Mal had just turned 18 that fall. The Alliance had made selling cattle and shipping the processed beef off world almost impossible due to excessive tariffs. Commerce between Shadow and other planets and moons came to a standstill after the blockade of the shipping lanes from Shadow to the Core planets.

The few transport ships that ran the blockade were full of guns, ammunition, medical supplies and other necessities. They were bound for stockpiles on various Border and Rim worlds and were then sold by unscrupulous dealers at very inflated prices to whoever had the coin to afford them.

The Shadow militia had been actively recruiting men and women for a year. Mal had joined that summer, without telling his Ma. She didn’t want her son training to be a soldier. She wanted him to run the ranch with her and eventually take over. Find a nice girl, get married and start a family of his own.

But Meg Reynolds knew the seriousness of the situation. She believed as deeply in the cause as her son, so she only made a token protest when Mal informed her that he had started going to the militia meetings since June.

The situation between the Assembly of Shadow and the Assemblies of the other so called “Independent” planets and moons and the Parliament of the Allied planets deteriorated even further during the fall. War was the topic of everyone’s conversation at every gathering place, the dinner table, and the stores in town. Weapons appeared everywhere and were worn with pride and determination.

Preparations for Christmas that year were subdued to say the least. The ranch just couldn’t support as many cattle as it once did because of the Alliance blockade. The ranch had a third of the number of hands it usually had and more hands would have to be let go soon. They were able though, to sell a small number of cattle for planet side consumption so things were just on the right side of desperate.

Christmas Eve service was normal enough except that afterwards small groups of men and women stayed outside the chur