Grease, coolant, and sometimes even burnt cabling were the usual smells around the ship. But this time something of an altogether different world seemed to float, permeating every nook and cranny. The kind of smell that stuck to the back of your throat and made you thirsty for more of it, only quenched when you could roll the taste over your tongue.

Mal liked that smell.

“Sure is good to have some fresh food for a change.” Kaylee sat down bowls of rice, fresh (fresh!) fried meat, and a few other sundries. The table hadn’t look so burdened for longer than most of the crew cared to think.

“Shiny,” Jayne managed to get out before his mouth was stuffed.

A small choking sound came from Kaylee’s direction, probably at the unexpected compliment. Coming from Jayne, that was high praise indeed for her cooking.

Three of their passengers were dressed for dinner, or as dressed as could be deep out in the black on board a cargo ship. Simon seemed less out of place here next to their two new passengers than usual. Forgoing chopsticks for forks and spoons, their new companions added to their plates much more sedately than the crew. Even Simon heaped his plate with more food than his usual decorum allowed. Good manners prevailing, their guests did not comment on their ravenous hosts.

“May I ask what it is you do, Mr. Sebastian?” Simon asked, voicing what was obviously on everyone’s mind.

Mal had noticed the deferential way in which Sebastian had been treating his companion. Mal had dealt with the man in negotiating this trip. Once on board the stiff-as-a-board man did the lifting and the carrying of all the luggage. Ms. Lien was in charge, no mistaking. Sebastian may have handed over the money for this excursion but Lien held the purse strings.

And as if his thoughts were being echoed in the conversation, Lien spoke up. “Actually, he works for me. My personal assistant.”

Got it in one, Mal thought. He shot Simon a withering glare to quiet him, but the boy must have either been oblivio