Meg Reynolds sighed as she the shut down the Cortex link. She had a good head for business but sometimes outside events just over whelmed her. The political fire storm between the Core and Rim planets had exploded in the past few months and the taxes and over head for shipping the ranch beef to Ariel had tripled.

Still she felt the account was safe. Despite the troubles brewing and the rumors that the Alliance was going to freeze the Rim accounts the money would be safe what ever happened. If something happened and war came, her son Mal, who had just turned 18, was on the account and could manage things if something happened to her.

Zoe strode into the alley filled with garbage. The smell of garbage mixed with stale alcohol and vomit hit her nose and she had to steel herself not to gag. She scanned the alley and saw a brown lump sprawled on top of a mound of garbage. She walked over and turned the brown mound over.

A semi conscious man turned over on the stinking mess and looked at her.

“Monty leaves in an hour. That is unless you want to make this alley your home.”

Mal raised his head and looked at her with bleary eyes. “You say something 'bout this being my home? No it ain't, ain't got no home. Year outta the “Lliance camp and I still ain't got a gorram home. We're just hired guns on a transport ship.”

He let a second or pass. “Least this time you didn't have to waste your money and bail me outta a jail cell”

“No I didn't and that's a blessing, this time.” Zoe hauled Mal up and he staggered to his feet and tried to brush off his coat.

“Picked up something for you at the post office. From the looks of the envelope it chased you around the Rim for a while.”

She held out a battered envelope and Mal took it with an unsteady hand and ripped it open, and looked at the piece of paper with a lot of words and official looking stamps on it.

Mal shook his head in disbelief. “I don't believe it. After all these years those hundans have really done it.”

“What's going on.”

“Freedom ”