Author's Note: I don't own anything even related to Joss Whedon.
The room is dark, the lighting fluorescent and blue, cold in its artificialness. The center of the room hosts that around which all is oriented: the chair. It is metal, cold, and uncomfortable. Strapped into the chair is a girl, perhaps thirteen or fourteen. She jerks periodically, her spasms random and her breaths ragged. Devices encircle her form; she is like a dove trapped in a cage. Before the chair stalks the dark form of a man, hands clasped firmly behind his back. He raises his head and speaks.
"We must ask ourselves: what is sin? What is evil? And the answer is: brain functions. Electrical signals flashing along nerves to be interpreted by neurons, that tell us what we feel, how we think, determines how we act. All of Mankind's inhibitors are within this organ, here." He tapped his head for emphasis. "We now have the capacity—the technology—to remove sin. To improve the conditions of humanity like never before. We can eradicate evil from society. We can build a utopia!"
His exuberant finish was lost on the pair standing before him: one, a young woman in an elaborate dress, the other a brown-haired man who tugged at the collar on his fancy uniform irritably every few minutes, as though standing still in it discomforted him. Both sported ID badges that identified them as inspectors. "But this isn't everything you do here, is it Dr. Heller?" the woman asked pleasantly.
Heller shrugged pointedly. "Well, no. In addition to social modification, we also experiment in areas of mental perception, and imprinted ability. This patient is in all three areas; that's why she's asleep. The more extensive the work, the harder to do when fully conscious."
"There any, uh, indication on whether this has, uh, affected their minds?" the man asked, twirling a finger in the air next to his head.
Dr. Heller sighed. "We are pioneers in full-scale treatments and research in this area. We are the forefront. There are repercussions of that, especially at the beginning of this program. However, our percentage of stable 'graduates' is now 62 . We've come a long way," he said with a proud smile like a father. "We know our patients completely—every aspect of them." It sounded ominously like Shan Yu, and the woman said so.
"Well, yes," Heller said, "but you must recall that while a sadist, Shan Yu was brilliant, in both area of military competence and psychological profiling. We hold him in high esteem here."
"So, uh, this girl," the man indicated the patient, "what is the uh, extent, of her abilities. For the—benefit—of the Alliance?"
"Well, the girl's extra-sensory perception is remarkable," Heller said. "And she's shown amazing capacity for receiving imprinted ability. Her mind is also well attuned to receiving orders, as well as reacting favorably to the implant of subliminal suggestion. Also, her brainwave pattern has successfully conformed to our initial model. The only deterrent is the fractured state of her mind, with an unstable consciousness, but we're working on additional modification to rectify the problem."
"It won't work," the woman said. "She's shattered. But you'll keep on trying and trying until she dies under you, just like the first did under Dr. Mathias. Then maybe someone will come for you, just like they did for him."
Heller seemed startled and fearful. He stared wide-eyed at the woman as the man spoke. "Now, see Doc, the way things look to me, you're in a dangerous profession. You sit in your fancy labs with your talk about improving society, so you splice together these gorram assassins from kids in the name of 'the greater good' and 'improving society' and whatever ever else you use to sleep at night." He gave Heller a long look. "I knew a man like you once. He found what he was lookin' for, after a time, but it wasn't what he expected."
Heller nervously started to back up, but found the chair impeding him. His gaze darted between the pair, as though unable to decide which was more dangerous. "Doctor," the man said, his tone low, "I think you best be considering an early retirement."
Heller was taken aback. "Are you—threatening me, sir?" he asked.
The man shrugged. "Well no, not proper, but this here shiny inspection card allows me to carry whichever weapon I may be wishin' to. Any you may be slightly trying my extremely generous patience."
Heller frowned. "Why?"
"Well, it's just that whenever I see a man runnin' a facility mighty akin to psychological torture—it tends to make me a mite upset."
"I remember you Adam—do you mind if I call you Adam?" the woman asked.
"N—no."
"Thank you. I remember you Adam. You were Dr. Mathias' friend. You liked the tests, but you were afraid to linger too long. You were afraid of us. Afraid we could see. Afraid we'd know your secrets."
Heller staggered backwards, his hands in a death grip on the arms of the chair. The patient paid him no mind, continuing to spasm erratically. His lips moved soundlessly.
"You're not from the Core. You were born on a farm on Du-Khang. You robbed a bank and got passage on a freighter to Ariel. You won a medical scholarship and came to Londinium. You were brilliant, but you thought everyone would think you were incompetent because of your heritage. Then the war came, and you wanted to make sure no one doubted you were Alliance. You were so scared that someone would know. Then Dr. Mathias invited you to join him and coordinate the project. Then he was killed, and you were left in charge. You killed Dr. Farber because he was going to report your faked birth record. You faked his suicide not Then the Miranda broadcast made you doubt everything you had. All you have left now are your secrets—and the pain you caused."
Ragged breaths not unlike the patient beside him tore from Dr. Heller's mouth. He stared at the woman as though seeing her, truly, for the first time. "River?" he whispered, a hand reaching up toward her.
The woman gave him a humorless smile. "Yes, Dr. Heller. I've come home." Her foot whipped up and around into Heller's head. The doctor fell to the floor, limp.
The man hurried to the door, a long burst of Chinese flooding from his mouth as he sealed the chamber. "You could have warned me," he complained.
River sighed. "You're such a whiner, Mal."
"Hey!" Mal snapped irritably. "I am the gorram captain of this boat."
"And I'm the psychic. And we're on a planet."
That gave him pause. "Fair point," he conceded. "Now let's get down to business." He took a data card out of his pocket and crossed over to the computer on the far wall, placing it on the reader console. "What's his access code?"
River was holding a scalpel in her hand, watching it reflect the blue light. "113AX—TigerDeltaGreen—94635240DJA87XC," she said in one breath. "No spaces. You get all that?"
Mal, face strained, said, "Yeah. Took me some mighty quick typin' but petty thief like me; I've picked up some skills over the years."
"Mm hmm."
"Hey now! None of this reader crap!"
"I don't need to," River said. "It's in your voice."
Mal sighed, a rapid burst of Chinese escaping his mouth before he pulled a communicator out of his uniform. "Talk to me Zoe, how we doing?"
"Shiny, Captain. The doc and I just about got all the medical supplies. Jayne's standing guard. Captain, this is a bigger stash than Ariel."
"Shiny. Get rich and get out, over."
"Understood Captain." A brief pause, then, "Captain, doc wants to say thanks. For this job."
Mal turned to look at River, examining the girl in the chair. "Tell him he's on my crew—and so is his sister. Over and out." He shut the communicator off and put it back in his pocket. Behind him, the data card whirred to a stop.
He stepped over, briefly checking its file history. An array of images assaulted him on the computer screen, but he saw what he needed to. "Shiny," he said. "Let's go." He popped the card out from the console.
"She's waking up," River stated in matter-of-fact tones. With a scream, the girl jerked awake, breathing wild, eyes darting everywhere. "Sssh," River said. "It'll be okay, meimei. No more sleeping. No more pain."
The girl stared up with terrified eyes. "But they—but they—River?"
"Yes," River said softly with an encouraging smile.
"Hey, uh, not to be a cold-hearted pirate here," Mal put in, "but ain't someone gonna come runnin' 'bout her scream?"
"Why?" the girl asked. "All we do is scream."
Mal seemed taken aback. "Oh. That's a mite unsettling."
"Not anymore," River said. "There's a moon—"
"Gleaming within an ion cloud. Fire and death. You can't stop the signal. Miranda," the girl gasped.
"Yes," River said, voice intense. "Yes. And the signal is going to fly out across the stars and tell everyone about you, Sky."
"Sky?" the girl whispered. "That's my name."
"Yes, yes it is," River said. "And very soon things are going to change. They can't control you anymore. You're all becoming too powerful for them, and they don't know it yet. And soon, everyone will know about you."
"This is very touching," Mal said from the doorway, "and actually, I mean it this time. But we're in a high-security Alliance facility here, with very impressive rewards on our extremely pretty heads, and we have a rendezvous point to make. So…could we wrap things up here?"
Sky and River traded looks. "He's funny," Sky said.
River laughed. "More than you know." She kissed the girl on the forehead. "Go back to dreamless sleep, Sky. No more nightmares. Dr. Heller won't hurt you anymore. I promise. The signal is coming."
Sky smiled. "Okay," she said, and her form relaxed in the chair.
River brushed the hair off her forehead affectionately. "Be at peace," she whispered.
Mal beckoned from the doorway. "Come on, little albatross. Time to fly."