Games at the border

Mortis grinned at his Auntie, dragging his sprained wing against the ground as he moved close enough to kiss her cheek. “Hey, Auntie. We kicked their asses” he explained, after Mal told her what they had faced. No need to go into detail about how they had been distracted, and caught unawares. They had still won in the end, and defended the Armada.

“She cleaned my cuts, too, and then we came right here” He promised, giving Mal a side-long smile. She had done well, or at least, to his inexperienced eye. At least she wasn’t still saying that this was her fault. He hadn’t liked to hear her try and take the blame.