Disclaimer – Everything either does belong to Joss or it should. I’m just borrowing his shiny ‘verse for a while.

The 21st Lancers belong to the British Army so I’m borrowing them too. I hope they don’t mind.

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‘You don’t call me Sir, I work for a living’

Every Army NCO since the days of the Roman Legions

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Temporary Independent Military Headquarters – Toulouse – 2522AD

Mal Reynolds was not in the best of moods and it showed in his expression and demeanour as he stomped up the ornate staircase. He’d only just got back from Higgins Moon and had been planning to go see Inara straight away but instead he’d been met by a message at the Spaceport to report immediately to headquarters.

The Corporal at the reception desk had steered him towards the top floor of the Governors Mansion which meant Senior Officers country and that in turn meant big trouble. Usually if anyone much over the rank of Captain wanted to talk to an NCO it meant they had a really crappy job they were going to foist on someone and in Mal’s experience that meant some poor Sergeant, likely himself, wading through the shit.

There was a library room at the end of the corridor that had led from the stairs, with a Militia Private standing guard on the door. The Militiaman had been expecting him and swung open the door whereupon Mal found himself surprised to see River looking over the books.

‘Nice to see you sweetheart’ Mal said warmly his mood brightening a bit. He really was a mean old man at times but he had deep feelings for his crew and in some ways thought of both River and Kaylee as being practically daughters. Not necessarily perfect daughters but he had a sort of fatherly attitude to them regardless.

River turned and looked at him with a slightly annoyed expression. ‘Are we forgetting something Soldier?’ she asked rhetorically.

Mal’s expression switched back from its temporary warmness to a stony visage. ‘Sorry Ma’am won’t happen again Ma’am’ he said and saluted.

Ri