Firefly Season 2 Pilot: Unlikely Bedfellows

I feel I have to apologise for what I’m going to do to Mal in this fic. But the idea just crept up on me while I was writing, and I couldn’t resist it. I’m evil. Shoot me.

Prologue

The Parliamentary Chamber on Londinium was in session, and had been for nearly a day (25.4 hours, by the standard of Earth-That-Was). All was gleaming silver and blue, cameras and sensors everywhere, watchful guards at every entrance. The Parliament was, for once, in full session, every one of the dozens of seats occupied. A member leaned forward to address the holopickup: “Point of order, Madam Speaker.” “The Member for Ariel has the floor,” the Speaker announced. She was, she felt, rapidly losing the will to live, praying that someone would be sensible and ask the right questions so they could all go home. She was dying for a shower, a little fresh fruit and some hot sex with her husband and wife, not necessarily in that order...or separately, for that matter. The Member stood, as did her enlarged holographic image projected into the centre of the Chamber. “Madam Speaker, there have been demands for Parliament to be recalled, and it may be that the idea has a degree of merit. However, I feel it is pointless to blame the many for the actions of the few. I therefore call for an independent committee to investigate these terrible allegations and to determine, above all, the truth. Who recommended the use of the Pax? Was it fully tested before use, and how was this done? Was there not an alternative? “And why was it done? Was this perhaps a pernicious example of the very notion over which the Independents went to war, namely that it is not possible to change human nature by coercion, legislation or chemistry, however much some might wish it so? Is it possible that the Independents were, in fact, right? And on those planets which have always been, shall we say, uneasy under Alliance rule, the question their people are asking is: are we next?” The Chamber erupted in uproar. It took the Speaker nearly five minutes to restore a semblance of order (while cheering inside: “At last!”). Finally, the Member for Osiris stood. “Point of information, Madam Speaker.” “Member for Osiris has the floor.” “How can we know that the wave was even genuine? I am in possession of certain information which suggests it was transmitted by one Malcolm Reynolds, who formerly served with the 57th Overlanders of the Independent Army. Indeed, he fought in the Battle of Serenity Valley...some might recognise his name as the Last Man Standing.” They did indeed. The Chamber went quiet. “Perhaps, for him, the war is not over. Perhaps he wished to embarrass the Parliament against whom he fought so long and determinedly. Or worse, perhaps he intended the wave as a rallying call to all the former Browncoats - to reignite the war!” Again, an uproar. (“Oh, no, don’t do this to me...”) This time the Member for Persephone stood…and stood, for he was two metres in height and not slightly built with it. He hardly needed the audio amplification: “Point of information! Ni zhè gāisi de gēgē de jiào hóuzi, I WILL BE HEARD!” “Order! ORDER! The Member for Persephone has the floor!” “Thank you, Madam Speaker. Information encoded in the wave at the time of the recording confirms the date, time and astral location, as well as the identity of the woman who recorded it, one Dr. Natalie Caron, who was assigned as the senior officer aboard Research & Rescue Vessel C57D. It was recorded in real time, and analysis of the wave characteristics proves that it was a first-generation recording. The conclusion is that the wave was genuine and transmitted using the original source media...which means the questions posed by our esteemed colleague from Ariel are still relevant.” “Didn’t Persephone support the Independents?” a voice called out slyly. “Order! You are out of order! Member for Persephone has not yielded the floor!” “And I shall not,” he growled, “until I have spoken my piece! May I point out to the Member that I was not Persephone’s representative at the time? Irrelevant in any case! The questions stand: what happened? Who was responsible? What action are we as a Parliament going to take?” “The Speaker is constrained to point out,” Madam Speaker stated tiredly, feeling - as she too often did - a sense of doom and futility, since they seemed to have come full circle and not actually gotten anywhere, “that those are exactly the questions which this session is supposed to answer! Given the lateness of the hour,” and the fact that I can’t take much more of this, she added silently to herself, oh, how I hate my job, “I call one hour’s recess.”

An hour later, things had calmed down...a bit. The decision was taken to appoint a committee of three - one to represent the Alliance, one for the midworlds, one for the outer planets - to investigate the matter. One suggestion from the Member for Persephone was passed by a bare majority: to retain the services of someone who had local knowledge of Miranda, and who was not part of the Alliance, to defeat any accusations of pro-Alliance favouritism in the investigation. Unfortunately, there was of course only one possible candidate...