Red Herring

By Kristin Matte

Scene I

The air-lock door was still descending as Mal walked out to its ledge. He took in long

breaths of fresh air as he surveyed the land. Lush meadows, green trees, brown earth and

blue skies, it had been near a decade since he'd last been on Pernox. As he stood in

silence watching the sunrise, he could hear the steady, focused stride of Zoë 's boots.

“Wash wants to know when to set our departure time for, sir.” She stated.

“Well, tell him ideally, sunset.”

“Ideally?”

“Ideally.”

“So then most-like tomorrow?” She quipped.

“Most like,” Mal responded, eyes fixated on the land.

Zoë was off as quickly as she had come, and her methodically paced prowl was replaced

with the soft-steps of Kaylee. She was almost skipping, and Mal could hear her humming

and singing. He didn't have to turn around, nobody in the `verse could be that chipper this

early in the morning, he thought. She perkily stepped up next to him, and looked out onto

the vast plains that surrounded them. Her hands were on her hips as she slowly twisted

her torso right-to-left and left-to-right, as if listening to a song nobody else could hear.

“Sure looks like it's gonna be a beautiful day. Shame be'n cooped up in that engine room,” Kaylee flirted, innocently.

“No it ain't,” Mal said matter-of-factly. “You love that engine room. Who am I to deprive

you of all that wrenchin’ and hammerin’?” Mal looked forward, never making eye contact with Kaylee as he spoke. “That's important technical stuff that needs do'n if we plan on getting to Red Herring on time.”

“I know Cap'n,” she paused, “but how often do we get sunny days like this in the middle of the black?”

“Well if we lived in the sun Kaylee, we'd be dead.”

“Cap’n....” Kaylee whined.

“Fine,” he huffed, it didn't seem like he had much of a choice, having her pouting in the

engine room would only slow her down anyway, “You can take a two hour leave, but not a minute more Kaylee, and I mean it.”

“Thanks Cap