First Version of "Out of Sight" chapter One
Firefly first version
Jayne, Mal, River
Jayne Cobb was not having a good day.
Sure he hadn’t eaten since his too-small breakfast and then had left Vera on the ship. Sure he’d said something less than-tactful to Kaylee again that morning and had gotten a gorram lecture from just about everyone on the ship. And sure, the buyers had decided to double-cross them and weren’t going to pay them for the goods, keen instead on selling him and Mal to work as hands on one of the moon’s big factory farms. That was just to be expected, really, and for Serenity’s crew a mess like that was just another average, ordinary day.
Really, it was the gun barrel being jabbed into his back that made things less than spectacular.
The whole thing was supposed to have been easy - simple drop-off, get the money, go back to the ship. That was the plan, anyway, but as was usually the case with Mal’s plans, things had a way of backfiring. Jayne had been all for just shooting them, but no, the captain had insisted they let things play out, was sure that all the threats were nothing but empty. Just another testament to Mal’s impeccable judgment, because as soon as they’d gotten the crates of whatever cargo safely over to their “side” the group of shady-looking men pulled guns out of practically nowhere and procured themselves two very worthy prisoners.
It was warm and a little humid, and Jayne’s hand was itching for the knife tucked in his boot. The fat man with the gun behind him had taken the knife out of the back of his pants along with the gun he had had at his hip. The man smelled worse than the hold did after they’d transported those cows, and Jayne did not want his weapons - that he held in higher regard than most human beings - being handled by some overweight hun dan with a body odor problem.
They wouldn’t be stuck much longer, though. Mal had a way of weaseling out of trouble that nearly rivaled his knack for getting into it. But how the man had managed to survive as long as he had relatively unscathed, Jayne had no idea.
“This is all your fault, captain.”
“Now I’ve been known to cause trouble in my time, but I don’t see how you can go puttin’ this all on my shoulders.”
“Oh I sure can put this on you - and I’m gonna, too.”
Mal shot him that self-righteous, don’t-blame-me look he had, then shook his head and looked forward again. Counter-productive to argue when they had bigger problems to concentrate on.
The little moon they were on was small but mostly agricultural. The terraforming had taken remarkably well and most of the settlers on the moon - besides the ones living in the towns - were farmers. It led to a bit of nice scenery for a change, and to all intents and purposes - at least to their captors’ eyes - all Mal was doing was taking it in.
Jayne knew better.
That was just another component of Mal’s brilliant plan. Should they get into any trouble - which they without doubt had - River would be waiting for the signal to come out and save them. And though she was still crazy, Jayne was not above doing what he had to to keep Jayne breathing, and that included accepting help from little, psychic crazy girls.
The sun was high, and the leader of the gang would return soon. If they were going to get away, he figured it would be wise to do it soon.
Mal let out a huff of breath. “Hot day,” he said conversationally.
Jayne’s ears perked up, and surreptitiously he looked around for any signs of movement. There was a patch of shrubbery not too far off, and if his eyes weren’t playing tricks, that spot of dark underneath all the leafy bits was actually the toe of a boot. He nodded and said, “Yeah, Mal, it surely is.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Serenity’s captain glanced at his hired gun. “Feelin’ a little parched. I sure could go for some rainfall myself.”
Yes, that was it. Jayne inhaled and said loudly, “Hell, I could go for a whole river.”
That was the signal.
Two gunshots rang out almost simultaneously, killing one of the riders as well as the man guarding Mal. The horse reared and Jayne’s guard, startled, turned to look. A big mistake, and just the opportunity he needed. He took a quick step to the left and grabbed the man’s wrist. With a feral howl, he twisted hard and spun around to face him. The gun fell and he felt a satisfying snap as the man’s wrist broke. Jayne punched him hard in the gut and the big man grunted and fell.
Fighting had broken out around him, though with the three of them against six - or four, since crazy girl’d already taken two out - chances were it wouldn’t last long. A few shots were coming his way; he kicked the barely conscious man on the ground over and grabbed his gun. “Be takin’ that,” he muttered. The man’s own gun wasn’t hardly worth using, much less taking, and he almost felt sorry for it, being stuck with such a sorry excuse for a fighter.
One of the men on horseback was coming towards him. He saw a glint as the man raised his arm, and with a curse he slammed his body to the ground, just missing the knife that whizzed by. The next second the man was down, a bullet through his temple. The crazy girl ran and grabbed the horse’s reigns, calming the thick beast down with a few pets and whispered words. Jayne glared. He hadn’t even gotten to shoot anybody yet.
“Ahh!” That was Mal, and from the way he clutched at his leg the probability was high he’d been shot. Jayne shot up off the ground and fired a few rounds into a man talking into a comm-unit. He fell - and with a pleased air Jayne surveyed the damage. No one left, it looked like, and except for Mal’s leg they hadn’t sustained any injuries.
But then Jayne felt sweaty, fat-fingered hands clutching at his face. The edge of a cold, hard container pressed into his cheek for a half-second before something burning hot was sprayed right into his eyes. He roared, ripping out of the other man’s grip, shooting erratically towards what he hoped was the man who’d just attacked him.
“What the hell’d you do to me?” he yelled. “I can’t ruttin’ see!”
He couldn’t rutting see. And his eyes were everything - how was he supposed to track? How was he supposed to aim?
With another growl he started moving, stomping around in no clear pattern. He tripped over a thick, yielding mass - probably a body. Somebody was trying to grab him as he stumbled. He jerked away, firing off another shot.
“Stop!” The person was yelling, but he could hardly hear. His eyes were burning; he could tell they’d started to water from the tears leaking down his cheeks, but he couldn’t feel it. All he was aware of was the blindingly bad pain.
A horse was beside him suddenly, he could smell it. “Climb,” a small, earnest voice told him. “Must mount so we can - “
“Leave me ‘lone!” he roared, batting the person away. It was a small, compact body; it didn’t register in his mind just who his sudden shadow was likely to be.
Something hard came down on the back of his skull. His eyes felt like they were on fire, but suddenly he could hardly breathe. It was a struggle to stay conscious. Tiny hands found his arm, pulling him up. Someone wanted badly for him to get on that gorram horse. He couldn’t think. His boot was in the stirrup - he pulled himself up into the saddle, mind blinking in and out.
A moment later he closed sightless eyes and the world turned black as he faded past consciousness.
~~~
Jayne, Mal, River
Jayne Cobb was not having a good day.
Sure he hadn’t eaten since his too-small breakfast and then had left Vera on the ship. Sure he’d said something less than-tactful to Kaylee again that morning and had gotten a gorram lecture from just about everyone on the ship. And sure, the buyers had decided to double-cross them and weren’t going to pay them for the goods, keen instead on selling him and Mal to work as hands on one of the moon’s big factory farms. That was just to be expected, really, and for Serenity’s crew a mess like that was just another average, ordinary day.
Really, it was the gun barrel being jabbed into his back that made things less than spectacular.
The whole thing was supposed to have been easy - simple drop-off, get the money, go back to the ship. That was the plan, anyway, but as was usually the case with Mal’s plans, things had a way of backfiring. Jayne had been all for just shooting them, but no, the captain had insisted they let things play out, was sure that all the threats were nothing but empty. Just another testament to Mal’s impeccable judgment, because as soon as they’d gotten the crates of whatever cargo safely over to their “side” the group of shady-looking men pulled guns out of practically nowhere and procured themselves two very worthy prisoners.
It was warm and a little humid, and Jayne’s hand was itching for the knife tucked in his boot. The fat man with the gun behind him had taken the knife out of the back of his pants along with the gun he had had at his hip. The man smelled worse than the hold did after they’d transported those cows, and Jayne did not want his weapons - that he held in higher regard than most human beings - being handled by some overweight hun dan with a body odor problem.
They wouldn’t be stuck much longer, though. Mal had a way of weaseling out of trouble that nearly rivaled his knack for getting into it. But how the man had managed to survive as long as he had relatively unscathed, Jayne had no idea.
“This is all your fault, captain.”
“Now I’ve been known to cause trouble in my time, but I don’t see how you can go puttin’ this all on my shoulders.”
“Oh I sure can put this on you - and I’m gonna, too.”
Mal shot him that self-righteous, don’t-blame-me look he had, then shook his head and looked forward again. Counter-productive to argue when they had bigger problems to concentrate on.
The little moon they were on was small but mostly agricultural. The terraforming had taken remarkably well and most of the settlers on the moon - besides the ones living in the towns - were farmers. It led to a bit of nice scenery for a change, and to all intents and purposes - at least to their captors’ eyes - all Mal was doing was taking it in.
Jayne knew better.
That was just another component of Mal’s brilliant plan. Should they get into any trouble - which they without doubt had - River would be waiting for the signal to come out and save them. And though she was still crazy, Jayne was not above doing what he had to to keep Jayne breathing, and that included accepting help from little, psychic crazy girls.
The sun was high, and the leader of the gang would return soon. If they were going to get away, he figured it would be wise to do it soon.
Mal let out a huff of breath. “Hot day,” he said conversationally.
Jayne’s ears perked up, and surreptitiously he looked around for any signs of movement. There was a patch of shrubbery not too far off, and if his eyes weren’t playing tricks, that spot of dark underneath all the leafy bits was actually the toe of a boot. He nodded and said, “Yeah, Mal, it surely is.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Serenity’s captain glanced at his hired gun. “Feelin’ a little parched. I sure could go for some rainfall myself.”
Yes, that was it. Jayne inhaled and said loudly, “Hell, I could go for a whole river.”
That was the signal.
Two gunshots rang out almost simultaneously, killing one of the riders as well as the man guarding Mal. The horse reared and Jayne’s guard, startled, turned to look. A big mistake, and just the opportunity he needed. He took a quick step to the left and grabbed the man’s wrist. With a feral howl, he twisted hard and spun around to face him. The gun fell and he felt a satisfying snap as the man’s wrist broke. Jayne punched him hard in the gut and the big man grunted and fell.
Fighting had broken out around him, though with the three of them against six - or four, since crazy girl’d already taken two out - chances were it wouldn’t last long. A few shots were coming his way; he kicked the barely conscious man on the ground over and grabbed his gun. “Be takin’ that,” he muttered. The man’s own gun wasn’t hardly worth using, much less taking, and he almost felt sorry for it, being stuck with such a sorry excuse for a fighter.
One of the men on horseback was coming towards him. He saw a glint as the man raised his arm, and with a curse he slammed his body to the ground, just missing the knife that whizzed by. The next second the man was down, a bullet through his temple. The crazy girl ran and grabbed the horse’s reigns, calming the thick beast down with a few pets and whispered words. Jayne glared. He hadn’t even gotten to shoot anybody yet.
“Ahh!” That was Mal, and from the way he clutched at his leg the probability was high he’d been shot. Jayne shot up off the ground and fired a few rounds into a man talking into a comm-unit. He fell - and with a pleased air Jayne surveyed the damage. No one left, it looked like, and except for Mal’s leg they hadn’t sustained any injuries.
But then Jayne felt sweaty, fat-fingered hands clutching at his face. The edge of a cold, hard container pressed into his cheek for a half-second before something burning hot was sprayed right into his eyes. He roared, ripping out of the other man’s grip, shooting erratically towards what he hoped was the man who’d just attacked him.
“What the hell’d you do to me?” he yelled. “I can’t ruttin’ see!”
He couldn’t rutting see. And his eyes were everything - how was he supposed to track? How was he supposed to aim?
With another growl he started moving, stomping around in no clear pattern. He tripped over a thick, yielding mass - probably a body. Somebody was trying to grab him as he stumbled. He jerked away, firing off another shot.
“Stop!” The person was yelling, but he could hardly hear. His eyes were burning; he could tell they’d started to water from the tears leaking down his cheeks, but he couldn’t feel it. All he was aware of was the blindingly bad pain.
A horse was beside him suddenly, he could smell it. “Climb,” a small, earnest voice told him. “Must mount so we can - “
“Leave me ‘lone!” he roared, batting the person away. It was a small, compact body; it didn’t register in his mind just who his sudden shadow was likely to be.
Something hard came down on the back of his skull. His eyes felt like they were on fire, but suddenly he could hardly breathe. It was a struggle to stay conscious. Tiny hands found his arm, pulling him up. Someone wanted badly for him to get on that gorram horse. He couldn’t think. His boot was in the stirrup - he pulled himself up into the saddle, mind blinking in and out.
A moment later he closed sightless eyes and the world turned black as he faded past consciousness.
~~~