Disclaimer thingy: Firefly/Serenity are owned by other folks and not by me, though I appreciate being able to write some stuff purely for fun inspired by the Firefly 'Verse. All constructive comments and feedback from you shiny readers out there much appreciated!

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Mal fell backwards and hit the ground heavily with a stunned gasp, as the breath was knocked out of him by the impact of the blow. For a moment he lay still, sprawled on his back in the dust; then his head turned to one side as he groped unsteadily to try to turn over. Before he could do so a booted foot slammed into his ribs, driving what little air he had left out of his lungs. He choked, fighting to breathe; then another kick caught him in the head and he blacked out.

Vaughan stepped back, rubbing his fist. He looked down at Mal where he lay on the ground, ready to strike again. Beside him Felix nodded. “You got him, boss. He ain’t gettin’ up any time soon.”

“Yeah.” Vaughan regarded Mal. “Reckon not.”

“Woulda been easier to shoot him,” commented Felix.

“Noisier too,” replied Vaughan. “Don’t want to attract any attention from anyone left on board. This way he’s out of the picture – and we can go in quietly.” He glanced up at the ship. “Likely there ain’t too many left, but best not to take chances. The merc and the nigger bitch were on that mule, but could be other muscle on the crew that we haven’t seen yet.” He smiled unpleasantly down at the unconscious Mal. “Though it doesn’t seem like this hwoon dahn has got much of a notion of security. I’ll bet he’s still holding my money.” He bent down and patted down the sides of Mal’s chest, then pulled open his coat to reveal a bulging inner pocket. “ Hah .” He pulled out the small leather bag and opened it, running his gaze over the coins. “Looks like it’s all there. Come back home to papa.” He stuffed the bag into his pocket and straightened up. “Looks like you should’ve given me that discount… Huh,