Painting the Pony Red

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based on the World of Firefly by Joss Whedon

It was the first time she had stepped into Mal's ship and she secretly wished it had been for another reason. Had she gone with them, the outcome would have been different. Instead, Cat did an odd thing, she removed her leather boots and black socks before placing her bare feet on to the metal floor.

Light poured in from a single entry point, being the cargo bay door, but it was all that was needed. If the floor had once been gray, Cat would have hardly known. Blood covered every wall, catwalk, and doorway. The smell of cooper overwhelming any other scent besides that of decay. Sadly, even as much as death seemed to follow her around like a sick puppy, Cat still hated the smell. Her stomach voiced its reproach, but she silenced it.

Her bare foot hit the first patch and nearly did her in, but she was more stable on her bare feet than the boots she had discarded. She righted herself and continued inside. Dead men lay everywhere as her harsh green eyes took in the sight before her. She counted fifteen, no eighteen dead and this was just the cargo bay, though she seriously doubted they had gotten any further in, due to the metal casing littered across the floor. They were so numerous, they could have passed for confetti. Too bad, this wasn't a party.

Kaylee had said in her ramblings they had taken everyone, but she...could be an oversight or was she the messenger? The one left behind to tell Cat what they wanted her to know. They had what was important to her, Mal and River, and in turn, they also had what was important to Mal, his crew. They knew one or two she could easily rescue alone, but the rest, she would need help, and help required friends, something she had very little of.

A shot fired and then two others echoed through the cargo bay as she turned and ran to Kaylee. The captive had indeed lost his head and Kaylee sat with the smoking gun crying. “He moved. I saw him move.”