Big Damn Dog
Nov. 24th, 2011 05:48 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lit_galI can't believe how much better my shoulder feels after having a day truly off. The college class is done (I got an A on that paper y'all helped with), no school today, and I actually felt good enough to do some typing. Oh, and Shakatany... you remember how I was complaining that my Dragon Dictate program seemed to have lost its mind and wasn't working? Mom informs me that it's my fault. According to her, it takes very little in terms of pain pills for me to start slurring my words. Good to know I'm a narcotics light-weight who can never get away with taking drugs in public. God I hate pills.
Anyway... LOOK WHAT I HAVE!
Big Damn Dog
It's time for Shepherd Book to come clean about a few things... even if it's only in his own head.
Pairing: Mal/Jayne (off-screen Inara/Nandi)
Rating: Adult
Previous chapters in reverse order: http://lit-gal.livejournal.com/tag/f
Chapter 11
Shepherd Book sighed, not enjoying the suspicion with which his shipmates considered him. He had suffered the slings and arrows of distrust in his past; he had no interest in repeating the experience, and yet... Yet here he was, getting glared at by Malcolm Reynolds, a man with his own moral failings to account for. It was the Lord's way of making sure that he didn't forget the sins which had plagued his own youth. The Lord might forgive, but He never forgot, and He had a truly viscous sense of humor.
"Wait. So you were some sort of super spy, ninja, government type?" Wash's disbelief was like a balm to Derrial's soul. Shepherd Derrial Book was not the sort of man to kill in the name of government, but then he had not always been Derrial Book.
"Ain't like he don't know which end of a gun to hold," Jayne pointed out. Derrial couldn't decide if that was an insult or a compliment. From Jayne, one could hardly tell.
"My past is an issue best left to the past," he said, not denying anything. He would not bear false witness, even if it would be safer for all of them if he could disabuse them of this belief he had been Special Service.
"That'd be good, only it seems like your past is looking to smack us all upside the head," Mal pointed out. "River keeps coming up with all sorts of reasons for thinking you're in the middle of whatever mess we're flying at. I don't think I have to point out how much I hate flying blind."
Derrial suspected Mal was more short tempered than usual because Inara had chosen to stay with her friend. Jayne might be putting out every sign of loyalty, but Derrial couldn't imagine Mal giving up his interest in Inara so easily. Men like Mal... like him... had trouble changing loyalty. Derrial had taken three years in a monastery before he'd found the strength to relinquish his obligation to the government and embrace his role as a shepherd of the Lord.
But now… maybe his stubbornness was blinding him to a reality River Tam could see more clearly. The Lord’s plan had allowed some frightful atrocities to be visited upon her, but the Lord always had His reasons. That didn’t mean Derrial knew them.
"If I thought you were in danger, I would leave,” he said slowly. “If you believe that my past is casting any sort of shadow on our voyage, perhaps it would be best if I did. There is a wonderful little colony that has asked me to join them. They hope to start a society built on the best of humanity, and I have given serious consideration to joining them." The fact was that he liked the idea of giving up wandering in favor of tending to a settlement—watching children being born into the world and being there to see them grow. He’d been thinking on that more and more lately, so maybe this was the Lord’s way of encouraging him to move on.
"Red, red, rivers flowing like rotten flowers," River said as she in the corner, her arms wrapped around her knees so that she looked like a little girl, lost and seeking shelter from some storm.
"Seems like River doesn't like that idea," Mal pointed out.
"So it seems." Derrial gave the girl a weary look. He had left the government long before the scientists had created her, but he had heard whispers of rumors, faint traces by men too scared to even tell tales, and he could guess what they had done. He never assumed that her visions were true madness. River's eyes found him, and Derrial turned his mind back to that colony he'd been considering joining.
"Blood and blood. Red on red," River muttered.
"Ain't like you're adding anything helpfullike," Jayne complained.
Mal gave the man an unhappy glare, but he failed to verbally castigate the man the way he might have once upon a time. Derrial just hoped that these shifting relationships didn't end up leaving Jayne even more isolated because the man was far more dangerous than Mal seemed to give him credit. Special Service was full of men like Jayne--men who followed without every questioning where their leaders sent them. Men like Jayne had finally convinced Derrial that he had to brake from the group. Mal... his sort might set atrocities in motion with this blind devotion to a cause, but they were capable of recognizing their own faults, too. Jayne's sort went out and destroyed the world to carry out their orders blindly. It wasn’t that they intentionally committed evil—they simply didn’t see it.
"I don't doubt that River has many an unhappy thought in her head if she's digging through my less than stellar past," Derrial said slowly, feeling his way through the words. "However, my past is unlikely to every haunt us. If I thought that I would bring hostile attention to the group, I would have never stayed so long." When he had left the service and begun life as Derrial Book, he had given the Service a full psychological profile, and he knew what that profile said. As David Evault, he had committed enough sins of his own that he could hardly throw stones at others. More than that, the schemes of which he was privy were all old and past, and bringing them to light would likely hurt more people with no real benefit. Miranda had been the last mission he'd gone on--and he'd walked away from the Service before that had gone spectacularly wrong, proving once again that the Lord would not tolerate the arrogance of man.
Before anyone could comment on Derrial's suggestion, River began screaming, her voice splintering the air and echoing against the metal skin of the Serenity.
"Gorram Moonbrain! Either point out something I can shoot or shut up," Jayne bellowed, his voice rising above the din where Wash's and Zoe's were lost under River's shrill screams.
River fell silent so fast that the others continued to shout for a moment before they too fell silent, confused looks traveling between them.
"Mei, mei," Simon said as he moved closer to his sister with the care a man used to approach a wild animal, "we should go back to our rooms."
"3335-P9 changing, changing. New variables, intel no longer reliable given the configuration of new associations."
Derrial felt his blood turn cold. Up to that point, he would have called that hyperbole a pretty turn of phrase, but hearing that number, the code for a threat assessment on a person of interest, he felt the cold seep into his flesh. He had sat before he even realized his knees were giving out.
"Seems like that means something to the shepherd," Jayne commented.
Derrial could feel warm hands on his arm. "Shepherd, you okay?" Kaylee asked, but he couldn't form the words to give her an answer.
"3335-P9 changing. New tactics recommended. Activating the Operative." River whispered the words, and he might have never heard them except that the room had fallen oppressively silent.
Derrial lost track of time somewhere because all of a sudden Kaylee was there, bending over him with a concerned look, her hands warm against his cold arm. "Shepherd Book, are you okay? You're looking mighty green."
Derrial tried to smile--tried to reassure her, but the fact was that they were all in trouble if the Alliance had decided to come after then with the Operative. The man was a soldier who had volunteered for enhancement. At the time, Derrial had been uncomfortable, but he had brushed aside his fears and ethical qualms as groundless. It was only after he'd seen the horror of Miranda that he'd seen that humanity had no business tampering in the affairs of the Lord.
"You're making me downright discomforted, preacher," Mal observed, not that Derrial had any words of comfort, not this time.
“Why would the 3335-P9 change now? I haven’t—” Derrial stopped. He hadn’t contacted any government agents, but one government agent had contacted him. He looked over to where River was still hugging her knees. One very dangerous government agent had contacted him. This truly was turning into a fine mess.
“Is someone going to start explaining some of this to me?” Mal demanded. He stepped forward into Derrial’s space, and Kaylee skittered away, her eyes wide. Derrial truly couldn’t blame Mal, not one little bit.
“It’d be better if I didn’t.” If Derrial wanted to fix this, he needed Mal to stay out of it. As much as he understood Mal—even respected him—the man wasn’t the one to try and finesse the government. Now if Derrial wanted to start a nuclear war, he might turn to Mal for that. He was unsubtle in a way that few people would every aspire to.
“I don’t much care what you think, Shepherd. This is my ship.”
Derrial stood up and faced Mal with as much calm as he could muster. “This is a matter I need to take care of.”
“Voices… voices… screaming in the dark,” River muttered. Derrial glanced over, and she was rocking back and forth. At one point, Derrial had told the crew that Reavers were men who had stared too long into the dark. The fact was, they were the victims of those who had stared into the dark and who had started believing that their inability to see God meant that He wasn’t there. As much as it seemed unlikely, Reavers were the first victims, and all the other deaths that came after were just a natural consequence of man’s foolishness… of science’s foolishness. The great scientists who had moved to Miranda had tested their theory that they could make people compliant—peaceful. They’d medicated a planet, and the results proved that humanity was not as wise as it liked to pretend. It was the Alliance’s greatest secret.
If telling the ‘verse about that horror would serve any purpose, Derrial would have told his tale. Actually, David Evault, the Special Services’ officer, would have told his tale and Derrial Book never would have come into existence. However, the Alliance was unlikely to ever repeat that mistake, and there was no way to undo the damage they had done. People who knew their families had emigrated to Miranda deserved a chance to live in peace without wondering if one of their loved ones had turned Reaver after being dosed with some Alliance drug.
“Shepherd Book, I would mightily appreciate it if you could just stop being such a closed-mouth hwun dan for one second and tell me what the guay is going on.” Mal crossed his arms and gave every impression of being the immoveable object, and now Jayne moved to a spot at Mal’s shoulder.
“If the government thinks you’re going to spill the beans, so to speak, they are likely to take drastic action,” Derrial pointed out. “I just need to find someone to talk some sense into them before they decide to do anything too drastic.”
“Scorched earth!” River sang from her spot on the floor.
“Cao ni zu zong shi ba dai,” Zoe snarled. Normally she wasn’t the one to use profanity, but if River was right about the government using a scorched earth policy, she had good cause.
“What?” Simon asked, seeming so young and bewildered as he looked around at the others. Apparently he was the only one on the Serenity who didn’t know the term.
“Scorched earth,” Zoe said when it seemed like Mal wasn’t going to answer. “It’s a military strategy of burning every resource and ally to drive your prey onto open ground. If the government is planning on using it against us, every trader who’s ever touched our goods is a target. Kaylee, start getting folks on the wave. Tell ‘em we’re hearing rumors that we have big trouble on our tails, and the trouble is likely to go for allies first.”
“I’ll start looking for new bolt-holes,” Wash offered, all humor gone now that they had a mission.
A mission. Derrial wanted to laugh at the ridiculousness of it. The whole ship was in danger. Everyone Malcolm Reynolds ever knew was in danger. All because the government was afraid of a man who had kept his mouth shut for twenty years and a girl who couldn’t get five words in order long enough to get anyone to believe her. And worse, there was no way to strike back. The government was the ultimate hydra—a monster that simply grew new heads for each that you cut off.
“If they’re coming, that’s not a solution,” he pointed out.
“It’s better than doing nothing.” Mal’s temper was fraying badly, and Derrial could see Jayne getting more edgy with him. Jayne might not be the best thinker, but it did seem as if he was more than ready to shoot whatever was making Mal so mighty unhappy. “Shi. Inara,” Mal cursed as he shouted after her. She’s headed up toward the bridge with the others. “Zoe, get on the line to Nandi’s place and warn ‘em. If trouble is coming for us, that’s a good place to start.”
“We going back?” Jayne asked. He almost looked excited at the thought of getting to shoot it out, but if the government had sent or was planning to send the Operative, Jayne wouldn’t survive long enough to enjoy the fight. Derrial looked over at River and wondered if she could take the other man. Maybe. Then again, it depended on how long she could grasp reality, and sometimes that was a very short window.
“Are we, preacher?” Mal asked. Derrial met Mal’s gaze—warrior to warrior. It did seem as if David Evault was not as dead as Derrial had thought. Tactics and strategies were already forming… plans that had no business in a shepherd’s mind.
“I need to make contact with a couple of operatives, convince them that this is a rash decision likely to backfire badly.”
Mal snorted. “Ain’t like the government is known for making reasonable decisions. So, you go and talk to them, and what? They decide to just leave us be?”
Derrial sighed. He wished it would be that easy. “It might be I could help change their minds about how to interpret certain data or offer alternative threat mitigation plans.”
“Huh?” Jayne frowned.
“He thinks he can go making them feel safe from us so they don’t feel a need to go killing us,” Mal translated.
“Why do they need to kill us?” Simon looked truly confused.
“Because they feel threatened,” Derrial offered. Hopefully Kaylee and Zoe would issue warnings before the killing started, but that wouldn’t be enough. Derrial understood that. Then again, Derrial was the only one who did have all the information.
“Whispers, whispers.” River laid her cheek on her knee.
Derrial went over to kneel down next to her. “I wish I knew how to stop those whispers,” he confessed.
She lifted her head and stared at him, her gaze steady. Slowly, she reached out to him. “Reality split. What they assume doesn’t match reality and the cognitive dissonance like little cracks that allow all the screams into my mind.”
Derrial sighed. He could make assumptions or guesses about what any of that meant, but he couldn’t know for sure.
“Mei, mei, we can get you some medicine. It will make your head feel better,” Simon offered, his voice soft and soothing.
“Screams still scream. Pills only make the sound echo from far away. Reality buried under word-dirt.” River sounded so weary, so soul-worn that the shepherd in Derrial wanted to sit with her and promise the Lord’s protection to such a lost little girl. But right now, these people didn’t need Shepherd Derrial Book nearly as much as they needed Special Services Officer David Evault.
He stood and turned to face Mal. “I need transportation to Verbena,” Derrial said.
Mal physically jerked—that’s how much Derrial had surprised him. “Verbena? That ain’t exactly save territory, preacher.”
Derrial smiled. “Yes, I know. It’s a former Independence stronghold that the Alliance used for military resupplying. Terrorism has plagued the world for years, and strangers often end up either dead or in an Alliance prison. I am well acquainted with the world.” He didn’t point out that he was assigned to Verbena for a short time after he’d filed a formal protest about the Miranda situation. They’d sent him there to determine whether Verbena would support the rebellion. He knew more about crime and smuggling and politics on that planet than anyone else alive. He still kept up with old contacts. Spies never did totally disconnect to their carefully built networks, and part of Derrial had always felt like Verbena was a sort of home. Hell, some days Derrial thought of Verbena as his gravesite—the place where David Evault died and the man of God Derrial Book was born in a monastery outside Central City.
Pushing those thoughts aside, Derrial said, “I need to find a man and convince him to help me change the government’s mind, assuming that River is right about them sending the Operative after us.”
“I am,” River offered. Her brother hushed her. The boy was a naïve fool who seemed intent on ignoring the fact that his sister’s ramblings were more insightful than true madness.
“Mal?” Jayne asked.
Mal frowned as he took his own sweet time answering. “I’m thinking on it.”
“Have Wash set a course while you’re thinking because I suspect we don’t have much time,” Derrial suggested. If the service had reconsidered their threat assessments and determined that Derrial would give Mal information or that River was sane enough to tell him what had happened on Miranda, they would stop at nothing to destroy the Serenity. Derrial knew that. He wasn’t quite as sure how to stop this, but he’d learned to trust the Lord and keep a good knife handy—those two rules had gotten him through a lot of years so far, and he could only trust them to get him through this mess. Or to get the others safe before he died. Going to Verbena, he had to admit there was a good chance he was going to die. And this time, he doubted that he’d be reborn in a monastery.
Anyway... LOOK WHAT I HAVE!
Big Damn DogIt's time for Shepherd Book to come clean about a few things... even if it's only in his own head.
Pairing: Mal/Jayne (off-screen Inara/Nandi)
Rating: Adult
Previous chapters in reverse order: http://lit-gal.livejournal.com/tag/f
Chapter 11
Shepherd Book sighed, not enjoying the suspicion with which his shipmates considered him. He had suffered the slings and arrows of distrust in his past; he had no interest in repeating the experience, and yet... Yet here he was, getting glared at by Malcolm Reynolds, a man with his own moral failings to account for. It was the Lord's way of making sure that he didn't forget the sins which had plagued his own youth. The Lord might forgive, but He never forgot, and He had a truly viscous sense of humor.
"Wait. So you were some sort of super spy, ninja, government type?" Wash's disbelief was like a balm to Derrial's soul. Shepherd Derrial Book was not the sort of man to kill in the name of government, but then he had not always been Derrial Book.
"Ain't like he don't know which end of a gun to hold," Jayne pointed out. Derrial couldn't decide if that was an insult or a compliment. From Jayne, one could hardly tell.
"My past is an issue best left to the past," he said, not denying anything. He would not bear false witness, even if it would be safer for all of them if he could disabuse them of this belief he had been Special Service.
"That'd be good, only it seems like your past is looking to smack us all upside the head," Mal pointed out. "River keeps coming up with all sorts of reasons for thinking you're in the middle of whatever mess we're flying at. I don't think I have to point out how much I hate flying blind."
Derrial suspected Mal was more short tempered than usual because Inara had chosen to stay with her friend. Jayne might be putting out every sign of loyalty, but Derrial couldn't imagine Mal giving up his interest in Inara so easily. Men like Mal... like him... had trouble changing loyalty. Derrial had taken three years in a monastery before he'd found the strength to relinquish his obligation to the government and embrace his role as a shepherd of the Lord.
But now… maybe his stubbornness was blinding him to a reality River Tam could see more clearly. The Lord’s plan had allowed some frightful atrocities to be visited upon her, but the Lord always had His reasons. That didn’t mean Derrial knew them.
"If I thought you were in danger, I would leave,” he said slowly. “If you believe that my past is casting any sort of shadow on our voyage, perhaps it would be best if I did. There is a wonderful little colony that has asked me to join them. They hope to start a society built on the best of humanity, and I have given serious consideration to joining them." The fact was that he liked the idea of giving up wandering in favor of tending to a settlement—watching children being born into the world and being there to see them grow. He’d been thinking on that more and more lately, so maybe this was the Lord’s way of encouraging him to move on.
"Red, red, rivers flowing like rotten flowers," River said as she in the corner, her arms wrapped around her knees so that she looked like a little girl, lost and seeking shelter from some storm.
"Seems like River doesn't like that idea," Mal pointed out.
"So it seems." Derrial gave the girl a weary look. He had left the government long before the scientists had created her, but he had heard whispers of rumors, faint traces by men too scared to even tell tales, and he could guess what they had done. He never assumed that her visions were true madness. River's eyes found him, and Derrial turned his mind back to that colony he'd been considering joining.
"Blood and blood. Red on red," River muttered.
"Ain't like you're adding anything helpfullike," Jayne complained.
Mal gave the man an unhappy glare, but he failed to verbally castigate the man the way he might have once upon a time. Derrial just hoped that these shifting relationships didn't end up leaving Jayne even more isolated because the man was far more dangerous than Mal seemed to give him credit. Special Service was full of men like Jayne--men who followed without every questioning where their leaders sent them. Men like Jayne had finally convinced Derrial that he had to brake from the group. Mal... his sort might set atrocities in motion with this blind devotion to a cause, but they were capable of recognizing their own faults, too. Jayne's sort went out and destroyed the world to carry out their orders blindly. It wasn’t that they intentionally committed evil—they simply didn’t see it.
"I don't doubt that River has many an unhappy thought in her head if she's digging through my less than stellar past," Derrial said slowly, feeling his way through the words. "However, my past is unlikely to every haunt us. If I thought that I would bring hostile attention to the group, I would have never stayed so long." When he had left the service and begun life as Derrial Book, he had given the Service a full psychological profile, and he knew what that profile said. As David Evault, he had committed enough sins of his own that he could hardly throw stones at others. More than that, the schemes of which he was privy were all old and past, and bringing them to light would likely hurt more people with no real benefit. Miranda had been the last mission he'd gone on--and he'd walked away from the Service before that had gone spectacularly wrong, proving once again that the Lord would not tolerate the arrogance of man.
Before anyone could comment on Derrial's suggestion, River began screaming, her voice splintering the air and echoing against the metal skin of the Serenity.
"Gorram Moonbrain! Either point out something I can shoot or shut up," Jayne bellowed, his voice rising above the din where Wash's and Zoe's were lost under River's shrill screams.
River fell silent so fast that the others continued to shout for a moment before they too fell silent, confused looks traveling between them.
"Mei, mei," Simon said as he moved closer to his sister with the care a man used to approach a wild animal, "we should go back to our rooms."
"3335-P9 changing, changing. New variables, intel no longer reliable given the configuration of new associations."
Derrial felt his blood turn cold. Up to that point, he would have called that hyperbole a pretty turn of phrase, but hearing that number, the code for a threat assessment on a person of interest, he felt the cold seep into his flesh. He had sat before he even realized his knees were giving out.
"Seems like that means something to the shepherd," Jayne commented.
Derrial could feel warm hands on his arm. "Shepherd, you okay?" Kaylee asked, but he couldn't form the words to give her an answer.
"3335-P9 changing. New tactics recommended. Activating the Operative." River whispered the words, and he might have never heard them except that the room had fallen oppressively silent.
Derrial lost track of time somewhere because all of a sudden Kaylee was there, bending over him with a concerned look, her hands warm against his cold arm. "Shepherd Book, are you okay? You're looking mighty green."
Derrial tried to smile--tried to reassure her, but the fact was that they were all in trouble if the Alliance had decided to come after then with the Operative. The man was a soldier who had volunteered for enhancement. At the time, Derrial had been uncomfortable, but he had brushed aside his fears and ethical qualms as groundless. It was only after he'd seen the horror of Miranda that he'd seen that humanity had no business tampering in the affairs of the Lord.
"You're making me downright discomforted, preacher," Mal observed, not that Derrial had any words of comfort, not this time.
“Why would the 3335-P9 change now? I haven’t—” Derrial stopped. He hadn’t contacted any government agents, but one government agent had contacted him. He looked over to where River was still hugging her knees. One very dangerous government agent had contacted him. This truly was turning into a fine mess.
“Is someone going to start explaining some of this to me?” Mal demanded. He stepped forward into Derrial’s space, and Kaylee skittered away, her eyes wide. Derrial truly couldn’t blame Mal, not one little bit.
“It’d be better if I didn’t.” If Derrial wanted to fix this, he needed Mal to stay out of it. As much as he understood Mal—even respected him—the man wasn’t the one to try and finesse the government. Now if Derrial wanted to start a nuclear war, he might turn to Mal for that. He was unsubtle in a way that few people would every aspire to.
“I don’t much care what you think, Shepherd. This is my ship.”
Derrial stood up and faced Mal with as much calm as he could muster. “This is a matter I need to take care of.”
“Voices… voices… screaming in the dark,” River muttered. Derrial glanced over, and she was rocking back and forth. At one point, Derrial had told the crew that Reavers were men who had stared too long into the dark. The fact was, they were the victims of those who had stared into the dark and who had started believing that their inability to see God meant that He wasn’t there. As much as it seemed unlikely, Reavers were the first victims, and all the other deaths that came after were just a natural consequence of man’s foolishness… of science’s foolishness. The great scientists who had moved to Miranda had tested their theory that they could make people compliant—peaceful. They’d medicated a planet, and the results proved that humanity was not as wise as it liked to pretend. It was the Alliance’s greatest secret.
If telling the ‘verse about that horror would serve any purpose, Derrial would have told his tale. Actually, David Evault, the Special Services’ officer, would have told his tale and Derrial Book never would have come into existence. However, the Alliance was unlikely to ever repeat that mistake, and there was no way to undo the damage they had done. People who knew their families had emigrated to Miranda deserved a chance to live in peace without wondering if one of their loved ones had turned Reaver after being dosed with some Alliance drug.
“Shepherd Book, I would mightily appreciate it if you could just stop being such a closed-mouth hwun dan for one second and tell me what the guay is going on.” Mal crossed his arms and gave every impression of being the immoveable object, and now Jayne moved to a spot at Mal’s shoulder.
“If the government thinks you’re going to spill the beans, so to speak, they are likely to take drastic action,” Derrial pointed out. “I just need to find someone to talk some sense into them before they decide to do anything too drastic.”
“Scorched earth!” River sang from her spot on the floor.
“Cao ni zu zong shi ba dai,” Zoe snarled. Normally she wasn’t the one to use profanity, but if River was right about the government using a scorched earth policy, she had good cause.
“What?” Simon asked, seeming so young and bewildered as he looked around at the others. Apparently he was the only one on the Serenity who didn’t know the term.
“Scorched earth,” Zoe said when it seemed like Mal wasn’t going to answer. “It’s a military strategy of burning every resource and ally to drive your prey onto open ground. If the government is planning on using it against us, every trader who’s ever touched our goods is a target. Kaylee, start getting folks on the wave. Tell ‘em we’re hearing rumors that we have big trouble on our tails, and the trouble is likely to go for allies first.”
“I’ll start looking for new bolt-holes,” Wash offered, all humor gone now that they had a mission.
A mission. Derrial wanted to laugh at the ridiculousness of it. The whole ship was in danger. Everyone Malcolm Reynolds ever knew was in danger. All because the government was afraid of a man who had kept his mouth shut for twenty years and a girl who couldn’t get five words in order long enough to get anyone to believe her. And worse, there was no way to strike back. The government was the ultimate hydra—a monster that simply grew new heads for each that you cut off.
“If they’re coming, that’s not a solution,” he pointed out.
“It’s better than doing nothing.” Mal’s temper was fraying badly, and Derrial could see Jayne getting more edgy with him. Jayne might not be the best thinker, but it did seem as if he was more than ready to shoot whatever was making Mal so mighty unhappy. “Shi. Inara,” Mal cursed as he shouted after her. She’s headed up toward the bridge with the others. “Zoe, get on the line to Nandi’s place and warn ‘em. If trouble is coming for us, that’s a good place to start.”
“We going back?” Jayne asked. He almost looked excited at the thought of getting to shoot it out, but if the government had sent or was planning to send the Operative, Jayne wouldn’t survive long enough to enjoy the fight. Derrial looked over at River and wondered if she could take the other man. Maybe. Then again, it depended on how long she could grasp reality, and sometimes that was a very short window.
“Are we, preacher?” Mal asked. Derrial met Mal’s gaze—warrior to warrior. It did seem as if David Evault was not as dead as Derrial had thought. Tactics and strategies were already forming… plans that had no business in a shepherd’s mind.
“I need to make contact with a couple of operatives, convince them that this is a rash decision likely to backfire badly.”
Mal snorted. “Ain’t like the government is known for making reasonable decisions. So, you go and talk to them, and what? They decide to just leave us be?”
Derrial sighed. He wished it would be that easy. “It might be I could help change their minds about how to interpret certain data or offer alternative threat mitigation plans.”
“Huh?” Jayne frowned.
“He thinks he can go making them feel safe from us so they don’t feel a need to go killing us,” Mal translated.
“Why do they need to kill us?” Simon looked truly confused.
“Because they feel threatened,” Derrial offered. Hopefully Kaylee and Zoe would issue warnings before the killing started, but that wouldn’t be enough. Derrial understood that. Then again, Derrial was the only one who did have all the information.
“Whispers, whispers.” River laid her cheek on her knee.
Derrial went over to kneel down next to her. “I wish I knew how to stop those whispers,” he confessed.
She lifted her head and stared at him, her gaze steady. Slowly, she reached out to him. “Reality split. What they assume doesn’t match reality and the cognitive dissonance like little cracks that allow all the screams into my mind.”
Derrial sighed. He could make assumptions or guesses about what any of that meant, but he couldn’t know for sure.
“Mei, mei, we can get you some medicine. It will make your head feel better,” Simon offered, his voice soft and soothing.
“Screams still scream. Pills only make the sound echo from far away. Reality buried under word-dirt.” River sounded so weary, so soul-worn that the shepherd in Derrial wanted to sit with her and promise the Lord’s protection to such a lost little girl. But right now, these people didn’t need Shepherd Derrial Book nearly as much as they needed Special Services Officer David Evault.
He stood and turned to face Mal. “I need transportation to Verbena,” Derrial said.
Mal physically jerked—that’s how much Derrial had surprised him. “Verbena? That ain’t exactly save territory, preacher.”
Derrial smiled. “Yes, I know. It’s a former Independence stronghold that the Alliance used for military resupplying. Terrorism has plagued the world for years, and strangers often end up either dead or in an Alliance prison. I am well acquainted with the world.” He didn’t point out that he was assigned to Verbena for a short time after he’d filed a formal protest about the Miranda situation. They’d sent him there to determine whether Verbena would support the rebellion. He knew more about crime and smuggling and politics on that planet than anyone else alive. He still kept up with old contacts. Spies never did totally disconnect to their carefully built networks, and part of Derrial had always felt like Verbena was a sort of home. Hell, some days Derrial thought of Verbena as his gravesite—the place where David Evault died and the man of God Derrial Book was born in a monastery outside Central City.
Pushing those thoughts aside, Derrial said, “I need to find a man and convince him to help me change the government’s mind, assuming that River is right about them sending the Operative after us.”
“I am,” River offered. Her brother hushed her. The boy was a naïve fool who seemed intent on ignoring the fact that his sister’s ramblings were more insightful than true madness.
“Mal?” Jayne asked.
Mal frowned as he took his own sweet time answering. “I’m thinking on it.”
“Have Wash set a course while you’re thinking because I suspect we don’t have much time,” Derrial suggested. If the service had reconsidered their threat assessments and determined that Derrial would give Mal information or that River was sane enough to tell him what had happened on Miranda, they would stop at nothing to destroy the Serenity. Derrial knew that. He wasn’t quite as sure how to stop this, but he’d learned to trust the Lord and keep a good knife handy—those two rules had gotten him through a lot of years so far, and he could only trust them to get him through this mess. Or to get the others safe before he died. Going to Verbena, he had to admit there was a good chance he was going to die. And this time, he doubted that he’d be reborn in a monastery.
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Thanksgiving dessert
Date: 2011-11-25 01:13 am (UTC)Re: Thanksgiving dessert
Date: 2011-11-25 02:41 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-11-25 01:19 am (UTC)I wondered what happened to the Dragon program - may your voice return to normal toot sweet.
Hugs
Shakatany
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Date: 2011-11-25 10:34 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-11-26 12:48 am (UTC)Shakatany
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Date: 2011-11-25 10:10 pm (UTC)Events accelerating quickly, dare we hope for a better outcome? :) Don't worry, I don't expect, or even really desire, an answer to that.
I really enjoy Jayne and River's communication. they've found a good equilibrium. Jayne tells her what he needs and it gives her an anchor to reality. I'm really enjoying this.
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Date: 2011-11-25 10:35 pm (UTC)I really do like the idea of Jayne and River together either as friends or lovers... I think that comes through in about every Firefly piece I write.
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Date: 2011-11-26 02:54 pm (UTC)Fyi. You have every haunt where i think you meant to have ever
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Date: 2011-11-27 10:05 pm (UTC)