Mal made his way down the corridor of the temporary base. Apparently, in the two days or so that he had been gone in, Command had decided that their precious asses were too close to the front for comfort. Mal didn’t need the map of Persephone with all the little thumbtacks in the wall to know that they were being pushed back- badly, bloodily, and at the cost of more men each and every day. Sure, the Bugs paid in blood and bodies, too, but… Gorramit! They just… breed too ruttin’ fast to beat! Come on ! For every man killed, the bugs could lose ten thousand and still get a net gain. How could any rifle beat that? They sure as Hell weren’t killing ten thousand for every one man killed.

Zoë came up beside him silently, walking with him. Her presence was comforting, having someone so reliable by his side. She was grudgingly using a crutch, but probably would be out of using it by a week from now. Mal smiled. He knew he could count on her and Tracey (The latter to a slightly lesser extent). They had been with him almost everywhere . They had been with him when they nuked Shadow… the refugee ships still coming out of the atmosphere even as the Alliance skiffs skimmed the upper stratosphere.

When he came to where River was being held, he saw, as expected, Simon was fighting with two orderlies there, his face marred from where one had punched him in a futile attempt to stop a brother’s love. Kaylee was looking worriedly on at the scuffle, her green eyes looking at Simon like he may drop in a moment. “Let me through!”

“No good! Go back, Doc!”

“Like fucking Hell,” said Simon furiously. Being around the Independents sure had increased his vocabulary, cussin’ wise. He shoved one of the much more burly men into the other, jumping past them.

“Somethin’ wrong hereabouts?” Mal walked into the white washed room. The two men stiffly saluted, somehow managing this feat while keeping the struggling doc Tam in place.

“Orders from the Gen’ral, L.T. Gotta keep him outta the r