0:10:27

The Golden Dragon was a lot bigger than Serenity, and laid out totally differently. The main airlock was in a room of its own, metal cages bolted to the walls down two of the sides, nets holding various items down a third. It was also empty as Mal and River slipped inside.

“Albatross?”

“A moment, Captain.” River had her head on one side as if she was listening to the ship talking to her, which it quite possibly was.

Not that Mal could wait. “Can you feel ... them?” Freya, can you feel Freya, was what he wanted to ask.

“I'm not ...” Her eyes widened. “No!” She span on her heel and ran back towards the inner controls, but it was too late. The airlock slid closed, the faint hiss of the seal hardening very loud. She played an arpeggio across the board, but to no avail. “I'm locked out!”

The comlink in Mal’s pocket buzzed, Hank’s voice coming immediately after.

“He’s trying to disengage!”

As he pulled it loose privately Mal wondered if the pilot’s blood pressure was likely to cause him to blow a gasket, or at least have a stroke. “Stop him.”

“How?”

“I don’t care! Block him in or something.”

“The Dragon’s got weapons …”

Not for the first time Mal wanted to swear, volubly and at length, over the fact that his Firefly wasn’t armed, even if sometimes he felt they’d attract more trouble than they were worth. Then it was too late – he felt the Golden Dragon tremble beneath him.

“Hank.” It was River, up so close behind him he could feel the heat of her body on his back. “Do it.”

“I don’t know …”

“I do. Trust me.”

“Trust what?” Mal turned enough so that he could see her face, her eyes huge in the overhead light.

She gazed at him. “Hank. Do it.”

“But you’re on board. What if I get this wrong?”

“You won’t.”

“Honey, you’ve got a hell of a lot of faith in me.”

“Yes. Do it.”

Tell him. The words coalesced in Mal’s brain with an incredible feeling of certainty. He felt his mouth op