Disclaimer: All characters belong to Joss Whedon, except for Amos Sanders, General Liu, David, and Darielle, who are mine. Mainly because I haven't the courage to stick in a Mary Sue. Also because Joss is awesome. Will continue to live vicariously through Mal. *******************************

Note: Diplomatic Immunity, plus Our Co-Pilot Tam, is now my NanoWrimo submission.

******************************* This is Chapter 11 of the story that began here:

Part 1

and continued here:

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5 Part 6

Part 7

Part 8 Part 9 Part 10

and is a continuation of Our Co-Pilot Tam, which can be found here *************************************

Mal loaded another stack of rubble onto the back of the mule and turned back to digging. The whole house was a field of debris, except for one corner. Already they'd almost cleared the living room, down to the beginnings of the foundation, moving shattered, formerly priceless furniture and charred bits of the once-thick roof beams, and were moving on to what was left of the kitchen. “Whew,” he said to Jayne, as the mercenary struggled with the shards of a door. “Three days of this makes a man wish someone was shooting at him.” Jayne just nodded and dumped the shards in the back of the mule. “Not much chance of that, with those feds around,” he said, gesturing to the half-dozen armored troopers standing by the driveway. “It's a strange feeling,” Mal said, “Being protected by them after six years of shooting at them and another six running.” Zoe emerged from Serenity, holding a sourcebox, and made her way over to the laboring men. “Hey Mal,” she asked, “What do we know about Admiral Liu?” “Aside from his current adventures in potential outlawry, hmm...” Mal said, setting his load down. “He was one of the good ones, I recall. Dropped bombs on us at Du-Khang, later ran the prison camp on Patroclus. Prisoners died there at half the average rate. Why?” “Would you join his army?” Zoe asked. “What?” Mal replied. Zoe leaned on the railing of the mule and pressed a few buttons on the box. “Just got a pretty odd message from Monty, thought you might want to take a look.” She turned up the volume and pressed play. “No visuals,” she added. “Came from too far out.” The smuggler's voice came through the box. “Hello there, Mal,” he said. “Hello, Zoe. I just wanted to get your opinion on a very strange message I received from certain folk I know, if you know what I mean.” “What's he mean?” Jayne asked, coming over to listen. Zoe stopped the playback. “Browncoats,” she explained. “Who think the war ain't over.” “Didn't figure Monty for one of those,” Jayne said. “He's not,” Zoe continued. “Friends with some, though.” She pressed play again. “Here, I'll play it for you and you can see for yourself,” Monty continued. The recording became staticky and quieter, the voice nearly a whisper. “Brown Sun,” it began. “Diomedes at the end of your run. This may be real.” There was a cut, and a different voice began. “Fighting thirty-seventh. It's going to blow. Be there to watch. Diomedes, four days.” After several more of these messages, a clearer one came on. “This is a warning to Parliament. Parliament is attempting to shut me out with illegal, illegitimate political tricks. They have illegally removed me from command, placing Boros under the threat of more Reaver attacks. I will not stand for this interference. I refuse to relinquish my command until the danger has passed, and I call on all responsible soldiers of the Alliance to join me on this mission. And I warn Parliament—any effort to remove me by force will be met by force. In four days, the citizens of Ariel will show what they think of the illegal actions of Parliament.” Monty's voice came back. “I'm figuring they want more than front-row seats for the Alliance cracking up. I'm inclined to go and watch myself, but some of these folks'll come ready to fight.” Zoe paused the recording again. “What do you think, Sergeant? Do we march?” “Gorramit,” Mal replied. “This is why I don't associate with those folk. The war's over, 'less you've got your head so far up your pi-gu all you see is brown.” “Thought you'd feel that way,” Zoe added. “Besides,” Mal said, “Last time we were on Diomedes I didn't have any fun.” “What happened there?” Jayne asked. Mal shrugged. “Got court-martialed.” “Court-martialed? You?” Jayne said in mock amazement. “Yep,” Mal explained. “Battle of Boros, our platoon ran across General Tsai, on our side, trying to have his way with a female prisoner. So I gave him one in the jaw.” “Did you take over for him?” Jayne asked. “What do you think?” Mal shot back. “I would've,” said Jayne. “It was Yo-saf-bridge,” Zoe interjected. “Her?” said Jayne. “Guay.” “Of course, she wasn't the bu hway-hun de pu-fu we know and wish we could kill today,” Mal said. “What with being thirteen and all.” “Oh,” Jayne said. “Anyway,” Mal continued, “We were pulling out at the time, since the paratroops had failed to take the airfield, and soon as we got to the staging area on Diomedes they busted me back down to private.” He turned back to look up at Zoe. “I'm inclined to agree with Monty that the situation could get ugly.” “Do you really think they're going to fight with Liu?” Zoe asked. Mal nodded gravely. “You saw Tracy and Declan. Plenty folk are lost without the colors. Give Liu a couple victories, and if he stays popular at home he's got some allies. None of them will fight under his command, but they'll take his munitions and play hell with the local Feds on their own.” Zoe sighed. “They can't hope to win. Liu's support on Ariel will dry up with the first shot, and he won't keep his soldiers. Not to mention him starting out outnumbered ten to one. They're all going to die.” “And take two worlds with them,” Mal concurred. “Do we go stop them?” said Zoe. Mal looked around at the ruins of the Tam mansion. “Better'n sitting around here.”

*************************************************

Dinner was a raucous affair, with Gabriel still downtown at the courthouse. There were real steaks provided and grilled by Amos, a salad with fresh tomatoes and dressing, and bao prepared by Alexandra under Zoe's watchful eyes. Kaylee passed around the last of the most recent batch of Chateau Serenity engine-fermented wine, and Jayne played a haunting old song while Inara sang as the food was passed 'round. “Pretty song,” Kaylee said as Inara finished. “What's it called?” “The Skye Boat Song,” Inara explained. “Seems appropriate,” said Mal, “Seeing as we're on a boat...that goes through the sky...” “Skye was a place on Earth-that-was,” Inara said, laughing. “I knew that,” Mal replied. Jayne cut a piece off his steak and ate it with a grin. “Now this is the kind of protein worth eating!” Alexandra stepped around the shelf and demurely placed her dish of bao in the middle of the table, then returned to the kitchen, shaking her hips slightly. “Never quits, does she?” said Zoe. Jayne watched her go, appreciatively, then asked Mal in a whisper, “What's she still doing here, anyway?” “Got a brilliant plan,” Mal said. “Inara helped. I'll tell you after dinner.” Mal finished his dinner early and watched the rest of the crew eat. Their conversation washed over him like healing balm—talk of old escapades they'd been through together, reminiscences of old quarrels long since forgiven, description of events from their pasts before they'd joined. Even Jayne and the Tams were on better terms now, Simon joking about how Jayne had knocked sense into him when he'd decked him in the Alders' library, and Jayne responding like Kaylee's protective big brother, albeit a crude, vulgar one. Kaylee persuaded Inara to tell a few very general tales about life in the training house, and the Companion pretended to blush at the secrets she could not reveal. Alexandra sat on Mal's left, between River and Zoe, avoiding Inara's gaze but quietly accepting compliments on her bao and giving a sharp, but witty reply when Kaylee ate a piece and pretended to collapse into her plate, then even laughing when Simon kissed the ensuing gravy stain off Kaylee's nose. It took effort now to notice the long white scar on her face, she acted so naturally. Amos, the other new addition, gave as good as he got, spinning tales of his and Simon's old adventures that made Simon blush and Kaylee grin, and managing to draw Jayne into a discussion about farming, and made River laugh several times. Zoe engaged in as little of the banter as he did, though, as if both could see the ghosts of Wash and Book hovering over the table. No, it would never be the same, whatever peace might reign among the crew. Wash had gone, but his dinosaurs remained; Book had, perhaps, left a bit of his God behind. Finally, as the food ran low and the conversation grew tired, Mal caught Zoe and Inara's eyes, and rose, tapping on his mug. “I've got words,” he said as the others turned to look up at him. “Most of you all weren't Browncoats. Some of you supported unification,” his eyes took in Simon, Amos, and Inara. “Some didn't care much one way or another,” he said, turning to Kaylee and Jayne. “And some of you got caught pretty deep,” he added, tousling River's hair and reluctantly nodding to Alexandra. “But you've all, well, most of you, sailed with me and Zoe, who were the brownest Browncoats you could find.” He paused, looking to Zoe as she stood up. “That was six years ago. I've said the war's over now, more times than I fired my gun in the war. But there's some that don't believe it, some that would fight it again 'cause that's all they know. Now I'll brawl with the best of will, with any what knock the color of my coat, but a shooting war's a different matter.” He breathed deeply. “You all watched the newsfeed before dinner, about Admiral Liu's bit of fong-luh-de over at Boros and Ariel. What you might not know is that some of the folks I spoke of are coming to the moons of Boros looking to use this occasion to get their fix of fighting. I don't know what they're thinking--they must've forgotten what the war was like, the last six years.” He crossed his arms. “I mean to stop them. Save them from themselves.” The crew was quiet. Finally, Kaylee broke the silence, asking “How do you plan to do that?” “Sheer force of reason,” said Mal. “And a bit of chicanery. Zoe?” Zoe cleared her throat. “Fifty thousand people in the same place all thinking the same have a kind of momentum. We won't have a chance of calming them down, but we can give them some new ideas. The Browncoats don't have the equipment anymore, to go toe-to-toe with the Allied Forces, Liu isn't going to give it them, and none of them would take his orders if he did. So we're looking at thousands of raiders and boarding parties, armed with hand weapons Liu 'liberates' from the arsenals on Boros. Leastways, if the weapons get to the moons. We capture that shipment, they don't fight.” “And we've got uses for those weapons,” added Mal. “Friends to arm, to help us on the next stage. Inara?” Inara rose, adjusting her dress, and began. “I think we can assume that Liu will be elected, legitimately or not. He wouldn't risk something like this if he wasn't confident of that. He has powerful friends, other impeached Parliamentarians, people who like his policies, certainly the Academy, and probably the Blue Sun. Once the shooting war begins, he won't be able to go back. He'll stay defiant as long as he can, hoping his friends can turn the tables for him, even if it comes to a shooting war on Ariel and Boros themselves. The only way to stop that for sure is by removing him from command. That task is certainly beyond one small Firefly, but we have with us an extremely capable operative.” Mal smiled broadly at Inara, while the rest of the table stared, confused, except for River, who winked at Alexandra. Alexandra expertly pretended to stifle surprise, and answered, “And why would I agree to do this for you?” “Smuggler captains are bush league marks,” replied Mal. “Don't you want to go back to rooking powerful Alliance men? I know you can do it.” “Besides,” added Inara, “If Boros stays in the Alliance, you'll get paid more than you've seen since you left Durran Haymer...if you wish to.” “It's the heist of your dreams,” continued Mal. “Stealing an entire dreadnought and its crew. Beats an antique laser pistol that doesn't even work.” “Why are we still dealing with her?” Jayne asked. “She makes really good bao,” said Mal. “And Inara's right—none of us could do what she can.” “I'll do it,” said Alexandra. “This will be fun. Won't be hard either, soldiers are all berks.” River smiled eerily at her. “I'll be watching your every move, you know.” “Maybe you can pick up some pointers to use on my husband,” Alexandra replied, laughing, then quieted in the face of River's darkening glare. “Excellent,” Mal said. “Zoe, wave Monty and say we're coming. Kaylee, make sure the ship's in order. Jayne, you and I'll take the mule into town to provision.” Simon raised his hand. “What about me? I've got Parliament to run for.” “I'll go,” said Amos. “I'm not the brilliant trauma surgeon Simon is, but I'm no slouch. And it's not like I've got anything to do here for the moment.” “That's not quite what I meant,” Simon said, turning to look at Kaylee. “I'll be okay,” she said. “Will you?” “I'll live,” he said after a moment. “Not for too long, though. Mal, you bring her back in good condition, you hear?” “With this ship, Kaylee gets hurt, no one comes back,” Mal joked. Simon turned to Amos. “Are you sure about this?” he asked. “Let me give you a tour of the infirmary, and I'll tell you what I've been doing for River. If you need any supplies--” Amos rested a hand on his shoulder. “I'm the brain surgeon here. It'll be all right, dong ma? You work on the politics, you rogue.” “What about bodyguards?” Inara asked. “Since you and Zoe and Jayne are going.” “I never said I was going with that po-fu,” said Jayne. “Relax, it'll be fine,” said Alexandra. “I won't beat you up again. In fact, you might be pleasantly surprised.” Expressions of interest and repulsion warred on Jayne's face and he fell silent. “You don't have to go if you don't want,” Mal said, “Or if you'd rather stop the Academy's next move.” “They will be coming again,” Inara added. “Their attacks three days ago knocked out seven candidates, and there are only fifteen left.” “We've got the feds now,” Simon said. “Guay, ain't I worth a score of feds?” Jayne replied. “I killed a Blue Hand all by myself.” “Thanks, but I'll be fine,” said Simon. “Then I'm going,” decided Jayne. “Can't let the po-fu grab all the ruttin' glory.” Alexandra favored him with a dazzling smile. “You're asking for a knifing in your bunk, you know.” “That ain't what I want in my bunk,” Jayne replied. Mal waved his hands between the two. “No more talking about Jayne's bunk. We've got work to do. Let's get to it.” He picked up his dishes and placed them in the sink, then descended the stairs and lowered the mule.