Mal’s legs hurt, and he pushed open the door to the housing unit with an eye towards making for his bunk, but the quiet thud of a boot hitting flesh erased any such notions.
Cody was on the floor near the back of the room, with Cole kicking him in vicious anger as three men cheered him on. The rest were outside, blissfully unaware. From his quiet demeanor, Mal guessed Cody hadn’t screamed for help. Gorram kid was just taking the beating.
Mal watched silently, picking up a treatise on ancient civilizations. It had a solid heft to it. The advantage would be needed; Cole outweighed him by a good measure, and Mal had no interest in being a chew toy for a human pitbull. He walked up behind Cole and slammed the book into the side of his head. The man fell, and Mal kicked him as many times as he could before Cole could grasp what was happening. Two swift kicks to the knees ensured that Cole wouldn’t be standing up to finish the fight.
The large man’s eyes focused. “Sergeant! What –“ Mal looked him directly in the eyes and kicked him with equal directness in the stomach. Paying no attention to Cole’s whimpers, Mal glanced at the other three who were backing away, uneasy.
“Let me guess. He deserved it.” The rage with which Mal spat out the words elicited a cringe from Cole more visceral even than his attempt to shrink from Mal’s boot.
Cole struggled to speak. “We got – a moral code. Doesn’t include – murdering – civilians.”
“Yeah,” said Mal. “Apparently it involves beating prisoners out of revenge.” He jerked his head towards the door. “Kinda glad the guards don’t adhere to that particular code.” Mal flashed an insincere smile and kicked him again.
“He’s a murderer!” protested another of the bystanders, pointing at Cody, lying on the concrete floor with his eyes closed. His prosthetic leg was protruding from his jumpsuit.
“Ah. Right,” said Mal. He pointed to Cole. “And that’s the guy kicking the shit out of a helpless person. Figured by his moral code , I’d rough him
I wasn't sure the drifting between violence and gentleness and hope and heartbreak would work for readers or not....but I ended up deciding it was a very human state to be in, and that it was very Mal in its contradictory complexity.
It blended together the various forces in a way that could perhaps show a bit of how Mal can be a solid rock and a lost man, compassionate and harsh, bitter and hopeful, all in the same person.
But on the negative side, I've spent chapters apon chapters creating a jarring contrast between forces, and I'm not sure suddenly melding them like this works. Well - it works for the Plot at least.
You can't take the sky from me
I love the ebb and flow of this chapter. And it HAS to be good news for Mal. He needs a little of it after all you've put him through.
There’s no sort of point to it all. Just a cloud of gray we walk through all the time. Might be of use to remember that, not lose track of some manner of compassion no matter how right you think you are.”
And these lines say more philisophically than most: “I - don’t believe in your world any more.” he stopped. It hurt too much, facing that part of him that no longer expected any one or any thing to come to the aid of right.
“What-” said Daniels in a voice as quiet as Mal’s.
“The one where everything works out shiny in the end.” Mal’s words were harsh and clipped. They say at the point where you don't expect any more, that's when you can look at everything as a gift instead as a given, and appreciate life as it's supposed to be.
I emjoyed the ebb and flow of this chapter. It said a lot about the thought processes going on and the changing weather and attitudes. You did a grea job of getting everything to fit together. And you really do a great job of getting into Mal's head. Looking forward to more, even though we're nearing the end, aren't we?
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