*Disclaimer, I do not own Firefly, this is purely for entertainment*

A.N. Warning this story is a random combination of thoughts in my head and has not been to a beta. It is also a semi-sequel to my other story Belief. Please no flames, constructive criticism is always appreciated.

...

It was cold. The wind whistled through the air, driving the rain mercilessly into whatever objects were unfortunate enough to be in its path. The ground had long ago turned to mud making the terrain inhospitable and in the distance, if one listened, the sounds of bombs could be faintly heard.

However, in a small, bombed out shack, next to a small lantern, one man sat oblivious to everything but the letter in his hand. It read.

Dear Malcolm,

You have no idea how much it hurts to write this, but your ma and the ranch are gone. Them purple bellies been bombin' Shadow since you left, the worthless dogs. The planet's dying son and your ma knew it. No way any livin' soul could survive this. By the time this war's over, Shadow'll be gone, Purple bellies will have destroyed another good and honest thing in the verse. She's barely liveable now. Sorry, Maggie says I got off track.

Your ma saw what was happening and ordered all us with family to get off the planet, raise our kids (we're raising Jimmie's little one's I'm guessin you heard about him the mess on Osiris), live to see another day but she refused to leave. It was more than land to her. Was you and your daddy too. The last attack was the worst yet, everyone in near our place who stayed is gone.

We are sorry Malcolm,

Pete and Maggie

Malcolm Reynolds had known Shadow was being bombarded regularly. The planet had proved a veritable stronghold of Independent supporters ready to face anything and pay any cost to remain free. Somehow though, he had never realised that his mother may be willing to pay with her life. Worst was, Mal didn't even know how old the letter was and with that, how long his mother had been gone. With all the bombing runs the Alliance had been making lately, it was impossible to narrow down a specific attack and though Ma had made her hands learn to read and write, Mal knew for a fact Pete couldn't tell you the time of day, let alone a specific day.

None of this made sense anymore. Mal was so tired. Tired of young men laying dead and dying all around him, tired of women and children starving behind blockades, tired of loved ones being torn apart, tired of the pointlessness of everything. Suddenly a gust of wind blew through the damaged shack, catching his cross necklace ever so slightly as it passed.

The gentle action, so calming when Mal was younger, now caused the grief-stricken man to flare in anger towards the faith of his childhood.

"God? What? You really want me to believe this is all part of some greater good? You honestly want me to believe that killing the last family I had, destroying the one place I had peace was what you a supposedly good and all mighty God wanted?" Mal snorted in derision.

"No I can't believe this. You should have done something. You could have, you should have stopped all this. Do you like sitting up there, all powerful, all knowing watching us die like insects? Maybe we had it all wrong? Maybe you aren't a good and loving God. Maybe you're sadistic and vengeful. Maybe you we're just waiting for this to happen. Maybe you we're so sick of us you wanted us to die, wanted us to be crushed off the face of this verse."

"You could have stopped all this. You could have saved Ma. You could have saved all those kids who died, kids I had to watch die. How many have to suffer until you're happy?" Mal collapsed against the wall, shaking, as his tirade wore down.

As Mal sat there, silent grief wracking his body, a memory, unwittingly re-entered his mind.

Mal had just turned ten years old and the ranches had finally decided to export their goods in the hopes of receiving higher prices and secure a better life for their families. Unbeknownst to their neighbours, the Trevor's, the off world partners they had located to aid the rancher's co-op had recently strayed into the territory of a growing power in their territory. Mal vaguely remembered the man's name – Niska. Rather than confronting the settlers Niska had violently lashed out at the defenceless settlers. That summer a bio-engineered plague has struck Shadow, wiping out more than 85% of their annual crop. Aid had eventually arrived from neighbouring planets but not before a noticeable portion of the young, the ill, and the elderly had succumb to the rampant starvation.

Mal remembered the events well but what really stood out was a conversation he had had with his mother a week before the blockade had been breached and help had arrived.

...

Flashback

Mal was hungry. The famine had hit them six weeks ago and for some reason help had still not arrived. Some of the ranch hands had been muttering that the men who caused the blight to strike them were also keeping ships from bringin food and medicine. Just didn't seem fair.

I mean, what could any of them had done to make people mad enough to make 'em all die slow and painful deaths, abandoned by everyone? All Mal wanted was some food and to be able to play with his friends again instead of always being so tired, well, that and for his Ma to smile again. It wasn't like she hadn't smiled at all since the blight started but it was always to comfort other and her eyes always seemed so sad. Mal would have done anything to hear her laugh again.

Mal pushed the mush in his small bowl around a third time. This bowl would be their only meal today, food was just too scarce to ration any more. Word had it that the Trevor's little girl, Meghan, had died yesterday from something called malnutrition. Mal figured that meant she just didn't have enough food and gave up livin', but was too scared to ask anyone if that was true. Either way he was grateful for the little they had and figured if he played with it long enough he could trick himself into thinkin it was a bigger meal.

All of a sudden Mal sensed someone moving behind him, it was his Ma. She looked tired and worn, and had definitely lost weight during the blight, making her seem even more delicate in Mal's eyes than usual. She smiled sadly at the sight of her young son's obvious joy at her presence and his first real smile in weeks. Sitting down beside him on the steps, she gave him a hug and began to eat her own meagre supper.

Mal looked over at his ma eating her small rations when a gust of wind blew up and caught his pa's necklace, causing it to sway gently around his neck. Suddenly, unable to hold his questions any longer Mal looked at his ma and blurted

"Ma?"

"Yes, sweetheart," putting down her bowl to focus on her son.

"Nothing"

"Malcolm Reynolds, I know you better than that son, speak your peace and calm your soul." Fragile appearance or not, Mrs. Rachel Reynolds possessed a spirit that few men on Shadow were brave enough to rile.

"It's just, I mean, well. The preacher always talks about how God is so good but I don't think I can believe him anymore. I mean if he's good why are so many people dying? Why are so many people giving up and hungry and hopeless? Why do we have to suffer? Doesn't God care? I mean if what the preacher says is true, God coulda stopped all of this before it started, nobody had to be sad, or hungry, or . . . dead" Mal dropped his head so his ma couldn't see the tears of frustration glistening in his eyes.

"Oh my precious boy" Rachel's voice caught in her throat as she considered her son's dishevelled appearance "I don't know all the answers you're looking for, men have been trying to answer them since the dawn of time. If you'd like though, I can tell you what I know?"

Mal looked towards his mother and silently nodded.

"Mal, what does the preacher say God wants us to do?"

"To love him and obey him, and, umm, he wants to have a relationship with us."

"You were paying attention, I'm so proud of you. Now, we know that God is in control but he also allows us the freedom to make our own choices. We can choose to do right or we can choose to do wrong. It's called free will. Do you know why that is?"

"Ummmm, nope" Mal shrugged his shoulders feebly.

"If I told you that you had to be friends with the ranch hands children, that you must play with them, be nice to them, and consider them your best friends would it be much of a friendship?"

"No, that would be stupid. I chose them to be my friends. If you had told me too I wouldn't have, just wouldn't have been the same. "

"Well, if God didn't allow us the option of choosing him it would be a similar situation. We wouldn't really have a relationship with him; we'd been in a forced contract. No better than a bunch of robots doing whatever we were programmed to do." Rachel imitated an antique robot to further her point and Mal giggled.

"So, we can choose, but I don't understand why are all these things happening to us, Ma."

"I'm getting there sweetheart. Our choices, good or bad have consequences that must be faced. The bad men chose to hurt us by infecting our crop and creating a blockade. The consequences of that choice is that our crops died and now the people on Shadow are suffering. What we are living through are the consequences of those men's choices."

"But we didn't choose, so why do we have to die." Mal quickly covered his mouth, he didn't want to upset his Ma by mentioning the death surrounding them, but surprisingly she just smiled.

"Our choices don't just affect us, Mal, our choices affect everyone around us. God could have made us robots, but he chose not to and that means that sometimes our lives get messy as we deal with the consequences and during those times, God cries with us and gives us the strength to endure, walking with us."

...

Mal shook himself out of the memory as he felt the urge to begin mourning his Ma again. Years later and he was still wrestling with the same questions. Would it ever end? Ma would have said that this war was the consequences of people's actions on both sides. She would have been content to know that no matter the outcome, God's will would be done. But could he accept such things? Did he have the faith of his mother?

"Sir?" It was Zoe, his second in command and right hand in this chaos.

"Yes Sergeant?"

"New orders Sir. Thought you might like to know" Zoe smirked and then soften almost imperceptibly "Everything alright Sir? You're not looking so hot."

"Just some more unsettling news from . . . home. You mentioned something bout new orders?"

"Yes sir, we're being moved. Whole battalion's being sent to a location of high significance. If rumour holds true this could be our last big push Sir.

"Where are we maritaling too?"

"Serenity Valley sir. We're to hold the line at all costs, reinforcements will be sent as they become available, but we'll be up front for the whole show. I'll go start rounding up our men so we're ready to move when the transports arrive" and with that the Sergeant disappeared out the door.

Sighing slightly, Mal pushed himself up off the floor, gave his necklace a quick kiss, and motioned to follow his Sergeant's path outside.

"Serenity" Mal snorted softly "don't I wish."