He’d lost track of time. He could have been digging for a day, or a month, or a thousand years, and it would still have felt the same. He was too far from the entrance to see if it was sunlight or stars outside, and the darkness, broken only by the light from the lamp next to him, wrapped around him, touching his skin at all points, fighting for possession with the dirt encrusted into his flesh.

He’d only paused for a protein bar when the hunger pangs got too bad, and for a mouthful of water that made the whispers louder and more insistent, almost fighting with each other for control of him.

Swinging his spade into the wall of earth in front of him, he almost overbalanced as the edge met no resistance. His face splitting into a rictus grin, he attacked the remaining dirt, seeing it fall away in front of him until there was nothing but a gaping mouth of black.

He picked up the lamp, leaning through the hole and letting the thin light wash through.

There. There it was, resting in all its glory, the marks of its passage hidden beneath fallen rocks and damaged supports. It looked whole, complete, at least from this side, but even he could tell it would never fly again. The thrusters were damaged out of all recognition, and the flight planes buckled.

He walked forwards, stumbling on debris but ignoring it, until he was up against the hull, his face pressed against the cold metal. His fingertips outlined the flag painted there, scored by a thousand micro-meteorites but still visible, a version not seen for almost half a millennium, and he sighed in utter completeness.

“Mine,” he murmured, and the voices in his head cheered silently with him.

---

Friday dawned clear and cool, the crew of Serenity waking slowly in their various beds. Mal thought he was the first one up, but he could smell coffee brewing in the kitchen, and as he stepped down into the galley he realised River was behind the small counter, making breakfast.

“Ain’t it Jayne’s turn to burn stuff?” he asked, scratching his h