AN-before you ask, no, there is no beta reader, as I'm working out of a public library. Oh, and please comment, a'ight?

***

The operative looked coldly down at Mal, his pistol pointing at his forehead. Billy's blood was still on Mals cheek, a handprint like the one Book had given him as he lay dying on Haven.

Mal looked at the boys body, a hole in his chest, blood still seeping out of the boy. Near him, Jayne and Zoe sat in the mule, which lay against a tree on the heavily wooded path. River lay groaning a few feet from him.

Mal was on his knees, facing this new operative. He was white skinned, and no glasses or sword. But he was still as cold, mercilous, and as much a murderer as the other man.

"He was just a kid," said Mal.

"No," said the new operative. "He was an obstacle in my way."

Mal closed his eyes, and waited for death to come in and take him.

"Sweet dreams of oblivion, Malcolm Reynalds."

***

Mal looked warily at the ratty faced man. "So, wait, let me get this straight. You want us to go to the ass end of the 'verse, to look into a guy who jus' might have an offer for you?"

Mark Chang shook his head, looking all kinds of nervous. "No, no, Mal, you miss the point. I want you to look around, get a few contacts, search this guy out, look into whoever knows about him, see if I can trust him."

"So you say. Whats this place called again?"

"Its a new settlement, on a moon called Ptah."

Mal would have never trusted folk like Chang before Miranda. A new guy with more money than was good for him, he was looking to get a cut of others profits a mite quickly, which usually ended in someone getting a bad case of the deads, usually the guys like Mal an'co. 'Course, before Miranda, he had a rep that weren't the victim of Alliance mud-slinging. Now, he was lucky to get any work at all, as most of his old contacts were either dead or in hiding, which brought no end to trouble down on their preety lil' heads. He was of a mind to argue, but the l