ALONG CAME A ZHI ZHU by BlueHandTwoByTwo (LarryL)

Chapter ONE

Serenity’s cargo hold was full. Row upon row of boxes and crates lined the deck from one wall to the other, some stacked nearly ten feet high. Different sizes, different shapes, each with their identi-tags softly glowing in the darkness: “glass”; “fragile”; “heavy”; “perishable”. It was moving day. Some wealthy land baron was relocating his estate from one outer rim moon to another and needed a cheap transport. Of course he could afford a more expensive moving company, he was quick to explain, but most of his money was either tied up in escrow for the new place or still in transfer between Universal Banks. That was his excuse anyway but Captain Malcolm Reynolds was no moron. He suspected it was because most -if not damn near all- of the man’s possessions were probably stolen. Didn’t want to go through proper channels because he’d have to itemize his cargo for insurance purposes with a legitimate moving company. Malcolm didn’t care. A job was a job. The money still spent the same. As a rule, he never asked what he was carrying when somebody contracted him for a job. This served several purposes: first, it created plausible deniability; the less he knew, the better. Especially if he ended up getting pinched by an Alliance ship. Secondly, it guaranteed anonymity for his customers. Everybody from the lowliest of prairie scoundrels to the highest of World Court Royalty could travel on his ship and shuttle their cargo without having the watchful eye of law or politics monitoring their every move. And lastly, he just didn’t give a rat’s ass. He’d learned a valuable lesson long ago: life was far less complicated when you kept your nose out of other people’s business.

Malcolm finished his hourly check on the cargo hold, marked a clipboard, and turned to head back to the bridge when a large, round globo-ball slammed into the railing next to his elbow and bounced back into the cargo hold behind him. He jumped, a string of Chinese curse words flooding from his mouth, and turned to see Jayne scampering about across the floor below him.

“Sorry bout that, Captain,” Jayne apologized, jumping up to grab the ball with both hands.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Mal asked angrily.

“Playin ball, what’s it look like I’m doing?” Jayne turned his back to the captain and leapt into the air, tossing the ball through a dangling metal hoop. It flew through the goal, and landed atop a wooden crate with a loud clang before once again bouncing off into the darkness. Jayne ran after it.

“I don’t want you running around in here when we got a full hold like this.”

Jayne emerged from a row of crates holding the globo-ball in his arms and breathing heavily. His shirt was stained with sweat. “Come on, Mal. I was just playin ball.”

“I especially don’t want you in here playing ball. You’ll just have to wait until we unload. We should reach our destination in a couple more days.” Jayne sighed his frustration. “A couple more days makes it a week. You know I get cabin fever. Playin ball is the only thing that keeps me from going crazy sometimes.”

“You see all those boxes behind you? I’m responsible for them. I assured our customer that they would be unloaded in exactly the same condition as when they were first brought on and I mean to keep my word. You start running and jumping and bouncing a ball in here and something expensive is going to end up broken.”

“Then take it out of my paycheck.”

Malcolm shook his head. “I don’t pay you enough. Besides, I’m sure you can find other things to play with when you get the notion to expend some energy.” That was his final word on the matter and he turned to head back to the bridge.

Jayne gritted his teeth and suppressed the urge to yell back at the captain. “GORRAM IT!” he shouted and volleyed the globo-ball into the darkness of the hold with the force of a cannon shot. The ball struck a precariously-balanced crate in the far end of the room and knocked it to the floor but Jayne didn’t hear the crash. He was too angry with the captain, cursing at him under his breath as he stormed back to his room.

The force of the fall knocked the crate’s lid open. After a long moment, movement; something inside the box shuffled in the darkness, something alive. Outside, affixed to the crate, the identi-tag was quietly flashing the words: “Danger! Danger!”

*** *** *** “How we doin’?” Mal asked Wash, the ship’s navigator, as he strolled confidently onto the bridge. He ducked underneath a low-hanging tangle of coupling wires (gotta get Kaylee up here to fix that, he told himself) and then stood behind Wash’s chair to gaze out ahead into the starry blackness of deep space.

“Well,” Wash started, tapping pensively at a gage on the instrument board in front of him, “We’re burning more fuel than usual but we’re getting there.” “Yeah, the old girl’s not used to carrying this much weight in her belly. Bound to slow us down a little bit.”

“Not that I’m worried or anything, but…okay, maybe I’m a little worried. You did remember to fill the emergency tanks before we left, right?”

“I didn’t fill the tanks. I asked you to do it. You didn’t fill the tanks?”

Wash jerked around in his seat to face Mal, brows furrowed in escalating concern. “When did you ask me to fill the tanks?”

“Right before Zoe and I left to pick up those boxes Shephard ordered. Are you telling me you forgot?” Anger in his voice now, its pitch rising until the hairs on the back of Wash’s neck were standing at attention. “(Chinese curse)! Do you have any idea how much danger your negligence puts us in? If we don’t start dumping cargo right now and losing some of this drag, we’re never going to make!”

Wash began to sweat underneath his clothes. He nervously raked a hand through his blonde curls, voice trembling as he spoke. “Captain, you never asked me to---”

Mal suddenly burst out laughing. “Relax, I’m kidding. We’ve got two full reserves.”

Wash blinked a couple times as the words sank in, then sat back heavily into his seat and released a pent up breath. He stewed for a moment while the Captain enjoyed a hearty laugh at his expense. Then his bruised ego rushed to defend itself. “You didn’t get me.”

“Oh yes, I did,” Mal snickered.

“No, you didn’t.” Wash could be quite stubborn.

But then again, so could the captain. “Yes, I did.”

Wash steadfastly shook his head, avoiding eye contact with Mal by staring through the windows. “Sir, I beg to differ.”

Just then, Zoe, Wash’s wife, entered the bridge behind Mal. “Don’t beg, honey. That only works with me, remember?”

“Don’t you start in on me too,” Wash turned in his seat, vigorously wagging his finger in the air at her. “I don’t need the both of you ganging up on me right now, thank you very much.”

“What’s he begging for?” Zoe asked Mal with a mischievous grin on her face. She wanted in on the fun whatever it was.

“He’s trying to deny the indisputable fact that I just got him good.”

Wash angrily began flipping switches on the board. “No, I’m not and no, you didn’t.”

Zoe turned to her husband. “Sweety, you’re gullible. Face it, he just got you good.”

Wash stared back at her; unblinking, his voice calm. “I’m very close to snapping right now, ok? So you two might want to clear the bridge before I go totally insane and start ripping things apart with my bare hands!” This was just "play anger" of course. Zoe knew this and so did Mal. Whenever Wash was genuinely embarrassed or hurt or even if he was really angry at you, the only way he knew how to express it was through humor. Most people had a hard time telling the difference between his play anger and his real one and so no one knew when to take him serious. Such was the insufferable curse of the adult class clown.

That reminded Mal of something he needed to do. “Speaking of ripping things apart, I need to check in on Kaylee and see how she’s coming along with those booster belts.” Mal turned and patted Zoe’s shoulder on his way out. “If he starts destroying my bridge, you have permission to dope him.”

Zoe grinned and winked. “Will do, Sir.” She watched the Captain leave then turned back to her husband and lovingly rested her hands on his shoulders. “Don’t worry, I wouldn’t give you the full dose.” She leaned down and kissed his cheek. “Just enough to make you all sweet and docile. The way I like you.”

Wash was unresponsive to her tenderness. Instead, he grumbled under his breath: “I am not gullible.”

Zoe pulled away from him, adopted a defensive stance as she crossed her arms. “Yes, you are.”

*** *** ***

“Captain, can I have a word with you?” Inara asked as Mal passed the entrance to her shuttle. There was an urgent tone in her voice.

“Whatever it is, I didn’t do it,” Mal said with a grin as he ducked into her room.

Inara wasn’t amused. “Then who did?”

Mal did a double-take and scratched his head. “Okay, wait a minute. I’m lost. Who did what?”

Inara snatched a small, wooden box from off the nightstand next to her and shoved it into Mal’s chest. “They’re gone! Every single one of them!”

Mal took an uneasy step back. When a woman was upset, it was always good to give her a wide berth. “What’s gone? What are you talking about?”

“The Dekkas my last client gave to me! They’re missing and I want to know what you’re going to do about it!”

Mal had never seen Inara so upset before but what disturbed him even more was this uncharacteristically aggressive manner she was exhibiting. “Okay, the first thing you need to do is calm down…”

“Calm down?” Inara tossed the box across the room. Mal jumped as it crashed into the wall next to him with a loud, metal clang. “Do you have any idea how much those Dekkas are worth? No, you probably don’t because people like you don’t normally have access to precious jewels unless you’re stealing them!”

Now she’d crossed the line. “Whoa, stop right there. I don’t like your tone of voice, I don’t like your insinuation about my character, but most of all, I really don’t like being called a thief, even though I am, but that’s beside the point. I don’t like being called one when I’m not being one. And lastly, you know as well as I that no one on this ship would come in here and steal from you. Well, there is one, but Jayne has more…I mean, he wouldn’t have the…okay, I’ll talk to Jayne.”

“That’s not enough, Captain,” Inara insisted. “When we touch down, I want him bound by law.”

“Now wait a minute. Let’s not be rash here. We don’t even know if he took them.”

“Clearly I’m not going to get any help from you,” she said, icily. “I guess your outlaw code of silence is stronger than the respect I thought you had for me.”

Mal took a step toward her and she quickly backed away from him. Her crossed arms were a solid barrier meant to keep him out. “Inara, what’s going on? I’ve never seen you like this and frankly, you’re scaring me.”

She ignored him. “Fair warning, Captain. If those Dekkas don’t turn up, I’m holding you financially responsible. And believe me, they’re worth far more than you could ever repay. Even if you sell your ship.”

The words were as unexpected and surprising as a drunken man’s bar room sucker-punch. “I’m not selling Serenity.”

“That’s for the courts to decide.” She turned her back to him and pressed the control panel to shut the hatch. Before it hissed shut in his face, she said to him, “But if it gets to that point, you won’t have any say in the matter.”

Mal stood in his place, staring open-mouthed at the closed steel hatch. What the hell had just happened? It was completely unlike Inara to make threats like that. It almost felt as though he were talking to somebody else, as if Jayne or Book had snuck up on her and turned her switch from “warm and cuddly” to “cold and aggressive” as some kind of joke. Why the hell was she acting like this? Why would she suddenly turn on him?

The answer, of course, would reveal itself several hours later but by then, lost Dekkas and upset Companions would be the least of his worries. By then, all Mal would be concerned about was preventing Kaylee from crushing his windpipe with an oily, metal wrench!

(to be continued)