A/N

I started this fic in an attempt to process some of my emotions at the death of a local Marine the first week in May and I decided to use Mal's Ma as a conduit for this. I believe her emotions would be similar to any mother that sends her son off to fight.

RIP Lance Corporal Jonathan Kirk, USMC and all your comrades that have given your all for us.

Thanks Jetflair for the suggestions and beta. I'm learning!

Meg Reynolds fingered the silver cross on a ribbon around her neck as the twin Firefly transports lifted off the dock in New Jamestown, the capital city, if it could be called such, of Shadow and disappeared into the sky. The crowd that had gathered to say goodbye to the men and women of the Shadow militia slowly dispersed, leaving her standing alone with her thoughts.

It had been a grand send off. Independent flags in green, gold and black were everywhere, hanging from the dock and all the surrounding buildings. It was as if the green of the prairie cattle ranches of Shadow had mixed with the golden wheat that grew on the farms, and the black of the soil that nurtured them both.

There had been rousing speeches from the mayor of New Jamestown, the head of the Shadow Assembly and lastly Colonel Obrin, the commander of the Shadow militia. The New Jamestown Shepherd had even given a stirring talk, comparing the struggle of the Border planets and moons against the Alliance to the Biblical story of David versus Goliath along with prayers for safety and victory. Not a person there could claim that they weren't moved by the words said that day.

Meg certainly had been. Her only child, Malcolm, was on of those transports to Persephone. He was at 18, a tall, handsome, headstrong young man entirely convinced of the righteousness of the Independent cause. He had signed up with the Shadow militia at the first call for volunteers about 2 months ago, boldly announcing to his Ma that he was fully grown and honored to defend his home planet against the hun dahn of an Alliance that was squeezing