. . . Mal lies still in his bunk, brow smooth, mouth relaxed and open.

~ Mal pauses Blaze on the gentle hill above the house with a “whoa” and a pat to the neck, barely needing to pull on the reigns. Turning her, he looks over the ranch’s western field, hay a golden orange under a setting sun that shoots a swath of red across the sky.

“Sure is pretty,” he tells the pony, looking up. “Teacher says it’s something special in the atmosphere what does it.”

After long moments, Blaze snorts and shakes her head, pawing at the earth in front of her.

“‘Kay, girl, ‘kay. We’ll go an’ get you those oats in just a bit. You know I never miss eyeing this if I can help it.” Mal pats her neck again, rubbing along the warm flesh till she nickers.

Leaning forward slightly, he watches the sky turn to the ever deeper shades of scarlet and crimson. “Just one thing teacher never ‘splained so well, mayhap ‘cause I only got three years of learning so far. How come it’s called Shadow when it burns with the prettiest fire of all creation?” ~

Legs twitching slightly, Mal lets out a huff of breath before his lips close into a tight line.

~ “Malcolm Reynolds, you get yourself over here now!” His ma yells.

Head hanging, shoulders hunched, he moves towards her slowly, looking smaller than his fifteen years.

“What in tarnation’s got into you, boy?” Eyes narrowed, she points at him. “‘Splain yourself.”

“Me and Timmy, we was smoking …”

“In old Mr. Robert’s corncrib.”

He nods before continuing. “Then, well … then, we went to meet Rufus down the crick, so’s he could show us his new gun …”

“You just went off to have your fun and never did make sure that there tobacco was put out when you left, did you, boy?” The edges of her mouth draw down as her lips purse in a grimace.

His head shake is small and slow, his fingers twist around each other behind his back.

“I mean to tell you, I ain’t never seen the like – never!” she says, throwing her hands in the air. “Why, to think that a child of mine would be so careless as all that. Do you know what you done, boy? You done burnt all of Mr. Robert’s winter feeding corn. What’s he gonna give those cattle of his now, hmmm?” ~

A hand spasms on the pillow, and his brow furrows as feet begin to flex, one, two, one, two, one, two …

~ He’s sitting in the mess hall shoveling stew into his mouth in between telling his troops bits of his story. “Well, now, Shadow … Shadow may not be the most be-all and end-all exciting place in the verse, but it did have one thing to recommend it, and that was Scarlet. Oh, I gotta tell you about Scarlet. She was built big, Scarlet was – big and beautiful. Weren’t a lad around didn’t take a shine to Scarlet, and I dare say a couple of the lasses too. Anyways, Scarlet’d got a new mare, see, and –”

“Sir.” Zoe’s voice came from behind him, sounding more serious even than usual.

“Zoe!” He turns towards her and keeps on talking. “I was just telling about Scarlet and her new …” His voice fades out once he sees her expression.

Her mouth appears pinched into submission, lips thin, eyes glassy with unshed tears.

“Zoe?” he breathes out as silence falls around him.

“Sir, you’re needed in the Comms Tent.”

Before he can ask her anything more, she does an abrupt about face and double-times it out into the hot evening air of the desert-like planet they’ve been stationed on for a good two months.

The Alliance Military news wave waits queued for him on the main board. The red-headed announcer moves perfectly painted ruby lips in an even tempo, yet for Mal it still seems too fast, too much. “In an unprecedented attempt to subdue dangerous rebel forces, the Heads of all military wings banded together today in a joint effort to take out one of the most nefarious hotbeds of discontent. Utilizing an exciting new weapon designed to burn the atmosphere from a planet, the military gave the rebels no …”

He sinks to his knees, ears filled with a rushing hum, and all he can do is watch the screen before him as a familiar green and blue planet sparks to flame. Yellows, oranges, and every shade of red fill his vision – a bloodbath of terrible beauty that flickers on his face, marking him with fire. ~

Jerking awake, Mal heaves in a few labored breaths before quickly climbing from his room to move to the cockpit where he stands staring out at the cold black and white of space. . . .