Episode 2

But Wash... Ain't you dead?

Prologue

I woke up as my face hit the floor. I tried to stand, realized my arms were cuffed behind me.

“Get up,” an officer told me.

The cool, constant temperature and even blue lighting of an Alliance ship hit me. Not like Serenity, where you could relish the unexpected.

Next to me, the Operative waited, already on his feet.

“I'm sorry for your involvement, Captain,” he said.

“Yeah, yeah,” I muttered. “You're sorry for everything these days.”

“Hey,” an officer said. “No talking.”

The Operative and I walked out of the small carrier ship and onto the Alliance Cruiser. Ten of the Alliance's youngest, cockiest, and stupidest escorted us. Each of them armed and ready to fire.

I took a good look around. Made for a pretty close space. Wouldn't take much to disarm them, grab a 'chute, throw open a hatch--

One look out the window busted up that idea. The curve of Persephone's rim gave way to stars and inky black. We were already in space.

An officer jabbed me in the back.

“Go,” he said.

The trek through the ship took us past their infirmary. Some poor soul lay bare on the table, a bed of bandages pulled over his face. Their doctor, knife and needle in hand, worked on a deep gash through his chest. Looked like an old wound, though, a bunch of scar tissue bundled up. Beside them, overlooking the procedure, was Lieutenant Thompson. He glanced at us as we passed, frowned, and came outside.

He grabbed the officer that liked to jab me in the back. “What the hell are you doing bringing them through here?”

“Taking them to the brig, sir, like you ordered.”

“I didn't order you to bring them past the infirmary,” Thompson said. “He's not ready. We're not--” Thompson looked at me, looked at the Operative, growled. “We've put too much time into this to screw it up.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good.” He pointed to us. “Next time, tak