Mal stared across the small table at Bo. The kid had his helmet off and a few days growth on his face, he also had the biggest grin Mal had ever seen plastered across the top of his chin. Mal himself probably had a huge grin too, but Bo’s was classic. The boy had just told the most sexist joke he’d ever heard. Thankfully, Zoë and Cat were ordering drinks. The thought crossed his mind again that he shouldn’t be giving the seventeen-year-old alcohol, but he’d seen Bo drink back on Shadow and knew that the boy could probably drink most seasoned veterans under the table. Zoë and Cat returned with trays full of beer and assorted liquors. The two men grabbed a shot and a beer. Bo grinned as Cat picked up two shots of some whiskey and downed them quickly. Bo slammed back his and chased it with a sip of the cheap beer. Mal smiled and followed suit. Zoë refrained from the drinks but smiled along with the rest.

They all sat, conversations flowing like the amber liquids in front of them. They talked about hunting and fighting, where the war was going, where they were going. Mal and Cat talked of a ship, Zoë had no real plans, and she’d probably follow Mal. Bo wanted a ranch, lots of land and plenty of cattle. He missed home, Mal nodded, agreeing with his fantasy. Mal’s dream was of a ship and sailing through the black though. They laughed at their thoughts, laughed at the dreams, no one feeling serious right now. Then everything stopped. For a moment all of them were trapped in silent laughter as Mal looked around the table. Then everything ruptured, flames licked at his fingers and he and Cat were tossed to the other side of the bar. Bo lay a few feet from him, Zoë even further. Mal looked up to see half the tavern gone, incinerated by the bomb. Bo looked up, his face bleeding from a cut that breached his hair-line. Cat stirred on top of him, her green eyes looking into his. Zoë groaned as she moved to stand.

“Everybody, weapons, now.” Mal heard his voice command.

Bo nodded and looked at Cat. Their eyes met and bo