prompt: rain
On some planets they have these fancy weather-controlling systems where if they think it hasn't been sunny enough, they do some hocus-pocus stuff. The next day, there ain't a cloud in the sky.
It don't seem right.
He grew up on a mudhole of a planet in the back of nowhere and, sure, he wouldn't've minded too much if someone had done that once in a while. There's something that's just not right about messing with the weather like that. He mentioned it in passing once, like it was no big deal. Like it only just crossed his mind as he ate his lunch and wasn't something he worried on from time to time.
The doc went into some long spiel about weather patterns and erratic something or other. Jayne tuned him out around the fifth word as a habit, keeping his brain humming along just to pick up on any complaints about himself or something he might let slip about his sister that he might maybe be able to use for leverage. Book had seemed to enjoy the conversation, though.
Kaylee was the only one to ever mention it again, about six or seven months later. She came at him with that soft, sad look on her face, like he'd just ruined one of her pretty dresses or messed up all her spanners.
"Do you really think people who live on those weather-controlled planets are doin' something bad? Like they're messin' with something they shouldn't?" she asked. He watched her pick at the paint on her nails and tried to figure out why the hell she cared enough to ask.
"I don't know. I guess not," he lied.