MIA part 3

--------------- Tortured Souls --------------

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Malcolm Reynolds, Captain of Serenity, sat in his ship’s galley sipping his steaming cup of coffee well before any of his crew had awakened, well, save for the ship’s crewmember who’d happened to pulled watch duty all night, which happen to be Serenity’s pilot. Actually the Captain had looked in on Wash, and he was no less asleep than any of the others. His mouth open, he was snoring so loud that he could have drowned out a mortar barrage during the Battle of Serenity. Had he been down in the engine room, Mal would have thought he had another catalyzer problem. Zoe must stuff a spare hanky in there at times to stop all that noise, that is, if she wanted to get some sleep.

Bridge watch on Serenity was no more a chore than pouring yourself a glass of water. All one did was plot the course, set the proximity parameters, tweak the alarm system and sit back for a lonely evening of boredom. Still, a person might prefer to be in their bunk, not having to listen for alarms or any cortex messages that might be broadcast in Serenity’s direction ( ie…job opportunities from Badger). Those might not allow for a completely uninterrupted night’s rest on bridge watch.

Malcolm did enjoy the quiet early hours in the morning, although this particular time he’d gotten up extra early. The night before had been a restless one. Funny how the idea of morning and night were still marked by measured time in the Black. He thought about this sometimes when his mind wasn’t burdened with the crews wants and desires, or the pressures of other things. Actually, there were no mornings and nights in space, only perpetual darkness, and the beauty of the stars. Wars, long over, could almost be forgotten out here….almost.

Anyway, Mal remembered his attempted night’s sleep had been burdened with some of the worst dreams he‘d had in a long while. Dreams which tortured and troubled his soul.