Author's Note: Riverthink in this chapter.

Chapter Three: The Soldiers

"Pretty," Wash said, looking over the abandoned farming station below. "What part do we blow up first?"

"None of it," Mal replied as they circled around the valley. "Jayne, you hear me? We're not blowing up any of it."

"Yeah, yeah," Jayne muttered, standing behind him in the bridge doorway.

"And no setting things on fire, either," Mal added, and Jayne grunted like a petulant schoolboy.

"Should at least secure the grounds," Zoë added from the ops station, and Mal nodded. He glanced at the display by River's station, showing a rough sensor map of the valley.

There were two large agri-domes, both about two hundred meters across, side-by-side, and a low, three-hundred meter long greenhouse next to them. A range of windmills were set up on one side of the valley, with power lines running down to the short spire of the central power plant in the middle of the complex, between the three buildings. A few once-tilled fields spread about the perimeter, now overgrown with a mixture of wild vegetables and grass.

"Okay, here's the deal," Mal said, pointing. "Zoë and Jayne, you two are gonna split up and check the perimeter. I'll help Kaylee get the mule prepped for transport. Might see if the Shepherd wants to help you two look about. Wash has got the boat."

"Me?" River asked.

"You an' Doc are going to check the buildings," he added, "but after I figured I'd let you two stay back at the ship 'less you're needed. Which, by the by, I hope we won't."

She nodded, not bothered by that. If they needed Simon's skills, something would have gone wrong, and if they needed River'sparticular talents, things would have gone very wrong.

"Going to jinx us, Captain," Zoë said, and Mal shrugged.

"Ain't spoken on particulars," he replied.

"Just means we ain't gonna know what we're gettin' jinxed by," Jayne grumbled.

"You are very up today," Wash added as he brought them down. Jayne grumbled and stepped out of the bridge, followed by Mal a moment later.

"Keep an eye out, hon," Zoe added, squeezing Wash's shoulder, and left as well, heading down to the bay.

It was warm on this day, though that was to be expected, as it was Corinth's summer cycle. The moon had a thicker than average atmosphere to compensate for its lower gravity and weak magnetic field. Athens hung in the air above them as they clomped down the ramp, a green-white ball of gas lazily spinning in the distance.

Jayne and Zoë were first out, weapons in hand but not expecting trouble. Once they found themselves looking over the complex, Jayne grunted, peering though his sunglasses.

"Looked smaller up above," he said, walking forward, Vera on his shoulder. He lifted a pair of magnoculars to his eyes.

"Indeed," Book said, walking behind them. Unlike the others, he wasn't armed. "It'll take time to cover this much ground, even with three sets of eyes."

"No one knows we're out here 'cept the yokels back in Hawkvale," Jayne added. "Don't 'spect nothin'."

"No excuse to get sloppy," Zoe replied, setting off. As they moved out, Jayne pointed toward the power plants up on the valley top.

"Got good cover up there," he said. "If I was gonna snipe us, it'll give good line of sight on the whole valley. I'll take a look up thataway, fine by ya'll."

"Go ahead," Zoë replied, and he set off double-time. They watched him rumble off, and started moving around the buildings. Book spoke up again after a bit.

"For someone who isn't expecting trouble, he seems oddly eager to get moving," Book remarked as they started off around the edges of the tilled fields.

"Jayne does take his job seriously," Zoë said. "But you're right. He has been acting more serious than usual lately."

"You think he suspects something?" Book asked.

"Jayne is always suspicious," Zoë said. "But after what he an' River went through with Niska, he's been a lot more jumpy."

"A near-death experience like that will do such things," Book said.

"Not entirely sure it was his near-death, either," Zoë mused. "He's been extra tolerant of a girl he seems to hate."

"I don't think its in him to hate her, at least not anymore," Book said. "You know that bonds forged in times of adversity form fastest and are the hardest to break."

"If it makes Jayne less horrific, I'm all for it," she said, understanding what he meant. Zoë and Mal were probably the two most loyal people on the ship, and that bond went back past the better half of a decade. It was no surprise that something similarly traumatic would bond even people like Jayne and River who mutually hated each other.

They walked on for a while longer. They were cutting across a green field of overgrown knee high grass when Book spoke up again.

"So, how long have you two been trying?" he asked, and Zoë gave a quick, quiet laugh.

"Preacher," she said, glancing back.

"Sorry, I don't mean to pry," he replied quickly. "And I'm not looking for details of the conception, either." She laughed again.

"A few months," Zoë admitted after a few moments of walking. "After Haven, and the fight against the Reavers, Wash and I figured that we were taking things too slowly, and we might have missed out on something beautiful." There was a heartbeat's silence. "We came so close to the wire back there . . . ."

She paused, looking away, and Book waited for her to continue. It was so unlike her to seem this distant, and for a moment he saw a flicker of vulnerability in her stance and face.

"I nearly lost him," she whispered, and then straightened herself back out. Zoë hefted her rifle and started moving again with a renewed purpose. After a moment, Book followed after her, and quietly wondered just what would have happened if she had lost her husband at that terrible point in their past.

The mule was being lowered as Simon and River stepped off the ramp. They could hear Mal and Kaylee yelling back and forth as they got the transport ready. He was clad in casual short sleeves, with a shirt he'd borrowed from Wash, while River wore one of her less flashy dresses. At her waist she wore the .45 she'd taken to, though it bothered Simon to see her armed in the first place. He didn't think he'd ever get used to seeing her wearing a pistol, especially after what happened to her the last time she'd carried a weapon.

"Butterflies," River mumbled, and Simon glanced her way through his red-tinted sunglasses. There were some flower patches growing about a hundred meters off, with little flecks of color flitting about overhead. He smiled at the way River spoke, and the look on her face as she peered their way.

"How long has it been since we've seen those?" he asked, and followed her as she scampered off towards them.

"Hey, Doc," Mal called, and the doctor paused, looking back. Mal was coming down the ramp, slipping on his gloves while the mule was starting up behind them.

"Ya'll don't wander too far afield," he said, following Simon as they walked across the grass toward the domes.

"Well, there's nowhere for us to wander to out here," Simon replied, looking back to River to keep her in sight. "I don't think there's any hill people to kidnap us this time."

"Yeah, that ain't my worry," Mal said. "I need ya'll to look about inside the buildings, remember? Just make sure nothin' is terribly out of place."

"Simple enough," Simon said. He glanced toward his sister, who was much closer now, in the middle of the flower patch and gazing at the butterflies. "If I can keep River on track."

"Yeah, just don't get any drink into her," he said. "She does funny things."

"Really," Simon said. "Like what?"

"Well, she might start ki - ow!" A rock thudded off his shoulder. River, who was still staring at the butterflies, lowered her hand quickly.

"Cows!" Mal said quickly, nodding.

"Cows?" Simon said, confused.

"Tippin' cows," Mal continued. "All manner of amusing sorts of things like that, you know."

"River, tipping cows?" Simon said, the mental image not processing in his brain.

"They make funny sounds when they fall over," she called back. "'Moooooo,' wumph." She made a gesture with her hands, pantomiming the act of bovine collapse to illustrate her point.

"Were there even any cows in Hawkvale to tip over?" the doctor asked, looking back toward Mal with a disbelieving tone.

"Lots!" Mal said, clapping his hands. "And she was full of it. Why don't you give her a good seeing to about that, I got work to do." Mal quickly retreated before Simon could protest, and he turned back to his sister, whose hands were flicking about, trying to grab the little white butterflies.

"You were . . . tipping cows?" he asked, still not believing what Mal had said.

She giggled, and then moved away, toward the nearest building.

"Come on," she called back. "Work, before we play!"

Simon sighed and followed after his sister, shaking his head. Well, at least she was in a good mood.

The wind felt good on his face up here. It was strong. His legs burned a little bit from the exertion of climbing up the hill, but now he could see why the engineers had put the windmills up this high. He figured this was probably a spot with strong wind currents and such; his folks back home had a couple of smaller windmills of their own to power the farm.

Jayne Cobb looked over the valley through his sunglasses, and started walking along the hills overlooking the valley. He paused from time to time, scanning the hills with his magnoculars. Thermal mode wasn't useful at all, warm as it was and with so many small heat sources from small animals and such, but electromagnetic spectrum wasn't showing any returns, and that was good. Meant they were the only folks about.

Usually. Machines were like to girl-folk, not to be trusted.

He swept the goggles back over the valley, checking his crew.

There. He could see Mal and Kaylee rolling out on the mule, heading for the nearest equipment shed to start clearing things out. Over another hundred meters or so he spotted Doc and River heading into an agri-dome. Shepherd and Zoë were moving opposite side of the valley.

He frowned. If he could see 'em, so could a sniper. Not that there was likely going to be one, but Jayne Cobb hadn't lived near to forty years in this line of work without being a suspicious sort. Had to keep his crew safe, after all.

Jayne paused, leaning up against the base of one of the windmills, and took a quick sip from the whiskey flask on his belt.

What was it Stitch had said, back on that shithole moon, about watchin' each others' back?

He shook his head. Stitch was dead. What he believed was dead too, lest Jayne Cobb keep it alive. The man he was back then was a slightly different man now. For one, he was gettin' paid better, and for another, he actually liked this crew. Stitch had been an ass, and woulda' done the same.

Not like the folks he worked with now.

He took another quick nip from his whiskey flask, replaced it, and then shouldered Vera again, before resuming his patrol.

It was about ten minutes later, and he was halfway around the little valley, when he heard the gunshots.

Rust speckled the struts overhead. It tingled.

She frowned as she walked through the trees in the dome. There wasn't any wind in here; the glass blocked it out, making everything very still. Very dead.

"River?" Simon called, walking up behind her. She saw the pages in his mind slowly turning, the ink very straight and precise and complex. He was looking up at the glass rooftop.

"Its dead," she felt herself saying.

"What's dead?" he asked, as she threaded through the trees. Her sandals had been left at the door, and her toes tasted warm dirt. It was all fake. A basic facsimile of real life, contained in glass and concrete and steel.

"Its a dollhouse," she said. "Dressed up, lined up in rows. None of its real."

"What?" he asked, not comprehending.

She smiled inwardly. Simon was still Simon after so long. Bound up by logic and worry and things making sense. Kaylee was helping him, but he still didn't feel.

Mal, Jayne, Zoë, they felt. They had intuition, instinct.

"They locked the trees up," she said, working to make the scents and whispers make sense. "Put the forest in a house. Made it fake for food."

"True," Simon said, nodding, and she caught a glimmer of understanding. "It looks clear in here. Nothing out of the ordinary, though I'm wondering why the captain wanted us to look around."

Mal only wanted her to look around, actually. Simon was her shepherd, but it was her eyes that were searching.

There was a whistling echo in the air, something Simon couldn't hear. Electronic, she guessed. It slid across her perception, buzzing and scraping. It drew her after it, strands tugging and pulling at her. Simon drifted after her, still looking around the fakeorchard.

The wind brushed her face as she stepped out of the dollhouse. Her eyes flicked across the domes, and centered on the spire of the power plant. The buzzing was coming from there, electrical scents tickling her ears and whispering into her skin and hair. They pulled her closer.

She froze. Something was there.

No, not there in front of her, but somewhere nearby. An awareness.

She turned and looked up, past the plant, toward the hills, and frowned. Now it was gone. Or was it still there, and she'd lost it?

River's head was protesting, the skull tapping her brain painfully. She rubbed her temple, grumbling, and heard Simon's worry.

"River?" he asked, drawing closer.

"Okay," she mumbled, not wanting any medicine. She turned back toward the buzzing as he rummaged through his bag, and she looked up the spire. Pipes and cables writhed underneath the outer plating, wires tracing the lines toward the windmills in the hills. Midway up the plant, she saw speckled paint, blue words on a wide sheet of metal, telling the words-

cold

White walls, steel halls, dolls and needles

Faces. Voices. masks blankness screaming.

Buzzing against her skull, through the anesthetic, blades and cutting, questions, things she didn't want

you're doing good, River

Hands. Blue hands. Holding a blue star

Faces. One face. Close, sorrow, questioning

I'll hold you close. I'm not letting them hurt you

deep underground, and I do not make a sound

No. No, she wasn't there, she wasn't going back, to that place, where they dig in and cut out pieces she needed to be normal bastards sons of bitches reaching toward her face and closing around her throat, choking, hurting her hurting Jayne hurting Simon hurting Mal hurting Kaylee hurting EVERYONE, screaming no no nonononNONONO!

Metal, in her hands. Power. Hate. Her throat hurt as it kicked in her fingers. Shouts, hands, fear touching her, telling her to be calm. She lashed out, not letting the fingers deny her.

not taking me back

"Shots fired!" Zoë yelled over the radio as the echoing reports cut across the dome.

"Who's shooting?" Mal yelled, jumping off the mule. They'd parked next to a drone shed, and were loading up deactivated agri-bots when he'd heard the gunfire.

"Not me," Jayne called over the radio.

"Not me," Zoë added.

"Simon?" Mal called over the radio, and started running in the direction of the gunfire, his pistol in hand. No response. "Simon! River! Respond!"

"Shots came from the power plant!" Jayne added over the radio. Mal trusted his sharp mercenary ears.

"Sounds like a handgun," Zoë added. ".45 caliber." Mal's heart clutched up. Doc hadn't been armed. That meant . . . River.

He dashed between two sheds, closing in with the plant, and heard more gunfire, and screaming. There was a pause, a screeching sob, and then more shots.

He ran around a corner, and saw the power plant. Lying in the dirt was Simon, clutching his throat and gasping for air, and standing over him was River.

Tears ran down her face, which was twisted in a mixture of rage, terror, and pain as she raised her handgun, firing it at the side of the building. She was screaming something incoherent, and Mal picked out a few words, mostly wild, sobbing curses.

"River!" he yelled, holstering his gun and running toward her. "River, snap out of it!"

She must have heard him, because she looked down, locking eyes with his, and leveled the pistol at Mal. He came to a dead halt and raised his hands to soothe her.

She stood there, trembling, tears still flowing from her face, sobbing even as she kept him right in her sights.

"Captain," she breathed. "Mal . . . ."

"River," he said, quietly and calmly.

"Run," she breathed. "Run away. They're coming."

"River . . . ." Mal said, holding his hands toward her, in a placating gesture he hoped she'd pick up on.

"They're coming!" she screamed, backing away from Mal. "Get away from me! They're coming with their sounds and they're going to make you scream and . . . and liquid!"

She was getting hysterical. Panicking. He knew that tone well from his days as a sergeant, and knew how to counter it.

"River!" Mal yelled, in a voice he remembered from the war, when he saw shell-shocked soldiers locking up. "Put the gun down, now!"

She hesitated, and then shook her head, whirling around and pointing the weapon back toward the power plant.

"Have to . . . to keep them back!" she sobbed, and fired again into the air.

Mal dashed toward her while she was distracted. He was only a few meters way when she spun back, the weapon drooping, and the magazine clattered out of its well. She fumbled for more ammunition as he got closer, and then looked up, eyes widening.

Sorry, he thought, and his fist connected with her jaw.

She went down, hard, the pistol clattering away across the dirt. She rolled over, shock and confusion flickering over her face, and then she started to rise.

Mal knew River was just as dangerous unarmed as she was armed, and took a step back as the girl tried to recover from being belted across the face. His mind raced, his hand dropping to his holster, and he tried to remember the words.

"Et . . . eta karoom na-"

She kicked him in the sternum. He twisted with the blow, spinning around, his stomach hurting, and raised his arms instinctively. Her fists thudded against them, pain lancing up his forearms. Gorram, she hit hard, but Mal knew she was disoriented, uncoordinated, lashing out on automatic.

The last thing she had expected was for Mal to punch her.

"River," Simon was gasping, trying to stand up. She looked away from Mal for an instant, and he struck. A hard blow would probably be blocked, and end with a whole lot of pain on his part, so Mal instead simply used his sheer strength and size and bowled into River, wrapping his arms around her. She let out a gasp of shock as they tumbled to the ground, and she immediately started struggling. He locked his arms around her tight, pinning her limbs to her sides.

"Let me go!" she screamed, her voice so loud it hurt his ears.

"Not till you calm the hell down!" he bit back. She thrashed, shaking in his grip, and he pulled his head back as he realized she could still try to bite him. She didn't, though, and instead simply kept bucking against him, half-incoherent babbling demanding that he let go.

Then he realized she didn't want to hurt him.

"River," he hissed. "River! Listen to me! Listen to me!"

She was still thrashing and struggling, worming her arms out of his grip, but as he held her tight, he saw her eyes focus. He saw a glimmer of awareness.

Tears trickled down her face.

"They're coming," she sobbed. "They're coming to hurt us. I see them! Hands of blue, hands of black, hands of brown, they're all coming for us!"

"River," Mal said, his voice firm and solid, driving against the madness. "No one's coming. Not here. I've got you. You're safe. You hear me in there? You're safe!"

"But you're not," she breathed, and suddenly her arms snapped out wide with a shocking show of strength. His own arms parted a hair, which was all she needed. Her head snapped forward, forehead meeting his, and he reeled backward. There was a twist, a shift of weight, and Mal found himself rolling away, no longer holding her.

She was diving for her gun.

"Eta karoom na smech!" Simon finally yelled, rising and stumbling, and Mal saw River grab her pistol. She turned, loading it, and raised it into the air.

Then she stopped, fell to her knees, and her eyes closed.

Mal caught her as she dropped, cradling the girl as peace finally touched her.

He cradled her body as the others got closer, and looked up at the power plant, and the Blue Sun sign, pockmarked with bullet holes.

"Did you see that?" Mitch whispered, thumbing his radio. He was hot underneath the ghillie suit, overlooking the valley and the small crew working below.

"Something interesting just happened down there," Ott said.

"Looks like the crew is starting to move back toward the ship," Si Quan added.

"Right," Ott added. "Good a chance as any. Move in. Do not engage until the signal."

"Boo," Selke whispered, his voice disappointed.

Mitch started to crawl forward, over the top of the hill. As he moved, he touched his radio again.

"Boss," he said.

"Yeah?"

"That girl, the little one who was shooting the sign?"

"What about her?"

"Okay, this is weird, but . . . I think she saw me."

"Mitch, you're half a kilometer away on a hill wearing a ghillie suit. How the hell do you think she saw you?"

"Just a feeling, boss," Mitch said, verbally shrugging. "Like she was lookin' right at me."

"You're paranoid," Ott replied, his voice dismissive. "Get ready for some real work. This job is a million square, so don't get jumpy on me, understood?"

"Right, boss," Mitch said, firming his jaw as he slid across the grass and bushes.

There was a lot of folks crowded in or around the infirmary, and most of them were in the way. Mal loomed over the main bed, while Simon finished checking River's unconscious body. Mal and Simon her back, though the captain could tell Jayne had been worried over her almost as much as the doc or Wash or Kaylee. He still hadn't shared anything about what they'd spoken of after pulling those two out of Niska's place, but he understood Jayne's awkward protectiveness.

The Captain looked up to his crew, who were all milling about and not doing anything useful aside from worrying.

"Doc needs room," he said, and gestured for the crew to begin leaving. He stopped Zoë and Jayne, pulling them back inside, and, after a few seconds, brought Book in as well.

"Doc, what the hell happened out there?" he asked. Simon shrugged, still keeping his eyes on his sister.

"No physical damage as far as I can tell," he said, "save for one monster of a bruise you left on her jaw."

"Wasn't sure if she was gonna shoot me or not," Mal said.

"No, I'm not accusing you of anything," Simon added over his shoulder. "But aside from that, no real trauma."

"She'll be okay, then?" Book asked, and Simon nodded.

"Judging by how these things have worked out in the past, some time asleep should get her back to normal," Simon said. "I'm going to give her a light sedative anyway. She should be back up on her feet in about an hour."

"You know what brought this about?" Zoë asked. Simon sighed, shaking his head.

"If I knew, I would have stopped her," Simon said. "She was walking toward the power plant, and started looking like she was upset. She said something about people taking her, then pulled her gun and started firing."

"She was shooting up the Blue Sun sign," Mal said.

"Girl's always had a problem with blue," Jayne muttered.

"Yes, she prefers you in red," Zoë deadpanned. He didn't reply, except to scratch his beard.

"Blue Sun," Book murmured, and Mal looked toward him.

"You know somethin', Shepherd?"

"No, not really," Book replied quietly, looking distant. Mal frowned, crossing his arms.

"Seems I recall someone was giving me a little lecture on honesty a while ago," he added, and Book turned to meet his gaze. There was a moment's silence.

"I suppose we all know a little too much to share," Book replied. He gestured to River, who Simon was injecting with a sedative. "I don't know anything concrete, but I have suspicions."

"Care to shed some light on them?"

"No," Book said, bluntly. "I don't." With that, he turned and departed from the infirmary, leaving Mal with his second, his mercenary, and his doctor.

"We gonna lock her up again?" Jayne asked, his tone a bit worried. A glare from Mal answered that question.

"Did you two get done with the perimeter?" Mal asked, and they both shook their heads.

"Stopped when we heard the gunfire," Zoë said. "Got about halfway done checking things out."

"So, we could have a regiment of Feds out there now celebratin' Chinese New Year and we wouldn't know about it," Mal said, and they nodded. "Well, let's fix that."

Thy filed out quickly, leaving Mal alone with Simon and the unconscious girl. Mal glanced out the door and then closed it, and Simon glanced up, noting they were sealed off from the others.

"She's gettin' worse," Mal said, and Simon slowly shook his head.

"I'm trying to remain optimistic," the doctor said, "I think this might have just been a bad day, and she's still suffering from post-traumatic stress. I definitely think that she was remembering her time in the Academy."

"That's bad enough," Mal said, rubbing his jaw. "We were lucky she didn't try shooting any of us. But next time, we might not be so lucky."

"You're a ray of good cheer, Captain," Simon deadpanned, sitting down across the bed from Mal.

"I'm tryin' to keep realistic, is all," he replied, looking at the sleeping girl's face. Truth was, he remembered when they had been in the Maidenhead, and River had pulled a gun from one of the thugs in the bar. She'd pointed it at him, and had Mal dead to rights, but for some reason had hesitated.

Of course, it said something that the only reason she'd gotten a chance to shoot him was because he'd held his fire as well.

"She doesn't go armed again," Mal said. "Not 'till I give leave. And we're gonna keep her on the boat for a little bit, 'least until this job is done."

"Okay," Simon said, agreeing with his decision.

Mal stood up, and started heading out of the infirmary, when Simon spoke up.

"Captain," he said, and Mal looked back.

"I know there weren't any cows in Hawkvale," he said. "So, what was River doing last night?"

"She tell you?" Mal asked, and Simon glanced to her.

"She wouldn't give me a straight answer. I'm worried that it might have something to do with what just happened."

Mal mused over that a moment, and weighed what he'd seen. If River hadn't told Simon, it meant she might have been uncomfortable with it getting out. He had a slight bruise on his shoulder that correlated that. On the other hand, he had a lingering suspicion that . . . .

"I don't think it does," Mal answered.

"I need to know-"

"I'm not at liberty to discuss," Mal replied. "If she wants to talk about it, she'll tell you about it. I look after mine, and that means I look after all their interests. Including personal."

Simon fell silent, and withdrew, accepting that.

"You gonna leave her here?" Mal asked after a few seconds.

"No," Simon said. "She'd be more comfortable in her room anyway."

He was about to reach down and pick her up when Mal stepped around and scooped River up into his own arms.

"I've got her, Doc," he said. "Don't worry. Not gonna drop her."

"Been an excitin' day," Kaylee muttered as she headed back across the overgrown fields. Behind her, Jayne grunted.

"'tween the gunfightin' and Zoë bein' knocked up, its been interesting," he grumbled. He stayed behind her, escorting the little mechanic back on her rounds, and she disappeared into the tool shed to begin packing up the valuable drones, and Jayne lingered by the doorway.

"You gonna help me or just stand there?" she asked.

"Just keepin' a lookout," Jayne said. "This place is gettin' me paranoid."

"Why?" she asked, packing up another drone.

"Well, I dunno," Jayne said. "River's gone loopy, again, and that sorta crazy puts a man on edge." He stepped away from the doorway, looking around, squinting in the glare.

"Besides, the place bothers me for other reasons. Like the bushes ain't where they're supposed to be."

"Huh?" she asked, looking back, and he pointed.

"That bush right there. I swear it was about halfway up the hill when we came out here. Now its down next to the field."

"Jayne, you're just gettin' stir-crazy," Kaylee said, scoffing at his paranoia. "Been cooped up on the boat too long."

"I'm serious," Jayne said, frowning mightily. "Feels like somethin's sneakin' about. Like I got eyes starin' right at me."

"Yeah, we've got lotsa ninjas runnin' round these parts," Kaylee muttered, and he scowled at her. She ignored him and went back to disassembling the drones.

"I'm gonna go have a look about."

"Fine," she called after him. "Keep an eye out for ninjas for me."

"Ha ha," he called back, disappearing outside, and trudged off.

Kaylee worked the next few minutes in silence, humming to herself as she worked, and tried to get her mind off what had happened with River. Truth was, it was bringing back memories of her cutting Jayne up, and then later on the run at Niska's space station. After all that had happened, she and Kaylee were still tight friends, and she was showin' nothing but cheer at Simon loosening up with Kaylee, even if that meant he was spending less time taking care of her. That was something Kaylee felt needed to be fixed, because she knew from personal experience that brothers and sisters needed to stay together, and River needed lookin' after more than anyone.

But thinking about family brought her back to her own sisters, and Kaylee wished she'd been able to spend more time with Ash back on Persephone. But they'd been in a rush, and Simon was so worried for her, like Wash was worried over Zoë so much.

That was the one piece of good news that was really keeping a smile on Kaylee's face. She had to wonder what they were going to name the kid, and she was already considering redecorating a passenger bunk into a nursery. Too bad Simon didn't have any ultrasound equipment, but maybe they could chip in and get one for the infirmary . . . .

Kaylee had finished loading up the last of the drones - those alone would be worth a small fortune - and was tying them down when she heard footsteps behind her.

"Jayne?" she called, and started to turn around, when something horribly cold and sharp nicked her throat.

Kaylee froze, gasping in shock as she felt a man standing beside her, a thin figure with stringy hair, and pale, almost white skin. He glared at her with hungry, dark eyes, and she saw he was naked from the waist up.

"Shhh," he whispered, his voice like a snake, and held a long, curved knife up against her throat. At his waist were a dozen more just like it.

Kaylee felt fear clutching her chest and shooting up her spine. For an instant, she flashed back to that time in the engine room, where she had found herself face-to-face with . . . with . . . .

Jubal Early.

The memory drained the strength from her limbs, and replaced it with uncontrolled shaking.

"Wh-who-" she stammered, remembering that voice, and those eyes, and the sheer helplessness of that moment, just like now.

"Shhh," the knife-wielding man hissed, more forcefully this time, and his other hand rose to his ear.

"Ott," Selke whispered, smiling. "I've got the mechanic."

-

Author's Notes: Now, a truely genre-savvy villain would know that the moment you start threatening Kaylee, someone is going to hurt you. :P

As an aside, this chapter also has a little bit of foreshadowing that ties in with a particular event that happened earlier.

Now, that said, there's no further commentary on this chapter, except that the next couple of chappies are going to be quick and vicious. Alas, for Simon sedating his sister . . . .

Until next chapter . . . .