Simon’s heart raced with urgency as he watched Mal try to attend to Inara. The captain pressed a hand over the wound and she uttered a heart-rending cry. She needed his attention now. He made a slow move towards her.

“Hold it! I said don’t move,” a soldier thrust his rifle centimeters from Simon’s face. He slowly looked up, the levity of the situation written on his face.

“I’m a doctor. Please let me see to her.”

“Hands up!” the soldier commanded. Simon gave in, knowing he could do know good if he was dead. He slowly raised his hands, an apologetic look for Mal. The captain swung his head to the squadron leader approaching him, murder in every inch of his being. The squad leader took in the scene with precise military efficiency. “Command, we have the targets subdued. Send a med team down here. We got wounded on both sides,” he radioed the request.

“Cap’n?” the radio in Mal’s pocket crackled to life with Kaylee’s voice. “Cap’n, can you hear me?”

“Who’s that?” the squad leader demanded, rifle trained on Mal. Mal fixed his expression in silence. “Search the ship,” he motioned to three of this team. “Get up,” he hauled Mal to his feet. “All of you get up!” Slowly, Simon, Jayne and Zoe rose as well. “Who else is on the ship?” he asked. Mal’s hands twitched, itching to wrap around the soldier’s neck. Through supreme effort of will, he held them in check. He glanced down at Inara who was struggling to breathe, the stain spreading through her dress visible as an ugly, dark splotch in the crimson lighting. “Who else is on your ship?” the squad leader demanded again. Mal raised his chin, looking down on the soldier before staring obstinately off into space. The standoff dragged on for a good half minute.

“Ow, hey! Let me go!” Kaylee’s protests carried from outside the bay.

“Sir, we found her in the engine room,” one of the soldiers escorting Kaylee called, thrusting her through the door. Kaylee stumbled forward and stopped when she saw Inara on the floor.

“Inara!” she cried,