Cap’n Reynolds You can hear the Reaper whisper as you’re drilling through the black Hauling widgets to the second moon of five, And you know that he’ll be on you if you ever turn your back, But for now you’ve never felt so much alive. There is no home behind you; the Alliance saw to that, And no safe refuge waits for you ahead— Just an endless string of mudballs that the ‘formers have knocked flat And a cold and lonely coffin when you’re dead. But Serenity’s still flying, and that’s all that matters now, And everything you care about is here; Cause the people who aren’t with you just don’t matter, anyhow, And stuff just finds a way to disappear. Oh, it’s luck and guile and patience and no small amount of sweat— Cause it’s sure not just the physics makes her fly. .And one day you’ll die together, but it hasn’t happened yet, And for now you own this little piece of sky. Yes, it’s sweat and blood and courage and no small amount of love That lets Serenity keep flying free. So let the Reaper whisper, ‘cause when push comes to shove, There’s simply no place else you’d rather be. Paul Haynie 10/26/2002 Changeling (for Jewel Staite) While it’s true most of the Faerie Folk are children of the Green, Don’t dare forget the Gremlin-kind, who follow Dame Machine. They make their homes in crankcases, on circuit boards, and such, And if you pay no mind to them, they won’t harass you, much. Now, our Kaylee, she’s a changeling, with her roots in gremlin-kind; She’s a more than passing-pretty girl, but she’s got a gremlin’s mind. She says the engines talk to her, tell her what needs be done, And that grueling annual overhaul is just her idea of fun. She’s an innocent romantic when she deals with human kind, But if you're wanting a mechanic, she’s the best you’ll ever find. Mal Reynolds holds the papers, but she’s made his ship her own; She's the Queen of all the Gremlins, and Serenity’s her throne. Paul Haynie January 15, 2003 Silver Lady She wasn’t born to beauty, and she wasn’t born to wealth, And there’s many wouldn’t notice her at all, But if those of us who love her should stand up to drink her health, Best stand with us, or be ready for a brawl. She’s our home, and she’s our mother; she’s our nation; she’s our friend, And a time or two she’s almost been our tomb; And she’ll play our freedom games with us until the bitter end, While making sure we’ve lots of running room. It’s a sacred symbiosis when you work a spacer’s deck, Cause without the ship you’d soon be cold and blue, But the greatest ship that ever sailed is just a drifting wreck Without the little bugs inside her called her crew. There’re forty thousand Fireflies out there drilling through the black, Playing permutations of the transport game, But there’s only one whose bulkheads feel like home against my back, And “Serenity” is that lovely lady’s name. Paul Haynie January 18, 2003 Courtesan (for Morena Baccarin) Theodora was a courtesan who turned the Emperor's head, And when he made her Empress, his advisers whined their dread. Yet when the city rioted, and the Emperor turned to flee, Theodora chose to face the crowd, saying, "Worry not for me; For I shall die an Empress, I will wear my purple gown, And I will be remembered if the mob should throw me down." And when the Emperor heard her, he knew he could not flee, But called his guards and faced the mob and set the city free. And she is still remembered after fifteen hundred years; Purple silk and cast iron backbone, never yielding to her fears. Now, Inara is a courtesan who’s turned the captain’s head, But Malcolm won’t admit it; he’d sooner be struck dead. She’s been the captain’s conscience, and they’ve become good friends, But they never will be more than that unless one of them bends. And since bending isn’t something either one’s learned how to do, Their courtship dance goes nowhere, though it entertains the crew. Inara’s never told us why she wanders through the black, But now she’s made her home here and it’s clear she’ll not go back. She’s a great and gracious lady, and she’s wise beyond her years; Golden silk and cast iron backbone, public smiles and private tears. Paul Haynie January 18, 2003 Mr. Cobb (for Adam Baldwin) He’s big and bad and vulgar, and accomplished in the trade Of making other people hurt and bleed If he only could stop thinking, he would really have it made, ‘Cause a conscience is one thing he doesn’t need. He’ll say it’s love of money that keeps him in the game, When he’s shot, or stabbed, or beaten black and blue; Cause it’s sure not altruism or a hope of lasting fame That keeps him running with Mal Reynold’s crew. He knows he loves the game itself, and that keeps him in the life, Though he’d never say that even to himself; He’d much rather talk of money, or tell tales of deadly strife, Or show off the captured firearms on his shelf. He was promised ten points off the top and a cabin of his own, Back in the day when he joined Reynold’s gang. It’s weird that they’re the closest thing to family that he’s known; He’s more used to men who’d laugh to see him hang. And the thing that really bothers him, as he sits and hones his knife, While Serenity is drilling through the sky, Is that Mal would take on Hell itself to save his sorry life; He knows it, but he can’t imagine why. Paul Haynie January 22, 2003 Simon It would have been so easy to sit back and let things be, To ignore your sister’s covert cry, and not try to set her free. But you chose to give up all you had for the sake of who you are; Now you’re set on River’s twisted course as you wend from star to star. You were a man of substance, then; you had prestige and wealth; Now you find yourself an outlaw, nursing brigands back to health. You’ve learned to laugh at deadly threats; you’ve been beaten, stabbed, and shot, And you’ve learned that this insanity is just an outlaw’s lot. Sometimes you think of might-have-beens, and try to fix the blame, But given the same choice again, you know you’d act the same. And River has a family now, as she did not before, Friends who’d kill or die for her, and it’s hard to ask for more. It would have been so easy to sit back and close your eyes, To listen to your parents, and believe the system’s lies, But you gave up everything and set out for a distant star, Stepped over the volcano’s edge, and found out who you are. Paul Haynie January 23, 2003 Second (for Gina Torres) Robin Hood had Little John; King Arthur had Gawaine; Samwise carried Frodo over the loathsome Mordor plain. Look close at any hero, and odds are good you'll find There's a buddy standing next to him, or half a step behind. Now Malcolm, he has Zoe, and she’d follow him through Hell; In fact, she has, and more than once, and she has the tales to tell. She’s beautiful and deadly, taciturn and sometimes grim, And though Mal won’t admit it, he knows her soul belongs to him. But then crazy Wash, the pilot, went and won the lady’s heart, And Mal soon found it pointless to keep the two of them apart. And since Serenity has ample quarters for all three, There’s no point in arguing “ownership”; best to just leave such things be. Oh there’s Little John and Sancho, Samwise, Moonglum, and Gawaine, Each one better than a “master” touched by fate, and not quite sane. So it’s fine if Mal’s a bit unhinged, and his goals are hard to find; Zoe’s path is clear as crystal; she’s just half a step behind. Paul Haynie January 24, 2003

Dreamer (for Alan Tudyk) They said there was a sea of stars beyond the leaden sky; Wash heard those stars call out to him, and determined he would fly. He made his way to flight school, and there he got the chance To get above the leaden clouds, and watch the stellar dance. He learned to make an airborne brick float like a hummingbird, And he held on to his sanity by seeking the absurd... It started out as just a job, another ship to fly, But nothing's ever simple when you share Mal Reynolds' sky. The smuggling didn't bother him; he'd played that game before, And he'd had to deal, a time or two, with veterans of the war. The money wasn't wonderful, but Mal's X.O. was hot, And if this gig did not work out, he'd find another spot... Down the line, they got to him, Mal Reynolds and his crew; Kaylee gave the ship a soul (it's crazy, but it's true) By some demented miracle, the X.O. became his wife (Over Mal’s objections, a source of no small strife). If Mal owns Zoe’s soul, Wash has her body, and her heart, And he’d be first to tell you he has far the better part. A pilot’s place is at the helm, not scrabbling though the mud; A pilot shouldn’t have to deal with gunfire, sweat, and blood. But things just don’t go smoothly with Mal Reynolds on your side, And Wash has learned to take his lumps without a break in stride. He has a home and family; he has a ship to fly, And the stars he used to dream about are always in his sky. Paul Haynie January 30, 2003

Looking Glass (for Summer Glau) The world comes into focus, and you wonder if it's real, And if it's your own eyes you see it through; You wish you had a way to know if things you see and feel Had anything to do with what is true. And some of it is fanciful, and some of it is real, And some of it is neither, both, or wrong, And the Hatter said that if you'd wait he'd give you such a deal, And you wonder what is taking him so long. The silver ship sings lullabies as you shiver in your bed, And the stars sing private pity of your plight, While the hands of blue weave baskets of the thoughts within your head, As they softly skulk through shadows made of light. The White Knight is named Malcolm, since his path is never straight, Though he manages the rescue in the end, And the March Hare urges you to try some cake you know you'll hate, And says the big bright blue sun is your friend. At times it all seems solid, and you know that for a while, Your world will hold your brother and your friends, But even that is tainted by the lambent azure guile As you brace yourself for when the moment ends. So Simon chases Jabberwocks armed with a hollow blade And wishes for a monster he could see, While your friends pour out the secrets of their daily masquerade, And the Dormouse bids you come inside for tea. Paul Haynie February 4, 2003