It was lung cancer. Sure, it could have been treated and probably cured, but when you’re living on one of the border planets and not lucky enough to have a fancy home in the Core, there’s not much you can do. The local Doc tried his hardest to make my father comfortable, but in the end, he told us that the best thing that we could do was to make him happy, and to pray. My Ma was always the church-going one, always prayin’ for all of her kids; that we’d grow up strong and brave, that we wouldn’t do anything stupid, that one day we’d make a difference. So when the news of Pa’s cancer came back from the Doc, Ma simply added that to her list of prayers. She had this gold cross that she always wore, and every day she’d sit at Pa’s bedside, holdin’ that cross like it was her only lifeline. She would pray for hours, not only for Pa, but also for us, all seven of us kids. My four brothers, two sisters and I took turns sitting with Pa too, and we’d pray just like Ma taught us. For a while there, it seemed like the prayers were working; he was getting stronger, he could sit up and even walk around for a short period of time. Ma of course praised God for healin’ my Pa, and so did the rest of us. We were happy then, and I had faith that everything would be okay. Then one day Pa couldn’t get out of bed. He was weak, and tired, and he couldn’t hold down any food. Ma sent me to get the Doc, but by the time I got back, Pa was looking worse than he ever had before. The Doc looked him over, just out of respect, but when he was done, he came out of the room with a somber look on his face. He told us that the cancer had spread, and that Pa had maybe a few days to live. We all cried at that. All of us except Ma. She just went back in that room and prayed. Except this time, her prayers weren’t that God would heal him, they were asking that Pa would go in peace, that he wouldn’t be in pain for too long. Ma was never the selfish kind, something that she instilled in me that day. I needed something to do, and I couldn’t just sit in the house. So I went to our neighbor’s house, about two miles away, and used their Cortex link. I searched around for a while, reading about cancer, and all of the fancy machines they had in the Core, and about all of the new cures that they were developing. Maybe that’s where my hatred of the Alliance began, with the realization of just how little they cared for the people on rim. My Pa was one of the most important people in my life, but he didn’t have a lot of money, so as far as the Alliance was concerned, he didn’t exist. Yeah, I think that was where it started. I finally got tired of reading up on cancer, so I decided to find something to take my mind off of Pa. Eventually, I stumbled across a link for a fan site for one of the new holovids that I had seen before on the Cortex, so I decided to test the waters and say hi. The response was overwhelming. I was brand new to the link, but the other kids there acted like we had been friends for years. So then I mentioned my Pa, and it was like nothing I had ever seen before. People I had never met before were telling me that they were prayin’ for Pa, and sending their best wishes along. It was so amazing. I went home that night and told my Pa, and he managed to grin at that. “People are prayin’ for me,” he said, smiling. I went back the next day, and talked with everyone until the sun went down. I went home and told my Pa stories that I had read, things that I had been told, jokes where I messed up the punch line, but Pa still laughed. He seemed honored that so many people cared about his well-being. I did the same thing every day for the next two months, and I believe that’s what helped Pa stay alive as long as he did. Prayers and well-wishes from all over the galaxy, all for him. I came home one night, and Pa could barely keep his eyes open. I told him stories, like I did every day, and we prayed, like Ma taught me. Before he went to sleep, he grabbed my arm and looked me in the eye. “Tell ‘em all ‘thank you’,” he said softly. Pa passed peacefully in his sleep, just like Ma had prayed. I went to the neighbor’s and got on the Cortex, and let everyone at the link know about Pa. They responded again, this time with prayers for my family. I hadn’t cried yet, but when I read all of those responses, I finally broke down and cried. I cried with thanks that Pa hadn’t gone alone, that he had the whole Galaxy there with him, and I cried that they were all there for me as well. Ma took me aside later, and asked me about the Cortex link, and when I told her, she smiled. “Malcolm Reynolds,” she said between tears, “You tell those people thank you.” I smiled. “I already did,” I replied. “I already did.”