“Okay, Hank. Charge it.” Kaylee looked up towards the bridge, even though she knew he couldn’t see.

“How high?”

“Keep it to the lowest setting. We don’t wanna fry any of Serenity’s electrics.”

Hank nodded and glanced at the mess of wiring at his feet, his mind running over the connections, making sure he wasn’t about to set himself on fire. No, it seemed fine. As he reached for the switch to push electricity through the hull, though, he had a sudden flash of déjà vu, of uncoupling the safeties on the discharge spikes and waiting for the lightening. Killing all those men. He could still see their faces, the surprise on them as he and Zoe hid the bodies. No, not surprise. Accusation.

“Hank?” Kaylee’s voice brought him back to the present from the painful and guilt-ridden past.

He swallowed hard. “Sorry, Kaylee. Just ... checking something over. Charging ... now.” He dropped his hand onto the switch, half expecting the hull to glow, and almost disappointed when it didn’t.

Outside, Kaylee hummed happily.

“I take it it’s working,” Zoe said, glancing at the young woman and smiling indulgently.

“It is.” She grinned in return. “Now I just need to ...” Her voice trailed as she started to slowly walk Serenity’s perimeter, her eyes glued to the tiny sensor screen.

Zoe kept pace, scanning the surroundings at every step.

Above them River stood on top of the Firefly’s neck, her feet in a pair of insulated boots, Vera cradled tenderly in her arms. She too was keeping close watch, and her head whipped round as she thought she saw movement in her peripheral vision, but it was only the flapping of an old Blue Sun poster in the sea breeze. She shuddered, remembering tins and knives, then went back to studying the landscape.

Out in the low buildings, where an advertisement cracked occasionally like a whip, two men hunkered down.

“I thought for sure she’d seen me.”

“Did you see that gun she was carrying? I’d swear it was a modified Callahan. If she had