Chapter 4: (Untitled)

O'Brian sips back some synthaholic ale.

"…so we get knocked out and their spirits. Or souls, or whatever, of the dead crew take over out bodies. And the damn things make us take over the ship."

"Um, mutiny – always wanted to try that. So, this is how you guy's lives are from day-to-day?"

"Pretty much. What about you? Gallivanting about in a ship probably twice the size of a runabout, that's gotta yield some stories," asks O'Brian.

"We got chased by cannibalistic fucktards once."

"You mean … they eat human skin?"

"Shit, they have orgasms at the thought. Probably got ketchup and mustard stored away."

"What do you do?"

"Oh, me," chews on some food just delivered by a ten-forward hostess – whom Jayne tries to pinch the ass of, but misses and continues, "I steal stuff."

"Come again?"

"I take my hands like so, place it on the goods, and give it a new home. I'm like … the Robin Hood of my time."

"But it doesn't belong to you."

"Details. Most the stuff we lift is from bad guys anyway."

"And that makes it better?"

"Well, it sure as hell don't make it wrong. You're telling me that if one of those Cardassian thingies you told me about left his money behind, you wouldn't give it to a bunch of poor Bajorin slaves?"

"That's not the point, and you're keeping it."

"Yeah, but if I were a better man, I'd start a charity of something. A large tax-deductible business."

O'Brian starts to get up in disgust, "Excuse me, I just remembered I got to go check on my wife and daughter," and leaves.

"Then I guess you won't be eatin' this!" and grabs O'Brian's plate of food.

Mal heads toward the doors to Kaylee's quarters. Before he reaches them, another set of doors open and Zoe and Wash exit.

"Zoey, Wash – I see you two finally decided to take advantage of the captain's courtesy. What changed your mind?"

"We ran out of places to have sex in on Serenity," replies Zoe.

"Okay, and that concludes out conversation. You two continue doing what ever it was you were doing."

"Yes, sir," says Zoe, who giggles a bit. They walk off.

Mal presses the doorbell to Kaylee's quarters. No answer. He sort of moves back and forth and looks around the hall, then presses it again, letting his finger linger a bit longer. He finally knocks on the door, "Kaylee, this is your captain speaking … open the hell up," and gets still no answer, "Computer, open these blasted doors."

"Authorization required for override," replies the computer.

"Well, consider yourself authorized. Now open 'em up."

"Security level clearance required."

"Dang nabbit, can't take a piss on this ship without authorization. Computer, why isn't she answering?"

"Quarters are empty."

"Well, where the hell is she then?"

Beeps, "Kaylee Fyre is not onboard the Enterprise."

Kaylee smiles as she watches Geordi work.

"Wow, you really know your stuff. So, you keep that whole ship from falling apart?"

"No, the bulkheads do that; I just make sure structural integrity doesn't fail."

"What I meant wa-"

Geordi laughs slightly, "I know what you meant. I was joking.

"Ah," fiddles around nervously.

"I still can't get this component to work," he looks it over as he holds it.

Kaylee haunches down beside Geordi, "Well, here's your problem: you've bypassed the direct link and even added this funny looking thingy."

"Well, someone removed the safety buffer; entire piece is gone. If too much power was fed through, it would overload this," and points with a hand resting on his left leg.

Kaylee bites her lower lip.

"In fact, I think this entire engine is only running at 80 efficiency. There are several modifications needed."

"You're very smart."

"Years and years of training and studying. Believe me, it wasn't an easy walk in the park. I had to give up a lot, but it was worth it. Not many people can say they've seen or done what I have."

"Name some."

"Well," while doing some fixing on the engine, "I've been to worlds no one has ever stepped foot on before, been kidnapped, escaped death, and I have the unfortunate honor of being the first person is Starfleet to ever see a Borg."

"What's that?"

"Just some very bad people," while passing a beam of light over a section.

She reaches over to help him, "You got this all wrong, here," and as she shows him, she passes one of her hands delicately over one of his.

Looks over at Kaylee, "Look, I appreciate the gesture, but I really don't know you."

"No one actually knows one another until they spend sometimes together."

"And that would be nice, but I got a duty to perform at the moment."

"Not much more needs fixin', maybe you can ask your captain for some time off?"

"Got to admire the diligence."

Slaps him on his left shoulder, "That sounded like a 'yes' to me."

Geordi laughs.

Inara enters her issued quarters. A note that had been wedged between the shut doors, falls to the ground. She looks down and sees a trail of rose peddles leading to the bed. She smiles ever so slightly and as she slowly makes her way toward the bed, she removes it's encasing envelop.

She sits on the bed and after finishing the note, places it down to then open a box on he bed. On the white box is a gold-colored tied bow. She unties it and removes the lid. From the box she pulls out a silky royal-red dress.

"I believe somebody has an admirer."

She looks to see Book standing at the doorway entrance, "shepherd, didn't hear you enter."

"Quiet entries used to be amongst my talents in my previous profession."

"Hum," looks at the dress, "if this had been from Mal, there's no way I could have accepted it."

"If it had been from Mal, there's no way he could have afforded it," quips Book.

"But from Riker, well, this can be made in mere seconds from the replicator."

"Yes, but the thought is one and the same. Now, I'm not here to lecture you on what the bible says on your coming doings, but rather I feel I need to remind you of your intensions. His are more apparent, but yours…"

"I know what I'm doing."

"What happened back there?" asks Picard.

Troi replies, "I was just sensing normal emotions onboard when suddenly I was overwhelmed with a presence; a terrified, powerfully presence."

"Simon Tam's sister?"

"Yes."

"Did she try to harm you?"

"No, but I get the feeling she could have."

"Were her intensions hostile, or was she just trying to make contact with you?"

"I feel neither is the case, but rather that she's so powerful that when she awoke and sensed my mind, she was unable to stop herself from engulfing it. She may not even know how."

"Beverly says the scans showed her to be human, yet she displays these abilities."

"I feel it's much more than that," says Troi.

"How so?"

"I believe she can actually read minds."

"A psychic?"

"Yes, but an untrained one."

"There aren't many races that posses psychic-like abilities. In fact, I believe very few of those are capable of passing the trait on to out species."

"I don't think she was born this way," says Troi.

"Beverly did inform me she found tissue scarring in the brain and on the head of River Tam. It could be she was forced into this unwillingly."

"I sense fear on her part from the men being held prisoner. I wish I could tell you more, but she seems to have shut me out somehow."

"It appears no one on their crew is who we've been led to believe they are."

Mal sits and rests in his issued quarters. He lies his head back and rests his eyes. The doorbell chimes.

Mal shouts, "Ai chi-wan ma fuckers! Come in," plops back.

The door slides open and Book walks in.

"Shepherd. Sorry about that whole dirt eating thing."

"It's all right, mixed with the proper ingredients, a little sand shake can be quite enjoyable."

"And I suppose cow shit makes for good pies," Mal throws in.

"I draw the line just after sheep testicles."

"What in the hell would you wanna eat a sheep's testicles for anyway? That poor kehoneyless bastard," points to shepherd, "God's creatures, shepherd."

"Good source of vitamin B12, but that's not why I'm here," replies Book.

"It's not so much I, Mal, but rather it is you who I feel needs to speak."

"And what makes you think that?"

"Well, that defensive shot just now seems a pretty good one," says Book.

Lifts his head up and straightens his back while facing Book, "You wanna know what's bothering me? We work damn hard everyday and all we got to show for it most days lately are empty stomachs and a low fuel tank. These people were born into a world where they didn't have to struggle and got what they wanted. When they need fuel, they don't have to do ask Niska or badger for work, they just restock. They don't even have a legal form of currency and any time they run into worlds that do, all they got to do is replicate some. Our last two jobs have been a bust."

"No one said thieving would be simple."

"Maybe not, but you tell me this shepherd: we crossed into an alternate reality – in their 'verse there's no Alliance, there's no Reavers, they got peace and prosperity, yet out 'verse has been one cosmic joke. We're treated like the red-headed stepchild of dimensions while they get all the gold. How come that has to be?"

"Maybe the universe is nothing more than a scale that starts out even. Each time you take from one and give to the other, things are unbalanced. Something has to happen in return."

"You tell me this: when's it gonna be our turn to take?!"

"I'm sure a day will come soon enough. You can load only so much goodness on either side. Just as things get better for us, things will get worse for them."

"Yeah, I'm sure they're gonna brake out into war any year now, shepherd."

"Perhaps you should be thankful for hat you got."

"No coin and the Alliance breathing down our necks?"

"I was thinking more along the lines of your health."

"Health won't matter jack squat if we all starve to death, shepherd. Or maybe your maker is just really keen in meeting us all sooner than later.

It's not right."

"They say the grass is always greener on the other side of the fence."

"Yeah, but these people can replicate their grass."

"Did you ever think about not transversing the stars, but instead plowing the land. Settling down on a distant planet where the Alliance won't come for quite some time."

"No good. We'll put all that hard effort and sweat into it and about ten years later the Alliance will have spread to us and annex the planet. We'd have to go too far out. That's no way to live."

"Stealing is not the answer, one day we'll be too old and too tired. What then?"

"You know, asked me that two days ago and I've had said not much, but now … I say we stay here. Give me one good reason why not."

"Captain."

"Yes, Data."

"The rift appears to be closing in on itself."

"How long until closure?"

"I estimate approximately eight hours until the opening has sealed itself."

Picard turns to Riker, "And now that hard part, number one. Do we let these people stay here."

"Have they asked for asylum?" asks Riker.

"Their captain has expressed the desire to stay, but … should I let known criminals into our reality?"

"I believe people can change," comments Riker.

"These people lead a terrible, harsh existence in theirs'. I think the better question is: can we knowingly let them go back to that?" asks Troi.

Picard thinks for a second then says, "It occurs to me these are not warp-capable people; would allowing them to stay violate the Prime directive?"

"Already did that when we brought them onboard and allowed them computer access," replies Riker.

"Throw one piece of trash on the ground, not get caught and do it again – no, I think we can't so easily shrug off out responsibilities."

Worf ads, "They do not have warp, but they are a space-faring people. Does that not count?"

"Their vessel is obviously capable of faster-than-light travel, but…" Picard trails off.

"Captain, I believe I can solve this dilemma; each reality has its own variance in properties. Their genetic structure is out of place with ours. I believe the close proximity to the rift is the only thing holding them here."

"So … if the rift closes?" asks Troi.

Data replies, after spinning around to look directly at her, "They will dissipate from reality."

Riker looks at the floor, and Picard just stares out at the view screen.