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Can't Take the Sky From Me (SevenxSorrow)

"Aye, ye did. I don't think the lass was meaning real dogs and broken birds. Lass seems te be the type te speak in metaphors." she mused, recalling River's speech of Rimaru the Spider and Sern the Fly, feeling sick a moment. Swallowing, she rubbed at her wrists, the skin bruised and nearly cut from the cuffs, the blood pounding around a bruised eye. Shaking her head she watched the Captain a moment, the man didn't seem to be stupid, there was something to his manner that lead her to see that he was more intelligent then he let on. Hawk stood as well, giving a nod to Simon "Thanks again Doc. And Badger, that cowardly piece av go-se? Sern and I did a job for him years away, bastard cheated us on our pay." she muttered shaking her head as she followed Mal out.
 
"He'll do that," Mal said cheerfully; he had long ago learned how to work with Badger. Naturally, the guy still gave him trouble but ultimately the way to deal with the wannabe gangster was to appeal to his ego, and if that failed, it was to make Badger remember that he was smaller than Mal, and that the Browncoat had a harder punch and plenty of reason to use it.

"'Sides, he took a shining to one of ours recently," he added brightly.

Simon scoffed; River had impressed Badger with her miniature performance, but Badger was a corrupt, morally bankrupt criminal and River was a seventeen year old girl - an unpredictable seventeen year old girl, Simon didn't like the combination and he didn't like any slimy businessman becoming too fond of his little sister. He had almost died getting her this far, he would be more than willing to spend his last few breaths destroying Badger if that was what it took to keep her safe.

And, up at the deck, Badger was on screen, bedecked in his usual bowler had and uneven ascot, and he gave one of his yellowed smiles,

"Zoe, still with this dirty old man?" Badger asked as he gestured to Mal, and Zoe merely cocked an eyebrow.

"Actually, she's with this dirty old man," Wash corrected, pointing enthusiastically to himself, and then falling silent as he became vaguely disturbed with himself for even talking to Badger. Badger shook it off, though, and turned his eyes to Mal.

"Hey there Badger." Mal said chipperly, "You're not gonna try'n offer me a job then go back on paying me, are you? 'Cause I just got finished telling a friend about how you an' I are getting along swell now and all and I'd hate to have just lied, you know? Lying. Hate that."

Badger stared,

"Look, you want a job or not?"

"You gonna pay me?"

The response was immediate; so immediate, and without complication that it made Mal suspicious - Badger had been almost too eager:

"Yes. I'll pay you."

Mal's expression didn't change from his one of dim bemusement,

"Oh, good. So you're gonna pay her, too, right?" Mal asked, pointing to Hawk now, "'Cause, you know, you kind of forgot to pay her before. You got a good mind for faces, better'n I have, and it turns out she and her partner did a job for you and you neglected to keep up your end of the bargain."
 
Hawk nodded, lips twitching wrly as she walked alongside that man "So I learned." she replied, with a small shake of her head. It seemed that the jilt of pay still rankled her somewhat. She and Sern had dealt with Badger only once, after a rough transport job that resulted in a broken wrist for the woman and both of them having to make a hasty retreat from the warehouse where they picked up the goods. Once at Badger's he had spoken in an irritatingly condescending way, stating that they had nearly been tagged by an Alliance craft and further business with them was too risky. Both Browncoats were unhappy of course, and were shown out by the smuggler's goons and left with the goods to try and sell off to someone else. Sern had walked with her back to their ship, muttering about 'cowardly piles of go-se that went back on their word', both later drowning their sorrows at a bar and moving on to find more work.

She shook off the memory, listening to Mal and Simon, from Mal's seemingly innocent statement and Simon's reaction the woman had the idea that he was speaking of River. Hawk really couldn't blame the reaction of the Doctor, if she had a teenage sibling she wouldn't want someone like Badger 'admiring' them. Entering the cockpit once more, she felt her eyes narrow in distaste, giving a tiny brittle smile to the man as Mal stopped speaking "Lying is a horrid thing after all. Now, I know it was a long time ago, but my partner and I did ye're job, and had all the goods, nice and ship-shape for ye. Ye backed on the pay, because of the faint risk that the Alliance saw us, faintly understandable. But we needed that money, and I'm sure ye recall a bit better now, if not, I can be more helpful." she commented, tone mild, eyes flinty.
 
Badger stared at them through the screen, his mouth twisted into an expression that made him look like he was going to be sick, but the way his eyes were flicking all over the place made Mal more certain that something was off - but then, it always was with Badger.

"What say we work that out once you get the job done, love?" Badger said, "We'll wheel-deal what's what when you get back to Persephone."

Mal shrugged his lips,

"Short and sweet, what's wrong, don't wanna talk with us today, Badger? You're gonna make me self-conscious." Mal said in as pitiful a tone as he could muster, "But fair enough, we'll work things out then, and you make sure to keep in mind my friend here, because if you forget her, I can't be held responsible for what happens on the job -"

There was a pause, then Mal shifted uncomfortably,

"What - is - the job?" he asked then, awkwardly, and Badger rolled his eyes.

It didn't take a lot of explaining; there was an abandoned ship adrift about two hours from where they were, right on course, and a couple of cargo boxes on board. All they had to do was take the cargo and get it back to Persephone, no questions asked, no looking at what was inside. Simple. Easy. Suspicious.

Mal agreed to it with a dim smile, the screen went off, and he exchanged a look with Zoe that made Wash put his face in his hands.

"I know that look," Wash moaned despondantly.
 
He seemed more twitchy from the last time she had seen him, and she wondered why that was, where his oily confidence had gone. That didn't seem to matter much and the woman felt her mouth twist faintly in distaste "It's Hawk." she commented, tone flat and unimpressed by the endearment. "He usually was a fan av hearing himself talk." Hawk mused, voice soft, expression becoming innocent. Hawk listened to the job, all of her senses going off like klaxon alarms. This sounded too damned suspicious and as the look crossed Mal's face she quirked a brow "I take it that we're heading out to the job." she added, keeping to that statement only. The impulse to grab Serenity's controls and wrench them to Greenleaf was maddening and she held onto the back of the co-pilot's chair, knuckles white. She knew how important jobs were and held her tongue as best she could. "About the pay, Badger's the type to slip off about that thing to easily. It was about a year ago...not much av a deal now. Ye're doing enough already." she pointed out, voice between firm and grateful.
 
As though he'd read her mind, Mal gave Hawk a sideways look,

"We won't be abandoning your partner," Mal said, almost sternly, "But we can't go forward to Greenleaf 'til Universe gets back to us with more information. If we're gonna do something stupid, may as well do it as smart as we can."

Simon, who had trailed behind, squinted his eyes at Mal for a moment, his pretty face twisting into a brief expression of confusion,

"That -" Simon said, hesitating, one finger in the air, and then frowning, "-that actually made sense to me. I'm a little concerned."

Mal shrugged then,

"We'll work things out with Badger," he said, "No reason he shouldn't hold up his end now is there? 'Sides, man seemed a mite desperate, and there's nothing we like more than a desperate employer, isn't that right, Zoe?"

"Yes sir." Zoe agreed, and a smirk pulled at her mouth that made Mal smile back, like they were sharing some horrible little joke.

"Right, so we carry on, we grab the cargo, by then Universe should've contacted us, and we'll go get your buddy. Shiny." Mal said brightly.

"Yeah, real easy." Simon said drily.

"Shiny." Wash agreed.
 
Hawk drew out a faint sigh and nodded, looking at him headlong "Wasnae thinking that...it's just, each moment that's going past without being something done is a bit maddening. And ye've a point, being as smart as ye're able, in jobs like these." she acknowledged. The tiny smile crept back to her face at Simon's frown "Too much time among Browncoats, Core-lad." she stated, wanting to grin, but minding her stitches.

She watched the grin exchanged between Mal and Zoe and her liking of the two grew more solid, she respected and even enjoyed the bond they displayed. It was of course similar to her and Sern, but besides that it was good to see Browncoats that still held together after the War. "Shiny." Hawk echoed, voice a bit dull, it was a grand plan, but seemed to damned tricky. She shook that off and relaxed, this at least meant an adventure and a challenge, two things she loved. Beyond that, something about the way Mal spoke shook off the pessimism she felt, he was a hopeful man it seemed, something that she needed right about now.
 
The co-ordinates Badger supplied them with ended up veering the Serenity only marginally off her original course, a brief east-ward detour from where they had initially been heading, and from the point they had recieved the message from Badger, the ensuing journey was within two hours time,

"You know," Wash said, breaking the silence within the pilot station, "It's a little like winning the lottery when you end up this close to a job - what with the, you know, vastness of space and all that."

He chewed on his fingernail for a moment, and realized that Mal was giving him that blank 'so what' stare, because when it came down to it, Malcolm Reynolds couldn't care less about odds - numbers weren't terrible important to the captain, mostly because they were confusing to him, and he just left them up to people like Kaylee and Simon, the sort who made obscure jokes about physics and calculations. River did that sometimes too, but they were usually strung between facts about death and old literature references - and sometimes episodes where she stabbed Jayne, but those moments were just funny to Mal.

"It's just - isn't it weird that there's a shuttle just sort of, you know, drifting?" Wash asked, "And how did Badger know about it? I mean, who's to say it hasn't already been raided by some other vultures?"

There was a pause, then:

"Not that we're vultures." Wash corrected hastily.

"Can't say how he knows the things he does but when it comes to lost, stolen, pilfered and otherwise ill-gotten goods our Badger's the one who'll know where to find 'em, how to get 'em, and how to make a profit off 'em." Mal said, crossing his arms over his chest, and there was a long silence before Wash finally nodded.

"Right." Wash said, "So, um, that was sort of your way of saying 'shut-up-and-do-piloty-things'."

Mal's tiny smile caused Wash to nod a second time, and he turned back to the pilot station and made airplane noises while tugging pointlessly on controls.

"S'why I hired him." Mal said to Hawk.
 
Hawk stood in the cargo bay, the vague and distant shock that came from the past events was fading, turning to a clearer sense of tight worry and panic. She clenched her fists, and took a breath, shoving that aside and letting her mind calm as she breathed in and out, letting go of that tenseness as best she could. She focused on the job for now, listening to Mal and Wash speak, the pilot had a good point, things that were this convenient tended to also have the nasty side effect of leading to trouble. Even so, Mal seemed to be aware of the fact, and if not, would be able to shift with the punch that came with the bad news. She hoped at least, if there was bad news, it would simply be that their loot was gone and nothing more. Perhaps she was being paranoid, her mind raced to disaster far too easily. Her mouth eased from its thin line and she chuckled faintly "Because av his amazing imitation av a Firefly craft, or his wondrous fashion sense?" she jibed, amused at the man's actions.
 
"Well, I hired him primarily because he had such a pretty moustache," Mal said cheerily.

"Hey." Wash whined distantly.

"Second was the fashion sense, 'cause lord help me I just love me a pilot who wears purple shirts covered in lilies."

"Hey." Wash repeated, in his purple shirt.

"Third came the skills, which I discovered actually existed once I stopped bein' distracted by the first two reasons, you know? He shaved the moustache off on account of his then future-wife thought it made him look like a serial killer." Nathan said, and then spoke louder so Wash could still hear, "Now I can't attest as to whether or not he's made any people-skin-chairs, but I can say he'll do a trick or two when you need him to, just so long as you keep 'im happy with plastic dinosaurs, ain't that right?"

There was a pause, as though Wash was considering this before his voice crackled over the intercom,

"And sugar," he said dreamily, "I like sugar."

Mal stared at the intercom, and as though Wash sensed it, he added,

"Aye aye."

And the radio clicked off, leaving Mal to nod before turning his eyes back to Hawk, and some of the casual humour drifted away from his face; Mal was young, but his eyes weren't,

"You been travellin' with this buddy'a yours since the war, then?" he asked.
 
Hawk couldn't help it, a chuckle emerged as the explanation of Wash's selling points went on. She couldn't really picture a mustache that would inspire thoughts of murder, but it had to be damned creepy, even more unsettling on the cheerful face of the pilot. Feeling the weaved cut drag painfully, she kept herself from smiling, though her eyes glimmered with good humour. "Lilly shirts are in the highest fashion, especially if they're purple." she remarked easily.

The ease drifted away from her, and the tiny lines about her lips and eyes deepened slightly as she looked at Mal, the blue-green irises darkening as she nodded "Sern and I were in the Black Starfires, our own squadron. He was the Captain av our twelve crafts, we were friends from early on in the War. When it ended....we stuck together." she murmured, voice heavy with the memory of the war and of the fact that her oldest friend was missing. Another thought occurred to her and her eyes widened "I should get to a Cortex! Wave my crew and warn them, if that Rimaru bastard's after Browncoats..." she trailed off, imagining all the other people she had flew alongside being trussed up and tortured by that monster, feeling her stomach lurch a bit.
 
Mal watched her, listened to her, but he never allowed his expression to waver to sympathy or pity because browncoats didn't do that sort of thing, it just wasn't done. Instead, he gave a nod of his head as though it was the sort of answer he'd expected; most of their kind tried to stick with one another, because there just wasn't a lot that an Alliance-governed star system had to offer to a group of rebels, so all they had was eachother and their ships and they were usually realistic enough to understand it was a hard time surviving on their own. People gunned for their sort all the time, safety in numbers was just common sense.

It occurred to him that Hawk probably had a valid point; given Rimaru's history with browncoats, it was a good bet that he was hunting for any of them, rather than targeting - there was a good chance that Hawk and Sern had just been in the wrong place at the wrong time. Bad luck. Real bad luck when it came to a chou ba guai gan ni niang like Omi Rimaru.

"We'll get a message out," Mal said, "The good news is that Rimaru doesn't like a big crew taggin' along with him, he just likes t'keep a few around for grunt work, doesn't like havin' too many others - the bad news is that Rimaru even exists."

He had recognized the hope that was in Hawk's voice earlier; he didn't want to be the one to break it to her that Sern wasn't alive - and that, if he was, there wouldn't be much left to talk to. He couldn't bring himself to tell her that, because he understood the need to know, the need to see it through and have your crew's six because that's what they lived to do.
 
The woman was grateful to see his expression stay neutral, any other emotion would have simply angered her. Sympathy and pity were useless and Mal, as any other Browncoat knew that, it was better to keep together when you could, offer each other help and have one's back in a fight, because they had the short end of the stick against the Alliance. It was why they gathered in quiet bars on Unification Day, toasting each other with a quiet drink instead of carousing in the bars to celebrate bull-shit patriotism.

It was also why Hawk was ready to warn the others, because they only had each other, and because of the memories they shared. Her and Sern being caught had simply been coincidence, bad luck, but that didn't mean that it wouldn't happen to another Browncoat. And with Rimaru being the one for them to be picked up by, it made her want to take action and fast.

Of course that was a very stupid idea and the woman nodded "Aye, he works quietly...like a gorram spider. A more unhappy question would be what if there are more like him?" she asked, exploring that idea her own self and not liking the thought of it.

She lapsed into a worried silence, trying to weigh her own faith in Sern's ability to survive against the threat he faced. A tiny, logically cold voice kept trying to pipe up, saying that if she found her friend, he would be in pieces, or if he was lucky he would be a vegetable. Hawk diverted that course of thought, she was the only one that knew what had happened and she owed it to the man to do all she could to bring him home, no matter what. She did not voice these thoughts to the Captain, staring off into the distance instead, whatever words she had in her head would sound so small aloud.
 
Mal grimaced; in his mind's eye, he saw a room full of Omi Rimarus, tall, colourless, stick-thin men in high-collared Alliance uniforms - brittle, hook-nosed men with dark eyes and perpetual grimaces and those long-fingered bony hands that seemed to have too many joints to belong to a human being. He'd seen those hands up close. Didn't like them much.

He suspected the dislike was a mutual sort; like he'd done to nearly everyone else in the 'verse with a little power and a lot of guns, Mal had managed to piss off Rimaru and leave the man with a bitter taste in his mouth and a dark craving - but Mal didn't take all the credit for Rimaru's hatred of browncoats, that had been the work of their entire group, that had been all of them, a combined effort that had driven the Alliance man to the edge of insanity and back again. By the sound of it, Rimaru had gone right over that edge just like they'd all known he would one day, and no one was about to stop him - no one in the Alliance, anyways.

"Ain't no one else quite like Rimaru," Mal said, "He's a special little snowflake, that one. Even the rest of the 'Liance doesn't approve of what he does, but they don't disapprove of it neither - not openly. Sometimes when a man goes out of his mind, people think that steppin' back'll take care of it, that maybe he'll get tired of it or self-destruct."

Fat chance. Rimaru would slice his way to happy.

The radio crackled again and Wash's voice came over the wave:

We're nearing on our target here; another half an hour and we'll be there. You guys best get suited up.

"You're comin'," Mal said simply, jerking his head in the general direction of the cargo hold, then pointing his eyes towards the suits.
 
Hawk set her attention to the Captain, snapping out of her thoughts in an instant. "The Alliance is still too wrapped up in it own bureaucracy to openly disapprove of anything but what would make them look bad. Ye'd think a crazy like Rimaru would be something they'd want to quash. But, as ye said it's a better hope that he'll meet the wrong end of a bullet or will fall into madness again. That's a false hope." she stated, mouth settled into a tight frown. She had her own uneasy images of Rimaru that rested in her mind, the way he had spoken to them with the manner that he held their lives in his hands. Which he did, one at any rate, and his eyes, focused and sharp, piercing right to her core when he looked at her. The man would have been an exemplary interrogator.

A man like that hounding Browncoats was chilling, someone on that edge of crazy, with Alliance training and a taste for cutting a man up, with the added grudge meant more trouble then she really wanted to ponder on. Lips tight she drummed her fingers on her thighs and she nodded quickly. "Alright." she stated with ease, glad to be doing something to keep her mind busy. "So in the ship, find what we can find and look for someone te fence it too. One of those 'easy' jobs that lead a person to getting into too much trouble." she added. "Especially with a Pandora's proverbial box."
 
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