Kylee’s Lament

Chapter Twenty-Three

“. . . so that’s the plan,” Jayne said as he refilled his ammunition stores from his stash aboard Inara’s shuttle.

Inara looked skeptical. River looked completely disinterested, gazing instead out the viewport into the Black, and slowly twisting the copilot’s chair back and forth in an arc of precisely (should anyone have cared to measure) eighty-eight degrees and humming a nursery rhyme.

“A frontal assault? That’s a plan?” the Companion asked, alarmed. “That seems a bit mad even for Mal and Zoe.”

“Ain’t their plan. My plan. My risk. They just gotta get their attention. I’m the one poppin’ in through the chimney. I’m gonna be a one-man flanking maneuver.” He seemed pretty pleased with the prospect.

“Are you going to be able to handle it, Jayne? I mean, not that I doubt your virility, or your lack of good judgment, but one man up against – what, a dozen?”

“Probably be less by the time I get there,” he said. “Zoe’s always cheatin’ me outa my fun. But figger at least nine or ten. I’ve come through worser odds – and that was when they was expectin’ it. Ain’t gonna give ‘em th’ chance, this time.”

“And what are we supposed to do while you are out getting shot at?”

Jayne considered. “Well, if you wanna be safe, close the hatch behind me. If you wanna be helpful, keep it open and shoot anyone who comes in who ain’t me.”

“Is that distinction necessary?” she asked wryly. The humor was needed to cover her anxiety. It was also completely lost on Jayne.

“Yeah, I’ll be the one in the fancy-pants suit lookin’ like an undertaker. Anyone else, shoot them.”

“How do you know I have a weapon?”

Jayne rolled his eyes behind his sunglasses. “Don’t take this the wrong way, ‘Nara, ‘cause I like you an’ all. But I ain’t met a workin’ girl yet who wasn’t packin’ some kind o’ nastiness in her handbag. I really gotta give you a gun?”

Inara produced a very lady-like pistol, in brilliant platinum plate, from the folds of her dress. It irritated h