Zoe Washburne

I was probably about four the first time I set foot on solid ground. We'd landed on planets and moons before but most times I never left the ship. My folks didn't want the hassle of looking after me while they traded with the locals. When I did come out I was on my Daddy's back, sleeping no doubt. But that day I walked off the ship holding his hand.

Most of what I "know" comes from other people's stories, and people are fond of stretching the truth. But what I do remember was the strangeness of it all, how odd it felt to stand on dirt, miles of rock beneath my feet. I couldn't feel anything and it scared me. Up until that moment I would have sworn I never once felt the ship, could never sense the engine or our steady push through space. But standing on that planet ... the solidness and stillness scared me. So I ran to keep from crying.

People say I was like a pinball, bouncing off everything and everyone, making big circles and small circles, dashing in and out of market stalls. I just remember running, fighting back my fear.

When we finally got back onboard, I slipped into a bulkhead, the one I'd built a fort in not too long before that. I hid in there and pressed myself against the metal just soaking up the vibrations. Wore myself out crying, too. Weren't for another two years before I left that boat again.

Muse: Zoe Washburne
Fandom: Firefly
Words: 252

You can't consider laws when you're trying to survive. Laws are made by the powerful often for the sole purpose to keep down the weak.

We break the law all the time; 'course we do. Salvaging goods off derelict ships, trading with and taking jobs from people who're often not terribly respectable; it's how we keep flying, how we stay alive. And that's not even close to our biggest offense, having River and Simon onboard, hiding them from the Alliance.

Out here the only measure of a man worth taking is his ethics, his morals, whether he tries to do right given his circumstances and the choices before him. It's why we ran afoul with Niska. Stealing the medicine was necessary; we needed the money. Bringing it back was equally necessary; people were going to suffer. A crime balanced against a moral judgment: on the rim folk understand that both are vital to a person's survival.

Muse: Zoe Washburne
Fandom: Firefly
Words: 156

You don't often have a choice in the matter. Least ways that's been my experience. And too often having the time to make "arrangements" is a luxury, something you should feel fortunate to have. Life's unpredictable in the best of times, but when you're outside the core, especially when you're on the rim, death can be around any corner. Those of us left behind will do what we can to see you resting peaceful. And if we know what you'd like and can see it happen, we'll do our best for you.

Me, I don't want mounds of dirt covering me when I die. I was born in the sky and I want to die there to. But even if I meet my end in a dusty settlement on some moon somewhere, I want to be brought back to the black. Wrap me in a burial cloth and send me into space. And if you can, I'd like to be burned. Let my ashes drift forever among the stars, get picked up by some passing meteor and become part of a new world.

Muse: Zoe Washburne
Fandom: Firefly
Words: 183

Zombies? Compared to Reavers, zombies are a gorram picnic. The most war torn troop of Independents could pull it together and fight back the living dead. Hell, give us enough firepower and the Serenity crew could do a pretty fine job on their own.

Now Reavers. Reavers would likely eat zombies for breakfast. Strip their skin and sew it into their clothes. Then top things off by using what's left as, to use a saying from Earth-That-Was, hood ornaments. If there was a zombie apocalypse, I say let's lead them out to the rim and let those xiong meng de kung ren* bastards finish 'em off.

We've been lucky when it comes to Reavers. We have the best pilot in the sky and a mechanic who practically breathes the same atmo as the engines so we've outrun them when we had to. 'Cause when you're facing Reavers on the hunt you run, and when you can't run you fight like hell. And if it looks like you're losin' that fight? Well, that's between you and your maker. Me, I'd try to make damn sure I saved my last two bullets for me and my husband.

* violent lunatic

Muse: Zoe Washburne
Fandom: Firefly
Words: 195