Stupid, stupid, stupid. How could he have been so stupid? To be captured and trussed up like a turkey by a bunch of Border Planet, inbred, Browncoat peasants . A simple assignment too. Great. This was going to look just great with his supervisors. A simple assignment, that’s what they had said. Tail the rich brat and his big silver box, and once they were in a suitable position, hail the nearest Alliance complex or cruiser, hand the brat over, and get the praise, and maybe even a step closer to the promotion he had had his eye on for a while.

Things had gotten even better when the ship Simon Tam had chosen was a Firefly, ships everyone knew were used for one thing and one thing only: smuggling. Crossing interplanetary borders with a fugitive would land you in deep go-se, and they were clearly up to something else as well. As if he had believed for a moment that they were taking medical supplies to Whitefall. Catching smugglers too would put another notch on his belt.

Laurence Dobson winced again as the tiny knife he was using to saw away at his bonds caught on his skin again, slicing the top layer of flesh away like a hot knife through butter. The big mercenary may not have being stupid enough to accept his bribery, but he had only taken Dobson’s visible weapons, not thinking to do a proper weapons search. The knife, which had been strapped to the small of his back, was for such a situation as the one he found himself in now, easily accessible to bound hands. Sharper than a razor, and coated in a special sort of foil to avoid detection in metal scans, it was standard issue for a Federal Agent of his rank. With a pained grimace, he continued to saw. Being a fed had its perks, he had to admit: even his smallest, simplest weapon was far superior to anything that these commoners could lay their hands on. Not that they would be smart enough to try.

“Pain is scary,” the mercenary had said. What had Captain Reynolds called him? That was it, Jayne. A mercenary with a girl’s name, Dobson thought, amusement