Malcolm put on that trickster smile of his again. "Now why would you say that, me the fine Book-following, upstanding gentleman that I am? I'm sure the man'll pay his way and be on it in good time." He added, stepping over the bulkhead, "Just like the last one."<br/><br/>Fireflies weren't known for their longevity. They could be durable ships and they'd get you where you were going, you treated them right. Still and all, they weren't any 'Verse-hopping cruisers. They'd wink on here, wink out there, skip from world to world, keep on landing to keep on rising. Fireflies were night-fliers for short passes and short-term plans. Those that picked them, crews and cargo alike, tended to reflect that, given time. Sometimes given too little.<br/><br/>The muffled clang of his boots tramping down the metal corridor died away upon reaching his ladder, shoving it inward to open his room and climb down the rungs. The early pay came out of his coat in a jingling pouch. It was good to have pay again. Work had been sparse too long, likely to stay that way a while longer. Still, let it get around they had any pay at all ahead of work and things could get sticky. He stashed the up-front payment in a drawer and locked it away; he'd pool it with the back end when the job was done, keep things simple. Not like Jayne needed any new reasons to get tetchy.<br/><br/>Speaking of Jayne, where was the big man? Wasn't like him to be unseen too long unless he wasn't doing something he oughtta, or the other way. Make a man nervous not hearing from the loudest one on the crew with so many new faces around. Malcolm closed his hatch off and headed down the corridor to the mess to see who all was together. Everybody had to be someplace.