i would like to thank my beta tester, carly! --------------------------------------------------

Brenda Casta was in the engine room giving Claire Delphi a hand when the Peacemaker was suddenly hit. Hard.

Brenda was flung down to the ground, her long blonde hair thrown in front of her face. Getting up, she dusted off her black pants and tight black leather coat. Carson's voice came over the loudspeaker. "Renda, get up here now!" His voice sounded quivery, and she began to get scared. Before running to the bridge, she went to check on Claire.

"I'm alright, go help Crash." she said reassuringly. Claire's brown hair was matted to her face; the light brown jump suit she customarily wore covered in grease from the hit on the Peacemaker. Brenda smiled at the apt use of their captain's nickname.

"If you're sure?" Claire nodded, and Brenda sprinted for the bridge.

Why doesn't he ever wait for Rick to pilot off-world? She thought angrily. Had that been blood on Claire's arm? Hopefully she really was okay...

Just before she rounded the corner onto the bridge, Brenda heard over the open comm "John, get your guns ready." Her heart sank to her knees and she ran headlong the rest of the way.

"Just a little stop on the way before goin' home, huh Captain?" Brenda asked sarcastically as she entered the bridge. She looked to the co-pilot's seat and saw Rick on the ground, unconscious. "We expecting trouble?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about. Just hold on." Carson grunted as he banked a hard left. "I'll get us home. just maybe not all in one piece!"

Brenda gripped the seat as they banked hard. "So, Crash, What've we got? I hope it's worth it this time, Peacemaker is an old broad and I don't know how much more she can take."

Carson leveled out the Peacemaker and turned quickly to Brenda. "Reavers. Some old friends, it seems. Suit up, n'get me weapons, if it isn't too much trouble?" With that, he returned to the controls and his erratic jerking.

Brenda looked up at the view port and sucked in a quick breath. The Scissors. She slammed down into the co-pilot's chair and began pressing buttons. She prepped the main rail cannon and got the missiles on both wings armed. Slamming the comm she yelled, "Claire, brace yourself! John, where in the gorram 'verse are you?"

Ain't gonna take us alive, she promised herself, pausing for a second and checking to make sure her sidearm had ammo in it. Slapping it back into her wrist holster, she turned to her captain, who was sweating profusely as he yanked at the stick.

"We're gonna make it, Sir."

"Glad you think so."