Lost Kin

She stared at her feet as she trudged through the ever present muck. The walk back from the administration center to the mess hall was the longest trek possible within the confines of the camp. She thought it was probably because experience had shown their captors that the likeliest spot for a riot to begin, given the paucity and quality of the food, was the mess. That would be something they wanted as far from their own living quarters and the armory as possible. Because defeated or not, there were still 100 trained soldier-prisoners for every Alliance guard. It was an interesting thought which Zoe put away to think on later, if necessary. Everywhere they fought, the Feds had superior numbers, better fire power too. They still had the firepower, but no so much on the numbers, now.

When she entered Serenity Valley with Malcolm Reynolds, he was the sergeant, she the corporal, they had a lieutenant and a total complement of 35; three 10-man squads, the lefty, a radioman, medic, Mal and herself. Five days later so many officers were dead Mal was brevetted to Captain and in command of two thousand souls. She was his second.

They held out against overwhelming numbers for near 2 months before the command came to lay down arms. She thought the day the order came down that Mal might lie down and die beside those already fallen. His duty to the living wouldn't let him. By then they were down to less than 500 souls. And there they were left, wounded and sick and dying, for a week while the higher ups settled the terms. Mal had watched and raged and cursed God and the Alliance equally as they just kept dying. It was really that week when Mal began to lose faith. It was the helplessness as more than two thirds of those left fell needlessly. By the time they were Medivac'd out less than 150 were left; none but she and Mal from their original complement. Once they got to the camp Mal had been bound and determined, come hell or high water, every man-jack left was getting out alive. Somehow they'