Serenity was quiet, only a soft mechanical hum of metal vibrating and power charging disturbing the air. Mal let his hand drift over her side as he walked up to the bridge, his blue eyes soft and loving as he gave the metal a pat. River and Mal had both taken to piloting the ship even when auto-pilot would have done the same job. He didn't rightly know River's motives, but he himself couldn't sleep well with the thought of trusting Serenity's proximity warnings to tell them a few seconds too late that they might be getting snuck up on.

He had been edgy for a long time now.

Tired as he was, Mal came topside to relieve River of her shift, grumbling to himself about a lack of sleep as he checked the crew’s quarters one at a time. Each firmly locked and secure, though he doubted Kaylee was alone in her bunk. As he passed Zoë’s, he caught sight of Wash’s name still emblazoned on there. No, Zoë wasn’t alone either. Probably would never be, the way she was likely to carry the ghost of her husband with her. In a way, it was akin to the nights Mal spent dreaming of a mixture of jasmine and silk and the days when he could still hear the screams of Serenity Valley.

He noticed immediately that it wasn’t River at the controls. The movements were not like River’s, which were often fast and incredibly certain for a girl her age. Mal had long since given up being surprised by the things River could do. Instead, the movements seemed to exude an air of grace and control that he knew only one person could give off so clearly in a world being torn apart.

Inara didn’t turn around at his entry, didn’t seem to move at all even though the occasionally light would blink to demand her attention. Mal focussed on it, fretting for a minute that his ship was about to break apart simply because the Companion wanted to look dignified. “My ship falls apart, I will be all kinds of unhappy with you,” he stated as he moved past her to the secondary controls.

Inara jumped in her seat and he looke