chat as to why you’re on my boat, and you can convince me why I shouldn’t toss you off of it.” With that he walked off, sparin’ a forlorn look at the now spilled whiskey on the deck.

Half hour later we’re all gathered in the galley sittin’ around a big table with the old man, lookin’ a little more composed, starin’ down at us. Hobun had a course set in and was lookin’ nervous, Sylvie was takin’ in everything around her, and Beck was studyin’ the old man the way he does new folk. As the old man was openin’ his mouth to speak, a large balding man in a sleeveless shirt walked in and stopped abruptly at the sight o’ us. He was muscular, though thick in the way of an aging man more fond o’ drink and less fond o’ exercisin’ the way he used to, with a big knife strapped to his hip and another tucked in his boot. I imagine there were a few other blades I couldn’t see. He gave us all a once over before lookin’ to the old man.

“Uh, Mal, there somethin’ goin on I ain’t aware o’?” He asked.

“There’s always somethin’ goin’ on that you ain’t aware of, Jayne. Now, take a seat. These fine folks are about to tell us why we had Alliance Special Forces firin’ at us not but a moment ago.”

“There was a firefight? Ah, hell, I miss all the fun.” The man called Jayne grumbled, takin’ a seat and cleaning his fingernails with his big knife, eyeballin’ Beck in the way I’d seen many a tough at a bar do, sizin’ him up.

“Those weren’t Alliance Special Forces.” Hobun corrected. “They were private security.”

“Boy, I may have been outta the world for a spell, but not so long that I don’t recognize Alliance goons. Now, hows about you get to the part where you explain the why, now that we’ve cleared up the who, of your pursuers.”

The rest looked to me, deferring to my discretion on how much to reveal. I chose to give the basics. Or at least I tried.

“We were hired to pick up a…” I began.

“Hired by who?” he immediately demanded.

“A guy we’ve worked for in the past.” Me.

“This guy got a name?” Him.

“Suppose he does. But it ain’t relevant.” Me.

“It’s relevant to me.” Him

“I don’t see how…” Me.

“It’s mighty cold out there, and you don’t seem to have a warm jacket, or a fine hat like Jayne likes to wear…”

“Hey, my momma made that hat.” Jayne muttered under his breath in interruption.

The old man gave him a brief stare till he quieted after a final “Just sayin’.” Before continuin’.

“As I was sayin’, mighty cold. So hows about you stop givin’ me the runaround and answer straight?” Him again. He was persistent.

“We were hired by a man called Badger…”

Insert more creative Chinese expletives here.

“…to steal a package from a lab. But our intel was old and we got caught on the way out. Those goons chased us. Then Badger gave us new orders. Get the package off world to Hades…”

Couple more expletives. He had quite the vocabulary.

“…and then we’ll get paid.”

“So you figured you’d jack my ship, hop on over to Hades, deliver your goods, then skip on back with nobody the wiser?” he asked, with what sounded like a smidgen of respect.

“Pretty much. Till we got pinned down, and you showed up. Now I figure we gotta change the plan. So hows about this. You give us a lift to Hades, and we cut you in on a percentage of the take. Then you drop us back on Persephone and we all go our separate ways.” I finished.

“We could use the credits, Mal.” Jayne interjected. “Ain’t had a job since you run off that last crew we had. Hell, ain’t been able to keep a crew long since you ran off In…”

“Jayne, your mouth is talkin’.” Mal interrupted. Kinda rudely, actually. “But you got a point. We’re needin’ credits, and it ain’t often work just falls in our laps. Though not too keen on doin’ a job for Badger again after that last debacle. What’s the take?”

I dropped a figure and Jayne whistled. It was definitely a higher number than our usual, though with the trouble we run into, I was beginnin’ to see why no one else had taken the job.

“Shiny. We’ll take 25% of the take, you can split the rest among yourselves as you see fit.” Mal finally said after some apparent thought.

“25%! You’re insane! That’s robbery just to give us a ride.” I argued, my crew grumblin’ their agreement.

“A ride you wouldn’t have otherwise, and it’s a real long walk to Hades.” He countered smugly. “Not to mention my thrilling heroics in savin’ your hides.”

“25 is too much. I’ll give you 10 even. It’s fair enough.” I counter offered.

“Hows about 20. You need a ship to get there and back. Seems you need me more than I need you.”

“Ugh, fine, I’ll cut you in for 15. Highest I can go. We got needs, too.”

“Well,” he started, lookin’ over at Jayne, who shrugged “seems I’ll have to settle for a pittance, but I guess I can agree to 15%. You drive a hard bargain.” He finished, extendin’ his hand. I reached out and shook it, feelin’ proud o’ myself for driving his number down so much while only raisin’ mine a little, till I saw the gleam in his eye.

“You knew I’d settle on 15! You played me and got exactly what you expected!” I accused.

“Course I did.” He confirmed with a chuckle. “You always start high. Make the other guy, or gal in this instance, work towards your real number. That way they feel better about you getting’ what you wanted. And I’ll let you have that piece of advice for free.”

He adjusted his gun belt, leavin’ his hands on his buckle, and his expression changed to somethin’ less serious. His eyes took on a bit of a glimmer, but with my companion training I could see that there was a haunted look to him. Especially after Jayne’s cut-off comment about runnin’ someone off.

“Well, now that business is outta the way, hows about we move onto some pleasantries. As I’m sure you’ve picked up, I’m Mal, Malcolm Reynolds, captain o’ this here ship. That big lump of flesh and muscle is Jayne, he handles Public Relations for our little operation. Now, who might you all be?” He asked.

“Well my name’s Maia Serra…” at that I could see his eyes tighten and that haunted look deepen “and this here’s my cousin Hobun Washburne Jr.. That over there is Sylvie Tam, and the big guy is Beck.” At each name, not includin’ Beck’s, his look darkened. He seemed to go through several emotions at once, from pain, to shock, and finally settlin’ on anger.

“An how old might you be, Ms. Serra?” He asked, clipping off the last name. Jayne seemed to have a puzzled look on his face,

“Goin on 20 few months out. But I have experience in this kinda work, if that’s your worry.” I assured him, though I had the feelin’ my experience wasn’t the issue he was havin’. He abruptly let out another expletive and turned to leave.

“Hey, Mal” Jayne called after him. Mal stopped briefly to look back. “Weren’t Inara’s last name Serra?” He finished. Without a word Mal left, leavin’ the rest of us to look at Jayne in shock. When he noticed he grunted out an oblivious “What’d I say?”

After a bit of coercion, and not a little bribery, we finally got some o’ the story outta Jayne. Seems my mother used to fly on this ship along with Hobun and Sylvie’s parents before we was all born. We had known they all knew each other from years ago, but could never get any of ‘em to say how. Seemed somethin’ bad had happened, and none of ‘em wanted to talk about it. Even Jayne was fuzzy on the details, simply sayin’ “They up and left. Never did bother askin’ why.” And then said he was goin’ to his bunk.

After he left we all just sat there in silence. Well, all ‘cept for Beck, who decided he was hungry and got up to raid the galley for food. He never did do awkward well.

The next of us to move was Sylvie. She got up and began walkin’ around the room, closin’ her eyes and runnin’ her hands along the bulkhead. Feeling the pulse, she called it. Did it any time we were on somethin’ with an engine. I watched her for a spell, takin’ in the look o’ peace on her face, the wistful smile as she felt the thrum o’ the engine through the metal. The girl was a wonder. Then I saw Hobun had noticed me noticin’ her, and I quickly found somethin’ else to notice. That was when Sylvie spoke up.

“Our parents. On this very ship. Can you imagine? What are the odds?” She asked, fingers trailin’ down a steel girder.

“Bet your aunt could tell us.” Hobun responded. “That woman is a genius. A sweet, scary, sometimes psychotic genius. Which I say with much love.” He quickly added as Sylvie leveled her gaze on him. The girl seemed like a flower in a field, but she had spent a lotta time with her aunt, and could stop a rowdy, belligerent drunk cold with that stare. I didn’t care to think on what that look did to me. I shivered.

“Well whatever the odds, we’re here.” I added as Beck rejoined us, munchin’ happily on what appeared to be a protein ration. That boy could enjoy anythin’ so long as it was food.

“Maia, you don’t think Captain Reynolds could be…” Hobun began.

“I don’t know.” I interrupted.

“But the timing…” he tried again.

“I don’t know.” I repeated, getting’ frustrated.

“But you saw his reaction…” the boy could also be persistent.

“Hobun!” I yelled, slamming my hand on the table, startlin’ Sylvie and Beck. They weren’t used to seeing me lose my cool. Hobun was typically the only one who got that privilege. “I said I don’t know, and honestly I don’t even want to think about it right now.” I finished, calming down. My hand stung, but I’d be damned if I let on. I stood and headed towards the crew quarters. “I’m gonna go see what’s going on. H, you get us to Hades as quick as you can. I want this trip done with. Sylvie, check on the engine and see if you can’t give us a boost. Seems your ma may have had a fair amount of time with it, and may have added some modifications you might recognize and be able to make sense of. Beck” he looked up from his protein block “enjoy your meal and get some rest. Doubt we’ll be needin’ you much for this leg.” He went back to munchin’, brushin’ a few stray crumbs off his shirt as I exited.

“Maia” Hobun called. I turned to glance back at him. “Keep flyin’.” It was a sayin’ his ma had taught us when she wanted us to persevere through tough times.

“Keep flyin’.” I said back, then went to find the captain. And maybe more.

I found him in his bunk. Or, more accurately, heard him. He was hollerin’ quite loudly. Couldn’t make out everythin’ he said, but overheard enough.

“How could you not…shoulda told me…deserved to know…she’s my…you hadn’t the right…we ain’t done talkin’…” and then he went silent. Next thing I know he’s climbin’ outta his bunk mutterin’ “Gorram woman.” Before noticin’ me.

“Was that my mom?” I asked as innocently as I could, not wantin’ him to know I had been listenin’.

“You heard all that, I take it.” Seems he knew.

“Yeah, but only cause I was listenin’. You’re a bit loud, and the door was open.” That seemed to make him grin for some reason.

“Yeah, well, she always did have a way of getting’ under my skin. No offense meant, of course. That’s your ma, and she’s deservin’ o’ respect.” He added sheepishly.

“I told H, I mean Hobun, to give us a bit of a push towards Hades, and Sylvie went to see if she can’t convince the engine to speed us along even more. No sense makin’ this trip any longer than it need be.” I informed him. It dawned on me that Hobun would need to pass by us to get to the cockpit to follow those orders, and I hadn’t seen him yet. Guess he was givin’ me a bit of time to have this conversation privately. The boy did have some sense in him, I reckon.

“Givin’ orders on my ship, are we? You ain’t thinkin’ o’ startin no mutiny, are ya? Cause in all honesty, I suspect Jayne may well join ya.” He responded, smirkin’ a bit.

“Mal, I need to ask you somethin’. And I’d like a straight answer. Are you…” I started hesitantly, but he cut me off ‘fore I could finish.

“Still a might drunk? Suppose I am, though getting’ shot at does have a soberin’ effect on a fella.” Artful dodge, and probably an honest answer, too, judgin’ from the way he was swayin’. But not the answer I needed.

“No, what I mean to ask is…” I tried again.

“Miffed at you all for trying to shanghai my ship? I was, but you offer solid work, and I could be usin’ it. Don’t much like workin’ for Badger, but when he does pay, it ain’t half bad.”

“I wasn’t askin’…what do you mean “when he does pay”? Nevermind. I need to know…”

“As I recall, you gave some orders to your pilot to get us goin’, and I ain’t seen hide nor hair o’ him since we started this chat, and I’m thinkin’ we ain’t gonna while it’s goin’ on. So hows about we adjourn this here meetin’ till a later date, and pick it up once some parties have had a spell to think things over, and possibly sober up. After getting’ roarin’ drunk again, if I can find a drop of liquor left on this boat.” With that he brushed past me, headin’ off into the ship. Not long after, Hobun slunk by, givin’ my shoulder a pat before takin’ a seat at the helm and togglin’ a few switches.

I spent the next few hours familiarizin’ myself with the ship, findin’ all kinds o’ things that reminded me of stories my ma told about her time aboard. A scuff mark in the decking of the cargo hold where part of a reaver ship nearly killed Mal. A tic-tac-toe square scratched into the wall, most likely from Sylvie’s ma and Aunt River playin’ a game. Even my ma’s old shuttle still had lingerin’ signs o’ her former occupancy in the form of tattered and molderin’ wall hangins’ and curtains. And all of it drawin’ me back to the bits I overheard o’ the captain’s conversation. Thankfully I was jarred out of my musin’ by Hobun over the coms.

“Uh, hello? Does this thing even work?” Followed by a few banging sounds and a feedback whine followed by “Uh, could Mr. Malcolm, I mean Captain Reynolds, and Maia please come to the bridge? Thank you.”

Mal was waitin’ for me when I got to the bridge, lookin’ quite impatient. I can only imagine the row between him and Hobun about waitin’ for me. I wasn’t on the bridge two seconds before he turned to Hobun.

“Alright, now that everyone’s here, what’ve you got, Wash?” He commanded. I could see Hobun give a start at the use of his father’s old nickname, but he recovered quick enough.

“Well sir, Maia, we’ve got a wave comin’ in from Persephone. Official channel. No ID.”

“Who could know we’re out here?” Mal mused. “Well, let’s not keep ‘em waitin’. Put ‘em through and let’s get this done with. There’s cargo to deliver.”

Hobun nodded, and flipped a switch to access the Cortex. An image appeared on the screen of a man in a bowler hat, suit jacket over a t-shirt and vest, with a tie loosely knotted around his neck and a gem studded flamingo pin on his lapel. His slimy smile spread wide as we came on screen on his end, and his voice was just as gravely as I remembered from our last interaction.

“Cap’n Reynolds.” He began, his Dyton Colony accent still thick as ever. “I ‘ad ‘onestly thought ye’d be dead by now, either stabbed in the back by a drunk in some dark alley, or murdered in your sleep by that ‘alf-trained ape yer still flyin’ wit. So imagine my surprise when a little birdie told me that not only are ye still alive, but once again yer flashin’ yer ass at the gorram law, and with my cargo!”

“Badger. What an unpleasant surprise.” Mal drawled. “I hear the years have been good to ya. Runnin’ the show behind the scenes is definitely a step up from petty crimin’. So with you bein’ all official and such now, it has me wonderin’. Why do ya need a bunch o’ kids to do yer theivin’ for ya? Why not just order yer fed thugs to move the goods for ya?”

“Mal, always thinkin’ short term. That’s why I’m king of my ‘ill, and yer still limpin’ along drunk on that boat o’ yers. Ye don’t mix business wit pleasure.” Badger leaned in, continuin’ “Them goods are fer a…private endeavor o’ mine. Got me a right eager bunch waitin’ fer it, too. So don’t pull yer usual stunts an’ screw this up!”

“Is that why ya called? Why hell, I coulda saved ya the trouble. I’m getting’ too old fer shenanigans. My days o’ dashin heroics are behind me. Back to the basics. I do a job, I get paid.” Mal’s voice turned a bit menacin’ as he finished “We clear on those terms?”

Badger smiled back “Perfec’ly! Get them goods to where they’re goin’, and everyone walks away ‘appy. Don’t, and…” he trailed off, leavin’ the threat unsaid but evident as he began to turn away. But when Hobun went to cut the connection, he turned back “Oh, and I thought ye might want te know. Ye’ve a Fed on ya. Seems someone may ‘ave tipped ‘em off te yer location. ‘Appy flyin.” And he severed the connection.

“Ching-wah TSAO duh liou mahng!” Mal swore, along with a few other colorful phrases. He kicked the co-pilots chair, which I can’t imagine did feel so great, cause he followed it up with “Liou coe shway duh biao-tze huh hoe-tze duh ur-tze!”

“So, did he rat us out to the feds, or…” Hobun began to ask.

“Course he ratted us out to the gorram feds!” Mal snapped. “Ain’t the first time, either. He’s playin’ both ends, and bein’ in the middle is the last place I was lookin’ ta be. How much longer till we reach Hades?”

“We give it a good burn, we can be there in just under an hour. Course, we’re just as like to come apart at the seams, or blow the compression coil as make atmo. But whichever it is will definitely happen within an hour.” Hobun answered.

“Fine. I’ll be in my bunk. Let me know if we blow up.” Mal ordered, then stormed off.

“Well that was…something.” Hobun declared, spinnin’ back to the controls, hittin’ the throttle to give us more speed.

“Yeah. Somethin’…” I trailed off. After a few moments of musin’, I turned back to Hobun. “Hey H, what do ye s’pose we’re carryin?”

“C’mon Maia, you know we don’t ask questions. Like Mal, I mean Captain Reynolds, said” deepening his voice he finished “We do a job, we get paid.” At which point we both gave a laugh.

“Well now, that ain’t half bad.” A deep voice claimed from behind me. Turnin’ quickly I noticed Jayne had somehow come up on us quietly. “Course, he usually sounds like he’s got a bigger stick up his pìgu.” He seemed to hesitate a bit before asking “So, you really Wash an Zoe’s kid?”

“Yeah…” Hobun started.

“Ahem. Well. Me and your dad, we didn’t really see eye to eye much, on account that he was shorter, and a might squeamish, and was a real pain in the…” he stopped when he noticed us starin’, and squirmed uncomfortably “Anyway, none o’ that matters. What I mean to say is, your dad weren’t no coward. And in the end there he really saved our hide. I didn’t get the chance to tell ‘im, so I just wanted say that.” He locked eyes with Hobun, gave a nod, and abruptly fled the bridge.

“He seems like a fun guy.” Hobun commented, once again turnin’ his attention back to the console. “Hey, you mind goin’ back and tellin’ Sylvie that the right stabilizer is pullin a bit? I tried ringin’ her on the intercom, but I don’t think it’s receiving on her end.”

“Yeah, no problem.” I said, turnin’ to leave the bridge.

“Shiny.”

Headed back towards the engine room, I passed Beck, plate full of protein bars and a bottle that he apparently scrounged up from somewhere, headed towards the cargo bay.

“Figured I’d keep an eye on the cargo, since I seem to be the only one not having some kind of reunion.” He declared, blunt as always. Good ole dependable Beck. Leave it to him to sum up a complicated mess is such a simple way.

“Good idea. We should be offloadin’ soon. Less we blow up on the way.” I called back as I passed, and smirked at the look of panic that came over his face. Beck never did much like leavin’ atmo.

As I got closer to the engine room, I could hear Sylvie as she tinkered around.

“No way! How’d she get that much output from…Oh, I get it, she spliced it with with…But how did she compensate for…Ah, now I see. Mom, you’re a genius!”

Sylvie always did have a knack for machines like her ma. Aunt Kaylee could listen to a machine run and tell you every thing that needed doin’ to get her purrin’ right again. And Sylvie worshipped her ma. And after Kyle went off to Purple Belly school, the two grew even closer. I can only imagine how much she’s lovin’ bein’ in an engine room her ma had complete control over for years.

“Hey Sylvie, H wanted me to tell you the right stabilizer is pullin’ a bit.”

“Yeah, he buzzed me already to fix it. You’d think he’d have remembered that, huh?” Sylvie asked, no trace of suspicion in her tone. Unlike myself, who would be havin’ some words with Hobun later.

“Well, while you’re here, come look at this.” Sylvie invited, gesturin’ towards the massive rotating core of the engine. “Mom did a complete overhaul of these systems, and most of ‘em are still runnin’ like new. Guess when they unfroze dad’s assets, she was able to really have a go at this baby and give her a proper tune up and customization. You can see here where she modified…”

She went into some technical breakdown on whatever modifications her ma had made to the engine. Honestly it was all Greek to me. But it was always a pleasure to see her light up when talkin’ about an engine. Nothin’ made this girl happier than bein’ covered in grease, takin’ apart some machine or another to find out how it ticked, and then tweakin’ it. Got us outta a fair share o’ scrapes, too. She really was a wonder. I musta gotten lost in my thoughts, ‘cause she said my name with enough force to make me realize it hadn’t been the first time.

“Huh?”

“I said, do you think the captain’ll let us stay on a bit after we finish the job?” She repeated, brushin’ a stray strand of hair behind her ear, leaving a streak of grease behind in the process. Was it hotter in here suddenly? “I’d love a chance to get a longer look at mom’s work. This engine remodel is a masterpiece.”

Ok, how to handle that one. Did I wanna stay on a ship where the grumpy drunk of a captain might be my…? Nope, not goin’ down that road. But Sylvie was so happy. I didn’t wanna crush her. Time for some Companion training. Tell her what she needs to hear. Make it smooth. You got this.

“Doubtful. Don’t think the captain likes us much.” Her face fell

Yeah, smooth. Smooth as sandpaper. I stammered some excuse and high tailed it outta there. Yeah, Hobun was gonna be in for it.

I found things to occupy myself for the next half hour or so. There were a lot of hidin’ places on this ship to learn. Suddenly Hobun came over the com calling me and the captain to the bridge again.

“Uh, we’ve got an alliance ship closing. I’d shake em, but I’m pretty sure that shakin’ them’ll shake us apart.” Hobun reported.

“Tzao gao!” Mal cursed. “They hail us yet?”

“Yeah, standard ‘kill the engines and prepare to be boarded’ order.” Hobun looked between the two of us “We runnin’ or…?” He trailed off.

“No point o’ that now.” Mal responded. “You two, stow the cargo. Jayne can show you were. I’ll meet our Purple Bellied friends at the air lock. May be a chance we can talk our way outta this here conundrum o’ ours.” He ordered, grabbin’ a leather bound folder from a stack of similar folders stuffed into a hidden compartment under the console.

Me and Hobun were just comin’ back from stashin’ the goods when we heard the hiss of the airlock, and the doors squeal open. Four Purple Belly soldiers poured in, one with his gun aimed at Mal while the other three swept the cargo bay as their commander strolled in.

“Hey, isn’t that…?” Hobun started to ask, and I chose that moment to practice some of the expletives I’d learned from the captain.

“Go see to Sylvie. Keep her in the engine room.” I told Hobun.

“What’re you gonna do?” He asked.

“Try to keep the captain from getting’ us arrested.

As I walked down the stairs into the cargo bay, I could hear Mal casually chattin’ with the Purple Belly in charge.

“Just a routine trip, stretchin’ our legs and seein’ what’s about. Ain’t much to haul these days ‘cept passengers.” He said with a smile.

“Is that so Captain…” he glanced back at the leather bound folder with forged registration papers “…Book, is it?” He finished, voice thick with suspicion.

“That’s right. Ain’t nuttin’ here but…” before he could finish I sidled up.

“Kyle? Is that you?” I asked, addin’ a tone of astonishment and a hint o’ joy to my voice, takin’ it up a few octaves.

“It’s Sergeant Tam Ms…Maia, is that you?” Kyle asked, genuine surprise on his face.

“Tam, as in…” Mal started to ask.

“The Osiris Tams, renowned surgeon and verse famous mechanic couple of the Central Planets? Absolutely.” Turnin’ back to Kyle, I let my smile get even larger. “Hot dang, it’s been ages since I saw you. And would you look at you, a sergeant already.” I moved in closer, runnin’ a finger along the seams of his uniform, watching his ears turn a bit red as he tried to stammer an answer. I always did have that effect on him. “And I almost didn’t recognize you, all that training you got. Really packed on that muscle.” I added, giving his bicep a squeeze. He was definitely no Beck, but he had toned up. Guess that companion trainin’ did come in handy on occasion. Even if it was on the wrong Tam.

“Ahem. Well, yes. My exemplary skills at memorization and knack for leadership set me on a fast track to promotion. Now I lead this patrol out of Persephone.” He glanced back at Mal. “But what are you doing here? This…gentleman…says he is ferrying some passengers out to Hades?” The suspicion crept back into Kyle’s voice. He could always sniff out when anyone was lyin’. Well, almost anyone.

“That’s right. Captain Book here was kind enough to give us a lift. Me and Hobun decided we wanted to take a spell and see the worlds, and we were short on credits. The captain is letting us pay our way by crewing. You remember how good a pilot Hobun is, right?”

“I heard you had been running with my sister as well…” he added, a bit of pain creepin’ into his voice. He may have joined up to spite his parents, but he had been genuinely hurt when his twin had turned her back on him as well. If he asked to see her, we might be in some trouble. She wasn’t shy about voicing her…displeasure. Sometimes with a right hook.

“Sylvie? You know her, can’t pry her away from an engine to get away from a fire.” I chuckled, givin’ his bicep a playful rub and drawing his attention back to my smile. “It has been so good to see you again. I hope we haven’t caused you any trouble now?” I asked, adding a bit of a whimper to my tone. He swallowed hard.

“Well…” he started, looking to one of his men who had just returned from checkin’ the ship.

“Nothing out of the ordinary sir. Story checks out. Registration tag on the hull doesn’t match, though.”

“No trouble at all.” He finally said, regainin’ some composure. Though he looked a bit down when I removed my arm. Boys were soooo easy. He nodded to his men to leave and handed Mal back his documents. “Oh, Captain.”

“Yeah?” Mal replied, appearin’ surprised at being addressed.

“You may want to see about your registration seal. It’s out of date.” He added, before followin’ his men to the airlock door. Before closin’ it, he turned back. “And Maia, next time you’re in Persephone, send a wave. It would be great to catch up.”

“Absolutely!” I replied, turnin’ up the smile. He smiled back and closed the door. I didn’t relax till I heard his ship undock, and let out a sigh as my body adjusted back into my usual stance. I forgot how easy it was to shift body language when necessary. I gave a quick thanks to my ma for insistin’ I receive trainin’. I turned to find Mal watchin’ me.

“Well now. You are definitely your mother’s daughter.” He commented. And I thought I caught somethin’ in his tone. Was that a hint of…respect? He looked past me to the airlock door. “I do believe that boy is sweet on you.”

“Kyle? We go way back.” I answered, lookin’ back over my shoulder “Was a time when he had his eye on me. But he made his choices, and…” I stopped as Sylvie stormed in, anger clear on her face and a huge wrench in her hand, Hobun scramblin’ after her.

“And your eye went elsewhere.” He finished, a knowin’ grin on his face as Sylvie stormed down the stairs. He wisely stepped back.

“Where is he?!” Sylvie demanded, looking around the cargo hold. “Where is that no good, BUN tyen-shung duh ee-DWAY-RO, back stabbing Purple Belly brother of mine?” she finished, using some of the most colorful mandarin I’d ever heard her use. Was it hot in here?

“He left, Sylvie. He let us go.”

“No way. That little traitor has a bigger stick up his pìgu than anyone I ever met. No way he’d let us off.”

“Sylvie, he let us go. He knew Mal was lyin’ and he still let us go.” I added. That seemed to set her back, and catch Mal’s attention.

“Say what now?” He asked, perplexed.

“Captain Book? Seriously?” I asked.

“What? I happen to like that alias.” He said defensively.

“Yeah, and you used it on a man who grew up hearin’ stories about the great Shepard Book, a preacher who flew on a Firefly.” I emphasized the ship model. “You don’t think the son of Simon Tam, nephew to River Tam, couldn’t see through that one?”

“Well how was I s’posed to know?” He shot back, irritated “More’n twenty years gone by and I ain’t seen hide nor hair of none of ya, and some I ain’t even known existed. Now my skies are full of ya! How’s a guy supposed to know who’s who?” He demanded.

“Well it’s done now, and he let us go. H, how much longer to Hades?” I asked, turnin’ to Hobun.

“Not long. Less than thirty minutes, if the engines hold.” He answered, lookin’ to Sylvie.

“Oh, they’ll hold. Ma don’t fix nothin’ that don’t hold. The retrofits she did to this ship, she’d hold together another 10 years with a competent mechanic.” She side eyed Mal, “With what she’s had, she’ll hold together at least another year or so.”

“Well then,” Mal started, ignorin’ her dig, “let’s get this done. My ship’s awful crowded, and now I got feds sniffin’ ‘round, which I don’t much care for. And the sooner I ain’t beholden to Badger, the better.” He finished, headin’ off to his bunk, most like to try and find the remnants of a bottle.

Hobun left right after to head back to the bridge, while Sylvie made her way back to the engine room. Just then, Beck wandered into the cargo hold munchin’ on a Fruity Oaty bar. I had no idea where he found them, as the company went out o’ business about ten years back after it came out that their commercials had embedded messages in ‘em, but he managed to get his hands on several cases a few months back and was steadily makin’ his way through ‘em. He looked around at everyone leavin’ as he took another bite.

“I mish somfin’?” He asked, mouth full of food.

“Nothin’ important. Go retrieve the goods. I stashed ‘em in a panel above the table in the galley. We should be offloadin’ it soon, and I want it ready.”

“You gosh it, bosh” he said, taking another bite and headin’ towards the galley. You could always count on Beck to follow orders. After he left I made my way back to the passenger quarters where we’d stashed our gear.

In no time Hobun’s voice crackled over the shipwide channel. “Few minutes out from atmo. Everyone strap in. May get a bit bumpy.” There was a click, then somewhat quieter we heard “If we don’t flat out explode on re-entry. Honestly, how is this gorram ship still flying? That entry coupler doesn’t look secure…”

I hit the nearest coms button and dialed up the bridge. “Uh, H, yer still on shipwide.”

“Crap!” Followed by another click “Uh, nothin’ to worry about folks. Ship’ll hold together just fine. I was just playin’.” Brief pause “But, uh, definitely strap in.”

I shook my head and went to check on the goods. Beck had followed my orders to a T and had the case laid out in the cargo bay, and was in the midst of strappin’ it down.

“We gonna explode, boss?” He asked, eyes a bit wide. The look of genuine fright on the face of such a large man was too much, and I burst out laughin’. Which caused the look of fear to become confusion, makin’ me laugh even harder.

“Thanks Beck, I needed that.” I said, wipin’ the tears from my eyes. “H’ll get us down in one piece,” the sound of wrenching metal caught my ear as the ship started to buck, “more or less. So no worries. Let’s just get paid, shi ma?” He nodded in response as another jolt wracked the ship. “I’m gonna go check on H. Make sure he does get us down in one piece. Go strap yourself in, no use all of us getting’ tossed about” I ordered, headin’ for the bridge.

From down the hall, I could already hear Mal hollerin’.

“You crashin’ my ship!?”

“Your ship’s more like to crash your ship than my flying.” Hobun snapped back “Sir.” He added belatedly.

“If anyone can land this tub, it’s H.” I assured Mal, steppin’ onto the bridge. Then I turned to Hobun “You put in the coordinates for the drop?”

“Already dialed in. We’ll be there in ten.”

“Shiny. Me and Beck’ll take the package to the buyer and get paid. Keep the ship hot, case we need to make a quick exit.”

“Will do, boss.”

“Now hold on, this here’s my ship, and I ain’t lettin’ those goods outta my sight till I get paid. So I’m comin’ with you to make the drop.” Mal informed me, none too kindly. Seems the hooch was wearin’ off, ‘cause his eyes were a might clearer.

“Fine. You and me make the drop. Beck and Jayne can cover us from the ship,” He stared me down, “if that’s alright by you, cap’n?” I asked, leanin’ hard into the sarcasm. He took a bit, sizin’ me up, before noddin’. Then he grabbed a mic.

“Jayne, Beck, soon as we land head to the cargo bay. Yer our backup.” From down the hall we could all hear Jayne’s grumbles. “No flak, Jayne. ‘Less you don’t wanna get paid?” Mal hollered back. The grumblin’ stopped, and Jayne came out from his bunk, a tattered cap on his head and the biggest gun I’d ever seen over his shoulder.

“So where we makin’ this drop, anyway?” Mal asked.

“Some lab. Didn’t ask for more info, and Badger didn’t exactly offer any up.”

“Sometimes fewer questions is best. We ever get the chance, I’ll tell you about a train job we pulled back when…,” he stopped, clearin’ his throat awkwardly, “anyway, best get yerself geared up. Not sure where you stand on firearms, but the armory is full o’ any bit o’ mean ye wanna be packin’. So long as you can use it, ‘course.”

I watched him walk away, barely even stumblin’ as another bit of turbulence rocked the ship, and wondered again if this old captain might actually be… Another shake of the ship brought me outta my musins’, and I quickly grabbed my gear and headed to the cargo hold. Several minutes of shakin’, and a jarrin’ landin’ that set my teeth rattlin’, and we touched down on Hades a few miles from the lab.

Mal was givin’ some last minute orders to Jayne and Beck, and Beck shot me a grin and a thumbs up over Mal’s shoulder. Good ole Beck, always encouragin’. But it made me smile, and helped settle some of my nerves as Mal finished talkin’ to Jayne.

“Now make sure you wait a good while to be sure we’re back afore bailing if things go south. I don’t wanna get left again like on Greenleaf.”

“Aw, Mal, it was one time. I apologized.” Jayne whined. Beck stifled a laugh as Mal just glared. Then he turned his glare on me.

“You ready for this youngin’? Ain’t too late to let an old hand make the drop.”

“This is my run. I’ll see it through.” I answered, and could swear I saw a look o’ approval in his eye as he turned to the bay doors.

“Right then.” He said as the doors opened. “Let’s go get paid.” He added, steppin’ forward.

“That’ll be a nice change.” Jayne muttered under his breath, and Mal paused a moment to glare at him again before continuin’, leavin’ me to carry the case.

As we were walkin’, I took some time to study Mal. On the surface he seemed gruff, rough cut, and drunk. But when ye dug a bit deeper, well, he was still gruff, rough cut, and drunk, but seemed to also have a quality I couldn’t place. Was that why Aunt Zoe always talked about him with such respect, and Aunt Kaylee with such affection? It was a puzzle, but I had somethin’ else on my mind as a more immediate concern.

“Why didn’t we take the mule?” I asked after we’d already walked a mile or so.

“Hmmm?” Was all I got.

“The mule. Why didn’t we take it? This some old smuggler’s trick te keep a low profile or somethin’”? I pressed.

“Ain’t had credits to gas ‘er up in years. So we walk.” He finally responded. Criminal mastermind, this one.

Eventually we saw the lab ahead. Big square buildin’, nothin’ gaudy, looked kinda like a frozen dinner pack with the solar sheeting wrapped round it. As we got closer a door opened and three people stepped out, one older man in a lab coat and two goons with rifles.

“Hi there.” Lab Coat called out, kinda nasally. “Would you happen to be the folks delivering our package from Persephone?”

“Ye…” I started, ‘fore Mal interrupted.

“Would you be the folks payin’ fer a package from Persephone?” He called back, leanin’ heavy on the “payin’” part.

“Ah yes, of course.” Lab Coat said “Please, come in. Your payment is just inside. Can’t be too careful, you know?”

Mal’s hand casually hovered over his pistol as we followed Lab Coat inside. The two goons stayed a ways back, but seemed to focus more on Mal than me as Lab Coat disappeared through a door. Rude.

Eventually Lab Coat returned with a younger woman, also in a lab coat. Lab Coat Number Two had a duffle bag, which she placed on a table. The sound o’ coin was sweet music to my ears.

“Now, our package, if you please?” Lab Coat Number Two asked, kinda snooty.

At a nod from Mal, I hauled the case up onto the table next to the duffle bag.

“Gently, if you would.” Snooty Lab Coat commented. “If the contents are damaged, your pay is forfeit.” She glared. Nasal Lab Coat looked on nervously.

“You didn’t open it, did you?” He asked, reaching to unclasp the latches on the case.

“Kept it snug as a baby in a basket.” Mal replied “Watched over by the prettiest nursemaids you ever did lay eyes on.”

Nasal Lab Coat hesitated, confused, before continuin’ to open the case as Mal turned and walked away. Leavin’ me to grab the heavy duffle bag, of course.

As they opened the case I saw ‘em remove a smaller case with some letters and numbers on the side, G-23 Pax-somethin’, but they took it away before I could see the rest. Somethin’ about it felt familiar, but I couldn’t get my brain to make the connection. Oh well, job done, and we had a bag of cash that needed distributin’. Me and Mal headed back to rejoin the rest of the crew.

“So you ready to be rid o’ us? Once Badger gets his share and you get yours, that is?” I asked, tryin’ to keep any disappointment out o’ my voice.

“I don’t know.” He replied, takin’ a bit of a pause “Yer crew ain’t half bad. And you got a good head on yer shoulders. That was quick thinkin’ the way you handled that fed. You got the makins’ of a fine crook,” he continued “with the right guidance, that is.” He added, almost like it was an after thought. My heart was racin’.

“You mean it?” I asked, tryin’ not to sound too excited. “Yer willin’ to keep us on as crew?”

“Well Jayne weren’t wrong. Now don’t you tell him that, hear me?” He added before continuin’ “Ain’t had much work of late, and it ain’t easy to get work without a crew. Y’all pull yer weight, do as yer told, and follow my lead, and there’s a place for ye on Serenity.” He paused and looked me dead in the eyes. “If yer wantin’ it, that is.”

It took every ounce of my restraint not to hug him. This man could be my…no, not going there. Not yet. But this was a start.

As we walked the rest o’ the way to Serenity in silence, I thought back on the last couple o’ days. The Verse was a mess. Who knew what game Sylvie’s brother Kyle was playin’ at. And I knew ma would be worried. But there’s a sayin’ Aunt Zoe taught me and Hobun to get us through any rough patch. Find a crew, find a job, keep flyin’. And that’s exactly what I planned to do.