Note: Hey guys, new story for you. Don't worry, Lions and Little Birds is still ongoing, I'm just trying to sort out plot and characters and such. Anywho.

Some info for you about this one. It's pre BDM but Simon and Kaylee, whilst not fully there yet, do have something going.

Anyway, enjoy the story and leave a comment if you feel generous. Really would love to know what you think.

"Quick! Kaylee, Wash! Come on, up you get!"

Panting in fear they sprinted up the ramp, bending over and trembling in fear when they reached the inside of the cargo bay. Mal reached forward and plucked them further into the ship. Shouting at them to get to their respective stations, he watched them for a moment, weaving their way through the small huddle of people just standing in the cargo bay looking confused and afraid. Mal turned his gaze back to the world outside, muttering 'come on' over and over. His words became more desperate as the seconds ticked on, knowing he was cutting it close. His hand rested on the 'shut' button.

A sudden bomb, exploding much too close, made his decision for him and he slammed his hand down. Not staying to watch the doors close, he sprinted to the bridge, yelling at Wash to get them away.

"Where to?"

"Anywhere. Another planet preferably."

Gulping at the panic in the Captain's voice, Wash did as he was bid then jumped as Mal slammed his hand into the lockers. Not daring to look, he kept his focus on the controls in front of him. Hearing the Captain curse furiously, he swallowed heavily and looked over his shoulder. The man was stood, hands clenched, breath escaping through clenched lips, staring hard at the ever-shrinking world as they flew away from it. Looking closely, Wash could still see the bombs being exploded as well as the trails of other fleeing ships.

"Mal..what's happ-"

"Keep flying Wash. Just keep flying."

Wash did just that.

Mal stormed away from the bridge, cursing the God he didn't believe him. Reaching the cargo platform, he looked down with steely eyes as the scraggily group whispering hysterically among themselves. Counting down from ten, he released some of the tension tight in his shoulders and raised his voice, yelling over the audible distress.

"All right, everybody listen up!"

They fell silent and Mal felt the power of thirty pairs of eyes turn on him. He held back to cry of anger as he thought about what he'd left behind for these people.

"I know everythin' is a mite confusin at the moment. However, we are flying to the nearest safe planet to get some help. I need you to stay calm and help my crew by sitting down and trying to be quiet. Dong ma?"

It took a moment, them obviously being a bit wary, but they slowly began to sink to the floor, breaking off into smaller groups and speaking in low tones to one another. A few people howled in distress - this situation obviously hitting them- but they were quickly hushed, nervous glances being shot his way. Sighing thankfully, he moved sluggishly down the stairs, the impact of his decision beginning to weigh on him. He tried to reason it with himself: There wasn't enough time, he had to look after these people, he had to look after the rest of his crew...

They all fell short of alleviating his guilt.

He stepped through into the area outside the infirmary and felt, more than saw, the gazes of his crew. The obvious absence was felt as well.

"Sir?"

It would be Zoe. It had to be Zoe who would start it off. None of them would have dared break the tense silence except his second in command. He closed his eyes for a second, breathing deeply through his nose before looking up at a sea of expecting faces. He moved further into the room and stood facing them, arms crossed protectively over his chest as though he subconsciously expected them to attack him.

"I got Wash flying us to the nearest planet which, by my reckoning, is about two days away. Now, you've no doubt noticed the large number of people in the cargo hold. That means that we're gonna have to go to rations and that means all of us, Jayne."

The man looked offended and he opened his arms challengingly. "Hell Mal, I ain't doin' nothin' wrong. Why you always gotta be picking on me, huh?"

"Captain." He looked back to Zoe and found her standing erect in the infirmary doorway. Her face gave nothing away.

"Captain, what about..." She couldn't say the name and he gave a small thanks that Kaylee wasn't in the room at the moment. This was going to be hard anyways and having her hear what he was about to say would bring him apart at the seems.

"I didn't have no choice Zoe. I gave him time, he didn't reach us. Don't ask me what that means for anybody, cause I don't know. Now, I need you all to go about as if everything is okay. I don't need a stampede on my hands so Zoe, could you please keep an eye on those people."

She nodded and he took a tiny bit of strength in her unquestioning support.

"Jayne, you swap with her in about four hours time. Dong ma?"

Giving them a final glance, he moved through the room towards the stairs, ignoring the sharp pair of eyes he knew would be following him from the corner of the room. He'd already failed her once, no need to make it more painful; he'd speak later, after they'd all calmed down some. As he reached the steps Inara grabbed his arm in a feather light grip, a quiet but no less urgent 'Mal' dropping from her lips. He snorted ruefully and shook her hand off; he wasn't looking for comfort, not now.

Kaylee, tinkering away at the engine, was (thankfully) oblivious of the awkward conversation happening above her. She was solely focused on her work, desperate to not think about the events that had taken place not even half an hour before. It had been so sudden, so loud, so frightening and she had thought for a second that she would never make it, that Mal would have to go see her daddy and explain what had happened to his daughter on some far off planet. Then he'd tell her sisters and her mama and then-

Letting out a sob, she dropped to the floor, shivers racking her frame. She had been so scared, so worried that everything was going to go wrong. Reaching out with a pale hand, she grabbed the grated floor tightly and felt the familiar vibrations sooth her anxiety. She sat like that for what felt like an eternity before eventually wiping her eyes and giving the engine the attention it deserved. The familiar cranking and whirring washed over her and she once again felt at peace. It was, she said to herself, stupid for her to think it wouldn't turn out well. After all, when hadn't this crew picked themselves up after its problems? What with Niska and Hillfolk, they had to know how to bounce back.

"Kaylee!"

The young mechanic jumped at the shout, a hand shooting to her heart. Letting out a shaky breath, she smiled as she saw Inara lingering in the doorway and gestured for her to come in. Kaylee did not notice her reluctance however.

"Jeez 'Nara, talk about spooking people. The Cap'n need me for anything?"

Inara looked at her friend with calm eyes and Kaylee was immedietly put on guard. Inara might be a companion but she never managed to fool her and Kaylee knew something was slightly off straight away. She reached out and grabbed her hand, squeezing it in support; she was surprised when Inara drew it towards her chest and wrapped her other hand around it, effectively sandwiching Kaylee's hands between her own.

"Kaylee, darling.."

"Yeah 'Nara? What is it, what's wrong?"

Inara was silent for a moment, unable to meet the younger woman's eyes. Kaylee drew in a deep breath and felt tears gather at her own; it was rare when Inara wasn't collected and it always meant something bad, something extraordinarily terrible had happened. Something that wasn't easily fixed.

"Kaylee, when we left, did you happen to notice anything?"

Kaylee paused and ran the words through her mind then went back through her memories, from her in the yard to her arriving in the engine room. Nothing seemed amiss and she told Inara so; the woman just squeezed her hand and looked at her with pity.

"Oh mei-mei, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"Inara, what are you- what's happened- Inara what's going on?" Kaylee was starting to shake and panic and Inara seemed to realise that her apologies were only making things worse.

"Mei-mei, it's Simon. He didn't make it back to the ship."

Numb, Kaylee didn't feel her knees buckle, nor Inara's hands as she helped her to the hammock in the corner. Simon hadn't made it back to the ship. Simon, their doctor, her doctor, hadn't made it back. That meant one of two things. Either he was dead -which didn't bear thinking about- or he was alone on that planet; either way, he was alone and wasn't safe with her and the rest of the crew. Oh God, what about River?

"Ho-How, I mean why?" Her words were all muddled and Inara brought her into her side, brushing her hair with soft hands.

"We had to go. Mal had no choice. It was either him or all the people on the ship and-"

At her sob Inara fell silent and hugged her tighter, trying to restrain her own tears. The idea of telling Kaylee had been horrible but she knew it had to be done. Better now, she reckoned, then in an hour or so when they were getting over their escape. The loss of Simon was devastating and not just in a 'oh-there-goes-the-doctor' way. The crew had really warmed up to the Tams after the Jubal Early incident and she knew that even Jayne would be feeling slightly perturbed by his absence. When she had left the common room she had seen Book trying to speak to River and her heart tightened as she thought about what that poor girl was going through. She tightened her arms around Kaylee and continued trying to offer her all the comfort she could give.

Dickson kicked the piece of rubble away, coughing at the dust that flew off as it crashed onto the streets. His fellow soldiers turned to the sound, raising their guns in alarm. Seeing it was only him, they cursed loudly and moved away, searching the ruins for anything valuable. Grunting in dismissal, Dickson carried on walking aimlessly, eyes raking over the destroyed territory around him.

As soon as their bombs had stopped dropping, the soldiers had been sent into to sweep the city for any thing useful and it was made clear the people, if they were in the right condition, fell into the category alongside supplies or jewels and money. Scanning the crushed skyline, he very much doubted that they would find anybody alive, let alone fit enough to be taken along. Going from the reports over his radio, that was turning out to be true throughout the city.

Stopping to take a small break, Dickson leaned against a partially destroyed wall and pulled out his cigarettes. Lifting one to his lips, he shot to his feet at a sound coming from the other side of the wall. Speaking through the radio quietly, he alerted the men around him and they all gathered together, waiting for another sound. After a minute passed and no noise came again, Dickson worried that he had been mistaken and prepared to make hasty excuses when they all became ware of another groan and a small shuffling sound. The men moved without comment, most moving to cover behind scattered debris on the street. Dickson pressed himself against the wall and another man - Rob- adopted a similar position on the other side. They waited with bated breath.

A man, no taller than 5'9" stumbled through the crumbling doorway, dust and blood covering every inch. Dickson could see a dash of black hair as he paused, one convulsing arm lifting up to cover his eyes from the sunlight. His clothes were in rags and, stepping forward, he obviously favoured his right leg. Nodding to Rob, Dickson stepped away from the wall and swung the butt of his rifle into the man's bad leg. He went down with a grunt at the same time Rob yelled for him to put his hands up. Still dazed, he raised them slightly, wincing in pain as the sunlight hit his eyes. The other soldiers came out from behind their cover, rifles still pointed towards the kneeling figure.

Dickson, pleased with his find, swaggered forward and gripped the man's hair tight and pulled it back, eliciting a pained whine from his captive. He glanced at him, happy to find that he was young also; prime of life and barely a scratch meant the perfect kind of person to fall into the useful category. Dropping the hair he reached behind him for his baton. Holding it under his prisoners chin, he delighted in the fear he could see shining through the hazy gaze. He smirked as he spoke into his radio.

"Control, this is Private Dickman of 3rd squad. Yeah, we got somebody for ya."