Of course, her shuttle didn’t have the sensor array the much larger Serenity had. Inara knew that, and was accustomed to it, but she still found herself shocked when the Alliance cruiser thundered into view, breaking to a halt from its incredible cruising speeds.

They had been holding at Vaughan’s ring, in high orbit of its outermost moon, for almost two hours. River had been quiet, fortunately, content to play with Inara’s clothes. Inara let her—she seemed careful enough with them, even refolding those she discarded. Some of the effects had been comical, but some of Inara’s outfits had looked surprisingly good on the girl. Right now, she was putting on a dress that clung to her form, covering her from the floor up to a hood over her head and a veil hiding the bottom half of her face. Inara loved that dress—it showed everything, but revealed nothing. It fit her better than it did River, but nonetheless, the girl looked good. She had a dancer’s grace, and could, for the most part, carry off a companion’s studied lofty attitude.

Inara just hoped that she could pull it off herself just then. Despite her bravado to Simon and the others—and her genuine confidence that everything would go fine—the two of them would still be traveling on an Alliance military vessel for most of a week, and the price on River’s head was still staggering. They’d stay on the shuttle for most of that time, of course, but Inara would still be expected to make an appearance at least once or twice. Hopefully, River could—and would—stay hidden and undetected on the shuttle.

That plan, like all the best-laid ones, did not survive its implementation for as much as two minutes.

“Unidentified shuttlecraft,” the cruiser announced its demands, “this is the Alliance cruiser Qinhai. Identify yourself and transmit your registration codes immediately.” The officer who was addressing her appeared on her commscreen. He looked grim and slightly offended, like Alliance officers out among the Outer Planets usually did.

“I.A.V. Qinhai, this is Inara Serra.