Truthsome, Part II: Blood

Shadows (follow link)

The sheriff stood still, a peculiar look on his face, as the Alliance lieutenant strode up to his side. Mal couldn't quite get a fix on how surprised--or not--the sheriff was at the Fed's presence. Two brawny purple clad drones replaced the local fellows who'd been flanking Mal. They seemed annoyed by the intrusion, muttering among themselves as they lowered their weapons and backed away. Seizing hold of Mal's arms, those fine Alliance lads roughly twisted them behind his back. Mal winced as the hwoon dahn Fed tightened the cuffs down on his wrists a notch further than necessary.

Shifting his attention to the officer, Mal didn't bother to hide his contempt as he glared at him. The feeling was clearly mutual as the Fed stepped forward to stand face to face with Mal. The officer looked him up and down, taking in the red shirt, tan trousers with the stripe down the side, and the brown coat. Mal knew exactly what the Fed was seeing as he looked at him; it was an Independent’s uniform, unabashed and unrepentant, lacking only the insignia. And Mal saw a Fed lieutenant of an age to have been one of the terrified young pups being slaughtered by the thousands in the war. This one survived the fighting but not the military order that wouldn’t let him rise through the ranks with no war to kill off the higher-ups. Now he was stuck on a backwater moon snaring low level smugglers. That was a recipe for a bitter and dangerous foe. When the Fed's eyes came back up to meet Mal's, they held an unblinking stare for a long moment. Without words, a perfect understanding passed between the two men--pure, undiluted hatred.

"Tah ma de Independent," the lieutenant growled, pulling back his fist. Mal saw the blow coming and tried to go with it but the guards held him solidly until the punch landed, then let him go. Mal crashed to the floor, unable to catch himself with his