This was hard. Very hard. He admitted, at least to himself, that he hadn’t exactly given it much thought when he left Serenity, just knew he had to do something, stop Quintana, but he had had no idea how much it was going to take out of him. Not that he’d have not gone, even if someone had read him chapter and verse on it. One way or the other, he’d have been out here.

At first he’d looked down the well, knowing that was where the crew of Serenity had breached the complex. Or rather, it looked back at him, and he knew he wasn’t ever going to be able to force himself to climb down the rope, and he’d turned back, surmising there must be another way in.

Resting his hand on a low stone wall, Gabriel paused again, trying to calm his fast-beating heart.

He’d had to take several breaks during his quest, leaning against the ancient walls, or sliding to a sitting position on the dirt, gathering his strength before going on, and each time it became harder to get going, but he forced himself, trying to catch his breath. And the pain in his chest was growing.

There wasn’t much left of the Abbey above ground, but he searched everything pretty thoroughly, finding nothing except a small personal ship, tucked away under a convenient overhang. He wondered whether he should disable it, but realised he didn’t have the skill. Instead he walked away, and now faced the only place he hadn’t been.

Looking over at what was left of the church, he realised it was something of a misnomer. While he had never seen it in its prime, it was obvious that once upon a time it had been magnificent, probably with an intricate and highly carved wooden roof, possibly even a spire or two. Now it was open to the elements, that very roof probably blown into firewood by any number of mortars, and used as such to keep Alliance and Independents warm during the long Hera campaign.

The remains of a campanula sat a few metres beyond, a bell tower that called the faithful to service, but that was now little more than a tumble of rub