Disclaimer: I do not own Firefly. Joss Whedon is the rocken-est.
A/N: This fic is purely for my own amusement, and the amusement of a friend of mine. It will basically be short chapters(much, much shorter than this one) ranging from moments in the series, to the movie, and beyond. The fic contains an OC. Patients allergic to OCs strongly cautioned. Please read responsibly. --J.R.
Malcolm Reynolds was on a central planet. A central planet! What was he doing on a central planet?
A job.
A successfully completed job.
Now all he, Zoe, and Jayne had to do was get back to the ship without causing any due fussing about their presence on Beylix.
Things were never simple.
Six years after the war and Mal was doing a job on a central planet for some man named Badger.
His first mate Zoe was alert, as the hardened warrior woman was most of the time. Jayne, Serenity's mercenary, was casually sauntering along beside them.
Serenity was the ship. Mal's ship. Right now, Mal would have given anything to be there instead of leading part of his crew down a central planet's streets.
Mal led them down a lane that was lined with low to the ground iron fencing. He realized that only one side of the street was lined with the fence, and that it wasn't the street that was lined, but a small lot with Alliance soldiers moving up and down the ground in front of a large, stately building.
Things were never simple.
Mal looked on curiously, for he had just realized that there were only a few fully-grown soldiers stationed outside the building. The rest were kids. Children to teenagers, it looked like.
"I recognize this," said Zoë quietly, "Alliance orphanage. Take kids who lost their parents in the war and train 'em to be soldiers. Brainwashing at an early age. How pleasant."
Mal felt sick. The sooner they were back on board Serenity the better.
The children and soldiers were looking intently at Mal, Zoë, and Jayne. Though, only one was deliberately trying to make eye contact.
A teen aged girl. Pressed blue Alliance uniform gleaming in the central planet sun, she walked quickly over to them.
Mal nudged Zoë, who in turn, nudged Jayne. The three sped up fast but were stopped when the clear and commanding voice rang out.
"Halt!"
Mal cringed and turned, facing the girl who stood before him so straight and tall. Wasn't natural for kids to have their backs that straight.
She inspected them for a moment and seemed to decide something. Her face fell from lawful Alliance to scared child in one second flat.
"Please, I need help. If you can, get me out."
One of the adult soldiers had come marching over. "What's the problem, Tedesco?"
The name hit Mal and Zoë like a knife in the gut, and they barely had time to recover before the girl was speaking again, her professional-tones intact once more.
"Littering." Responded the girl; "I recommend letting them off with a warning. At most, fining them a small amount."
Mal was confused for a moment, and then Zoë nudged him in the side and indicated downward.
"Must've fallen out of my pocket. Sorry 'bout that." Mal managed to say through gritted teeth. He bent low and picked up an envelope. Mal was very sure it had not come out of his pocket.
"Very well. Make sure it doesn't happen again." Said the soldier before dismissing the girl named Tedesco back to her post.
"What's wrong with you two?" growled Jayne, "Look like ya've seen a ghost or somethin'."
Zoë took the liberty of answering him, "Tedesco was the name of a fellow Independent soldier, back in the war. He wasn't of the 57th, but we fought with him on Hera."
"So?" grunted Jayne.
"He was shot in the face."
Jayne grunted without remorse. "You think the girl's related to him or somethin'?"
"I know it." Stated Mal, opening the envelope. "Jim was always braggin' 'bout his little girl. How she was such a good shot with a pistol. Never did believe him, told us she was only nine at the time. Said that he wanted to teach her to defend herself early. 'Case he didn't make it back. Nine-year-old girl with a pistol. Still don't believe it."
Zoë looked over to the girl, who was standing back at her post by the building.
"She's the right age. Should be fifteen."
Mal was unfolding a sheaf of paper, which had been stuffed into the envelope. Zoë and Jayne walked around behind him to read over his shoulder.
If you're holding this, it either means you look like someone I can trust or I just screwed up big time.
Hopefully, it's the first one.
I need to get out of here. I don't want to be Alliance.
If you choose to help me then thank you. If you don't that's fine, too. There'll be others.
But, if you do decide to help me, I have a plan.
Do you have a ship? Because you're going to need one if you want to help.
We have thirty minutes from the time this plan begins. Briefing time.
All Alliance orphans are implanted with tracers. My chip is located dead center on my left shoulder blade. It's very easy to deactivate, but very painful for me. Plus, after twenty or so minutes, it reactivates.
All you have to do is get your ship to the roof of this building. I'll meet you there. Have your infirmary prepped. We're going to need to surgically remove the chip. It'll be simple.
Don't worry.
"Kind of a stupid plan, ain't it?" commented Jayne.
"We're doing it." Mal said, still staring at the paper.
"Sir?" asked Zoë.
Mal ignored her and looked over to the girl. She met his eyes and he nodded. She walked briskly over to one of the adult soldiers and spoke a few words. The soldier nodded, and she moved inside the building.
"Let's go." Mal growled quietly and the group moved on.
Karla Tedesco walked in a brisk and dignified way to her dormitory. She skillfully hid her elation at the thought of her plan actually working. She was getting out!
Karla entered her room and quickly pulled a dusty and battered suitcase out from under the bed. She would use the back ways to get to the roof. No one would see her there. She had done it many times before.
Karla then reached up behind her head and over onto her left shoulder blade. She felt the tracer chip just beneath her skin. With a little force, she deactivated it and let the first wave of pain shock her system.
Moaning quietly, she moved from the room and used one of the barely walked hallways to get to the back staircase.
It was easy enough to get to the roof. All she had to do was wait for her ride. Karla nervously checked her watch. She only had fifteen minutes until the chip would reactivate. She whimpered in a small voice as another shock of pain went through her. Karla's legs bent and she slid down the door, to sit on the floor of the roof.
That's when she saw it. A gleaming Firefly on the horizon. An angel flying in to rescue her.
There was screaming from below as the children and soldiers realized that the Firefly was coming at a very low altitude. Karla stood up and waved to the cockpit. She could have sworn someone waved back to her.
The Firefly came in and the ramp to the cargo bay lowered. The man in the brown coat whom had nodded to her earlier appeared, coming down to help her on board.
Another wave of pain and Karla was sent to the ground. The man ran forward, grasping her right arm and pulling her up. He grabbed her suitcase and threw it aboard, doing nearly the same to Karla.
"Wash, they're on! Take us out." Called a tall, dark-skinned woman into a comm. link in the bay.
"Infirmary's this way, little miss." Whispered Mal gently into her ear. Karla felt the rumble of the Firefly's engine as they flew upward, out of the world.
Karla stumbled into the infirmary, led by Mal. She checked her watch.
"We got five minutes to get this thing outta me." Karla growled, removing her shirt and revealing plain undergarments. Mal looked away quickly and she laughed.
"No time to be a gentleman, Sir. You're going to need a scalpel." She said to him, lying on her belly against the examining table.
"Oh—right!" Mal said. He opened a drawer and pulled out the knife. The woman from the cargo bay and a tall, muscular man came into the infirmary.
"We'll give you something to dull the pain." He said moving to another drawer.
"No time!" growled Karla, grabbing his arm and pulling him back. "Just do it quick!"
Mal brought the scalpel down to her shoulder blade. He cut shallow and Karla winced grabbing the headrest of the operating table with both hands.
"I see it… I think." Mal said after a few minutes of poking around. He feverishly wiped his forehead.
"Grab some pliers and pull it out. Fastish." She said, looking at her watch once more. Two minutes.
Mal began to cautiously wiggle the chip out of Karla.
"Again with the gentle." She growled, "Just pull hard. Don't make it drawn out!"
Mal scowled at her but she poked her watch and he gave a hearty pull on the chip. She screamed in pain, but it was out.
"Smash it! Just crush it!" she groaned, her head falling heavily to rest against the chair.
Mal was flustered, but he tossed the chip down into a sterile dish and released his gun from its holster. He crushed the chip with the blunt end of his pistol.
The girl on the table sighed after seeing the chip in pieces. She slipped off the watch she was wearing and gave it to Mal.
"I wanna throw all the Alliance junk I have out the airlock, if that's alright with you, Sir." She whispered.
"Will they follow?" asked Mal, ignoring her.
"No. They have plenty more just like me. One missing won't matter at all. Thank you."
Mal crouched down so that he was level with her eyes.
"We're gonna give you somethin' to sleep while we patch you up. When you wake, Little Tedesco, we have a boatload of things to talk about."
She nodded and Zoë doped her.
Karla awoke in the same room and the same position she had been doped in. Someone had stitched her wound and put a blanket across her shoulders.
She felt sore all over, as she normally did after deactivating that stupid tracer chip. But she was rid of it now and forever.
There wasn't anyone in the room with Karla. She remembered the brown coated man's last words to her. Storytelling—her favorite.
Karla slid around in the chair until she managed a sitting position. She wrapped the blanket tightly around her torso. She had time, now, to be embarrassed about her shirtless-ness.
She sat in the infirmary. It was a simple room, filled with scary-looking medical appliances and bathed in blue light.
At that moment, brown-coat man entered the infirmary.
"Your awake." He stated. "Good."
"Do you think I could go get some other clothes?" Karla asked, "I don't feel much like wearing these anymore." She gestured to the lower half of her body, which was still clothed in Alliance uniform pants and boots.
He nodded and said, "I'm gonna need a name, first."
"Karla Tedesco." She said, holding out her right hand while her left kept the blanket secure around her chest.
"Malcolm Reynolds." He stated.
"Sounds familiar. Browncoat, maybe? Fight in the war? Meet my dad?"
"In the battle of Serenity Valley, unfortunate enough. Good soldier, your Dad. Bragged about you somethin' fierce." Mal said with a smirk.
Karla grinned ear to ear.
"He said I was a good shot, right? He was always braggin' about my aim!" She seemed generally pleased with the memory. "I knew it would be alright if I asked you for help! I couldn't even place your face but I still knew!" She grinned even wider.
"Are we in space?" she asked quickly, an excited gleam in her eyes.
"The one and only Black. You're traveling on a Firefly. Her name's Serenity. I'm her Captain."
"Captain Malcolm Reynolds." She repeated, "Serenity...? Never mind. It has a nice ring to it."
"Glad ya' think so. Where abouts are you headed?" Mal asked, pulling a chair from the corner of the room and taking a seat across from her.
"Dunno. Anywhere away." She said, thinking. An odd shine seemed to come to her eyes. "Maybe I could, I dunno, stay here? On the ship? As part of your crew?" she asked hopefully.
Mal looked shocked.
"I don't hire children!"
"You'll find I'm not much of a child, Captain Reynolds."
"And what, exactly, would you do?"
"I'm good with pistols." She muttered.
"I won't be havin' a little girl killin' people!" Yelled Mal.
"I can cook! And clean! What does it matter if I can wield pistols as well?" she yelled, equally loud.
Mal took a few steadying breaths.
"I'll think about it. But you best know, even if I do let you stay, I won't have you killin'."
Mal got up from his chair and walked out only to appear a second later with her suitcase.
"Get dressed and call me back in when you're done. I'll introduce you to the crew."
Karla sorted through all the clothing in the case. Most of it was her mom's. Alliance orphanages didn't exactly let you go clothes shopping. They gave you uniforms. Lots of uniforms. Everything in her case was dusty. Karla barely ever had time to take anything out. She pulled out a pistol, which she was sure would need a lot of maintenance before it would work properly again.
Karla sighed and pulled out clothing that she knew wouldn't fit quite right.
"Ready." Came Karla's voice and Mal stepped back into the infirmary. Mal inspected her style of dress. He somehow knew none of it was hers.
She wore a black button down shirt that had to be at least five sizes to big for her, a dark blue skirt which was also much larger than Karla's waist could accommodate (it was being held up by a tightly notched belt,) and a dark brown bandanna tied over her shoulder-length locks. It clashed horribly with her red-brown hair. Mal also noticed the silvery pistol sitting quietly in its holster on Karla's belt. The holster wasn't properly fixed to her thigh because she was wearing a skirt and unable to fasten the small leather strap around her upper leg.
He peeked around behind her, looking at the open suitcase sitting on the floor of the Infirmary, its contents messily shoved back inside it. Mal noticed that the only article put back neatly was a large brown coat. He shuddered unwillingly.
"I told everyone you woke up. They're waitin' for us in the kitchen."
Mal turned on his heel and Karla followed him on tender bare feet.
Karla entered the kitchen with Mal and felt five degrees warmer. The kitchen was yellowish-orange, with flowers painted on the walls. It definitely had a homey feel to it, this ship.
Karla was woken from her reverie by the sound of Mal's voice.
"Everyone, this is Karla Tedesco. She'll be travellin' with us for a while. Everyone is to be welcomin'," He shot a look at the muscular man Karla had seen earlier, who was sitting at the scrubbed wooden table. "She's offered to earn her keep. Cooking.
"Karla, this is Zoë Washburne, my first mate." Karla waved at the tall woman she recognized from earlier. "Her husband, Serenity's pilot, Wash."
A stocky, blond man waved merrily to her and Karla grinned. She was grinning too much lately.
"Jayne Cobb, our er… Mercenary." Mal said slowly, waiting for her reaction to Jayne's title. Karla didn't seem surprised and when Jayne grinned at her she grinned back. Jayne was the tall, muscular man from earlier.
"Our mechanic, Kaylee Frye." A girl with a round face and bright eyes smiled cheerfully at her.
"And the Ambas—our resident Companion, Inara Serra." Karla was given a beautiful smile from an equally beautiful woman who stood in the corner. Inara looked over to Mal and their eyes met. Karla resisted the urge to say something about it.
"Er..." Said Karla, quite unsure of how the crew would stand with her.
There was an uncomfortable silence as everyone stared at the new arrival. Mal came to the rescue. Sort of.
"I believe an explanation is in order," He said pulling out a chair and pushing Karla down into it. "As to how you conveniently ended up on my ship."
Karla grinned nervously, showing slightly crooked teeth.
"Start from the beginning?" she asked, quietly polite voice going a note higher at the thought of telling nearly complete strangers her entire history.
"If you'd be so kind."
Karla sighed heavily and then began.
"I was brought up by my parents on Regina. When I was six years old, my father signed up with the Independents. Mom wanted to sign up too, but Dad wouldn't let her. Something about not wanting me to grow up without a mother." She scowled at the floor for a moment before continuing.
"When I was nine years old, my mother and I were sent a Wave. And a package."
Mal and Zoë both looked down at the floor. They knew exactly what that meant.
"'Our most sincere condolences.' That's what they said. The package had all o' Dad's stuff in it. Pistol, bandanna, and coat." She gestured to each item in turn, except for the coat, which was still with her suitcase.
"A few months after, Mom got sick. She died. The doctors said heartache..." She didn't make eye contact with anyone for a moment, looking down at the ground.
"All the sudden, Alliance Federal Officers show up, tell me to pack up my few belongings. They took me to the Orphanage.
"So here I am, six years later. All grown up." She finished, and looked up at the crew who stood before her, with her.
"Ain't those places s'posed t' brainwash youngins like you? Make 'em all liking the Alliance?" Jayne asked.
"The rebellious teenage years kinda help with that. There are others like me there. Kids who know what's going on, who want to get out. I'm just one o' the few that actually put t'gether a plan."
Silence fell over the group, as everyone was lost in his or her own thoughts. Karla was the one to break it.
"So, what happens to me now?"