Ghosts & Memories Past Chapter 10

Author: Brandywine00

Rating: T, maybe M later?

Disclaimer: Don't own them, don't make any cashy-money off of them. Joss rules!

Thanks to everyone for the continued interest in this tale, and for the shiny comments and questions. Special thanks to jellie_rayneluv for beta, help and constant encouragement!

Jayne has a secret, buried so deep even he doesn't know…

Chapter Ten – Missing

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Whitefall, fourth moon of Athens…

Zoë stood on the bridge, hands fisted on her hips, every sinew in her body screaming to tear after the wagon carrying her abducted crewmen, lay siege to Patience's place and reduce the compound to a smoking pile of sticks and cinders.

Serenity had flown to her location within minutes of Mal and Jayne being hauled away. But as anxious as they all were to chase down the wagon, it was Simon's cool head that prevailed.

"If we storm in to overtake them, they may simply kill one or both of the hostages," he reasoned, concern twisting his forehead despite the level tone of his voice. "As it stands, they must have plans that require Mal and Jayne alive. At least for a little while."

"Are ya sayin' we don't go after them?" Kaylee's voice broke a little, but she stood firm on the bridge, lightweight body armor peeking out from under her coveralls.

"Ain't sayin' that at all," Zoë cut in before the young woman's steam could get going. A long sigh escaped her. "Simon's right, though. Nobody would bother loading 'em up and hauling 'em away, especially once they had them down. Somebody wanted them dead right away, it'd done been done."

Inara wrapped an arm around Kaylee's shoulders. "We'll get them back, Mei-Mei. We just need a workable plan. What are our options?" The former Companion still seemed out of place without her fine silks and gauzy frippery, but somehow she made even her recently adopted wardrobe of plain canvas cargo pants and button-front cotton shirt seem elegant.

"We fly low. Stay off the scanners. Get close enough to see what's what," Zoë ordered. "Long as it looks like they ain't gonna be killed right off, we wait for nightfall. Me and River sneak in, spring 'em out. Inara, you be waiting with the shuttle, may need you to fly in close to get us all out."

No one spoke the shared thought that with all capable pilots off the ship, there would be no one to get Serenity back in the air if things went bad. It wouldn't matter, she realized, not one of them would leave until all the rest were aboard. Leave no man behind.

"Maybe they already got loose," Kaylee chirped, though even she didn't look entirely convinced at the possibility. "Any good luck, they'll be holed up somewhere waitin' for us."

"Perhaps, Mei-Mei," Inara soothed, shooting Zoë a frown. The first-mate grimaced, reading the other woman's unspoken message. The words 'Malcolm Reynolds' and 'good luck' weren't phrases generally heard together in the same sentence, lest somebody stuck 'an abysmal lack of' in between the two. Still, never hurt to keep eyes open along the way.

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Zoë's fingers gripped hard into the back of the seat, staring out across the landscape as River maneuvered the ship low across the desert. Still Wash's seat in her mind. In all their minds, and most like always would be, though the young woman handled Serenity with a finesse that would have made Wash proud.

Zoë swallowed down the bittersweet lump in her throat. His absence was an abyss she still fought to navigate, not entirely sure she wanted to climb out of it yet. Anguish sliced through her, familiar, anticipated, half-welcome these days. Unbidden, Zoë's mind reenacted her man's final moments. He had been the big damn hero, saved them all. 'I am a leaf in the wind…'

He'd pulled off an aerial escape from Reavers and Alliance both, under fire. '…Watch how I soar.' Landed the ship under nigh impossible conditions. He had done the job. She had never been prouder of her man. Wash had turned toward her with that sweet, somewhat mystified look. The next instant, he was gone, the heavy spear penetrating his chest, pinning him to the seat, that pleased, mystified look still on his face. Wind had blown away, leaf gone skittering off into some unknown oblivion far from her reach.

Do the job. Zoë blinked back the stinging heat in her eyes, focusing again on the blur of scrub and stunted trees flying past. River held the ship mere feet above the surface to keep Serenity off the scanners, both women keeping a keen watch for sentries, pursuers or the two missing crewmen.

"Cortex data on Whitefall's terrain is crude at best," River said into the silence.

"Hmm," the first-mate acknowledged.

"Probability of sentries increased by eighty-three percent within a two mile radius of the stronghold." River's cool, analytical voice drifted over the words, but the slight crinkle between her eyes betrayed the girl's worry. "If they see us… our odds of success will be reduced by–."

"Lousy odds, but still better than those of the Captain and Jayne making it through the night on the old bitch's turf." That hand may already have been dealt. "You able to do any of that fancy mind-readin'-genius stuff yet?"

River shook her dark head, still concentrating on the moon's close surface whizzing by. "Only able to read those nearby. But we are approaching a large group of buildings."

Zoë cursed softly. Too many ifs and maybes for her liking, but no help for it now. They'd have to stick to the plan, flimsy as it was. A whole compound full of Patience's folk, who knew how many Feds to boot, no guns mounted on Serenity and only two real fighters among them.

Leave no man behind. The alternative was unacceptable. The hole where her husband's memory lived was deep enough, threatened some days to rip her apart from the inside. If that hole had to encompass two more of her family…

Her eyes narrowed as River guided Serenity behind a row of low mountains east of the place. Inara would shuttle the two women quietly into closer range to scope out the lay of the land and then Zoë and the genius-crazy assassin would sneak into the compound at first opportunity. It was pretty obvious that Patience didn't want money. Either she'd been paid off already to capture the men, or she wanted revenge on Mal for their last meeting. Zoë's bet was on the latter. Wouldn't do any good to try to deal like she had with Niska when the vicious crime boss had captured and tortured Mal and Wash.

"This is suicide." The merc's words from that time flew back to her, and she almost laughed thinking he'd say the same gorram thing now. Jayne had grumbled about her and Wash's plan being insane, but in the end he had showed up unasked, armed to the teeth, and co-lead the assault that rescued Mal from certain slow and painful death.

The burly, quarrelsome man hadn't been easy to like right away, or even after a while. But he'd won over her grudging respect. Then surprising appreciation. Then actual friendship. She knew he'd saved her life after Wash died, first by pulling her back from the Reavers and later a dozen or more times on the job when she didn't care, blatantly sought out a bullet or a knife.

Don't know that I've rightfully thanked you for that, Jayne. But no bad luck, I will. I will.

And Mal…. He'd gotten her through the War. Through the hell that was the Alliance's idea of a post-war 'reeducation camp.' Mal would never leave her here, had their places been switched, no matter how bad the odds against him were. For all his bluster about bad men and outlaws, and even making the hard choices that didn't sit entirely right afterward – like pushing that man off the mule to make sure we could escape the Reavers on Lilac – the man was a ruttin' Boy Scout in a 'verse of turncoats and double-crossers. Too damned good a man, too good a friend to let die like this. Patience didn't have the right, Zoë thought viciously, planning to let the old bag know that at the business end of her mare's leg.

"We have to hurry," River said softly. "The mice scurry for cheese, dogs' teeth bared and angry. Cats have no time to play."

"Right," she replied flatly. Great. Mice and dogs and cats and cheese. Now is not the time for River to get feng li.

The young woman rolled her eyes. "Not crazy. Genius… mostly."

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