Mal stood with his back to the wall, hiding in the shadows. Slowly he reached for his gun. The sweat ran fast from his brow, slowly tapping the floor with each drop. The screech of a Reaver falling upon heightened ears. His fingers wrapped around his faithful pistol, and he drew it. Slowly trying to avoid the clicking noise of his holster, his life seemed to slow down, inch by inch as a blade flew towards his face. He moved just in time, allowing only a strand of hair to be struck by the blood crusty blade. He unloaded 2 bullets into the Reaver, who in turn fell down to the floor by Mal’s feet. The rest of the floor seemed to shake with the response of an army. Mal quickly took off running throughout the space crafts corridor, seemed like a while to Mal, of how he go onboard a Reaver space craft. Seemed like almost a lifetime since he was sat commutable aboard serenity, and he hated the thought of never returning. To hear Wash’s jokes, Jayne’s all round manner of unpleasantness. Kaylees sweetness, Zoe’s, well Zoe’s and his old war stories, the doctors standards and politeness, River’s creepiness. Most of all he would miss the smell and the feel of Inara’s body. He would miss that the most. But that was the least of his worried right now. He had a few hundred Reavers after his bones. Still he couldn’t help to laugh at how he got himself trapped on this boat.