Sun, Stand Thou Still

Sun, Stand Thou Still

SERENITY
"Sun, Stand Thou Still"

by R. John Burke

DISCLAIMER: Firefly/Serenity is a creation of Joss Whedon and a copyright of Fox & Universal. I don't own these characters, and this is just fan fiction. No money is involved, no infringement intended.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is my first attempt at writing a serious Firefly story and, much as I love the 'verse, I haven't spent much time in the fandom. So if there's weird stuff here, particularly about Book's past, that doesn't sit right with you... well, it's all wildly speculative. Please be gentle. ;-)

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New Olympia Colony
0600 Local Time
Toward the End of the Unification War

The sun hadn't even thought about rising over New Olympia's craggy skyline, the air still reverberated with the song of crickets and, somewhere off in the distance, the howling of some settler's dog, and the air was cold enough to frost every breath out of Sergeant Malcolm Reynolds' mouth. He gazed across the landscape, taking in the stars and the flag of the 57th Overland, and grinned. Then he knelt down and started cleaning his rifle.

In a matter of moments, he could strip it down, polish it, and reassemble it in the dark. He could pick a flea off a toad's back, too, if he had any mind to waste good ammo on splattering vermin. Since he didn't, he only sighted with the rifle and left the rest to his imagination.

"If only your momma could see you now, huh, sir?" said a voice behind him, and Mal laughed.

"She'd whip me good. My mother was a Christian woman who raised me up to be a decent, well-mannered man."

"Huh," said Corporal Zoe Alleyne slowly. "What happened?"

Mal snapped the last piece of the rifle into place. "The Alliance, I reckon."

"No, sir."

He glanced up at her. "No, sir?"

"No, sir." Zoe shook her head. "Most of us, we'd be staying out of trouble if the Alliance had kept its place. I'd probably be killing Reavers on some shiny rock. Makes me weep to think on it. But you, sir? I expect a man like you is just born to be unhappy. If there weren't any dragons to fight, you'd make one up."

Mal considered her words, shrugged, and said, "Might be something to that. How're the troops?"

Zoe helped him to his feet and glanced back at their tattered assemblage of tents. "In good spirits, I'd say. Good spirits and skinny bodies."

"That's as may be. How many we facing?"

"Division HQ isn't sure. Nobody's sure. Depends on the number of drop ships, and the pool's going strong anywhere from four to a million."

Mal nodded slowly. "How'd you bet?"

"I didn't." The corporal did some quick calculations in her head. "Reckon there's got to be ten or twelve, else they're chasing a fox with a rabbit. Been a while since the Alliance sent us a commander that -feng le.-"

"A body can dream, though." Mal sighed. "Twice our numbers. That'll be a shindig. 'Course, I hear one Browncoat can whip a dozen of those people, so that leaves us a six to one edge."

Zoe laughed. It was not a happy sound. She didn't comment on her sergeant's assessment of the odds, but he could imagine that, too. Mal decided to change the subject.

"Anybody run off last night?"

His corporal looked unhappy. "Two more-- Hoskins and Pardee. Whole company's buzzing. Nobody figured Hoskins for a coward. Next time I see that -hun dan-, he might have a little accident. Just telling you in advance."

Mal waved a hand. "Let it go, Zoe."

"Wasn't asking you, sir. Like I say, just telling."

"Let it go." He turned to her. "Now look... you know he's a -hun dan- and I know he's a -hun dan-, but I don't reckon this whole fight's worth anything if a man's not free to be a -hun dan- in this 'verse."

Zoe regarded him with some amusement. "Takes one to know one... sir."

"I don't want anybody with us who don't want to be with us," Mal said. He took a deep breath and blew it out as a cloud of steam. "We'll fight this on our merits. That's how we'll stand or fall."

"Ah," said Zoe. She started walking away, tossing over her shoulder: "Ask me, we're all in -yi da tuo da bian-..."

Mal nodded amiably, then turned out to the skyline once more. Two hours, no more, and then those purple-bellies would start falling from the sky and crawling all over the land like so many maggots. His soldiers, he knew, were well-protected here in the foothills, with good position and high ground. They could hold for a good, long while. Once -enough- maggots showed, however, the Alliance would flank them, and then they'd have to abandon the position to find another. Then they'd try to hold that one.

Eventually, if the Alliance wanted New Olympia bad enough, they'd come in such force that the Browncoats couldn't hold the planet itself. So they'd have to find some other rock, and the Alliance would pursue them there.

Mal frowned, as Zoe's pessimism stuck to his good mood and turned it sour. And what if, just maybe, the Alliance decided it wanted the whole damn galaxy that bad? What then? What if they flanked every Independent world in the 'verse? If that happened, there'd be nothing the Browncoats could realistically do about it. It would only be a matter of time.