Suddenly, Inara burst through the door.

“There was a news bulletin on the Cortex! It’s been reported everywhere. Ships have been warned to stay away from the outer planets!”

“Why? What’s been reported?” Mal demanded.

“Ships keep failing. All over the galaxy. And it’s spreading out from the edge.”

“What?” Mal looked over to Inara. “What do you mean?”

“All over the outer planets! Ships keep falling that shouldn’t be! And it’s spreading towards the Core!” Inara paused. “All ships travelling to the Core planets have to spend two weeks in quarantine. They don’t know what’s causing this, but they aren’t taking any chances…”

“So what are you telling me? That ships in the ‘verse are randomly falling apart for no reason?”

“No, Mal. I’m telling you that everywhere we have been in the last six months has been affected. And there is no way to tell if we have been until its too late.”

*

Wash looked at the radar. Dozens of ships were downed all over the edge, even Reavers were affected. Nobody wanted to go anywhere near downed ships, the problem seemed to spread like a disease. That’s what they called it. The Ship Disease, that downed innocents and criminals alike, never caring which, nor making a difference between right and wrong.

Then again, all of that could hold as much truth as the bogey man, and Santa Clause who came down ship’s exhaust to give presents to good boys and girls.

And so the raiders started to pick off the weak and the injured. Now, there was no-body to stop them, Alliance wouldn’t go close to the outer-rim.

Suddenly, an alarm started to bleep. Wash grabbed a com. “Cap, I’m thinking you may want to be up here for this!”

Mal appeared at the door. “Why do we have gorram alarms for EVERYTHING?”

“Because you never wanted to be surprised, Sir.” Zoë had followed him. “What is it, Sweetie?”

Wash smiled at the sight of his wife, they never spent enough time together at the moment. They had passed a real corner in that Niska problem, but he still worried. Wash always worried about his wife.

“Alli