The explosion sent dust and grit everywhere, and Simon could taste it in his mouth, even with his arm covering his face. As the sound died away he looked up at Hank, who was grinning.

“They’re gonna be running every which way,” the pilot said, slapping his ears with the palms of his hands to clear the ringing.

“Let’s just hope Jayne uses it to his advantage,” Simon replied, doing the same.

There was shouting from one of the tunnels. “I think they might have figured the pacifiers are down,” Hank added, his grin, if possible, getting wider. “Should give them a chance.” Then different sounds, these much sharper, harder, and Hank’s smile faded. “Or maybe not.”

“Come on. We need to get back.” Simon tugged gently on the pilot’s sleeve, and Hank reluctantly turned to follow.

---

“What the hell is going on?” the man in the suit asked, turning, expecting to see one of the guards from outside.

Instead it was a blue tinted demon, dusted ultramarine, who had burst into the room. “Looking for Mal Reynolds,” it said. “’N’ I ain't inclined to wait for an answer.”

The man reached for the emergency button, to call for help but Jayne was too fast for him. He crossed the floor in a split, grabbing the man and lifting him from his feet, leaning hard against the wall.

“Looks like blood on the floor to me. Fresh too,” Jayne said conversationally. “Don’t seem to be yours, so I’m gonna make a leap here and say it’s his.”

“The guards will be back soon,” the man said, his voice trembling to match the shaking of his body. “They’ll –“

“You think?” Jayne asked. “I’d’a said they were too busy putting down the little uprising that’s going on out there. What with those pacifiers bein’ down. And you ain't answered my question.”

“I don’t know what you’re –“

Jayne held him up with one hand, reaching to the bandoleer around his chest. “Where is he?” he asked again. “And if I don’t get the answer I need, you’ll be eating this grenade.”

---

Mal woke up with the taste of blood and dust in his