Blue Stripe: The Life and Times of a Firefly Class Mechanic

I first pressed palms with lan jao bin Mal Reynolds on a planet whose name I can't remember, in a town I don't remember, drinking away the last of the coin in my pocket at a dive I can barely remember. I do have some recollections of an appalling whiskey, but it was cheap and eatin' a hole in my belly.

My last gig before meeting the esteemed Cap'n Renyolds engineering hand aboard an Alliance freighter. No story to how I lost that one, no Reavers or anything like that, just me and the Alliance don't mix. They're all about wearing stupid hats and I'm all about not doing exactly whatever it was they wanted me to do.

So there's me, Hickory Burnsides, with zero prospects and hardly two plug nickels to rub together, drowning my sorrows on some planet wedged in the chui kank of the 'verse. In walks my supposifyin' salvation, browncoat war-hero, smuggler, and ship's captain: Malcolm Reynolds.

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