Donna yelped and hit the floor just in time, as a large mallet flew through the air and slammed into a pillar behind where she'd been. The Doctor had been banging on the TARDIS console with it a minute ago, but had lost his grip as the machine took a particularly wild swoop. Over the past several months, Donna had gotten used to bumpy rides, but this was something different-something wrong. The Doctor wasn't in control. As far as he'd been able to figure out, the TARDIS was flying itself.

Or, as he'd put it, flying herself. Donna still wasn't sure why he said it that way.

"What are we going to do?" she yelled over the chaos.

"Just hang on tight to something! Once we land I'll try to sort things out," he called back. The TARDIS made another sickening lurch, flinging Donna into the pillar, and she wrapped herself around it, closing her eyes and waiting for it to be over. This had been happening too often lately…

...

Mal Reynolds ran down the stairs to the cargo bay two at a time, letting himself almost relax for the first time in days. They'd just pulled off a good job, the Alliance was leaving them alone for a change-even Jayne was behaving himself. Maybe they'd get a few days without anything going wrong.

Or maybe not. Because Mal wasn't sure what that flashing, grinding thing was, smack in the middle of his cargo bay, but he figured that "something going wrong" wasn't far from the top possibility. He jogged around to the comms panel. "Zoe, Jayne, get down here. We got some unusual activity."

When he turned back around, though, the flashing and grinding had stopped. Instead, there was some kind of blue wooden crate in the middle of the floor that he'd never seen in his life. Judging by the way Zoe's and Jayne's pounding footsteps on the stairs stopped abruptly, they were as surprised as him.

At around this point, Mal noticed the crate had a door, because it swung inward and a couple of people stepped out. The man was tall and lanky, with a long brown coat and a shock of hair that hadn't seen a comb in awhile. Could have passed for a normal traveler, if it weren't for the suit underneath that coat practically screaming "Core planet". The woman with him was harder to pin down to one class of people, but she had red hair that almost hurt to look at. They both looked banged up, like they'd been in a fight, and they were looking around sort of dazed like they didn't know how they got there.

That didn't stop Mal from cocking a gun in the man's face.

The man jumped back, his hands in the air. "Whoa! Hello! So we're doing guns, yes, no need to shoot us, we're just passing through." He had a sharp accent reminiscent of Badger's, like someone off Dyton.

"Yeah, passing through busting into our cargo bay on your way to getting spaced," Jayne muttered.

The stranger glanced over at Jayne and seemed to file him away for reference. "No, no, that really won't be necessary. If you'll just let us, er, go back into our box, we'll be on our way, no trouble at all."

The red-headed woman caught his arm. "Um, Doctor, are you forgetting the bit where the TARDIS isn't flying?"

"No, Donna, I'm trying to keep them from blowing our heads off till I figure out a plan," the man-a doctor?-said through his teeth.

Mal tightened his grip on the gun. "I don't know where you two think you are or how you got in here, but I would take it as a kindness if you would explain yourselves before I prematurely decide you're a threat."

"Captain, what exactly is this?" Zoe's voice came from behind him.

"S'what I'm trying to find out."

The one called a doctor attempted a conciliatory grin. Mal wasn't amused. "So what is this, some experimental Alliance thing? Didn't know the Core planets started having colony folks do their dirty work for 'em."

"Alliance...Alliance...oh, no! No! We're definitely not with any kind of government-we're just...traveling. Yes, traveling."

"Not going anywhere in particular, mind you," the woman added.

"Right, just...sort of popped in by mistake." The grin again.

"Still doesn't explain why there's a big blue crate in the middle of my boat that wasn't there a couple minutes ago," Mal said evenly.

More pounding footsteps on the stairs behind him. "Captain, we got a situation," Wash called. "Hey, whoa, what is that thing?"

"Now ain't the time, Wash," Mal said.

"Um, no, it kind of is, Mal." Wash was sounding more stressed than usual.

Mal took the risk of turning around; Zoe and Jayne had the strangers

covered. "Tell me quick."

Wash was pale and a fine sheen of sweat shone on his upper lip. "Reavers."

...

Donna was used by now to that weird feeling you got in the TARDIS, like time was off somewhere else and had left you in a different space. And she'd got used to the different feeling of stepping out and being in a completely different time than the one you left, which was always a little disorienting. But this was something completely different, leaving her with no sense of where they were. For some reason, a man was pointing a gun at them and seemed to think they were breaking in. (Which, all right, maybe they were a bit, but the Doctor had always talked them out of it before.) And now this man in a too-bright shirt was saying something about Reavers, and everyone had frozen like their nightmares had come to life.

Normally, that wouldn't bother Donna, because saving people from their nightmares-come-to-life was what the Doctor did best, but if he was having trouble calming down these people with guns, would he not be able to save them either?

The one who seemed like he was in charge-Mal, they'd called him-didn't stay frozen long. "Are they coming after us, or just waiting around?"

"Heading in our direction, but I don't think they've spotted us. They'll be able to pick us up any minute now, though."

"Motherless goat of all motherless goats." Donna wanted to laugh but didn't. "Wash, get back to the bridge, try to get us out of here 'stead of hanging around like sitting meat. Do it quiet like, though, no need to pick up trouble if there's no need. Jayne, Zoe, start arming the crew-no, Zoe, you take care of these two. Get 'em locked up in one of the empty rooms, then come get ready to defend the ship. We don't go down without a fight, got that?"

"What's going on, what are Reavers?" Donna hated how panicked she sounded, but she couldn't help it. Nothing was the way it should be. The TARDIS had gone wrong and everyone was barking mad and now there were things coming.

The big stubbly one that had wanted to "space" them gave a short, sharp laugh. "Where you been that you don't know about Reavers? Even on the Core planets they can't be that dumb."

"We'll figure that out later if we survive," the woman called Zoe said. She grabbed Donna by the shoulder and prodded the Doctor in the shoulder with her gun-not in a threatening way necessarily, but in a move-it-right-now sort of way. The Doctor jerked away and moved a few steps off, hands still raised.

"No, hang on, tell me what's going on and I can help. I promise."

The commotion had drawn more people, looking down on them from a catwalk: a woman in a silk kimono, a girl in a pink shirt and coveralls, a young man in formal clothes holding onto a girl in a flower-printed sundress, an older man with frizzy white hair pulled back behind his head.

Mal ignored the Doctor and focused on the onlookers. "Just some unexpected guests, no need to worry about them just now. We got some other trouble coming our way-Zoe, get them out of here!"

Then they were both being half-shoved, half-dragged up the stairs and past the new people, past something that looked like a sick bay, and into a small, bare cabin. Zoe tried to shut the door on them, but the Doctor blocked it with his foot. "Tell me, what are Reavers?"

Zoe's face was expressionless and her voice was hard. "Reavers are things that used to be human but aren't. They prey on any small ship they come across, and torture and kill anyone on board. If you're smart, you'll stay very, very quiet if you hear any fighting, and maybe you'll get lucky and they won't be hungry enough to come looking for you." The door slammed and Donna heard the lock click.

"Doctor," she said in what she hoped wasn't a pathetic and small voice, "please tell me you know what's going on."

"Well," he said, not looking at her and rummaging in that ridiculous coat, "we're locked in a small room on a spaceship, the TARDIS isn't cooperating, and there are bloodthirsty monsters and people with guns." He looked up, having produced the sonic screwdriver and looking ridiculously pleased with himself. "So just another day for us, right?"

Donna couldn't help it. She had to grin back a little herself. "Right. Breaking out?"

"Oh yes!"