Notes: Almost done with this story, I think. Two or three more chapters coming; I never thought it would end up this long! Thanks for hanging around to watch it develop! Also, on Karanina's comments on the blood and brain-dead business: even if his heart has stopped pumping, if he's being lifted from the ground to the table by three different people I figured his blood is going to slosh around a bit. Had to throw in some gore there. And a human can go six minutes without oxygen to the brain… so… if you stretch your imagination a little, it all works out… more or less. I worked my way through college as a paramedic; I've seen far stranger things.:) And again, thanks so much for all the comments!
Translations:
Mei-mei – little sister
Hwoon dahn – bastards
Wuh de ma – mother of G-d
Mal was leaning against the repaired railing of the catwalk in the cargo bay. Wash and Kaylee had done a right nice job of gluing poor Serenity back together. It was almost as good as before… or as crappy as before, depending on your point of view.
Mal rechecked his weapon as he waited. They had taken the coordinates from Kyle and had been following River for weeks, but Wash had promised that today they would reach their destination. Mal thought Jayne would have complained about having to go fetch the doctor's mei-mei, but he was unusually quiet – even for Jayne.
Even now the mercenary sat hulking silently in the back of the stored mule, his legs dangling motionlessly. The only movement came from his trigger finger, which ominously tapped in staccato against Vera's barrel. His normally barbaric face was pulled into a frown so vicious that Mal looked away… and was met by a much more pleasant sight.
"Kaylee's nervous," Inara commented smoothly as she glided across the catwalk towards the captain, her red skirts swishing against her legs.
"Me, too. I had to change my pants twice already," Mal answered, infinitely rewarded by the slight raising of a dark eyebrow.
"Remind me not to sit next to you on the way over."
Malcolm stepped back in shock. "Oh, hell no, woman," he began. "Ain't no way I'm having any prettified harlot taking up space on a job!"
Inara's face remained impassive, but Mal could see her eyes flinch at his words.
"This isn't a job, Mal. River's crew. She's part of this family you've surrounded yourself with."
"Whatever."
"And you don't call family 'harlots'. Why is it that you can care so deeply about everyone on this ship, but you force yourself to despise me?"
She turned in hurt and irritation and walked back to her shuttle, hoping Kaylee would leave the doctor alone for a minute to come visit. She needed friendly company.
Mal sighed regretfully as he watched her retreat.
"Ain't your family," muttered a stony voice from below.
"What?" Mal shot a confused glance down at Jayne.
"Little girl ain't yours. 'Nara's, neither," he continued territorially.
"I know," Mal replied distractedly as he began the humbling walk to Inara's shuttle to make peace. She still wasn't coming along, though.
Jayne ground his teeth. He was annoyed – whole crew becoming all mushy over his girl. She was his own: his wife, his River. He didn't like them getting in the way - it wasn't a gorram fieldtrip! He desperately wanted to be the one to find her, not silly Kaylee or smarmy Simon. They'd haul her off, pet her, and medicate her.
They'd take her away from him.
Jayne bristled at the thought of everyone's hands on her, welcoming her back. If he found her first, there was no way anyone was going to take her away again. Have to pry her out of his cold, dead arms. He nodded to himself at this resolution, and began his tapping once again.
"Hey, guys, you'd better come check this out." Wash's voice echoed through the ship's intercom an hour later.
Jayne arrived almost immediately, and he stared out the cockpit in shock. There was a ship, or a space station, he wasn't sure which. It consisted of three jet-black, concentric rings that were spinning lazily around each other.
"What the hell is that?" Mal asked as he and Inara stepped through the narrow doorway.
"It's a space station. But there doesn't seem to be much activity. All the ships are docked, there's barely any atmosphere left. And, oh, lovely…"
"What now?" Mal muttered as the rest of the crew entered.
"There's a funky energy signal coming from the engine core."
"And that means…?"
Kaylee joined in as she peered at the control panel over Wash's shoulder. "Someone's rigged the engines. They're leaking. That whole station will explode by the time the last of the hydrogen isotopes leak out."
"Why would the Alliance blow up their own station?" Simon asked.
Jayne snorted nastily as he crossed his arms against his chest. "Don't be an idiot. Your sister did that."
"Why would she do that?"
Jayne clenched his teeth and responded heatedly: "Because she didn't think I… didn't think we would come after her."
And he stomped out of the room.
Mal grimaced. "How long we got?"
Wash and Kaylee glanced at each other.
"Two hours?"
"Nah, three at least. Look at the rate of flow."
"Well, sure, but don't forget to take the plasma disruption into account."
"But what about the iridium sealings?"
"They run independently."
"Oh, yeah."
Mal sighed in annoyance.
Kaylee and Wash looked up and announced in unison: "Two hours."
Wash, Jayne, Zoë, and Mal seated themselves in the shuttle to plan the rescue.
"Okay, now, most of the power's down on the station," Wash began.
"Wait, how are we going to get aboard?" Mal asked.
"Easy as pie!" Kaylee chirped as she popped into the shuttle.
"Don't recall inviting you along, missy."
"Come on, Captain. I'll wait on the shuttle while ya'll do your shooting thing. Besides, you need me! Look what I made!"
She held out a cardboard box full of mismatched motherboards and various components.
"See, this little one…" she proudly lifted out a dark green hexagon with an assortment of wires hanging out the back, "will pop open one of the docking bays. But only one. And it will only stay open for thirty seconds. And it will lock once we're inside."
Mal scowled. "Well, now. Don't sound like much of a plan, Kaylee."
"And yet, it's still better than yours," she sassed. "Besides, I got this other one; it'll destroy the door to the docking bay once we've got River back."
"Destroy? That sounds a touch… violent."
"Oh, we'll be fine. As long as we're inside the shuttle. And if the hydrogen leak has been contained within the engine room."
"It'd better be, or this is a futile mission," Wash commented. "Not even our brilliant lunatic can breathe in an atmo full of hydrogen isotopes."
"Don't be morbid," Kaylee hushed.
Jayne scowled venomously at Wash, who took no notice.
"All right. Sounds like a plan. Zoë, do we have enough ammo?" Mal asked. "Don't know how many folk are going to be there to welcome us. This could be a short trip."
"You're a bunch of girls," Jayne scoffed. "Stay here. I'll do it myself."
"I don't think mowing down hundreds of Alliance is going to be possible all on your lonesome."
"Wanna bet?" Jayne sneered evilly.
His challenge was interrupted by Simon, who stumbled onto the shuttle carrying a huge leather bag full of his medical instruments.
"Planning a cruise?" Mal asked.
"No. She's my sister, Captain. We have no idea what condition she's in. You need a doctor."
"I don't know. Might be better if you waited for us here," Zoë suggested.
"It is his mei-mei," Mal decided. "All right, you can come, but you've got to stay in the shuttle with Kaylee."
"Of course," he nodded his assent.
"Ain't anybody gonna ask me what I think?" Jayne spoke up in annoyance.
"No!" they responded.
Jayne frowned from his seat and planted his large boot on Simon's chest and shoved him back out the shuttle door.
"Too bad. There's too many damn people. Acting like it's a rutting picnic."
Simon marched back in indignantly, wiping off the size 12 footprint from his vest. Jayne booted him out again, a little harder this time.
"They'll get in the way, Mal. I'll do it myself."
Simon again returned. "I do NOT appreciate your attitude! You cannot dismiss me…"
Jayne casually pinned him against the wall with his foot. "Shut your trap," he scolded.
"Jayne, don't be an ass." Mal cracked the butt of his rifle on Jayne's shin, releasing Simon. "We're all going. End of discussion. Now… let's hurry up and leave before Inara figures it out," he added sheepishly.
Simon smiled smugly at Jayne and headed towards the nearest chair, but was thwarted when Jayne slung his feet up onto the seat and snarled at him.
Mal sighed. "Children."
Wash shut the doors and the shuttle began its tense flight over to the space station. Everyone was hushed as they stared at the three massive rings circling around a center spherical section where the fusion power was generated. The station was enormous.
Jayne's heart sunk. How could they get past all the soldiers that were sure to be on board and find his girl in just two hours?
"Okay," Wash breathed as he brought the shuttle alongside the nearest docking bay hangar. "You're up, Kaylee."
Kaylee crawled over Zoë and Simon to suit up. In order to get her contraption to work, she'd have to spacewalk out to the docking bay doors and manually attach and program the device.
The crew watched nervously as Kaylee floated out, bouncing lightly against the black hulk before grabbing a hold of a slight protrusion in the metal.
"How's it going, Kaylee?" Mal asked. He was tense. If Kaylee had told him she needed to space over to attach the box, he never would have agreed to her plan. He didn't want to imagine the guilt he'd feel if anything happened to their little Kaylee.
"S'okay, Captain. Almost got it." Her tinny voice piped through the comm system. "All right. It's done! I'm coming back." She pushed off from the now rumbling section of steel.
Only once she was back inside did Malcolm let out his breath. "Good work, Kaylee."
"Thanks! Now, hurry up. We've only got a few seconds, remember?"
"Already on it," Wash said, taking the tiny shuttle into the gaping maw of the space station.
The bay was full of Alliance shuttles and attack fighters, but, surprisingly, they met with no resistance. The entire hangar was completely empty of people.
"Where is everybody?" Wash asked.
"It's a big place. Can't be everywhere at once…" Simon offered hesitantly.
Jayne had a bad feeling about this. He tightened his jaw and rechecked Vera. The minute the shuttle touched down and the bay doors closed, Jayne bolted out of the shuttle brandishing his weapon and praying that something would move so he could kill it.
"Jayne!" Mal hissed in irritation. "Get your gorram ass back here! You'll get your rutting head popped off."
Jayne looked around the room one more time before responding. "There's no one here. Where the hell are they hiding?!" he shouted in frustration and panic.
"You're a might tense, there, aren't you?" Zoë asked gently, knowing full well why he was so irritable.
Jayne took the unspoken warning and responded with: "Just eager to kill something."
After telling Wash, Kaylee and Simon not to leave the shuttle, Zoë, Mal, and Jayne began to fan out around the room, searching for any form of life. They carefully checked each of the eight ships, but they were all empty.
The three regrouped by the arched door that led to the rest of the station. Jayne and Zoë pressed back against either side of the door, weapons ready. Mal apprehensively pushed the button to open the door. All three sprung through the doorway, scanning the brightly-lit corridor that curved off far into the distance.
There were no troops. It was empty.
They lowered their guns warily while Zoë walked up to a console on the wall. She pressed a few buttons, wrinkling her forehead in confusion before turning to Mal.
"According to the comp, there are 753 soldiers, doctors, and assorted crew on the ship."
"Well, where are they?" Mal asked.
"Wait, doctors?" Jayne asked in dread. "What is this place?"
Zoë went back to the screen. "This is the Alliance station Waknuk, a medical research facility."
Jayne's face darkened, his look becoming murderous. "Where are the hwoon dahn, Zoë?"
It took her a minute to find the right information. "Wuh de ma, this can't be right," she mumbled, a horrible feeling growing in the pit of her stomach.
"What's up?" Mal joined her at the console.
"Sir, all of the crew are in the mess hall."
"What? Everyone? That can't be right."
"That's what I just said, Sir."
"Which way?" Jayne asked.
"What?"
"Which way's the mess hall?"
"We got to go in a level," Zoë responded. "Transporter is down the hall."
Jayne took off.
Mal gave Zoë a look, then followed after. They entered the transporter, waiting anxiously as the cabin moved them from the outer to the center ring. The doors slid open with a menacing hiss.
The atmosphere in this ring was much thinner. Red lights flashed along the walls of the corridor - a silent alarm.
Zoë led the way. The map had said the mess was the third door on the left. Cautiously, they crept along the wall until Zoë signaled that they'd arrived. She paused for a moment, listening.
Silence.
She nodded to Mal and Jayne, then slowly placed her hand on the panel by the door.
It opened halfway, then stuck.
Zoë peered around the door into the room. It was dark, but she could just make out what was blocking the door: a large boot.
Grimacing, she kicked it out of the way and the door opened suddenly, revealing all 753 crewmembers, all armed to the teeth, and all dead.