Act VIII - The Black

Hank manoeuvred Serenity into position, and the two ships docked with barely a bump.

“This is against medical advice,” Simon said, watching Mal put on his gunbelt and check his pistol was fully loaded.

“I understand that, doc. And I ain’t planning on going anywhere further than the cargo bay. But Theo and I have business, and I don’t intend to be at a disadvantage by lying down when we talk.”

“You’re better, but you’re not fully recovered. If you feel dizzy or disoriented -”

“I won’t be far.” Mal smiled at him. “Don’t you worry none.” He strode out of the infirmary.

“It’s my job to worry,” Simon muttered, then turned back to his other patient, sedated on the medbed.

Mal wasn’t surprised to see Zoe and Jayne in the cargo bay already, the former with her Mare’s Leg strapped to her thigh, the latter with enough weaponry about his person to start a small war.

“Is that grenades I can see?” he asked, nodding towards the mercenary’s chest.

“Never felt so naked as on Borodin, Mal,” Jayne explained. “Ain’t having that happen again.”

“They‘ll hear you comin‘ a mile away.”

“Better that than dead.”

Mal inclined his head a little in agreement, then looked at his first mate. “Open her up.”

“Yes sir.” She hauled the outer door open and stood back.

Theodore Hawkins stepped through, looking around the Firefly as he had done back on Ezra. “Captain.”

“Theo.”

“Are you recovered? Hank informed me about the daring rescue, and your own brush with death.”

“I’m getting there.”

“And are you planning on shooting me?” He glanced at the revolver on Mal’s hip.

“That’s up to you. I’ve been told what happened, and pretty much why. Now I want to hear the rest.”

“Is there any more, Captain?”

“Oh yeah. Like … why Saffron? And how’s she involved in your plans?”

“Ah. The lovely Janith.”

“That’s her.”

“Honestly, she wasn’t part of this. As such. But I suppose I had planned to take advantage of the dear woman.”

“Take advantage?