Mal, Jayne and Zoe walked through the busy docks without saying a word, although the latter two exchanged glances every now and then, even as they scanned the crowds for signs of trouble. There certainly seemed to be a lot of Alliance around, their purple armour shining in the sunlight. As they reached Badger’s den, and after the eleventh pair of armed soldiers they’d passed, Jayne leaned in.

“You think there’s something going here we don’t know about?” he whispered.

“Hank checked the posted alerts,” Zoe replied quietly. “Nothing on ‘em.”

“It’s the rumours,” Mal said unexpectedly, ducking in between a stack of containers. “Another war brewing. They’re just keeping an eye on things, make sure it don’t happen here.”

“Do you think it’s likely to, sir?”

“Wouldn’t like to say.”

“Only you and Burt were talking close before Road Runner disengaged.”

Mal didn’t respond, just turned into Badger’s office and strode to the desk, lifting the little man out of his chair and pinning him to the wall. “Afternoon,” he said, almost cheerily.

Three men erupted from the other room, but Jayne stonewalled one, kicked another in the crotch and held his gun on the third. Zoe already had the man who was supposed to be on guard at the front down on the ground, the heel of her boot in his throat, her Mare’s Leg cocked and ready in his face.

Badger tried to swallow but found he couldn’t do it for Mal’s hand wrapped around his neck, his pistol thrust under his chin. He squawked a little.

Mal released the pressure somewhat, allowing the weasel at least to breathe. “You and me are gonna have a talk, Badger.”

“Ya think?” The little man sneered, his voice strained. “This ain't the first time you’ve blown in and laid ‘ands on me in my own gaffe, and I don’t like it.”

“Sorry about that.”

“You’d be sorrier if those bu zhong yong bits of shit’d do their jobs proper.” He glared at the remnants of his security.

“Now, now, that ain't the way to be talking about the people as work for you,” Mal