It was the only time in the whole war that the sound of gunfire actually bothered Zoe. And it was so distant, a constant buzz of muffled cracks from the lower end of Serenity Valley.

It was just her and Mal now. The remainder of the platoon, if there was a remainder, would be scattered throughout the valley. They were on a hillock, Zoe sat amongst some scattered sandbags that had been a snipers nest. Mal was sitting on an empty ammo crate, holding his gold crucifix in his hand, looking toward the dwindling skirmish in the distance, the remainder of the battle. The black of night was slowly giving way to the blue light of the early morning sun.

Mal was totally silent. Unmoving. This scared Zoe. This was not her sergeant. He always kept going, always stayed focused. Always kept *her* focused. She needed him to be alright. She hadn’t spoken in hours, and her throat was dry in the desert air. When she spoke, it was only a pathetic whisper.

‘Sir’.

No response.

‘Sir we better clear out. Alliance’ll make their way up the valley soon.’

Still no response. The orders had come in, clear enough. ‘Lay down arms.’ But she knew her sergeant would sooner die fighting than surrender. So would she. But he still wouldn’t talk, wouldn’t move. A few more minutes passed.

Slowly, Mal got to his feet. He wasn’t wounded, but it looked like he was bearing the pain of a gorram hundred bullet wounds. He stood quietly for a moment, then swayed just a little.

‘I’m gonna bury Private Bendez’ he said, his voice even more of a whisper than Zoe’s was.

‘Sir?’ Zoe followed him as he walked back to what was left of their sandbag bunker.

‘Sir!’ He was just ignoring her.

‘We need to keep moving!’ He just kept walking.

‘Mal!’

‘What!’ He span round and faced Zoe. His eyes seemed darker, he looked like he’d aged ten years in as many hours. He was loosing it. Zoe spoke slowly, but forcefully. As difficult as it was, she knew she’d have to get him to pull himself together.

‘I think we should get out of the vall