“The airlock door opened up, and instead of the winds of atmo or the vacuum of space, what came in was a blaze a’ gunfire, and those demons on my back went flyin’.” Zoë actually smiled at the memory: Malcolm Reynolds, howling with the joy of battle as he walked into that hell with a big-ass rapid-fire gun in his hands, a minor arsenal of weapons and ammo strapped over the rest of him.
-- Back Stories II: Chapter 11 by mal4prez