Shadow’s Graveyard - Part I

Now …

The shuttle’s course was erratic over the yellow landscape, rising and tumbling as if the person at the controls was having trouble maintaining any kind of coherent flight plan. It skimmed low, just avoiding a clump of dead trees, pulling up at the last second to turn its nose to the sky and climb, the metal frame screaming in protest.

Suddenly there was a flash at the rear of the small craft, and the engines cut out. For just a second it appeared that the pilot would be able to glide the shuttle to the ground, but – as its designer had been fond of saying – a Firefly’s shuttle had the manoeuvrability of a flying brick when in atmo and not under its own power. It started to dive, spinning as it went, air whining past the fuselage until it smashed belly down into the ground, throwing dust and debris into the air. It split like an egg.

Nothing happened for a long moment as the detritus came under gravity‘s impulse again, then someone climbed unsteadily out of the gash in the bulkhead. The figure staggered forwards, stumbling, trying to get as far away as possible before …

The shuttle blew, the explosion ripping it apart, curling the metal back on itself and hurling burning fragments high into the sky. The shockwave reached the lurching figure, caught like a puppet and tossed to the ground to lie still and broken as bits of shuttle rained down …

-

Then …

“This is hard,” Mal said, staring at the screen.

“I know.” His wife looked back, the image grainy since they were at the limit of visual range, even with the state of the art Cortex link at the Lazarus end. “Me too.”

He’d tried to get back, to see her, hold her, but for once there was more than enough work, and with a growing family Mal knew he had to save as much money as he could. It meant that he hadn’t been able to park Serenity and visit his wife, and even if he had they both knew it would be very painful leaving her again, saying goodbye … again … They knew they coul