I tried to make the memories italic to seperate them from reality but my computer started acting up and wouldn't let me so the *** indicates the start and finish of a memory. > > > > > > Silvermoon was exactly what its name gave the impression of it to be. It was one of the newer moons, formed from its late sister Iona. Iona was an uninhabitable moon, made up of different minerals and substances that segmented into layers. The top layer consisted of undernourished soil and dirt that caused cracks and breaks to form on the surface of the ground. The middle layer consisted of a thicker darker soil and broken pieces of large stone that formed masses throughout the moon. The core was made up of iron and a finer blend of platinum. The atmosphere was unbearable and housed no living things. It consisted of itaconic acid, iodic acid, C2, and several radioactive materials. History writes that gravity finally took its toll on the moon and shattered it into pieces, though some believed the hellacious heat of a neighboring sun melted it from inside out. In any case decades later Silvermoon formed from Iona’s debris, which consisted mostly of her core materials, iron and platinum, but not a harmful amount just enough to give Silvermoon its unique silver hue. Unlike Iona, Silvermoon was inhabitable, but few people lived there. It was a desert, home mostly to criminals, fugitives, and anyone looking to avoid the long arm of the law. It made the perfect place for the coming and going of illegal activities; Alliance seldom step foot on the crater. There was local authority although they where as crooked as they come; committed most of the crime themselves. Slivermoon lay in a far off quadrant of the ‘verse, Serenity’s next destination.

It took three and a half days to reach Slivermoon, it was a little after breakfast when Serenity’s ramp hit solid ground. The crew stood stock-still on the ramp, eyeing with dropped jaws, the marvel that lay before them. Not a one of them had ever stepped foot on this legendary rock, but all had heard tale of the moon that sparkled bright with a hue of radiant sliver. Legend says that both God and Buddha got together when the old world was on the verge of ending, the new one soon to follow in its wake, and cried great tears of sadness because corruption, greed, and all things unholy where taking a firm colossal grip on the ‘verse. It was said to be believed that the tears they shed washed away everything unholy in the old world, and became the solid foundation of the new world. The legend also states that one of God’s tears and one of Buddha’s tears formed into one great tear that never dispersed and became what we now know as Silvermoon.

Mal stood with his hands shielding his eyes from the overbearing metallic glare the moon was sending in his direction. Could be worse he thought to himself not really being able to establish what worse might look like; it was a barren silver wasteland for pity’s sake. Just when Mal was thinking about flying full speed off this gleaming rock Zoe placed a hand on his shoulder, the thought escaping him momentarily.

“Should get going, sir. The sooner we get there, the sooner we can get back.” She stated, already understanding the thoughts racing around in his head.

“Yeah, lets head out. Where’s Jay…” Mal stopped mid-sentence, seeing the big man riding down the ramp on the mule.

Mal and Zoe hopped on the back of the mule and before Jayne sped away from the others Mal managed these parting words. “River stay out of trouble and Wash keep the engines runnin’”

The ride to the warehouse was long due to the fact of its location on the opposite side of the moon. The path they took was anhydrous, stretching far out of eyes reach, the scenery the whole way looking the same as it did during the first five minutes of travel and the five minutes after that and the five after that. The ground was spotted with mammoth-sized hills and gutted with capacious dirt encrusted rock-flaked impressions. The people they saw where few and far between.

Like a distant mirage the warehouse began to come into view. The journey of what had seemed a lifetime had finally ended. Jayne steadied the mule before parking it a few feet away from the warehouse entrance. The threesome off-loaded all keen to their surroundings; hands moments away from their weapons should occasion arise. When they entered the dusty aged warehouse they found Sampson behind a desk; the image of a dusty aged man. Sampson sat motionless behind his bulky begrimed desk; a human statue froze in the simplest of times. He wore a faint smile on his face, his eyes unblinkingly looking off into a time and place only he knew of. He wore a face full of wrinkles and distant wisdom. He had bags under his bags and all his skin hung loose from him as if gravity was pulling it down and away. The decrepit man was soon waken from his tranquility when Mal slammed his hand on top of the desk a little harder than he intended. Sampson alert now jumped up almost out of his seat startled by the alarming noise. Sampson refocused his eyes towards the group finding it hard to believe that there where actual people standing in front of him, and strangers at that, business wasn’t exactly booming and he knew every gorram person on this rock.

“Sampson, right?” Mal asked, squinting to read his faded nametag.

“Yah, who’s askin’”

“Hi, Captain Malcolm Reynolds.” Mal said extending his arm for a handshake, but getting no offering hand in return. Sampson eyed Mal’s hand, examining it like it was the filthiest thing in the ‘verse. The gesture of courtesy was lost on the old man, too long had it been since he’d interacted with another person, the act of ‘we come in peace’ had been out of his body’s circulation for too long and it was now foreign to him.

“If you want Mal I’ll shoot ‘em right now. Maybe shoot off both his hands, then he won’t have to worry ‘bout shaken’ hands with no one else…people just ain’t polite anymore. A man offers you his hand and you practically spit…”

“Enough, Jayne.” Zoe said.

“I’m just sayin’ it makes no sense. Who exactly is your mama? Tell me, so I can call her up and s’plain to her how she done raised you wrong.” Jayne barked his eye transfixed on Sampson.

“Now no need for that young ‘un, I was just startled and a little taken back. Now what can I do for you fine people?”

“We’re here to pick up some cargo.” Zoe offered.

“Ident-number…please.” Sampson added staring at Jayne with Vera at his fingertips.

“Its I believe…huh…I know I put it somewhere.” Mal stammered, frantically searching his pockets for the scraps on which he had written it.

“774768.” Zoe said knowingly. Mal looked over at her not at all surprised. “What, I tend to prepare in advance for all situations. Especially since I know the ident-number could be stamped on your forehead and you’d still probably lose it.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment, always wanted to be the first at something, I’d just be the first person to have successfully lost their own forehead. They’d put be down in history for that, probably even give me a shiny medal.” Mal chuckled, then added. “Remind me to thank you later for remembering that important bit of information. Maybe I’ll promote you, how does…first mate sound.”

“I am already first mate, sir.”

“Right, then no promotion, hows ‘bout a tall glass of shiny whiskey and undying friendship sound.” Mal said his voice full of humor but with a ring of truth.

Before Zoe could respond Jayne interrupted their playful banter. “We still have a job to do. All that yammering won’t put money in our pockets, so stop it.” They all turned their attention back to Sampson.

“Cargo’s ready just pull your transportation round back.” Jayne turned to leave and moments later he was backing the mule up towards the open doorway of the warehouse.

It wasn’t exactly the cargo they had expected, there was one wooden crate pierced with tiny holes and covered in bright red ink by the word ‘fragile’. “This is it.” Mal uttered.

“Yes.” Came Sampson’s unenthusiastic reply.

“Are you sure?” Mal questioned.

“Yeah.” Sampson croaked.

Although the cargo was not what they had expected, they expected heavy lifting and backbreaking work; it did take both Mal and Jayne to load the crate onto the mule. Zoe stayed behind talking with Sampson; more like probing him. “So when did this fine crate come into your possession?”

“’Bout two and a half days ago.”

“Who, if you mind my askin’ delivered it?”

“It was a man, one I ain’t never seen before.”

“Can you describe him?”

“He looked like a man. I suppose you could say an ordinary type of guy. Nothing to fancy ‘bout him.”

“That’s it, that’s all you can remember.”

“I’m an old man sweetie, my memory’s not what it used to be.”

Mal strolled over towards them, the crate had been safely loaded, the job was done time to go home now. “Well, its best we be headin’ out now. Thanks.” Mal said, again offering his hand to the man, this time Sampson took it and shook it with great enthusiasm. Mal suspected it was the intimidation of Jayne and Vera looming not to far away. With the first step out of the way it was easy sailing just needed the right wind to blow them in the direction of financial gain. Guess sailing wasn’t what it used to be, calm waters start swirling and slurping until massive waves form crashing down and wiping everything in its path out. A quarter of the way back to Serenity is when luck, destiny, divine intervention, or something of that nature took its course in FATE’S well laid out plans.

The mule screeched to a halt as two Armored Alliance trucks surrounded it. Each truck was well equipped with enough weaponry to blow half the moon to bits. Both trucks held Alliance officers equipped with guns and grenades so powerful and up to date that they made Mal, Zoe, and Jayne’s weapons look like children’s toys. A strong cold voice boomed in the dead environment. “Drop your weapons, put your hands up and step out of the vehicle.” In unison Mal, Zoe, and Jayne raised their hands in surrender. A tall buff tan looking man stepped out of the closest truck and strolled over to them, his chin held high and his shoulders straight, he seemed to be trying hard to look the part of a strong Alliance officer.

“I am pretty sure I was clear when I said step out of the vehicle.”

“What seems to be the problem officer?” Mal asked, trying his best to sound as polite as he could; a hard task to accomplish when every man standing around them had the look of a stone cold killer.

“That’s classified information.” The officer stated.

“If I’m being stopped, and in a not too polite way, I think…um…better yet I know its your duty as a fine up standing officer of the law to inform me of why I’m being stopped.”

“Not that it would make much difference but the daughter of a very important man has been kidnapped. A man who happens to be my employer so I am taking no chances. She was believed to be taken by a group of rouged criminals, we’re stopping and searching all people who fit that description.”

“Hear that guys we’re no longer petty crooks, we’re ‘rouged criminal’. We’re movin’ up in the world after all. It does have a nice ring to it dontcha think.”

“Yes, nothin’ but silver bells, sir.” Zoe said smirking.

“Look we got us a bunch of clowns, I do enjoy humor so hows about another joke.” The Alliance officer said a devious looking grin on his face. Mal began to reply but stopped with the sound of guns being cocked back and pointed in their direction. “No more jokes I see, well good, now lets have a look in the crate.”

Two of his men stepped forward struggling at first to open the crate but after a few more attempts they managed to open it. The front side of the crate was pulled out of its place with a great groan as it separated from the rest of the wood. When the panel of wood hit the ground a girl was revealed in what used to be the crate. She tumbled out of her cramped solitary confinement hitting the ground with a loud thud that caused a fine pillow of silver dust to blanket her like a mothers comforting hug. The Alliance officer immediately rushed to the girls side, this had to be the girl they where looking for. A second set of pistols where cocked back and pointed in their direction; this was definitely the girl they where looking for. Despite the situation it gave Mal great comfort to see the girl was still breathing although she wasn’t moving.

“Talk about your de ja vu, now where have we seen this before.” Mal said scratching his head and pretending to strain to think of the similar situation they had been in before. “Girl hidden in crate, Alliance wanting girl inside crate, us oblivious to the fact there’s a girl in the crate, did I forget anything?"

“You forgot the girl being crazy part which if this girl is I suggest we don’t bother rescuing her with any of your heroic stupidity.” Jayne spat.

“Jayne maybe she’s not crazy and I pretty sure the cap’n ain’t thinkn’ of any stupid heroics. This ain’t a rescue mission, the people lookin’ for her have found her.”

“How do we know she’s in good hands? What if they mean to do her harm we just can’t leave her and besides if we return empty handed there will be a bullet waiting for each of us.” Mal reminded them.

“What are you suggestin’ sir?”

“I say we rescue the girl from these creeps and then get her side of the story.”

“What ‘bout the man exacting death on us if’n we mess this up even a lil’, I ain’t ready to die, not for no ruttin’ girl, we been down this path already.” Jayne uttered.

“Lets just see what happens first before we do anything. Maybe she’ll go willingly.” Zoe suggested.

Silvermoon’s two neighboring suns where beginning to set an inky darkness was already creeping across the planet. Back on Serenity the rest of the gang sat around the table eating a very late lunch, they where not openly concerned about the late arrival of Mal, Zoe, and Jayne, they where only thirty minutes behind schedule, but it was beginning to tug at the back of their minds.

The girl lay motionless on the ground, her face buried in the dirt. Conciseness came and went, taking her to a dark prison within her own head, forcing her to visit places and memories she tried hard to forget. She was lost in memories so old she didn’t believe them to be her own. The ones she buried deep several years ago for fear they would break her.

***I can see my father standing in front of me a fake smile plastered on his face. It’s a facade for my mother, he fakes smiles for her so she doesn’t worry and wont figure out the fact that he secretly hates me. My father always wanted a boy what he got instead was me a fact that made him dislike me from birth. When I got brave enough I would chance it and ask him if he could do it all over again would he still want a boy. Of course he would look me in the eyes and tell me not in a million years. I was younger then and it was his job as my father to lie to me. When I got older and wiser, I unlike my mother could see past all my father’s facades and the masks he wore. As the years passed and despite my outer appearance my father still urned for a son, someone to mold into a fighter a person to protect the family in his absence, since my mother unfortunately could no longer bare anymore children I was the next best thing. My father taught me everything there was to know about fighting, pushed me so hard I sometimes think he forgot I was his daughter and not a soldier. When I did something wrong he reminded me with brute force almost taunting me at times about the fact that I was a weak, fragile, little girl. He took my innocence from me and replaced it instead with a hard physic and an even harder interior. My father got his soldier; I became a killer by the age of 12.***

The doors to the prison in her head opened with a squeak, the darkness was reseeding, it was back to the real world. The Alliance officer kneeled down beside the girl placing his fingers on her neck to check her pulse.

Cold fingers lay pressed against my neck; they are the only reminder that I am still alive. I’m trying so hard to open my eyes but its like they’ve been sown shut. I manage to part my eyelids open enough to form a slit that lets a faint gray light settle into my vision. The cold comforting feeling of the fingers on my neck begin to slip away. Its found me everything is fading fast to black as the darkness envelopes me.

***It was a sawed-off shotgun my father placed in my hands, the metal cool against my sweaty palms. My father had a distant almost crazed look in his eyes as he began to speak ‘Nows the time for you to grow up, make me proud.’ My hands tremble with fear it takes a few moments before I can steady them. My heart is torn between a decision, let my father down more than I already had, by my existence alone or end this mans life to satisfy him. My father was a good man simply blinded by his ambition to rid the ‘verse of crime, where as this scum was a murderous bottom feeder. My head was racing as I placed the gun to the mans head, my finger ready on the trigger.***

My haunting visions begin to fade away; reality is rushing in around me, the light bringing me some peace. I manage to open my eyes fully but I leave my head on the ground. There are so many people around me my mind is still muggy; I can’t clearly make out the faces. Someone’s lifting my head up, they’re saying something to me but it sounds so distant. After a moment my head clears and I can make out what it is they’re asking me. “Are you okay?” I badly want to answer the question but I can’t move my mouth to form words I mumble an inaudible “Ughwhe” before the darkness reclaims its hold on me.

***My head is filled with my fathers voice, it sounds irritated. ‘Come on pull the trigger. Remember all the time and training. I’ve prepared you for this moment, don’t let my devotion be in vain, do it, pull the trigger. His words hit deep and cut like jagged daggers. I close my eyes forcing my heartbeat to slowdown, then I tighten my grip on the gun, then I tighten my grip on the trigger pulling it back until I hear it click and hear the roar of the bullet exiting the gun. I wince at the sound a great sonic boom in my fragile mind. In the next instance we where showered with masses of thick rich blood, chucks of gray matter, and pieces of tattered flesh. I press back the urge to throw up. ‘Well done, well done’ my father says slapping me on the back. I’ve pleased my father, I’m happy he’s so proud, ones man life is worth that, right? My father’s tactical preparations for me where not in vain, they got put to use, his tears, blood, and sweat earned him his prized fighter. So what was I waiting for, the darkness couldn’t hold me forever and when it released me again I would defend myself from all the evil people leering at my unconscious body. Yes, finally the light is conquering the dark I can hear the voices talking around me.***

“When she wakes up load her into the truck.” The officer barked.

Although I am fully replenished I keep my eyes closed, and when I think its safe I manage to sneak a peak at my surroundings assessing the situation. There are about seven Alliance men with their guns pointed at three other people, their hands up in surrender. There’s one more man he’s kneeling down beside me he glances away briefly but its enough time to let me get a full look at his face. I recognize him immediately; he works for my father, which means my father sent him to look for me. He’s Alliance scum, a commander, and the people they have in surrender probably didn’t do a damn thing. I manage another peek this time I focus closely at the three suspects, it becomes evident as to why they where stopped, the one I imagine to be the leader is wearing a brown coat; that’s reason enough for them. Surely prejudice can’t be the motivator of all things evil, some high-classed core idiot could have taken me for all they know. Time to teach them a lesson.

Before my captors took me I was searched for any paraphernalia; it was a half-assed search. So I still had Razor, my handmade one of a kind miniature version of a traditional boomerang used back in Australia on the Earth-that-was. My father had given Razor to me for my 15th birthday, it was blue and white, my initials where engraved in the front, and all the sides and edges where covered with razor sharp blades gleaming with the anticipation to sink deep into flesh. When the right moment finally presented itself I dug in the underlining of my shirt, revealing Razor and with a quick flick of my wrist she flew out of my hands making a clean circular path taking out all of the commanders men, then returning safely to me. Before the commander could register what had taken place I made my move for his gun and trained it on him. “I see my father is still paying you for your unnecessary services.”

“Yes, and it would be best that you remember that. He’d be so disappointed once I’ve told him what you’ve done to his men.”

“Well, then I’d best not give you the opportunity.” The commander fell lightly to the ground after being hit in the head with his own pistol. The darkness had found a new prisoner.

“Amazin’.” It was Jayne who spoke first delighted by the theatrics that had just taken place. He was grinning like a baboon. “Ah, come on Mal, can we keep her?”

“No, Jayne that would be kidnappin’ and a very bad idea seeing as every Alliance member is lookin’ for her.”

“Who are you? What did you do to have so many Alliance after you like that?” Zoe asked.

“I didn’t do anything I was kidnapped, taken right off my father’s ship. My father is an Alliance general, that’s why there was so many of them looking for me.”

“You ain’t gonna kill us, are you?” Jayne asked.

“Nay, which means I just saved your lives because they surely would have.”

“Well, then I do think a ‘thanks’ is in order.” Mal reckoned.

“Hows about you keep the ‘thanks’ and give me the keys to the mule instead.”

“Hey, I though you where a good guy.” Jayne said.

“I am one of the good guy’s I’m just not stupid.”

“I think your missin’ the big picture here sweetie your out numbered 3 to1.” Mal stated.

“I think your missing the bigger picture sugar pie my gun is drawn yours are not. I’d shoot you all dead before you could draw, I’m just that good.”

“Good point.”

“Now disarm your weapons and make a nice little pile on the ground.” All three did as they where told though Jayne hesitated. Once the pile was on the floor the girl stooped down and threw them in the back of the mule her gun still trained on the threesome. Mal handed her the keys to the mule but couldn’t resist one last comment.

“I usually don’t allow strangers the use of my property.”

“Names Xanajade Ling, but most people just call me Jade.” She declared taking the keys from Mal, hopping into the mule and speeding off into the distance.

Mal, Zoe, and Jayne stood huddled around each other surrounded by dead and unconscious bodies, what a pretty picture this would make should more Alliance personnel stumble upon them. I guess it was time for plan B; they would have to make the long walk back to Serenity. The suns had set now it was completely dark except for the silver glow coming off of the moon, providing them with enough light to retrace their tracks back to Serenity.

Defeat sometimes is a strong unexpected blow that knocks you off your feet but its whether we get back up or not that truly determines if we have been defeated. Its been said that it takes losing something to really know what it meant to you. Jayne was having that feeling right now, he had found Jade to be wonderful in the way she had defeated those men but now he hated her, that little-no-good-God’s-mistake-mama’s-burden-thief had taken Vera.

“If she even puts one scratch on Vera, that lil’ blade of hers won’t stop the hurtin’ I’m gonna send her way.” Jayne could have gone on forever and ever but stopped when they all could see Serenity silhouetted in the distant dark, the where almost home a place where they could leave there problems at the door, well maybe not, but she still would keep them warm and safe for the time being.