Serenity has discovered that a cargo of wine is actually oil.

This story takes place just prior to Those Left Behind.

part two - oil in my lamp, keep me burning

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Wouldn't seem possible to put a stain upon the stars... but the unwholesome looking craft - dipping through the black, between the splinters of light and down below the curvature of the red apple moon - well, it seemed to do just that.

The Justice had a reputation, 'almost Reaverish' as many said. This made the ship's Captain sleep just happy at night... but then Captain Lancy shared both the appearance and the reputation of his vessel.

Right now as his boat smeared between the lunar ring tracking its righteous fugitive, Lancy's face was bent low over a gun - Winchester styled, fine piece taken as part payment for the arrest of Clytus Hale - that son of a hump. Lancy had no particular love of the weapon - but he was mighty proud of some of the dances he'd been to with that lady on his arm.

"Got a fine barn-swing now coming up - and I aint mistaking..." Lancy was polishing the barrels, his face emerging through the dun as it cleared. "Or a polka maybe," laughing. "Either way," he studded his reflection - now vivid in the metal, "shiny."

And not long in the waiting neither.

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"Hey!" Mal banged hard on the door to the Washburn/Alleyne suite. "You got my pilot stashed away in there some place, Zoë?"

Reynolds shifted impatiently, folding his arms. He could hear vague sounds from within. Just as he was about to knock some more, Mal heard Zoe's voice.

"My mistake Sir, I took this hot young thing to be my lawful wedded, guess I was wrong."

Mal was in no mood for this. "Guess you were. Tell Wash to -"

"Tell me yourself Mal." Wash appeared in the doorway, a little ruffled. On its own that told little, Wash was ruffled incarnate - but the air coming out the door was a tad, uh, ripe. Mal concentrated on the annoyed looking face of his pilot.

Wash was annoyed, ofte