Archangel – Chapter Twenty Five Author owns no rights to Firefly, and no copyright infringement is intended. Fanfic only. --------------------- “How we doin’, ‘Tross?” Mal asked, walking onto the bridge. “Thirty-six hours, forty-one minutes, and nineteen seconds to Idlewild. Approximately,” she added, smirking. “Sounds good,” Mal nodded, missing, as usual, her rather exact ‘approximate’ time. She sighed, wondering why she bothered. “Anything on the sensors?” he asked. “No, Captain,” River assured him. “We are alone.” “Good,” Mal nodded again. “You are worried?” River asked. “You ain’t?” Mal countered, and she laughed. “Not right now,” she assured him. “We are fine for the moment.” “Try and keep it that way,” he ordered. “I. . .I got a odd feelin’ ‘bout all this.” “I know,” she nodded. “I think we all feel at least some apprehension. Potential for violence is high.” “It is that,” Mal agreed. “We’ll know more, I’m thinkin’, when we make this drop. More than we want to, maybe. Which is what worries me.” “Think the Operative will be there?” she asked. “No idea,” Mal admitted. “None. Strikes me as mighty odd that the man we’re deliverin’ all this too has Book’s last name, though.” “Operative was speaking the truth,” River told him. “Doesn’t mean he’s trustworthy,” she raised a hand to forestall Mal’s coming objection. “Just means he’s being truthful about what he said.” “Well, truthful or not, I just don’t see no way we can trust him.” “Nor do I,” she agreed. “Nor do I.” ------------------------ “What are you doing, Simon?” Jazz asked, from the doorway to the infirmary. “Just busy work, honestly,” Simon smiled. “I’d welcome company, if you’re bored.” “Is it always this tedious?” she asked, walking into the room, and taking a seat. “The black, you mean?” he asked, sitting as well. She nodded. “Be grateful for tedium,” Simon chuckled softly. “We don’t often see it, on Serenity.” “I’ve traveled before, of course,” Jazz told him. “But always on passenger ships. I assumed I’d be busy writing, if I managed to convince Captain Reynolds to let me onboard. But that isn’t happening, at the moment.” “Well, it may not happen at all,” Simon admitted. “You have to remember that we’ve all suffered a good bit, over the last two years or so. None of us are eager to re-live that. Let alone,” he added, “risk it happening again.” “I can understand that,” Jazz nodded. “Still, I think your story, all of your stories, would be an inspiration to those fighting against the Alliance’s domination of people.” “It might well be,” Simon admitted. “But is it worth our lives?” “Sometimes sacrifices have to be made, Simon, to make things better,” she pointed out. “That’s very easy to say, when you aren’t the one making the sacrifice,” Simon replied. “You have no idea what we’ve been through. Any of us. And while there were a few people willing to help us, there weren’t many. Why should we be so willing to put ourselves through all that, again, when no one was willing to help us, before? What do we owe anyone?” “It’s not always about owing, Simon,” Jazz told him quietly. “There are things happening that are just. . .horrible to contemplate. And not just the reavers,” she added. “People are disappearing, businesses being closed, lands seized. All in the name of ‘a better world’.” “What?” Simon’s head snapped up. “What did you say?” “People are. . . .” “No,” Simon shook his head. “A better world? Where did you hear that?” “It’s the Alliance’s new mantra,” Jazz told him. “It’s unofficial, of course, but it’s been heard far too often. Every time they do something, it’s justified with that ‘better world’ tag. Every time.” “I. . .please excuse me,” Simon stood. “I need to talk to the Captain.” “I’ll come with you,” she started to rise. “No,” Simon stopped her, hand on her shoulder. “Not yet. I’ll call you in a minute or so, probably.” He left the room hurriedly in search of Mal, leaving a confused Jasmine Carter in his wake. --------------------- “Whatcha doin’?” Kaylee asked, sitting down beside Jayne. He was seated on an empty crate in the cargo bay, a whetstone in one hand, knife in the other. He’d started out sharpening the blade, but had long since fallen into stillness. As Kaylee sat down, he carefully laid them aside. “Thinkin’,” he admitted. “Just thinkin’ on things.” “Like what?” she asked, smiling. “Like you. And me.” Jayne placed his arm around her, and Kaylee leaned into him without a though, taking comfort in his closeness. “What about me and you?” she asked. “Just thinkin’, that’s all,” he smiled down at her. “I keep thinkin’ I’m gonna wake up, and this has just been a really good dream, Kaylee,” he admitted. “That none of it’s been real, and I. . . .” “It is a dream, Jayne,” Kaylee told him softly. “Just one come true, is all. I. . .Jayne I always dreamed of how things’d be, was I ta find the right man, ya know? How things might lie between us. Never found it, mind. But I kept hopin’. And now,” she smiled gently, touching his face, “now, I done found it. And it’s the greatest thing in the ‘verse, Jayne Cobb. It’s the most wonderful feelin’ I ever known, to have you. To know that you love me, no matter what. And that I love you the same way.” “Like we’re sharing a heart, ai ren,” she kissed him gently, but passionately. “Like we’re two halves o’ the same soul. Meant to be.” “Wow,” Jayne said after a minute. “That’s. . .that’s almost scary, xin gan,” he whispered. “That you was. . .that you feel the same way I do. I was just thinkin’ near ‘bout the same thing, when you sat down here.” “You was?” Kaylee asked, surprised. “I was,” he nodded. “I mean, I ain’t got the words to say it like you just did. I was thinkin’ more on the lines of a story I read one time,” Jayne told her. “Where a man said happiness was born a twin, and sometimes they managed to find each other.” “That’s pretty, Jayne,” Kaylee said quietly. “Like a poem or somethin’.” “Wasn’t a poem, as I recall,” Jayne replied. “Was a story, ‘bout a man who’d lost his folks at a young age. But this woman, she took him in, and treated him like he was her own. And he met this woman, only she was near on pledged to marry a relative on his ma’s side. A man what hated him, wanted him dead.” “Sounds like an old west tale,” she smiled. He looked down at her, serious. “It was,” he nodded. “In the end, he got the girl,” he smiled. “But only after a bit o’ shootin’ and what not. Killed his evil relative, and made peace with his mother’s aunt. Lived happily ever after, in fact,” he smiled. “Well, I can do with some o’ that,” Kaylee murmured. “Fact is, there’s somethin’ else I can do with a bit of, right now,” she breathed huskily into his ear. Jayne grinned at her. “Reckon we can make do with that,” he told her, pulling her to her feet. “Only not here. Mal’d be like to strain somethin’,” he joked, and Kaylee giggled, allowing him to pull her upright. “Your bunk or mine, big boy?” she asked coyly, batting her eyes theatrically. “Your choice, ai ren.” ----------------------- “You’re sure that’s what she said?” Mal asked Simon. The young Doctor nodded. “Made her repeat it,” he stressed. “She told me that it’s become a mantra, of sorts, the justification of every Alliance infringement of late.” “Reckon we better talk to her, Simon,” Mal said grimly. “Why not get her up here to the galley. We’ll set and have a talk. I’ll get Inara. And Zoe. Let’s see what she has to say. Might be we need to change our plans, somewhat.” Simon nodded, and hurried to fetch Jazz. He returned in just a minute. “Miss Carter,” Mal said, once she was seated. Inara and Zoe had joined him in the galley. “Simon tells me you shared some interesting information with him.” “I did?” Jazz was puzzled. “Is this about the ‘better world’ thing?” “It is,” Mal nodded. “I’d be interested in hearing whatever you know about that phrase, and who’s usin’ it.” “Well, Alliance agents are using it, Captain,” Jazz told him, feeling the undercurrent of tension in the room. “Whenever they do something that people protest against, which is becoming more and more frequent. They insist that their actions are necessary, and all with the goal of this ‘better world’ in mind.” “I see,” Mal nodded. “Jazz, I think maybe it’s time we brought you up to speed on somethings.” He gazed around at the faces before him, and received a nod from each one, before continuing. “We told you our connection with the Operative,” Mal began. “Thing is, he used that ‘mantra’ of yours, as well. To justify killin’ no tellin’ how many people in an effort to get Simon and River. Had to fight against him and a passel o’ reavers to get the Miranda wave out.” “Captain, is this something I can write about?” Jazz asked, hopefully. Mal considered that. “I tell you what,” he decided suddenly. “We’ll tell you everything, I think, barring objection from the relevant parties. You write your story, and let us see it. If. . .if we all agree on it, then yes. It’s something you can write about, and broadcast as you see fit. But,” he cautioned, “we’ll want final say on whether or not it’s published, and when.” “I don’t really like censorship, Captain,” Jazz replied neutrally. “It’s one of the things we’re fighting against the Alliance over.” “We aren’t talkin’ ‘bout censorship,” Mal’s tone remained even, though his eyes grew cold. “We’re talkin’ ‘bout whether or not to draw a bull-eye on the head of every person on this boat. We’ve suffered, and lost, a great deal, Miss Carter. A very great deal. I’m not willin’ to start that up again, just to let you tell our story. Are we convinced, as a family, that your story will be worth the likely cost to us, then we’ll see. That’s as much as I can offer, at this point. Choice is yours.” Jazz sat looking at them for a long minute. Then another. Considering her response, as well as her own feelings. On the one hand, she felt that everyone had the right to know what had happened. On the other, she weighed the risks to Captain Reynolds and his crew. His family. “All right, Captain,” she finally agreed. “I don’t like having something like that held over me, I admit. But I’ll honor your request. If,” she made a point of her own, “you level with me. About everything.” “That depends on the crew,” Mal told her. “If everyone is in agreement, then I won’t object to your knowing everything that’s happened.” “Does that include Cobb, and what he did on Beaumond?” she asked, her voice edged with just a bit of excitement. “That will have to be up to Jayne,” Mal told her flatly. “And I warned you, when you came on board. Don’t push him. He won’t respond well to it.” “I can believe that,” she shuddered internally at the memory of the giant man’s reaction to the Operative. “Let me get my recorder,” she rose, and hurried from the room. “Mal, are you sure this is a good idea?” Inara asked softly. “No,” Mal admitted. “But I been thinkin’. If something happens to us, the story needs to be told. Carter and her outfit seem to be the best place to put that trust, far as I can see. I don’t want the story of what happened, and what caused it, to be lost if we slip. We owe that much to Wash,” he smiled softly at Zoe, and she nodded her thanks. “And to Book and the folks at Haven. And to everyone else who died.” “That’s true,” Inara smiled, slipping her hand into his. “Simon, go and talk to River,” Mal ordered. “You two decide how much, if anything, you want to share. I’ll talk to Jayne.” ----------------------- “What do you think, Simon?” River asked. “I don’t know, mei mei,” Simon admitted. “Mal made a good point. If we were. . .if this ends badly for us, then the story needs to be told. I don’t know what’s best, or what will happen. And Mal said everyone needs to decided on their own behalf what to do.” “I’ll never be free of them, Simon, so long as they remain hidden,” River said quietly. “And neither will you.” “I know,” Simon nodded. “That’s why I decided to stay here, even after the Operative had the warrants removed. It isn’t safe to go home. Not like things are. If nothing else, we’re something that needs to be ‘dealt with’ for the ‘good of the Alliance’,” Simon’s mouth twisted at the words, as if he’d tasted something foul. “Then let us tell her everything,” River nodded. “Leave nothing out. If we are never to have peace, then there is nothing to risk by having the story told, is there?” “No,” Simon smiled faintly. “No, I don’t suppose there is.” “Very well,” River smiled. “You have my input. I will leave the final decision in your hands.” ----------------------- Mal stood in the cargo bay, having caught Jayne and Kaylee as they were leaving. He’d explained the situation to them, wanting their input. “She wanted to know if that included what you’d done at Beaumond, Jayne,” Mal added. “Told her that was your call, mind,” he added. “That’s out,” Jayne said flatly. “There ain’t nothin’ there to talk about, far as I’m concerned.” Mal nodded, having expected that. “As to the rest,” Jayne shrugged, looking at Kaylee. “Your call, ai ren.” “What?” Kaylee’s shock was evident. “Jayne, I didn’t have nothin’ to do with all that!” she protested. “Hell you didn’t,” Mal objected. “You was right there, the whole way, mei mei. Couldn’t have done it ‘thout you. So you get a say.” Kaylee blushed at the praise, and looked again at Jayne. “No, Jayne,” she shook her head. “This is on you. I’ll do whatever you think best. I. . .I don’t know what to say, or do.” Jayne looked at her for a long time, and finally nodded, turning to Mal. “Do what you think best, Captain,” Jayne said firmly. “But nothin’ ‘bout me and the order. Period. I’ll tell her that, you want, but it’ll likely be better comin’ from you.” “Fair enough,” Mal agreed. “Want you two in the galley, then,” he told them, and smiled at the couple’s discomfiture. “You can get to all that later,” he smirked, and both colored a bit, not realizing they had been so obvious. “Okay,” Jayne sighed. “Let’s go, baby doll. Might’s well get it over with.” ------------------------ The story took nearly four hours in all, starting with River’s entrance into the Academy, and ending with Mal’s final discussion with the Operative. Jazz let them all talk, taking notes on questions she’d want to ask later, rather than interrupt the flow of the conversation. By the end of the tale, she was aghast. “I can see why you were reluctant to want that known,” she admitted, pale. “Well, we’ve been relatively safe for a good while,” Mal told her. “But I don’t know, with things like they are, how much longer that’ll last. Might be we won’t be safe for much longer.” “What about you, Mister Cobb?” Jazz asked with a smile. “I’d be very interested in hearing you story.” “I ain’t got no story,” Jayne told her flatly. “I think that’s not quite the case,” Jazz replied kindly. “You did an incredible thing on Beaumond. It’s a story that deserves telling in it’s own right.” “I ain’t got no story,” Jayne’s voice cooled a bit. “Don’t be writin’ nothin’ ‘bout me ain’t in the tale you just heard. Dong ma?” “My deal with the Captain was to include your own story. . . .” Jazz began, but Mal cut her off. “I told you, Miss Carter, that each person’s story, as such, was their own decision, did I not?” Mal’s voice had an edge to it as well. “So you did,” Jazz nodded, remembering. “I just wanted to know about. . . .” “That ain’t gonna happen,” Jayne growled, low in his chest. “Don’t ask me no more,” he warned. Kaylee slipped his hand into her’s, and Jayne’s anger cooled somewhat. “I think it’s a mistake,” Jazz told him, “but I’ll honor your wishes, Mister Cobb.” “Well, then,” Mal said, ending any more debate on the subject. “I’d say that’s everything.” “I’d like to ask some questions about the story, later on,” Jazz told him. “I made notes as you all talked, but I didn’t want to interrupt. Will that be all right?” “Long as the folk you’re asking don’t mind, I don’t,” Mal nodded. “But when they say no, that’s it. No.” “Fair enough,” Jazz sighed again. “Good. Now that this is settled, we all got things to do, so let’s be about’em.”