Author's Note - Sorry if any of this sounds a bit stilted. As you may or may not have noticed, I enjoy writing dialogue a whole lot more than action, but sometimes a guy's gotta do what he's gotta do. And with that covering of my posterior region, behold! Also, it is pretty long, too. Just warning.

Book One – Chapter Four

Jayne Cobb never was afraid of guns. In fact, he had somewhat of a platonic love affair with every single one he saw.

Where he grew up, the doctors pretty much just gave them away to infants as soon as they left the hospital. Or that’s what Jayne figured anyway. It was the only way to account for the abundance of firearms that graced the schoolyard. Not that he ever showed up there, but he heard stories.

His mom never let him carry a gun. Not even a pellet rifle. Not even a plastic gun. She said that they led undoubtedly to a life filled with tragedy and mayhem, and also that a man who carried a big gun was simply overcompensating. Jayne never understood what the hell she was talking about when she used big words like that, but she obviously didn’t approve, so he kept his firearm collection a secret from her. It started underneath his bed. As it grew, his hiding places grew to his closet, beneath his floorboards, and the old, hollowed-out service transistor he bought.

In his past, he had to make new hiding places on his own person, as was often the case. He once successfully smuggled three separate pistols in his drawers through an Alliance security checkpoint on Turrents Moon. But he always was careful putting weapons down there, and he always followed the most important step: Put the safety on.

However, in the situation he was presently in, the case was different. Despite his lack of fear when it came to guns, he was a bit uneasy about the shiny silver pistol that was pointed at his crotch. The safety was definitely not on.

“Okay. You’re gonna wanta put that away right ‘bout now.” Jayne spoke softly and slowly, hoping for the first time that Sim