Now, Mal was a fighter. The war brooked no others; you were either a fighter or you were a body in the way. As such, Mal had envisioned himself dieing in several dozen ways, ranging from heroic to gruesome (He wouldn't lie and say that it didn't gratify his ego when he envisioned himself dieing a glorious death so that his men could get out of a battle zone safely). But, throughout all the ways that he'd thought he'd die (Melted by bug acid, shot in the back by some fool who thought he was being a hero, spiked through the head...), he'd never, never had thought that he would be killed by a little girl of some fifteen odd years, who had probably never held a gun in her entire life. But, it appeared that not only he, but Simon, Wash, Tracey, Kaylee, and the rest of his compony would all suffer a fate similar to what Simon was oing through at the moment. Namely, clutching his head in pain and screaming his lungs out. Blood was starting to stream out of his ears and nose. Wouldn't be but a moment before his eyes start to bleed, and he'd end up like those swarm bugs not too far away. Mal unholstered his pistol, aiming it at the girls head unfalteringly. "What's your name, River? River, I ain't quite sure who you did this to the bugs, but I'd 'preciate it mightily if you didn't do it to the doc. I get the feelin' that, despite all your fancy menatl stuff, you ain't got the werewithal ta stop a bullet. Mindin' that we need Simon, and seein' as he's your brother, why don't you just let him go?" River looked at him, her eyes boring into his. He could see the pain in there. "He never came. He never came to rescue me. Why, Simon? WHY!!!!!!!!!" Simon started to shake, clutching his head tighter. "He was here, patchin' up our hurt. He was conscripted, mind; he couldn't a helped you outwithout gettin' shot. 'Sides, I think that he didn't know... whatever it is that the rest of us don't know 'bout," he finished weakly. It was enough. Simon stopped bleeding, but he started to twitch like a bug with its' head popped off. Maybe not the best metaphor, but still... Kaylee tushed over to him, looking at River pleadingly. Whatever it was that the mechanic wanted from the girl, it wasn't forthcoming. "Shouldn't have been here. They did... they did... things... with my head. It was... unnatural. Made me a weapon." She gestured wildl at the bugs surrounding them. "Each time I take the plunge, I need a bigger breath. My lungs will burst. Soon." She collapsed to her knees, sobbing lightly. She clutched her head, in a twisted mimicry of what her brother had done not but a few moments before. "Ruttin' metaphors," muttered Mal. Then, louder, so that all of the assembled hundred or so could hear, "Alright, folks. We have our objective... I guess. Radiomen, if you still have it, call for pickup. We're buggin' out, boys." A few men chuckled at the pun, but the rest were all still staring at River. She had gone into another fit of hysterics... again. Now, she was curled in the fetal posistion, babbling on and on, regardless of the mud hat was dirtying her up. "It's here. Lord Almighty Brethren is here, the Second Coming and the Second Apocalypse. Have mercy on poor souls, Almighty, for they know no better." Simon, the blood now cleaned from his face by Kaylee, went over to River. He captured her in a hug, shushing her and stroking her hair. He dabbed at the mud that coated part of her face, mixed with some blood. Some of it was own. "River, mei-mei... I'm here. It's over now. Those men, whatever they did to you... It won't happen again. I'll never, ever let that happen again." River returned the hug, her lithe frame having some untold strength in it. "No. You can't. Forever... is a long time." "Too long," said Simon sadly. He clutched his sister tightly to him. Her tears mixed with his own. A drop ship roared by overhead. They cheered. Fools all. *** Mal tred not to gag at the sight of the smug bastard. He had the gall not only to act like he just hadn't sent an entire company on a suicide mission just because they were Independents, but now was telling him that he had done his job wrong. How does one do a suicide mission wrong? Survive? "Sir, we got to the objective and completed our mission, despite heavy resistance by the enemy. Even after we lost almost an even half of the company, we still managed to get River out of there." Marx glared at him. "Sir," he added sheepishly. "And yet, Lieutenant, you somehow managed to lose a good quarter of my men to a swarm of dumb bugs." Marx looked down at him imperiously (Even though he was a good foot shorter than Mal was). "Sir, my men did all they could. As did I," he added stiffly. Again, a glare. "Sir." "Must I remind you, Lieutenant, that they are my men. I outrank you considerably. See these stars on my shoulder? Know how I got them?" Kissing ass and killing Browncoats? "No, Sir, I don't know, Sir." "By making good decisins that saved lives." Alliance lives, the unspoken last part of the sentence went. "As such, if I have to sacrifice a few men for the good of all, I will do so." You forgot to mention that it's the Independant remenants that you'll sacrifice. "Sir." Mal drew a deep breath, the urge to shoot the man growing steadily. "About what River said back there-" "547-20?" "Yes, Sir. Well, she said something about a 'Lord' coming. I believe that she is trying to say something about the Bugs, but I don't what. Also, a 'Second Apocalypse', which I also believe has some sort of connection to the Bugs. Sir" "Well, it's a very good thing that you're not a General, Lieutenant Reynolds. Just the ramblings of a crazy moonbrained girl, I assure you. As it is, she has yet to fulfill her purpose... although I fear that she may be too unstable for even that," he finished darkly. "May I ask what that would be, Sir?" "You may not, Lieutenant. Is she being taken care of?" "Yes, Sir. Simon is giving her a once over as we speak." "I see. Well, see that he is taken off the case. He has too much of an emotional attachement." "He's her brother!!! Sir," he added as an afterthought. Marx glared at him. "Be careful not to overstep your boundaries, Lieutenant. See that it happens. Or I will." Mal cursed the man under his breath, but nonetheless saluted and marched out the mans office stiffly. He hated his job sometimes.