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From the Back of a Postcard;
Dancing;
Bound for Glory;
Resistance is Futile;
The Scarren commander leered in triumph at his second. "Scorpius always was squeamish," he said, caressing the jar of organic matter he held. "A weakness. Why implant a neural chip when all needed was the brain itself?"
"And the Sebacean female?"
The commander glanced at the woman, gibbering as the Living Death overtook her. "She is of no use to us now." He shifted his gaze to the small, blue world visible on the dreadnought's screens. "As for the planet: bait for Crichton. Primitive, with no spaceflight, inhabited by a weakling species. It is valueless."
"Dispose of them both”
Dear John
Another sell out tour! It was standing room only at LoMo. "Satisfaction" was a big hit. Of course all this fame and fortune means I have less time to devote to my Theory of Everything, but I'll make time for it.
I am having so much fun with this body!
Chiana, Jool and the rest of the girls send love and kisses,
Harvey
"Two by two, hands of blue. And you're all broken too," River chanted. "Made you, took you, put you in his head. Then left you all alone in the 'verse."
"Would you care for this dance?" Harvey asked. A thousand-string orchestra started playing as Harvey, dapper in white tie and tails, lead her onto a monochromatic dance floor.
"Dancing cheek to cheek ... " River giggled, and then a step and a glide and they were dancing, Fred and Ginger, centre of the floor.
- Jayne watched River dancing with nobody in the dusty marketplace and shook his head. "Gorram crazy!" he said.
He was the best and the brightest. It never occurred to him that he might fail, or even perform less than brilliantly. His confidence, born of natural talent, was nurtured by long arns of practice. His rating was 991, and he was the most daring pilot in the fleet.
One day his prowess would lead to glory in battle, and glory in battle would open a path to the highest command. Meanwhile he seized every opportunity, every assignment, hoping to impress his superior officers.
Officer Kobrin knew he had a glorious future, and he was eager to make it happen.
What the yotz was he doing here?
Hiding in a sewer on a minor planet at the edges of the Empire, Rygel considered. Resistance his eema! Rygel's stomachs churned as he listened to distant sounds of a massacre. The poor bantatic bastards wouldn't last long enough to resist a skoggin, let alone Bishan the Butcher.
Enough! As Dominar he had ordered troops into battle, yet he was not hardened enough to allow this futile bloodshed to continue. Let Bishan hold his throne a while longer. One day Rygel would return and retake it. Meanwhile he was going home to Moya.