Close. So close.

Simon Tam stood on a dock at the edge of town, sunglasses over his eyes and his doctor’s valise clutched in his right hand. He scanned the crowd for his contact, straining in the afternoon light. He felt like a fool – wearing dark glasses at sunset – but his contact had been specific. A porter approached him, and Simon handed the man his claim ticket, or rather, the claim ticket for one Dr. Niles Hawke. Simon hated the name. Hated it. It sounded like a name from some stupid mind-numbing mid-afternoon operatic trash vid. But in that, his contact had also been very specific. So Simon swallowed his pride, and although he wore the name with somewhat less than enthusiastic vigor, he reminded himself that he would do and had done worse. It didn’t matter, as long as it took him one tiny step closer to his sister.

And at last, he was so close. He could practically touch her.

The porter returned with Simon’s bags and a message that his car was waiting near the end of the dock. He handed Simon his bags and his transport ticket for the cabbie, and bowed as he left. Simon slung his bag across one shoulder and strode purposefully off the dock.

Torin met him halfway to the car. Like Simon, he was dressed as a doctor. The planet was crawling with them, attracted from worlds near and far to one of the most prestigious medical conventions in the ‘verse. However, unlike Simon, Torin wasn’t a doctor. Not even close. Simon wasn’t quite sure what he was, and Torin had never offered the information. They weren’t really on those sorts of terms.

Entering the car, Torin and Simon made small talk for the sake of the driver. The older man steered the conversation toward the convention, lodgings, the latest medical journals, and everything else he could think of. The chatter set Simon’s teeth on edge and made him want to leap across the seat and throttle Torin. Instead he talked about dermal weaves and holistic medication and prayed for the ride to be over soon.

Within an hour, the cab had reached a group of posh buildings at the edge of town – the lodgings for the cream of the crop. As Dr. Hawke, Simon had managed to secure a room there after the sudden cancellation of another doctor several months before – one Simon Tam. The irony wasn’t lost on him.

Tiron entered Simon’s suite of rooms, holding his finger to his lips as he scanned the room for bugs. Finally nodding, he dropped the cheerful demeanor he had been carting around all afternoon and gave Simon an unreadable look.

“We’ve hit a snag.”

***

The damage wouldn’t have looked so bad had it still been dark. However, lights blazed and spun around the site, throwing it into haphazard shards. The entire scene was bathed in eerie white light, an odd counterpoint to the shambles that lay in their beams.

What was left of the Academy lay in an ashy heap at the center of the carnage. Twisted beams of metal, plasteel, computer terminals and everything else lay scattered haphazardly across the half-kilometer square lot. Simon stood on a hilltop above the wreckage, his mouth slightly open as he stared numbly.

“Burnt to the ground this morning. There were some protestors – they’re been blamed for starting it. Fact is, no one knows exactly what happened. All the newscasters have been saying is that it started quiet and burned fast. They’re not sure yet if there have been any survivors. From what they’ve been able to find, they’re pretty sure they’ve accounted for all of the… for everyone.” He placed an awkward hand on the younger man’s shoulder. “Dr. Tam… I’m so sorry.”

Simon barely heard him. He continued staring at the remains of his sister’s school long after he heard the older man leave.

***

He was sitting on the ground in the exact same place when Torin found him hours later.

“We need to get you out of here,” he said without preamble. “Loki intercepted a wave about 20 minutes ago that could be very bad for you.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Simon managed. “None of it matters.”

“Does so,” retorted the older man, hauling Simon to his feet. “They find you, they find us. I want you off this planet. You’re not the only one up to his eyes in this mess.”

Simon stumbled along behind him. “She’s not there.”

“’Course she’s not.”

“I’d know. She’s not carbon. I mean, she is. We all are. But not… she’s not. She can’t be.”

Tiron all but dragged Simon by the collar of his shirt. “News can be wrong. I’ll admit that. Couple of people came forward a little later and said there seemed to be a lot of activity prior to the fire. Then they turned around and recanted less than an hour later, said it was all protestors and they didn’t see nothin’. Don’t matter. You need to be gone. She ain’t here. Whether that means the Great Nothin’ or not doesn’t concern you.”

“I’ve got nothing left.”

“We’ve got enough to get you off planet and a bit of help. You can go from there. We’ll be in touch.”

Within the hour, Simon sat strapped into an uncomfortable chair in the steerage section of an Orpheus class transport. He didn’t remember where he was going. He stared out the window with the sad realization that it really didn’t matter anymore.

***

Six months later Eavesdown Docks, Persephone

Simon Tam stood in the dust at the edge of civilization. He stared down the line of ships, with their displays, hawkers and fresh paint. Walking past the inaccurately-named Dreadnaught, past the Sinawava, he stopped briefly at the Paragon, where the hawker was starting the bidding on the three final suites on board. Shaking his head, he paced further down the dock. He was stopped by a cheerful voice.

“Boros bound?” it called. Simon turned to see a young woman under a parasol, all smiles and apple-pie. “Ain’t no smoother ship on this pier. We’ll get you there in no time.” Simon looked past her at the derelict sitting on the landing pad. He looked back to the Paragon, where the hawker was down to two fabulous, roomy suites with great views.

“Don’t bother,” said the girl, following his eyes. You’d be sick as a dog ‘fore you ever broke atmo. Piece of go-se like that ain’t worth the landing gear it’s sittin’ on.” She gave him a radiant smile. “Trust me.”

He looked at her, then at the two men already loading their gear on board. One was a mousy man with brown hair and a skittery look, while the other looked suspiciously like a man of the cloth. He inwardly shrugged – he’d been worse places. Simon did his best to smile at the young woman. “I’ll take passage for one,” he managed.

“Glad to hear it,” replied the young woman. “I’m Kaylee. What’s your name?”

Doc- he stopped before the words made it out of his mouth. “I’m Simon,” he replied. “Simon Tam.” He smiled awkwardly. “Just Simon.”

Kaylee gave him an odd look before she came to help him with his bags. “Well, Just Simon,” she replied. “Welcome to Serenity.”