Shepherd Book rummaged reverently through the old, worn pages of his Bible. He mused at the pages River had tried to “fix” after one of her many unfortunate tantrums.

“Got time for a sermon, preacher?” Captain Malcolm Reynolds mocked as he walked through the room toward the bridge. An antagonizing smile spread across his face.

Book gently closed his Bible and, flatly, responded.

“For you, Captain, I always have time. Though I’m not sure the ’verse has enough time for me to get through that stubborn skull of yours.”

Malcolm stopped abruptly and turned. His smile faded. The joke had ended.

He sat at the head of the table, directly opposite Book. They eyed each other the way two lions might. Neither blinked. Book’s gentle nature had been overturned by something else. Something stern. Something harsh.

Mal broke the silence. “Tell you what, Shepherd. I’ll make you a deal. I’ll listen to what your god has to say. I’ll listen good.”

Book didn’t flinch.

“Just tell me who you were. What you did.”