There was never enough of anything.

Never enough food or money. Not even enough room. He couldn't even take a piss without tripping over someone on the way to the crapper.

As soon as he could pass for sixteen, he joined a crew and left Hephaestus for good. And while his Ma hated that he was a thief and a smuggler and other things, she ain't never complained about the credits he sent home.

But it ain't like he had a lot of choices if he had stayed. He was never good at school and he refused to wind up mining like his Pa. Fightin' was the only thing he was good at.

He paused. He wondered how to finish the letter to his Ma. She didn't need to know anything about Miranda. He was doin' his best to forget about almost dyin'.

Instead, he thanked her again for his hat. He hoped that Molly and her new baby were doin' good. And of course, he was sending home some credits. He was going to write again real soon.

He folded the letter and put it in an envelope. He didn't know when Mal would dare to stop on a piece of rock civilized enough to have a postal franchise. He would have to wait until then to mail it.


* * * * *

River sighed as leaned back in the pilot's seat. The mercenary was not one of her favorites on the crew. But she truly envied him his letter to home.