"Bad Business"

Annie M (trekgirl@blueyonder.co.uk)

Part: 2/6

See part one for disclaimers and summary

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Five men carrying various types of shotguns had met them as they'd entered the ramshackle warehouse and were led through a series of large, darkly lit storage areas.

Each room seemed to house merchandise and Mal spotted boxes and crates piled a top each other, technical gadgetry, spare parts and even what looked like the outline of ground transports in the semi-darkness.

Serenity's cargo hold could never hope to accommodate the contents of a single one of these hangers, Mal mused.

Passing into yet another large space the armed men turned to them and told them to wait. Mal watched one of the men approach a woman and whisper something in her ear.

Drooda, Mal surmised.

To call Drooda overweight would have been an understatement. She was an enormous woman, one who might have been called pretty in her youth, if you would have been able to distinguish her head from her neck and shoulders. She appeared to be middle-aged, possibly younger; bad skin and greying blonde hair made it difficult to say. She was sitting in what appeared to be a custom made chair, judging from the bright metal frames and struts that supported it.

Motioning with a flabby arm, she waved them closer while Jayne hung back.

The woman greeted Mal and Zoe through a haze of tobacco, blowing circles of smoke that disappeared up into the eaves.

"So you're Malcolm Reynolds," Drooda said, inhaling on her cigarette when Mal stood before her. "Badger sent word you might be coming my way."

Mal gave a rueful smile. "Word is you're looking for people, and my crew's the best there is."

Drooda gave a low chuckle, which quickly disintegrated into a low-pitched wheeze. "Badger said you get the job done," she managed once she'd recovered her breathing. "But I also hear say that you *shi gechu* a job with Adelei Niska."

"That was a misunderstanding--"

"Word is that you and yours done shot up some of his m