"I'm getting used to it, actually," Wash said as he floated upside-down in the cockpit.  One of his hands held the curve of the ladder handle, to keep him from bumping into the ceiling, but his eyes were bright as he looked across at Zoe, who was struggling to remain upright and on the floor before him. "Think of all the fun we could have in bed."  His eyes glanced to the corridor before he released the rung and started to swim through the air toward their quarters. "If only we could get there . . ."

"Every action has an equal and opposite reaction," River said primly, pushing from wall to wall as she made her way serenely towards the cargo bay.  She looked as though weightlessness was the only element she'd ever known or imagined.  "It's not going to work."

Jayne laughed, kicking towards them, less gracefully than River, but still with a fair degree of ease.  "Hell, y'all look like y'ain't ever been in zero g before."

Jayne tried out several poses, which he probably thought looked sexy but really came off as ridiculous as he floated down the stairs, in search of his weight set.  "Gonna be a mess when this is all over, no mistake," he mumbled to himself.

"You're going to have it fixed soon, aren't you?" Simon asked, bobbing near the ceiling of the engine room as he watched Kaylee working.  "And you'll warn us first, so we don't fall on our heads, right?" He struggled to right himself once more, before catching site of River floating down toward the cargo bay. 

"It's...gonna be fine," Kaylee said unhappily, working at the machine.  She seemed steadier and more focused, though, knowing what was wrong.  "Just...keep your head upwards.  And if you're gonna be sick, go to the other room.  Some of these parts don't react well with liquid, and it'll be all over—maybe you should get a bag?" she added, looking up.

"A bag," he echoed and glanced behind him, toward the kitchen.  It loomed in the distance, seemingly a mile away.  At last he managed to right himself.  "I . . . I think I'll be all right." He turned back to her, managing a smile. "Providing I remain upright and my equilibrium doesn't tilt, I think I can hold my lunch down."  Slowly he managed to lower himself until he was more on her level.  "So . . . what exactly happened?"

"Grav boot's shot," she sighed.  "Looks like it shook off a piston coupla days ago, and that damaged the heads, and...well, now we're all floatin'."  She glanced over her shoulder.  "Hand me the wrench there, would you?"  She had her tools taped to the walls, trying to keep them in order and out of the delicate machinery.

Simon carefully studied the selection of tools available, finding the one that most resembled a wrench.  He handed it down to her.  "Well, at least we've still got air," he said in what he hoped was an optimistic tone.

She looked up.  "Simon, we ain't in any danger, I promise.  This is just...one of those little things that happens on any..."  Her voice died out.  This was one of those little things that happened on any ship except hers.  Any other time, she'd've felt that piston breaking, sensed the heads being damaged and the gasket losing its seal.  But this time...she sighed, lowering her head.  "But we'll be fine," she whispered.

"Hey, it's not your fault," he said.   "I mean, at least not mostly.  If the Captain wasn't so stingy with the money, I'm sure this would have never happened." He gave her a smile.  "Besides, I think everyone else is quite enjoying the weightlessness.  I'm just not used to it.  I'll be glad when we get to Charon, if for no reason other than feeling some solid earth under my feet again."

Kaylee gave him a little, sidelong smile.  "Hey...maybe when we get there...you reckon' you and me could maybe—maybe do somethin'?" she said shyly, handing the wrench back to him.  "Pliers."

"I'm sure there are lots of things we could do," Simon said, accepting the wrench and replacing it.  It was while he was looking for the pliers that he went a bit rigid.  "Only, I'm not sure Charon's exactly going to have much for us to do." After locating the pliers, he handed them over to her.  "This whole planetary system was badly razed during the war, after all."

She took the pliers, bending again to her work.  "But...it can't be too bad.  I mean, people still live there and all, right?  Must do, since they're wantin' seeds and such?"

"Well, I suppose that's true.  As far as I recall from my studies, Shadow itself was made uninhabitable by the war, but many of the survivors settled on the moons.  I'm sure life must be difficult out here, and the settlers just barely surviving. It must be why we're being paid so well for this cargo--no one else wants to visit a dead planet."

Kaylee bit her lip.  "But...what can you do to a planet so's people can't live there?  I mean, if they bombed, people could rebuild, right?  And you said there was survivors..."

"By survivors I mean people who were off world when the Alliance struck.  I’m not one hundred percent certain, but reports I’ve heard said that no one who was on the planet at the time actually survived.  I really don't know, but I think it was much more than just bombs.  Certain chemicals could render the soil lethal to carbon-based life.  Many of those types of things have half-lives in the millions of years.  I'm not even sure reterraforming the planet would work, if anyone were even interested.  The survivors, what few there were, are probably doing the best they can, rebuilding on Charon instead."

"All them people, though," Kaylee whispered, distracted from her work.  "Must've been plenty didn't get out in time...was there...was there lots killed?"

At first, Simon didn't replied, letting his silence speak instead.  "Beyond your imagination, Kaylee.  The Alliance's reputation for brutality preceded it into the war.  They didn't care about the loss of lives; to them, the ends justified the means.  It's why they won the war, but people supported them and accepted the brutality as a necessary evil."  Somewhat shamed faced, Simon added, “I know I did.  We were raised to believe the Rim worlds were run by savages; people little more civilized than apes.  No one ever stopped to consider how brutal the Alliance was to them.  Shadow was a food supply world—a great deal of the Independent’s food stock shipped out of the planet, and to the moons.  That made it a decisive target for the Alliance, and their devastation of the planet was total. The intention was to destroy the soil so completely that no further crops could be raised from it, ever.  In the process, they burned the sea into steam and completely ravaged the planet, with no regard for the human lives that fell along side it.”

Kaylee swallowed.  "You...d'you reckon it's why the cap'n's so mad about goin' there?"

"Reckon floatin' around my gorram ship while my mechanic sits on her ass swapping tales with my doctor is why the captain's so mad.  What the Cao  is going on here, Kaylee?  You plannin' on actually fixing this here problem or just gonna sit around all day, showing off your sensitive side to any what'll listen?"

"C-cap'n..."  Kaylee couldn't even think of what to say as Mal entered the room, his face dark with anger.  "I'm workin' on it, promise.  Got my tools all laid out, an' Simon's helpin'..."

"Um...yes.  I'm handing her the tools," Simon said, carefully and precisely.  "First the wrench, then the pliers.  When she's done, I tape them back to the wall."

"Well, it's pretty clear that method ain't workin'!  Thought I told you there was a problem days ago, girl.  You just been moping in your room since then?  We ain't got time for this, Kaylee."  Wagging a finger at her, Mal's tone dropped menacingly.  "You can't do your one job on this boat, I can get me someone who can.  Don't need no girl crying and sulking about all day, nor batting her lashes at the rest of my crew, dong ma?  Now you better do your gorram job 'fore we land, or you won't have one to do at all."

"I..."  Kaylee had never heard quite that tone from him before.  Not addressed at her.  Jayne, yes, Simon, even Zoe once.  But never to her.  She ducked her head, blinking.  "'m sorry, sir.  I'll have it s-sorted..."  She was trying to keep back the tears, but it didn't seem to be working, even though he'd just scolded her for crying, so crying in response was really bad.

Furious at Mal's treatment of Kaylee, Simon stretched to his full height, trying to balance as best he could against the zero gravity.  His brows furrowed as he struggled with what to say in retort.  Mal was over the line.

"You stay out of my way," Mal snarled first.  He then turned and left, maneuvering down the halls with relative ease.

"Simon..." Kaylee whispered, in a soft, helpless voice, and Simon abandoned his intent to follow Mal, working his way down to take her in his arms.

"It's okay," he whispered softly and hesitantly, a little stiff, but knowing she needed contact.  "He didn't mean it.  It's okay."

By the time Mal reached the galley, Wash and Zoe had managed their way there too, attracted by the shouting.  Zoe fixed the captain with a sad, stoic expression, but Wash easily swatted aside some floating dishes and gave Mal an easy grin.  "You know, you take to firing people every time we're in a place you had a bad experience, then you're going fast wind up with no crew at all."

Mal glared at Wash.  "That so?  You tenderin' your resignation, or are you gonna get those things secure?  Unless you want to clean 'em up after they smash on the floor."

Zoe silently moved towards the cupboards, beginning to try and get the dishes safely inside them.

Resignedly, Wash pulled the few items out of the air that he could reach, noting dully to himself that Mal made no attempt to do the same. His tone, when he spoke again, was serious.  "I don't see how the destruction of one family is a good reason to try to break up another."  Holding the dishes to his chest, he offered a sad smile.  "Kaylee's like a little sister to all of us.   She's the kindest person on this boat.  She doesn't deserve you taking your anger out on her."

Mal's face tightened at Wash's words.  "Family—what the hell would you know about what a family is, or what losin' one's like, huh?  Kaylee ain't been doin' her job, ain't been listening, and it's about time she heard about it!  Maybe I finally got her attention."

"Oh, there's no doubt about that.  But in the process, you probably lost a lot of respect." Sighing, he shrugged.  "I know enough about family to know you're going to lose yours if you keep this up."

Mal's eyes darted over to Zoe quickly.  "Zoe?"  His tone was still hard, but there was something in it that craved reassurance.

Her eyes lifted carefully, showing that while she had given them distance, she'd been paying close attention to the conversation.  "Think we already had this conversation once before, sir."

It didn't take him long to remember what she meant.  "Yeah..."  Mal's voice roughened, then, and he rubbed the back of his hand over his face fitfully.  "Guess so."  He looked around, as though with fresh eyes.  "Wash, you go make sure River keeps care of herself.  Don't need a cracked skull on top of everything else around here.  I'll...go make sure we're still on course," he sighed, moving towards the cockpit.

Once there, though, he didn't end up doing any checking, or much of anything except staring out into the black, realizing that for the first time in days, it seemed emptier than the space inside his ship.

"Sir?  Dispatch from command, sir," the young private said.

"Is it, now.  Ain't they worked out how to find their asses with both hands for themselves yet?"  Mal grinned at the boy as he took the communiqué from him.

Zoe took her eyes off the field when Mal took the call, but didn't watch him long.  It wasn't until several minutes had passed and Mal hadn't said anything that she turned back to him.  His expression was drawn and his skin pale.  Sensing immediately that something was wrong, she rose to her feet and adjusted her rifle.  "Sergeant?"

Mal swallowed.  "Alliance took out a planet.  Tryin' to...do away with supporters, keep them from joining up, mess up supplies…"  His words came, slow and disjointed, as though he was fumbling for speech.  He couldn't stop the racing inside his brain.  They could have gotten away.  There must have been evacuations, shuttles, something...

Zoe straightened her back, aware that there was more to this that she wasn't being told. Mal never took the news of planets being attacked well, but he never had acted like this, either.  There wasn't anger or motivation flaring in his eyes, but a sort of hollow dullness. “You mean they raided one?” The cold creeping along her spine told her it was worse than that.

“No,” Mal said. His eyes were hollow.  “Razed it, it says.  Completely gone, just a hunk of rock in the sky.”  He handed her the data pad.  "Go through the casualty list.  Should have notes as to who's...which soldier they're related to.  Then you can start telling the men.  It's indexed by platoon."  He blinked hard, once, twice, then three times.  "Maybe you best start with ours."  He forced himself to meet Zoe's gaze.  She would tell him the truth, would be the only voice he'd have to believe.

Zoe scanned through the casualty list quickly, then skipped back up to the field report at the top. Sucking in her breath, she read over the name of the planet that had been razed three times before her brain accepted it as true.  She'd never been to Shadow, but Mal's stories about his home had nearly transported her there in her mind.  "Understood, sir," she replied.  Her eyes fixed on him. "We're going to get the bastards."

"Just tell me what it says," he said numbly, needing the final confirmation of what his soul already knew.  "Just tell me, corporal."

Zoe scanned down the list again, until she reached their platoon.  She read over the names several times before shaking her head regretfully.  In a softer tone she said, "I'm sorry sir."

"Whole ranch?" he said, trying to keep the hope out of his voice, trying to sound as though it didn't matter.

Zoe lowered the data pad, staring straight ahead. "Entire planet, sir."

Mal swallowed a few times, trying to keep down everything that needed to be kept down.  He stood up, the movement clumsy and uncoordinated.  "Goin' out," he muttered.  "Do your job."

Zoe watched him go with narrowed eyes.  She had a fair idea where he was headed, and couldn't decide if it would be better for her to leave him alone, or to make sure he was all right.  Looking back at the data pad in her hands, she resolved to do the job. Then she'd find him.

And find him she did, just over an hour later, in the base bar, engaged in a brawl with men from the next platoon over.  She didn't say anything, just joined him in the fight.  She figured fighting would help him burn off some of his anger.

"Get out of here!" he yelled at her, holding off about three men with the leg of a chair.  It had all gone quiet enough until the bartender tried to cut him off.  That had been like a match into a powder keg, and now here he was.

"Think you're drunk, sir," she casually replied, ducking to avoid a punch.  She scanned the bar for the military police who would undoubtedly be arriving soon.

"Yeah, but I'm still..."  Mal trailed off, unable to think of what, precisely he was.  Furious and driven, he whacked one of the men on the side of the head with the chair leg, but then the other two gave him the bum's rush through the door, leaving him sprawling in the dirt, running his tongue automatically over his teeth to see if he'd lost any this time.  He just lay there, didn't bother getting up.

Zoe was pushed and shoved, but ultimately walked out of the bar unscathed.  She stood before Mal, looking down at him in the dirt.  After the brawl, she wasn't about to leave him alone.  Extending a hand down to help him up, she said, "Ain't no good if you get yourself killed now, sir.  Reckon their platoon leader would appreciate you not killing his men, too."

"Ain't no good anyway," he said thickly, swallowing blood.  He didn't take her hand, just looked up at her.  "I had a leave comin' up," he whispered, blue eyes wide and luminous with pain.  "Next week."

"Alliance can destroy your home, sir, but they ain't killed you yet. You still got your life.  Home's only one part of what makes that, long as you live and have the will to rebuild."  She offered her hand again.

He shook his head, unwilling to return to the precarious land of the vertical.  "You miss the part where my family's all dead, corporal?"  He meant it to sound angry, but it didn't, just hurt.

"Didn't, sir."  She lowered herself to crouch beside him.  "Don't mean no disrespect." She glanced at the bar.  "Reckon they'd say the same, though."

"You know what they said?"  Mal laughed feebly, feeling the blood ooze out onto his chin.  "Said someday I'd be sorry, for wantin' to be left alone.  Boy..."  He was laughing harder now, nearly hysterical.  "They sure knew, didn't they?  'Get on with your family, boy, or you'll be pretty lonely.' 'You're gonna regret that.'"  Tears were flooding his eyes.  "Jesus...Jesus.  They sure did know, didn't they?"

Zoe kept her eyes focused on the bar; looking at Mal crying was too hard.  "You're not alone, sir." She forced herself to look away from the building, focusing on Mal himself.  The sight of him bloodied and crying made her heart ache.  "You're going to be all right."

"All right?"  He leaned on her heavily.  "Wasn't all right two hours ago, and I'm a gorram sight further from it than I was then."  His eyes were vacant as he stared off into space, at the mercy of his grief.  "What's left?  What'd they leave us, Zoe?  They're gonna leave us with nothin' in the end, you know that?"  And that, his mind could dimly comprehend, a world where the Alliance had left him nothing at all, taken everything from them; he could see it stretching before them.

"You got me, sir," she replied.  "Ain't planning on going no where soon."

Mal gave up the effort to speak anymore then, and just leaned on her, letting his tears come forth helplessly as they hadn't since he was a little boy.  "They ain't gonna take you," he whispered against her shoulder, gripping her tightly.  "They ain't."

Shaking her head, Zoe drew Mal close, putting an arm around him comfortingly.

Continue to part four