Disclaimer: Joss, Fox, Universal Own em’. (Except for Allan and the kids. they're mine) I’m just playing. No money being made.

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This story takes place nine years after Serenity (BDM) and has the established couples of Simon/Kaylee, Mal/Inara, Zoë/Allan and Jayne/River. Takes place five years post “The Bash” -

AN: Lots going on in this chapter. Also I know I'm touching on a few controversial subjects here. Namely race and religion. I hope I can do this without offending anyone. The opinions expressed by one of my characters are not my own but are necessary for the story line. I apologize in advance if I have offended anyone. Also there's some salty language in english.

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Thanks again to Woonsocket and Chris for the Beta work

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Relics

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Chapter Nine

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“...Kind of hard to forget the name and face of a man who tried to have me killed.”

Winston Chapel leaped to his feet. His face turning red with rage, “How dare you speak to me like that. I am a man of God!”

“You're a huckster and shyster who's personal vendetta against me led to you hiring a hit team and trying to kill me,” Allan growled.

“I did no such thing,” Chapel sputtered.

“Then explain why you were arrested for conspiracy in the murder of my security team and my attempted murder?”

“Charges were dropped.”

“I know that. Now can you please explain to me why a man who was so vehemently against the Exodus ended up in cryo on an Exodus ship?” Allan was nose to nose with Chapel.

“I... I wasn't against it in general. Only how the Exodus was executed.”

“Oh yes, I read that in one of your press releases. Only those you considered God's true children should be allowed to migrate.”

“That's right!” Chapel yelled.

Allan smiled slightly but there was no humor in his eyes. “Please explain to these good people who you consider God's true children.”

“Despite our differences, you fit the criteria,” Chapel growled back.

“And what criteria is that? These people want to know.”

Chapel took a moment to look at the people gathered around. Three faces in particular caught his attention. The oriental man in uniform, the black skinned woman and the obvious half-breed child hanging on to her. He snorted, “It's obvious. Your skin.”

“What is it about my skin? Oh, do you mean it's color?”

“Yes,” Chapel growled back.

“Let me summarize,” Allan replied in his most scholarly tone of voice. “Anyone not Caucasian is not a child of god and should not have been allowed to join the Exodus, correct?”

“Yes,” Chapel nearly spat. “Abominations like that oriental thing and that black trollop over there shouldn't be even allowed to live. And that half-breed whelp should have been killed at birth...”

The next thing Winston Chapel knew, he was laying on the deck with a nearly dislocated jaw and Allan Bryant standing over him, rubbing the knuckles on his right hand.

Allan leaned over the man laying on the deck. “I'll have you know, that so called 'half-breed' over there is my daughter and the woman next to her is my wife. And if you ever say anything about them again you'll have more to worry about than a sore jaw.”

“Saw that 'comin,” Allan heard Jayne remark. Zoë's face hardened but she didn't move yet. She held out a hand to keep Mal back. She knew Allan needed to do this by himself.

“You can't do this to me. I'm an important man!”

“No. You're a racist bastard who isn't above murder for his own twisted ideals. As for your importance, it's nothing in the here and now. Four hundred years ago, you had some status. Now, you are less than nothing.”

Chapel scrambled to his feet and stared at Allan. He then straightened and turned to the crowd. “I want to speak with the highest government official available. I wish to file assault charges against this ni... man.”

Allan grinned at him. “Good luck in that.”

“Why?”

“Because the highest ranking government official for five days full burn is standing right here... isn't that so, Admiral Shin.”

Chapel paled when the Oriental man he had just called, not worthy of life, stepped forward. “You are correct, Dr. Bryant. And I don't know what Mr. Chapel is talking about. I didn't see any assault. Did you?”

“I think he tripped,” Allan replied coldly.

Shin turned around to face the group. “Did anyone witness an assault just now?”

Everyone shook their heads no. Even a wide eyed Melissa Forbes and the other two Kansas survivors.

Zoë dropped her arm and Mal stepped forward. “Mr. Chapel. You're no longer welcome on my ship.”

“Who are you?”

“Captain Malcolm Reynolds, master of this vessel. You got thirty seconds to get your pi-gu 'offa my boat.”

Shin snapped his fingers and two armed marines stepped into the bay from the docking tunnel, “Escort Mr. Chapel to his quarters aboard Magellan. Make sure he has dinner delivered.”

The marines saluted and led the sputtering man away. Zoë was at Allan's side a moment later. “Are you okay?” she asked.

Allan nodded. His hands still shaking with fury, “I'm pretty easy to get along with and I try not to dislike anyone... but I truly, truly hate that man.”

“He's slime,” Sylvia stated as she crossed her arms and stood next to Zoë.

Sara looked up at her father. “Daddy? What's a half-breed?”

XXXXXXXXXX

Hours later, after the kids had been put to bed, five people sat around the table in Serenity's galley. Allan had to smile slightly as Admiral Shin, Zoë and Mal toasted each other with some of the Admiral's brandy. It turned out that he too, was a Serenity Valley veteran.

Despite being on different sides, Anyone who survived the valley was someone Mal could respect.

“So, how did the war start?” Sylvia asked.

“Might have a difference of opinion with the Admiral here, but a bunch o' the Rim Worlds got fed up with the central government meddling with how they were doing things. Taxes kept goin up and we weren't seeing nothin in return,” Mal said. “Regulations came down from on high on how we were supposed to do things. What and when to plant, how many animals and the like... well least that's how it was fer me and mine on Shadow.”

“The government was indeed heavy handed at that time,” Shin admitted. “Those in power kept an iron grip.”

“In hindsight, I know where some of that attitude came from,” Allan replied.

“Where, Dear?” Zoë asked.

“John Lassiter.”

“The Minister of Defense from Earth?” Sylvia asked.

“Lassiter was on the Manchester in cryo,” Allan said. “Thing is, ol' John didn't just help with the founding of the new worlds. He went back into cryo instead. He'd come back out every fifty years or so. Work the bits of his grand scheme and then go back on ice. Time I got here, he had the previous administration's Prime Minister along with the Cabinet and half of Parliament in his pocket and had the entirety of Blue Sun to do his bidding.”

“With government approval, he did things so vile... well, lets put it this way. I honestly think he orchestrated the whole war as a stepping stone to his goal of ruling everything,” Allan finished.

“What are some of the things he did?” Sylvia asked.

“River, for one,” Zoë said.

“River?”

“River's a super genius. Makes me look like an idiot,” Allan replied, “Her folks heard about this special school for gifted children. They sent River.”

“This school was a front for a Blue Sun lab doing human experimentation,” Mal continued. “Cut into her brain, torture, combat training... she was fourteen.”

“My god,” Sylvia exclaimed.

Allan continued the story, “Now, River had a natural psychic ability. Real honest to god telepathy. Not very strong, but there nonetheless. Somehow they found out about that and did things... made River stronger... and insane,”

“It's like something out of science fiction...”

“All true,” River said quietly as she entered the galley.

“Didn't mean to wake ya' Albatross,” Mal said.

“Noisy up here,” River replied, tapping her temple with an index finger. She took a seat next to Sylvia.

“You're the one,” the Admiral said quietly. “The one we were chasing all those years ago.”

“Like a rabbit,” River replied. “But the fox was outsmarted.”

“This is all a bit much to take in...” Sylvia said in a subdued tone.

“You've had a pretty busy forty-eight hours, Sylvia,” Allan said. “I didn't get a hang of things around here for a while. At least you weren't in a shootout twelve hours after getting out of cryo.”

“A shootout?”

Allan grinned and he and River began to recount the tale of Jayne's ex-partner showing up and trying to board Serenity.

“Sounds like the old west,” Sylvia commented.

“Sometimes the Rim is a bit like the old west,” Allan replied.

“What about that hundan, Chapel?” Mal asked, changing the subject.

“Personal issues aside,” Admiral Shin replied, “He is still a citizen. He has broken no laws here and now so I cannot hold him.”

“I don't want him back aboard Serenity,” Mal stated, “And I know for certain, Robert ain't gonna let him on the Sutherland.”

“He will remain on board Magellan. Once this mission is concluded, Mr. Chapel will be transferred to Londonium and be given assistance in settling into a new life.”

“Drop him in the middle of a Tong neighborhood on Shinon,” Allan grumbled, “and see how long he lasts...”

All eyes focused on Allan.

“Oh, did I say that out loud?”

“Yes you did, Dear,” Zoë grinned.

“As a Fleet Admiral, I cannot agree with that statement. But as a man who grew up in a Tong neighborhood on Shinon... I'd do it personally if I could,” Shin finished with a grin.

Mal clinked his glass with the officer. “Hear, hear.”

They chatted a while longer before the Admiral excused himself and returned to Magellan. Zoë had set up Alicia's old bunk for Sylvia to use. Soon the crew bid each other goodnight and retired for the evening.

XXXXXXXXXX

The next couple of days went by in a blur for Sylvia. On the second day, she borrowed Zoë's space suit and went with Allan to the Kansas. Ostensibly to retrieve her personal effects and to retrieve the items in storage, belonging to the other survivors.

“You doing okay?” Allan's voice crackled across her headphones.

“Kind of hard to look at her like this,” Sylvia replied as she waved her hand around indicating the ship in general. “Last I saw her, Kansas was a ship... not a derelict.”

“She will be a ship again,” Allan said.

“You sure?”

“Well, a museum is more of what I was thinking of.”

“I'd like that better than breaking her up for scrap.” Sylvia replied. She unlatched the storage container in front of her and floated it across the cryo chamber to Allan. She was doing her best to ignore the bodies, still laying in the other cryo chambers lining the walls of the compartment.

“That's the last one,” She said.

“Even that asshole, Chapel's stuff?”

Sylvia chuckled into the radio, “Even the asshole's.”

“Okay, let's get back to the shuttle and get your gear.”

Allan docked Shuttle Two at the airlock below the bridge and he and Sylvia re-entered Kansas. As they floated into Main Street, Sylvia, looked over at Allan. “Where did you find George?”

“On the bridge,” Allan replied.

“I guess we won't go there just yet. I don't think I'm ready for that.”

“No problem. We'll just get your stuff and skedaddle.”

“Actually, I need to make one more stop after that.”

XXXXXXXXXX

It took Allan's help to force the door open to the cabin across the corridor from Sylvia's own. Maybe that was the problem. He had been too close. Just across the corridor, thirty feet. She had actually measured it once. From her bed to Derrick's.

Sylvia floated in place for a moment, taking her time to say goodbye. Floating above Derrick's nightstand was a photo in a frame. It was a little yellowed from age but still intact. She handled it carefully due to the intense cold. It was group shot. Allan, Derrick, Sylvia, Manfred Ditz, George Tashima, Dr. Bennett...

“I remember that shot,” Allan said from next to her.

“That was a good day,” Sylvia sniffled.

“No crying in your suit. It's real hard to blow your nose...”

Sylvia's shoulders shook as she chuckled. “I'm done,” she said after a moment.

“Let's get back to Serenity.”

XXXXXXXXXX

After docking, Allan and Sylvia passed the storage containers to Jayne. Then with Mal and Zoë they carried them carefully down to the cargo bay deck.

“They'll need to warm up for a few hours before we can open them,” Allan said.

Sylvia's personal effects were still in the shuttle defrosting. It consisted mostly of her civilian clothing and a few mementos. She still grasped the photo she had found in Derricks quarters.

“Let me give you a hand, Sylvia,” Zoë said, Offering to help the other woman out of her borrowed space suit.

“Thanks, Zoë.”

“What's that?”

“Oh, that's us at that party at Allan's I told you about... when he made us breakfast.”

Zoë held the photo while Sylvia took off her gloves. “Which one is Derrick?”

“The one between Allan and me.”

“Good lookin man,” Zoë said with a small smile. “You're a lucky girl.”

Sylvia nodded, “We didn't have a lot of time together but... Yeah, I was lucky to have him as long as I did.”

Zoë placed a hand on Sylvia's shoulder and smiled.

XXXXXXXXXX

Sylvia looked at herself in the full length mirror in her room. She was amazed at how well her clothes had survived over four hundred years in her dresser and closet. Chilling things to nearly absolute zero had quite a bit to do with their preservation.

“Ain't gonna be able to wear these jeans much longer,” She muttered to herself as she pulled them on. After her checkup with Dr. Tam before her trip over to the Kansas. He told Sylvia that she was nearly four months along and that the baby looked fine.

After pulling on a shirt, Sylvia climbed the ladder out of her room and nearly collided with Mal. “Sorry Captain.”

“No worries, Captain,” Mal replied.

“I don't really have a ship anymore. Probably be better if you just called me Sylvia.”

“Still makes you a Captain, but I'll do it but only 'iffin you call me Mal.”

“Okay, Mal.”

“You get what you needed from your ship?”

“I think so. Seems nice to wear my own clothes.”

“I think we'll be making a supply stop on the way back to Boros. That'll give you a chance to do some shopping and such.”

“Uh, I don't have any money...”

Mal grinned, “Actually you do. Admiral sent these over.”

“What's this?” Sylvia asked as she took the small bundle from Mal.

“New identity and bank cards. Thousand credits in cash and your new master's license.”

“Master's license?”

Mal grinned, “You're a captain. Now you got paperwork to match.”

“But, I know nothing about the ships in this century.”

“Neither did Allan, but he figured it out.”

“Allan's a genius...”

“So, it'll take you a might longer is all. If I can do it, you can. First time I ever set foot on a ship was when I joined the Independents.”

“Thanks cap... Mal.”

XXXXXXXXXX

Winston Chapel was an angry man. Under virtual arrest on the orders of that slant-eyed monkey in charge, Chapel sat sullenly in his room on Magellan and plotted. He would have his revenge. Some of the tools he needed for that revenge had been handed to him when a crewman delivered the personal effects he had in storage on Kansas.

He had been grateful for the clothing. Athletic wear wasn't much to his liking. What he had really been glad to see was the small locked, metal lined wooden box that held all of his most prized possessions.

Particularly the small frame Sig-Sauer automatic pistol and his old K-Bar knife. With these in hand, the former marine turned evangelist turned religious crusader would bring the word to all these new worlds. Just like his good friend John Lassiter had planned.

His first task would be to rid the universe of Allan Bryant and that abomination he said was his daughter. Chapel smiled evilly. Maybe he would spend some time with the trollop Bryant called his wife as well. He hated non-whites but as a woman, she did have her uses. Particularly if Bryant was alive and watching when he took her.

With that thought dancing in his head, Chapel laid back on his bed and fell asleep. He knew God was smiling down on him.

XXXXXXXXXX

“Refueling complete,” said the voice in Allan's headset, “And the tanker is clear.”

“Copy that. Stand by,” Allan turned in his suit to face Lt. Henderson, “Ready?”

“Anytime, Dr. Bryant.”

Allan looked around Kansas' bridge. George Tashima's body had been removed by members of Magellan's crew as had the body of Manfred Ditz found in his quarters.

“Here we go,” Allan said as he typed a series of commands into the master control console. In sequence, the bridge displays began to flicker to life one by one. So far so good. No major problems yet.

“Steve... Bring reactor power to thirty percent.”

“Coming up now,” the young engineer replied.

Allan looked at the power relay display. There were a few shorts in the main power distribution buss but he had expected that. The automatic systems rerouted around the damaged sections.

Slowly, Kansas was coming back to life.

“Okay, bringing the atmospheric plant on line, sections one through eight. Pasture and dome sections will remain as is,” Allan intoned into his suit radio. A moment later the drifting debris on the bridge began to move as the ventilation system turned on.

“Ventilation operating,” Lt. Henderson said, “and the air pressure is increasing. Temperature is up fifty degrees and rising.”

“So far, so good,” Allan smiled.

“Gravity generators are in the green, Dr. Bryant.”

“Reactor to eighty percent.”

“Showing eighty percent,” Henderson reported after a few seconds, “Containment is stable.”

“Okay, gravity generators to standby.”

“On standby.”

“Set for five percent. I don't want anything or anyone crashing down.”

Allan felt the slight tug of gravity and his spacesuit boots gently touched the deck. The odd scraps of paper in the air also began to fall very slowly.

After ten minutes. Long enough for anything floating to have migrated to the deck plates. Allan ordered that the gravity be ramped up to half a gee over five minutes. Once stable at that level, Henderson increased to full gravity.

Allan smiled at the younger man, “What's the temperature in here now?”

“Bridge shows thirty five degrees Fahrenheit.”

“Pressure?”

“Fourteen PSI. Oxygen at sixteen percent.”

“No time like the present,” Allan said as he unsealed the visor on his helmet. For the first time on over four hundred years, someone was breathing the air on Kansas.

“Well?” Henderson asked.

“Smells a bit musty but it's breathable.”

“Congratulations, Dr. Bryant.”

“A couple of things left to do yet,” Allan replied.

Allan stiffly walked over to the combination helm and navigation console and carefully sat in the pilots station.

“Inertial dampeners?”

“On line,” the lieutenant replied.

“Here's the acid test then,” Allan replied as he began throwing switches on the console.

Kansas was slowly tumbling. Not very fast. A few degrees per minute. She took about an hour to complete her full end over end flip. She did a complete roll every two hours.

As she watched from Serenity's bridge, Sylvia Marsh was in tears as all of Kansas' running lights came on. A moment later, with brief flashes of fusion fire. Her thrusters stabilized the massive ship.

Crowded against every available window, the crews of the Magellan, Eagle and the other Alliance ships participating in the operation, broke out in applause.

Kansas was a derelict no more.

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TBC