Firefly is the property of Joss Whedon and his new secret masters, blah blah blah. You know the drill.

Thanks to Guildsister and Apollo for beta reading. Feedback will of course be appreciated.

For those who have been waiting, I apologize for taking so long. I had a real bad case of writer's block.

For those not up on their Civil War history, the Hunley was a submarine employed by the Confederacy. As would be expected of an early submarine, the thing was a deathtrap. It was propelled by a hand-cranked screw and its armament consisted of an explosive charge on the end of pole affixed to the front of the craft. While you may think it sounds kind of stupid, it was sucessfully used in sinking the USS Housatonic. Alas, the Hunley also got caught in the explosion and went down as well.

Concerning the bits of verse, the first one is from the end of "Ol' Cowpoke" by Gary McMahon while the latter is the modified chorus of "Biscuit Blues" by Bob Nolan.

Previous works:

We Have the Technology

The Poseidon Misadventure

Guess Who's Coming to Donner: Chapter 1

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

After having spent what seemed like an eternity in the more God forsaken regions of the Rim, Serenity had arrived at the relative civilization of Beaumonde. Inara was particularly pleased that she would now be able to find work of her own. Since landing a few hours ago, her schedule had become booked for the week. In fact, she was just about to depart to attend a Unification Day festivity with the prefect's son.

"Okay Inara," Wash stated over the shuttle's radio. "You're clear to go in five, four, three..."

"Wash," Mal's voice interrupted, "has anyone left the boat?"

"Not yet," Wash responded. "Inara was about to go off to some shindig."

"Tell her she'll have to cancel. As soon as Zoe, Jayne, and me are back on board, we'll be leaving Beaumonde immediately."

"Why not tell her yourself?" Inara hissed icily. "What is the meaning of this, Mal?"

"Ran into a peck of trouble," Mal replied. "Figured we should make ourselves scarce before we get I.D.ed and Serenity gets landlocked." And with that, he cut her off.

Inara was furious to say the least. Having her schedule disrupted like this was absolutely intolerable. At the very least, her standing within the Guild would be adversely affected. Inara contemplated the words she would have with Mal as soon as he got back on board.

* * * * *

Bustin' bottles and flyin' lead They broke a porch of furniture over my head I had quite a time last night, from what I hear But the mornin' comes and the sun's gettin' brighter I'm sneakin' across the prairie like a spider I hope the sheriff ain't takin' the trail that I'm makin' The fact of wherever it is

* * * * *

The next morning, Wash got up well before anyone else and grabbed some protein and instant coffee from the galley before creeping off to the bridge. The confrontation between Mal and Inara the previous evening had been an unpleasant affair which was sure to continue through breakfast. That wasn't something Wash's digestion could take first thing in the morning, especially with their current fare. Thanks to Serenity's abrupt departure, there hadn't been time to restock the galley, leaving them with nothing but protein until they made another stop.

Wash flipped on the Cortex terminal and found a Wave waiting for him. As he read its contents, he cursed a blue streak. Before everyone's evening got disrupted, Wash had been planning to indulge in his guilty pleasure of opera, a dark secret not even Zoe knew about. Now he was being informed by the management of the Trapezium Theatre that his ticket for Hansel and Gretel and Ted and Alice would not be refunded.

As he heard footsteps head toward the galley, Wash decided some music would help to improve his mood. Going through his Riders in the Black sound files, he selected Protein Blues as it was so appropriate. He even sang along to the chorus when it came.

Protein for breakfast, protein for dinner, Protein for supper, too Have a protein dream most every night Ohhhhhh, I've got the protein blues

Wash's fun was interrupted when multiple voices yelled at him to bi zuie and informed him of the consequenses of failing to comply. As he sullenly hummed along instead, the Cortex terminal gave off a beep indicating the arrival of a Wave. Glancing at it, he saw it was for Zoe and that it required handprint verification. Wash knew of only one person who sent those sort of Waves, and they hadn't heard from her in two years.

* * * * *

"Honey! Auntie sent a Wave!"

Zoe left for the bridge, welcoming the respite. The last time Zoe had felt so uncomfortable had been back in Basic during the required viewing of the STD training film Saving Ryan's Privates. And the central reason for the animosity was really quite stupid, at least what she could remember. The pounding headache she had made it difficult to recall the details. Discomfort had converted to aggravation and the urge to resolve the matter in a violent fashion had been strong, even though it could technically have been called mutiny.

Zoe placed her palm against the touch screen and wondered what Aunt Vicky had to say. Likely she was going to recount her own U-Day exploits. So when the text message appeared on the screen, Zoe received a bit of a shock.

I regret to inform you that your aunt Victoria Warren has recently passed away. The cause of death is unknown, as at the time we were in an isolated area with no access to medical help. Even if there had been some available, it is doubtful she would have accepted it.

According to the instructions she left me, her share of our current operation, which potentially offers considerable profit, goes to you. I'm not at liberty to discuss the nature of this operation nor reveal my current location in a Wave. The will she wrote is currently held at the law offices of Sheridan and Hooker in the city of Wasatch on Cronus. From there, you will receive further instructions on how to reach me.

Timothy Donner

* * * * *

"Can't say I care for it," Mal said once Zoe finished outlining the contents of the Wave to everyone in the galley. "All we have is this Donner's word that he's ever worked with Aunt Vicky. You ever recall her mentioning him?"

"No sir," Zoe replied. "Of course, we ain't heard from her in a long time. She might have met him fairly recent-like."

"Would it be too much to ask who this Aunt Vicky is?" interrupted Simon.

"She's my dad's older sister," Zoe answered. "She was too old for frontline combat during the War, so she ran Alliance blockades on her ship the Hunley instead. In fact, she was one of the few runners who avoided getting hers impounded."

"Didn't care for signing up as crew for her after the War though," Mal added. "Crazy woman's a gorram control freak. Anyone working for the old paranoid had to quadruple-check every detail before she was even remotely satisfied. Not the sort of life I'd want to lead."

"Yeah, it's more fun to be a paranoid control freak with your own ship ," Wash quipped.

Mal aimed an icy glare at Wash for his smartass crack. "She was also kind of funny about doctors. One of the field medics had some fancy ten platinum word for it I can't recall."

"Iatrophobia sir," Zoe offered.

"Anyway, my point is that she's a difficult person to work for. She mostly worked by her lonesome. Unless this Donner fellow could do something she couldn't, I have a hard time believing anyone would join her in what sounds like a long term venture." Even as he said this, Mal contemplated their current predicament. Thanks to their U-Day shenanigans, they wouldn't be able to show their faces on Beaumonde for the foreseeable future. But then, how was he suppose to have known the obnoxious little puke was the prefect's son. With no cargo and no destination, they didn't have much in the way in options. They could of course go to Triumph and hire themselves to work on Sally Callahan's house. But that was something only for when they were humped beyond hope. Mal found the idea of taking contradictory orders from a madwoman unappealing, even if the money was good. As visions of Serenity mortgaged to the hilt with triple digit interest rates danced through his aching head, he added, "Still, it wouldn't hurt to check it out. Even if it doesn't pan out, we can try to make some new contacts. I don't suppose anyone here has been to Cronus before."

"I was there before the War broke out," Book offered. "Wasatch is the largest settlement. It was quite a lawless place then, with most everything controlled by the various rival Triads. I imagine the only difference nowadays would be if there are any Alliance officials present, they'd be in the pockets of the Triads."

Mal refrained from commenting on what a preacher would be doing in such a planet. It certainly sounded like the sort of place Aunt Vicky might frequent. "Alright, but we ain't going in blind. Zoe, I want you to send Waves to everyone you can think of who might have met Aunt Vicky recently asking about her. Wash, get us pointed to Cronus."

Mal followed Wash to the bridge, where he was poring over some charts. "I can get us to Cronus in a week. However, that's barring any disasters and assumes we don't make any stops."

Mal contemplated the current galley situation, as they didn't even have any canned food to offer some variety. "Do it. I think our stomachs can manage."

Wash groaned quietly. "Okay. Would you mind shutting the door when you leave?"

Mal shrugged and left, closing the door most of the way. As he headed down the corridor, he heard something come from the bridge which made him wonder if his ears were working properly.

"Good day, opera lovers, and welcome once again to Opera on the Rim. This is your host Milton Stitch. Today, we are at Old Man Curwen's barn on Whitefall to witness a performance of Mozart's Don Giovanni."

Mal stood there stunned. He was all too familiar with Wash's fondness for musical comedies. But could he really be into something as highfaluting as opera?

"Nah!"

* * * * *

Elijah Hooker was feeling particularly morose as he read a brief concerning his most recent case. It was times like these which made him wonder why he bothered. Virtually every judge in Wasatch was on the payroll of at least one Triad, making trials little more than show. Many times he had considered moving to Persephone or really any world where the law wasn't a complete farce. But each time, his partner Sheridan would go on about the expense of space travel and how the Alliance red tape for setting up a new law practice was such a bitch. Under such an onslaught, his resolve would fade.

Hooker looked up as the door opened and a man's voice said, "I'm telling you Zoe, that guy had a lot of nerve to get all snippy just because I offered to pay the docking fee with an I.O.U." Two people stepped inside. One was a tall, sandy-haired man with piercing blue eyes. But it was the woman who caused Hooker to shudder. Though much younger, the resemblance to Victoria Warren was unmistakable.

The woman walked up to Hooker's desk and stated, "My name is Zoe Warren. My aunt Victoria recently passed away and I'm given to understand you're holding her will."

That was quick, thought Hooker. Not too surprising though, as the harridan had looked to be on her last legs when he met her. "Very well. Follow me." Hooker led them to the back of his office where he kept a safe with a biometric lock. Placing his palm against the reader then removing his glasses so his retinals could be taken, Hooker then indicated to the woman to do the same.

Once the lock confirmed the woman's identity, the door of the safe opened, revealing the will and an envelope containing instructions for Hooker. Placing the will on his desk, he explained, "As you can see, the terms of the will are quite simple. You are the sole beneficiary of all of Victoria Warren's business ventures and property. The only specific exception concerns her ship the Hunley, which she insists on having scrapped."

"Scrap a Virginia-class transport?" the man muttered. "The old bat really was fong luh."

As the twosome examined the will further, Hooker opened the envelope. From it, he removed a piece of paper with the war banner of the Independents and what looked to be a unit insignia embossed on it. While reading the instructions, he heard Warren comment, "Well sir, that confirms what Monty said in his Wave. I'd recognize that sorry excuse for a signature anywhere."

Hooker's ulcer burned at the memory. The witnesses for the drafting of the will had consisted of the sort of underworld degenerates who made up much of the population of Wasatch. It had taken all of his self-control at the time to keep from protesting the mockery of legal proceeding. That and the fact they'd been bigger and better armed than he had been.

Warren then looked up and said, "This will mentions a Timothy Donner as the executor. Would you happen to know where we can find him?"

"Not personally," Hooker replied. Then handing over the paper, he continued, "However, according to this, you can find that out from Louis Nathaniel Kent. He's an independent courier better known as Eagle Eye Louie. The address is written here. Just give it to him so he knows it's you."

The man who had accompanied Warren shook Hooker's hand and said, "Thank you kindly for your help. Guess we'll be going now."

Once they had left, Hooker switched on his Cortex terminal. While composing a Wave for Kent informing him that Warren was coming, he stewed over the recent events. The whole affair had been an insult to his integrity. Hooker decided then and there he wasn't going to take it anymore. Once the Wave was sent, he started looking up ship departures for Persephone. Bringing genuine law and order to Cronus was a lost cause, and Hooker was through with the futility.

* * * * *

"So Wash, have you found out anything about our man Donner?" Mal asked over the radio as he and Zoe entered the seedy apartment building where Eagle Eye Louie lived.

"Not much," Wash replied. "Only found one item in the public records. Apparently, the Alliance had set up shop here about six months before the War ended. Not long thereafter, Donner got caught hacking into the Conscription Board's database. Even taking into account he was a minor at the time, he got a light sentence. Could be he got some legal assistance from a Triad on the lookout for new talent."

"Any better luck asking about on the streets?"

"Not really. Only useful thing we've learned is a little over three months ago, he disappeared without a trace. If anyone we've talked to knows where he's gone, they ain't talking."

"Well, looks like we'll be finding out shortly. Get everyone back on the ship and have her ready to launch in case this Donner is off-world."

Mal and Zoe climbed the rickety stairs until they reached Eagle Eye Louie's apartment and knocked. The door was opened by the most unremarkable man Mal had ever seen, completely devoid of distinctive features. Except for the eyes, which were pale and unfocused.

"You Zoe Warren?" he asked. In response, Zoe handed him the paper. He rubbed his thumb over the embossment, then gestured for them to come in. He went over to and turned on what looked like a Cortex terminal, except it had no screen. "A week ago, I received a Wave containing an audio file and a print-only file. The former tells me to give the latter to a Zoe Warren." Handing them a fresh printout, he added, "All that's to assure you I ain't got a clue about what it says."

Mal and Zoe looked at the printout and saw it contained a series of numbers which looked to be spatial co-ordinates. Zoe then asked, "We hear tell Donner disappeared rather sudden-like a few months ago. You wouldn't happen to be able to enlighten us on that."

"Don't know and don't care," Eagle Eye Louie responded.

From the way he said it, Mal got the impression he wasn't being entirely truthful. "Son, I think it would be in the interest of your good health to give us a straight answer."

"I make it my business not to know things," Eagle Eye Louie countered. "The Triads like that sort of trait in a courier. The Triads also don't take kindly to folks who mess up their status quo. So it's in the interest of your good health to leave and be happy with what you've got."

Mal was tempted to rough him up anyway, but was stayed by the man's confidence. It was the confidence of someone who knew that, whatever was dished out on him, the perpetrators would have it dished back ten fold. Realizing the brief satisfaction from making the twerp's face more distinctive wasn't worth pissing off near every potential client, he said, "Let's head back to the boat, Zoe," and vacated the premises.

* * * * *

Donner was going over the status reports for the driller bots when the Wave arrived. He opened it even though he was certain of the contents. As he suspected, it informed him that Eagle Eye Louie had given the co-ordinates to Warren's niece. Donner had started to wonder if she'd ever come. He wasn't sure how long it had been since Warren's death. It was so easy to lose track of time when you were alone in the Black.

An alarm went off indicating Donner wouldn't be alone much longer. The surveillance camera confirmed they had returned in the Hunley. This time they used the concealed docking area which had been finished shortly after they had first come. Donner turned his attention to his terminal and downloaded a modified version of the A.I. to a memory tab.

Once he got down to the loading area, Donner found they were just finishing up with transferring supplies from the Hunley. He blinked, as much of the loot was unusual, particularly the real food. Probably they had hit a pleasure yacht belonging to a Triad higher-up. None of the Triads on Cronus had the resources to mount a significant search effort, so he wasn't worried about being discovered. Still, he hoped they would use greater discretion in picking future targets.

Noticing the Captain beckoning, Donner came over and stated, "Got some good news. I have some suckers with a ship coming here. Likely it won't have the same quirks which make the Hunley a pain in the pee goo to fly. Not sure how many'll be coming, so I reckon we should take them down in a sneaky fashion." Handing over a piece of paper along with the memory tab, he continued, "Here's the co-ordinates they'll be arriving at. Once they're there, send the contents of this tab through their Cortex receiver. It has their node and everything."

The Captain gave a nasty grin and indicated to Donner to follow her into the Hunley. He did so, guessing she wanted him to renew the circumventing of the hardwired settings before they had a chance to reset.

Donner received a start when he entered the cargo bay and saw Warren's corpse hanging from the ceiling. While the relatively sterile environment of the ship had prevented significant decay, it still wasn't a pretty sight. As he was led to the bridge, Donner noticed similar forms of redecorating throughout the ship.

Once on the bridge, Donner got right to work. This time, there was no shotgun aimed at his head. He was grateful for that since it meant one less distraction. Not only did he feel an unpleasant burning sensation on his skin, but there was a faint whispering which he couldn't quite make out.

Once finished, Donner exited the Hunley. Shortly thereafter, it detached from the airlock and presumably left for the rendezvous point. It took Donner a bit longer to notice he wasn't alone. He turned and saw it was the first mate, a withered old man who was as ugly as a Companion was beautiful. Though Donner had gotten used to the others, the first mate made him uneasy.

"Why are you still here?" Donner asked, trying to keep his voice calm. As a response, the first mate merely grinned and pointed to the stack of supplies. Donner's stomach churned as it struck him what was being implied. Of course they would be put through the Trial. By necessity, it would have to be far more subtle than Donner's had been. The whole idea actually didn't bother him in the least. So why did he have the urge to vomit?

* * * * *

"Come on," Mal muttered as he and Zoe strained to keep an unexpectedly berserk River pinned down. "Be a good girl and take your dried frog pills or whatever the hell they- Ow! The little pofu bit me!"

The momentary loosening of Mal's grip was enough for River to break free and sock Zoe in the eye. She then took the opportunity to lunge for a scalpel. Alarmed, Mal tackled her and slammed her against the infirmary floor a bit harder than he would have normally liked. As Simon injected her with a sedative, she shrieked, "Ph'nglui mglu'nafh wgah-nagl fhtagn! Iä! Iä!"

Once River was out, Mal turned to the doctor and asked, "Don't suppose you have any idea what set her off?"

Shaking his head in frustration, Simon replied, "As far as I can tell, it came completely out of the blue." He was clearly rattled by his sister's bizarre rant. Even Zoe looked a bit unnerved, though the only reason Mal could tell was because he had known her for so long. It was strange, but he thought maybe he had heard those words somewhere else.

Before Mal could put his finger on it, his thoughts were interrupted by Wash's voice on the intercom. "Mal, we're almost there." Deciding to think on it later, Mal hurried up to the bridge with Zoe close behind.

"Anyone else there?" Mal asked as he entered the bridge.

"Hard to say," Wash responded. "There's a lot of microdebris in the area mucking up the scope. No wait, I've got something. Should be able to see it." Through the canopy, they observed a ship slip behind an asteroid. "Looks like a-"

"Virginia-class transport," Zoe finished. "Reckon it's the Hunley, sir?"

"Be a hell of a coincidence if it weren't," Mal mused. "Wash, give them a buzz."

As Wash attempted to contact the ship and was greeted with static, Mal's ears caught a faint muttering. "Did you say something Zoe?"

An ever so brief blink was all that indicated her surprise at the unexpected question. "No sir."

It was then that the console began making noises which screamed they were humped. "Tah mah de!" cried Wash. "Looks like they transmitted a virus of some kind through our Cortex receiver. It's locked out manual flight control and appears to be taking us on a prearranged course."

* * * * *

Onward to Chapter 3

* * * * *

Chinese Translations

Bi zuie: Shut up

Fong luh: Crazy

Pee goo: Rear end

Pofu: Bitch

Tah mah de: Mother fucker