“The storm’s getting worse.” “We’ll pass through it soon enough.” We thought it was over. But it was only just beginning…

“The Alliance select committee charged with investigating the anonymous ‘Miranda wave’ began its first official hearings today. In the four months since the wave was sent across the Cortex, no group has claimed responsibility for it. The message intensified fears of raids on the Border and Rim by a violent group of cannibalistic outlaws dubbed ‘Reavers’ by locals, and caused some pockets of unrest on several worlds. As a result, the parliamentary delegations from the Georgia and Blue Sun systems demanded the government step up protections for the outer worlds and fully investigate the threat. The message originated from Comm Station Ring 2 satellite r25m9. A small Alliance patrol group was ambushed there by a previously unknown band of pirates when they went to investigate. The Alliance High Command report on the incident stated the ambush very closely resembled other attacks on the Rim, and claimed that most of the pirates were wiped out. The report blamed these pirates for the ‘Reaver’ attacks as well as the Miranda wave. However, a few officials questioned the report’s lack of depth and details on the origin of the group. Backed by popular support, particularly in the Georgia system, a coalition led by Boros’ Jansen Locherbie pressed successfully to set up the investigative committee. Chairperson Kwan opposed the committee as redundant and a waste of taxpayer revenue. Despite calls to allow an exploratory mission to Miranda as part of the investigation, Kwan has steadfastly refused to open the world to anyone other than the military, stating the instability caused by the failed terraforming makes it too dangerous for civilians to enter. This is Stefanie Kurtwin with your official Alliance Newsfeed update.” Two shadows rushed through the alley, one leading the other. The night was already deep, but the torrential rain made it even darker. The figures felt their way in the gloom along the façade of one of the buildings hemming them in. At the mouth of the alley, they halted. In the downpour, the streetlamp across the way provided not so much a light as just a weaker shade of darkness. Even so, the ambient glow was enough for anyone following to spot them. Simon pressed against the wall, one hand keeping River behind him as he listened, dreading to hear voices or the tromp of boots. If they were there, they were not to be heard over the rain. He peered around the corner, but no one was in sight. River sheltered behind her brother, his fear searing her. “I hear them! I hear them coming!” She pawed at Simon’s arm, panicked. “Shhh,” he took her face in his hands. “No they’re not. There’s no one out there.” But she knew he did not believe it. The voices faded into the storm. Were they real? Everything was chaotic. The storm, her mind, Simon. -Am I real? Is this real?- She raised her face to the clouds, the rain slapping her cheeks. She closed her eyes. It felt real enough. Soaking wet, for a moment she was able to let go of everything and revel in the fact that she was outside the walls that had been her prison. The hope, held out for so long… She soared on it. But only for a moment. She was dragged back to darkness. She shivered from more than just the chilly air. Her eyes darted around the alley, trying to perceive the invisible beings that were most certainly out there and waiting to drag her back to that horror. She felt them crawling over her scalp like lice. It was just a matter of time before they got a grip on her. -Just a matter of time. They go in and they cut. They drain you dry, and they replace it with… with…- She could not enumerate the thought. Lightning ignited the clouds. She jumped, grasping at Simon’s sleeve. Thunder rolled overhead. Another flash illuminated the alley, throwing disproportionate shadows around. One of them caught her attention. She squinted. Another flicker, and she saw it again, no mistake. Dropping Simon’s arm, she took a few steps towards it, fear forgotten for a moment. “River?” Simon turned, feeling her let go. “River?” he called again more loudly. He searched the darkness but was unable to make anything out. A violet bolt cracked the sky, making him flinch. It threw enough light to let him see her, crouched down a few steps away. “River, come on. We have to go now,” he hurried over and took her by the arm. “There’s a flower.” “What?” “There’s a flower. Right there.” She pointed to the ground. Simon peered down. “What are you talking about?” In the faint flicker of more lightning, he saw the outline of a small blossom sprouting through a crack in the stone pavement. A sound like voices touched the edge of his hearing and he whipped his head up and down the alley, tensing. “Centaurea cyanus. Young man in love,” River said with a child’s simple pleasure at finding a pretty object. “Come on. Let’s go.” Simon took her arm again and stood her up. The storm pounded down harder as he started to lead her through it. Her exposed skin grew numb from the cold. The rain became a deafening roar between the alley’s narrow walls, a curtain so dense that River could not even see her brother just a step or two in front of her. “Simon, I can’t see.” Everything was growing darker. Even the lightning had ceased. She realized she could not feel Simon’s grip on her arm anymore. “Simon?” she pleaded, suddenly terrified. She reached out, flailing through the darkness for him but finding nothing. “Where are you?” She whirled in a circle, but was unable to make out anything. The roar was all around her, and not just around her but in her, a pressure beneath her skull. She was dizzy, pulse throbbing in her temples. “Simon?” she cried out. “Simon!?” “Simon!” River shot upright with a shriek, curling herself into a ball against the wall. Her terrified eyes swept around the room while she cowed behind the covers. -Where am I?- The room around her was insubstantial, like a mirage. It blurred at the edges of her vision, darkness seeping into the cracks and corners. Something malevolent stirred behind it. She did not want to know what it was. -Please go away, please go away, please, please, please…- She gripped the covers until everything felt solid once more. It took a few more passes for her eyes to register that she was in her quarters, on board Serenity. Her head throbbed, making her dizzy, and she rubbed one hand over her face, wiping the unshed tears away in the process. It was another nightmare, and then some. She pounded her fist into the mattress in frustration. It was like before Miranda all over again. -I’m going back.- The timepiece on her com station showed it was only twenty minutes until she had to be up for watch duty. It was just as well. She would get no more sleep. Flinging back the covers, she tugged off her night shift and rummaged for some clothes. She found a clean white skirt and pulled a dark green sweater over top of it. Her thoughts dwelled on the nightmare while she dressed. Was it just a dream, or was it a memory of something that really happened? Everything before Serenity was so dark and hazy, like looking through smoked glass. She wanted to remember. It was important that she knew what was real. Squeezing her eyes shut, she focused on the dream. It was so dark and rainy she could not recognize any of the buildings. They could have been on any number of worlds, and she had no clue how many they had traveled through before Simon smuggled her onto Serenity. She bit her lip in frustration, eyes watering with the pain. At least that was real. Barefoot, she climbed the ladder from her quarters into the foredeck hall. Since she was part of the crew now, the captain allowed her to move into the unused cabin. Simon had objected to it. Although it was right next to the rest of the crew, it afforded more privacy than the passenger cabin that served as her room ever since she had arrived on Serenity. Tonight, she was extra glad for that privacy. Simon’s room was still in the passenger dorm, and her shouts would have woken him. She was not in a state of mind to deal with his unavoidable questions. He would have some new concoction for her by morning, no doubt. She grimaced. As her condition improved, he had taken her off meds, except for the occasional dose of something to help her sleep. His vigilance was down to an extent, thanks in part to his blossoming relationship with Kaylee. But if he knew she was having a relapse, he would have her back on. She hated the meds. They numbed her emotionally, which was sometimes a relief, but they often made her physically ill as well. “Evenin’ lil' albatross,” Mal greeted her from his perch at the helm. “I’m fine,” she answered his question before he could ask it. “You look a mite peaky s’ all,” he said. “How’d you sleep?” “Fine.” The word was edged with razor wire. “Okaaay,” Mal backed off, palms raised in defense. “No call for rudeness.” He rose from the helm and River slipped into the chair. “Well, at least you’re adaptin’ to the watch. We’re still on schedule for arrival at Paquin. Should be there by morning. Anything happens… well, you know the drill by now,” he said with a little smile. “I do,” she intoned quietly. “Shiny.” Mal yawned hugely and stretched. “Well, g’night.” He ambled down the stairs. River heard his bunk open, footfalls on the ladder, then the metallic thunk as it closed behind him. She was alone on the bridge. Like all vessels in space, Serenity kept a standard 24 hour clock. The helm watch was divided into three 8 hour shifts. Zoe took the first watch in the morning, Mal the second. River took the third mostly because there was less to distract her with everyone asleep. Although her sleep pattern was still erratic, the night watch generally afforded her freedom from the stress of being around everyone. Still, she was human, and the night watch was undoubtedly lonely. She countered it by spending time on the Cortex or with Simon’s encyclopedia, absorbing as much information as her ravenous brain could. She had resumed her study of astrophysics and found it a comfort. The numbers and science were logical, unchangeable, and undeniably real. It allowed her to forget much of what was always lurking just on the edge of her consciousness. She had even impressed the captain by reprogramming the nav computer herself to shave almost a day off their ETA at Paquin. “The nav computer takes into account the orbital distance our destination moves over the time we’re traveling, estimates a trajectory, and calculates a burn time to based on predicted particle and gravitational drag coefficients,” River explained. “I know how a nav computer works,” Mal lied, already lost. “Well it only calculates the destination’s orbital transit to the nearest standard day.” She smiled slyly. “I took it out to the nearest second.” “So… that means what?” “It gives a more accurate trajectory with a much more precise burn time and fewer necessary course corrections. Instead of arriving in 59 days, 9 hours, and 36 minutes, we’ll be there in 58 days, 19 hours, and 12 minutes.” “And just how did you figure all this out? In your head?” “No,” she responded without a trace of hubris. “I had to check my solutions.” She handed him a tablet, and Mal stared at the incomprehensible formulas she traced out on it. He handed it back to her, rubbing his head. “Fine. Go ahead and punch it in. But your mathematical geniusness better not make me regret it by bouncin’ us into an asteroid or some such.” “Highly improbable.” She grinned sideways and started entering the course on the keyboard, while Mal walked away muttering and shaking his head. His awkward approval had really meant something to her. It was the first time since Simon had snuck her aboard Serenity that she actually felt useful, instead of just a burden, or worse. She double-checked the course on the nav screen, then ran through the other displays to ensure Serenity’s systems were all in line. Going through these routine procedures was steadying. It helped relieve the chaos of the nightmare to do something so simple and normal as running systems checks. She paused at the engine output display, creasing her brow slightly. The core was still fluxing a little bit. It had never been perfectly steady, not since the rebuild. She would have to remember to tell Kaylee to check it out. She searched for something to make herself a note with, but, of course, there was nothing on the bridge. She swung out of the helm and plodded into the galley. She grabbed a napkin from the table and went to scrounge up a pen. She finally found one in a storage cubby. She scribbled the note on the napkin and tossed the pen on the table. That was when the transition hit. In an instant the familiar colors of the dining area changed. Everything was washed out, overexposed in shades of blue. Momentarily disoriented by the sudden color shift, River noticed something warm and sticky dripping from her fingers. Looking at her hands, they were smeared with she thought was chocolate. Confused, she headed for the sink to wash them. The body on the floor froze her mid-step. It was face-down, so she could not identify it other than it was a man. He was wearing a lab coat, like a doctor, and a pool chocolate-y brown liquid oozed from around his head and chest. Horror tore apart her thoughts as she realized it was blood, and she was covered in it. Backpedaling from the body, she looked down at herself and saw she was not wearing her clothes anymore. Only a plain hospital gown covered her, streaked with blood as well. She bumped into the wall, blocking her retreat. Staring at the corpse for a few more horrible seconds, she screamed. As her second scream rang down the corridors of Serenity, Mal scrambled up out of his quarters, shirtless but still in his trousers. “What the hell’s goin’ on?” he shouted, leaping up the stairs to the bridge. He saw no one there and immediately turned for the dining area. “River?” he shouted, leaping down the small set of steps. He found her crouched against the cabinets next to the bulkhead, hands wrapped protectively about her face. He knelt in front of her, pulling her hands away. “What is it? What happened?” She was shaking too violently to answer. “What’s goin’ on?” Zoe appeared behind him, also just barely dressed. “Go get the Doc,” he ordered her. Zoe hesitated a moment, then darted down the stairs. “What’s all the noise?” Kaylee appeared next, too sleepy still to be all that concerned. “He’s dead!” River cried. That shook Kaylee awake. “What? Who’s dead? Captain, what’s she talkin’ about?” “Don’t rightly know. River, who’s dead?” River pointed towards the corpse lying on the floor. Except it wasn’t there anymore. She stared at the spot where it had been. Not a drop of blood was to be seen. She examined her hands. They were clean. Her clothes, too, were what she had put on when she got up. Even her vision was back to normal. Frantic, she leaped up and ran to where the body was. Mal got out of her way, but watched her warily. She ran a hand through her hair, pacing over the spot. “He was here. I saw him.” She pointed at the floor, looking to Kaylee and Mal for corroboration. Her stomach twisted. They did not believe her. Their kindly-confused expressions conveyed it and she had to turn away. “Who was here?” Mal asked. She stared at the floor, frowning and uncertain. “What’s going on?” Simon appeared in the doorway, Zoe shadowing him. He immediately recognized how upset River was and came to her. “River…” She took a step back, assessing him with a distrustful expression that disturbed him. “It’s okay, River. It’s me. What’s wrong?” She turned away so he would not see the tears starting to form again. “He was dead,” she mumbled, picking at her lip, fingers still trembling. “The colors changed, and I had blood on my hands, and he was there on the floor.” “It’s okay. There’s nothing there, see?” he gently turned River to face him. She nodded, wiped her eyes. “Was it another nightmare?” She shook her head, wrapping her arms about herself. “I wasn’t sleeping.” “Okay. Let’s get you down to the infirmary…” “I’m okay,” she asserted, thrusting his hands away. “River, if the hallucinations are coming back…” “I wasn’t… hallucinating.” Her voice trembled. She was not really sure that was true. Simon regarded her evenly, but she felt his worry. “All the same, I want to do a quick check up, make sure you’re okay,” he said. She scowled at him. “Think the Doc should have a look at you, just to be safe,” Mal agreed. It was not a suggestion. “Zoe, can you cover the watch for a while?” “Yessir. Just let me get something more on.” Zoe vanished towards her quarters. River watched Mal, arms crossed over his bare chest. She saw the doubt written in his face, and she felt sick. She twisted away from Simon and bolted from the room so they would not see her furious tears. Simon glanced between Mal and Kaylee, as lost as they were for an explanation. “I’ll meet you down there,” Mal nodded towards the door. Simon started to leave, sharing a long look with Kaylee as he did. She put on a weak smile for him, her hand brushing his arm as he passed. He hurried down the stairs after River. “You best get back to bed, too,” Mal instructed her. He squeezed her shoulder as he slipped by and climbed into his quarters. Kaylee lingered a little longer before returning to her room as well. River hated the infirmary. Her every movement, her very posture emphasized that fact. Hatred was not even a strong enough word. She loathed, abhorred, detested the place. Even thought it was Simon’s, she would never be comfortable here. The pop of a syringe top coming off made her jump. She closed her eyes, willing some relaxation into her limbs. Simon swabbed her arm down and she winced just a little as he inserted the needle to draw blood. He did not say anything. He was waiting for her to talk. She could play that game as well, and knew she would win. A machine whirred to life, filling the pregnant silence a little. Simon finally spoke, and she shared a tiny, victorious smile with herself. “Do you want to talk about what happened?” She held onto silence a little longer. “I had a nightmare.” “I thought you said you weren’t asleep?” “I wasn’t. Before that.” “Before you were in the dining area?” “Yes.” “What was it about?” “It was dark, storming. You and I were running. I got lost, lost in the dark. I lost you.” She did not go into further detail. “What about just now?” She shifted uncomfortably in the chair, curling on her side slightly away from him. “I don’t know.” “You said the colors changed. What did you mean?” “They were wrong. Too bright, washed out, lots of blue.” “What about now?” “Normal.” “And the body you saw?” Her silence dragged out a few seconds. “River?” Simon took her shoulder and gently rolled her to face him. She did not want to answer. She was verging on tears again. He decided to let it go for now. “Okay,” he said soothingly, but her stark phrases brought renewed fears into his mind. It was like talking to the old River all over again. He did not want to believe she might return to that state. With a deep, shuddering sigh, she settled back into the chair, closing her eyes. Simon could not bear to look at her tortured expression any longer and turned away. Mal entered the infirmary a few moments later, now fully clothed. “How are you?” he asked River, still slouched in the exam chair. She shifted her eyes to the captain without moving, but made no answer. “How is she?” Mal posed the question to Simon instead. “Well, I’m running her blood right now just to make sure there’s no infection or metabolic imbalance. Otherwise, she’s…” he trailed off as they both looked at her. Her face was turned obstinately away. Simon gave an apologetic smile and shrugged. The machine beeped behind him and he turned to the screen on the wall, bringing up the results. Mal waited as he went over them. “Hmmm… nothing appears abnormal. All the levels are about where they should be. Everything looks fine.” “So what’s that mean?” Mal asked. “That she should be fine,” Simon answered. River got up abruptly. “Where are you goin’?” Mal stopped her with his question. She halted beside him, not looking at him. “Back on watch.” “No, you go back to your room. I’ll have Zoe take the watch.” Her jaw tightened, but she did not move. “River, it might be best if you just got some rest tonight,” Simon persuaded gently. Mal waited for her to protest. She did not. “Yes, sir,” she said instead. Her words were flat, stoic. She left the infirmary without a further glance at either of them. Mal relaxed a little. That was the first time he had given River the opportunity to challenge his authority, and he could tell she wanted to. The fact that she did not told him she was learning the discipline it took to be on the crew. He punched the com. “Zoe, I relieved River for the night. Think you can handle the watch?” “Aye, sir.” “Good. I’ll relieve you at 0800. So she should be fine, but she ain’t,” Mal returned to his conversation with Simon. “Any idea what brought this on?” Simon shrugged. “Look Doc,” Mal took a step closer, “if she’s gonna be on my crew, she can’t go flyin’ off the handle like she used to. I thought she was better after… all that,” he waved his hand, but Simon knew what he meant. “She is better. She’s off the meds. I think the psychoses are gone but…” “Gone? What was that then? I guess it’s perfectly normal to be seein’ dead bodies on the floor of the mess.” “I don’t think it was a psychotic episode.” “What makes you say that?” “She said she wasn’t hallucinating.” “Does she know the difference?” “Yes, now… maybe.” Mal passed him a skeptical glace. “Look, she can understand what’s going on. She knows what’s real and what isn’t. But she’s still got a lot of recovering to do. I think this was something else.” “Like what?” “I don’t know. She said she saw a dead body and had blood on her. We know she’s… killed on three different occasions. She’s certainly seen more violence than any kid should, and it’s not like she was in the best state to deal with it.” Simon’s voice carried a hint of accusation. Mal was pondering and did not take notice of it. “You think maybe she’s rememberin’ some of that?” “I can’t say for sure. She was different then. Maybe she couldn’t deal with those things, bottled them up and put them all away. Now that her mind is functioning better, they’re coming back.” Mal brooded for a while. A disturbing notion entertained his attention. “Maybe those weren’t the first times,” he finally uttered it. “First times for what?” “Her killin’.” He looked pointedly at Simon. Simon swallowed hard. Mal was not the only passenger on this train of thought, then. “We know the Alliance tried to turn her into a weapon,” he went on, “and you don’t send a weapon into battle ‘fore it’s been tested.” “It’s possible she has,” Simon agreed in a small voice. “Knowin’ the Alliance, I wouldn’t put it past ‘em.” They stood in silence, both feeling a little sick at the prospect of River’s, potentially extensive, hidden violent past. “You were in the war, Captain,” Simon finally broke in. “Do you ever have flashbacks?” Mal stiffened. He looked at the wall, through it. Flashes of vision cycled through his mind. Faces. Friends and enemies. Pain, suffering, death. He remembered nights lying awake and thinking of those faces, and wondering… But that was not the way it worked out. He shook them away. “I’ve got a few that haunt me now and then,” he admitted very quietly. “Then I guess you probably know more about what she’s going through than I do.” “Conjure I might,” he said, but his expression was closed off. “It’s not going to be easy for her. She was there three years before I could break her out. I’ve seen what they’ve done to her, but I can’t imagine what three years of torture…” he broke off. He did not want to speculate on that path. “She loves this ship, Mal. She loves this crew. It’s her family now. It’s our family,” he added after a moment’s hesitation. A rare glint of emotion filtered through his words. “She’ll need our support.” Mal’s face softened as he listened. He nodded, but kept his thoughts to himself. “Well, get some rest, Doc,” was all Mal offered as he left the infirmary. Climbing the stairs, he confronted his warring thoughts. Their little discussion had stirred up some dark corners of his mind, things he had tried hard to forget, or at least to live with. Still, his had been a choice. He volunteered for the war. River was not given a choice. He did not think he wanted to know what she had endured. He found a quiet fury building at the Alliance for what it had done to her. Shaking his head, he descended the ladder and closed the door.