Serenity Valley.
Everyone was off in their own corners of the ship as Wash started to approach the atmosphere around 60 miles above the Serenity Valley memorial's principal landing docks. Mal almost hopes that at least some of them are heading off toward Milliways at the moment, but he knows not to hope for everybody to do so.
And every name’s a father or a husband ( Read more... )
And every name’s a father or a husband ( Read more... )
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River is still walking as if she's barefoot: heel rolling to toe, slow and silent. Meditative.
Her head is tilted up, canted a little to one side, and she studies the clean graven walls with a detached and almost dreamy absorption.
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"Lot o' folk, isn't it?" Voice artificially flat, staring nakedly at River studying the wall.
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It's a minute before her gaze slides sideways to settle on Mal, though her head stays tipped upwards.
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They're all inside me, I can hear them all and they're saying nothing
Turning back to the wall. "It's a lot of people to carry around with a man."
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She's wearing her duster. Long, brown, well-worn; it's almost the twin of Mal's. Her hands are stuffed in the pockets, fingers shifting against the pocket lining or unseen contents.
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REMEMBER OUR FALLEN
"I never did quite understand how it was so easy for some folk to forget. Even people who were there."
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Then, softly, "Easier that way. Dig the ground and keep walking. Soothes the mind a spell."
She tilts her head back, looking up towards the high arched ceiling.
Softer, "Some folk can."
And some just carry the ghosts.
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The names blend together on the wall, and he doesn't even attempt looking for the small sigil of crossed bayonets next to any names that might indicate a man or woman he'd met before.
Mal's head rolls toward River, who seems to be continuing to stare off into space. "That ain't us."
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Very soft, "No."
Her gaze slides down over the etched wall. The thousands of names blur together, less text than texture; what River sees in them is anyone's guess.
"Just what it is."
A glance at him, and the faintest of smiles warms her eyes. "Brought the packbaskets."
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(Want to remember what he never forgot)
Even for as immense an impression the engraved wall in front of him made, it is one wall in a room with three others, full of memories he hasn't been willing to picture in a long time. Mal backs off from the wall after a few minutes, meandering with a purpose.
57th Overlanders - 'Balls and Bayonets'
Mal almost smiles to see pictures of faces he never lost sight of.
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Her footsteps whisper against smooth stone.
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Commanded by Colonel Terrence Orbin before his assassination on February 17, 2511. Replacement commander unknown.
Mal almost smiles at this. The less his name is in print, the better.
He thinks.
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A young face, dusky and androgynous beneath a cap of tousled short hair. The soldier stares outward, tired and defiant as only the young and idealistic can be. The freeze-capture film beneath River's fingers is smooth and seamless.
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There are several conflicting stories, but one report declares an alleged quote by Colonel Orbin stating 'If we were to fight with bullet balls and bayonets alone, this war'd be over in a month.' 57th Overlanders were one of the few units who still assigned bayonets as part of a soldier's personal armament.
Mal laughs outright, and the outburst sounds incredibly awkward before he calms itself and points out the mistake to River. "So, so wrong."
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After a moment, Colonel Orbin's statement gets the surely morons like you do not really exist stare.
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