(All Firefly characters are the property of Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy and all original characters are mine.)

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--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Part 2

There inscribed on a gravestone in large bold letters, was Zoe's name with ‘She fought Hard RIP’ and the date she had died. Mal immediately knew that she had died 3 months before the battle of Serenity. He even remembered the night, they had been on the move and under fire all the way. There had been a spot, on the surface looked like a good place to set up camp, quiet, secluded, plenty of cover but Mal had protested. Didn't think they should stay there. He could have been demoted for that but his superiors had listened to him and agreed.

Obviously no-one had made a fuss this time.

“What happened?” Mal took a deep breath as if steeling himself inside.

“Dear Zoe, she thought that the end was in sight, the browncoats could win with victory a flight, but they didn't know that a trap lay in wait, in a place you'd avoided with anger and hate. They set up their camp their hearts filled with light, a feeling of peace was with them that night. An ambush was set, they all died together, their bodies lay rotting in beautiful weather”.

“All of them?” Mal said raising an eyebrow.

He looked back at Zoe and then at the headstones around them. All the men and women he had served with were present there and every single date was the same.

“They all died that night? Not one of them survived? Can you show me what happened to them?” Mal asked.

“Don't know the future, can't show the past, can only see the present and the present never lasts” The girl shook her head and as she did so aged about 5 years and Mal found himself looking into the face of a young woman.

This startled Mal a little but he tried to ignore the strange happening and instead said “I only get what's happenin' now?”

He kneeled down to Zoe and smiled sadly, tears shining in his eyes (although if anyone had called him on it, he would deny everything).

“Zoe, I'm sorry,” he said, laying a hand on the grave and bowing his head.

After a moment he took a deep breath, straightened up and cleared his throat.

“I take everything back, I said. They need me and the sooner.....” he started to say.

The woman cut him off with “Won't go back yet, you need to see, the rest of the group, your family. This may get better or maybe worse, but see it through then break the curse”. Her hand stuck out and Mal knew enough this time to not fight what was bound to happen, so he just took hold of the hand tightly.

In an instant they were stood on the bridge of a very large ship looking out into deep space.

There were an awful lot of men and women rushing about, all dressed in identical grey uniforms.

'This is an Alliance ship, isn't it? Who on my ship would be would be working for these bastards?' Mal asked a little spooked by the large grey mass.

A voice came from behind them. “You off shift now Wash?”

“Sure am, Boss!” answered a very familiar voice. Mal spun around and sure enough there was a somewhat leaner Wash, complete with the ugly 'tash Zoe had made him shave off, stood to one side of the Captain's chair.

“Emmerson!” the Captain barked.

“Sir?” a rather large, burly recruit stood to attention.

“Escort Wash to the Mess Hall!” the captain ordered.

“Yes Sir!” Emmerson replied.

Emmerson and Wash both turned and left the bridge, Mal and the woman following in their wake.

“Wash is working for the Alliance now? I knew I never liked that guy! Traitorous scum!” Mal was bitter about this.

“It was a choice he had to make, got caught with stolen stores, either this or a prison cell, at least here they got smores! But it's not good, it's just as bad, he hates this life, it makes him sad”.

By this time, Wash and Emmerson had reached the Mess Hall. Wash stopped by the door and Emmerson turned to go back to the bridge.

Wash called after him “Hey, thanks Emmerson!”

Emmerson didn't stop or turn round just called back “Just following orders! Take care now” in a tone of voice that suggested he hoped Wash gave someone a reason to start a fight so that he could watch Wash get beaten to a pulp.

Wash sighed and wandered into the Mess Hall. The noise inside gradually died down as people noticed him there and turned to stare at him.

Mal could hear whispers of “Captain's Pet” and “Independence Scum” coming from all corners of the room and Mal felt as if he could willingly go over there and bash some sense into those people.

Wash shook his head, his shoulders slumped and he turned and left the room.

Mal and the woman followed Wash as he trudged along a corridor and finally into the crew quarters where he sank down onto his bunk. He laid back, closed his eyes and looked to the entire world as if he had fallen asleep. But Mal could hear him muttering under his breath as he prayed.

“Why are we still here? I've seen Wash's pain, enough to know he would have been better off on Serenity so lets get on with this”. Mal said briskly, hiding any pain he felt over Wash and his predicament.

“Wait just a while, turns day into night, more pain still to come, won't put up a fight. Lost the will to live, can't say I blame him, if it goes on much longer he may lose a limb” the woman told him.

“What does that mean?” Mal couldn't figure it out.

The hatch slammed open above them and three pairs of heavy boots came down the ladder attached to three threatening men.

“Lao tien ye!” wimpered Wash sliding off his bunk and bundling himself into a corner.

“Now Wash, you know he doesn't listen to independence scum like you!” one of the guys, a thin sneering man said.

“Please!” Wash curled up even tighter.

“Nothing you say will stop me giving you exactly what you deserve, traitorous bastard” the same guy growled. He gave a nod and then all three of them started in on Wash, kicking and punching him and spitting in his face.

Mal desperately wanted to kick these guys asses and was deeply frustrated because he couldn't do a thing, all he could do was watch and hope that Wash would survive, although he wasn't sure whether that a particularly good thing or not.

He didn't see the woman rapidly ageing again next to him or feel her hand take his and so the next thing he knew, they were standing in a village square in the middle of a large crowd of people.

Mal opened his mouth to speak but before he could say a word, a loud voice boomed over the crowd.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, we are gathered here today to pass judgement on this most vicious of criminals, charged with the murder of my most beloved wife! The man has himself admitted his guilt and all that is left to do now is execute the sentence!”

Mal moved through the crowd to find out whom the voice belonged to.

At the front, on a low stage, stood a very fat man with long greying hair and beady eyes. He was wearing long, midnight blue robes and there was a table with three very officious looking people, taking notes, set just to one side of him.

“Jayne Cobb, are you ready to die? Any last words?”

Mal's head whipped across to look at the other site of the stage. There was Jayne, trussed up like a turkey and tied to a pole, ready to be burnt alive. He was furious and was struggling and swearing like a real trooper.

“Yeah!” he spat. “I got me some last words. You can rutting well go to hell you gos se wangba dan! I didn't do it!”

Mal tried not to laugh as he watched all the goings on. He knew there were few situations that Jayne couldn't get himself out of but just seeing him like this lifted Mal's spirits.

The crowd was pretty much baying for blood and Jayne was sweating profusely but he had managed to loosen his ropes just enough for him to slip free.

Mal watched Jayne take a breath and then make a run for it. He didn't get far before he had to start fighting his way out. And fight he did.

“So did Jayne do what they say? You should know” Mal asked, almost conversationally.

“Jayne isn’t guilty, not of this crime, but it’s too late he’s out of time, he was set up, he hadn’t seen, a trap by magistrate and beauty queen. It’s kind of sad I have to say, his life should have to end this way, a bullet to his gut was lended and now his days have finally ended” the woman spoke softly.

Mal looked back at Jayne. He was still fighting the village folk and enjoying it too.

“You'll never take me alive, yuchun ching-wah tsao de liou mahng!” he bellowed as he took on two more men.

Unfortunately, Mal could see something that Jayne couldn't. A man behind Jayne was pulling a gun from a holster.

“Jayne!” shouted Mal, forgetting that Jayne couldn't hear him. “Look out!”

Jayne whipped round to tackle another guy coming from behind him, flipped him over his shoulder and stood for the briefest moment, hands raised in victory.

Mal saw it coming and Jayne did too but not until a split second before the bullet ripped into his stomach and did an awful lot of damage.

Jayne looked down at the hole in his middle, “Oh Crap!” he said, staggered a step and sat down hard with a thud.

Mal could see from Jayne's eyes that he was having difficulty focusing and that the pain was so intense Jayne was fast going into shock.

It was probably a good thing that Jayne couldn't focus, Mal thought, as it meant he never saw the gun point blank at his head or the second bullet, the one that killed him.

Mal stared at Jayne's lifeless body, lying on the hard dirt, glassy eyes open and unseeing, blood trickling from his gapping mouth and clotting in the midday sun around his open wounds.

Although the sight slightly sickened Mal, as it had always done, he did not let it show out of respect to a fallen comrade.

“Can we move on now, please?” asked Mal, a little sharper than he had intended. He knew his wasn't her fault, he was the one who had condemned his friends, no...his family.

This time the woman only changed very slightly, her face becoming a little fuller and her hair longer. She held out her hand to him, almost hesitantly. Mal grabbed at it like a drowning man grasping at floating debris.

They arrived on another ship. This one seemed smaller, almost like Serenity, but as they were stood at the bottom of a flight of steps at the end of a corridor, Mal couldn't be sure.

From the heart of the ship Mal heard faint screams. He tensed up, waiting to see what was going to happen. The screaming got louder and closer until a figure appeared at the end of the corridor. A female figure.

She seemed to be running rather erratically and kept looking over her shoulder as if searching for something or someone.

Another figure, this one a man the same height and build as Mal but with a shock of blonde white hair, came through after her and ran straight at her with purpose.

To be cont….