After three worlds, two moons, and a couple of rundown space stations he’d finally found the man he was looking for in a seedy bar on some no name rock on the outer rim. The bar was past rundown. Looked like it hadn’t been cleaned since this poor excuse of a rock had been terra formed. It wouldn’t have even been here if it wasn’t for the docks. This place wasn’t more than a stopping point. Somewhere to refuel and buy supplies. Not the kind of place a person tried to settle down in. But this was just the kind of place to find a man like him. Out here on the edge of the ‘Verse, far from any Alliance patrol. At least that was the case a month ago. Now it didn’t really matter. These days, the Alliance didn’t make it far past the core worlds. No sense in trying to control the whole ‘Verse when you can’t even keep your own home in check.

He saw him sitting alone at the end of the bar. Walking up he signaled the bartender for a drink and took the stool next to the man. He looked up and watched as images of riots flashed across the vidscreen above the bar. “Look at them. Oh, how the mighty have fallen. But do they really think this will change anything. Riots. Calls for emergency elections. Leave it to the core worlds to try and fix bureaucratic go-se with more bureaucratic go-se.” He paused and looked to see if the man was even paying attention. He could tell the man had no interest in what he was saying. He had to be upfront. “You changed everything. You know that, right? One transmission and the entire Alliance is turned upside down. Some call you a hero. Others, a terrorist. So tell me, Captain Reynolds, how do you see yourself these days?”

“You seem to have me at a disadvantage,” Malcolm Reynolds raised his drink and finished the glass and while motioning the bartender for another, he turned toward the man and said, “which leads me to believe you have a reason for being here at this bar, sitting in that seat. So tell me, why shouldn’t I get up and walk away right now?”

“The