based on the world of Firefly by Joss Whedon

--------------------------------------------

"Tell us where the Alliance is going to strike next." Sargent Reynolds wiped the sweat from his brow, a dirty streak now evident on his forehead. They'd captured a solider, a purple belly who had been relaying their position. He hoped that they could gleam some information from him before turning the prisoner over to his command unit.

A stiff upper lip greeted him as the young squad leader rattled off again his name, rank, and serial number, Mal taking another deep breath as he walked past Zoe to the fresh air outside. It smelled of clean cut grass and mortar fire, but that's the way it was now with the war in full swing. Not many planets left that hadn't felt the damage, not many families left that hadn't felt the pain.

"We could use more unsavory tactics." A voice behind him made him turn, his finger on the trigger of the hand cannon at his side. Zoe, her dark brown hair laying in tangles on her head, whispered holding her small utility blade.

"No." Mal sighed. "We ain't like them, Zo. Man's just doing his duty like us. If one of ours was taken, we'd want the same respect."

"But, would they give it, Sir?" It was directed as a question, but he knew it wasn't and that his second in command was right. Alliance wouldn't stop until their need was met or their prisoner was dead.

"We ain't them." It was stern, but gentle. He'd learned to take her advice to heart, more so than any one else on his unit. Zoe would do just about anything he commanded, but she always had something to add to it.

"Maybe we should be." She moved back inside to guard the prisoner as Mal sighed deeply. She was right. A good scare from a blade would have the young one talking in no time, but he had learned one thing about the war. It was hell and though most would say there was no rules, he felt different. Without honor, they might as well kill every living thing in sight because it made no difference.

A whisper of som