Dear Mal
Monday, February 4, 2008

This has been on my hard drive since Christmas but real life and my Mom's broken hip kept me from finishing it. Thanks to MissWhatitis for the beta and a bit of inspiration when I thought I should trash this.


Dear Mal,

I received your letter the other day. You don't know how good it is to finally hear from you after such a long time. Not a minute goes by that I don't think of you and pray for your safety.

. I know that you wanted to be home by now but I'm sure that you'll be home by spring. Thank goodness you've only been in a skirmish so far. If things go well I hope that you'll be home in time to weed the garden this spring.

Chi Linn and Sophia are very anxious to hear from Maisie. They haven't heard from her since she decided to join the 1st Sharpshooter Company. I too, wish that she hadn't done it and stayed in the 57th Overlanders with you. She's as headstrong as you are and likely to do something rash. If you hear from her or see her please get word back to her parents. All of us are sick with worry.

We celebrated Christmas quietly. There was a makeshift service Christmas Eve at the church as Shepherd Ambrose joined the cause about two months after you left.. I did manage to put up a tree cut from the grove where your Pa rests. Chi Linn cut it and Sophia and I decorated it as best we could, but something seemed lacking without you and Maisie here. Even the apple pies I baked just didn't taste the same without either of you here to eat them.

The ranch is surviving, but honestly, it's just getting by. I sold three quarters of the herd several months ago but I kept what Chi Linn and I considered the best. No one has any feed to spare and with feed prices so high and no one to speak of to work them, I'm putting them out to pasture.

They'll do good there. We've been lucky in that it's been a wet winter so far and the grass will be lush and green in a few months and the ponds are full so I expect that the grass will last well into summer.

The last of the hands joined the Cause a few weeks ago. Those left around here are either too old to fight or are too shiftless to trust. Occasionally someone in need of food will come and help out for a day or so in exchange for food and shelter, but out here they don't last too long before they move on.

Don't worry, we have plenty to eat. The garden is producing lots of vegetables and we have almost become vegetarians like the most observant of Buddhists except for the eggs. The chickens have been producing lots of eggs.

We even have enough to use for trade and you wouldn't believe some of the things we have traded eggs for. We've gotten all the odds and ends needed to run a ranch with eggs but the most unusual was thing was antibiotics for an infection caused by a nail that slipped and punctured Chi Linn's hand. Seems the Doc has a liking for eggs too.

I would dearly love a crispy fried chicken like we had most Sundays after church but their lives are saved because they are more valuable for their eggs than satisfying my liking for fried chicken.

Janey's colt has grown by leaps and bounds. He's tall and leggy and his black and white coloring is as loud as his grandmother Lucy. He'll be ready to start training in about six months and I'm sure he'll be at least as good as Lucy was with the cows. He'll be a good one and a good stud for breeding cow ponies. I've kept a couple of mares and several of the other ranchers around here are already looking at him to reestablish their horse herds once this unpleasantness is over..

As a late Christmas present the Alliance finally cut the Cortex link off planet. News and letters are passed by ships that are able to run the blockade and land at New Jamestown or nearby ranches if landing at the port would be too dangerous.

Word travels fast when a ship comes in. I have been appointed unofficial post master for this area so any letter you or Maisie write will be in my hands within a day or two of arriving on planet.

Becky came by on Christmas afternoon to see if I had any new news of you. She's still determined to wed you once you get back. I've tried to tell her that you may have changed somewhat but she won't listen to any of it.

She has everything planned down to the number of children you'll both have and how many will be boys and how many will be girls. It doesn't matter to her that God decides those things, among others, but there's no telling her.

I've been working on a family history for you, writing down all the Tully family stories my Pa told me over the years. It keeps me occupied during the long winter evenings. It'll be nice to have them written down for your children to read one day.

There are some mighty entertaining stories that I've haven't had a chance to tell you. Some of the stories even go back to Earth-That-Was. And there were some colorful characters in our family. One story involves some sort of cross country race. I'm fuzzy on the details as Pa didn't mention it much but it sounded exciting.

I'm just sorry I can't do the same for your Pa's side of the family. I don't think many stories were passed down in his family, if they were, they were forgotten when he left Londinium. And of course they more than likely wouldn't share them if I asked.

I do have a bit of business I need to tell you about. I've converted all the money I can into platinum, like most of the folks around here. I put it in the place that we agreed on before you left. It'll help us get the ranch going again once this war is over.

Of course I can't access the money in the ranch accounts in the Osiris Planetary Bank. As you know, those accounts were frozen at the beginning of the war and I'm not sure if we're ever going to see it again, but don't forget about them. We may be able to get to them after we win the war.

Keep your self safe. I'm praying that you come home victorious, and soon. I cling to every scrap of news so write soon.




Monday, February 4, 2008 10:52 PM


I like this a lot. It's a mother writing to a son and telling him all the little pieces of news so she doesn't have to tell him how much she really misses him. And I can't help feeling it's the ranch accounts that buy Serenity after the war ...

Tuesday, February 5, 2008 12:37 AM


I'm wondering how much time passes between this letter being written by Mal's ma and him receiving it. With the way the Firefly 'verse goes I wouldn't be surprised if Mal doesn't get the letter after discovering the devastion done to Shadow by the gorram Alliance. I'm hoping you'll write a follow up fic with Mal's reaction when he gets to read this. Ali D :~)
You can't take the sky from me

Tuesday, February 5, 2008 3:11 AM


Glad you decided to post this - really nice glimpse into the other side of war. If Mal's money for Serenity came from his mom, no wonder the ship is so obsessively his home.

Tuesday, February 5, 2008 7:47 AM


Now where did you guys get the idea that Mal used ranch money to buy Serenity? LOL!

That's what I've thought all along. Otherwise it would have taken him years to save the money or he would have had to pull off one heck of a job without his own ship.

Also,I just finished the last 2 episodes of Drive. No one has caught my little homage yet. See if you can find it.

Tuesday, February 5, 2008 9:29 AM


The Tully mention was cool. I liked Drive. Shame it was on F*X.
Nice story.

Tuesday, February 5, 2008 5:49 PM


Aww, that's a sweet letter from Ma Reynolds! I didn't catch the Drive reference at first, but I see it now. Please write more when things setting down in your life. These letters between Mal and Meg are great!

Friday, February 8, 2008 10:56 AM


My pleasure,as always.

Wednesday, February 13, 2008 1:53 PM


SOrry for the late comment, but I've been absent for a bit. Lovely work, as always. And I enjoyed the Drive references. Wish we could have all seen a little more of that one too. Seems that the good ones always get cancelled! :D


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Dear Mal
This has been on my hard drive since Christmas but real life and my Mom's broken hip kept me from finishing it.

Thanks to MissWhatitis for the beta and a bit of inspiration when I thought I should trash this.