The sun dipped lower onto the horizon, lengthening the shadows in the alley. A rat scrambled across a load of trash, and the man pressed himself further against the brick wall. He clutched the cross hanging around his neck and his lips moved in silent prayer. Our father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name…

Full darkness slowly stole over the alley, and the man crept toward the street. He looked furtively around, one hand pressed against the building for support, the other hovering over the gun on his hip. It didn't sit quite right in the holster, and looked too small to be of much use. Seeing no one, he slipped out onto the dusty back road. He kept to the shadows, using doorways and alleys to hide him, but moved rapidly, heading for somewhere he knew well.

His destination was soon in sight, and he allowed himself a sigh of relief. Letting his guard drop, he dashed quickly across the street and behind the building to the backdoor. He knocked softly in a recognizable pattern -- twice, pause, twice, pause, once -- and waited for the door to open.

Light spilled into the alley, a woman's silhouette framed in the entrance. "Zach? That you?" she asked, her voice low.

"It's me."

The woman sighed, and sunk against the wooden frame in relief. "Oh, thank the Lord. Get in here. I'll take you up the back stairs." She tilted her head, but didn't wait for him to follow before she padded quickly and quietly to the stairs.

Zach smiled, the tension in his body releasing in a bark of laughter. The woman turned and glared at him, bringing her finger to her lips before heading for the stairs again. Zach frowned apologetically, and followed silently.

The wooden steps creaked under their combined weight, but the sound was drowned out as a piano started playing. Zach followed the woman through the second-floor hallway, working to keep up with her long strides. She unlocked the last door on the left, leaving it open for him to follow her. "Listen, if anyone finds you in here, I'm in trouble, so be quiet and careful. The 'Wave machine is over there, and the code to call is 2839." She leaned in to give him a peck on the cheek. "Good luck."

With that, she slipped out the door, the latch almost silent. Zach collapsed into the chair and punched in the code she'd given him and a number he'd memorized by heart. He only prayed his sergeant would answer.

"Mal? Mal, you have a 'wave." Wash's voice, distorted slightly by the intercom, boomed down to kitchen. "Wanna come up and get it?."

Mal frowned. If it were Badger, checking in about the upcoming Constance job, Wash would have said; besides, that was a simple smash and grab operation. Setting down the gun he'd been cleaning and reassembling, he walked to the cockpit and clicked on the screen, nodding at Zoe as she fell in behind him. "Mal here."

"Sarge? Oh thank god." The man on the screen smiled. A smudge of dirt crossed his face, and there was a cut above his right eyebrow. A large purple and yellow bruise circled his left eye; it looked relatively fresh, but healing, not more than a week old. His hair stuck up in multiple directions, and wasn't very clean. "Sergeant, you gotta help me," he said, his voice low and breathy.

For a moment, Mal didn't speak. The man's smile faltered, the brightness in his eyes dimming. "Sarge?"

"Zach? What did you do?" Mal finally found his voice, his words coming out harder than intended.

"I didn't do nothing, Sarge, I swear. I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time, and what with being a Browncoat and all…it looked bad." Zach looked behind him, then dropped his voice even lower. "I just need to get off this rock."

"Zach, you're asking for my help and you don't even have the decency to tell me what I'm risking my crew and my ship for?" Mal's eyes narrowed and he stood up a little straighter.

Glancing back behind him again, Zach sighed. "I got in a fight, Sarge. Me and a couple of the guys I met here went to a bar, and we got pretty drunk." Mal could see his hands rubbing together nervously at the bottom of the screen. "Some guy started trash-talking the Independents, and, well, I got a little riled up."

Mal closed his eyes, pressing the heel of his hand to his forehead. He had an idea where this story was going.

"Sarge, don't do that. You know I was never a fighter." Zach's voice was pleading. "But it turned into an out and out brawl, and the first guy..." He bit his bottom lip, pain clear on his face. "The first guy never got up. Since I was the first one on him, they're tryin' to pin murder on me, 'cause someone's gotta pay."

"Gaoyang zhong de guyang!" Mal slammed the flat of his fist against the wall. "You're asking a lot of a man you ain't seen in a long time. How am I to know you didn't catch the man in bed with your girl and beat the hell of him?"

Zach closed his eyes and looked down. "You know I ain't like that, Sarge. You know I don't like to fight, and I never meant nobody to get kilt." He stared at his hands for a moment, then fixed his eyes on Mal's. "Sarge..."

"Where are you?"

"Zephus. Hiding. Is there any way…" The younger man let his question hang, eyes hopeful.

"We’re at least two days out," Wash offered when Mal looked at him.

"Zach -- I’ve got a job lined up. Have you tried Marcus? Hollarhan? Dykstra?"

"I don’t know where they’re at, Sarge. Could be dead for all I know and ‘sides, you’re the only one with a transport. They’ll kill me if they find me here."

Mal sighed in frustration and looked over his shoulder. "Zo’," he muttered, "you know we can’t…"

"Don’t see why not, Sir. He’s one of ours."

"Yeah, well so was Tracey and look where that got us. And you know Zach…he ain’t always the most upfront." His whisper was ferocious. "Don’t rightly feel like losing two days if we don’t need to."

"We trained with him, Sir," she replied just as softly. "He’s one of ours."

Mal pressed his forehead into his hands. He could hear the underlying steel in Zoe’s tone and knew, despite how tempting it was to tell Zach to find someone else, that he would go get him. Zoe was right -- the man was one of theirs, not that it counted for much nowadays. And, for some reason, he and Zoe both had always had a soft spot for the younger man, despite the trouble he managed to get into. The desperation in Zach’s voice was hard to ignore. After a few moments of silence, Mal looked up. His voice was soft, resigned. "Where can we meet you?"

The air within Serenity thrummed with tension. They were docked on Zephus, one of two moons in the Antiope system, and Mal and Zoe had gone out alone on some secret mission. Kaylee, River and Jayne sat in the mess, edgy and nervous.

Kaylee watched over River as the younger woman worked on her knitting. "What d'you think is so important that the cap'n and Zoe wouldn't tell us nothing?" Even as she spoke, she reached over to correct River's technique.

"Family," River answered cryptically.

Jayne snorted from his seat on the other side of the table. "Mal ain't got any family, and they certainly wouldn't be this far out on the rim, if he had 'em." He pinched a mass of noodles with his chopsticks. "This place weren't settled but twenty years ago," he added just before shoving the food in his mouth.

Kaylee frowned disapprovingly at Jayne. "People move, you know. Where do you think settlers come from?"

Before Jayne could answer, River interrupted. "Not that kind of family. Not all family is bone of my bones and flesh of my flesh."

Jayne shot River a hard look, which she ignored, her eyes never leaving the project in her hands. "Anyhow, Kaylee, I don't think Mal's family's the type to settle a place like Zephus. Nor Amphion, and that moon's softer than this 'un."

Shrugging, Kaylee corrected River's stitch again. "People surprise you, you know."

Wash's voice crackled over the intercom. "Captain and Zoe's incoming, and it looks like we have hostiles chasing them. Jayne, get down to the cargo bay."

"Ni tama de tianxia suoyou de ren duo gaisi! Can't Mal go anywhere without trying to get me shot at?" Jayne slammed his chopsticks on the table and jumped up, heading toward his bunk and his weapon stash.

Kaylee's eyes went wide at the pronouncement, and she stumbled off the bench as she tried to stand. "We should get Simon, make sure the infirmary's ready." Without waiting for an answer, the mechanic headed off in the direction of the passenger dorms, leaving River alone in the mess.

Within minutes, the rest of the crew, minus Wash who was ready to take off as soon as everyone was aboard, had gathered in the cargo bay. Simon held his medical bag, ready for any injuries Mal and Zoe had sustained. Kaylee stood next to the airlock, behind a crate, ready to open and close it as soon as they were close enough. Jayne hunched behind another crate, rifle pointed at the still-closed airlock doors.

"NOW!" Mal's voice rang in their ears even thought the intercom, and Kaylee slammed the button to open the airlock. Bullets pinged off the metal ramp as it lowered too slowly for the crew's taste. A dark-haired man dove into the cargo bay and huddled away from the door. Mal and Zoe backed in, returning fire to the men chasing them. "Shut it, Kaylee! Wash, GO!"

Speechless, Kaylee smashed the button again, and the ramp pulled up, and Serenity was off the ground before it clicked into place. Simon rushed to Mal's side, medical bag at the ready. "Is anyone hurt?"

"Just clipped me, doc. Nothing for you to worry about." The captain held his hand tightly against his upper arm, blood seeping through his fingers.

"Let me be the judge of that," Simon muttered as he pulled out a bandage.

While Simon and Mal argued about Mal's wound, the rest of the crew stared at the third member of the returning group. The man slowly climbed to his feet, dusting off his filthy pants. He flashed the crew a wide, cheerful smile. "Uh, hi."

"Who the hell is this? This who you're getting shot at for?" Jayne glared at the man as he clicked the safety on his rifle. "Don't look much like he's worth it to me."

Suddenly, River was at his side, making Jayne jump. "Family is always worth it."

"Gorram moonbrain, don't go creeping up on a body! It ain't right, you being all sneaky and quiet-like." Jayne moved away from River, keeping a distrustful eye on her the whole time.

Zoe moved to the young man's side. "This is Zach. He fought with me and the captain during the war, and got himself in a bit of trouble here on Zephus. We're just giving him a lift. No more than that."

Jayne opened his mouth, but Mal cut him off. "I don't want to hear any protests. It's my boat, and what's done is done. Now, if you all are done gawking like little schoolgirls, you mind if we take this somewhere a mite more comfortable?"

As the crew filed out of the cargo bay, Jayne muttered, "Now we're carrying three 'fugies? How is this a good plan?"

"So there I was, drunker than I think I'd ever been in my life, standing on a table in just my shorts, reciting the Independent creed for the whole bar." Everyone accept Mal laughed uproariously at this as Wash came striding in. "And that is why Sarge and Zoe and I never drink Santo tequila."

Wash plopped down next to his wife. "What'd I miss?" he asked, a plaintive look on his face.

"Just reminiscing, husband," Zoe said, placing her hand fondly on his arm. "Talking about old times."

Jayne snorted. "Hearing about Mal and Zoe getting liquored up and doing something stupid, more like."

Kaylee punched him lightly on the arm and Zoe arched an eyebrow at Jayne. "I can still hurt you."

Zach chuckled. "Same old Zoe. There was this one time, we were training out on Verbena, and a bunch of us went to this bar. It was, how many you think, Sarge?" He looked at Mal, who just shrugged. "Oh, like to be fifteen, twenty guys, and Zoe. 'Course, we all knew not to mess with her; she'd as soon whack you over the head as look at you, but the locals, they just saw a beautiful woman who was new to town."

Wash nudged Zoe with his elbow. "She is beautiful." She shot him a look. "And scary. Very scary," he added hastily.

Zach chuckled. "That she is. But anyhow, these guys all came up and tried to get her to dance. We were all on our way to drunk, me and the Sarge and all the boys, but Zoe tried to keep sober most of the time we were offbase, to keep us out of trouble." He grinned at Mal. "Seems like some of us needed it more than others, and I think I was one of the dumbest. Sarge wasn't nearly so bad."

Kaylee giggled. "Cap'n don't like to be silly. Got a stick up his pi gu size of--"

"Kaylee!" Mal shouted. "Keep in mind you're talking about your employer here."

Clapping a hand over her mouth, Kaylee tried to keep a straight face. "Yes sir," she mumbled, muffled through her fingers.

Zach's face contorted in an effort to keep a smile off his face. "Well, anyway. Zoë was sitting over at a table, minding her own business, and a bunch of us were playing holo-pool with the locals. One of them, drunk as can be, gets it in his head that he's gonna take 'that pretty curly-haired thing' -- his words, not mine, Zo' -- out on a date. 'Course, Zoë didn't so much agree with that, what with him looking like a dirty polecat and smelling worse. So he heads over and starts this whispered conversation, but instead of coming out of the encounter with a date, he came out of it with a look like a pickled frog, eyes all bugged out and his face as green as you please." He grinned and looked a Zoë. "Never did figure out what she said to him what scared him so bad."

"And you never will know, Private," Zoë said in a tone that brooked no argument.

"Hell, I'd like to know too," Jayne added, looking at Zoë across the table.

Mal's face had been growing harder as he listened to the story about Zoe. He wondered if there was a single person besides himself who had any idea what Zoe'd been through in that war, how many men she'd had to deal with hassling her, grabbing her. They'd called her cold, and they'd called her hard, but they'd never for one minute, let her be anything else. "I think that's just about enough of stories," he said, thickly.

"Aw, come on, Mal," Wash said, grinning widely and nudging Zoë playfully. "We all want to hear."

Zoë turned slowly to Wash, her eyebrow raised high, her face a mask of calm, though she was completely attuned to Mal and his shifting mood. "Really, Wash?"

Wash blinked and smiled broadly. "You know, I think I'll be fine. I don't really want to know anymore." He nodded vigorously until she turned away from him.

Jayne grumbled something from across the table, his eyes on the half-eaten sandwich in front of him, and Zoë shot him a similar look. "Yeah, I think I'll die happy if I never know what you said to make some kids balls shrivel up like that. I like my pecker nice and healthy."

Simon cringed. "Do you have to talk about things like that at the table?"

Jayne looked at him, a look of honest confusion on his face. "Why?" He paused for a moment, then turned to Book. "Sorry Shepherd." The older man nodded his forgiveness.

Eyes wide, Simon continued to stare as if Jayne had grown a second head. Jayne frowned, taking a bite of his sandwich. Around a mouthful of bread and protein he said, "What? Ain't no ladies about and I'm the only one what's eatin'. Doesn't bother me none."

Simon stared at him. "Need I remind you that Zoë, Kaylee, and my little sister are listening?"

Jayne stared back. "Like I said. Ain't any ladies about." Kaylee elbowed him in the side, prompting a muttered curse. "Gorram it!"

"And do I need to remind you about keeping a civil tongue in your head? Or is that beyond your comprehension?" Mal snapped.

Jayne rolled his eyes and took bite of the sandwich, but remained silent.

Kaylee smiled sunnily at Zach. "You got an awful lot of stories about the captain and Zoë, don't you?"

"Well, we trained together for six months on Verbena, then I fought under Sarge for more'n a year. Got transferred out just before Serenity Valley," he said, turning to Mal. "Still wish I'd been there for you, Sarge. It weren't fair."

"You'd have just died with the rest of 'em," Mal muttered darkly. "'Sides, we ain't talking about that now."

An awkward silence gripped them for a moment. River shifted uncomfortably in her seat, looking from Mal to Zach. Both men stared at the table, avoiding the eyes of the rest of the crew. Frowning, Kaylee pursed her lips, looking ashamed that she'd brought on such a bad train of thought.

Wash broke the unnatural hush. "So, I think we need to hear more about Mal doing some embarrassing things. Like crazy pranks and wearing dresses and the like."

Zach's face lit up and his eyes started to sparkle. "Pranks, huh?"

"Think we've all had our bellyful of funny stories just now," Mal said, his voice hard and threatening.

"Aw, but it's a damn funny story! And Kaylee here thinks you're all work and no play, and well," he winked, "that ain't exactly true."

"Aint it?" Mal said coldly. "I reckon there's some who'd feel differently. Tracey, for one."

There was a dead silence as he said that. "You...shouldn't oughta talk about him like that," Kaylee whispered.

"Yeah? And maybe the rest of you shouldn't oughta be talkin' at all. War's long done, and you don't know the first thing about me, son, and you might wanna be rememberin' that," Mal said, glaring at Zach. He stood up then, kicking his chair back. "I got work to do, even if the rest of you don't." He strode away, sick and tired of hearing about the past.

There was a long silence. "Should I go...apologize or somethin'? I didn't mean no harm. Just thought y'all'd think it was funny's all."

"Go ahead, Private," Zoe said calmly, trying to restore order. "Reckon they'd like to hear about it."

Simon, holding two cups of tea, returned to the table and handed one to River, who cradled it in her hands, large eyes focused on Zach. "So what was this prank?" he asked cautiously.

Zach's grin returned, a little uncertainly. "Well, we were training on Verbena, like I said. There was one drill sergeant that no one, and I mean no one liked. Meanest old sumbitch I've ever met --"

"Meaner than that hunk of meat?" Wash interjected, pointing to Jayne.

Jayne shot him a glare. "Watch yourself, little man. Just 'cause your woman can hurt me don't mean you can."

Zach laughed. "Yeah. Much meaner. This guy had recruits in tears on a regular basis. Sure, we all needed toughing up, being about as green as you can get, but some of the kids were threatening to leave, and us being the underdogs, we needed all the bodies that we could get.

"Well, one Saturday night, we were all playing tall card in the barracks and drinking. This new kid, Rogers, was really getting the short end of the stick from the drill sergeant from hell, for no good reason. Well, he starts bellyaching, and Sarge gets it in his head that we can run this tama de hun dan out on his ass. We're all good and liquored up by now, me and Sarge especially. So we start plotting ways to get rid of the bastard…"

"And then what?" Kaylee said, leaning forward.

"Now you are bein' impatient," Zach scolded teasingly. "Can't no one keep this girl in check, or is it y'all just don't wanna?"

"Hell, even the cap'n can't resist them puppy eyes," Jayne snorted.

"Yeah? Don't know as I blame him," Zach said, grinning at Kaylee, who blushed, pleased.

"You wanna get back to the story?" Zoe demanded coolly, falling easily into the role of second in Mal's absence. "Don't reckon the captain'd take kindly to you sweet-talkin' his mechanic. You ain't gonna be around so long, remember?"

"Well, it's nice to be appreciated around here," Kaylee replied, crossing her arms and frowning. "Seems like the only men who notice me are only here for a few days, then run off and get themselves shot or dropped off on outer rim planets or some such. Wish we could keep 'em around for a bit."

A dark color had crept up into Simon's face, and he opened his mouth to say something. Zach saw it and cut him off. "All right, all right. Back to the story. So me and Sarge are making all these crazy plans to get rid of Drill Sergeant Hun Dan, ones what involve way too much effort for a couple of drunks to pull off. Zoë here talked some sense into us, and tried to put us to bed before we got ourselves a month of latrine duty. But not us," he said, shaking his head. "We were determined. It weren't so much that we like Rogers, 'cause we all thought he cheated at cards, but more that we'd got this idea in our heads, and weren't excited to let it go.

"So, finally we come up with a plan. It's short and simple, and hard to trace back to anyone. It was gonna take a little bit of stealth, but we needed to get the supplies, so we were a bit more sober by the time we were ready. We snuck into the officer's barracks, right past the sleeping guard, and found the drill sergeant's bed. His boots were sitting at the end, polished black as night, just like he tried to get us to do every damn day. We were ready." He paused for dramatic effect, looking around at the crew.

"Did you piss in 'em?" Jayne demanded.

Zach winked. "Just hold your horses, everything will be revealed in good time." He took a drink of his tea. "Turns out this particular drill sergeant was allergic to the powdered laundry detergent they used in the camp. Had to have his clothes washed special, or else he turned patchy beet red for weeks. So me and Sarge rubbed the inside of his boots with the stuff, enough that he'd go all red, but not enough that he'd notice it right away. We were just about finished, and he started to wake up. We hightailed it outta there, and got away clean."

Simon's mouth dropped open. "You deliberately provoked and allergic reaction? What if he'd gone into anaphylactic shock? You could have killed him!"

Zach blinked and frowned, turning to Zoe. "He always like this?"

"So, what happened?" Ignoring Simon's concerns, Kaylee grinned. "Did he leave?"

"Not right away, no. It took a little more'n a day before the rash started; we thought we hadn't put enough. But then his legs started getting red, creeping up from his boots to his knees. Next day it was on his arms, and he was a cussin' up a storm. Tried to figure out who'd washed his clothes in the bad stuff, but of course, no one had. Took a week for the stuff to disappear, and that whole time we couldn't stop laughing. Nearly got ourselves caught, grinning at him the way we was. He puffed out his chest and acted all tough, but it's hard to take a man seriously when his face is all splotchy and he can't keep from scratchin'." Zach laughed in retrospect. "Took him another couple weeks to transfer out; guess he left to head up some special ops. Turns out the guys up top didn't so much like how he treated the recruits either."

A soft rumbling emanated from Zach's stomach and he clapped a hand over it. "Well, sounds like I'm hungry. When's dinner around here?"

Book smiled. "It's about that time, son. Can you cook?"

Grinning, he nodded. "Definitely. Just ask Sarge and Zoë. Didn't like to let anyone else cook when I was around."

Book stood. "Well then, you can help me in the kitchen. We don't have much, but we try to make it taste good."

Zach stood as well, following Book to the pantry. "You guys got any basil? You need basil for anything decent." The two men's conversation became muted as they walked into the small pantry.

"So what are we plannin' on doing with him?" Jayne had finished his sandwich, and pulled out a small knife. He started cleaning under his nails with it.

"Trust Jayne to get to the point," Wash muttered. "Can't we keep him, Zo'? He's a lot more entertaining than that thing," he said, motioning to Jayne. "It'd be a fair trade."

Jayne glared. "Don't push your luck."

"What? He can string words together and make sentences. It's a skill you should look into."

"Cap'n and I'll get it sorted while they're cookin'. Maybe Santo or some such. Somewhere he can't get into too much trouble," Zoë said, standing up.

As if on cue, the two men returned to the kitchen, laden with spices and flavorings. "Alright, everyone out! Can't cook with you all watching." Zach grinned as he dropped his armful of pantry goods on the counter. "Out!"

The crew and passengers settled in around the table as Zach and Book placed the dishes they'd prepared in the center. "I still can't believe you let a Shepherd on board your boat, Sarge," Zach said as he settled into his seat. He grinned at Mal. "Heard you’d given up on God after Serenity Valley."

"After he gave up on me..." Mal muttered darkly. "He ain’t a Shepherd on this ship, he’s the cook."

Zach ignored his comment. "Can you say Grace, Shepherd? I haven't been to church in a long time."

"I really don't think that would be appropriate," Book said quietly, glancing at Mal. The captain had been in a mood ever since they’d changed course to rescue their guest. Seemed he’d been angry ever since that Lassiter job had turned bad. Saying grace at the table would do nothing to improve his disposition. Besides, Book hadn’t really prayed he’d returned to the ship either. He’d tried to, but the words had lodged in his throat. He wondered if God would even listen to him anymore.

"Of course it's appropriate! It'd be more inappropriate if we ate without giving thanks for what we've got."

Simon snorted. "You want to give thanks for barely edible protein mash and rice?"

"Better than some stuff I've eaten," Zach countered. "And a good sight better than nothing." He turned back to Book. "Shepherd, I'd be much obliged if you'd do the honors."

Book shook his head. "I really don't think I should."

"You can say that again. You want to pray, Zach, you go on and do it in your head. Rest of us don't really care to hear it said out loud. Even Preacher's got the idea." As he said it, Mal looked sideways at Book, considering. It was strange for Book to be so hard to convince to pray.

Zach sighed and looked at Zoe. She shook her head almost imperceptibly at him and picked up her chopsticks. Defeated, Zach bent his head over his bowl of rice, mouth moving in silent prayer, before he picked up his own utensils.

"Well, can ya tell us more about what happened? You told us some stories, but you gotta have more. You said you fought with Cap'n and Zoe for more than a year," Kaylee chirped once Zach's head rose.

"War stories?"

"That might be a bit much for the womenfolk," Jayne piped up. "'Specially the one in the loud shirt down there," he added, indicating Wash with his chopsticks.

"But you're the one the boys all like," Wash replied cheekily.

Jayne flushed. "You sorry son of a–"

"Jayne, shut it," Zoe said, voice sharp as a whip crack. Disgruntled, he went back to eating.

Kaylee turned her sunny smile back to Zach, ignoring Wash and Jayne's spat and Simon's pointed stare. "Yeah, war stories. I ain't scared of 'em none."

"Little Kaylee, I don't think that's table appropriate," Mal cautioned.

"Well Jayne ain't generally table appropriate, but we let him stay," she replied cheekily. Jayne simply shrugged, silently agreeing with Kaylee's assessment.

Zach took a bite of rice, considering. "Kaylee, the war weren't all fun and games. In general, it weren't fun at all. I got stories about the war, sure, but they ain't the kind you tell with a smile on your face. They're the kind you keep to yourself, trying to keep those you love from ever experiencing what you gone through." He looked up at Kaylee, smiling sadly. "You're too good of a woman for me to tell you the things we saw out there."

Kaylee's smile faltered for a moment, and she took a bite to cover. "Well, what happened after the war," she finally asked. "That ain't nearly so bad, I guess."

"True, it ain't so bad, but it's really boring. Nothing that's of interest to you, I'm sure," Zach said, picking up a mass of protein and bringing it to his mouth.

"But it is," Kaylee protested. "We don't get too many new people around here and you're a born story-teller. You’ve been telling the best tales I've heard in a dog's age."

Zach grinned self-consciously, a faint blush tingeing his cheeks, the earlier seriousness pushed to the back of the crew's mind. "Thanks, Kaylee. Coming from a girl pretty as you, that's a real compliment." He took a bite of his rice, savoring the taste for a moment. "After the war it was hard to go back to how it was before. Home was gone, family was gone. There wasn't anything for me to go back to anymore."

"Happens more often than not," Mal murmured, face hard.

"So I fell in with some other Browncoats, took some odd jobs. Never went well around Alliance Day, but you know how that is."

Zoe smiled at that. "I surely do. Always an interesting time around here, that’s for sure."

"But you can really only knock about for so long afore you get in trouble." Zach shrugged as he ate a mouthful of rice. "Weren't my fault Alliance can't keep their goods."

Kaylee's eyes widened but it was Inara who spoke next. "What did you take?"

"Seeds, mostly. Tools, food bars, supplies. Sometimes money. Weren't much of that though. Alliance out on the Rim's just about as poor as the rest of us."

"Seems like that's all items settlers would need," Simon said. His voice carried a hint of disapproval in it, though whether it was because of the job or because the man had been flirting with Kaylee all night was anybody's guess.

Zach stared at Simon, an eyebrow raised. "Who'd you think I was giving it to?"

Simon blinked, confused. "So where was it supposed to go?"

"Weren't marked for any border worlds that needed it," Zach insisted. He pushed his bowl aside and leaned forward, using his chopsticks to point at Simon. "The seeds were set to go to some Core planet that ain't got good growin' soil for it anyhow. How are you gonna raise a crop if the dirt's so irradiated won’t nothin’ grow? You can't raise the same crop year after year and expect it to go as well, ‘specially if you do it the Core way and force the crops to go. Eventually, the soil will just give out. You need to rotate crops every few years, renew the soil, add back the stuff the plants take out. Look to nature, Doc. It takes care of its own, it got the good sense to let the ground renew itself. I know what I'm talkin' about here, I lived on a farm my whole life, up until the war. You can't get a good crop worth livin' on if the dirt's about to die."

"Dirt is an amalgam of weathered stone and decayed matter. It would require more to replenish itself to full potential," River murmured. She shrugged at Zach's stunned expression.

"Done any farming recently?" Mal asked, shifting the conversation to safer territory.

"Well no, but some things are just in the blood. You can't leave it behind."

"There's farmland on Haven," he noted, eyes on Zoe rather than Zach.

"There is," Zoe agreed, looking at Mal. She turned to Zach. "Good people, too. The town's struggling pretty hard to make a go of it. Mostly, it’s a mining town – or was, until the mines stopped producing. It’s out on the edge, so the Alliance ain’t got no reason to go there anymore. Means the settlers can pretty much do what they want, but also means they don’t get near the supplies they need. Last time we were there…must have been near about two years ago now, they’d decided to make a go with farming the land on the outskirts of the settlement. We’d stopped off to drop off some supplies and a few new settlers…you might know some of them. There aren't too many there that know about farming properly."

"They could use a teacher, I suppose," Zach said.

"Probably could," Mal agreed. "Think it's a good enough place to stay a spell?"

Zach chewed another bit of rice. "Might be. I ain't never been afraid of hard work. What's it like?"

Zoe shrugged. "'Bout like any Rim planet. Miners, farmers, settlers, those displaced by the Core expanding outward. More than a few of them are former Browncoats. None of them harbor any love for the Alliance." She smiled. "Our kind of people."

"You'd fit right in there, being a 'fugee and all," Jayne said around a mouthful of food. "Too damn many of 'em down there. Who's after you anyway?"

"Who ain’t?" Zach evaded smoothly. "Besides, sometimes it just don't matter where you come from. Sometimes it just matters where you go on from there."

"Everything matters. Everyone remembers, no one forgets, nothing is erased completely."

Zach looked on at River in surprise. "You think so?"

"Of course." She rose from her seat and glided from the room.

"Don't mind her... She ain't all upstairs all the time," Jayne offered helpfully in the awkward silence. He answered the glares shot his way with a shrug. "What? 's true."

Inara shook her head. "Jayne, must you insult her every chance you get?"

Jayne just shrugged. "Guess so."

Mal shushed the crew. "Listen, we've got a job on Constance, then we'll set a course for Haven. The job'll go pretty quick, and we'll be at Haven in about three days," Mal said in his final tone of voice. "You'll see if you like it there or not. Good people, lots of work to do. It's enough to keep a man's hands busy for years if you like."

"It's a chance, son. Everyone deserves a second chance." Book's voice was soft, his look almost wistful. He shook his head and leaned toward Zach. "Seems like Haven might be just what you're looking for."

Kaylee nodded, smiling. "And if you're as good with the ground as you say you are, folks'll be more'n happy to have you."

"Ain't no boast, Kaylee," Zach said proudly. "Used to work Ma's farm, used to do lots come harvest time. But work like that's hard to do during wartime, and it sure as hell ain't easy to do on the run. Easy to pick up a messenger job, easy to do what needs doin'. But it ain't the same as having a home. If this place is more like a home..." He seemed to deflate somewhat. "I'm tired of running. I feel old afore my time."

Book nodded wistfully as the younger man spoke. "I understand the feeling, more than you might know." He paused and Mal caught his eye with a quizzical look. The Shepherd turned away quickly. "That's when you know it's time to settle somewhere. You can't always walk around the world a spell."

"You can try for as long as you can," Kaylee murmured, looking at Book almost sadly.

He smiled at her. "That's just so. You have to know how to listen for when the time's right."

Continue to part two