A Dish Best Served Cold
River stared intently at the bowl in Jayne's hand heaped with the Proteus® brand protein stir fry left over from the previous night's dinner that he was now wolfing down for lunch. At first Jayne responded by eating more rudely than even his usual style of slovenliness, just to try and get a reaction from her, but after ten minutes of River's eyes seemingly mesmerized by the sight of the protein in the cheap and much worn dish, Jayne lost most his appetite and he snapped, "What the wǒ kào is with you, girlie? Never see someone try and eat leftovers before?"
River's gaze rose to meet Jayne's. "Thrift, thrift, Horatio! The funeral baked meats did coldly furnish forth the marriage tables."
"Shénme?" asked Jayne.
River stood up. "The course must be checked. We are no longer north-by-northwest, but the course must be checked." She calmly left the mess in the direction of the helm, living a rather uneasy crew behind her in the mess.
Simon was disturbed, especially since this wasn't an isolated incident of more ramblings he thought Miranda had put behind them. Her cryptic comments had begun just when he was starting to breathe easier again after she had proven to be much, much more stable and doing an excellent job as Serenity's new pilot. River had been dancing in the cargo bay; somehow – no one was quite sure how – she had convinced Jayne to play his guitar so she would have music to dance to. In the middle of a beautiful arabesque she had crumpled to the floor in a dead faint.
Jayne had freaked out, convinced Reavers were about to descend, and frantically tried to wake her up. A few moments later, as the whole crew descended into the cargo bay, shouting in confusion and worry, she opened her eyes and said flatly, "The queen is dead. Long live the queen." She then calmly got up and left in the direction of the cockpit.
Malcolm Reynolds had been the first to say anything into the silence that met her grim statement: "Well… that can't be good."
Simon had found her later sitting in the pilot chair, downloading Mozart's Requiem from the cortex, and all she would say in answer to his concerned queries was that the curtain was up but she didn't know how many acts until they would be on stage.
The day after River's cryptic comments in the mess they landed at the docks of New Halifax, on Panquin. It was only River's third landing, but she took to flying, like, as Mal said, "a scrawny duck to water."
"OK people," said Mal, as everyone gathered in the cargo bay, eager to get some real light and non recycled air, "As promised, I'm givin' y'all the day to enjoy. River, you got the security measures all set up?"
"Mother bird knows chicks need to stretch their wings, and they will have a safe nest to return to."
"I'll take that as a yes then. Ok, we're all set to take off for a bit of wing stretching - but I want everyone back here by 10 o'clock tonight at the absolute latest, hear me? In the meantime, keep a low profile – mouth closed, ears open, like we talked about. And try not get shot, kidnapped, or arrested – River and Jayne, I'm looking at you," he said with a frown. River put on her most angelic face that only made Mal frown harder.
"So it's ok if I shoot someone?" asked Jayne with a broad grin, clearly just trying to get a rise out of Mal.
"If you shoot, 96.8 percent probability you will get shot in return given current factors," said River in a bored tone. "And infirmity supplies are already low. You can buy a second glass of New Canaan or a new box of weaves, your choice." She then sauntered past him to the now open cargo door.
"Goramit girl, your math takes the fun outta everything," he grumbled. "I got half a mind to shoot someone just to prove you Jayne can too shoot without getting shot."
She paused on the ramp to look back and grinned wickedly. "Jayne only has half a mind to begin with. Besides, Jayne promised to first chaperone girl to clothes bazaar so Simon and Captain Daddy would not hover in exchange for three nights off dishwashing."
Jayne sighed theatrically, "Let's go, Crazy." He walked after her, grumbling to himself more out of a making a show of his masculinity than out of any real ill feelings.
Simon watched them go with some anxiety as they walked down the street, River making comments about 'knight errent's supposed to offer arm,' distracted with worry about what could wrong until Kaylee came up behind him and put her own arm through his. "I hope you didn't forget our date, Dr. Tam?" she asked slyly.
Looking startled, then, in a show of quick thinking not often seen when Simon was faced with trying to say something nice to Kaylee, he drawled, "I would forget everything I learned in med school before I could forget you, Miss Frye," while gazing at her adoringly.
"Well, you two love birds get out of here before I puke," admonished Mal. Kaylee shot the captain a mock glare then Inara an excited grin and then she and Simon strolled out, arm in arm, in the direction of the city center.
Mal glanced to the side, "Inara, Zoe, I do believe we have a contact to speak to."
The contact was located at the city's local Companion house – House Tayu, a smallish but still dignified looking branch of the Companion Guild. In fact, the building seemed to be trying to make up for size and location in an excess of architectural decoration that bordered on gaudy. The three of them were met at the entrance by a very solemn majordomo who escorted them to an elaborate sitting room and told the House Priestess would be with them shortly.
Inara sat composedly on one of the low silk draped couches. Mal paced around while Zoe stood very still with her back to a wall, eyes flicking between the doorway they had come in and the glass doors that opened to an abundantly flowering garden. The room was silent but from other parts of the building low chanting could be heard and outside could be heard some obviously yet to be well trained girls talking and giggling.
The door opened, revealing another high ranking servant who announced, "Her Grace, Alexandra Dubois, Priestess of House Tayu. A woman who looked about ten years older than Inara, but just as graceful and elegant came in. Her skin was very pale and her hair, currently done up in an intricate knot, was light red. Her sari was light grey shot through with gold thread. She was clearly everything a Companion was supposed to be, but there was a firmness to her that suggested if necessary she could shed her fancy trappings and take up hoe and plow.
Mal was reminded of his Earth-that-Was history lessons from boyhood about a monarch called the Virgin Queen. Mal firmly bit his check to keep from smiling at the incongruity of the comparison. A girl of about fifteen followed the priestess and set a tray of fancy tea things down on the main little table, then backed out respectfully with the announcer, leaving the trio alone with the elegant lady.
"Welcome to House Tayu, Miss Serra, Captain Reynolds, Mrs. Washburne," she said with an elegant nod of the head. "I am very glad you contacted me. Indeed, it seems beyond serendipitous that you should contact me asking me about a possible job, when in truth I was wondering how to contact you about…work." She raised an eyebrow and waited, unasked questions sitting heavily in the air.
Inara spoke, sounding uncharacteristically humble to Mal. "Your grace, I had heard talk back at House Madrassa that you had been posted this far out, indeed, effectively banished and exiled, because you supported the Independents during the Unification War. It was rumored that the Guild suspected, but couldn't prove, that you were coordinating supply runs for Browncoats."
"Did you hear why I was against Unification?" the priestess asked, her face impassive.
Just as composedly, Inara answered, "It was said you blamed the Alliance for the loss of your sister and brother-in-law."
The priestess smiled coldly, "And now, ten years and many unnecessary deaths later, I am proven right. The Miranda broadcast was far worse than anything I could have imagined. I knew the Alliance was lying about what happened there when, forced for an answer about the lack of reports from Miranda, they blamed the colony founders for accidentally setting up parts of the terraforming machinery incorrectly, turning the planet into a blackrock, but I had no idea what a huge boldfaced terrible lie it was until a few weeks ago." She closed her briefly as a spasm of pain crossed her face. "I have lain awake at nights imaging the possible fates of either a long slide into death or becoming a… Reaver that my family faced, unable to decide what would worse."
She took a breath, regaining her composure. Inara wordlessly poured a cup of tea and handed it to the priestess.
"Captain Reynolds," Alexandra said, abruptly addressing Mal, "all reports indicate you have single handedly – with the help of a rag tag crew of one rickety old Firefly – have started what will no doubt be recorded in the history books as the Second Unification War. I intend to see to it that history records a different outcome this time around. I will force feed the Alliance a cold dish of revenge and make them choke on it, single handedly if I must."
"Well, it looks like we're at the right place," said Mal in his 'you're-my-kind-of-stupid' tone of voice.
"And what do you intend to do?"
Mal looked her straight in the eye. "I intend to keep flying. And, in the process, see if I can clip the wings of that ugly vulture that calls itself the Alliance."
"Good. I've arranged to have some like minded folk to meet here tonight. I'll have the details of the job for you then. Please bring any of your crew willing to speak of what really happened to bring about the broadcast. The people coming here are interested in hearing Truth."
The conversation over, parting pleasantries were exchanged all around. Alexandra rang a small bell and the majordomo came and escorted them back outside the compound. Mal blinked rapidly, eyes adjusting to the bright sunlight outside after the dim coolness inside. "Well," he said, "that was… interesting."
"I told you that you could trust her, Mal," said Inara chidingly.
"That you did. Zoe, what's your take on our new contact?"
"She's angry. She wants to hit something. And think you just volunteered to be her rock to throw at an Alliance window. Sir." deadpanned Zoe.