| Angst | Firefly |
SUMMARY: Post-Serenity story. When these five kinds [of spies] are all at work, none can discover the secret system. This is called divine manipulation of the threads. -Sun Tze
*****
Zoe took night watch, since she didn't sleep much anyway. Kaylee bunked down in the engine room, locking the door behind her, and Zoe made one circuit of the ship before she slipped into the copilot seat up top.
Couldn't quite bring herself to sit in Wash's seat. She didn't believe in ghosts, but he'd died there. Cut her to the quick every time she saw someone sitting there wasn't him.
Up here on the bridge, alone with Wash's absence, the night passed slowly. Zoe stared out at the starscape, letting her thoughts wander. Remembering her parents, her home planet. Remembering the war. Remembering the P.O.W. camp and the reeducation. Remembering how dark and desolate her life was before Wash, and trying not to compare it to how alone she felt now. Eyes painfully dry, Zoe stared at a distant star until it blurred.
Soft footsteps sounded on the stairs, and Zoe swiveled her chair around. Inara slipped onto the bridge. "Morning," she greeted.
Surprised, Zoe asked, "Is it?"
"Just barely," Inara admitted, a self-conscious smile on her lips. "May I join you?"
"Please," Zoe invited, steeling herself against Inara taking Wash's seat.
"Do you really think River might be a spy?" she asked, moving closer, her gaze trained on Zoe. Inara hesitated almost imperceptibly, then altered course and settled herself at the top of the staircase leading down to the manual backup systems. She tucked her silken robe around her feet and leaned against the railing.
"I don't know," Zoe answered belatedly. "But the Maidenhead..." She trailed off, unable to put her doubts into words.
Inara sighed, wrapping her arms around her knees. "I know. But it seems like something would've happened before now. Simon and River have been with us for over a year."
"True," Zoe answered. "'Cept we just started makin' mischief for the Alliance six weeks ago." Six weeks. Felt like six years sometimes.
Inara didn't answer right away, her brow furrowing as she considered Zoe's point. "I just worry sometimes," she confessed in hushed tones. "Mal gets so paranoid."
"It's not paranoia," Zoe answered, thankful to be back on familiar ground. Alliance really was out to get them in some form or another, and Zoe wouldn't put it past them to use River's burned up brain as an advantage if they could.
Inara blew out a frustrated breath. "I know the Alliance wouldn't mind putting us all through an airlock. But half the time, Mal wears that as a badge of honor, and the other half, he's keeping us hiding among the border planets convinced one of us will do him in, either maliciously or unwittingly."
Zoe felt herself bristling and tried to modulate her tone. "Inara, you don't understand what he's been through--"
Inara turned to sit sideways, meeting Zoe's gaze, her expression determined. "And at some point, that doesn't work as an excuse anymore."
"It's not an excuse," Zoe snapped on a flood of cold anger.
Shaking her head, Inara pushed herself upright, pacing the bridge in small, tight circles. "You're misunderstanding what I'm trying to say," she explained. "I'll never know what happened in Serenity Valley, or in any of the other battles you fought. I've heard descriptions, but I'll never really know."
"No, you won't," Zoe agreed, blocking out the darkest of her memories. She resisted the urge to tell some of her stories to Inara since she was ultimately right -- Zoe could explain how it felt to lie among her dead comrades, she could describe the smell of it, and it wouldn't matter. Inara would never know, and Zoe would never forget.
"I know the war won't ever be over for either of you, not all the way. But--" Inara shrugged helplessly. "It is over."
"Not as long as the Alliance is after us, it's not," Zoe countered, arms crossed. Since Miranda, she almost relished this thought -- long as the Alliance kept after 'em, they'd have opportunities to strike back, get some small measure of justice for Shepherd Book, and for Wash.
Wouldn't ever be enough, but something was better than nothing.
"That's exactly what I mean," Inara said, moving closer and dropping to her knees to be more on a level with Zoe. "The war for independence is over. What's going on now -- it's not you and Mal against the world. This is happening to all of us, even spoiled, selfish me," she explained, and from the bitterness in her tone, Zoe knew Inara was quoting Mal.
"I don't see your distinction," Zoe answered.
"You do," Inara argued, eyes beseeching. "You thought Mal should've let Kaylee help. You let me go in after Jayne when you know Mal wouldn't have. You let me go because you knew that it was the best tactical move, and because I'm in this as deeply as you. I'm in this," she repeated fiercely.
"Inara--"
"I'm not asking you to be disloyal," Inara interrupted. "But you know Mal doesn't listen when I try to talk to him. Whatever's coming -- we're all a part of it."
Zoe held Inara's steady gaze for a moment. Seemed like Inara was making the same point Zoe'd already made to Mal. She dipped her chin. "I know."
Inara let that stand for a moment, then asked quietly, "Does Mal know?" But that was further than Zoe could go. Whatever counsel she gave Mal -- wanted or unwanted -- was between them. Much as she'd like to reassure Inara that Mal already got an earful on this particular subject, she wouldn't betray her captain. She simply stared back at Inara, her expression blank.
Inara nodded once and rose gracefully to her feet. "Fair enough," she said. "I'm going to try to get a little sleep."
Zoe accepted this without comment, simply swiveling her chair back to face the starscape, listening as Inara slid the door shut behind her. Mal hadn't said much to her outside of direct orders, but Zoe wasn't about to force another conversation Mal didn't want to have.
Unless she had to.
*****
Mal dragged the last of the provisions into the cargo bay and paused to catch his breath. Sector 6834 boasted a decent waystation, but he still hated to be anywhere with so many wavescreens. Not just for River's sake -- for certain most of the crew were on wanted screens somewhere with a price on their heads.
It was safer to barter for fuel on the border planets, but Jean-Paul hadn't exactly been the picture of rationality. He'd figured getting off Beaumonde in one piece was probably the wisest course, regardless of the ship being low on pesky things like fuel and provisions.
Which brought them to the 6834 waystation, which was, it didn't escape his notice, about halfway to K'uei-Hsing. From the looks Zoe was shooting his way, didn't escape hers, either. He flashed her an unspoken warning and turned to Kaylee, "We all set?"
"Yessir, Cap'n," she answered.
With a nod, Mal climbed up to the bridge, disappointed not to find River sitting in the copilot's chair. She'd taken to avoiding him, and it bothered him more than he wanted to admit that he'd managed to disappoint her.
Mal powered Serenity up and took them off the waystation, firing the engines and turning toward Osiris. Or, if someone were to be picky about it, toward K'uei-Hsing. He programmed the course heading and scanned for other ships. Finding nothing but black, he stood and stretched.
Half his crew was 'round the table, eating quietly, and Jayne was over in the lounge -- Mal squinted -- was he reading? That couldn't be right. River drifted closer to Jayne and curled up in the chair next to him, resting her chin in her hands. "Lovely fable," she commented.
"Fable?" Jayne echoed, brow furrowed. "What're you on about, girl?"
"The mother goddess kills the young god-king to save all mankind," River answered. "The young god-king is Osiris and Dionysus and Jesus."
Jayne looked aghast. "The sweet virgin Mary didn't kill her boy."
River shrugged one shoulder. "Variations on a theme."
Mal glanced at Zoe, who shrugged. "He's reading Shepherd's Bible."
Simon grimaced. "I wasn't aware he could read," he commented, cutting his protein bar into perfect squares.
"Hey!" Jayne shouted, glaring in their direction. "I read good."
Wincing, Simon muttered, "Intimately familiar with grammar, too."
"What'd you say about my grandmama?" Jayne thundered, pushing himself to his feet.
River tugged at his sleeve and urged him to sit. "Read me your favorite story from Shepherd's book."
"Ain't stories," Jayne told her eventually, still glowering in Simon's direction as he dropped back into his seat. "My favorite?" he echoed, looking a bit flustered as he paged through the good Book.
Mal felt a twinge watching the scene unfold, an ache that he didn't want to contemplate, so he turned away. "Little Kaylee, what'd you whip up for us menfolk to eat?"
Kaylee rolled her eyes at him. "Zoe fried some rice and Simon warmed the protein bars."
Sliding into his customary seat, Mal reached for the platter of rice. "Yum."
"Hey. I added spices tonight," Zoe told him, her tone almost playful.
It'd been quite a while since he'd heard levity from her, and Mal grinned in response. "Spices, huh?"
Inara slid a teapot in his direction, and he accepted with a nod of thanks. "How's Leung?" he asked, pitching his voice low. Last thing he needed was another round of Let's Attack the Alliance from River.
Simon glanced over at his sister before answering. "Fine. Asleep right now. He's still showing signs of psychosis, but physically he's stabilizing."
Mal nodded, chewing a tasteless hunk of protein. "Doc, I need you to think back to when your sister left for the Academy and tell me everything you remember. Everything about the school, everything about the adwaves -- every last thing you can remember."
Zoe stilled beside him. "Sir?"
"Just getting the facts," he answered. "Don't go getting any excitable ideas," he added for Kaylee's sake. "Simon?"
The good doctor was still staring at him, mouth ajar. He gathered himself, primly placing his fork down on the edge of his dented metal plate. "The Academy," he said, nodding slowly. "Just -- Give me a second."
"Fair enough," Mal said. "Kaylee, you gonna eat that orange slice."
Kaylee all but folded herself in half to shelter her coveted fruit from his lecherous gaze. "Yes, I am," she answered, then popped the slice into her mouth. "Mmmmmm..." she moaned in a near obscene fashion.
Across the table, Inara laughed. "Try not to distract Simon."
Kaylee's eyes flicked over to the doctor, who was watching her with more than a bit of lust in his gaze. 'Least they could do was keep from gettin' all moon-eyed at the dinner table. To Mal's surprise, Kaylee looked flustered, her cheeks flushing as she turned her gaze down to the near empty plate before her. Guess she and the good doctor were still quarrelin'.
Damn shipboard romances. Irritably, Mal tapped his fork against his protein bar. "Doc?"
"Yes," Simon answered, bit flustered. "Well, my parents collected several adwaves for schools for River. I'd already graduated Osiris Prep, and they'd intended to send River there as well, but she tested off the charts. I mean literally off the charts -- perfect scores on written examinations, and her brainwave and skills tests were unprecedented. Immeasurable with the standard equipment."
Mal idly wondered whether speaking in low tones did a thing to keep their conversation from River. He checked, but she was still watching Jayne as he read haltingly from the Bible. Sight Mal never imagined he'd see.
"The Academy sent a direct wave to our house, from their Director of Admissions. She said she'd learned of River's results and wanted to give River the opportunity to attend a new kind of Academy."
Kaylee muttered something under her breath and stabbed at her rice.
Simon shook his head. "I didn't want my sister to go so far away, but she was so excited by the opportunity, and my parents were adamant. Eventually I said my goodbyes and..." Simon looked pained, "I turned my attention to my own studies. I only started researching the Academy once her messages started to make me suspicious."
Mal glanced at Zoe, who dipped her chin once and took over the line of questioning. "You were there to break her out -- what were the buildings like?"
"Buildings?" Simon echoed, his eyes a bit unfocused as he conjured up his memories. "It was a large campus. Bucolic, even though it was only 75 or so kilometers from Capital City. There was one main building that housed the classrooms; it had a large courtyard in the middle, too, with desks and wavescreens for outdoor classes. I think there were three, maybe four small dormitory buildings, plus a faculty facility around back. The buildings were clustered together, and there were acres and acres of land surrounding the Academy. And then," he added, his mouth tightening, "the walls. Double walls, guarded from the inside, supposedly to keep the students safe from intruders."
Mal and Zoe exchanged looks. Basics didn't sound too different from their P.O.W. camp. They had guards to keep out intruders, too, whenever the higher ups stopped by. Guards who passed their shifts beating and harassing the prisoners. Zoe and Mal had spent hours contemplating various escape plans -- routes, makeshift weapons, safehouses on the outside -- but they were unceremoniously dumped planetside before they ever hatched a plan with any shot of working. "Anything else you can remember might be useful?" Mal pressed.
Simon turned a suspicious gaze his way. "Useful how? You're not actually planning--"
"Ain't planning anything," Mal cut in. "Just trying to figure whether Leung's telling the truth or totally untethered."
Simon looked dubious. After a moment, he shrugged. "Nothing else useful I can think of."
"This might be useful," Jayne announced, standing suddenly at the end of the table, expression grim. River stood beside him, her arms wrapped around her midsection, her expression inscrutable.
"What might be useful?" Mal asked.
Jayne tapped a small card against his palm, then tossed it onto the table in front of Mal. Shepherd Book's unsmiling face stared up at them from an ident card. "If I recollect," Jayne said, "that card opened some doors wouldn't have opened for any one of us here."
The crew 'round the table stared at the card in silence. Mal remembered the way those hostile Alliance soldiers' backs straightened, the way they hustled Book off for proper care after a simple look at this very ident card. "Where did you--?"
"Book," Jayne answered, holding the Shepherd's Bible closer to his chest. "Was tucked in the pages."
Mal had half a mind to ask which pages, which psalm, which story. Because Book had a way about him, a certain manner of getting his message across regardless of whether anyone wanted to hear it. Wouldn't surprise Mal to learn the good Shepherd had sent them some kind of message from the grave.
River looked up, locking gazes with him. "Psalm 72:4," she answered his unspoken question.
He will defend the afflicted among the people
and save the children of the needy;
he will crush the oppressor.
Huh.
*****
Kaylee nested down for the night in her hammock beside Serenity's heart, the engine room door closed tight and locked so only Mal could get in without her entering the code. Simon always asked how she could sleep comfortable in a hammock, explaining that it couldn't possibly support her back properly. Well, Simon always used to ask, back when they were speaking.
They weren't not speaking. Not exactly. It was just that Kaylee couldn't come up with anything worthwhile to say to him. Just looking at him made her feel guilty for agreeing to guard Serenity from River.
At least havin' to spend nights in with Serenity gave her an easy excuse for not bedding with Simon. Not that he'd asked, of course. She tried to remind herself that he was painful shy about sex, and that he had a few more important things going on right now, but it didn't work. His disinterest hurt. That plus the way he stuttered 'round her the way he did before they'd had sex -- well, it was easier not to see him much, even if not seeing him made her heart ache.
The door lock released and Kaylee jerked upright, half-expecting River to be standing in the doorframe with that pretty, vacant smile.
It was Mal instead. "Evenin'."
"Hey, Cap'n," Kaylee greeted, swinging her legs over the side of her hammock and reaching for her boots. "Something wrong?"
"Nope. How's my girl?" Mal wandered closer to the glowing heart of Serenity, running a gentle hand 'long her casing. "Any more troubles?"
"She's been fine," Kaylee answered. "Better than." Mal nodded, but didn't say anything further. Kaylee struggled for a moment to put her jumbled thoughts into words. "River ain't a spy, I don't think."
Mal regarded her with a skeptical expression. "You sure about that, little Kaylee?"
"Asked Serenity three times," she answered, jumping down from her hammock, her boots ringing against the grated floor loud as gunshots. She glanced guiltily down the hall, hoping she hadn't woken anyone on the darkened ship.
"I meant," Cap'n explained, his expression grim, "River might not have done it on purpose."
"Huh?" Kaylee scrunched up her nose. "I thought you thought she was a spy might've tossed scrap metal into Serenity's compressor on purpose."
"Didn't think she was a spy," Mal clarified, "thought she might be. And you don't take my meaning. River may not be acting of her own free will. She didn't kill those men at the Maidenhead on purpose, in the strictest sense."
Kaylee frowned, considering the Cap'n's point. He weren't wrong. She touched a hand to Serenity's heart, let her heat warm away Kaylee's sudden chill. She hadn't even thought of that. But on Niska's space station and again with the Reavers, when River took to killin', she seemed... different. Far away, somehow. Maybe she really wasn't River when she was fighting. "I don't know," she admitted in a near whisper.
Mal nodded, turning his attention back to Serenity's engine. "Are you comfortable with Leung?"
"Leung?" Kaylee echoed, confused. She'd never so much as interacted with the poor man; closest she'd come was listening to his broken explanations from the doorway of the medbay. "Ain't scared of him if that's what you're asking."
"Zoe and I have an appointment tomorrow, and we may take Jayne for muscle. Won't, though, unless you're comfortable keeping charge of the others while we're gone."
Kaylee felt a sharp stab of sadness. It should be Wash staying back and keeping charge of Serenity, not a scared mechanic couldn't shoot a gun proper.
"Appointment?" asked a voice from the doorway. Mal and Kaylee turned to find Inara watching them. "On K'uei-Hsing?" She raised an eyebrow at the Cap'n.
"Yes. Appointment," Mal answered, crossing his arms. "What's it to you?"
Inara lifted her chin. "I have a suggestion for getting the information you need on the new Academy."
Kaylee turned wide eyes to Mal, who spluttered for a moment, an incredulous look on his face. "Information on the Academy?" he echoed.
"You're not a mystery, Mal," Inara informed him, stepping down into the engine room. "The thought of a hundred girls being tortured the way that River was tortured has been eating at you for weeks. I'm only mildly surprised it took you this long to make up your mind to destroy the Academy before it opens." She paused, and gave him a smug look. "That is the plan, right?"
"You're crazy," Mal told her, but even Kaylee could tell he weren't bein' truthful.
"Cap'n," Kaylee said, feeling proud and exhilarated and scared all at the same time. "We're going to bring it down?"
"No," Mal answered, glowering now. "We're not doing anything. Zoe and Jayne and I--"
"Mal," Inara interrupted, her tone cold and sharp as diamonds. "Stop. I can get you the information quickly, and not word-of-mouth accounts from underpaid, disgruntled Alliance soldiers. Accurate information, from the Alliance itself."
"You can?" Kaylee asked, impressed. She was still pretty new to the more violent parts of thievin', but she knew already that accurate information helped keep people safe. "Shiny."
"No, not shiny," Mal protested, pointing at Kaylee, then Inara. "And not happening."
Inara lifted her chin in defiance. "An occasional client of mine works on K'uei-Hsing. He's an upper administrator in the Education Ministry. I've already waved him for an appointment."
"You what?" Mal exploded.
"He thinks I want a letter of introduction for potential clients out toward the border planets," Inara continued evenly, ignoring Mal's mounting irritation. "I need two things from you."
"Well, please," Mal answered sarcastically, "do tell."
Kaylee elbowed him. "Be nice."
"Thank you," Inara told Kaylee, favoring her with a small smile. Then she turned to Mal. "I need you to call in some sort of distraction once I'm inside his quarters, and I need Shepherd Book's ident card."
"Absolutely not," Mal answered.
Kaylee's eyebrows lifted. "Oh," she said, understanding what Inara was proposing. "You're going to use Book's card to access your client's system--"
"And infochip what we need, yes," Inara confirmed, "which would make any plans to destroy the school a lot less risky in turn."
Mal was shaking his head, pacing in short little bursts beside the engine. "We don't know anything about Book's ident card. There must be layers of security--"
"Shepherd Book was more than a simple Shepherd, Mal," Inara countered. "I don't know exactly what his ident card says about him, but you saw how the Alliance reacted to it. No effort was spared to save his life. Do you really think his ident card wouldn't allow me access to the Alliance's plans if used on their own network?"
"Awful lot of assumptions there, Inara," Mal snapped. "Maybe you'd best leave the planning to us career criminal types."
"And just what is your plan, Mal?" Inara demanded, stepping forward in her anger until they were toe to toe, glaring at each other. "Ask twenty or thirty of your closest friends if they've heard anything about a secret Alliance Academy for gifted children? How many of the people you're planning to ask would sell you out for a few credits? All of them, or is there maybe one in there you can actually trust?"
Kaylee shrank back against Serenity's beating heart, hating conflict as always. They were both making good arguments, only she wished they could just talk civil-like. She watched them argue, her gaze shifting back and forth, her opinion on Inara's and Mal's respective plans changing with every point made.
"I don't trust anyone," Mal answered. "And I plan to get information from purplebelly turncoats. Believe me, there are enough of them."
"Are you so sure you won't run into a double agent?"
"Are you so sure Book's ident card isn't flagged in the Alliance system?"
"Why would it be?" Inara answered, her tone subdued. "We buried him ourselves. The Alliance likely doesn't know he's dead." Her voice caught, and she ducked her head.
Mal turned away, his breathing ragged in the sudden quiet.
"Cap'n?" Kaylee asked when the silence started to feel uncomfortable. The Cap'n looked to Kaylee, but didn't speak. She decided to take that as an invitation to voice her opinion on the subject. "I'm no expert on this type thing," Kaylee ventured, "but Inara's plan sounds less..." Kaylee shrugged, "risky."
"But it's risking her," Mal shot back, his tone haggard. He looked to Inara; they stared at each other so long and so intense that Kaylee thought maybe she should leave 'em alone.
"Mal," Inara said finally, "I worry just as much about you when you put yourself in danger--"
"I don't willfully put myself in danger, is the difference," Mal interrupted, his jaw tight with anger and fear.
Kaylee snorted, then regretted it when the Cap'n turned an irritable glare her way. "You made all of us stay back while you went by yourself to broadcast the Miranda wave," Kaylee reminded him.
Mal's eyes nearly bugged right out of his face. "I left you with a shipful of Reavers!"
"And a door that was s'posed to hold them off," Kaylee shot back.
"You have no idea the hell I was in on that elevator, dreading the door opening 'cause I knew I would find you all torn to pieces--" He stopped, turned away, his jaw clenched.
Inara touched his arm. "Mal--"
"Tāmāde!" Mal shrugged her off and turned toward the door. "I can't have this argument right now."
"I can do this," Inara said, moving to block his exit.
"I don't doubt your ability," Mal admitted. "But this is a mighty big step to be taking."
"Mal--"
"I'm serious, Inara. We're already criminals; after this, we'll be labeled traitors and terrorists. You'd be risking your reputation--" his jaw tightened-- "your livelihood."
"My livelihood," Inara repeated with a humorless little laugh. "Mal, my association with bitter Browncoats is already common knowledge. I wasn't having much luck as Companion to petty border lords before this." She paused, letting her words sink in. "I understand what I'm risking."
Kaylee stared at Mal, wondering what he would do. Inara'd said all the right things, and she was right about her plan probably bein' the best so far. But the Cap'n weren't one to see sense when it came to women riskin' themselves. 'Cept Zoe, of course, but she was a soldier in Mal's eyes.
Mal grumbled something under his breath and turned away, walking in a short circle before stopping near back where he started. He glanced at Kaylee, then sighed and turned to Inara. "Let me think on it," he said. "Get some sleep, the both of you."
With that, he loped up the stairs, down the corridor and disappeared up onto the bridge. Stunned, Kaylee looked over at Inara, who looked just as shocked.
Inara pointed in the direction Mal'd disappeared and asked, "Did he just...?"
"Sorta agree to your plan?" Kaylee said. "I think so."
*****
Mal heard the sounds of dinner -- plates clanging, Kaylee laughing, Jayne complaining he didn't have enough food -- but stayed up on the bridge by himself. The Kuei-Hsing docks weren't lit up much at night; the familiar starscape was almost enough to lull him into believing they were safe out in the black, 'stead of parked planetside contemplating an attack could get 'em all killed or pinched.
Still hadn't come to a final decision about the Academy.
In truth, he wanted to take out every last one of them purple bastards, but, hell, a whole army hadn't been enough to overthrow the Alliance. Tried to deny it, but Mal still burned with bitterness and anger and regret 'bout the failure of the Independents. He'd carved out a good life along the edges -- surrounded himself with good people, and did jobs that sometimes had the happy side effect of tweaking the Alliance.
'Fore Miranda, he thought he could be happy living out his life this way. But Miranda woke up all that anger, all that righteous indignation he'd thought a year in the P.O.W. prison camp had starved and beaten out of him. Any government that would gas its own people with a tranquilizing drug then turn tail and let the marauding killers they'd created roam unchecked deserved to be overthrown.
Turned out to be a yūchŭn notion, but Mal had thought exposing the Alliance for what it was would've sparked something among his fellow Browncoats and sympathizers. Mayhap it had, but Mal hadn't heard much, just some coordinated protests on the central planets and one mealy-mouthed apology from the Alliance. Millions dead by their hand, and all they could muster was one gorram apology.
And then -- nothing.
Thirty million people on Miranda and Wash and Book and Mr. Universe and even Patience, all dead, and for what? A small wave of outrage too soon forgot.
Mal took that worse than Miranda, truth be told. He expected corruption and thoughtless evil from the Alliance, but he'd expected more from the rest of the 'verse. Zoe had called him an idealist during the war. Āi bīng bì shèng, he used to tell her. Didn't think of it as idealism, though -- he used to think that God was on their side.
Didn't have God anymore, and Mal thought he was cynical as hell these days, but Zoe had always been the person could rein him in when he got too excitable over something. Zoe, now, had lost the most important person in her life, and Mal suspected that nowadays she burned with the same kind of unquenchable anger as he did.
Weren't that he didn't think this particular mission was worth the risk. Every day he saw the aftermath of those torture academies walking barefoot 'round his ship, eyes troubled. He knew all of 'em on board would die to save River's kind from torture, even Jayne.
But what would become of his crew if the Kuei-Hsing plan led to another, and another, until all Mal did was plot against the Alliance? Asymmetrical warfare. Seven against millions -- unlikely they'd get very far, and martyrdom had never been his aim. He was willing to die for what's right, for fairness and justice and all that, but he'd much rather be around to enjoy it when it came.
So question was, could Mal be satisfied knocking over a school meant to torture little girls, or would that just be the beginning?
"Hey, Mal," Jayne said, his boots thumping on the stairs as he stepped up onto the bridge. "Kaylee saved you some grub, but I ain't above wrasslin' her for it if you ain't eatin'."
Mal turned the pilot's chair partway around. Jayne was leaning against the weapons cabinet, arms crossed, a mean-looking hunting knife lashed to his thigh.
"You expecting a woolly mammoth?" Mal asked, gesturing at the knife.
Jayne grimaced. "Leung ain't right in the head."
"You think he's going to attack us?"
"Maybe, maybe not," Jayne answered. "But I didn't expect Little Sister to take out a barful o' thugs, so I figure I oughtta be prepared long as there are moonbrains on board."
Mal considered correcting his use of the pejorative. But Jayne was Jayne, and sometimes it was easier to let him be. "You think he's wrong about the Academy?" Mal asked. One good thing about Jayne, he rarely bothered to lie.
"Naw," Jayne answered, pulling an unwrapped piece of protein from his pants pocket and gnawing off the corner. "Nobody should torture kids."
"Just kids?"
Jayne grinned. "Men what are responsible for their own actions," he answered with a half-shrug, "sometimes they deserve a little torture. Teach 'em a lesson."
Mal couldn't help but shake his head. "Right." He tapped one hand against the console. "You think we should bring Leung along?"
Jayne grimaced. "Moonbrain ain't like to be much help. Still, rather have him close than leave him here with Kaylee," he reasoned, "case he goes juānhuàile while we're gone."
Hell of a point. Mal was a mite disturbed he hadn't thought of that his own self. What else had he missed? "And if we bring him along, what do we do with him?"
Jayne chewed his protein square thoughtfully. "Prob'ly leave him with Little Sister."
"Leave him with the shuttle?" Mal clarified, considering. Inara and Simon weren't much in the way of fighters, but they'd have guns and they'd have River with them. Probably a better solution than bringing Leung into the compound.
" Seems Leung wants to do right," Jayne answered. "But his brain's been rewired wrong. River'll take care of him if he gets out of hand."
Mal didn't want to contemplate the possibilities.
Jayne pushed himself away from the cabinet. "You eatin' or what?"
"Yeah," Mal answered, rising to his feet. "I'm eating."
"Damn," Jayne muttered, turning and stomping his way down the stairs. "Really wanted that fruit."
Mal followed him down into the dining area, realizing he'd made his decision during their conversation.
River was right -- war wasn't over. Odds weren't in their favor, but they might could win this particular battle.
*****
Inara docked her shuttle with hands that were still trembling.
The flight from her client's lush home to the derelict docks on the dark side of K'uei-Hsing where Serenity waited was relatively short, less than an hour. Her covert mission had gone as well as possible -- her radiowave to Mal hadn't been a lie. But for some reason, she had a knot in her stomach and a nervous tremor that would not be easily soothed.
As soon as the air lock was properly connected, her shuttle door burst open and Mal stumbled in, his gaze sweeping her form in search of injuries. "Inara?"
"I'm fine, Mal," she snapped, pushing herself out of the pilot's seat with an annoyed flip of her silken wrap. Chin held high, she swept toward him, not allowing herself to dwell on his obvious concern, and especially not paying any attention to the way he was drinking her in. Instead, she pulled the small infochip from the leather rope around her neck and held it out toward Mal.
"Any trouble?" he pressed, accepting the chip and folding it securely in his palm, all without taking his eyes off of her. "Anything at all out of the ordinary?"
"It wasn't that kind of appointment," Inara answered briskly. Her irritation with him was doing wonders for her composure. She wasn't quite sure why she was suddenly so frustrated by his concern, but it wasn't a subject that needed serious reflection just now. She folded her arms beneath her breasts and raised an eyebrow. "Shouldn't you be off analyzing that information?"
"In a minute," he answered, starting to look a mite irritated himself "He didn't watch you suspiciously or say anything even slightly unusual? There were no cameras in his office--?"
"We weren't in his office," Inara interrupted sweetly, knowing the implication would slither its way under Mal's skin. "And it wouldn't surprise me if he did have cameras set up, but why would he check up on me?"
Mal looked aghast. "Inara."
"When he went to attend to your manufactured emergency, I asked permission to use his terminal, telling him I was awaiting an important wave related to the job. Remember?" she prodded. "My cover story?"
"And he left you alone?" He sounded incredulous.
"Not everyone is as mistrustful as you," Inara answered, her tone haughty. She wasn't angry with him, not really, and she tried to modify her tone and explain what had happened. "If he watches surveillance footage, he'll only see me use my ident card to logon and look through some files. I was very careful to conceal the infochip while I loaded the information."
Mal's face was pale and he looked like he was regretting letting her embark on her mission of espionage. "Inara." He shook his head.
"I'm not in the mood for a lecture," she warned, scaling back the hostility. He didn't deserve to be yelled at when he'd done nothing wrong -- it was his nature to worry, and he'd barely brought himself to agree to her plan. That he hadn't forbidden it at the last moment was a large concession on his part, and the last thing she should do was punish him for her own insecurities.
He swallowed, glanced down at the chip in his hand, then met her gaze once more. "Thank you," he said, dipping his chin once. Then he turned and left her alone in her shuttle.
She felt a strange combination of disappointment and relief, and moved to her tea set, quelling the bizarre urge to run after him and ask him to stay. Maybe a third cup of tea would help calm her nerves. Carefully, she heated the water and chose a soothing combination of herbs. As she poured the steaming water into her teacup, she realized her hands were shaking once more.
Her reaction was silly -- nothing had happened. She'd raised not even the slightest suspicion in Heilbronner. She knew that. But she still felt slightly panicked, as if the other shoe were teetering precariously above her head.
"There are no shoes," River announced, startling Inara into dropping her delicate teacup. It crashed into the floor and shattered as Inara whirled around to find River standing a good distance inside the shuttle.
"River," Inara said, hand pressed to her chest. "I didn't hear you come in."
"I'm sorry," River apologized, inching back towards the shuttle door.
"Please stay," Inara said, holding one hand out toward River. Inara took a slow, deep breath and tried to smile.
River nodded and moved closer, kneeling on the floor. "Let me," she said, her small hands capturing shards of glass and placing them on the edge of Inara's tea tray. "I'm sorry," she apologized again.
"I shouldn't have been so startled," Inara answered, pulling a rag from the cupboard and joining River on the floor. She mopped up the tea, feeling the rag warm beneath her fingers as the liquid soaked in.
"There are no shoes," River said again, her focus seemingly fixed on picking every last piece of shattered china from the floor. "No one suspects you. No one watched the video of you on his terminal. No one checked for an infochip imprint. You did well."
Inara knelt, unmoving, and stared at River. "How can you be sure."
River glanced up, one long ringlet falling forward to bisect her cheek, and smiled. "I'm sure."
Somehow, River's mysterious declaration calmed her in a way the tea couldn't. She nodded. "Thank you."
"Mal worries," River continued, holding a small piece of the teacup and tracing the sharp edges with one finger. "He worries that you will die like Wash and he will be Zoe."
Inara's breath caught, and she couldn't seem to find the words to reply.
"Simon worries that I will disappear." River pressed the pad of her finger against the sharp tip of shattered china. "He worries that Kaylee will get impatient and leave him." She very carefully placed the shard with the rest and met Inara's gaze. "Simon shouldn't be stuck with a crazy fugitive sister."
Inara settled more comfortably on the floor and placed a hand on River's knee. "Your brother loves you, and he wants to make sure you stay safe."
"I am safe." River smiled down at her hands. "Mal keeps me safe, too. Simon should be helping people. He should be a real doctor again and not stuck out here with me."
"Simon is happy here," Inara countered. "Happy to be somewhere where you are safe and well, and happy to be with Kaylee."
River's smile faded. "He should be with Kaylee. But Simon won't listen to me when I talk. Anything he doesn't understand he thinks is torturetalk." Inara opened her mouth, then closed it again, but River's sly smile seemed to acknowledge the question Inara couldn't seem to ask. "Torturetalk," the girl repeated. "River talking crazy because her brain was cut up." River leaned closer and lowered her voice to a conspiratorial tone. "He hates it when I refer to myself in the third person."
"He worries," Inara answers.
"I worry about him." River sat there on the floor of Inara's shuttle, her hands clasped in her lap, and Inara could see the little girl she'd been. Before.
River nodded. "Before," she said, meeting Inara's gaze with eyes far too careworn for a girl her age. "I miss before."
Inara thought about Wash, about Shepherd Book, about the hell Mal had been through, even just since she'd known him, and found she agreed with River. "I miss before, too," Inara admitted. She let their commiseration linger in silence for a long moment, then reached up and tucked River's hair behind her ear. "Come," she said, shifting to the balls of her feet and pushing herself upright. "Let me make you some tea."
*****
Firefly fic