Weeks Eight and Nine

"There it is, right off in the... incredible distance," Wash admitted, pointing forward through Serenity's cockpit windows. "You should just be able to make it out as a little marble."

"Yeah," Jayne agreed - he had seem this before, after all, and presumably knew what to look for. "Lots of different colors - green and gray, and blueish and brown."

"Right - I think I can just make it out," I said, "In the side of that cluster of stars that kind of looks like a big pointed hat."

"That's the one," Wash agreed. "Persephone. Three hours to go before I have to make a final approach."

"I can't wait to get there," I admitted, and Jayne shot me a look with his eyebrows raised. Jayne and I had spent a fair bit of time together this trip, and though he'd never gotten me alone in his bunk like he obviously wanted, (or gotten into *my* bunk,) we'd had one playful kissing session in the break room when no-one else was up and awake, and my resistance to his macho charms was definitely slipping. Even though Jayne was obviously a 'bad boy' type... well, there was an appeal to that, as well as nicer guys like Jonny and lazy slackers of Bester's stripe. I'd been with more than one back on Three Hills, though possibly never one quite as bad for me as Jayne Cobb.

"Hmm... are we on our course vector right?" Jayne said, looking from the window to the display on Wash's console.

Wash peered at it. "I suppose there's a good chance we'll need to make a course correction in... oh, in the next fifteen minutes or so." His fingers danced over the keyboard, pulling up sensor readings and projections and whatever else was required. "Yeah. Just a tiny little burn, but might as well take it now..." He hovered his finger over a little red button, then pressed it for about half a second and then released again.

Before he'd even taken it off, though, we could feel the boom and rumble travelling through the ship, and I knew immediately that something had gone wrong.

"What... that's not a good sound, is it?" Jayne asked. I ignored him, locked eyes with Wash, and he was as stricken as I was.

"Which jet was that?" I asked.

"Umm - C7, on our port side. Was that one of the ones that you've adjusted since we left Dyton Colony??"

"Actually yeah, but I..." I trailed off, and then left the cockpit, putting on speed as much as I could. The only thing that I was sure of was that staying in there and talking with Wash wasn't going to accomplish anything. I had to actually look at that jet, or the part of it that I could look at without going outside wearing a suit, to start with.

So I looked. Wash was calling for Mal and Zoe, not that they'd have missed the fact that something was wrong, and I just frowned, trying to figure out what to do that would be productive. Nothing seemed to be amiss from here. As Zoe headed over, I decided to do a simulation test on the burn, for which... "I need my toolbox," I blurted out to her.

"I can fetch that." Zoe answered simply. "That is, unless there's something more important you need me for."

Something I needed her for? At that moment, something big started to dimly occur to me. Mal and Zoe knew that this could be a life-and-death crisis, though at this moment it might just as easily not be. And - and they were at my disposal, because I was the expert. Mal and Wash, even Zoe - they might have ideas of their own for what would help, what they'd try if I weren't here - but they *wouldn't* as long as I seemed to be in charge of the situation.

"Do it," I said, and hit the intercom. "Wash, you still behind the wheel?"

"There's no wheel, Kaylee," he said with a trace of a laugh. "But yeah, whatever you want, I'm here."

"Right now I want you to do nothing," I insisted. Probably that was already what he had in mind, but still, it didn't hurt to give the order. Would help reinforce the in-charge-ness of me. "I may ask you to try something in a bit, but not yet. Just keep us drifting exactly as we are."

"Understood," Wash said. I looked up and saw Mal.

"Well?"

"Just wondering how long you..."

"There's no way I can tell yet," I said. "Understand the orbital mechanics of our situation." If we were still dead in space in three hours or so, we might crash-land on Persephone, or fly into some other ship, or get diverted by an Alliance patrol so that we DIDN'T fly into anybody, (and how gentle would they be?) "If you've got some time on your hands, you could head down to the suits and... we never did get one tailored to fit me just right, now did we? I think that I'd have remembered that."

"No, gorram it, there was one thing and another..." Mal sighed. "Do you think that you'll need to go outside?"

"I can't tell yet," I said. "Just want to be prepared."

"Ahh, alright. Well, I'll check and prep that petite little suit that you tried on back when I was giving you the grand tour."

"Thanks," I said. Already Zoe was coming back with my toolbox. All of this was on the little catwalk extender in the cargo bay. Mal hurried off, and traded a worried look with Zoe on his way.

The thruster that had caused the trouble tested very badly when I hooked it up. So did the other jets on the same row that I tried. So - either the original issue was systemic, or the trouble had spread with the one misfire.

Come on, come on, think? There were a few things that might have this sort of result - how did I figure out the true difficulty and devise a repair plan? I stymied for a second before remembering something that my brother Adan had told me once about troubleshooting a difficult engine. 'If you don't have enough information, try a test that will tell you something - ideally, that will serve to either confirm or deny at least one possible explanation.'

"Wash?" I said to the intercom, which I hadn't quite managed to reach. Growl and grumble. Stepped closer, turned it on, and repeated his name.

"Yeah?"

"Flood coolant into C9 for me, okay?"

"What good is that going to do?"

I counted to four silently. "None at first, but it'll tell me if the fuse wires are burnt through or not. Just do it, okay?"

----------

Over the next hour, a few answers started to emerge, but not hardly enough of them. The systemic issue was not in the ship's electrical system, or at least, not more than slightly. It was affecting all of the jets on this side of Serenity except the three bow ones, but not any of the larger drives. Still, there was almost no way that we could make a good landing without using the affected jets - and if Wash TRIED that, straining the big port-side engine or the shuttle burners by making them perform in a way that they weren't meant to, that might start other troubles if we hadn't figured out the true source of the issue.

"The propellant flow!" I exclaimed suddenly, seeing it. "All of those jets get refueled along the same pipes. Not something in the propellant tank, but - in the portside pipe. There are three main pipes thatl lead out of the tank - port, starboard, and bow. IT FITS."

"Maybe," Mal admitted, smiling slightly. "So what's wrong with the pipe?"

"Let's go have a look," I suggested. The propellant tank was reachable from the main catwalk that went down the middle of the cargo bay, but most of the length of the pipe was a lot tricker to get to. After talking quickly about a few ways of rearranging the extenders or rigging harnesses, Mal called Wash and Zoe, had them arrange to turn the internal gravity down to just around ten percent, and then we were able to climb out across the 'ceiling', easily holding on to a group of rungs like a ladder that was pointed the wrong way.

There was nothing wrong with the pipe as seen from outside, but we managed, (oh, after a lot of doing,) to get it pumped out from both ends, then sealing off a section and taking it out for a look. Some propellant dribbled out and very slowly fell towards the bay floor - there was no way around that, but after that I stuck a pipe cleaner into it and it came out covered in this unusual kind of goop. "We don't have time or facilities to do a full analysis on that stuff," Mal pointed out. "Can we just replace this length with fresh pipe and try the jets again?"

"Hmm." I considered. "We'd have to flush all of the jets and refill them... and make sure that the taint hasn't gotten into the tank."

"We can check the pipe closest to the tank on the port side," Mal suggested.

"Yeah, that's worth a try," I said. "We'll have to pull it anyway." I looked at the pipe I was holding before letting it drop down too. "I just wish we could figure out what the contaminant source was. This is perfectly ordinary inert-metal ceramic; there's no way it could have reacted with just about anything, especially the propellant that's designed to come down the pipe. And there's really no way for something else to get into it - if the propellant itself was impure when we last stocked up, all three pipes should be affected more or less equally..."

"More," Mal said meaningfully, pointing at the port pipe, "or less..." that was with a gesture at the starboard and forward pipes. "Maybe we just haven't noticed anything yet?"

"Oh boy," I muttered. "If we're going to test sections from all three pipes, plus the tank - we'll need all five crew working on it."

"Well, if the pipe section closest to the tank on the port side is free, then... yeah, I get your point. We need to be safe," Mal said, then started handing himself over to the main catwalk.

Another half an hour or so. The contaminated pipes had been cleared out of the port side - and the levels of gunk buildup seemed to be consistent with it spreading from a point fairly far out to the port. Starboard side, forward, and the tank itself were so clean that there was no point in replacing anything there. I even tore out and examined as much as I could of the port side feeder system - similar buildup, but nowhere that seemed to be the source of the whatever-it-was. There was nothing special about the junctions on the distribution system - they were just t-intersections in the pipe 'roadway.'

Soon enough the rebuild job was finished, and Mal got on the intercom with Wash. "Alright, when I give you the cue," he instructed, "vent propellant from all the affected jets. You know which ones are connected to the port pipe, right?"

"Yeah, definitely," Wash replied from the cockpit. "And then..."

"And then, switch them back to online," Mal said. "It'll take a while for that many jets to pump full of propellant again, but..."

And that was when it occured to me. "THE PUMPS!" I exclaimed. "That has to be it. One or more of the pump chambers is faulty, mixing in hydraulic fluid with the propellant. THAT'S where the source of the contamination is." Took a breath. "We can't use the pumps until after I've checked them, Mal."

Mal frowned, and looked at his wrist-chrono. "Time's a-tickin', Kaylee. How long will that take?" I hesitated. "And is it really necessary? Unless it was the one jet that misfired that's leaking, then it took a while for the contamination to build up. We *need* to start making adjustments soon. Worst comes to worst, we can replace all of these jets, and the tank, when we get to Eavesdown docks."

I hesitated, torn between the very real requirements of the schedule and the desire to take care of this problem as well as I possibly could. "Yeah, I'll check that jet first, and as I clear them, I'll call them out, so Wash can start using them one by one."

"Sounds good by me," Wash said - or at least, I think that's what he was saying. I was too far from the speaker to hear him really well. It was more sounding like 'Sa goo buh muh.' But Mal nodded agreement, and I got right to work.

It was actually the second jet aft from 'jet zero', (the one that had gone boom,) where I found a gaping hole in the pump mechanism. I was actually surprised that it hadn't misfiredthe last time Wash had used it, but instead had managed to back up pumping fluid enough for every other jet in the pipe system to get tainted. Of course, all the running around doing test runs on the jets had probably aggravated the situation - even running a test draws a little bit of propellant up into the jet.

"So, can we bring the whole lot online?" Mal asked once I'd found that jet. "Or do you need to look further and see if there was another jet that had the same unlikely thing happen to it?"

Again, caution and realism warred inside me. Maybe it would be better, in the absence of a pressing time limit, to check the rest of the array - but no, this failure was improbable enough, and the one bad pump could explain everything that I'd seen. Even if there was anothre flaw just developing, we'd learned enough to get to Persephone okay - if Wash started now. "Go ahead, the whole bunch except for this one, C3. I can't disable it myself, so he'll need to steer clear of it himself."

"Give the order then," Mal said, indicating my communicator egg with a vague wave. At least, I had to assume that was what he meant to wave at.

"Hey, Wash? Sorry for the delay. Go ahead and bring the rest of them up except for jet C3."

"Got it." After a second, I could feel the ship turning slightly. "We're handling A-ok."

"Yeah!!" The exclamation sounded a bit out of character for Zoe, but it was nice to hear her get excited about something.

There was quite a mood of celebration as we zoomed in towards the atmosphere. Mal opened a bottle of something powerfully strong, and proposed a toast to 'the new genius mechanic,' which I rather liked the sound of. But I probably had a bit too much of the liquor too quickly, because when Jayne started to lead me off towards my bunk, I didn't resist, and even followed along with a little bit of eagerness of my own.

In that moment, proceeding to satisfy our mutual passions seemed a perfectly natural direction in which to take the festivities. He flattered me with soft words about how impressive I'd been in action, getting things done and figuring out the right way to proceed. Lips and fingers went just about everywhere, our clothes went flying, (almost literally, on account of the grav still being rather low, and Jayne started taking his time above the waist.

And then, right in between licks, he muttered, "How much do you think that Companion would charge for a menage with us?" and all of a sudden I felt stone sober.

"Inara?" I muttered, shaking not from pleasure, but a sense of betrayal. Maybe I shouldn't have expected any better from Jayne, but still... "A threesome with Inara??"

"Well, yeah," he agreed, still kissing and sucking my chest eagerly, not even noticing that my skin must have grown chill. "It's an experience that neither of us will ever forget, I guarantee you that. And I've got a fair bit of pay saved up, plus once Mal pays out the shares of this job..."

I suddenly recovered from my shock enough to shove Jayne firmly away from me. "GET OUT."

"What the?" Jayne looked confused, then angry. "You some kind of a ruttin' tease, girl? Literally?? Let me get all worked up and then toss me out in the cold? Well, you got another think comi-- AAHH!"

Not particularly liking the sound of that rant, I folllowed the advice that a big brother had once given me and come just close enough to pinch Jayne's ear - warningly. "No, that's not how it is," I said once I knew I had his attention. "I was just as eager for this as you, when it started. But... but I do have some kind of *ching-wa tsao* STANDARDS, and you've blown your chance. I wasn't setting you up for a test on purpose... but I guess that doesn't keep you from..." I couldn't finish that thought, and it didn't matter. "You're going to leave now, unless you want me to pinch an even tenderer part..."

"Misbegotten witch!!"

"I wouldn't have done such a thing if I didn't feel like I had to," I said regretfully. "Don't come back into my bunk. And I'll *never* come to you like this again, not in your place or any other."

"Oh come on now... couldn't we just..." Jayne's eyes dropped to settle on my bare chest again, and I quickly snatched up a sheet and held it in front of myself as a cover. That, apparently, was what gave him the hint that I was serious.

"No, we can't *just*," I felt I had to say as Jayne started up the ladder. "Don't forget your gorram CLOTHES!"

And with that, Jayne looked back at me and grinned. "Drop 'em off with me later." And he headed up into the forward hall in his birthday suit. I groaned and flopped back into my mattress, pounding it in frustration.

-----------

I could hear the sounds of shuttle one settling back into place, but it was a long time - enough minutes that I couldn't manage to keep count of them, anyway - before the hatch opened. Inara blinked as she noticed me curled up practically at her feet. "Well, I guess you'd better come inside," she said, with a half-smile on her face.

"Your client gone?" I checked.

"Yes, of course. That's what the shuttle and I were just up to, dropping him off." I nodded in agreement, and got up. "So, do you want to tell me what's troubling you, or will we just start with tea?"

"Tea sounds good," I admitted.

Over the second cup of tea, I told her about the Jayne thing - including what he'd said to set me off.

"Well, if you're curious," Inara said, and I felt curious enough to nod. "I have made couples appointments, and - probably will again. Not going to say what the going rate is. But - beyond the policy I chose not to work with the crew of the ship, which apparently no-one told Mister Cobb of - I'm always very careful in such a situation that it's something that both partners want, and not just a fantasy on one side that is resented or grudgingly tolerated on the other."

"Okay," I said. "That makes some sense. But - I don't know, I'm wondering if I over-reacted. It was an almighty dumb thing to say, but guys always end up saying something dumb. Especially in the middle of the warm-up act."

"Well, maybe it wasn't so much about that one thing, but that it made you confront a number of other concerns you had about Mister Cobb and what you yourself wanted, beyond a purely physical attraction," Inara suggested. "Whatever you were feeling in that moment, I suspect that it was valid. All feelings are valid, unless rooted in the desire to hurt someone."

"I... I did hurt Jayne's feelings," I admitted. "Bit hard to believe that he has any sometimes, but in that moment - he was terribly disappointed and - and felt rejected."

"And he hurt your feelings too, without even realizing it," Inara replied. "Which would tend to suggest that for the two of you to pursue even a superficial affair would be a painful experience on both sides. I just hope that you'll be able to escape those patterns with a less intense interaction, since you won't be able to work as part of the same crew and avoid any interaction."

"Yeah, that's a good point," I said. "So, what's up for you on Persephone? Anything you're looking forward to - that you can tell me?"

"Well, I have a session coming up with a repeat customer," Inara said. "Someone I knew from Sihnon, because he used to come up there for fencing lessons."

"What's his name?" I pressed, determined not to let Inara get away with such a tease. "What's he like?"

"Atherton Wing. Let's see... he's very dashing and has a handsome face. Bit of a nasty sense of humor sometimes, but always fun to spend an evening with..."

-----------

The next morning, I found Mal in the break room. "Listen, Cap'n, there's something that I've been meaning to mention to you ever since you recruited Jayne, and all... all that talk of percentages. Now, I realize that when I signed on myself, well, we didn't..."

"You didn't ask for much," Mal said with a smile. "Aside from the chance to fly with Serenity, and see some of the 'verse, and I think that I've delivered that."

"Yes, you have," I had to admit. "But - well, I guess it was terribly naive of me, not asking for - for something more, whether it was a lay or a flat wage, but..."

"A lay?" Mal repeated, raising his eyebrows.

"Not in the physical sense. Just - well, that's a term that they use back home for a cut or a percentage, you know? Working out the lay roster, taking a fifth lay, that sort of thing."

"Oh, all right," Mal agreed. "I've heard of that one, yes. So - it's true you didn't ask for anything monetary when you came on board, but you didn't sign an iron-clad either. Now that your expectations have changed, I'd be wise to offer the best mechanic I've ever had something decent - so that she doesn't take off and leave me in the lurch." He offered his hand, with a twinkle in his eye, and led me towards the cargo bay. I wondered if he knew how unlikely it was that I'd *really* leave Serenity over a question of coin. "Plus, I do believe that a crew works best when the profit, if profit there is, spreads freely between all who are working for the good of the team."

I smiled, starting to like the sound of this. Trusting in what Mal believed was better than have him worrying about what he needed to do to keep me aboard. "Which I do."

"True. On the other hand - you keep us moving, but your primary job isn't what helps us bring in money. A mechanic is overhead, as opposed to Jayne and Zoe, who actually pitch in with guns blazing and lives on the line when the going gets tough."

"Or at least, you're counting on Jayne doing that. There hasn't really been an opportunity for him to prove it yet - if you don't count him turning on his old crew."

"Which I do tend to count, up to a point," Mal admitted. By now we were heading down the stairs into the cargo bay, and I realized that the loot from Dyton Colony, the silver, was already mostly loaded into the mule, but covered and camoflaged so that we could drive through the city without attracting attention. A few bricks worth either had been forgotten or had managed to fall out. "For my excellent mechanic - eight percent share?" It was clearly just the start of a haggle session.

"Hey," I insisted. "Of the pure profit, after expenses? I do more than just tend to the engines, remember - I shilled for passengers on Ezra, and I'll probably do it again." Mal grinned and nodded. "And I got you the computer codes you needed back on Paquin."

"And never did exactly explain how, I'm still noticing," Mal said.

Whoops. He'd never really mentioned the hole in my story; no-one had, so I'd forgotten abou it. And now - with Inara being on board, how would he react if I'd said that she'd been working against us on that escapade - and helping out the guy who had knifed him? Then again, Mal didn't tend to hold grudges of that score - but still, the story of how I'd really met Inara was something private and special, and I didn't want to share it now. "Nope I didn't. A girl needs to keep some secrets if she's going to maintain her bargaining position. Twelve percent, and not a grain less."

"Outrageous."

"Jayne's getting fifteen, and I think that Wash and Zoe get even more. What's YOUR share, Captain? And... where are we going?" I handed Mal the last of the pieces of silver he'd been loading into the mule, and he was gesturing to the front right seat.

"To meet Niska's Persephone contact and make the delivery. I thought that you should be coming with me."

"Oh. Well... thanks, but don't think that'll soften me up much when we're talking hard coin."

"Of course not," Mal replied with a smile. The cargo bay door was already open, I noticed, and he took the control wheel and drove us carefully out into the chaos and noise of Eavesdown docks. "Now, we're not actually talking pure profit. My accounting system is a little odd, I admit, but there are allocations made for regular costs like fueling the ship, and various other contingencies like a decent burial fund. Terms are subject to review, as well - Zoe, Wash, and I have all taken pay cuts for Jayne coming onto the team, and if we hire someone new, like that medic you're always telling me we need..."

"Yeah, I understand," I said, but wasn't too mollified. "Eleven and a half percent?"

"Ten percent."

----------

Persephone's been easily every bit as much of a whirlwind as Wash said it would be.

We got the silver dropped off and collected our promised pay - not just coin, but a nearly untraceable fund of Alliance credit, and a load of fuel, and a few other good things that are worth their weight in gold. We're all pretty flush from our shares of the profit that Mal handed out, living the better days and all. Wash and Zoe took off to have some alone time together, and Mal didn't really like that Zoe left him in the lurch, even though there isn't really that much to be doing. I heard him having a big row with Zoe while Wash and Jayne were off on some errand together - not quite sure what it was Mal was ordering Zoe to do, but she didn't seem inclined to follow his lead.

I also met Badger, who seems a bit funny but also kind of creepy. He seemed more amused than upset that Jayne had hopped from Marco's crew to ours, and said that as long as they were all working for him, it didn't make much difference to him. Then Mal said that they didn't work for him all the time, and that got them down to business over some fruit smuggling gig that it seems we're going to take, from Persephone to New Melbourne.

We're taking on passengers as well - looks live Eavesdown docks is always a good place to pick up a few strays who aren't sure where they need to go, just to get away. There's a young couple around Zoe and Wash's age, (wonder what they'll think when they get back for takeoff tomorrow,) and an older man with a Bolognese accent or whatever, and two middle-aged ladies who are always whispering to each other. Going to be an interesting trip.

Mal took me shopping for parts again. It's weird - he doesn't really object to laying down serious coin for impressive looking machine components that he can appreciate, but didn't want to spend two grains on a spare catalyzer for the compression coil. I admit, it's not much to look at, but it could save our lives one day. I was tempted to lay down my own hard-earned money, but gorram it, this is his ship and it's his place. I've got to teach him that - if I start spending my own money for spares, then soon enough I'm going to be footing the whole cost of keeping her in good repair.

Oh, about Jayne? Yeah, we still pretty much avoid each other, and don't talk too much even when there's some job that we both have to work on at the same time together. I'm not sure if he was really sweeter on me than he let on, or if it's just a male ego thing and disappointed expectations from what he thought would be a good roll in the hay. Whatever the reason, I still stand by what I said to him - we'd never have been good for each other anyway, and probably I'm better off for never having gone through with it. Once his sour mood thaws out, I could see us becoming friends, or even like a brother and sister that never were. (Not that I don't have enough big brothers back home, but none quite like him.)

Maybe I should start trying to thaw him out now, come to think of it, instead of keeping my own side of the cold shoulder up any longer. While still making clear that things have to be plutonic now, of course. Nobody in the 'Verse can resist my cheerfulness, after all, that's what Mal says.

And speaking of friends that I'm feeling like a sister to, I've been spending more time with Inara - when her busy schedule permits, that is. Atherton wasn't the only upper class guy who wanted a piece of her time while she was on Persephone, it seems. Come to think of it, the gang is starting to feel more and more like family - with Zoe as a distant, icy, but sweet Aunt or something, and Wash as the crazy uncle always ready with a joke or a silly thing to say.

------------

"I thought that you'd like circulating with that lot," Inara said, stepping up to the engine room door. I was in my hammock again, trying to think up something to say to the Cortex. "Interesting group of passengers this time."

"Yeah, well, they'd have to be - nobody dull wants to go to a fishy place like New Melbourne," I put in. "Wonder why Badger's buyer wants all of this fresh fruit so bad."

"Oh, is *that* the cargo that Mal is being so secretive about?" Inara smiled. "Maybe it's really good as fish bait."

"Fish bait??" I repeated, surprised.

"Yeah... you cut open a fruit into tiny slices, and... and put one of them on the fish-hook." She sighed and leaned against the wall. "Or so I seem to remember from camping trips when I was little, back on Sihnon."

"Oh, with your family?" I asked.

"No - I don't really remember them much," she admitted. "This was when I had just become a Companion Novice, in training. They'd let us leave the city in the first flush of springtime, and spend a few weeks out at a chalet in the protected wilderlands."

"Okay," I nodded acceptance of that and decided not to try pressing Inara too hard for further details on her background, since this was usually about the point where she'd clam up if I tried. But still I wondered about the 'didn't remember her parents' part. "On Three Hills, we generally used worms or other little live critters. I remember sneaking away with boys to go fishing when I was still in the town school."

"To each world, its own ways," Inara admitted. "I realize that most of the fishing on New Melbourne is with big net operations and full-size fishing boats, not likely to involve bait for individual lines, like hobby fishing. And those fishing trips of yours with boys - did the hook always hit the water?"

"Hmm... I guess not," I admitted. "Anyway, getting back to your original comment about our passengers, I'll come down and mingle in a bit if you think I should. But... I just got a cortex message from Jonny, and I was trying to think of something to say in a video wave back."

"I'm sure he'll love to hear from you, no matter what you say?"

"And if I can't think of anything at all?" I said.

"Maybe you could think of something to show him instead." I blinked. "Only if you wanted to, of course."

"Well anyway," I said, trying to move the topic on again. "You don't have a passenger-client this time, and it's a long flight to New Melbourne. Is this just dead time for you? Do you have any prospects lined up when we get there?"

"Yes, more or less, and no, not yet," she said. "I've put out a few feelers for New Melbourne, but no bites yet - as it were." I laughed a bit too loud at the corny fishing joke. "For this trip - Mister Krauss made a proposition, but I don't think I'm that interested. And I was trying to arrange for someone to meet us along the way, but apparently intercepts like that are harder to handle than I thought. Also, Mal wasn't happy about the idea of my broadcasting our full course over the Cortex, just in case."

"He might have a point," I put in. "So what, then? Aside from mingling and talking with me?"

"I have a lot of background information on the Rim worlds that I still want to study in greater detail," she said. "Well, before you lose your empty train of thought, I'll go and leave you to Jonny."

"Well, thanks," I muttered, and managed a little wave as she left.

---------------

I could feel it, even in the middle of the night, when the engine started to slow down. I was out of my bunk, at the top of the ladder in only a few seconds, (still in my sleep clothes, but those are a fairly ordinary set of shirt and shorts, well anyway...) and pelted to the engine room at top speed.

"What's going on?" Zoe asked, approaching from the direction of the rear stairs.

"I... I'm not sure," I admitted, uncertain. After looking around for a few seconds, I hit the intercom. "Wash, you at the controls?"

"No, I think that he's down for the night," Zoe put in, a worried tone in her voice. "Why??"

"Go to the cockpit yourself," I said. "See if one of the passengers messed with something they shouldn't have. I'm looking for any reason that the rotor speed would be deliberately cranked down." Even as I said it, I was starting to become sure that this wasn't because of anything that was happening in Serenity's forward control room, especially because the big motor was STILL slowing down, and would probably be stopped in half a minute at this rate. Nobody would keep doing that deliberately, would they?

Nobody had, we quickly determined. All of the male crew rousted themselves out of beds in response to the relatively quiet ruckus that Zoe and I made, and Mal was the first to show up at the door of my domain. "What's the situation?"

"Looks like the dynamo arc has... has just disintegrated," I muttered, disbelieving it. "I'm taking out pieces here... we're in deep trouble if I can't manage to weld up something that will do well enough from that scrap nickel in the corner of the cargo bay."

"But - but you'll be able to, right?" Mal said, paling a little. "And..."

"I'm not saying that I can - it's never something I've even thought about," I snapped. "It's a chance for us to stay flying, that's about all. Otherwise - well, I know that you wouldn't be wild about putting out a distress call, especially with folks tending to ask for high rescue fees, but..." Something suddenly twigged. "Zoe - you were very near the engine room."

"Yeah, I was," she said, poking her head back inside. I'd just been about to turn the intercom on, remembering that she'd be waiting up near the cockpit, but I guess that she wasn't. That actually fit into my suspicions.

"You weren't inside a moment before everything started to go wrong, like messing with anything?"

"Kaylee!" Mal exclaimed. "How could you even suggest such a thing..."

"She wouldn't be a good mechanic or a brilliant troubleshooter if she didn't suspect that something strange was up," Zoe said evenly. "Because I did. Call it something of a dry run - just to make sure that she was on the ball, and - to impress upon you just how serious the need for routine and cheap spare parts can be when we spend so much time in the deep black."

"Okay, okay, all right," Mal muttered. "Now - did you actually break this dynamo arc, or just hide it and replace it with a bunch of pieces?"

"I've been saving the old one that Bester took out three months ago and pouring a little acid on it now and then," Zoe said with relish. "The good one's actually hidden in the cubbyhold in the corner of the room, Kaylee - didn't want to risk getring caught carrying it out."

Finally I found the hidey-hole that she mentioned and pulled the arc back out. "Okay, test is over, and I hope that I passed decently," I muttered. "Now get out of here so that I can start re-installing this thing properly."

Mal shot Zoe a 'so there' look as they left, to which Zoe replied with a pleased shrug.

TO BE CONTINUED...