Ashrah was surprisingly lush for a border moon, a fact River Tam noted with a whispered smile, viewing the green landscape of the sizable clearing through Serenity's front windows. And despite a cloudy night, she could still crane her neck and see stars twinkling through. She drank in fully the scents of the moon's foliage and the harmonious calls from its nocturnal wildlife that wafted onto the bridge.

Weren't as if she had a choice, but just this once, there would be no cursing the Alliance doctors who stripped away at her brain. The only feelings coming from this place were ones tranquil, natural...and simple. A rarity in life; Serenity's especially. Meaning both the Firefly-class ship itself, as well as the now six others who made it a home. Though presently, she sat in the pilot's chair, very much alone.

Not Wash's chair, no. Only the captain sat there, which happened far from often; yet when he did, he took great care to avoid disturbing the dinosaur figurines along the rim of the console. She wondered where Wash had gotten them, what significance they'd held. Nostalgic toys from childhood mayhaps, or simply an impulse buy at a small, outer world market for amusement's sake. The latter fit, if that was the case.

Hoban Washburne was the kind of man who'd tried to bring levity and lightness to most situations, and flying for weeks in the blackness of space was a situation always welcomed a laugh or two. Even a smirk would do. Didn't matter what the cause, or how ridiculous--if it broke the tension of an argument or the stir-craziness brought on by a long journey, then it was worth the occasional, odd look.

And what was funnier than long dead, monstrous creatures who may or may not have roamed prehistoric Earth-That-Was, before succumbing to deadly pits of tar?

River had assumed piloting duties since Wash's death a month ago, but she knew this bridge was still his, and would remain so until the day Serenity could no longer float. She was just happily filling in, as she and the ship related qu