BLUE SUN ROOM FAN FICTION - GENERAL

BADKARMA00

ARCHANGEL -- Chapters 1-3
Sunday, January 13, 2008

Jayne's got a secret, and he's willing to leave to keep it.


CATEGORY: FICTION    TIMES READ: 2376    RATING: 9    SERIES: FIREFLY

Archangel – Chapter One I own no rights to Firefly, and no copyright infringement is intended ------------------ The Rim – 2503 The Alliance Naval Cruiser Heracles approached the derelict ship warily. The distress beacon was still active, but all attempts to establish contact with the ship had failed. “This is great,” one soldier muttered, watching the derelict grow larger on the circuit screen. “Just great.” “Stop muttering, T.J.,” Corporal Dave Neggins growled. “Ain’t nobody else happy ‘bout it either.” “Damn it, Dave,” PFC T.J. Dell hissed. “You know as well as I do what happened to that ship. Ain’t a soul left alive on ‘er by now. Least. . .not no human.” “Talk like that’ll get you court martialed,” Neggins warned, looking to see who might have overheard. “Least of our worries right now,” Dell muttered, but fell silent at the warning glance from Dell. “What worries?” Both men jumped at the voice. It was the voice of the most feared, and most loved, person on the ship. They spun to face their Battalion Sergeant Major. “What are you two gossipin’ about,” the Sergeant Major growled, cigar rolling from one side of her mouth to the other. “Nothing, Sar’major,” Neggins replied for both of them. “Just looking over the drifter is all.” “Looks rough,” Sergeant Major Janine Cobb nodded. “Reckon we’ll go on over and take a look see.” “Why not just blast it, and move on?” Dell asked, earning him another withering glare from Neggins, which he ignored. “T.J., you know damn well we ain’t gonna just blast a civilian ship ‘thout seeing if anyone’s aboard her,” Cobb shook her head in exasperation. “I tell you, the material they give me to work with these days. . .” “Officer’s call, Sar’major,” a buck sergeant wearing the shoulder braids of an orderly called. “Colonel Hill wants you there, as well.” “On the way,” Cobb nodded. “You two, settle down,” she turned for a final look at Neggins and Dell. “Get it together. Ain’t nothing to be spooked over.” “What if they’re still there?” Dell asked before he thought. Cobb smiled. “They won’t be, T.J.,” she told him confidently. “They don’t hang around.” Both men watched her leave, stunned at what they’d heard. Had she just acknowledged. . .them?” ------------------ “Captain Trask will detail a platoon to shuttle over and check the ship for survivors,” Lt. Colonel Hill told the assembled officer and non-coms of the 10th Deep Space Battalion. “Any questions?” “Sir, if I may?” SGM Cobb spoke. “I’d suggest two platoons, sir. Have one working each way. Be quicker. And, if there’s any . . . thing, wrong, there’ll be more troops on hand to deal.” Hill looked at his SGM for a long minute. Finally he sighed. “I suppose you want to go as well?” he almost grinned. “Thank you, sir!” Cobb grinned. “I’d love to!” The others in the room chuckled at that. It was well known that she liked to be where the action was. “Very well, then. Let’s get this operation moving.” ------------------- “Hull’s been breached in several places,” the shuttle pilot noted, looking at the ship under the powerful lights on his wings and undercarriage. “Integrity is gone, pretty much, Sarge.” “Right,” she nodded, and turned. “Look alive, people. We’ll be in vacuum. Ready your gear.” All of them were dressed in EVA gear, the lightweight suits used by boarding parties rather than the heavier stuff used by mechs. The shuttle found the landing bay of the large derelict, and the pilot eased his way inside. “Ta mah de,” the co-pilot gasped, seeing several bodies floating in the zero gravity. “Mind on your business,” the pilot growled. He was shaken too, but didn’t have time for reactions. That would come later. When he was on the ship. Drinking to excess. “Looks bad, Lieutenant,” SGM Cobb murmured quietly. “I’d suggest we keep to squad strength at least.” “I agree, Sar’Major,” the shavetail nodded. “And. . .I’m grateful you chose to accompany my platoon.” “You’re a good kid,” Cobb smiled. “Make a good Battalion commander some day.” The LT blushed at that. “Okay, folks,” the pilot announced. “We’re locked. Zero grav, though.” “Okay troops, de-ass the vehicle, and look alive. It’s a war-zone, so act accordingly.” The troopers all knew what that meant. Several scared glances made their way around the shuttle’s interior. “None o’ that, now,” Cobb chided gently. “We ain’t rogue settlers people, we’re the damn 10th DSB! Heart breakers and soul takers! Now let’s get the lead out! MOVE!” They moved. --------------------- The ship wasn’t exactly deserted, but everyone they’d found so far was dead. “Sar’major,” the LT spoke through her headset, “I’m about ready to say this tub’s clean. Your opinion?” “Gotta few more passages to check up here, sir, but after that, I’m in agreement. Nothing so far but bodies. Parts of ‘em, anyway.” “I know,” she could hear his fear. “I. . .I mean I knew, of course, but. . .” “Take a breath, LT,” Cobb ordered, glad the kid had used their private channel. “It’s okay to be afraid. Hell,” she laughed, humorlessly, “I’m scared shitless myself. And will be till we’re back on the Herc.” “I don’t believe a word of that,” the LT laughed in return. “There’s nothing that scares you, Sar’Major.” “You keep thinkin’ that, sonny,” she grinned. “Good for my bad-ass rep.” She no more had the words out of her mouth when the small form ran across in front of her. Before she could respond, a trooper opened fire. “There’s one!” he screamed, hosing the passage with auto-fire. “Stand down!” Cobb screamed. When the firing didn’t stop, she hit the trooper in the back of the neck with her rifle butt. “Stand down, you moron!” she yelled, and the firing stopped. “It wasn’t one o’ them, you jackass! It was a kid!” “Kid?” the trooper looked stunned. “How the hell did a. . .?” “How the hell should I know?” she demanded. “Get your ass back to the shuttle. And try not to kill any kittens on your way back, you chickenshit moron!” Crestfallen, the trooper slunk away. “Sar’major?” the LT was calling. “We’re good, sir,” she answered at once. “There’s a survivor, looks like a child. He ran in front of us, and Dell emptied his rifle at him. Probably scared the kid near to death. I’m gonna see if we can retrieve him.” “Are you sure it wasn’t. . .” “They don’t run, LT,” Cobb explained patiently. “If it had been one o’ them, he’d ‘ave attacked.” “Very well,” the LT confirmed. “Stay in touch, and be careful.” “Bet you ass on that,” Cobb muttered, not bothering to broadcast it. Moving forward, she called out. “We’re soldiers, kid! Not. . .them, okay? Ole Dell, he’s just a little shaky is all. No harm done, right? Come on out now, and let ole Vera get a look at you.” When there was no response, Cobb eased around the passageway, looking for movement. She saw the form lying on the floor, and cursed. “Medic!” she called over the com, kneeling by the small body. There was a small hole in the suit the child was wearing, and in the cold of vacuum she could see the air leaving the suit. She grabbed a patch from her emergency kit, and slapped it across the leak. Triggering the self-seal, she watched the patch heat, then shrink to conform to the suit. “Neggins, help me get him up!” she called. Between the two of them, they lifted the near weightless body, and started back to the shuttle. “LT, we got one survivor, looks to be a kid. Suit punched by gunfire. We’re on our way back to the shuttle.” “Affirmative, we’ll be ready to launch as soon as you arrive. All teams, recall, recall. Rally at the shuttle. Bust it, people, let’s move.” ------------------- “Vera, there’s a problem.” Cobb looked up to see LT Colonel Hill standing in front of her. “Didn’t make it?” she asked. The kid had turned out to be a boy, probably nine, maybe ten years old. Shot high in the chest, she was afraid he was too far gone. “No, he’s fine,” Hill surprised her. “But. . .” He trailed off, not knowing what to say. “You’d better come and see for yourself.” She looked at him, puzzled, but rose to follow. The boy lay in the infirmary, tubes running from various places. She was shocked to see him in restraints. “What the hell?” “Vera, wait,” Hill grabbed her arm, something most people on the ship would never have dared do. But it had once been Second Lieutenant Hill, and Platoon Sergeant Cobb. The two had been through a lot together. “Why is that kid chained to the bed, Art?” Cobb demanded. “Vera, he’s been bitten,” Hill told her quietly. He raised the sheet slightly, revealing an ugly, festering bite wound on the boy’s thigh. “So?” she demanded, but her heart sunk. Bitten. “Vera,” Hill said softly. “You know as well as I do, what happens to people who are bitten by. . .them.” “It hasn’t happened though,” she objected. “He’s still normal.” “For now,” he nodded. “But he won’t be, and you know it. Under the circumstances. . .” Cobb’s face contorted in anger. “Colonel, you better not be about to tell me what I think is on your mind,” she growled, her voice dangerously soft. “Because that ain’t gonna happen. Sir.” The ‘sir’ sounded like a slur. As only a hard bitten veteran Top Soldier could make it sound. “Vera, you know the protocol,” Hill’s voice was still soft, but had a harder edge to it. “There can’t be any proof allowed to exist. . .” “So we murder a child, then?” Cobb snarled. “Don’t tell me you don’t know that’s plain wrong, Arthur.” “It’s out of my hands,” Hill replied, knowing how lame it sounded. “All these years,” Cobb shook her head, “and now, you turn out like this? What the hell happened to you?” Hill’s face flushed. “That’s enough, Sergeant Major!” he barked. Cobb just looked at him. Hill’s facade faltered at that. He couldn’t do her this way. “Vera, he’s a threat,” Hill tried to keep his voice reasonable. “He’s dangerous.” “Prove it,” Cobb snapped. “Prove to me he’s a danger, and I’ll agree. Back you. If you don’t, I swear to you now, I’ll make this so ugly it’ll never be forgotten.” “Vera, are you threatening me?” Hill’s voice was incredulous. “I’m warning you,” was the calm reply. “This is wrong, and you damn well know it. You can’t seriously be considering killin’ that kid for something he had no say in, no choice about. It ain’t his fault that his folks was too stupid to obey the Rim Settlement Protocols.” “I don’t have. . .” “I don’t wanna hear that,” Cobb cut him off. “Then what do I do with him?” Hill demanded. “Give him to me,” she replied at once. Hill looked stunned. “What?” “I’ve got my thirty, and then some,” Cobb told him. “I’ll take retirement, and raise the kid. Give him a chance.” “Vera, that’s ridiculous!” Hill argued. “You’re. . .you’re a soldier for God’s sake! Not a mother!” Cobb’s icy face told Hill he’d gone too far. “Drop us on the nearest planet,” she told him. “With transit tickets home. I’ll take care of the rest.” “Word will get out,” he warned her. “People will. . .” “See that it doesn’t,” she demanded. “You owe me, Arthur. Make it happen.” ------------- The boy awakened slowly. Medics had dropped them off on the rim moon of Balak, a backwater if ever there was one. The child had been kept drugged during transit, as a precaution. Hill had made it happen. Vera Cobb didn’t know how. Or care, really. “Momma?” the boy called. Vera was at his side in seconds. They were in a small hotel room, where they would wait for the next passage off world. Probably a month, she’d been warned. “Hey, sweetie,” Vera smiled. The boy looked up at her. “Are you my momma?” he asked, confusion on his face. “Well, I can be,” Vera told him. “Do you remember anything, son? What your name is? How you got here?” The boy’s only identification had been a small tag on a necklace that had bore the name ‘Michael’. “Mikey,” he said at once. “I’m Mikey. I was on a ship, but something. . .” He halted as his memory came back, and he started screaming. Vera grabbed him, hugging him to her. He fought at first, but gradually calmed down. “They. . .they killed everyone,” he sobbed finally. “I hid. Daddy told me to hide, and I did. But one found me. I kicked him, but he bit me. I kicked him again, and got into the ducts. He tried to follow me, but he was too big. He screamed and screamed. . .” “I know, baby, I know,” Vera shushed him, rocking him back and forth. “It’s all over now. I promise. You’re safe with me, now. Safe with momma.” -------------------

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Archangel – Chapter Two Author owns no rights to Firefly, and no copyright infringement is intended. -------------- “Miss Cobb, I’m sorry, but. . .this is the third incident in the last month,” the school superintendent shook his head. “This incident was the worst. The child he attacked is still in the emergency ward.” “I understand,” Vera nodded. “He’s had a rough time of it. He hasn’t always adjusted well.” “We simply cannot allow him to continue attending here, Miss Cobb,” the superintendent told her. “I’m sorry, truly I am. He’s a very bright boy, with excellent marks. But. . .” “I understand,” Vera said again, hiding her disappointment. “Thank you for calling me. I’ll take him home, now.” “I’m sorry, momma,” Mikey said quietly as they exited the school. “I didn’t mean to. He. . .he just kept making fun of me, and it made me so mad, and finally it was like something just broke, inside.” He looked up at her. “I don’t remember doin’ it, momma, but the teacher said I did. She called me a lunatic. What is that, momma?” “Nothing, baby,” Vera soothed. “She was just talking about something else, that’s all.” “I can’t go back, can I?” he asked, tears in his eyes. “I don’t want you to go back,” she told him, meaning it. “I can teach you all you need to know at home. And that will leave you more time to hunt and track, and learn from ole Crowfeather.” Mikey brightened at that. “That’d be swell!” Vera smiled. “I thought you’d like that.” --------------------- Vera answered the door in her apron. After two years out of the military, she was almost a home maker. Her pension was enough that they lived fairly comfortably on what had been her family’s farm. “Can I help you?” she asked that tall man at the door. “Are you Janine Cobb?” the man asked politely. “Sergeant Major Cobb?” “Just Cobb, now,” she smiled, but was instantly on guard. “My name is Book, Miss Cobb. Derrial Book.” The man offered his hand, and she took it, still wary. “I’d like to talk to you about your son.” “Why?” she demanded. “I’m a friend, Miss Cobb, I promise you,” he smiled. “Your son is. . .very unique, I know. I’d like to offer you a learning opportunity for him.” “He’s learning fine, where he is,” Vera replied. “Thanks anyway.” “Miss Cobb, please,” the man was patient, she’d give him that. “I know you’re cautious, and that’s understandable. But if you’ll give me a few minutes, I think you’ll see that I’m trying to help.” “Five minutes,” Vera told him, walking out onto the porch. “Then I’m throwing you off my land, I don’t like what I hear.” He smiled. “First off, I will tell you, honestly, that I am an agent of the Alliance, but,” he held up his hands, “I am not here in that capacity. I am here as a member of an ancient order, Miss Cobb. One you’ve never heard of.” “Your son needs training, ma’am,” Book told her bluntly. “He needs to learn to deal with his inner turmoil. My order can train him to do that. To harness the anger, the rage, that runs through him unchecked right now. Help him to fit into society. And,” he added, “they can prepare him to be of great service to his fellow man.” “How?” she snorted. “By doing the Alliance’s dirty work? Not my son.” “As I told you,” Book smiled, “I’m not here on behalf of the Alliance. There are bigger and more important things, Miss Cobb, than the Alliance.” “I’m listening,” Vera said. Thirty minutes later, she was still listening. -------------------- “Momma, I don’t want to go!” Mikey said for the fourth time. “I wanna stay here, with you!” “I know you do, sweetheart,” Vera smiled down at him. “But this is a different kind of school. One where special children like you go. You’ll learn how to do a great many things. Things you couldn’t learn in school here, or even from Old Crow.” “Like what?” Mikey asked. “Well, you’ll learn about history, for one thing. About great people who have used their talents and abilities to help others. And you’ll learn how to fight, too. Not just brawl, like you do now, but really fight. And, the training will make you big and strong!” “Like you?” Mikey asked. She looked down at him, smiling. “Oh, honey, you’ll be so much stronger than me,” she hugged him. “You’ll be tall and strong, and all the girls will ooh and ahh over you. I’ll be so proud.” “Want you to be proud, momma,” Mikey smiled up at her, and for an instant, Vera faltered. She wouldn’t do it. No. He would stay with her. Then Book’s warning had come back to her. “War is coming, Sergeant Major,” Book had said quietly. “And no one can stop it. Things are too far gone for that, I’m afraid. And when that happens, someone with your experience will be sought after by both sides.” “This planet will likely be a battleground, it’s loyalties divided. We can take him away from all that, Vera. We can keep him safe, and teach him everything he needs to know to master himself. He isn’t alone, you know. Others suffer the same problems as he does, though perhaps not from the same source.” War. She shuddered at the thought. No, Mikey would be safer away. “I’ll be very proud, baby,” Vera smiled. “I’ll always be proud of you.” ------------------ Mikey was taken to a monastery far into the countryside. All the people were very nice, he thought. At least those who weren’t instructors, he amended. The instructors weren’t exactly not nice, but they were tough. Very tough, and very demanding. Here, he was known as Michael. Just that. Michael. He knew there were others in the ‘school’, though he rarely encountered them. He did wonder why he was so often sent for ‘check-ups’. Until one day, he happened to overhear two of the ‘doctor brothers’ talking in hushed tones. “So, the virus is present?” one asked. “Yes,” the other nodded. “He has the gene, as well,” he added, showing a readout to the first. “He is doubly cursed, poor boy.” “Then we will make doubly sure of his training,” the first assured him. “He is a very bright young man. He has great potential. Perhaps the greatest yet, once trained.” Michael didn’t know what potential meant, but it sounded okay. It hadn’t been said in a bad way, at least. --------------- Over the next few years, Michael found himself immersed in deep training. Sometimes it consisted of simply sitting in complete stillness, senses aware of every smell, every sound around him. Other times, he was pushed to the limit of his endurance, his body being molded for whatever was to come. And then, there was the sword. The brothers had been delighted when they discovered that Michael was ambidextrous. He was placed with a swordmaster who was also adept at using both hands equally, and Michael’s training began in earnest. He had learned to use many different types of weapons. Firearms had not been much of challenge for him. Between Vera and Crow, he had learned most all one could know about the care and use of firearms. Here he learned gun smithing as well, which he enjoyed. He realized that he could do most anything he wanted to a firearm with that knowledge. He learned to use the knife, as well. To cut, slash, parry, even throw almost any edged weapon, regardless of size. But always they focused on the sword. Finally, he asked why. “A sword will never jam,” his sword master told him. “It will never run out of ammunition. It will never fail to fire. And,” he added in a lower voice, “there are some enemies that the sword is better against than the gun.” Satisfied with that, Michael devoted himself to the sword. --------------------- Michael looked at the letter, refusing to believe it. “I’m very sorry, Michael,” Brother Thomas told him softly. “She. . .she was a very good woman.” “I. . .she can’t. . .” Tears streamed down the boys face, as words failed him. At sixteen, he was huge for his age, and his physical training had made him lean and hard. Muscles bulged as tension ebbed and flowed through his body. “We can arrange for you to visit the. . .” The brother broke off as Michael turned away. He began to stuff things into a backpack. “What are you doing?” the brother asked. “I’m leaving,” Michael said, over his shoulder. “I’m through.” “You are not ready for that,” the brother cautioned. “Your training is. . .” “Finished,” the boy said, turning to face the brother. “I’m finished. I sat here, breathing and doing all your God stuff, and now my mom’s gone. I’ll never see her again. I’m through.” He started for the door. “Michael, please,” the brother tried again. “You need to finish your training. To leave as you are now, invites only trouble.” “As opposed to what I’ve got?” the boy snorted. “I’m all alone, again, Brother Thomas. As alone as I was the day she found me.” “Your being here is not the reason for her death, my son.” “Isn’t it?” Michael shot back. “If I had stayed, she wouldn’t have enlisted. She’d still been at home, being my mom.” “It was her wish that you be here, during that time, Michael,” Thomas pointed out. “Her wish that you receive the training we can offer.” “That may be, Brother Thomas,” Michael nodded. “It doesn’t change the facts.” Thomas watched him slip out of the door, and into the darkness of the night, his heart heavy. He walked slowly to his office, where a terminal sat. He entered a code, and was soon talking to a familiar face. “He is gone,” Thomas said quietly. “He took the news hard.” “I feared as much,” the man nodded. “I am sorry, Thomas. I cannot deal with it at the moment. Perhaps I can find him, soon.” “I do not believe that you can,” Thomas shook his head. “He will disappear as if he never was. We have lost a strong warrior in him, my old friend.” “God often shines the light when the hour is darkest, brother,” the man reminded him. “We’ll see Michael again, when he’s needed.” The connection was broken, and Thomas looked out his window, into the dark. “I pray you are right,” he murmured. “I pray it be so.” ------------------- The docks were busy. The boy walked along the strip, eyeing the ships in port. The hands glanced at him as he walked by, some smirking, some nodding. Many had been like him at one time. Another gangling farm boy, tired of choking on dust behind a plow, or wading through cow manure all day. From that perspective, life in the black looked like shiny wrapped in pretty. He stopped, suddenly, at the open cargo door of a middle sized freighter. The mate was standing there, beside a sign that said the ship was looking for a crewman. He pondered a moment, then shrugged, and walked up to the man. “Need a job,” he said calmly. The first mate eyed the over large boy with care. “How old are you, boy?” he asked, though not unkindly. “Sixteen,” the kid replied. “Your folks know you’re down here?” the mate asked. “They know,” he nodded. “Got in a bit o’ trouble. Gotta be scarce.” “Kill someone?” the mate asked warily. The boy shrugged. “Made the wrong man mad, s’all,” was the only reply. “It’s hard work, son, but you look fit enough. Come on and meet the Captain.” He started through the hatch, then turned back. “What’s your name, kid?” “Cobb. Jayne Cobb.” --------------------- “We’re takin’ on passengers?” Jayne asked, as he worked to move cargo onto Serenity. “Few,” Mal nodded. He’d hired Jayne in a desperation move, to keep him and the merc’s former boss from killing Mal and Zoe. He’d kept him, over the years, because he was good with a gun. Or with a knife. Or his hands, Mal grimaced. But he never stopped complaining, and was almost constantly in an ill mood. “What for?” the merc demanded. “Cause I said so, Jayne,” Mal retorted. Jayne glared at him for a second, then shrugged. “Whatever,” he walked on, resuming his work. He placed the crate in his hands atop others, and turned back. Coming face to face, nearly, with a Shepard. “Jayne’ll get that,” Mal was telling the Holy Man, and the Shepard smiled. “I can manage, thank you,” he replied. “Though you may want to have him cart the food up to the galley.” “Jayne won’t mind that,” Mal smiled. Jayne ignored the by play. Did that voice sound familiar? He cocked his head to one side, studying the Shepard. Reminded him of something, he decided. Something long ago. But what, he couldn’t put his finger on. “Jayne, why not take the Shepard’s donation of real food up to the galley?” Mal said, jarring the mercenary from his thoughts. Jayne nodded, taking hold of the stack of crates and hauling the effortlessly up the stairs. “Rather strong young man,” Book commented softly, and Mal nodded. “And a bit thick headed,” Mal chuckled. “But he’s a good man in a fight.” “I’m sure,” Book repressed a smile. After all this time. . . “Excuse me, Shepard, got Captainy things to see to. Kaylee’ll see to gettin’ you settled.” “Certainly, Captain.” Book nodded absently. “God shines the light when things are often darkest,” the old man muttered to himself, following the engineer to his quarters.

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Archangel –Chapter Three Author owns no rights to Firefly, and no copyright infringement is intended. --------------------- Book didn’t approach the man known as Jayne Cobb until after Ariel. It was apparent, at least to the Shepard, that Cobb had attempted to turn the Doctor and his mentally unstable sister over to the Alliance. Why he hadn’t done so was a mystery. He found the mercenary lifting weights in the cargo bay, silent anger pouring off him in waves that were hard to ignore, if one knew the signs. Book knew. “Hello, Michael,” he said softly. The bar froze in mid air, hanging effortlessly in the man’s large hands. “Think you got the wrong man, Preacher,” Jayne replied finally, raising the bar at last, and placing into the rest. “No, I don’t,” Book insisted quietly. “You are Michael.” Jayne flowed to his feet with a grace that no one else on this ship would have expected. Book was not surprised. “I said, you got the wrong man,” Jayne repeated, heat in his words. Book smiled. “The temper of a man is like that of steel,” Book smiled. Jayne rocked back slightly. “Once lost, both become useless,” Jayne replied, almost against his will. “The prodigal son,” Book murmured, and Jayne shook his head. “I ain’t no prodigal,” he argued. “I ain’t going back.” “No,” Book nodded, sitting down on a crate near the bench. “No, it is too late for that, I fear. The school is no longer of any use to you.” “What do you want, Preacher?” Jayne demanded. “I simply want to talk,” Book said, hands raised. “Nothing more.” For now, he didn’t add. But then, he didn’t need to. “I ain’t listening to any more gibberish,’ Jayne told him flatly, but sat down on the weight bench. “Never done me, nor no one I know, a drop o’ good.” “I can see where you would think that,” Book nodded. “You’ve had a hard and difficult life, Michael. . .” “The name,” Jayne ground out, “is Cobb. Jayne Cobb. And don’t try that psycho-babble on me, neither, Preacher. Talkin’ ‘bout my ‘hard and difficult life’ ain’t the way to reach me.” “What is, then?” Book surprised him. “What is the way to reach you, Michael. To reach past the man you want others to see, and talk to the boy who once was?” “That boy is dead,” Jayne assured him harshly. “Gone. Died a long while back.” “Indeed,” Book smiled. “Yet I see some of the boy remains. Or at least,” he added at the fierce scowl, “some of what the boy was taught. What he believed.” “‘Spect that’s true of us all,” Jayne nodded, hating to concede the fact. “Your anger is consuming you, Michael,” Book warned him. “How you have held it at bay this long speaks well of Brother Thomas.” Jayne winced at the mention of the old monk. The one person he’d missed in all these years, other than his ma, had been Brother Thomas. “I manage,” was all he said. “Yes, you do,” Book nodded. “Or you did. But you’re slipping. Ariel proves that. The Captain did not betray you, Michael,” Book added, seeing the start he’d caused. “I am not, perhaps, as dumb as I look.” “Never thought you were,” Jayne muttered. “You tried to turn the Tams in,” Book said it as a statement. “Yes,” Jayne looked him in the eye. “I did.” “Then didn’t leave them,” Book pointed out, smiling. “Why?” “Don’t matter,” Jayne shrugged. “It matters a great deal, I assure you,” Book’s voice was suddenly hard edged. Jayne looked up at him. “The girl’s been. . .messed with,” he finally replied. “Hurt. Wasn’t. . .wasn’t right, lettin’em take’er back, like that.” “You killed, to prevent it?” Book asked. Jayne nodded. “Likely so. Ain’t sure,” he added. “You are absolved of that,” Book told him. “Ever though you were at fault, you saw the right thing, and did it, in the end.” “Don’t need no absolvin’,” Jayne almost snarled. “If anyone needs absolvin’, it’s that pansy-ass doc. Lettin’ Kaylee lay there, shot like that. Refusing to help her.” “And he will pay for that, Michael,” Book promised him. “Pays for it every time she is nice to him. And it is not your place to decide who pays, nor how,” the edge returned to his voice. “This from the men who taught me that justice must be administered in strange and often ancient ways,” Jayne snorted. “Got your message a bit twisted, there, Holy Man.” “Do not call me that,” Book’s voice suddenly went very quiet. “There is nothing Holy about me.” “Whatever,” Jayne snorted again. “You act like you’re holdin’ the cards, Preacher, but I might surprise you. But enough of that,” he stood. “You got something to say, or you just wanna sit here talkin’ in riddles.” “Your anger is consuming you,” Book repeated. “You need help to contain it.” “Been doin’ fine on my own,” Jayne shot back. “Why did you betray the Tams?” Book changed tactics. Caught off guard, Jayne slowly sat back down. “I already told you why,” he responded, but the reply sounded lame, even to him. “You love her, don’t you?” Book’s voice was kind, all at once. And sad. Jayne looked up as if slapped. “That ain’t none o’ your concern!” Book sighed, shaking his head. “You know, I assume, that you can never. . .” “I don’t need no reminders o’ that, neither!” Jayne was back on his feet, fists balled. For a moment Book thought he might have pushed to hard. “Let me help you,” Book’s voice was calm. “I owe it to you. And to your mother.” “Mother?” Jayne looked at him, eyes losing focus. “You knew my ma, didn’t you?” “I had that honor, yes,” Book nodded. “A most formidable woman, she was. I see much of her in you. Her influence has not been lost over the years.” “What is it you want, Preacher?” Jayne asked again, his voice almost lost. “I ain’t no. . .I won’t go back, and I won’t be one o’ your ‘messengers’ neither. I know what I am. And I know I only got. . .what do you want?” “Just to help you,” Book shrugged. “I can help you finish your training, Jayne,” he stressed the word with a smile. “I can help you find your center. Regain that which was lost.” “And that helps me how?” Jayne asked, not challenging, but in honest curiosity. “It helps keep you sane,” Book almost whispered. “And in control of yourself.” The man now known as Jayne looked at the deck beneath him. Sane. He’d hidden his fears a long time, but recently he had begun to fear his growing lack of control. His mind wandered too much. He had feared to even think that he was losing the last shred of himself to whatever was eating at his body and mind. “I wondered if I was gettin’ worse,” he finally murmured. Book placed a hand on the man’s shoulder. Jayne flinched, but didn’t brush it off. “You are doubly cursed, son,” Book told him. Jayne nodded, remembering an overheard conversation a lifetime ago. “But you can have some peace, perhaps. If you’re willing to work at it.” Jayne lifted his head, looking at the man before him. A Shepard. But there was more to him that a collar. A robe. Finally he nodded, suddenly exhausted. “All right, Preacher,” he sighed. “I’ll try it.” Book smiled, patting the shoulder beneath his hand. Inside, however, he was in turmoil. He hadn’t shared the bad news with him. That can wait, he decided. At least for a while.

------------------------ “So, you’re really goin’, then,” Jayne asked quietly from Book’s door. “I am,” Book nodded, turning from his packing to look at him. “My work here is done, I think. And there are others who need me. Need a Shepard.” “And you need them,” Jayne said. “Yes,” Book agreed, his voice soft. “I have a great deal to atone for, Michael. A great deal. I must make amends as best I can, in the time I have remaining.” “I. . .I ain’t had call, much, in my life, to say thanks,” Jayne told him. “But, thank you, Book. For. . .for everything.” “You’re quite welcome, my son,” Book smiled warmly. “I was honored to have been able to do it.” “Ain’t no honor to me,” Jayne said bluntly. “I’m beyond that, now. But a man pays his debts, Shepard. I owe you. You need something from me, it’s yours.” “Then be true to your teaching, Michael,” Book told him softly. “Use that which haunts you for the good of others, so long as you can. Make a curse into a gift.” “Don’t see no way to make that happen,” Jayne replied honestly. “Way you tell it, one day. . .” he trailed off with a shrug. “That may come to pass,” Book nodded, sadly. “Yet, it may not, as well. The future is not set into stone, my son. And your case is unusual, to say the least.” “Practically one of a kind, ain’t I?” Jayne grinned, but it faltered almost at once. “Yes, you are,” Book smiled. “And a better man, perhaps, than you give yourself credit for. One day you’ll see that, I’m confident.” “If I had stayed,” Jayne asked suddenly, “and not run off, would it have made a difference?” Book looked at him for a moment, then shook his head. “No, my boy, it would not,” he admitted. “You would have been better prepared as things ran their course, but other than that, no. It would have made no difference.” “I’m glad to know that,” Jayne nodded. “Makes me feel a bit easier.” “Good,” Book smiled. “I look forward to your coming to visit, Jayne,” Book offered his hand, just as Jayne felt a presence behind him. “Thanks, Preacher,” Jayne immediately lost his stoic attitude, reverting to the Jayne everyone knew and despised. “Been a real comfort, having a man o’ God on board. At times,” he added, with a wink only Book could see. “I’m sure I’ve made a lasting impression on you, my mercenary friend,” Book laughed. “Jayne, need to get ready to off load,” Mal ordered shortly. “Don’t pay you to stand around, jawin’.” “I’m just saying goodbye, Mal,” Jayne mouthed back. “Just cause you ain’t well mannered don’t mean the rest of us is.” With that he tromped off, scowling. Mal shook his head. “Sorry about that, Shepard,” Mal turned to Book. “Can’t take him nowhere.” “He’s isn’t a problem, Captain,” Book fought the urge to frown. “I’ve become good friends with Jayne, during my time here.” “Likely the only friend he’s got, then, way he carries on,” Mal chuckled, walking off. “Don’t be too sure of that, Captain,” Book murmured, too softly for Mal to hear. “Don’t be too sure of that.” ------------------------ The ship was quiet. Too many people missing, Jayne thought, sitting in the cargo bay. Too much lost. Miranda lay behind them, along with both Wash, and Book. The only good thing to come of it, aside from exposing the evil worked by the Parliament with the Pax, was that the girl seemed sane, all at once. Jayne snorted in amused pity. Too bad I can’t find something like Miranda for me, he thought idly. But he was happy for the girl. No child deserved all that. No child deserved anything like that. He walked restlessly around the cargo bay, burning off energy. Energy, he snorted again. Adrenaline. Still trying to fool myself all these years later. He reclined on the weight bench, and began pumping weights. As much as he could stand. He’d do it until he was exhausted. And then keep going. Burning away his self-pity, his doubts, his adrenaline. Long into the night cycle, as the ship made it’s way through the black, it echoed with the clanking of weights, and the soft grunts of the man using them. The only therapy he had.

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Author's Note

I decided to post the first three chapters of this together in order to avoid flooding the page. That's one Resolution I'm sticking to;) The other chapters will be posted one at a time, but these three need to be read together to set up the story. There is no connection between this and my other stories.

Let me know what you think!

COMMENTS

Monday, January 14, 2008 11:18 AM

KIMBER


They way you connected Book and Jayne was ...AWSOME!! Especially the backstory...genius =) Book knew how to read him and I guess him loving River was all part of that, pity he lost him on Miranda. Hope to see more soon =)

Keep flyin' ;>

Thursday, March 6, 2008 12:55 AM

DUN


i usually stay in the shadows but i have too say i enjoyed the beginning of your story and very shiny knowing theres load more


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