New People - Part V
Thursday, February 1, 2007

Maya. Post-BDM. A little bit about Zoe's past ... it sort of fits in here. The next story is coming (still working on it). I'd be happy to know what you think!


Zoe’s past was like a closed book to the crew of Serenity. No-one knew much about it, not even the Captain, but he probably knew more than most. He at least knew she was born in space, on a freighter between worlds, her parents working for the man in charge.

“It’s a girl?” Boxer asked, looking down into the makeshift crib.

“Her name’s Zoe.”

“Got a strong pair of lungs on her.” He flinched a little as the wailing began again.

“She’s hungry,” Tom Alleyne said. “Meg’s just getting ready to feed her.”

“Well, keep her out of the workings. Don’t want to be chasing after a kid through the cargo.”

“It’ll be a while before you need to worry about that,” Alleyne said, smiling. “Only just born.”

“Yeah, well.” Boxer looked down again. “Pretty little thing.”

Growing up on a freighter wasn’t so bad. As a child Zoe hardly ever set foot on a planet or moon, spending all her time in the black. Until the day of the accident.

She was barely sixteen, tall and gangly, just beginning to fill out a little. Her hair, long and lustrous, was considered her best feature, which was why she kept it tightly out of the way, pinned down and controlled. Her mother, dark-skinned and beautiful, despaired.

“Zoe, why can’t you be more feminine?” she asked for the thousandth time.

The girl shrugged. “It ain’t me, Ma.” She pushed an errant lock back into place. “I’m not the kinda girl who can be pretty.”

“That ain’t true,” Meg Alleyne retorted. “You’re going to be stunning, my girl, and put me to shame.”

Zoe laughed. “Never happen. No-one’s prettier than you.”

“Well, you just bear in mind that some men don’t want pretty. And they might try to take advantage of you, just because they think they can.”

“If they tried they’d be dead.”

Meg shook her head. “If I didn’t know Tom was your father, I’d be able to guess. You sound just like him.”

Zoe hugged her mother. “You’ve brought me up well, Ma. You and Dad. Just be glad.”

“Oh, I am. I am. Just worry about you, is all.”

“No need to,” Zoe said firmly. “I’m not going anywhere.”

The accident wasn’t anyone’s fault, or if it was no-one was going to admit it. A warped hull plate, a feed line that needed fixing but nobody knew, an explosion that ripped through part of the freighter … and suddenly Zoe was an orphan.

Boxer stared at the girl. “I’m sorry,” he said. “Truly. If I could bring them back …”

Zoe nodded, her face impassive. “Nothing will do that.”

“If you want to stay …” He paused. “You’re good with that gun, and I could use another hand, replace your Pa.”

“Ain’t gonna replace him,” Zoe said softly. “Ain’t staying on board.”

Boxer didn’t look sorry. “I can understand that. What’d you intend to do?”

“I thought about joining up. Put some of my skills to use.”

“The military?” Boxer shook his head. “Can’t see you doing that.”

“Then I’ll surprise people.”

“Well, if that’s what you’re intent on doing …” He reached into the drawer of his desk and withdrew a tin box. Opening it, he removed a handful of notes and passed them over. “It ain’t much, but it’s what your Pa would’ve earned this trip. And a bit more. Kinda … compensation.”

Zoe pushed the notes inside her waistcoat. “Thank you.”

“There’s a recruiting post on Boros,” he went on. “’Less you feel like staying until we hit the central planets.”

“No. Boros will be fine.” She turned to leave.

“I am sorry, you know,” Boxer said quickly. “Your parents were good people.”

“Yes.” Zoe didn’t look back.


The recruiting officer looked her up and down. “You sure about this?”

“I’m sixteen. My parents are dead. If you want me to get their written permission, you’ll have to go and find their scattered molecules somewhere off Whitefall. And somehow miraculously bring them back to life.”

The officer did not laugh. “You keep that kinda mouth on you and you’ll be storing up trouble, soldier.”

“Soldier?” Zoe echoed.

“Yes. And it’s sir. Remember that. Every time. Sir.”

“Yes sir.”

He filled in the last of the papers. “We’re having a few small problems out on the border moons, but that should just blow over. Nothing to be concerned about.” He looked up. “You’ll be training for eight weeks, then be posted. Could be anywhere. Maybe even one of the cruisers.”

“Yes sir.”

He handed over her orders. “Welcome to the Army of the Alliance, Private Alleyne.”


For the next four years she followed orders, going from planet to planet, moon to moon, putting down riots, insurrections, even managing to have a little fun, until the war proper started. And her first taste of it was on a godforsaken hunk of rock called Jasper.

“What the hell are we doing here, Zoe?” the young man next to her asked, scratching his head. “I didn’t join up to be fighting no Independents.”

“We’re doing what we’re told.” She looked down at him. “Taking orders.”

“And if they’re wrong?” His name was Fielding, and he was younger than her, and not just in age. “I been listening to the things they’ve been saying, those transmissions on the Cortex.”

“You know that’s against Regs.”

“Not sure I care any more.” He shook his head. “Says the Alliance have been bombing moons from here to the border. Zoe, these people they’re fighting – they just want to be left alone. Is that so wrong?”

She didn’t answer.

“I joined up for the squares and something to do other than wielding a pick down the mine. That’s all there is to do on my home planet – mining and related activities. I didn’t intend to end up with damp lung, or any of the other thousand and one ailments miners get. And I don’t intend ending up with lead poisoning either, not for the Alliance. Not when I think they’re wrong.”

“Fielding –”

“You look me in the eyes and tell me you don’t feel the same.”

She couldn’t. “Talk like that can get you court-martialled,” she said instead.

“So? I ain’t gonna be around long enough for ‘em to find out.” He pulled the helmet from his head. “I ain’t staying, Zoe. Even if I don’t join the Browncoats, I won’t fight ‘em.” He unbuckled his armour and dropped it at his feet. “You coming with me?”

“Fielding …”

The boy smiled sadly. “You won’t stay, Zoe. I know you. You’ve got too much of a moral sense. But I can’t wait. So maybe we’ll see each other again.”

“Maybe.” Zoe wanted to stop him, to tell him not to be so stupid, only she couldn’t. Mainly because she didn’t think he was wrong. Instead she watched him melt into the night, the light from the shells exploding overhead illuminating the landscape, but he was already gone.

Six months later and she was facing an Independent soldier, his rifle trained on her, hers on him. One of them was like to die, and she was damn sure that it wasn’t going to be her.

“Seems like we’re at something of an impasse,” the soldier said, his voice like warm toffee.

“Seems like.” Zoe didn’t move.

“You gonna shoot me?”

“Thinking on it.” She couldn’t see him too well in this light, but he looked as if he was smiling. “You gonna shoot me?”

“Just wondering about it.” There was a pause. “Guess one of us is gonna have to fire.”

“Guess so.”

“Better you don’t,” came another voice from the side. “Zoe’ll probably kill you.”

“Fielding?” the man said. “You know this purple-belly?”

The young man came out of the bushes. “Name’s Zoe. And despite what she’s wearing she ain’t no purplebelly.”

“That the case?” the soldier asked, his rifle not wavering. “You going under false colours?”

“Not sure I know what you mean.” Zoe didn’t even glance at Fielding. “Thought you’d be dead by now.”

“Not yet. Can’t help feeling if I stick to my man here, I might even live to see out the war.” He moved forward. “If you join us, so will you.”

“I’m a soldier.”

“Good,” the other man said unexpectedly. “Need good soldiers. And I don’t much care to wonder what side they started out on, long as they end up on the right one.” He stared at Zoe, then lowered his gun. “Putting my faith in you here,” he said, his voice light, trusting. “You shoot me, and I’ll be somewhat annoyed.”

Zoe watched, confounded by this man. But slowly, inch by inch, she lowered her own gun. “If you try anything I’ll gut you.”

“Fair enough.” The man straightened. “And if you try and kill me, I’ll do the same. Okay?”

“Okay.” Zoe now looked at Fielding. “Is he really worth it?”

Fielding nodded. “Sure is. And I reckon if you’re here, so far from the rest of your forces, that you’re pretty much of the same mind.”

Zoe stared, then nodded. “They’re wrong. The Alliance. What they’re doing.” She looked straight into the taller man’s eyes. “But I’m a soldier. A purple-belly, no matter what Fielding says.”

“Then take off the uniform, and you won’t be no more.” He moved closer, a slight smile on his face, and now she could see that he wore a crucifix at his throat.

“That an invitation?” she asked, her lips twitching.

“It is.”

After a long moment she nodded. “Name’s Zoe Alleyne,” she said. “Late of the Alliance Army.”

“I’m with the 57th. Known to those that hate us as the Balls and Bayonets Brigade.” He stepped forward, his hand out, and she saw his eyes were a bright blue. “Name’s Malcolm Reynolds.”

“I didn’t know,” Hank said softly, his arm around her naked waist, lying together in the warmth of their bunk.

“No reason you should,” Zoe replied, her hand on top of his. “Only two people on board know the story. Three now.”

“And you trust me enough?” He looked down into her eyes from where he was resting on his elbow.

She smiled slightly. “We sleep in the same bed. I know about you. I figured it was time you knew about me.”

“That why you didn’t like me at first? Because we had that in common?”

“No,” she said. “I didn’t like you because you’re a pain in the ass.”

“Apart from that.”

“Well, it might have contributed to it.”

Hank smiled. “Thanks.”

“What for?”

“Nothing. Just … thanks.” He lay back down, his face in her hair. “Would you have fired?” he asked eventually.


“Killed Mal.”


“And he knows this?”


“No wonder he likes you at his back. He knows where he stands.”

Zoe smiled. “Always.” She turned so she could look into his eyes. “And so do you.”

“I feel honoured,” he smiled.

“So you should.” She stroked his chest. “So you damn well should.” She ran her fingers across his lips. “You gonna kiss me?”

“Long as you promise not to shoot me.”

“As long as you do what you’re told.”

“Okay.” He grinned and leaned forward. “Wouldn’t want you to tempt you into violence.”



Thursday, February 1, 2007 11:28 PM


Oh, I think this fits here. And what a great and succinct explanation of how Zoe came to be.

I absolutely adore the idea that she and Mal met by facing down the barrels of their respective guns, that's just priceless!

Can't wait for more - it is Friday you know ... we get two stories, right?

Friday, February 2, 2007 12:11 AM


>Can't wait for more - it is Friday you know ... we get two stories, right?

Hey, is that a rule? That's a pretty cool rule.

It is a great take on Zoe - very well written, and believable.

Friday, February 2, 2007 12:31 AM


Brilliant writing. At first I was kind of shocked that you had Zoe fighting for the Alliance but the way she then meets Mal for the first time and they talk through the shoot or not to shoot scene was excellent, had a great big smile on my face. Loved it! Such a shiny story, and yes, I think we get two stories on a Friday (or should that be three?). Ali D :~)
You can't take the sky from me

Friday, February 2, 2007 7:03 AM


Great googily moogily that was some brilliant stuff, Jane0904! Fits in with Zoe's practical but moral sense of self and it upholds the concept of federal troops switching sides due to beliefs like what happened during the civil war:D

Also? I am glad she told Hank, though I gotta wonder if she told Wash. I am presuming she did, since Zoe says that Hank's the third person to know the truth and Mal's counted as the first. Which makes Wash second to know:)



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Monied Individual - Part VI
“This is one of those dreams, ain’t it? Where Jayne ends up riding an elephant and singing in Latin.” He looked at his crew again, all of whom were, at least metaphorically, drawing back from him. “Okay, so you don’t have those. Maybe I am going crazy after all.”

[Maya. Post-BDM. The Fosters are keeping a lot of things up their sleeves, and Mal is determined to find out what.]

Monied Individual - Part V
“Well, let’s see. Hank and Kaylee are off seeing if they can get that generator back to strength, and Zoe’s watching out for ‘em. I ain’t letting Simon or River in the same room as Badger if I can help it, and as much fun as it could be seeing Inara trying to buckle on a gunbelt around that pregnancy of hers, it ain’t gonna happen. That leaves Sam, and I ain’t even gonna try and warp his sensibilities by suggesting he wear one.”

[Maya. Post-BDM. Badger holds a tea party, Hank works for his living, and the results are in. Enjoy!]

Monied Individual - Part IV
“Pleased to meet you,” Hank said, having to stop himself from wiping his hand down his pants. The touch of the other man’s hand had been like old paper, dry and brittle. It reminded him of one of the vids he’d watched recently, about a mummified corpse coming back to life. Except that was ridiculous.

[Maya. Post-BDM. It's time to meet the enem- sorry, family.]

Monied Individual - Part III
“You two really need to get a room.” Simon’s voice drifted through from the rear of the cargo bay.
“We had one,” Mal growled. “And you shouldn’t be listening in to private conversations.”
“Why not?” the doctor asked, walking towards them. “It seems to be the major preoccupation of this crew. When we’re not actually doing crime, of course.”
[Maya. Post-BDM. The crew get their first sight of the Triskelion mansion, and Simon stirs the pot.]

Monied Individual - Part II
“I don’t know what you all have against me being rich. I’d share, you know that. But you seem determined to keep me poor!” He stormed out, the door crashing closed behind him.

[Maya. Post-BDM. The crew learn more about Hank's good fortune, and try to come to grips with the Triskelion family tree.]

“After we deliver the goods we can set Serenity down somewhere cold. See some real snow.”

Merry Christmas to everyone! Just another in my occasional series of Mal/Jayne conversations, this time with a season theme. Enjoy!

Monied Individual - Part I
Hank’s parents had died when he was young, and his grandmother had brought him up. Mal considered it was her fault he was the way he was, but that was unfair – Hank was who he was always destined to be. Or possibly he was meant to be someone else entirely.

[Maya. Post-BDM. A new story for your delectation and delight. Persephone, Badger and lawyers ... what could possibly go wrong?]

Secrets - Part XXVIII - Conclusion
River shook herself, turning from the rabbit hole. She didn’t feel like being Alice, and while Jayne’s grin sometimes made her think of the Cheshire Cat, the dormouse was asleep and likely to remain so. Of much more interest were the secrets. So many, some old, some new, some borrowed and some blue. And for once she didn’t care if she was referencing the Earth-that-was marriage ceremony. That wasn’t the point. Inara, the Bodens, Harper Lecomb and the Culver diamond, Randall Lecomb and his homicidal tendencies … all secrets, overlaid with the flavour of the Alliance and their need to control.
[Maya. Post-BDM. Secrets comes to a conclusion, but some are still waiting to see the light of day.]

Secrets- Part XXVII
“I don’t always trust him when he’s operating on Jayne. A slip of the scalpel, too many drugs, too little oxygen, and I would be a free woman. My worries. Not his thoughts. But he is my brother. For better or worse. For richer or poorer. In sickness and in health. And we have experienced them all.”
[Maya. Post-BDM. Home stretch now on Secrets, with the crisis passed for now and decisions made. Thanks so much for those of you who have stuck with this!]

Secrets - Part XXVI
"Have you never done that? In all those times you were treating someone in the hospital, when you were the great Doctor Tam, didn’t you once tell less than the truth to someone if it made them feel less desperate?”
[Maya. Post-BDM. Inara's fate, and what follows. My apologies for the wait!]