"It's not the World I fear," he admitted at last. "It's myself."
The Abbot merely nodded, so he forced himself to continue. "The last time I walked in the World, I killed ... hundreds. And the potential for violence is still there."
"There is also," the Abbot said, "the potential to do good."
But he shook his head. "I told myself then that I was doing good. That by eliminating a few disruptive elements I was making things better for everyone. 'The good of the many' ... "
"You cannot let fear rule you."
"It's one thing to risk myself," he said. "It's another to put innocents in danger." He shook his head again. "I can't have any more deaths on my conscience."
"Then you are decided."
"Yes."
In the safety of the Abbey, they didn't follow the news. So even if it had been reported, he wouldn't have heard of the destruction of one Firefly-class ship with all hands aboard.
2.
When all the lies were blasted away, he had no truth left within. So he stole a ship and headed out to the Black, seeking an emptiness to match his own.
Instead, he found the Reavers.
3.
As his retirement party wound down, his supervisor, Qing Bai, approached him. "It's not too late," she said.
"Too late for what?"
"I can always rescind the pension paperwork."
"I'm just another paper-pusher. You'll replace me within a week." He smiled. "Besides, I'm going to be a grandpa in a few months."
"I understand." Qing shook his hand. "It's been good working with you, Derrial."
He picked up his briefcase and walked out of the government building for the last time.
Minerva was waiting for him at the door with a celebratory bottle of champagne. "To our second honeymoon," she said.
"To second chances."
She looked at him for a long moment. "Do you ever wonder," she asked at last, "what would have happened if you hadn't deliberately flubbed your test?"
"I suppose I would have gone on to be a hero. Protected the Alliance from all sorts of desperate characters. Had women throwing themselves at me." He pulled her close. "All except for the most beautiful woman in the 'verse, who I'd been silly enough to leave behind."
She laughed, and they decided to save dinner for later.
He was going to enjoy retirement.
4.
Operatives didn't ever really get to retire - he'd known that since he entered the Program. Most of them would die young, in the line of duty. The few who managed to survive would go on to teach the next generation of young Operatives.
But now he'd been sent back into the field, for the first time in close to fifteen years. Sent to find a girl, to stop her before ... well, he didn't need to know the details. It was enough to know that she was a threat.
Her protectors were careful - but not careful enough. Or maybe it was just because they weren't expecting a threat to come from an old man. But he was able to walk right up to the girl.
Even before the knife went in, she started to scream. One hand came up to block him, but fifteen years as a trainer - sparring with young men and women a third of his age - had kept him sharp. He grabbed her wrist, pinned it, and slipped the thin blade in, between her ribs, into her heart.
It was done. Even her brother, the doctor, wouldn't be able be able to stop it now.
She staggered back, staring at the blood on her hands. Her face had gone white. Then she collapsed.
The gunshot that killed him was a roar in his ears. But even as he fell forward, across the body of the girl, he knew the satisfaction of a duty done.
5.
He was just thinking that maybe he should have gotten off at Haven, or any other of the planets they'd stopped on - anywhere away from River, and her uncanny way of knowing things - when she came bouncing around the corner, eyes bright. He met her eyes, and she smiled - but then drew back, wide-eyed. Started screaming.
Her brother grabbed her, tried to comfort her as she babbled. Book caught one word - Operative.
Suddenly she straightened. "He killed them. All of them."
Mal came around the corner. "Shepherd?"
He could have lied - they would have believed him, for a time. Long enough for him to get off on their next stop, no matter what kind of a backwards dustball it was.
But he'd sworn, years ago, to repent.
"She's telling the truth," he said.
He saw Mal's hand drop to his gun. "Then I think you've got some explaining to do, preacher."
"I do," he said.
As he told his story, he felt like he was standing outside of himself. Watching the crew watch him.
The shock and horror he'd anticipated. The betrayal he saw on their faces, in their eyes - that hurt.
Finally, he finished his story. He supposed he should say something else - some plea for forgiveness - but he couldn't see the point.
"So, preacher," Mal said. "Story like that - any reason we shouldn't shove you out the airlock and be done with you?"
"No."
But Simon was on his feet. "With your access ... "
"It's all old. Decades old." He glanced at River - the only one who wasn't looking at him as if he'd just killed her faith. And thought that maybe this was why he was meant to be here. "But I'll try. If there's anything I can do ... "
Anything. No matter what the cost. Because it was finally time to stop hiding from his past, and start trying to make things right.
