Unificators

"Unificators." Denon put the datapad down on his desk and looked at Kalista with a frown. "The Alliance is calling them Unificators."

She shrugged. "Could be worse."

"How?"

"They could have called them by what they are – bounty hunters. Mercenaries. That sort of thing."

"You think when the Unificators start doing their jobs and word reaches the Cortex, people aren't going to know what they are and call them out for it?"

"Since the premise is that they're chasing down war criminals…well, if the Alliance spins the story right, we won't have to worry about what they're called, as long as they're applauded for it."

"And what are the chances of that happening?"

She didn't say anything. Not because she chose to, but rather because she had nothing to say.

That rankled her. By the pen or the sword, she could always do something. She, Denon, and every other Operative employed by the Anglo-Sino Alliance. She could technically get on a ship right now, head for Londinium, enter the Alliance Ministry of Defence, and find the dong gua who not only thought of calling hired guns "Unificators," but to ask them why they thought this was a good idea at all. That mere months after the Unification War, the Alliance wanted to round up declared war criminals and bring them to justice.

She knew a lot about justice. Justice could be obtained through a lengthy and arduous process in some courtroom, or it could be found in the dark, done quickly and effectively. She'd only ever done the former. As had Denon, and the men and women like them. She watched as her superior got off his desk and walked to the window, separating the IAV Saffron from the vacuum of space outside. They didn't command the ship, but they could take it where they wanted, from White Sun to the fringes of the 'Verse.

"I suppose we should thank the powers that be for the heads-up," Denon said. She walked over to join him. "One should always be informed of these things."

She laughed – the first time she'd done so in the last half decade. "As if we wouldn't find the information ourselves."

Denon laughed as well. "Careful now. There's already members of parliament who want more oversight applied to the Operatives."

"Funny." She didn't laugh that time, because it wasn't funny to her at all. "Did they ask that during the war?"

Denon didn't answer. If he had, and if he'd been truthful, the answer could have been as short as "no" or as long as "of course not." Technically the answer could have been given in as many words as he liked, but Kalista knew Denon, or at least, knew him as best an Operative could know another. Like her, he was a man of few words. Words could get the job done, but mere months ago, the most costly war in the history of the 'Verse (and possibly all of human history period) had concluded. Actions had succeeded where words hadn't. Of course, "success" was something that only the Alliance could claim. What the Independents could call it other than "defeat" she didn't know, nor did she care. She wasn't worried about the Independents. She was worried about what might come out of the Independents.

Which, she reflected, was already mounting up on her list of issues that needed attention. There were still some holdouts in the Blue Sun system – people who refused to accept that the war was over. There was already talk of former Independents forming into freedom fighter/vigilante/terrorist groups – people who did accept that the war was over, but wanted to start a new one. And then there was everyone else – the living who missed the dead, and wanted justice against those who were still living. Kalista knew that one's ideas of justice differed from one person to the next, but she wasn't worried about that. What she was worried about was the Alliance potentially creating another problem when there didn't need to be one.

Unificators. While Denon continued stargazing, she picked up his datapad, took a seat, and began skimming through the report. Apparently some bigwig had decided on Londinium had decided that the wounds of the Unification War needed tending to. Not with bandages or regen-o-gel, but iodine. Medicine that might mend the wounds, but only at the cost of further pain to the patient. The dossier stated that the Alliance would be employing freelancers, mercenaries, and bounty hunters to bring war criminals to justice. Kalista found the idea of war having rules to be silly (especially when people of both sides broke them so often), but no, this was happening, and it was what parliament wanted, even if Interpol and numerous members of the Alliance military didn't. Interpol objected because they thought it was an infringement against their mandate. The military didn't want it because they thought their own might be brought into a court of law, or worse, brought into the hereafter with a bullet for company. To them, Kalista would have said "don't be silly." The Alliance wouldn't go after its own. They might declare that the Unificators would be impartial, that their namesake was intentional, but she knew the truth. They'd be hunting down people from one side only.

This is a disaster in the making, she thought, as she began looking at the initial Unificator list – big strong thugs who had more guns than brain cells. You do realize that right?

Presumably not. She watched as Denon quit stargazing and walked back to the centre of the officers' lounge – a lounge without any actual officers. They'd called dibs, and Captain Guranji had obliged.

"Do you think they'll handle Shadow?" Denon asked.

Kalista scoffed, and handed the pad back to him.

"I mean it," he continued. "That's the planet everyone keeps coming back to. It's the one planet that the Alliance has admitted culpability to."

"You think a group of bounty hunters could bring an entire flotilla of ships to bear?"

"A flotilla? No. But if one truly examines the idea of culpability in war, then-"

"Spare me the moralizing Denon. That isn't your job, and it isn't mine."

Denon frowned. "Alright then. And how is your job going?"

"Fine. Don't have an assignment right now, but-"

"I meant the Academy. I meant your disciples."

She looked up at him. The look on his face told her that this was a conversation that he indeed wanted to have.

"You think if people like the Dust Devils knew what was going on in the Academy that we wouldn't have a full-blown war on our hands? A second one?"

"I think the question is pointless," Kalista said slowly, "because they won't find out. The people won't find out, no matter what planet or moon they call home." Denon opened his mouth but she beat him to it. "And what's going on in the Academy is far more important than keeping naval officers' head off the chopping block. So if the Unificators do go after our own, the powers that be will keep them facing in the right direction."

Denon looked like he wanted to say more, at least for a moment. A moment after that however, he forced a smile. "You're right, of course."

"I am. And if you need to soothe your conscience so you can sleep at night, don't waste my time in doing so."

The smile became a frown. "I thought you didn't have any assignments right now."

"I don't. So?"

"So I wonder how I'm wasting your time."

She laughed – a second, proper laugh. "Denon, right now I'm planning how to deal with the fèihuà that you and I will be dealing with over the next few months, if not years." She got to her feet. "Trust me, there's always something that needs doing."

He didn't say anything. If it had been a man other than Denon, she might have felt the need to press her point. Still, she decided against it. Denon was like her – an Operative. Like her, he'd given up everything to serve the Alliance. To bring a new and brighter future to the 'Verse. A future that seemed very far away right now in light of the war, and was getting even dimmer with the inane Unificators idea.

You have no idea how the world works, do you? She reflected as she made her way over to a 3D model of the 'Verse. She ran a finger along White Star. You sanction the Operatives. You sanction the Academy. And just when you come to learn the value of the scalpel over the hammer, you bring out the hammer, crush your own finger, and cry foul.

Not that Parliament was crying yet. But they would. Soon as they realized how terrible this Unificators idea was, the tears would flow. The blood would remain, and the Outer Planets would take even longer to understand the worth of a united universe.

Here's to unification then. She moved away from the model to pour herself a glass of whiskey. Turning around, she toasted the model before drinking it. Here's to a new galaxy.

The model, like space, was silent.

But in her mind's eye, she could already hear the screams.

A/N

So, in light of the upcoming Firefly comic series from Boom Studios, and the idea of the Unificators...yeah, I'm calling it. They're not hunting down war criminals, they're targeting former Browncoats. I say that because not only is "Unificators" a rediculous term, but I can't imagine the Alliance creating an impartial body that would investigate itself.

Could be wrong, but anyway, drabbled this up.