"Bester!" Mal barked as he made his way down the aft deck hall towards his engine room. "What in the hell is this I hear about another delay? Supposed to have this engine fixed and us up and run..." Mal abruptly spun around as he came into the engine room at the sight and sounds of his mechanic sweating and grunting on top of some poor girl. "Suo you de dou shi dang (in the name of all that's proper)!" He muttered. "Bester." Mal waited a beat. "Bester." No response. "Bester!" He bellowed.

"What? Crap!" The mechanic in question jumped up; pulling with him his shorts. "What?" He asked a bit too innocently for Mal's current mood.

"You do realize we've been parked on this rock a week longer than planned?" Mal clenched his fists to keep himself in place.

"Yeah. But. Um, well" Bester started a bit disorientated. "There's stuff to do."

"As, for example, that job we got waitin' on us on Paquin." Mal informed him heatedly. "When we landed you, said you needed a few days to get us space worthy again... and is there something wrong with your bunk?" He added disgustedly as the poor girl in question began pulling up her dress.

"Why?" Bester asked, genuinely not understanding.

Mal jerked his head to the girl dressing behind his engine block.

"Oh, no," Bester shrugged and leaned in to whisper to his captain. "Engines make her hot." He said with a chuckle.

"Bester," Mal closed the distance between them and the look on his face should have communicated his feelings clearly enough but, as he was dealing with a gorram moron, he decided to make himself clearer. "Get your prairie harpy off my boat and put us back in the air." He bit off each word slowly so the mechanic could understand.

"Okay, but..." Bester chuckled, "can't."

Mal resisted the overwhelming urge to crack his mechanic's head against the engine block several times; sometimes if you hit a thing, it worked. "What do you mean 'can't'?"

"No can do, Cap." Bester shrugged.

"Yeah, I got that part. Why?"

"Secondary grav boot's shot." He shrugged.

"No, it ain't." Mal ducked his head to look around Bester and at the girl who was trying to zip up her dress. "Ain't nothin' wrong with your grav boot." She continued as if she wasn't actually getting herself redressed after being caught. "Grav boot's fine." She laughed a little breathy kind of giggle as she turned. "Hello."

Mal glared at Bester.

"She doesn't that's not no it ain't." Bester fumbled.

"Sure it is." The strawberry blonde assured the men. "Grav boot ain't your trouble. I seen the trouble, plain as day, while I was down there on my back before." She explained simply and without the slightest twinge of embarrassment. "Your reg coupla's bad."

Mal looked at Bester, who only managed to succeed in stuttering more. "The red—the what?" He looked away from his captain, and back towards the girl whose name he couldn't quite remember.

"The reg coupla, see? Right here?" She said as she turned back and crouched down to point the part out. "

"No." Bester snorted.

"This." She pointed impatiently, the supposed mechanic blinked blankly at her and she gave an irritated snort of her own as she reached in and removed the casing.

"Hey!" Bester protested, Mal did not.

"Here." She said simply. "Hand me that will you?" She pointed to a wrench behind Mal and the captain handed it over eagerly. "Don't serve much of a purpose anyway." The girl giggled with a slight shrug. "All's it really does is gum up the works when it gets tacked. So, I figure, why even have one?" She added conversationally as she dove right into the engine and set to work. "Better just to take your G-line and plug it straight into the port pin-lock-" she explained while she worked, "-and that should" Her words were cut off by the whirring of the engine and she stepped back with a satisfied grin. "There!"

"What'd you do?" Bester asked, a bit stunned.

"She fixed it." Mal deadpanned.

"Well, it wasn't really broke." She shrugged.

"Where'd you learn to do that, miss?" Mal asked.

"Just did it that's all," she said with another little shrug. "My daddy says I got natural talent."

"I'll say you do at that." The captain smirked, a new idea forming in his mind.

Bester was inspecting the piece the girl had removed. Quite frankly, he had no idea what the Hell it was. "Don't we need this?"

Mal ignored him. "You work for your daddy, do ya?"

"Well, when's he got work, which ain't often as of late." She grumbled a bit and blew a strand of hair out of her face.

"You got much experience with a vessel like this?"

"Oh, I've never even been up in one before." She blushed for the first time.

"Wanna?" Mal asked, an eyebrow raised.

"You mean-?"

"Sure." Mal informed her; Bester utterly forgotten.

"For how long?" Her eyes grew wide.

"Long as you can keep her in the sky." Mal offered.

"You offerin' me a job?" She smiled sweetly.

"Whoa... what?" Bester finally rejoined the conversation and was duly ignored.

"Believe I just did."

The girl's face broke into a beaming smile. "I just gotta ask my folks." She practically ran out of the engine room. "Don't leave without me." She paused in the doorway to make sure the offer had been real and wasn't just some kinda dream.

"Mal!" Bester huffed; not at all pleased some skirt had shown him up and was likely to continue to do so. "What do you need two mechanics for?"

"I really don't."

*T*F*C*

"Kaylee, what's it look like, girl; and give me some gorraam good news." Mal asked as he walked into the engine room. Serenity's heart was silent, the air tasted off and Mal fought hard to swallow back his own self-directed anger.

"I'm sorry, Cap'n." The mechanic's voice was quiet; laced with remorse and heavy with guilt. She didn't look up when he entered. "I'm real sorry. I shoulda kept better care of her. I knew she was hurtin'. I knew it was bad. She tried to tell me, but I just kept pushin' her and pushin' her."

"Kaylee, I can't be havin this from you right now." Mal forced calm into his voice as he bent down in front of her. "We got work to do, dong ma (understand me)?"

"Catalyzer's broke. Gonna need a new one." She told him flatly, holding out the piece of scrap in her hands.

"There is no new one. You gotta make do with what you got. That's what you do, right? You make do. Told me so yourself."

"It's broke." She looked away and back towards the engine. "She tried to tell me."

"C'mon." Mal took the piece from her in one hand and her hand in his other and led her over to the massive engine block. "This part? Don't seem like nothin'." He tried to causally shrug it off. "All right," he said as they stood in front of it. "Where's it go?"

Kaylee gave the engine a half spin and took the piece from Mal. "Here, 'cept it don't fit no more."

"Well, you gotta figure a way to make it fit." Mal insisted.

"Sometimes a thing gets broke and it can't be fixed." Kaylee told him bluntly; her voice full of unshed tears.

"Without this, the engine don't turn?" Kaylee nodded her head. "Engine don't turn, life support won't function and we don't breathe. You wanna keep breathing, don't you?" He asked her bluntly.

Kaylee gave another slow nod of her head.

"So do I. This is what we got to work with Kaylee-girl. I need you to make it work."

*T*F*C*

"How is she?" Inara asked quietly from the doorway of the infirmary. The look in Simon's eyes told her everything she needed.

"Still unconscious." He mumbled as he rubbed his hands against his face. "Her vitals are strong, and, it may be hard to believe, but as long as she remains like this-" he gestured to the sleeping form of his sister, "-she'll outlive us all." Inara looked at him blankly so he added, "She's using less oxygen."

"She's strong, Doc." Riddick rumbled without looking up from the stool he was sitting on next to River's bed.

"I know she is, Riddick." Simon snapped tiredly; he was beyond his limit with Riddick trying to tell him about his sister. He knew his sister was strong. He knew she was a fighter.

/Brother's really beginning to piss me off, girl./ He tried again to reach her and, just as every other time before, nothing came; just the vague echo of her presence somewhere in his mind.

He ignored the watchful eyes of the Companion and doctor as he smoothed away the errant strands of hair from her face. One throaty growl from him reminded the doctor how easily Riddick could remove the surgeon should he even attempt to protest.

"I always thought the name "Serenity" had a vaguely funereal sound to it." Simon snorted bitterly as he dropped down onto a stool of his own. "Suffocation's not exactly the most dignified way to go." The young doctor inhaled deeply; taking advantage of the fact it might be the last time he was ever able to do so. "The human body will—"

"Please," Inara stopped him before he could continue. "I really don't require a clinical description right now." She requested, smoothing out her dress as she pulled her shawl more tightly around herself. "I love this ship." Inara defended her home as she ran her fingers along the metal. "I have since the first moment I saw it."

"I just don't want to die on it." Simon clarified. "I'm sorry." He said quietly. "It's just... " He swallowed back hard. "It was my birthday," he tried to shrug it off. "Kind of ironic, I suppose, to die on your birthday."

"She won't let us." Inara reassured him quietly as she slipped her hand into the doctor's.

"Even if River wasn't unconscious, I highly doubt even she would be able to fix this." Simon said sadly.

/ Shows how much your brother knows. /

"I wasn't talking about River," Inara corrected him, as her fingers traced the lines of a low hanging pipe. "I was talking about Serenity. Have a little faith, Simon."

"I don't think she's got much of a choice in the matter." Simon tried to smile, but it was a useless endeavor. "Ship's don't run on faith. They run on power, and we don't have any."

"Have faith, Simon." Inara repeated.

*T*F*C*

"Well, here she is." Mal said proudly as he escorted the Companion into one of the shuttles. "Nice. ain't she?"

"Smallish," the veiled beauty replied.

"Well, not overly. How much room do you really need for what you do, anyway?" He joked. "Got a surveyor and his wife interested in renting it. They're just waiting to hear back." He lied.

The Companion chose to ignore his remark as she passed him to inspect the cockpit. "What's her range?" The woman asked as she lifted her veil.

"Standard short. She'll break atmo from a wide orbit." He followed her back to the cockpit and watched as she made herself comfortable in the pilot's chair. He couldn't repress the slight indignation in his tone. "Get you where you need to go and bring you home again."

"No need to sound so defensive, Captain." She assured him with a lovely smile as she rose from the chair and slid past him. "I prefer something with a few miles on her."

Mal watched her as she looked over the shuttle, every so often her hand would caress a piece of pipe; a soft smile would grace her lips as she regarded the metal. He couldn't help letting his eyes dwell on the contours of her bare stomach and the soft curves of her hips where her skirt rested low. The dark green coloring of the silk enhanced the golden tone of her skin and he found himself swallowing hard as he forced himself to look away. He reminded himself that it would cost a pretty bit of coin to run his fingers along it and he had no taste for women who could be bought.

"Were we to enter into this arrangement, Captain Reynolds, there are a few things I would require from you. The foremost being complete autonomy. This shuttle would be my home. No crew member, including yourself, would be allowed entrance without my express permission."

"You'd get your privacy." Mal nodded.

"Good and, just to so we're clear, under no circumstances will I be servicing you or anyone who is under your employ." She added rather bluntly.

"I'll post a sign." He agreed, a bit offended.

"That won't be necessary. The other thing I would insist upon is some measure of assurance that when I make an appointment with a client I'm in a position to keep that appointment. So far as such assurances are possible on a vessel of this type."

"That's an awful lot of caveats and addendums there, miss."

"As I stated, I just want to be clear."

"Well, I'll be sure and take all that into consideration when I review the applications." He turned and began to walk away.

"Don't be ridiculous. You're going to rent this shuttle to me." She assured him.

"Am I?" He turned back to face her.

"Yes, and for one quarter less than your asking price." The Companion informed him.

"Is that a fact?" He asked raising his eyebrow.

"It is." She smiled confidently.

"And you figure you'll be gettin' this discount why exactly?"

"You want me." Mal blinked as she took a step closer. "You want me on your ship." She clarified.

"Do I?"

"Yes, because I can bring something your surveyor or any of the other fish on the line you have cannot, a certain respectability."

"Respecta-"

She cut him off. "And based on what little I've seen of your operation" she smiled slightly. "I suspect that is something you could use."

"Fine. Let me ask you this: If you're so respectable, why are you even here?" He challenged smugly. "I mean, I heard tell of fancy ladies such as yourself shipping out with the big fancy luxury liners and the like, but a Registered Companion on a boat like this? What are you running from?"

"I'm not running from anything." She said indignantly and a bit too quickly.

"If it's Alliance trouble you got, you might wanna consider another ship. Some on here fought for the Independents." He said brazenly.

"The Alliance has no quarrel with me, I supported Unification." She replied calmly, unfazed by the captain's attempts of intimidation.

"Didja? Well, I don't suppose you're the only whore that did." He deadpanned.

"Oh, and one further addendum" she rolled her eyes slightly, "Captain Reynolds, that's the last time you call me a whore." She turned and walked away.

"Absolutely. Never again."

*T*F*C*

"Crew's gathered, sir." Zoe said as she came onto the bridge.

Mal's gaze didn't waver from the window. "She's hurt bad, Zoe."

"When you can't run anymore, you crawl; and when you can't do that, you—"

"Find somebody to carry you." Mal finished tersely. "Ain't none of us can carry Serenity, she's gonna smother us all."

"Not one of us, sir, all of us. Girl's been good to us, we ain't done yet."

"And that's the truth." Mal pushed himself out of the pilot's chair. "And here's another, I'm givin' the order. Wash is right, ain't nobody out there to hear us."

"Sir?" Zoe questioned, but Mal didn't answer.

*T*F*C*

"Well?" Mal's voice echoed through the empty ship, full of self satisfaction.

"You paid money for this?" Zoe arched a brow after taking a hard look around her. "On purpose?"

"Come on, Zoe," Mal complained a bit petulantly. "Seriously, whaddya think?"

"Honestly sir?" She looked around again. "I think you got robbed."

"Robbed? What do you mean?" He asked a bit defensively.

"It's a piece of fei-oo (junk)." She said bluntly.

"Fei-oo?" Mal looked around and gave a little shrug. "Okay, so she ain't winning any beauty contest, that's true enough. But she's solid. A ship like this will be with you 'til the day you die." He said confidently.

"That's 'cause it's a deathtrap, sir." She informed him.

"That's not..." He made a bit of a noise in the back of his throat in frustration. "You are very much lacking in imagination."

"Well, I imagine that's so, sir." She smirked.

"C'mon, you ain't even seen most of it." He jerked his hand for her to follow and she couldn't help but compare the image of him to a kid showing off his new tree fort. "I'll show you the rest; and try to see past what she is to what she can be." He emphasized.

"What's that, sir?" She asked skeptically.

"Freedom, is what."

"No, I meant," she pointed a little off to the right of them. "What's that?"

Mal looked down and shrugged. "Oh, just step around it; I think somethin' was livin' in here."

Hardened soldier as she was, Zoe couldn't repress the grimace on her face at the prospect of cleaning up that and whatever the Hell else that something left around the place.

"I tell ya, Zoe, we find ourselves a mechanic, get her running again. Hire on a good pilot, maybe even a cook." He shrugged happily. "Live like people. Small crew, just them that feel the need to be free. Take jobs as they come-," his face hardened slightly, as did his posture, "-won't never have to live under the heel of nobody ever again. No matter how long the arm of the Alliance gets, we'll just get us a little further."

"Get her running, 'again', sir?"

"Yup."

"Meanin' she's not runnin' now?"

"Not so much but she will. You in, Zoe?" He turned to face her expectantly.

"Ain't I always, sir?" She smirked.

"Shiny." He grinned back.

"Just one thing, sir."

"What?" He asked impatiently.

"You're cleanin' up the piles of crap."

*T*F*C*

The crew had assembled in the common room; though Riddick remained in the infirmary, he would be able to hear well enough. Heavy jackets and blankets had been passed around and the air was beginning to get so cold their breath had begun to mist. They eyed the small puffs warily; as if they need another reminder of the value of air. Mal entered from the bay stairs and all eyes landed on him expectantly. He cleared his throat as he tugged down his shirtsleeves. What he wanted to say was, This is my fault, but there wasn't any point in it.

"Well, as you're all keenly aware, we've got ourselves a bit of a situation here. Engine's down, life support's on the fritz, and I got ten people all wantin' to breathe. We could take turns-," he tried to joke. "But it ain't really an option. Truth is, friends, we ain't got a whole lot of options left." He paused to run his hand almost reverently along a length of low hanging pipe. It was both a caress and an apology. "So, now, instead of talkin' about what we don't have, I wanna talk about what we do. Two shuttles. Both have heat. Both have air. And it'll last a lot longer than what Serenity's got left."

"Long enough to reach someplace?" Simon asked nervously from behind him; one eye darting to his sister, still fully intubated and unconscious.

"No." Mal admitted.

"Where do we go then?" Book inquired next as he looked up from the tattered remains of his worn leather bible.

"Far as you can get. We send both shuttles off in opposite directions, betters the chance of somebody being seen, maybe even get picked up." He stopped to let it sink in. "Wash, Zoe, and Book, you'll ride with Inara. Riddick, Kaylee, Jayne, and the Tams in the second."

"And what about you?" Zoe asked tersely.

"Somebody might still get that signal; somebody's got to stay behind with our girl."

"That's suicide, Mal." Riddick rumbled; remembering all too clearly the last time he ran in a shuttle into the Black. It hadn't played out well then and it didn't look as though it would play out much better this time either. "And you know it."

"This is how it's gonna be." Mal said with finality.

"With all due respect, sir," Zoe said rising. "Fuck you."

"'Bout time somebody said it." Jayne grunted as he tightened his hold on Kaylee, who was nestled in his lap. "Ain't leavin' ya, Mal. You stay, we stay. You go, we go." None were more surprised to hear those words come out of Jayne Cobb's mouth than the man himself; and he'd had no idea he was going to say them until they had come out. It could have been the scent of Kaylee, which reminded him of his vow on Canton; he'd made it to himself holding her just as he was now. It could have been the thought of drifting to a slow death out in the endless blackness of space, which made him a mite uncomfortable with the idea. Whatever the reason, the words were said, and he wasn't taking them back.

"Mal, this isn't the ancient sea, you don't have to go down with your ship." Inara scoffed.

"Ain't talkin' on this no more," Mal snapped. "I gave an order."

"Frankly, Captain," Zoe said firmly. "I don't give a shit."

"We could stay as long as Serenity holds out." Kaylee piped up from her mass of blankets and Jayne. "Hold out as long as she does; when she ain't got nothin' left to give, we move to the shuttles. Can't give up on her like this, Cap," she said tearfully. "Can't."

Mal looked at the hard set face of each member of his crew, even the Shepherd and Inara, who weren't technically one of his, just paying passengers. "This a mutiny?"

"I could shoot ya if it would make ya feel more manly 'bout the whole thing?" Jayne smirked.

"It would give me something else to do while I wait for River to wake up." Simon joked.

Mal grinned and he didn't know why. They were more than like all looking at a cold and certain death; either way they went. Stay or go, there wasn't anything but Black out there. He still couldn't bring himself to wipe the shit-eating grin off his face. "Well then, since ya'll are an insolent lot, any ideas on making it a bit longer?"

"Could close off the vents," Riddick suggested. "Move everybody up to the mess and bridge levels, seal off the below decks. Doc, it safe to move her?" Riddick asked.

"She's been stable long enough for me to remove the tube. We'll have to monitor her closely, keep a mask on her, but the rest of the equipment can run off their own batteries." Simon said, already moving to prep the equipment.

"Take everything you need, Doc. Once we seal the decks, there won't be no comin' back down." Riddick added as he moved to start fastening River to the stretcher.

"I might be able to boost the signal some more." Wash said thinking it over, "If I kill everything left running in the decks we seal up, just might be able to boost it by another fifteen percent maybe?"

"We got ten of us and eight EVA suits, but we got back up oh-two tanks by the shit load, can rig 'em to use as breathers sos we're not using up all the air that's left."

"Might even be able to take that old carbon filter I got in the scrap closet and turn it into a scrubber." Kaylee offered.

"It's gonna get cold." Book pointed out. "There's a crate of military issue thermal blankets in the hold if I'm not mistaken."

"We've got thermal packs in the first aid kit." Zoe added. "Ain't much but it will keep your toes from fallin' off in your boots."

"I have a portable heater in my shuttle; it runs off of battery power." Inara offered.

"Well then." Mal's grin faltered into a mock scowl. "Got work to do. What the hell are ya still sittin' around for?" The crew responded with varying snorts, scowls, chuckles, and even a slight smirk or two as they filed out; a new sense of purpose fueling them. "Jayne," Mal called him back.

"What?" He asked impatiently. "Got to scrounge up the tubing for the regulators."

"I just wanna ask, why?" He never thought he'd see a day where he wouldn't have to keep an eye over his shoulder and on Jayne.

"'Cause I want to keep breathin?" The merc answered skeptically, he really wasn't sure what Mal was asking.

"Not that. There was a time you woulda shot me if it meant savin' your skin. Now, I ain't complain'," he added quickly as Jayne grimaced. "But I just gotta know Jayne, what changed? Three months ago, you woulda been shovin' crew outta the way to get to one of those shuttles."

Jayne shifted uncomfortably. He wasn't entirely sure himself and he gave his captain the best answer he could. "Sometimes when a man's made to look into his own eyes, he sees somethin' he don't like."

"That boy, Canton, it really got to you, didn't it?" Mal asked seriously.

"Jayne! These tanks ain't gonna move themselves!" Kaylee's voice echoed down the hold.

He gave Mal a kind of shrug with a half-smirk. "And sometimes a skirt crawls under your skin and makes ya wanna be somethin' better." He turned and headed out to the bay. "Stop wastin' air by yellin' gorraamit, woman!" He snapped.

Mal watched his merc head out and slowly shook his head, part disbelief and part something he just didn't have a name for.

*T*F*C*

"You gotta Plan B, sir?" Zoe asked as she gifted her captain with an I-told-you-so eyebrow.

"I'm workin' on it." He gritted out from the side of his mouth as he tossed down his six-shooter and raised his hands. "Now, boys, I thought we were going to be reasonable about this?" He asked the three men who were currently holding himself and Zoe at gunpoint.

"You hear that, reason? He's gonna talk to us about bein' reasonable now." The leader, Marco, a particular stump of a man with blackened teeth and an accent Mal couldn't quite place, scoffed.

"Yeah, that's a joke." A much taller and, quite frankly more, intimidating man spat from the corner of his mouth which wasn't holding a cigar.

"Which one you figure tracked us?" Mal whispered to Zoe.

"The ugly one, sir." Zoe replied as she glared at the cigar smoker.

Mal's eyes darted over the three men. "Could you be more specific?"

"Do we look reasonable to you?" Marco asked.

"Well, looks can be deceiving." Mal remarked conversationally, though he guessed it was a rhetorical question really.

"Not as deceiving as a... low down dirty... deceiver." Cigar smoker growled around his mouthpiece.

Mal found him a bit less intimidating after such a remark."Well said." Mal nodded. "Wasn't that well said, Zoe?"

"There was a kind of poetry to it, sir." She agreed, however the sincerity was lost in her glare.

"You want I should shoot 'em now, Marco?" Cigar smoker asked, and his status on Mal's intimidation scale went right back up.

"Wait 'til they tell us where they put the stuff." Marco grunted.

"That's a good idea." The gun grinned darkly. "Tell us where the stuff's at so's I can shoot ya." And he went right back down again.

Mal raised his left hand just a bit higher, "Point of interest. Offerin' to shoot us might not work so well as an incentive as you might imagine."He shrugged. "Anyway, we've hidden it. So, you kill us, you'll never find it."

"Found you easy enough." Cigar gloated with a smug tick of the head.

"Yeah, you did, didn't you?" The wheels began to turn in Mal's head. "How much they payin' you?"

Cigar looked confused. "Huh?"

"I mean, let's say you did kill us, or didn't, there could be torture, whatever." Mal shrugged again. "But somehow, you found the goods. What would your cut be?"

"Seven percent straight off the top." The merc answered confidently, though his gun lowered ever so slightly. Now they were talking money; he could talk money.

"Seven?" Mal raised his eyebrows. "Huh."

"What?" He snapped.

"Hmm? Nothin'." Mal shrugged. "Not a thing, no I just" He turned to his first mate, "Does that seem low to you?"

"It does, sir." She answered with a quick sweep of her eyes over the men.

"That ain't low!" Cigar snapped defensively.

"Stop it!" Marco yelled.

"Seven percent, that's standard." Cigar affirmed.

"It is?" Mal laughed. "Okay. Zoe, I'm payin' you too much."

"Why? What she get?"

"Knock it off!" Marco barked.

"Look, forget I said anything." Mal gave a little dismissive wave of his already raised hands."I'm sure you're treated very well." He shrugged. "Got the perks and all. Your own bunk, I'm sure." Cigar blinked a little. "No?" Mal asked indignantly. Cigar's face twitched slightly. "You have to share a bunk?"

"With that one." Cigar's eyes slid to the third member of the gang who hadn't spoken yet at all. Mal could sympathize with the slight grimace he caught.

"Really?" Mal chuckled a little.

"Jayne, this ain't funny," Marco warned.

"Yeah, I ain't laughin'." The merc growled.

Mal had him and he moved in to finish the deal. "You move on over to this side, not only will I show you where the stuff is, but I'll see to it you get your fair share. Not no sad seven." He ended with a smirk.

"Private room?" Jayne asked.

"Jayne!" Marco barked; disbelief warring with anxiety on his features.

"Your own room, full run of the kitchen, the whole shot." Mal went on.

"Jayne! I ain't askin'" Marco's bark was cut off this time by the sound of a bullet as Jayne shot him in the leg without taking his eyes off his new perspective captain.

"Shut up." Jayne grunted and had his gun on the other man on his crew before the man could spit. "Don't even try it, Jim." He growled out and, after tossing his cigar on the ground, asked, "How big a room?"