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Author's note: This story is the first in a series of a sweeps-like story arc. It takes into consideration events in the unaired episode "Heart of Gold," which was originally supposed to air after "War Stories," but without any overt spoilers that aren't also referenced indirectly in the episode "Objects in Space." This story takes place a couple of weeks after "Objects in Space" and goes AU from what was written and produced following that episode.
Disclaimer: The characters and situations aren't mine, but nobody else seems to be doing anything with them these days.
"Uh, Cap'n? You got a minute?"
Mal looked up from his morning cup of coffee to see Kaylee standing in front of him, nervously shifting her weight back and forth, from foot to foot. "What is it, Kaylee?" She looked like a kid trying to work up the courage to ask her Pa if she could stay out late that night. Except it looked like she'd already stayed out late -- or all night. She was still wearing the same clothes she'd been wearing the day before, and she was covered in more than the usual amount of grease and grime.
"There's somethin' you gotta see."
That sounded a little more ominous than a curfew extension. "Is something wrong, Kaylee?"
"Just come look."
With a groan, Mal pushed himself out of his seat and followed her back to the engine room. She pointed to something, her hand trembling. "Look at that." Her voice shook, and she looked like she was on the verge of tears.
He looked where she was pointing, but all he saw was the engine in all its usual incomprehensibility. "What is it, Kaylee?" She opened her mouth, and he knew she was on the verge of launching into a long, technical discussion that he didn't stand a chance of following. He raised a hand to stop her before she got started. "All I want to know is how bad it is, what it will take to fix it and how long it'll take to fix it."
"It's not bad. Yet. I think I caught it in time. Serenity let me know something was wrong before it blew up. But it could be bad, real soon."
"How bad?"
"Remember when the catalyzer blew and there was that fire, then life support shut down and we were runnin' out of air?"
"Yeah." How could he forget?
"About that bad. But this time, I know about it ahead of time so I can fix it before it happens."
"Then fix it. You don't have to ask my permission for that sort of thing."
She twisted her hands and kept her eyes cast down on the decking. "Well, see, the problem is I can't fix it. Not now. I need some parts. There's a few things that just have to be replaced, 'cause they can't be fixed. And we can't be flyin' while I do it. It's gonna take a whole overhaul."
"Think we can make it to Persephone before you start taking the engine apart? We've got a meeting set up with Badger, and if we're late, we may miss out on the job."
She shook her head. "Oh, there's no way we could make it as far as Persephone. Let's just say we really don't want to push the engine right now."
"You sure about that, Kaylee?"
"Would you wanna bet our lives on it?"
Mal looked again at the spot on the engine she'd pointed to, but he still couldn't see what the problem was. They needed the job from Badger. They were awful short on cash. But all the cash in the world wouldn't do them any good if they were floating dead in space. He might have been willing to gamble with his own life, but he couldn't make that decision for his crew. "Let me see if I can find us a place to set down. Just keep her runnin' until then, okay Kaylee?"
She sniffed, then ran her sleeve across her face. "Okay, Cap'n."
This was not the best way to start the day. Mal made his way up to the bridge, where Wash was engaged in yet another furious dinosaur battle. He knocked the dinosaurs off the console the moment he noticed Mal's presence. "Good mornin' Mal, what can I do for you?"
"Where are we?"
"In space."
"Care to narrow it down a bit?"
Wash pointed to a spot on the scope. "Right about here."
"That still doesn't tell me much. What I need to know is, are we anywhere near a spot where we could set down, get some parts and do some engine repairs?"
Wash studied his monitors, then said, "We're pretty close to New Lafayette, could probably get there sometime tomorrow morning. It's kind of a home port for spacers." He rolled his eyes as if he was amused at the concept of spacers having any home other than their ships.
"Yeah, I know the place. We made a stop there when we were trying to put together a crew. Ol' Jefferson Winthrop is in charge there, or was back then."
"They have that amazing junkyard there. I bet you could find any part for any ship, and you can usually get it for a song."
"Well, considerin' how little we got to trade, that's probably a pretty good thing. How's your singing voice?"
A second later, Mal was sorry he'd asked, as Wash proceeded to demonstrate, loudly. Mal beat a hasty retreat back to the engine room to tell Kaylee that they'd be stopping soon.
Mal was in his bunk, going over the ship's account books in an effort to see just how much they could afford to pay for the engine parts, when Wash's voice came over the comm -- not singing anymore, thank God. "We have now reached our destination of New Lafayette and will be docking shortly."
"Thanks, Wash. I'll be up there in a sec." It was a real shame Wash was a lousy singer, because they were sorely lacking in anything else of value. As he climbed the ladder up to the corridor, he recalled that Zoe could carry a pretty good tune, and then he remembered that it was all just a saying, anyway. Winthrop wasn't likely to give them anything for a literal song.
"We just got clearance to land," Wash said as Mal entered the bridge. "Looks like a slow day around here. Nobody's docked."
"Isn't that a bit odd?"
"A bit, but not too much. The best place for a spacer is in space."
The ship settled onto the ground with something that sounded suspiciously like a human sigh. Kaylee would say the old girl was tired and in need of some rest and pampering. Mal climbed down from the bridge and bellowed for Kaylee. She joined him a second later, dressed in a clean coverall and with most of the grease washed from her face. "You're with me," he told her. "I may need you to tell these people what we need."
"Okay, Cap'n," she said with a mock salute, then she followed him down the steps to the cargo bay.
The air outside the ship was still and calm, the kind of calm that often came before a big storm, but there wasn't a cloud in the sky. The town was awful quiet, too, but if there weren't any crews docked there, that made sense. It was probably good that the town had a chance to recover, judging by the condition of most of the buildings. The last few crews to dock must have been real hell-raisers. There were scorch marks and bullet holes everywhere.
Mal was just about to wonder where he'd find Winthrop when he noticed a portly, bearded figure approaching them down the town's main street. He'd just recognized Jefferson Winthrop when the other man shouted, "Why, Mal Reynolds, as I live and breathe. I guess you finally found a crew for that old junker of yours."
Mal could sense Kaylee's spine stiffening next to him, and he gave her arm a gentle squeeze. Now was not the time to take offense. "Yep. Best crew anywhere, as a matter of fact. And Serenity's hardly a junker anymore, thanks to this young lady. Jeff, meet Kaylee, our mechanic."
Winthrop took Kaylee's hand and bent over it to kiss the air above her knuckles. She blushed and giggled. Winthrop straightened and turned his attention to Mal. "So, what brings you here, son?"
"We're in need of some repairs. I got my own mechanic here, but what I need are some parts. I figure you've probably got everything we need in that legendary junkyard of yours."
Winthrop sighed heavily. "You picked a real bad time to set down here, Mal. I'd advise that you'd best just take off and go on to someplace else."
"We can't," Kaylee said. "We ain't gettin' far off the ground without those parts. We'd never break atmo without the engine fryin'."
Mal turned sharply to glare at Kaylee. She hadn't let on that it was that bad, that once they set down, they'd never get up again. He wondered how much of that was true and how much was exaggeration. She did tend to coddle the ship a bit.
"Well, like I said, Mal, this is a bad time, a real bad time for us. That junkyard's about all we got left to bargain with, so I can't be givin' out parts left and right these days."
The damage to the buildings took on new meaning to Mal, a disturbing new meaning. "What happened here, Jeff?"
"Pirates. There's a band of space pirates rampaging around these parts. At least they're not the Reavers, which isn't saying much. They don't kill everyone, and they don't eat anyone, but they take any ship they can get their hands on. They wiped us clean yesterday, took everything that could still fly. Looks like they're building a fleet. Anyway, if the ships don't come, we don't have much of a town, and that junkyard is about the only thing worth coming here for these days. So unless you're willing to pay a good price for those parts, I'm gonna have to say no."
"Jen dao mei," Mal muttered. "We're kinda short on cash at the moment, but we're on our way to a big job. I could pay you on account."
Winthrop laughed. "Now, how dumb do I look? When a spacer pays on account, you just know you'll never see him again."
"I'm good for it, you know that."
"Sorry, son. Can't afford to make exceptions."
"Could we trade, maybe?"
"What do you got?"
"What do you need?"
"Food."
Mal scratched his head. "Well, we're runnin' kind of low, but we do have some canned goods. They're missing their labels, but I can guarantee that they're all food."
"Unless you got enough to feed the whole town, it's not enough. We could also use some medical supplies. A lot of my people got hurt real bad in that raid."
Mal brightened. "Now, that, we got. We're near 'bout as well equipped as your basic Core hospital."
"That's a start, but supplies aren't much good without someone to use 'em, and our doc was one of the casualties."
Mal was starting to get a notion. He looked down to see Kaylee looking up at him, the same idea shining in her eyes. He gave her the slightest of nods, and she turned and ran back to the ship. "So, I guess you could use a doctor, too, huh?"
"Yeah, a doctor could come in real handy." Winthrop laughed, like he took it as a joke.
"How about a trauma surgeon?"
"Stop it, Mal, you're hurting me." Winthrop wiped tears of mirth from his eyes. "Don't tease me. A trauma surgeon's just what we need right now. But a trauma surgeon flying with a Firefly? I never heard of such a thing."
"Well, just for fun, say we do happen to have a trauma surgeon handy, along with plenty of medical supplies. What would you give us if I let you have the use of our surgeon to take care of your people while we fix my ship?"
"If you could take care of my people, I'd let you have as much as you could carry from my junkyard."
As if on cue, Kaylee arrived, dragging a bewildered-looking Simon by the hand. He was struggling to keep up with her, as he still had a bit of a limp from that bullet he'd taken to the thigh. He looked up at Mal, then over at Winthrop, apprehension all over his face. When would that boy learn that Mal wasn't going to throw him to the wolves? He would have thought someone as smart as Simon was would have figured it out by now, after the number of times Mal had risked his neck to keep him and his sister safe.
Mall put a hand on the doctor's shoulder and said, "Well, Jeff, here's our doctor. The boy's a fully qualified trauma surgeon. He trained at one of the best medacads in the Alliance, and he was in the top three percent of his class. He's saved the life of just about everyone on my ship. And he's yours until I get my ship fixed, as long as I get my parts."
Winthrop looked at Simon and frowned suspiciously. To be honest, Mal could hardly blame him. After all that time when Simon had worn suits and vests on board the ship, he had to have gone casual just when Mal needed him to look like a doctor. He wore cargo pants and a baggy sweater, both of them a bit too big for him, and his hair was uncharacteristically rumpled. He looked all of about twelve years old, not like someone you'd trust with a scalpel. Then again, even in a full suit or in surgical gear, he still didn't look old enough to be a doctor. But Mal knew from his own experience that there was no doubting the boy's expertise when he got near a patient. "Why don't we just go take a look at your casualties so the doc here can assess this situation?" he suggested.
Still looking doubtful, Winthrop said, "We've got the wounded over in the bank. It was the most secure area." He led them down the street, opened a door and escorted them inside. The sight was enough to make even Mal queasy. There were bodies all over the floor, most of them covered with a good amount of blood, which was for the most part seeping through dirty rags passing for bandages. Next to Mal, Kaylee turned pale, then green, then backed out of the room. It was probably for the best, he figured. She didn't need to be seeing things like this.
As for Simon, it was like someone had flipped a switch. Mal never could get over the difference between the Simon who was an awkward kid so far out of his element that he couldn't even see his element from where he stood and Dr. Tam, who was calm, cool and totally in control of any situation. Because medical emergencies were, thankfully, few and far between on Serenity, it was easy to forget about Dr. Tam. Well, Dr. Tam had just come out to play, and it was immediately clear that he was in his medical groove. He worked his way through the room, stopping occasionally to check beneath a bandage or measure a pulse. Then he came back to Mal and Winthrop and said, "Looks to me like you've mostly got gunshot wounds, along with what appear to be shrapnel injuries and some blunt-force trauma. I can probably save most of them, but I can't guarantee I can save them all."
Winthrop looked at Mal in surprise as if to say, "He really is a doctor," and Mal gave him a smug grin. "So, what'll it be, Jeff?" Mal asked. "Am I gonna get my parts?"
"Take whatever you want. And thank you." He walked further into the bank, apparently reassuring his people with the good news that they'd found a doctor.
Simon looked up at Mal, that doubtful expression back on his face. "I hope you know what you're doing," he said softly.
"No, son, I hope you know what you're doing. If you don't save some lives in here, we may never make it off this rock."
Simon nodded, absorbing that bit of news. "Okay. But I'll need to go back to the ship and get some supplies. And I'll need help."
"You've got everyone but Kaylee. I need her working on Serenity."
They found Kaylee outside the bank, still looking a little pale. She perked up a bit when she saw them. "Can you help them, Simon?" she asked, her face shining with hero worship.
He blushed and ducked his head. "I hope so."
They didn't have time for those two to have a tender moment, so Mal took each of them by the arm and started walking. "C'mon, kids, back to the boat, we've got work to do."
As soon as he made it up the ramp into the cargo bay, he hit the comm and said, "All hands, down in the cargo bay, ma shong." Within minutes, his whole crew was gathered in the cargo bay, with the exception of Simon, who had gone off to the infirmary to gather his medical gear.
"Okay, here's the deal," Mal said when they'd all gathered, even Inara, who was making a point of not looking directly at him. "We've gotta do an engine overhaul before we can get off this rock. To do that, we need parts. To buy these parts, we're doing a bit of a medical mission of mercy. They've got wounded from a pirate raid, and the doc's gonna help 'em. All of you are now medical staff -- nurses, assistants, stretcher bearers, whatever he needs. Simon is in charge of this operation, I want to make that very clear. Do whatever he says do." He made a point of looking directly at Jayne when he said this.
"And one other thing. Nobody call him by name. Call him doctor, call him son, call him hey you, but whatever you do, don't use his name. Trauma surgeons don't exactly fall out of the sky in this part of the 'verse, and they don't tend to sign on with Firefly transports, especially not as young as he is or as good as he is. That's bound to raise a few suspicions. Now, I'd hope that these folks would be grateful enough that they wouldn't turn him in if they figured out who he is, but good people in desperate situations can do some pretty bad things, and I'd rather not give them any additional dots to connect."
He turned to Inara. "Inara, I'd like you to keep River on board and out of sight. Again, let's limit the number of dots. A young trauma surgeon traveling with a kid sister, well, we may as well just wave a flag."
She nodded and took River's hand. "Let's go braid your hair." The girl went with her without protest, but she did glance back over her shoulder with a worried expression as she went up the steps toward Inara's shuttle. Mal had half a mind to ask her what the problem was. He was starting to figure that River was the best early warning system on his ship.
But instead, he turned to Kaylee. "C'mon, let's go dig through a junkyard." The two of them climbed on the mule and took off as the others headed to the infirmary.
Now, this was a job he could get behind wholeheartedly, Book thought as he walked with Simon and the others to the bank building that was serving as a hospital. Providing aid to people in need and having his own needs met in return was exactly the kind of work he liked to do. There was something so very Biblical, so very Christian about it.
Though, if he was being perfectly honest with himself, he had to admit that his anticipation of this job wasn't entirely motivated by altruism. He considered himself to be a student of human nature, and his particular interest was in observing people forced out of their comfort zones into extreme situations. That was part of what made life on Serenity so fascinating for him. This job seemed like the perfect opportunity to observe the crew in a situation that was bound to be new and uncomfortable for them. Not only would they be working in the mostly unfamiliar field of medicine, where none of them other than the doctor had anything resembling real expertise, but they'd be taking orders from Simon, of all people.
Book didn't imagine that Zoe would show any signs of discomfort. She kept her reactions internal, for the most part, and even if she resented answering to the doctor, she would consider doing so to be obeying her captain, which would be fine with her. Wash didn't seem to put much stock in the chain of command at any time. He'd be perfectly willing to listen to anyone who knew more about the situation than he did. Jayne would be the most interesting one to watch. He didn't like the doctor in the best of circumstances, so he certainly wasn't going to like this situation. Book hoped he was nearby when Simon gave Jayne his first order.
As for the doctor, this would be a rare opportunity for Book to observe him actually in his comfort zone, in a situation he knew how to handle and for which he'd spent much of his life training. Book found the young doctor to be the most intriguing person on the ship to observe, with the possible exception of the enigmatic, contradictory captain. Simon was a living example of Shan Yu's volcano test. Here was a man whose day-to-day existence involved being suspended over the mouth of the metaphorical volcano. He'd been stripped of almost everything that defined who he was as a person, which meant he now had the chance to find out who he really was. This was one of the main reasons Book wanted to remain on board Serenity as long as possible. Leaving before he got to see whether Simon discovered and lived up to his true potential would be like putting aside a novel without reading the final chapter.
They reached the bank building and went inside. Book had seen worse sights than what met them, but it had been a very long time. The smell of blood, death and sickness permeated the place, and the floor was covered with damaged bodies. Wash looked a little greenish and had to swallow hard a few times. Jayne went pale and muttered under his breath. Even Zoe grimaced. Simon didn't appear to notice their discomfort -- or pretended not to notice. He set the medical cases he was carrying on the ground, opened one and took out two markers, which he handed to Zoe and Book.
"Okay, first thing we need to do is triage," he said as the others put down their supplies. "Rank the patients by priority. Zoe, you and the Shepherd have enough field experience to have a sense of who needs help the most. Rank them from one to five, and mark it somewhere visible on clothing or bandage. The ones are the patients in most need of medical assistance but who still stand a chance of being saved without devoting too much time. Twos need surgical intervention, but can last a little longer without it. Threes are any of the more serious cases that we weren't sure we could help who are still alive when we get back to them. Fours need medical intervention, but not necessarily surgery. Fives are superficial injuries. Look for compromised airways, bleeding or broken bones. It's harder to tell if there are internal injuries, but look out for signs of shock -- clammy skin, rapid, weak pulse, dilated pupils, confusion. When in doubt, ask me." He looked from Zoe to Book. "You two okay with that?"
Zoe nodded briskly. "Got it." She and Book went to work, evaluating each of the people lying on the bank floor. Most of them were drifting in and out of consciousness, in great pain. Book said a brief prayer for each of them as he checked their injuries. He also tried to listen in on the rest of what Simon was saying.
Simon continued outlining their plan of attack. "Wash, Jayne, I need you to help me set up an operating room. That desk should work. It's the right height and size. Jayne, could you clear it off for us? Wash, let's get the equipment over there." There was a loud clatter, and Book didn't have to look over his shoulder to see how Jayne had gone about clearing off the desk.
A few minutes later, Simon came over to where the patients were, pulling on surgical gloves as he moved. "Okay, where are the ones?" Zoe pointed out the patients most in need of care. Simon checked each of them, then pointed to one and said, "That one. Wash, Jayne, we need a stretcher over here, please. And a blanket." Once they got over to the patient, Simon showed them how to lay the blanket on the ground next to the patient, shift the patient gently onto the blanket, then move the blanket onto the stretcher.
Book was somewhat surprised at how well Jayne was following instructions. There were many different ways in which people dealt with situations that made them uncomfortable. One unfortunately common way was to hide the discomfort under bluster and defensiveness. Quite frankly, this was what Book had predicted from Jayne. Instead, however, he seemed to be using the exact opposite coping method, following the leadership of a person who knew what he was doing in the situation. Interesting. Of course, one possible variable in all this was the way Simon was giving orders. He was phrasing everything as a polite request rather than bossing people around. Then again, that could have been as much for his patients' sake as that of his helpers. Keeping his voice soft, calm and steady rather than sounding agitated or doing anything that would create more tension in an already tense room was best for people who were scared and in pain. The boy certainly knew what he was doing.
"Okay, Wash, take those scissors and cut away the cloth around the wound for me," Simon said as he started an IV on his patient. "Jayne, would you mind holding this?" He handed Jayne the IV bag. "You don't have to hold it over your head, just high enough for it to drip. Thanks." As he went to work, he raised his voice slightly to carry across the room. "Zoe, you know how to start an IV, don't you?"
"I've done it before. Can't quite say I'm good at it."
"I'm sure you'll do fine. Why don't you get IVs started for the patients who are in shock? Then you can start doping the ones who need it. Standard field dosage should be fine. Skip anyone with a head injury. Shepherd, you can get started cleaning and dressing the wounds that don't require surgery."
Book gathered disinfectant and bandages, and then he was too busy for a while to pay much attention to the interpersonal dynamics of the crew.
Kaylee was like the proverbial kid in a candy shop. She ran back to the mule with an armful of parts, her face glowing, then gently placed her bounty with all the rest of the parts that were piling up in the trailer. She held one part, something that looked like a tube with a bunch of wires hanging off it, out toward Mal and asked, "Can you believe they had one of these just lyin' around out here?"
Mal had no idea what that contraption was supposed to be, so he didn't know whether or not he should believe it. "Kaylee, honey, maybe we should leave some stuff here."
"He said we could take all we wanted."
"But we don't need enough parts to build a whole new ship. We just need enough parts to fix Serenity and keep her in the air. And I'd like to get her in the air as soon as possible, so get what you need and let's get back to the ship so you can get to work on that engine."
Her lower lip stuck out in a pout. "You're mean."
"Of course I am. And it would serve you right if your face froze that way. I can't think of too many doctors who would look at you twice with your face all funny lookin'."
She turned her back to him and resumed picking through the piles of junk that surrounded vacant hulks of old ships. "I'll have you know," she said as she worked, "that he said I was pretty especially when I was all covered in grease."
"Yeah, but I bet he didn't say anything about a funny-lookin' lip."
Mal barely ducked in time to avoid the chunk of metal she threw at him. She was still muttering under her breath and glaring at him when they got back to the ship. He tried to make it up to her by helping her carry the parts she said she needed right away to the engine room. "Need any help here?" he asked as he set down the final load. She was already busy taking the engine apart.
"Nope. Just stay out of my way. You could go help Simon."
Mal supposed he could, but first he dropped by Inara's shuttle. He didn't bother to knock because he knew she wouldn't be up to anything requiring privacy with River in there with her -- at least, he hoped not -- and because she looked especially beautiful when she was angry. Unfortunately, she barely looked up from braiding River's hair into an elaborate arrangement to acknowledge his entrance. She'd been like this ever since she'd told him she was planning to leave, and he couldn't believe how much he ached for a good argument from her.
"My hair won't get in my face this way," River informed him cheerfully. "It's better for fighting."
"Who said anything about fighting?" he asked. Then he turned his attention to Inara, who still wasn't looking at him. "Kaylee got all the parts she needed, so she's getting to work on the engine." She still didn't acknowledge him. "We should only be a couple of days late to Persephone." No response. He scratched his ear, the one the doctor had reattached, and added, "Um, the power may have to go out from time to time while she's working, so you may need to use your shuttle's power." He didn't know whether or not that was true, but it seemed like the kind of thing she'd have to acknowledge.
"Thank you for letting me know."
Well, that was something, but it wasn't much. Then again, he didn't really know what he was expecting. "Well, so, uh, I guess I'll head into town and see if the doc needs a hand, or something. I could replace Wash so he can help Kaylee."
"That's nice. I suppose we'll see you later." There was the distinct ring of a dismissal in her tone.
"Okay, then, well, bye. River, be good."
River rolled her eyes at him. "I'm always good. It's just that the definition of good keeps changing."
Mal thought that pretty much summed up his life. He reluctantly turned and left, then went down the stairs to the cargo bay. Now that he'd said something about relieving Wash, he guessed it meant he had to actually do it. He knew he wasn't much use in the engine room with Kaylee, and it wasn't right for the captain to be the only member of the crew not working. It looked like he was up for stretcher bearer duty.
Before he got to the bank, Winthrop stepped out of a nearby office and stopped him. "Mal, I must say, you really are a godsend."
"It wasn't God that sent us."
"Oh, I don't know. Having a transport that just happens to have a trauma surgeon on board land at exactly the time we need medical help sounds like a miracle to me. I could probably count the ships with doctors on board I've seen come through here on the fingers of one hand. But here was one at just the right time." He frowned as he looked up at Mal. "How is it that you do have a doctor, anyway? I don't recall you lookin' for a medic when you were putting together your crew. And I sure as hell can't think of how you can afford to pay him. Do you know how much money those fellas make in the Core?"
Mal knew he should have had an explanation handy ahead of time because the question had been guaranteed to come up. He decided on a story that was essentially the truth, because that was less likely to trip him up. Well, a variation on the truth. There might be a grain of actual truth in the story that he was frantically trying to think up, even now. "Well, you see, he ain't exactly crew. He's more of a passenger." That had been true at one time. "He's some rich kid from the Core who decided he wanted to see the 'verse, so he's payin' us to let him ride with us for a while." He rolled his eyes. "You know what they say, the rich really are different." Giving Winthrop a conspiratorial wink, he added, "If you ask me, I suspect it has something to do with getting as far as possible from some young lady's pa."
As soon as he said it, Mal suspected he'd taken it a bit too far. Winthrop would only have to spend a few minutes with Simon to figure out that this wasn't a likely story. The boy practically oozed honor. He wasn't the type to get any young lady in a situation that would upset her pa, and just about any pa would be glad to see his daughter with a young man like Simon -- well, except for the outlaw fugitive thing. "Or, you know, maybe he just got burned out from his work at the hospital and needed to get away for a while," Mal added. "He is awful young for this kind of work." That was a far more likely story.
"It's a very stressful job," Winthrop agreed.
Mal relaxed a bit, glad he wasn't going to get caught in his own lie. "Anyway, he pitches in with some doctorin' when we need it, so I guess it works out for all of us."
"It's certainly worked out for us. I can't thank you enough."
"Remember, we're makin' out pretty well on this deal, ourselves." Mal left Winthrop behind and headed to the bank. The place was a far cry from the way it had looked only a few hours ago. Most of the blood was gone, and the people looked less like broken dolls and more like, well, people. The Shepherd was working in what looked like a makeshift post-op ward at the back of the bank, comforting the patients, while Zoe was cleaning and bandaging wounds in front. The doctor was in the middle of operating on someone lying on a massive mahogany desk. Jayne stood at the head of the desk, holding an IV bag and watching the operation with slack-jawed fascination. Wash stood across from Simon, holding a light while trying to look anywhere but at the body on the table.
"How's it goin', Doc?" Mal asked as he approached the desk.
Simon kept his eyes on his work. As he pulled a shard of metal out of his patient's stomach and dropped it in a basin, he said, "Pretty well, I think. I lost a couple, but I'm not sure I could have saved them even in the hospital where I used to work, with all the equipment we had there." He extracted another piece of shrapnel. "Wash, could you angle the light a little more to the left? Your left. Thanks." He dug around for a while longer, came up with another shard, then switched instruments and started doing something else. Most of it was as incomprehensible to Mal as Kaylee's engine repairs.
Speaking of which ... "Wash, why don't you let me take over here? You can go back to the boat and give Kaylee a hand. The sooner she gets done, the sooner we get out of here, and the better I'll feel."
Wash didn't even put up a token protest. He handed the light over to Mal, called out, "See you back home, babe!" to Zoe and took off.
Mal tried to angle the light the way Wash had been holding it. "A little more this way," Simon said, gesturing with his head. Mal moved his wrists ever so slightly. "Perfect. Thanks."
"So, what're you doin' now?" Jayne asked.
"Using a surgical sealant to close up these internal injuries."
"Is that something like glue?"
"It basically is glue, a sterile organic adhesive."
"Huh."
Mal could hardly believe his ears. Not only was Jayne not being combative with the doctor, who was his favorite target for jokes, pranks and sarcasm, but Simon wasn't being snippy to Jayne, who, in the doctor's opinion, was barely capable of walking upright. In fact, this was the most patient Mal had ever seen the doctor when he wasn't dealing with his sister, and even then he usually sounded like he was on the verge of snapping. Apparently, the boy really was happiest when he was being a doctor.
Simon finished closing the incision, bandaged it and said, "Okay, we're ready for our next customer." He looked tired, but Mal knew better than to suggest that he take a break, not when there were so many lives at stake.
Jayne picked up the stretcher, laid it on the desk beside the patient, then said, "Now, Mal, here's how we do this. You gotta take the blanket the patient's lyin' on, then move it as gently as possible onto the stretcher. Got that?" Mal was starting to feel like he'd fallen through a rabbit hole into some bizarre alternate universe, one where Jayne and Simon got along and Jayne was actually teaching Mal how to do something that didn't involve violence. He and Jayne moved the patient to post-op, where the preacher was doing something that looked suspiciously like praying, while Simon stripped off his bloody gloves and added them to the growing pile on the floor. Then Mal and Jayne went over to Zoe, who pointed out the next patient to take.
As they moved that patient onto the stretcher, Mal commented, "You seem to be finding all this kinda interesting."
"Yeah. Now that I know what people are like inside and how doctors go about fixin' 'em, I'm gettin' some real good ideas about where to aim and what to do to make it harder to patch 'em up again." As disturbing as that sounded, it was almost reassuring to Mal. At least he knew he was in the right universe.
Jayne gave a count of three, and they stood up with the stretcher. In spite of the number of patients in post-op, there were still plenty more waiting their turn. It was gonna be a long day.
Kaylee hummed softly to herself as she cleaned the parts she'd taken off the engine. Some of them were still good, and she couldn't decide if she should just put them back, or if she should use the new parts, instead. Either way, they'd have back-up, which was always a good thing.
"I never thought I'd be so glad to see a disassembled engine." Wash's voice coming from the hatch startled her. She looked up and smiled. "Need some help?" he asked.
"Sure thing. Right now I'm just cleanin' stuff up." He sat next to her and picked up a part, and she went back to work. "So, you didn't like the medical work so much, huh?" she asked after a while.
"If I never have to look inside a human body again, it'll be too soon." He shuddered. "I don't know how Simon does it."
"He's just used to it, I guess."
"Yeah, but how do you go about getting used to something like that?"
"Well, I suppose some people are just born to be doctors, just like some people are born to be mechanics or pilots."
"Makes sense." He shuddered again. "And it's a very good thing I was born to be a pilot. There's a lot less blood involved. Usually."
They worked in silence for a while, which was fine with Kaylee because it gave her time to think about how she was going to go about rebuilding the engine. She liked working with Wash because he didn't make her nervous. She wasn't so worried about whether or not he thought she was doing a good job, like she was with the captain around, or about whether or not she sounded stupid, like she was around Simon. She liked both of them a whole lot, but sometimes it was draining just being around them.
After about half an hour of silence, which must have been a real stretch for Wash, he started telling stories about his adventures in flight school. She'd heard most of them before, but they never failed to make her laugh. One story left her holding her sides. "Okay, okay, enough," she choked out. "I gotta start puttin' the engine back together, and I can't do that if I'm laughing this hard."
"If you insist. Mouth zipped." He acted like he was really zipping his mouth up, which made her laugh again. She picked up a part and turned to put it in the engine when she saw River standing just inside the hatch.
"Can I help?" River asked.
"Does Inara know where you are?"
"I know I'm not supposed to leave the ship. She said I could come help you."
"Okay, then. You can hold the light for us."
"Hey, that was my job on the medical team," Wash said. "I can give you some pointers, if you like. I am an expert light holder."
River picked up the flashlight and held it so that Kaylee and Wash could see what they were doing. It was only after a little while that Kaylee realized the light was always right where they needed it, without either of them having to ask River to move it. She supposed that could be a little bit creepy, but it was useful, so she didn't think there was any harm to it. As she worked, she tried to make conversation. "River, your hair looks really pretty." And it did, all braided up into something that looked like a crown. It made River look like a fairy princess from one of the storybooks Kaylee had loved so much as a kid.
"Inara did it."
"She tried doing that with my hair once, but it wasn't long enough, and it kept poppin' out of the braids."
"I think Zoe would look good with her hair like that," Wash put in. "Do you think Inara would do it for her? What am I saying, the real question is would Zoe sit still long enough to have it done? She doesn't have a lot of patience for that sort of thing."
"Yeah, I can just see Zoe done up all fancy like that," Kaylee said with a snort. "Not that she ain't pretty, but she don't go for all that frilly stuff." She turned to River. "Hey, River, could you hand me --" but River was already holding it out for her -- exactly the tool she needed, too. "Thanks, River. That was kinda neat how you did that."
River frowned. "Not scary?"
"A little weird, maybe, but since I know you, it's not scary. Kind of handy, actually." She tightened a bolt, then looked back at River. "I don't suppose you can spy on your brother, can you?"
"I do, all the time."
"Oh!" Kaylee wondered if River would be willing to share any good information. Then she realized just how much River might be aware of and blushed. "Oh."
River's eyes took on a dreamy look. "He's very tired, and his leg hurts, but he's happy. And he feels bad about being happy about all those people being hurt, but he likes helping them."
That wasn't exactly an earthshattering revelation. Kaylee could probably have guessed at that much, but she doubted River would rat her brother out on anything Kaylee didn't already know. She was just about to press for more when the other girl blinked and shivered. "Danger," she whispered.
"River, what kind of danger?" Wash asked, but before River could answer there was a loud boom nearby and the ship shook. "Oh. That kind of danger."
Simon's back hurt, his shoulders and upper arms were exhausted, and the still-healing muscles in his wounded leg were protesting loudly -- it was the longest he'd been on his feet since he was shot -- but he felt better than he had in months. He felt useful, for a change. He knew the captain had supposedly taken him on as a medic, but there wasn't all that much for him to do with only nine people on board, and most of those people refused his help unless their lives were at stake. He could count on the fingers of one hand the number of times he'd really been needed, and one of those times was when he had been wounded, himself.
In the absence of any real medical duties, his only job was to keep an eye on his sister, and he wasn't very good at that. She could read minds -- something he'd just started being able to admit to himself, though he wasn't quite ready to discuss it with the others -- which meant she was always at least one step ahead of him. He didn't stand a chance of keeping track of her, unless she wanted him keeping track of her.
The others sometimes teased him about being a budding criminal mastermind, after the heist on Ariel, but he didn't think he had any actual criminal abilities. He just knew hospitals, inside and out, and had been able to use that knowledge. He didn't think he could come up with a way to rob a bank, or anything like that, and there was a limited opportunity for robbing hospitals.
Which meant that, for the most part, he just took up space, used up oxygen and ate the food on Serenity. Worse, his very presence put the rest of the crew in more danger. They weren't exactly on the good side of the Feds due to their line of work, but the Alliance treated petty criminals and smugglers in a far different way than they treated people who harbored fugitives, especially those who'd done what Simon had.
To be honest, he wasn't sure why the captain had taken him on. He still suspected, deep down inside, that there was some dark ulterior motive. True, he'd had multiple opportunities to turn Simon and River in or just get rid of them, and instead he'd come to their rescue, but men like Mal Reynolds didn't do charity work. He wasn't likely to keep someone around who couldn't pull his own weight.
That was why Simon was so glad of this opportunity. True, he had the chance to practice surgical skills he feared would grow rusty, and he was glad to be able to help these people, but most of all, he liked being able to give something back to his shipmates, who'd risked their necks for him often enough. Some sore muscles and an impending headache were a small enough price to pay for feeling useful.
A nearby explosion that rocked the bank building shook him out of his thoughts. Instinctively he bent over his patient to shield the open incision from the plaster falling from the ceiling. "They came back," he whispered, then looked up at Mal to see the captain's reaction.
Mal frowned, then his eyes widened. "The ship," he said. "They'll be here after Serenity."
"Go." Simon felt funny giving his captain an order, but he wanted to make it clear that he was okay with being deserted, under these circumstances.
"Zoe, Jayne, you're with me. Preacher, you stay here and help the doctor."
"You armed, son?" the Shepherd asked Simon, who shook his head. "Neither am I." He addressed the captain, "I'll come to the ship with you to arm up, then get back here."
All of them hurried out of the bank. A minute or so later, Jayne came back. He bent and pulled something out of his boot, then handed it to Simon. It was a small pistol. "This here's Henrietta, my second-best boot gun. She don't hold too many shots, so only shoot if you have to and if somethin's real close."
"Uh, thanks," Simon replied, but Jayne was already out the door. Simon looked at the gun and muttered, "Pleased to meet you, Henrietta." He made sure the safety was on, then stuck the small gun into his pocket, stripped off his gloves, put on a fresh pair and went back to work. It was the first time he could recall that he'd been armed while doing surgery. He had a feeling it wouldn't be the last.
It was just like the war, all over again, Mal thought as he ran back to Serenity. He didn't see the enemy on the ground. They appeared to just be flying back and forth overhead, providing an aerial bombardment. He figured Serenity was safe. If they were after the ship, they wouldn't risk damaging it. No, the bombs were just to soften up any opposition so all they'd have to do would be land, send over a boarding party, do a little hand-to-hand with what was left of the crew, then take off in their new prize.
Of course, then they were bound to get an unpleasant surprise, unless Kaylee was even better than Mal realized. Serenity wouldn't be goin' nowhere for at least a few more hours.
Wash met them at the cargo bay ramp. "I guess you noticed," he said.
"The roof almost fallin' in on us was a pretty good clue." He looked over to where Book was studying the weapons cabinet. "Preacher, take a shotgun for the doc. That way it don't matter so much that he can't hit the broad side of a barn." Zoe came over to them and put one hand on her husband's shoulder while she hefted her rifle with the other. "Zoe, remind me that we have got to give the doc some shooting lessons next time we have free time on a world where we're not fightin' for our lives."
She nodded, and he knew without a doubt that she would remind him. Jayne joined Mal, Wash and Zoe, with Vera cradled lovingly in his arms. The merc's relationship with his guns was a bit on the creepy side at times, but it had sure saved Mal's skin more than once. Another explosion rocked the ship. That one seemed a bit closer. "Preacher, get back over to the bank. I don't like the idea of the doctor bein' unarmed over there by himself."
"He ain't unarmed," Jayne said. "I left Henrietta with 'im." All of them turned to stare at him, and Mal could have sworn he blushed a bit as he explained, "Henrietta's my second-best boot gun."
Book took off with more weapons than any preacher should know how to use, and Zoe asked, "What do we do now, sir?"
"Now's the time when we could really use a good surface-to-air missile. Unfortunately, I don't believe we got one, not unless any of you are holdin' out on me." He looked at Jayne. He wouldn't have been at all surprised to find that Jayne might have a rocket launcher under his bed, but the big merc just sighed and shook his head. Mal had a feeling he knew what just moved to the top of Jayne's shopping -- or stealing -- list. "Okay, then, I guess we'll have to make do. I'd much rather scare 'em off before they hit ground than fight 'em down here."
He looked around the cargo bay for something they might be able to turn into a weapon and spotted something in the mule's trailer. It was a piece of plastic pipe. He had no idea why Kaylee had wanted it because he didn't think there was a need for something like that on the ship, though he suspected she just thought it was pretty. It had a shimmery look to it. He walked over to the mule and picked up the pipe, studying it for a moment, then turned to Zoe. "We still got those fireworks we stole on Unification Day a couple years ago?"
She smiled, as if recalling a fond memory. "Yes sir, I believe we do. It was a real pity those citizens didn't get to have their fireworks display."
Wash was shaking his head. "You're going to attack these marauding space pirates with fireworks?"
"Nope. But we may be able to make us a rocket with fireworks."
"That's crazy. It'd take a miracle just to hit them, at the speeds they're flying and with a manually launched rocket."
Mal turned to glare at him. "Could you do the math to aim it?"
He blinked. "I could try. You're really going to do this?"
"I'm gonna try. Jayne, you've got lookout. Wash, Zoe, let's build ourselves a rocket."
There was another nearby boom. "They're getting closer," Zoe said.
Up above, Inara came out of her shuttle and called down to the cargo bay, "Mal, what's going on here?"
"Pirate attack. Nothing to worry about. You armed?"
"What?" She started coming down the steps from the catwalk.
"It looks like the same folks that hit the town are coming back. We aim to stop 'em before they land and try to take Serenity, but you'd probably best be armed. Pick something out of the cabinet."
He couldn't quite make out what she was muttering under her breath, but it sounded suspiciously like, "Why did it take me so long to decide to leave these lunatics?"
Simon finished bandaging his patient, then realized he'd have to wait for Book to get back to help him move the patient to post-op and move the next patient to the operating desk. It was probably for the best, anyway. He needed a break. He sprayed disinfectant on his instruments, put them back in their case and started to head to where the pre-op patients waited, but had to grab the side of the desk for support. His injured leg had stiffened up on him during all those hours of standing. He walked around the desk for a while until he could be sure the leg would take his weight, then limped over to where the patients lay.
The one who looked like she needed help most quickly was a young woman, though as he eased himself down to sit next to her on the floor, he realized she was younger than he thought, little more than a girl. In fact, she looked about the same age River had been when she left home for the Academy. Her eyes fluttered open as he took her wrist to check her pulse. She appeared to be of Chinese descent, with lovely almond-shaped eyes and glossy dark hair. "Hello," she whispered.
"Hi. What's your name?"
She blinked sleepily, then said, "Chia-Ying."
He gave her what he hoped was a reassuring smile. "Hello, Chia-Ying, I'm --" and then he stopped himself. It was second nature to him to introduce himself to his patients, especially the young ones who might be afraid of doctors, but in this new life, his name was dangerous. "I'm a doctor," he finished lamely. "I'm going to try to make you feel better. Are you in much pain?"
"A little. But it was worse before. The lady gave me some medicine."
"That's good. Can you tell me where you were hurt?" With his helpers absent, it looked like he was going to have to start from scratch with his evaluation.
"My leg broke."
He folded the blanket back and saw immediately that her left leg was bent at an unhealthy angle. It looked like a complicated fracture of both the tibia and fibula, but fortunately, the skin wasn't broken. She was very lucky. He ran his hands as gently as possible over the swollen area around the break, probing to determine the extent of the injury. In the absence of a scanner, he had to rely on his sense of touch.
"Doctor?" she asked while he worked.
"Mmm huh?" It looked like she was still getting good circulation to her foot.
"My brother was here, too. My little brother. Do you know if he's okay?"
He'd only worked on one child, and it had been essentially futile. The boy had multiple organ failure, and more trauma than a whole team could have coped with. He normally made it a policy never to lie to a patient, but he knew what it would do to him if he got news of his sister's death, and the last thing he needed right now was a hysterically grieving patient. "I don't know for sure," he said. "I'm afraid when there are this many patients, I only see the wounds, not the people. When we get everyone here fixed up, then we'll see if we can find your brother, okay?"
She nodded and sniffed back tears. "Okay. I was watching him for my folks, and all this happened."
He took her hand and looked her in the eye. "This is not your fault. These were some very bad people who came here and did this, and there's nothing you could have done to stop it." He was tempted to tell her he had a younger sister and he understood how she felt, but it was too dangerous. He doubted she would deliberately turn him in, but she wouldn't understand that it would be bad to tell someone about the young doctor who'd helped her who had a younger sister.
There was a rumble from a not-so-distant explosion, and the lights flickered, dimmed, then came back up. "They're coming back, aren't they?"
"I'm afraid so. But I won't let them hurt you again."
The door opened and he whirled, reaching for the gun in his pocket, but he saw that it was only Book before he even managed to get the gun clear. The Shepherd carried an armload of guns. "We are now ready to defend ourselves," he declared, setting most of the guns down, though Simon noticed he still had a couple on him. Then he came over to where Simon was sitting with Chia-Ying. "Need a hand here?"
"Yeah, I've got a fracture I've got to reduce and splint." Simon turned to his patient. "Chia-Ying, this is Shepherd Book. He's going to help me with this." He turned back to Book. "I need you to hold her still. I need something to pull against." The Shepherd got in position, cradling the girl in his arms. Simon moved down to the girl's feet and got a good grip on her ankle. "Okay, sweetheart, this is going to hurt a lot, even with the medicine, but it will be over with in just a second." He caught Book's eye to let him know to brace himself, then he yanked hard on the leg and felt the bones pop back into place.
The girl yelped once, and tears trickled down her cheeks, but she whispered, "That wasn't so bad."
Simon gave her a grin as he splinted her leg. "Oh yeah? Then I must not have done it right." She smiled back at him. "Now, you're going to have to stay off of this for at least six weeks, got that? It's also going to hurt you for a while, but I'll leave you some pills to take for that." He dragged himself back to his feet, wishing he could stay seated a little longer but knowing he still had patients to tend to.
As he started to limp away, the girl said, "Your leg's hurt, too."
"Yeah, it got hurt a couple weeks ago. I'm still supposed to be taking it easy. See, this is what happens when you don't listen to your doctor."
"But you are a doctor!"
"Don't worry, he's a very good doctor, even if he can't take care of himself," Book put in with a wry grin.
She started to giggle, but there was another loud explosion that shook the building. "They're getting closer," Book said softly. Simon nodded.
"I don't see how I'm supposed to work under these conditions," Kaylee grumbled as yet another explosion rattled the ship, making her drop the part she was trying to fit into its slot in the engine. As brave as she was trying to act, though, she still felt scared. She couldn't help but wonder if those pirates would be anything like that bounty hunter. She'd always thought that the captain and the others would protect her from people like that, but they hadn't been able to.
Then again, it had been the girl sitting next to her, still holding the flashlight on just the right spot, who'd managed to help her more than anybody had. Maybe she should feel encouraged by the fact that River was with her, and River always knew when danger was coming, even before it got there.
"Kaylee?" Kaylee looked up at the sound of Inara's voice to see the Companion standing in the hatch.
"What is it, 'Nara?"
"Just making sure you two are okay. Mal's working on a plan to fight these pirates off. You know he won't just give up Serenity." The expression on her face told Kaylee exactly what she thought of the captain's plan, but Kaylee suspected that was just for show. She had a pretty good idea that the captain and Inara were secretly in love with each other and trying to hide it because it would only complicate matters. It was all so very romantic.
"The captain always comes through," Kaylee said, trying once more to put that part in place. "Now I just gotta finish workin' on this engine so we can escape from here."
"How much longer do you think it will take?"
Kaylee sighed. "At least two more hours, give or take. That is, if we don't have too many more explosions like the last one."
Inara nodded. "I'll let Mal know." Then she was gone in a swirl of silk.
Kaylee went back to work. She'd just managed to get that stubborn part in its groove when River whimpered and dropped the flashlight. Kaylee swore as she dropped the part yet again, but she forgot about being angry when she got a look at River's face. The younger girl had gone pale, and her eyes brimmed with tears. "River, honey, what is it?"
"Simon. He's in danger."
Kaylee jumped up and hit the comm to link down to the cargo bay. "Captain!" she shouted.
His voice replied a few seconds later. "What is it, Kaylee?"
"River said Simon's in trouble. You might want to check on that."
"I'm sending Jayne over right now. Tell River thanks for the warning."
Kaylee turned toward River. "Hear that? Everything's gonna be okay, you'll see." She really wondered what River did see, and just how bad it was.
Simon was just about to start work on the next patient when the bank's front door slammed open and Winthrop stuck his head inside. "You have to get out now, the building's on fire."
"Fire? What?" Simon stammered.
"That last bomb hit the end of this row, and all the buildings are connected." He spit on the ground. "That's the last time I buy a gorram pre-fab town. The fire's spreading."
"The patients -- we have to get them out, and most of them can't walk. I'll need everyone you can spare to help move them."
Winthrop nodded, then left, letting the door slam shut behind him.
Simon dragged himself back to his feet and shouted to the room at large, "The building's on fire. If you think you can get yourself out of here, then go, now! Help someone else if you're able."
Book was already lifting a nearby woman. Simon turned to the girl whose leg he'd just set, knelt, scooped her into his arms, forced himself to stand even as his sore leg threatened to give way under the extra weight, and then hurried toward the door. He set the girl down outside, in the middle of the main street, then looked back toward the building. Winthrop hadn't been exaggerating. The far end of the row of buildings was blazing. Only then did Simon realize that the sky was growing darker. He'd lost count of how many hours he'd been working inside the windowless building.
He turned to head back into the bank and nearly jumped out of his skin when he found himself face-to-face with Jayne. "What are you doing here?" he asked.
"Mal sent me. Your sis said you needed help."
This was no time to evaluate his sister's abilities or the crew's ready acceptance of them lately. He just said, "She was right. We need to get the patients out of the building."
He lost all track of time as he ran in and out of the bank, sometimes carrying the smaller patients, sometimes carrying one end of a stretcher, sometimes with one or two semi-ambulatory patients leaning on him. Meanwhile, Book, Jayne and some of the townspeople helped. Every time he went inside, the air seemed thicker and smokier. On his last trip inside, flames were starting to lick at the wall separating the bank from the next building.
It was difficult to see inside with all the smoke, but he couldn't see any additional patients. Instead, he started gathering as many of his medical cases as he could carry. By the time he made it out of the bank, the flames had begun to spread to the ceiling, and his lungs were aching from the effort of breathing the smoky air. The air outside wasn't all that much better, but there was a hint of a breeze. Someone caught him as he stumbled on the edge of the raised sidewalk, then all but carried him to the center of the town's main street, where he sank to the ground and put his head between his knees while he tried to catch his breath.
He still hadn't recovered when Book was on the ground beside him. He looked angrier than Simon could recall ever seeing the usually serene preacher. "Just what do you think you were doing in there, young man?" he demanded.
Simon tried to speak, coughed, then tried again. "Had to get my medical equipment," he said, his voice rough and hoarse from the smoke. "It's not like we could replace it out here."
Book patted him on the back. "I suppose you could always rob another hospital."
"You are never going to let me forget that, are you?"
Jayne came over to them. His face was smudged with soot, which meant he didn't look all that different from normal. "You all set here? I'd better get back to the ship."
Simon nodded. "Thank you for your help. We couldn't have done it without you." And that was the truth. There had been times when Jayne had carried two patients out at the same time.
"Yeah, well. See you back at the boat." If Simon wasn't severely mistaken, Jayne was embarrassed. Come to think of it, he'd acted that way ever since the Ariel heist, any time Simon said anything remotely nice to him. Which meant it wasn't that often, not often enough to remark on, anyway.
He let himself take a couple more deep breaths, then started to stand. "I'd better check to see if being moved hurt any of our patients."
Book stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. "Why don't you rest a minute or two? You're no good to these people if you collapse on them."
As much as Simon felt like he should resist, he didn't have the energy, and he knew he could use the break. Nearby, there was another explosion.
Winthrop walked past and asked, "You get everyone out, son?"
"Yes sir, I believe so." Simon looked around at the patients scattered all over Main Street. "But we're making quite a target here. Is there anywhere we can take these people where they'll be safe?"
Winthrop scratched his beard. "Well, if we take 'em inside, we'll just have to go through this again when that building gets set on fire."
"You don't have, oh, I don't know, a root cellar or something like that?"
Winthrop laughed, then kicked at the ground with his toe. "See that, son? Solid rock. They managed to give this asteroid an atmosphere, but nothin' will grow here. Why do you think our crop is ship parts? It would take high explosives to dig a root cellar, and then there'd be nothing to put in it."
Simon nodded, but he still didn't like it. They might as well move the patients into position to form a nice bull's eye, and he doubted Henrietta would be much help if the pirates decided to go after the patients to finish the job from their last raid.
Mal and Wash had just finished piecing together their makeshift rocket when Jayne returned. He took one look at the device, made a face and said, "Is that it? Don't look like much."
"It isn't much," Wash said in that droll tone that made Mal want to hit him.
"It is brilliant in its simplicity," Mal insisted. "See, fireworks to propel it. That there --" he pointed to yet another part he'd swiped from Kaylee's stash, a sharp, pointy piece of metal "-- will pierce their hull, and then there are some grenades to make it explode when it hits. We aim it by sending it up through that bit of tubing. It's a powerful, deadly bottle rocket."
"Like I said, it isn't much."
Mal turned to Wash. "I thought you said you could aim this thing and make it work."
"I said I'd try. There's no way I'd guarantee that this would work. It's nuts."
"You got a better plan?"
"No, Mal, I don't."
"Well, fine, then. Shut up and start doing the calculations to aim this thing." Muttering under his breath, Wash started pushing buttons on the handheld encyclopedia they'd borrowed from the doctor's room, and Mal turned back to Jayne. "Everything okay back there?"
"Yeah. The building got hit by a bomb on one end and was on fire. We had to get the patients out."
"Good. Give a shout up to Kaylee and let the girls know."
Once Jayne was gone up the ramp into the cargo bay, Zoe came over to Mal and said softly, "Sir, are you sure this will work?"
"Of course I'm not sure," Mal replied, equally softly. "But way I see it, it may be our best chance. I suspect these pirates just hit folk what can't hit back. We hit back, and they may just change their minds."
She didn't look too convinced, but all she did was nod and say, "If you say so, sir."
Kaylee felt like she was finally making progress on the engine. The explosions seemed farther away, and now that she knew Simon was safe, she was able to concentrate better on her work. It helped that River was calmer, too. She made a good helper, always there with just the right tool or part at just the right time. Kaylee had figured out that all she had to do was picture the tool or part in her mind, and River would get the right one. She imagined it would be kind of freaky to be the one with other people's thoughts in her head, but it seemed like when River was in one of her saner spells, she could come in right handy.
Unfortunately, this sane spell didn't look like it would last long. River was shaking and whispering under her breath again. "What is it, River?"
"They're coming, they're coming, they're coming."
"Who's comin'?"
"Them. They take what they want."
"You mean, the pirates, right? We know they're comin'. The captain has a plan to take care of us, don't worry."
River started sobbing. "No, no, no. They take what they want, and they take you where you don't want to go."
"I'll tell the captain. He'll take care of it."
Kaylee hit the comm button and called down to the cargo bay. "Captain?" There was no response. "Zoe? Wash? Jayne? Anybody?" She turned back to River. "I imagine they're all outside. You stay put here, and I'll go check, okay?"
Still shaking, River nodded.
Kaylee hated to lose good working time like this, but she did feel like she owed River her life, and River did have an alarming tendency to be right about things like this, so she went without complaint down the stairs into the common area, then went through the hatch into the cargo bay. She'd almost made it to the ramp when she heard a sound. She turned, but didn't see anything. With a shrug, she stepped outside to where the others were all working around something that looked a lot like that piece of pretty tubing she'd found in the junkyard. "Captain?" she called out.
"Aren't you supposed to be workin' on the engine?" he called back.
"Nobody answered the comm. River thinks they're coming after us. Just thought I'd let you know."
"Tell River we have it under control."
She wasn't so sure about that, especially judging by the look on Wash's face, but she said, "Okay," and went back inside. There she heard the sound again. She looked behind a crate and saw a large, brown cat curled up in a pile of netting. "Hey there," she said in her most gentle voice. "What are you doing in here?" As she got closer, she saw that its fur was singed in spots. "I guess you were getting away from the fire and the noise, huh? Well, it's not any safer for you here, I imagine." She knew she should shoo the cat away. The captain hated the idea of having critters on board. She'd tried more than once to get him to let her take in some stray she'd found planetside, and the only stray of any kind she'd ever been allowed to keep was Simon. But she couldn't bear to send this poor creature back out to where there was fire and bombing.
With a quick glance around to make sure no one was watching, she knelt next to the cat. "I'm just gonna pick you up and take you with me to somewhere safe, so don't claw me, okay? I'm not gonna hurt you." The cat tensed a bit as she reached for it, but it let her pick it up. Cradling it against her chest, she hurried through the cargo bay to the aft hatch. She found a big towel in the infirmary -- she doubted Simon would mind -- and carried it and the cat up to the engine room.
"Hey, River, look what I found!" she said as she entered the engine room. Maybe the cat would help distract River from her worries. Kaylee knelt on the floor in the back corner of the engine room -- where the captain was least likely to see anything -- put the towel down and bunched it up to make a bed, then put the cat down. "I think he was scared from all the bombing and fire."
"Very scared," River agreed, nodding her head. Kaylee couldn't help but wonder if that was because she knew what the cat was thinking or if she was just guessing.
"You stay here with him, I'll go get him some water." She left River staring eerily at the cat and hurried to the kitchen to get a small bowl and fill it with water, which she brought back to the engine room and put in front of the cat. "Here you go, little guy. I bet you're thirsty." Sure enough, the cat got up and started lapping at the bowl of water. Kaylee smiled as she watched. "I wonder what your name is, and if someone is missing you right now," she mused out loud.
"Doesn't have a name, doesn't belong to anyone. He's just a cat," River said in a sing-songy voice. "He likes you, though."
"Really? Okay then, I guess you're just Cat."
"Daddy won't let you keep him," River said.
Kaylee wondered if she was talking about the captain or about her and Simon's dad. Neither of them talked about home much. Kaylee always just figured it made Simon too homesick to speak of it.
"I don't plan on keepin' him, just keepin' him safe for a bit, maybe get him to a better world, you know?" But deep down inside, she wished she could keep him. That was one thing she missed most about being on Serenity, away from home. She really missed her pets. "We should probably have your brother take a look at him, once he's through takin' care of all those hurt people. I think he got burned in a couple of places." Kaylee scratched the cat behind the ears, then said, "And I guess that engine ain't fixin' itself. Back to work."
Mal watched impatiently as Wash adjusted the makeshift rocket for what seemed like the hundredth time, checking the screen on the handheld every so often. "Okay, that should do it, assuming they don't alter their course and speed all that much on their next pass," he said.
Mal nodded and said, "Jayne?"
Jayne lit a match, then touched that match to a longer stick and knelt next to the rocket. The ground trembled as the pirate ship flew overhead yet again.
"Ready?" Wash said, then at Jayne's nod said, "Three, two, one, now!" Jayne touched the lit end of his stick to the rocket's fuse, and seconds later, the rocket shot through the tubing up into the sky toward the pirate ship.
They all held their breaths as the rocket soared heavenward. There was a slight puff of smoke and flames on one wing of the pirate ship.
"Damn," Wash muttered.
The ship wobbled, then pitched groundward. "No, it worked. It worked. They're comin' down."
"Didn't destroy the ship, though," Zoe remarked, her voice as calm and even as usual.
"So? We brought 'em down."
"That might not be such a good thing."
"How do you figure that?"
"If they want to get back in the air, they're gonna need a ship."
Mal stared at her, then looked up at Serenity, then back to Zoe. "Oh. And you couldn't have brought that up before we shot 'em out of the sky?"
"Sorry, sir, didn't think of it until now."
"Okay, guess we'd better arm up and defend the fort." They all ran into the ship and gathered hand weapons. Mal hit the comm button and called up to the engine room. "Kaylee? Lock the engine room door, and you two stay in there until I give you the all-clear, dong ma?"
"What's happenin', Cap'n?" she asked.
"Don't you worry about it. Just sit tight. We'll take care of it."
They sealed the airlock door, then took their positions on the ramp, ready to defend the ship when the pirates came.
They couldn't help but hear -- and feel -- the sound when the pirate ship hit the ground. Book held his breath, but didn't hear the explosion he hoped for. That meant there were very likely live pirates on the ground, and they'd be looking for a ship.
He looked to the doctor, who had gone back to work looking after his patients. The boy looked concerned about the patient he was currently tending. He was listening carefully to the patient's chest with his stethoscope, and he was frowning. "A problem?" Book asked.
Simon pulled the stethoscope from his ears and hooked it around his neck as he stood and walked away from the patient. "I don't think the fire helped much with that one. His lung was injured in the first place. But that's the only one who seems to be worse off. We were lucky."
Book had a distinct feeling that the worst wasn't over, and Simon would soon have a few more patients. The rattle of gunfire from not too far away proved him right. Both of them turned in the general direction of Serenity. "They'll try to take the ship," Simon whispered.
"The captain will need our help," Book said. "Come on, son."
"What? No, we should defend the patients."
"They won't be coming here. The only thing around here they didn't get the last time is Serenity." He bent and handed the doctor a shotgun.
Simon eyed it. "When did you get this out of the building? You yelled at me for going after the medical supplies."
"Let's not argue about that now." He pointed to the shotgun the doctor held. "This is pretty straightforward. Just point in the general direction of the person you want to hit. The shot will disburse pretty widely. You don't have to aim all that carefully and you can still slow someone down or stop him."
"And then it will be a mess to clean up after. It seems kind of like a waste of time to try to put bullets in someone when I'll just be the one pulling them out again."
"Hit them right, and you won't have to bother."
Simon's eyes narrowed. "Aren't you supposed to be a preacher? I didn't know violence was part of your creed. Isn't there a commandment about not killing?"
"Depending on the translation you look at, that particular commandment could be taken to be specifically against murder. Killing in defense of your home and family isn't the same thing." The boy looked ill. He wasn't protesting, but he was clearly not happy about this. Book couldn't afford to have him be shaky in these circumstances. He grabbed Simon by the shoulders and said, "Listen to me. Your sister is on that ship, and I know what you've done to protect her. That ship is the only home you've got right now. Those people have risked a great deal to take you in and keep you safe. And now you're going to do what it takes to help them. Is that understood?"
Simon looked him in the eye, set his jaw and nodded.
"Then come on. We'll be the surprise reserves, for when they need us. Find something nearby to hide behind and shoot when I give the signal."
Gold help the captain and crew if their only hope was a doctor and a preacher.
Mal crouched within the shelter of the airlock and fired at the attacking pirates. It was a close call which group was more desperate. If the pirates didn't take Serenity, they'd be stuck here with the people they'd already injured until their allies got to them. If Mal and his crew didn't hold out, they'd lose their home and their livelihood. The pirates had them outnumbered, but there was a good chance that the Serenity crew was better armed. It might just come down to who had the most ammunition, and then after that they'd fight man-to-man.
At the moment, shots were ringing out fast and furious. The pirates had Mal and his crew pretty much pinned down, so the best they could do was stick their heads out every so often to fire off a shot. This could go on forever if something didn't happen to shake things up. Unfortunately, he was at a complete loss as to how to shake things up.
A shotgun blast rang out from behind the pirates, causing them all to turn and giving Mal and the others the chance to step forward and get in a few good shots. It was just the sort of shake-up Mal had wanted, but he had no idea where it had come from. At the moment, he really didn't care. He managed to drop one of the pirates, while Jayne and Vera blasted a hole in another.
The pirates' manpower may have been reduced somewhat, but they were also a little more riled up. They renewed their attack in a volley of gunfire that sent the Serenity crew ducking for cover.
"Sir, I hope you have a plan," Zoe shouted.
"I'm working on it."
There was another shotgun blast, this time coming from the other side. "Was that it?" Zoe asked as the pirates lost concentration again. They all turned to see who was attacking them from behind.
Instead of answering, Mal just fired, taking advantage of the brief opportunity.
Simon crouched behind a rock and tried to stop his hands from shaking. He didn't think he'd actually hit anything when he'd fired, but he suspected he'd distracted the attackers a little bit, which should help the captain and the others. Unfortunately, his shot had caught the attention of one of the pirates, who was coming to investigate.
He slid Henrietta out of his pocket and took the safety off. Book had warned him that the shotgun wouldn't be as effective at close range, so he'd have to wait for the pirate to get close, and then use the little handgun. He knew he'd have to kill or disable with one shot if he was going to get out of this alive.
By this point, he was sure the pirate could find him by the sound of his pounding heart. He reminded himself of Book's pep talk. His sister's life and their only chance at safety were at stake. He'd never shot a human being before, but there was a first time for everything. All in all, he'd rather be taking bullets out of people.
He saw the shadow first, cast by Serenity's lights. Holding his breath, he counted to three, then rose above the rock and shot point-blank into the pirate's chest. The man fell, and Simon sank back behind his sheltering rock. If he thought he was shaking before, now he could barely keep a grasp on his gun. He hoped they wouldn't need him to do anything useful anytime soon.
He'd known ever since he started looking for River that he was bound to have to resort to violence someday. He'd wondered ever since he'd held that lawman at gunpoint back when he first came on board if he could have actually pulled the trigger if the captain hadn't shown up when he did. Now he had to resist the urge to crawl out and see if the man he'd shot still lived, if he could be helped. One key fact about his new life that he kept forgetting was that he was only a doctor part-time these days. The rest of the time, he was a fugitive, a Serenity crewmember, a friend, a big brother and sometimes even a thief and fighter.
Now he was something else, a killer. And the really disturbing thing was that his baby sister still had a higher body count than he did.
Mal and his crew made short work of the rest of the pirates, but even when the guns went silent, he knew this wasn't the end. Winthrop had said they were building a fleet, so there was a pretty good bet that there were more pirates out there, and that they'd be coming back to see what had become of one of their ships.
This was looking like a worse and worse plan. Trouble was, he still couldn't think of anything better.
He caught a glimpse of movement out of the corner of his eye and spun, his gun raised, but he relaxed a second later when he saw that it was only the Shepherd, streaked in sweat and soot, a gun in his hand. Mal was less startled by the next movement he detected, coming from the other side of the ship. This time it was the doctor, his face pale beneath the soot. He, too, held a gun. Mal believed it was the first time he'd ever seen someone wearing a stethoscope around his neck while carrying a shotgun.
"So, it was you two coming to our rescue," Mal remarked.
"Oh, I don't know about rescue. We merely provided a distraction," the Shepherd said with obvious false modesty.
"What about you, Doc? You usin' that thing to listen for anyone sneaking up on us?"
Simon blinked, then noticed the stethoscope. "Oh. Forgot about that." He pulled it off and stuffed it into one of his pockets. Mal noticed that his hands were shaking. "Are they gone?"
Mal looked up to the sky, but he didn't notice an approaching ship. "For the time being, I suppose. But I imagine there'll be more on their way."
"No, there won't." At the sound of the new voice, all of them -- even the doctor -- turned with guns at the ready. But it was just Winthrop. "We sent a distress signal to the Feds during the first attack yesterday. They just now showed up and are tracking down the rest of the fleet. Thanks to you folks, we were able to hold off this bunch long enough for reinforcements to get here."
"Feds? You mean the Alliance?" Simon asked, going even paler. Mal put a hand on his shoulder to settle him down. The boy had looked ready to jump out of his skin even before Winthrop shared his good news. Now he looked more than a little eager to use that shotgun some more.
"We probably aren't real popular with the Feds right now," Mal said, trying to keep his voice casual. "We pulled a job not too long ago that made us pretty hot for the time being, so the Feds ain't exactly the cavalry for us."
Winthrop laughed. "Just as I thought, that was you who pulled that heist on Ariel. That's where you got all those medical supplies." He shook his head. "Damn, Mal, but that was something. Everyone's talking about it. Before long, they'll be writing songs about it, you'll see. Where did you ever get the brains and the guts to pull off a stunt like that?"
"Ah, the occasional stroke of brilliance hits all of us. But the fact remains that we don't really want to be caught here by the Feds when they come to check on their citizens, and we don't want to get roped in with all the pirates when we try to get away past the Feds. We have ourselves a bit of a dilemma here."
"I figure you could probably lay low in our junkyard." Winthrop held up a hand to stall Mal's protest. "I'm not saying your ship is junk, but sit down among all the other ships out there, and who could fly past and figure out which one still flies?"
"That is a good idea, assuming we can move that much." Mal opened the airlock door, stepped inside the cargo bay and hit the comm button. "Kaylee? How's it coming up there?"
"I'm gettin' there. Are the pirates gone?"
"All clear. Can we get off the ground?"
"Don't think we could break atmo just yet."
"That ain't what I'm askin'. Can you move us as far as the junkyard? We need to hide for a little while."
"Sure, we got enough thrust to get off the ground and move that far. Why? What's up?"
"I'll explain later." Mal turned to the rest of the crew. "Wash, find us a good spot and put us there. Everyone on board. Doc, you and I'll go get your equipment. We'll take the mule and meet you all in the junkyard. As soon as you get there, power down, and I mean everything. No lights, no nothing, don't even move around much or talk too loud." Wash took off up to the bridge, and Zoe set about putting the weapons away.
Simon pulled something out of his pocket and handed it to Jayne. "Thank you. She came in handy. There's a round missing. I guess I owe you a bullet." Mal noticed that the item Jayne now held was a small handgun. That must be the infamous Henrietta. He couldn't help but wonder if that bullet was currently somewhere vital in the body of a dead pirate. That would explain why the doctor was even twitchier than usual. Simon handed his shotgun over to Zoe, then climbed onto the back of the mule.
Mal got on the driver's seat, then called to Winthrop, "Hey, Jeff, want a ride back into town?"
They'd barely cleared the ramp before it raised and Serenity lifted off the ground, running lights off. Back in the middle of town, Mal concentrated on loading the medical gear onto the mule with Winthrop's help while Simon took one more look at his patients. Mal gave him a few minutes while he wrapped things up with Winthrop. "Sorry to bring you more trouble," he said. "I doubt they'd have come back if we hadn't been here."
"Don't blame yourself, Mal. I imagine they'd have come back after junkyard parts, or just to make more of a mess. I'm just glad I was able to get help for my people. We're real lucky you had a doctor with you."
Speaking of which ... "Hey, Doc, let's move it. You don't wanna be caught here any more than we do. You weren't exactly innocent in that particular heist," Mal called out. Innocent, hell, the boy had planned the gorram thing, and it still grated a bit that what had been their best take ever, the job that would go down in history, had been planned by an amateur on his first try. Either the doctor had the makings of a true criminal genius or Mal was as bad at being a criminal as Inara said he was.
Winthrop shook Simon's hand and thanked him, then Mal and Simon got on the mule to head to the junkyard. Mal drove slowly, without the headlights on. It wouldn't do to lead any orbiting Feds right to them. As he drove, Mal took advantage of the darkness to ask a question he felt was rather crucial. "You get a kill back there?"
There was a long pause, then an answer. "I believe so."
"How you feel about that?"
"Not as bad as I feel when I lose a patient."
Mal nodded, even though he knew the doctor probably couldn't see him in the darkness. It was easy to forget that the boy was well acquainted with death. He was just used to seeing it from a different perspective. He was trying to stop it instead of cause it, but sometimes the results were the same, and trying to stop it was probably bloodier and messier work. Putting the bullet in was a lot cleaner and neater than getting it out.
When they got to Serenity, they found that Wash and the others had outdone themselves. They'd arranged bits of junk around Serenity so it looked like the ship had been part of the junkyard forever. It reminded Mal of the first time he saw her. Once he drove into the cargo bay, he closed the airlock doors manually, but left the cargo ramp down.
Inside, the ship was quiet and dark. Jayne, Inara, Book and Zoe were gathered in the passenger lounge with a single candle set on the coffee table providing a feeble light. Zoe stood as Mal and Simon approached. "Wash is up on the bridge, keeping an eye out," she reported. "And, yes, he is making sure he's out of sight. Kaylee's still working on the engine, and River is holding the flashlight for her so she can keep working."
"Good. Maybe we'll be ready to go by the time the Feds clear out. Everyone take it easy. There ain't a lot we can do while we're sittin' here playing dead."
The night passed with agonizing slowness. As tired as all of them were, they were too edgy to sleep. Most of them stayed in the passenger lounge, where the candlelight couldn't be seen through any windows. Jayne cleaned his weapons while Zoe and Inara played checkers. The preacher was in his room, most likely praying for the souls of the dead pirates and for those who'd killed them, knowing him. Simon sat in a chair in the passenger lounge, giving a good impression of pacing restlessly for someone who was sitting still. He practically quivered with nerves, to the point he was making Mal jumpy. After a couple of hours of that, Zoe said with her usual calm and the slightest touch of menace, "Doctor, if you don't settle down, I will settle you down."
"Oh. Sorry. I didn't realize." He clasped his hands together in an obvious attempt to keep them steady. "How much longer do you think they'll stay around?"
"Don't worry so much, Doc. They ain't lookin' for us. We just have to sit tight until they leave." Mal decided this was as good a time as any to head up to the bridge and get word from Wash. The interior of the ship was pitch black, but he knew every inch of the ship, so it was no effort at all for him to get up to the bridge. He stayed in the doorway to talk to Wash, who sat beneath the console. "Any news?"
"Nothing. They made one pass over, and I believe a shuttle landed in the town. They're still there. But nothing's heading in our direction. We seem to be doing an adequate impression of a hunk of junk."
"Don't let Kaylee hear you say that."
Mal then headed aft to the engine room to check on Kaylee's progress. "How's it coming, little Kaylee?" he asked as he stepped through the hatch.
She jumped, like she was startled, then moved forward to stand just in front of him. River remained seated on the floor, playing with the flashlight. "Goin' just fine, Cap'n. We should be ready to go long before the Feds clear out."
"Need any help?"
"Nope. Got it covered. Thanks, though. Now I better get back to work."
She seemed almost as jumpy as the doctor, and he couldn't help but wonder what was up. She was acting like she was hiding something -- probably just the fact that repairs weren't as far along as she claimed. "Yeah, you get back to work. I want to take off just as soon as we can."
"Yes, sir."
He made his way back down the stairs, feeling his way in the darkness until he saw the soft glow of Inara's candle. Inara and Zoe had started another game of checkers, and Simon was sound asleep, curled up in his chair with one leg draped over the chair's arm. "You didn't dope him, did you?" Mal asked.
"He was exhausted," Inara said with a gentle smile. "Even nerves weren't going to keep him awake much longer.
Mal settled down onto the sofa, making sure to keep as much distance as possible between himself and Inara. "Why can't things go smooth long enough for us to make repairs?" he asked the world at large.
He must have drifted off, himself, for the next thing he noticed was Zoe shaking his shoulder. He blinked awake to hear someone calling from outside. It sounded like Winthrop. He rose from the sofa and stepped over Jayne, who was sacked out on the floor, then headed up to the cargo bay.
"Just wanted to give you the all-clear," Winthrop said when Mal opened the airlock door. "They made sure we were okay, then left us some supplies and took off."
Mal blinked in the morning light as his eyes adjusted from the darkness. "Thanks for the heads up, Jeff. And thanks for the parts."
"Always a pleasure doing business with you, Mal. Come back and see us again sometime."
"I'm sure we will. My mechanic will be having dreams about this junkyard for months to come."
They shook hands, then Mal ran up the steps toward the bridge. "Wash, see if you can spot anything on long-range sensors. Seems like the Feds have cleared out, but I want to be sure."
Wash grabbed the comm mic and called, "Kaylee? Can you power us up? I need to get the scope online."
Mal was pretty sure he heard a yawn as she replied, "Sure thing!"
While Wash flipped switches, Mal took the mic from him. "We ready to go?"
"Have been for a couple hours."
"Good girl."
"Nothing on the scope, as far as I can see," Wash reported.
"Then let's get out of here. We got ourselves a job waiting for us. There's crime to be done."
THE END
If you enjoyed this story, please send feedback to Shanna
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