Zoe Washburne made her way steadily toward the kitchen, thinking all the while. Every day, she reviewed each crewmember, mentally charting their "emotional progress" after Miranda. She needed to keep her mind busy, after all.

First there was the captain, who had called them all to the kitchen for some kind of emergency meeting. Apparently, he'd gotten some intel from the hun dan that had chased them across the expanse of the solar system.

Mal had thrown himself into their collective survival, taking on any jobs he could find. He'd even made a little speech about it, right after Miranda.

"Alright folks," he had said, "we're hurtin'. This whole gorram thing has taken something away from each one of us. It's alright to hurt, but concentrate on staying alive while you do it. That's all any of us can do."

He appeared to have taken his own advice. He was almost back to his old self, now. He was even back to skirting around his love life, or lack thereof.

Which brought Zoe to another person on her list: Inara. The Companion had spent a day in her shuttle, right after the fight. Afterwards, she had come out and done what she could to help set things to rights.

She was still very affected by her ordeal, but she hid it well, and was even back to annoying Mal.

Zoe shook her head. The idiots were still going at their pathetic little dance. She'd have to do something about that before long, if no one else did. In the meantime, she watched them closely.

Simon and Kaylee had each been instrumental in their significant other's recovery. Simon had naturally taken a little longer than Kaylee, due to her ever optimistic nature, but he was surprisingly resilient. As a trauma surgeon, he was no stranger to death, and like Zoe herself, had kept busy by keeping the rest of the crew alive.

Jayne had been unbearable in the black... until they landed at a world with a whorehouse and a bar. He hadn't started any fights, though. Zoe thought he might've had enough shooting to last him a little while. He had come back smelling of alcohol, sex, and dirt, but after that, he seemed to be fine.

River had officially taken over as pilot, at this point. She was easily the best in the 'verse, now that Wash was gone.

Zoe steeled herself against the tears and pressed on.

River wasn't completely better, but her violent episodes had turned into something more like extreme mood swings. And they didn't happen often either: only two since Miranda. She had proven herself a competent flyer, even under pressure. And they just seemed to get places a little faster now, with her at the helm.

Lastly, there was Zoe herself. She wasn't in the best shape, but she was holding out. She had permitted herself to cry, just that once at the funeral, and no more. Because she could no longer be the mother of Wash's children, she had officially (in her mind) adopted Serenity and everyone in it.

She had always been attached to Mal, ever since the war. Now she had been through another war, and she extended that attachment to each of the crew. As far as she was concerned, she was their mother, and she'd be damned to hell before any of them came to harm. She would protect them, keep them alive.

Just like Wash had done.

Zoe walked into the kitchen, and sat down at the table. All the others were there, and Mal cleared his throat.

"Now that you're all here, we can begin. We have some new information that came at us from an unusual and downright creepifyin' place. Our old friend in blue sent it to us."

The others remained silent, waiting.

Mal continued, "This first flexi is a whole buncha intel about what happened to River, and as it turns out, a few people like her. Simon, it's all yours." He then passed the flexi to Simon.

"Thank you, Captain." said Simon in a subdued tone. Kaylee squeezed his hand.

Mal went on, "But that ain't why I called you all away from your weight liftin', ruttin' and so on. I have a little bit of history to share with you all. It seems that our late preacher was so much more than that. Before he took orders, Book was a Parliamentary operative."

There was collective gasping and jaw dropping.

"Now, I ain't read the whole thing. I don't rightly wanna. Book was a good man, and that's all I need to know. But I think that eventually, he would have wanted us to know. So anyone who wants can have a look-see."

Zoe narrowed her eyes. "Excuse me, Sir, I have a question."

"Zoe."

"Sir, why would that ruttin' hun dan send us this intel?"

Mal pondered a moment, "Why did he let us go in the end? Mayhap he's sorry. Don't mean I won't kill'm next time I see him, though."

Zoe saw the logic in that. The Operative was a piece of work, and one that she might just kill herself, if she ever saw him again. But he wasn't the enemy, not anymore.

Any other time, the table would have been surrounded by chatter, but most folk were staring at the flexi on the table. The one about Book. Simon was scanning through the medical info on the other one.

Unsurprisingly, it was Jayne who broke the silence. This time, however, he didn't make a total ass of himself.

"I s'pose somebody oughtta look to that thing." He reached out and took the flexi off the table, got up, and headed for the cargo bay.

Slowly, everyone dispersed. Zoe, seeing that Simon wasn't going to be moving for some time, got up to leave. Then she heard Simon behind her.

"Ta ma duh!"

She turned around, "Somethin' wrong, Doc?"

"You'd better believe it! I knew that River wasn't the only student, but this is sick, and highly un-ethical!"

"Whatcha mean?"

"I'm reading a report that summarizes the three main projects at the academy. Project Farsight was River. Basically they wanted a telepathic spy and assassin, someone who could get in and out without anyone ever knowing they were there."

"And?"

"And then there is project Spartan, the most successful project by far, becaus they still have their subjects." he said darkly. "Basically, they're super soldiers, they plan to fill the military with them. They have been genetically modified, chemically enhanced, and supplied with some incredible nanotechnology. Test results indicate a three-hundred percent increase in strength, coordination, and reflexes. The only downside is, they're not so smart."

Zoe seethed inside. They were doing this go se to children. "That is definitely sick."

Simon frowned, "But it's not the worst of it. Project Demolition is by far the most inhumane thing I've ever seen."

"How so?"

"The subject of Project Demolition was originally the prototype for Project Spartan. They called him Foreman, and he received... special behavioral conditioning and training. While River and the others were programmed for simply being good at what they do, and following orders, this... Foreman was programmed for destruction.

"He was intended for missions of pure slaughter. Whether a building, a ship, or even a gorram world, he could destroy it, and leave none alive to tell the tale. But instead of simply trying to make him heartless, they used a modified form of Paxilon to induce aggression towards... everything. Of course, they also programmed him to follow orders to the letter, so he wouldn't turn on them."

Zoe's eyes were wide. "That's downright nasty... but you keep talkin' in past tense."

Simon looked up and smiled, "That's the only good news. They apparently didn't succeed in inducing aggression towards *everyone*. Apparently, they tried to test him against one of the other students, but he refused to fight. The other student took him apart. After one more incident, which isn't described here, they terminated him."

"Poor bastard."

"Well, it may just be the best thing that ever happened to him. He had all the enhancements that the subjects of Project Spartan possessed, and one more. They rigged his adrenaline gland so that it constantly secreted adrenaline into his system. His performance rose a hundred and fifty percent, but the modification also cut his expected life span in half. Also, suffered from what I can only call total insomnia."

"He never slept?"

Simon nodded.

"Poor bastard."

********

"That man is infuriating, irritating, obnoxious, insanely noble... and hot as hell." She sighed.

She could never stop thinking about him, even though a large part of her wished he was good and buried. She thought back to the time he'd been stranded on Bellarophon, stark naked. The thought made her wet. She'd even fantasized about him while pleasuring herself.

It was a rare man indeed, who had that honor.

She groaned, getting out of bed. It was time to get to work. There was always lots to be done. But she couldn't get her mind off the only man who had truly mesmerized, and scared, her.

"I'll bet he thinks of me, now and again." she said, then frowned, "As a whore."

She shook her head vigorously. "Stop being an idiot.", she said as she looked in the mirror. "It'll never happen. It's simply impossible. He's simply impossible."

But the thought wouldn't leave her head, "But he's got those eyes... and that ass."

She smirked. "And he did pull off that broadcast. That must have been insanely difficult. The man's a genius."

Her mother had always said that one day, she'd find a man she both admired and hated. And the only things you could do with a man like that were to run away from him, kill him, or marry him.

She was tired of running away, and she could never kill that man. Not anymore. That left just one option.

The woman known as Saffron, Bridget, Yolanda, and many other names stared at her own smile in the mirror, her decision made.

"I'm going to marry Malcolm Reynolds. Again. For real... this time."