Kaylee’s Lament

Part Eleven

“Well, wasn’t that a fun stop-over?” Simon asked sarcastically, as the ride out of Set’s turbulent atmo smoothed out. He and much of the rest of the crew were seated in the lounge, some strapped in against a bumpy ride. “A couple of fights, a shooting, a stabbing, a murder trial, and the undying enmity of a ruthless gang of cut-throat pirates,” he complained. “I can see the tourist posters now, ‘Onyx, land of enchantment! Scenic wreckage, frigid weather, and colorful natives!’.” “The noodles were good,” Book commented. “Ah! Yes, ‘famous noodles’. Or how about, ‘You came for the noodles – you’ll stay for the death threats’?” “They were really good noodles,” River said. “You can’t entirely complain. You did get some decent shopping,” pointed out Inara. “That coat is scrumptious. Plus the hat and the matching slippers? And for about half what you would have paid for it in the Core.” “Ah, yes, the wonderful Francois the Tailor, a la Magnifique, who seems to do his best work when Jayne has a gun pointed at his head.” “He was messin’ with my business,” Jayne growled. “I don’t let no one but me and my women do that.” “And I’m certain that he was as reluctant to join that exclusive club as most of your women,” Simon said with disgust. “He was measuring your inseam, you moronic ape.” “Just sayin’,” the mercenary grunted, shrugging. “Attention Travelers, everyone can unstrap,” came Wash’s voice over the intercom. “We’ve cleared atmo, and we’re setting course for the picturesque middle of nowhere!” “How long until we get to our destination?” Book asked. “’Bout half a day, near as I can figger,” Jayne said as he unfastened his safety strap. “’’Course, they don’t care to consult me ‘bout that sorta thing.” “That doesn’t leave much time,” Simon said, sighing and rubbing his eyes. “Probably should get to work on my part. Have to make it look convincing.” He left, headed towards his quarters, sparing one last ugly look for Jayne. “That boy needs a good ass-kickin’,” Jayne said, once he’d left. “I mean, he done saved our lives and all, so I don’t want him really hurt, but a healthy dose o’ boot-in-the-ass would do him a world o’ good. Never met me a whinier sonofabitch in my whole life.” “That ain’t what he needs,” Zoe said, slyly. “Prayer, perhaps?” Book said, smiling. “Not what I was thinkin’, no.” “No one ever wants to pray ‘till they’re in trouble,” grumbled Book good naturedly. “But first sign o’ imminent death and it’s kneepads for everyone.” “Prayer will not help my brother,” River said, matter-of-factly. “Zoe means he needs sex.” “Huh,” Jayne laughed. “Talk to the engineer, then, ‘cause I ain’t about to—” “Talk to me about what?” Kaylee asked as she came forward out of the engine room. She had a smear of grease on one cheek, and her hair was tucked haphazardly under a blue bandana. She had had a full three days, getting the salvaged equipment removed from the scrapyards and stowed properly on Serenity. “Jayne’s got some problem with the plumbing in his room,” Book explained. “But I think he can handle it himself.” “Good, ‘cause I’m about three kinds of beat,” the engineer said as she collapsed onto a couch. “Ohh, but I got me a warm and happy feelin’! Serenity never had this kind o’ spare parts since I came aboard! She could handle just ‘bout anything you ask of her, now. Have to do some maintenance, o’course. Swap out a few systems. Probably when we get there. Should have a few hours o’ down time.” “Don’t you ever rest?” Book asked, concerned. “This ain’t work, Shepherd,” Kaylee protested with a smile. She reached back and caressed the cold steel bulkhead like it was the chin of a cat. “This is my girl. I take care o’ her.” “And we’re all glad you do,” soothed Zoe. “We just don’t want to wear you out, Kayleebug.” “Certainly not,” contributed Inara. “I think that once we get to that lull after Phase Three, you should take a day off and have a nice soak, a splendid meal, and relax.” “I’d be happy with three solid days o’ sleep,” yawned Kaylee. “You deserve it,” agreed Zoe. “Wash told me how hard you worked out there. Lucky you didn’t get frostbite.” “Helps to have a warm and sunny disposition,” Book smiled. “Okay,” Kaylee said, looking up at them. “It’s gettin’ a little thick in here, ain’t it? I’m gonna go lay down, read for a might, and then collapse. You know where I live if you need me.” She rose and made her way down the front corridor. “Well, I guess she’s too tired to take care o’ doctor fancy pants,” laughed Jayne, stretching out himself. “I’m gonna catch a few z’s my own self. Don’t pay to get into a space suit sleepy.” “I think I need some tea,” Inara said. “Join me?” “I’m in,” Book said. “Tea would be superior to not having tea,” River said. “I think I’ll go get in hubby’s way,” Zoe declared. “If I don’t do that every now and again, he thinks I’m mad at him. Last thing I need right now is a relationship discussion.” As if summoned, Wash’s voice once again came over the intercom: “Captain to the bridge. Everyone else, stay frosty. We have a fan club.” “Oh, go se!” Zoe swore, and headed for the bridge. “Raincheck on that tea?” Inara said, disappointed. “Don’t see why,” Book replied. “Might be our last chance.” “Tea is good,” River added. “I like tea.”

*

*

* Kaylee had just gotten to the bottom of the bunk ladder when the alert came. Despite her exhaustion, she didn’t hesitate or even sigh heavily. She reversed course up the ladder and went back to the engine room at a dead run. If they were being pursued, she needed to be where she could keep Serenity’s engines under care. Wash was like to strain her all sorts of ways, and as solid as the little ship was, she sometimes needed Kaylee to hold the more fragile bits together. The moment that she entered the engine room she watched the spin of the rotor, and put her ear up to the casing and closed her eyes. By the feel of the vibrations and sounds alone she could tell what was happening better than carefully inspecting a hundred gauges. She knew how her girl was supposed to sound – and right now she sounded about as good as Kaylee could ask for. No whines, no screeches, no irregular rhythms, just the hum of a happy engine, the glow of a hot drive. She was already running at full burn, as hard as she could go. Kaylee made a few adjustments that would help her burn a little cleaner, but there was little else she could do to aid their flight. Unless . . . She cursed herself for forgetting. Then she grabbed the intercom. “Jayne – get to my bunk, bring me the three books on the bed, ma-shong!” She could hear an answering grunt through the ship. She went back to glance at the controls and started putting her hair up in a ponytail. *

*

*

Wash was a very busy pilot. He was checking three different screens at once while keeping the ship on course. Mal stomped in a moment later, followed by Zoe. “Oh, good, wifey came to watch me work,” he quipped, not looking over his shoulder. Mal ignored it. “What’s the issue?” “Transponder says it’s a long-range transport shuttle,” Wash explained, “but telemetry says it’s too big for a shuttle by about three orders of magnitude.” “And this concerns us, how?” “It seems to be following us. Or maybe it’s just my cologne.” “It’s not. The pirates?” Zoe asked. “Well, Judge Roy did say that as long as we were in Onyx, we were under his protection. We ain’t in Onyx anymore. I’d say it’s likely.” Mal said, checking out the telemetry monitor. He looked up at Wash. “What they flyin’?” “If I had to guess . . .” “That’s what I pay you for,” reminded Mal. “We’re getting’ paid? Hear that, honey? We’re getting’ paid!” “Your guess?” Mal said evenly. “I’d say it’s a modified assault cutter, an old Alliance planetary defense job, about sixty years old and as tough as old leather. See that high heat signature?” he asked, tapping the dirty glass over the monitor. “That’s the modified part: looks just like a Ryoki engine signature, which means deep space, which means they got more legs for their mass than we do.” “You sure?” “I’m sure. I could be wrong, but I ain’t unsure.” “Good to know. How long ‘till they catch us?” “We got maybe ten minutes. Unless they have boosters, then we have considerably less. Shall I sound battle stations?” Wash sounded calm. Mal looked a little confused. “We don’t have battle stations.” “Then may I suggest an addendum to the next crew training session? Going to battle stations would feel kinda nice, about now. Bring me a real sense of security.” “Wash, we ain’t got weapons,” Zoe reminded him in a voice mothers reserved for three year olds. “This I know,” he said. “I’m thinking we reconsider that someday.” “And attract Alliance attention?” Mal asked. “To avoid this kind of problem might be worth a little more Alliance attention,” Wash argued. “Just lose them,” Mal ordered. “Uh, Captain Tushie? We can’t loose them. They got speed out the ass.” “They don’t have maneuverability. Use that,” Mal suggested. “Uh, how do I do that?” “How the hell should I know? I’m not a pilot!” “Oh, I guess that means all of our lives are now in my capable and incredibly handsome hands?” “That’s about the size of it,” agreed Mal. “Don’t tian xiz shou you de ren dou gai si.” “I think it would be an excellent time, then, to discuss a raise,” Wash said, conversationally. “Maybe an increase in benefits?” “If we’re all alive in an hour, we can talk about it,” Mal agreed. “I think I have a stronger bargaining position at the moment,” Wash countered. “I think you should shut up and fly the ship, dear,” Zoe suggested. “Yes, sugar tush,” Wash said in a servile tone. Mal reached up and grabbed the intercom mike. “This is your Captain. The Red Rock Tong seems to be holding a grudge. We’re gonna try to lose them. Battle stations!” He looked down at Zoe and gave a wink. “Feel better?” he asked Mal. “Loads,” Wash said, some stress starting to creep into his voice as he noticed the heat signature flaring. “Oops. They got boosters.”

*

*

*

Jayne stumbled into the engine room with his arm full of books. It was probably the most books Jayne had carried in ten straight years. Kaylee grabbed them all and quickly sorted out the Pear Blossom’s Engineering Manual. “You’re welcome,” Jayne said, irked at her abruptness. Kneeling cross-legged on the deck, she leafed through it quickly until she got to the section on acceleration and velocity. Being an important aspect of the Firefly class, it was a lengthy section. It was also covered in notes – cheats, short-cuts, work-arounds, bypasses, all sorts of methods and marginalia for getting a Firefly to do what she wasn’t truly designed to do – but could really do, and their written testament was the proof of it. Kaylee’s eyes sped across the page, looking for a reference. She had skimmed the section before – last night, even – but hadn’t yet had time to explore it in depth. She did remember being impressed by the novelty of some of the suggestions – more alchemy than engineering, she thought, and some that were just plain jing zi. Not all of them were applicable, as they used or referenced equipment that Serenity no longer had, or had upgraded, but there were still plenty of tricks in this hat she could use. It was a big hat. She found what she was looking for under CONDENSORS, TIMING OF: a neatly scrawled paragraph on a work around that would temporarily but dramatically increase speed – but at a cost. It was comparatively simple and wouldn’t take much time. Kaylee grabbed the intercom. “Wash, you need speed?” “Like a duck needs . . . uh, needs . . . aw, screw it yes, Yes, YES, all you got and all you can borrow!” “Can you wait ten minutes?” She asked, clenching her jaw and scrunching up one eye as she waited for the answer. Jayne was starting to look worried. “If I got to! Just let me know when you can do it! Ma-shong!” “I don’t know how long it will last, but it will boost the fei hua out of us. But we might burn out the condensers. So, when you’re ready to go, you point us in the right direction! I can probably get us back up and running pretty quick, but we should like to be headin’ towards where were going to, or pretty near. Dong fa?” “Dang ran!” She dropped the mike. “Jayne, got a mission for you.” “Tell me,” he said. Technical jargon was lost on him. Jayne was a man of action. Mission, he understood. “Go forward to the port stairwell locker – the one with the big diagonal scratch – and pull the two big ass wires out of the connection above it. Got it? They plug into two black clips. Unhook them. Pull them up and around, each one to a shuttle airlock. Just keep pulling, there’s plenty of slack in the system. Dong fa?” “Uh, Port stairwell locker, two big ass clips, pull ‘em out to the shuttleports,” he recited. “Good boy, go,” she said, kissing his forehead and returning to her tool kit. She spared just half a moment to sigh as a fluttery sensation began to build in her tummy. There was magic to be done. *

*

*

“Wash, why is that pirate getting closer to my spaceship?” Mal asked nervously as he watched the monitor. “I’m sure it’s the pretty paint job. Now sit down, shut up and let me drive!” Wash flicked three quick switches on his right, then whirled to get better position on the stick. “Kaylee says she can get us a boost, but it’s gonna be ten long miserable minutes. So I gotta keep us alive for that long, at least, and I can’t do that doin’ what were doin’ now. SO, so, sososo I have to . . . improvise,” he said, throwing the ship hard to port and puling back on the stick. The change of direction slowed how quickly the Red Rock Tong ship was gaining – but it was still gaining. “Well, that didn’t work,” he said, nervously. “Honey, quit screwing around and do something brilliant,” Zoe said sweetly. “Will something kinda stupid work?” “I trust your judgment.” “Great! I married an idiot,” he said, looking around at his controls. He spotted something, and shook his head. “OK, dear, something stupid, comin’ up!” He banked hard to starboard and pushed down hard on the stick. Then he leveled out and headed for a navigation point. From this distance it faintly shimmered like a cloud in front of them. “Hey,” Mal said, noticing it. “What’s that?” “Somethin’ stupid,” replied Wash. “Oh.” There were a few more tense moments as the shimmering cloud began to take form. Wash continued evasive maneuvers, altering course to take advantage of Serenity’s maneuverability over the cutter. Each maneuver slowed up the pursuer just a hair – but only just. Mal started as he stared at the shimmers, finally realizing what it was. “You’re flying us into a debris field.” “Yep!” “The ruins of Axis.” “Yep!” “That’s a lot of junk and metal and scrap.” “Yep!” “And it’s probably radioactive.” “You betcha!” “Wow. That is stupid.” He looked at Zoe, who looked back at him, worried. “Yep! “ Wash said, happily. “Hey, it’s what the lady ordered. Don’t like it, talk to her!” Wash wasn’t looking at either of them. He was Flying The Ship. “Just checking.” Mal tried to relax. Whatever happened, it was out of his hands.

*

*

* Kaylee was very quickly rewiring the timing element of the port condenser, having just finished the starboard condenser. She worked fast, and efficiently, her nimble fingers never faltering as she plied her screwdriver and her wire snips. She also kept a running monolog with Serenity while she did so. “Sweetie, I know this is a little unorthodox, but the nice book says that it will work. I think it will work to, so please try to understand I’m not bein’ disrespectful, ‘cause I’m not. I’m just trying to keep the gorram pirates at bay, and so I need to play a little trick. OK? Nothing major, nothing permanent, I just need to hook the condenser relays from the shuttles into your timing element, OK? Just for a little while, and then I promise I’ll put it all back the way it used to be, and even give you some maintenance for desert. That’s my good girl,” she said, replacing the access cover. She sat up and picked up the intercom. “Jayne, how’s it comin’?” she asked in an anxious voice. “It’s gorram coming, OK?” she heard through the ship, rather than over the intercom. “I ain’t really an engineer, y’know!” “You’re pullin’ cable! It ain’t rocket science! Move your ass, boy!” she called out after him, wearing a selfish grin for just a moment. If this, for whatever reason, killed them all, she wouldn’t have to face the repercussions of treating him that way. If it didn’t, well, that was a small price to pay for being alive. She consulted the book again, then nearly ripped off one of the control panels to the engine. She had to make connections from here to here, and here to here. All very simple. She grabbed her screwdriver and got to work. “There’s my girl, my good, good girl. Just a little fiddlin’ here, a little re-route, and that’s all! Nothin’ else, I promise. Nothin’ I haven’t done before to power other stuff, this time, we’re just gonna give you a little more kick, OK girl? Think how much fun it’ll be to run that fast! Don’t come apart on me, now, ‘cause there is no way I can get in and do some really good prevention if you leave me floatin’, you know that. So get ready, sweetie, ‘cause here,” she said, making the last connection, “it,”she said, rising to her feet, “comes!” she said, running down the corridor towards Inara’s shuttle.

*

*

*

Wash slapped the proximity alarm override, then slapped it again thirty seconds later as yet another twisted girder or blasted-out panel came too close. Wash wasn’t worried about most of the debris – he wanted it close. It would take something pretty darn big to puncture the hull, and he was able to steer (mostly) around that stuff. The larger cutter was having a harder time. Wash was counting on a few key facts to get him through this and buy Kaylee the time she needed to pull a rabbit out of somewhere unlikely. The first was Serenity’s agility. She could turn a lot sharper than the skiff, in less time, and at more acute angles – if you didn’t mind straining the gravity drive a little and shaking up the passengers. That made the debris more of a hazard to the cutter. Though faster, using her boosters in this cloud of shrapnel would be suicide. Secondly, there was Serenity’s smaller size. She could get through tighter spaces and between obstacles in ways the pirate could never dream of. And while her size made her more vulnerable to debris the cutter could safely ignore, Wash was counting on his superior piloting to deal with that. And third was the radioactivity. It was bound to mess up sensors, telemetry, navigation, communication, all that stuff. When the Alliance took out Axis, it hadn’t wasted the good stuff on it. Instead of one big bomb, it used four small ten-kiloton devices. The result was a lot more debris than a big bomb would have left, in larger pieces, all with a healthy glow about it. All the tiny particles of water and air and metal and people that had once been on the station were now thoroughly irradiated, which often interfered with little EM-based chores such as weapons lock. If you couldn’t lock a weapon on a target that was changing trajectories all the time, it wasn’t worth firing. Of course, there were hazards, as well. Like running into something big enough or hard enough to breech the hull. Wash tried not to dwell on that unpleasant possibility. If it happened, there was little he could do about it – he wouldn’t even know what hit them before he was dead. He juked and turned and spun past hundred-meter chunks of twisted girder and through pebble-sized fragments of glass, around debris clusters the size of Core-world buildings, everything spinning in its own happy trajectory until Serenity came roaring through, followed by the cutter. This was the kind of flying that Wash lived for. Most of the time his job was pretty uneventful, merely setting course and sitting back. Atmo almost made up for the boredom of most rides, as it took a little bit of skill to successfully punch through even a thin atmosphere and land in one happy piece. But even that was hardly a challenge. This sphincter-clenching joyride, now that was a challenge. It was pure flying. Looking out the viewport and finding a path through the complicated math of a 0-gee ballet without figuring it out carefully in advance. Direct control flight, they called it in flight school, and not a bad name for it. For those crucial moments he felt as if his spinal column was hooked directly into Serenity’s controls, for every thought he had about their course was made manifest by the ship without, it seemed, the benefit of going through the rest of his body. As the space gravel rained on the viewport and the occasional thump of debris hit the hull, he could feel every scrap of space as it curved around Serenity. He was in the zone where the pilot and the ship become indistinguishable to each other. It was a transcendent, holy moment for the normally jocular pilot. If there was one thing in the ‘verse he knew he was supposed to do, and knew how to do it was to fly. There was no real doubt, no insecurity here. This was his place, and he owned it. “You sure you know what you’re doing?” “Bi zuie, Captain!” he said sweetly, through clenched teeth.. “Sorry! Touchy . . .” “It’s just that . . . I’m making . . . some crazy turns . . . and that gou tsao de cutter . . . is keeping up!” As he spoke his hands were flying over the controls, manually controlling maneuvering jets and messing with the navigational systems. “Hold on to something,” Wash said after a glance at another monitor. “I think they’re gonna throw a tantrum!” “What?” “My guess? Missiles, if they got ‘em. Too erratic to hit with a laser without a lock . . . too jumpy to hit with a mag-grapple . . . but with missiles, like horseshoes . . . you get points . . . for coming close!” The moment he said ‘close’, there was a detonation not too far away from Serenity. “We’re still flying,” Zoe said, opening one eye. “No points for them!” “Shiny,” breathed Wash, who was trying to thread the needle-eye like space between two rapidly spinning pieces of debris. It was a very close thing, and both Zoe and Mal held their breath until they were safely through. Watching a monitor, Mal saw the cutter had elected not to follow them directly. “Broke their course!” he said excitedly. “Won’t matter, unless Kaylee—” he reached up with one hand and grabbed the intercom. “Kaylee, any time now!” “A few more seconds, sweetie!” she answered. She sounded stressed. *

*

*

Kaylee finished the quick splicing job to the umbilical connection to Inara’s shuttle, then dashed inside to the cockpit to heat it up. No need to activate the engine, just heat up the reactor and prime the condenser. Satisfied that it was safely done – well, safe enough, considering what she was doing was a perversion of the ship’s systems – she ran across the catwalk above the cargo hold to the other shuttle, where Jayne was standing, a somewhat panicked and confounded look on his face. “We got battle stations?” he asked. “Since when we got battle stations? No one tells me nothin’!” “Go into the shuttle, and when I tell you to, heat up the reactor, prime the condensers. Don’t flare the engine, just turn the gorram thing on.” “Check,” he said, and dove inside. Kaylee popped the access cover to the umbilical off with a quick pound of her fist, then began rewiring. She was about half way done when Wash’s voice erupted over a nearby intercom speaker. “Kaylee, any time now!” She spared just a moment to pick up the mike. “A few more seconds, sweetie,” she said, and then got back to work. As she knitted the wires into the controls, she murmured encouraging words to the ship and tried not to think about the pressure. She was just Kaylee, just fixing something that needed fixing, and that was all she needed to worry about. Before she knew it, the last connection had been made. She pounded on the frame of the shuttle entrance twice with her fist. “Heat it up, Jayne!” She didn’t even wait for an answer. She flew back to the engine room, slid into the control panel, and hit the final activation. Out of breath but hopeful, she triggered the intercom. “It’s done! Hit the emergency escape routine for the shuttles!” “WHAT?!?!” was the panicked reply. “It won’t launch the shuttles, I just hi-jacked the controls! If you want speed, point her right and punch it!” “If you’re wrong I’m going to be cross with you, young lady, just to let you know,” she heard Wash say. Then she heard two solid clicks and a slight buzz – one of the connections was imperfectly made, no doubt it arced a bit. Then the magic happened. The turbine went from fast to blurry fast. The glow from the engine went from bright yellow to hot white. The rhythmic hum went to a high-pitched whine. Full burn went to way-past-full burn. The lights dimmed. The hiss of the ventilator declined significantly. And Serenity was going faster than she had ever gone before. She could feel it. “That’s my girl,” breathed Kaylee, her head up against the casing, giving it a big hug. “Oh, I love you! And I’m so proud! That’s a good girl!”

*

*

*

“Okay, they’re going around,” Mal warned. “Thanks for the update,” Wash muttered. “They’re gonna try for another shot. Idiots! Don’t they know how expensive missiles are?” “They’ll let pretty near anyone be a pirate these days,” Zoe commented. “Yeah, all it takes is an eye patch and an aversion to bathing,” Wash said. “I’d like to be a pirate someday, maybe.” “No standards,” added Mal. “Jen dao mei!” “It’s done!” came Kaylee’s voice over the intercom. It was breathless, but hopeful. “Hit the emergency escape routine for the shuttles!” “WHAT?!?!” Wash squawked into the mike. “It won’t launch the shuttles,” she explained, “I just hi-jacked the controls! If you want speed, point her right and punch it!” Wash spared a fraction of a moment to look at Mal, then Zoe. He shrugged and thumbed the mike. “If you’re wrong I’m going to be cross with you, young lady, just to let you know,” he said, sternly. He turned the ship about to roughly the course he wanted – he went an extra ten degrees port, just to throw of the pirates tracking them. Then he hooked the mike, took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and hit the fateful switch, one that was usually reserved for abandoning ship in an emergency. He opened one eye when nothing happened . . . at first. Click! Click! WHOOOOSH! The lights dimmed, even the control lights on the board in front of him, but the didn’t go out. If the grav drive hadn’t been on the job, he would have been pressed back into the pilot’s chair with the force of the acceleration. He didn’t need to look at the gauges to know that Serenity was blowing out of the Axis debris like a bullet from a gun. “Whoooaaa!” said the three of them in perfect unison. It was the only sound they made for a while. The super-sized burn lasted almost three whole minutes – during which no one said anything – before the deckplates kicked up a little, letting Wash know that Serenity was no longer happy with that kind of performance. He flicked the impromptu booster switch off and glanced at the telemetry monitor. “Still too radioactively freaky to tell if they’re after us – or even know if they saw us leave. Even if they did I doubt they could track our heading through the residual radiation. But even at their best, if they knew where we were, it’ll take about three hours to catch up. Kaylee pulled a miracle. Don’t know what she did, but she did it. We’re running now on about thirty percent, and I’ve got it maxed. If we can have any sort of speed by then, we can get out of this system well before they can get to us.” “Good job, flyboy,” Mal said with a smile, patting Wash heartily on the shoulders. “Good job.” “Now, about that raise,” he said hopefully, turning around in his chair. “Hour ain’t up,” Mal pointed out. “We got us about forty-five minutes to get ourselves killed yet. I’m going to see to Kaylee, give her a hand. Maybe I can speed things up a might. You keep an eye on the bad guys.” “You management types!” mocked Wash as Mal walked away. “Always tryin’ to keep the worker down! Just wait until the revolution comes!” When Mal was gone he looked over at Zoe, sighed, and relaxed. “You know that feelin’ you get when you just fought your way through a crowd of ugly bad guys, guns blazin’, bullets flyin’, blood splashin’, and everything going three times as fast as normal? And then it’s over, and your panic kind of catches up to you?” “Yeah?” Zoe said. “That’s how I feel, right now. My every muscle hurts. My heart is pounding out of my chest. And all I want to do is throw you down on the deck and—” “Celebrate the fact that we’re still alive?” “Yeah,” he said, closing his eyes. “Celebrate. With lots of sweat and maybe some hard-to-explain scratches.” “Yeah, me too,” agreed Zoe, a glimmer in her eye. She considered. “Captain says we got forty-five minutes.” “That door locks,” pointed out Wash quickly. “But there is the window,” he cautioned, though he needn’t have said anything. The window was quickly covered with Zoe’s shirt. “I love this job,” he sighed.