"Unknot your britches," Mal was still holding his gun, and kept it held loosely in his right hand after the colorful man's frankly disgusting display of greed. "Looks to me like she's carrying, and she chose to be here. Makes me sick, thinkin' of my daughter, but I wouldn't stop [i]her[/i] from doing what she liked either." He looked over his shoulder at where the man was looking out the window, "And quit talking shit about Smit. He never bit anybody I didn't tell him to."

"I reckon it's high time we got civilized, at least. Name's Malachi. Tracker and Bounty Hunter, from Pandora. Don' worry," he added, smiling first kindly at Baltimore, then coldly at Hector, "I don't mean to turn either of you in."