A man with a crutch limped out of one of the cells and barked orders to the three men gathered in the room across the way, who rose swiftly from their poker game, grabbed some very intimidating weaponry (talk about overcompensation!) and fanned out to cover the entrances.

That was the voice, the voice from the cellar. But now Wash was surprised to see that the villain of the piece was just an ordinary man, a guy you'd pass on the street. Anybody, really, and nobody.

Callum turned back to someone in the cell. It seemed to Wash there was a touch of affection in his voice as he said, "Don't worry. I'll be back in time to say goodbye. But we must go greet Sergeant Reynolds. He's early, but no matter."

Wash figured he had maybe 10 minutes until Callum and the rest caught on to the ruse and high-tailed it back there. Probably less. He bounded towards the open cell door, grinning. Zoe was gonna be so surprised! Not Captain Speaks-with-Fist. Not Hillbilly Cobb, even. But him, Hoban Washburne, the most annoying yet supremely talented pilot in the 'verse, to the rescue! Perhaps she'd look a bit more kindly on him after this, not be quite so stand-offish, and they could...

He stopped. He gasped. He froze, mind reeling at the horror of it.

Burn the world into oblivion!

Indignation, rage, embarrassment, and just a smidgen of curiosity, all warred inside him as he stood there for the briefest second. Rage – mostly at his own delusions of heroic glory – won. And then he was moving forward, trying really hard not to look at certain things. Because Curiosity, which h