FIREFLY MkII: OPERATION TAURI

First Impressions

"You've had this coming a long time, mate," the griffin-like gargoyle known as Alistair sneered.

"I'm not beaten yet, muchacho," the human mercenary José Lovano retorted, in spite of the fact that he was sweating profusely.

The game was called Shufflepuck. It was basically another version of glide hockey, except the table was narrower. Most glide hockey games also didn't administer an electric shock to the player when their opponent scored a point. Now a Shufflepuck table was installed in the common room on the Firefly-class transport ship Serenity, after the crew had traded for it on a seedy 'pit-stop' planet. The temptation to get some extra entertainment on board the ship was too great, as the crew had often complained about the lack of things to do during downtime.

Alan Tyler, the mutant Captain of the ship, was now watching the game, hardly daring to believe the endurance of his First Mate and gunner. Beside him were Rachel Tam, the young engineer, and Bishop, the android pilot. All of them had placed bets on how long the game would last; even Bishop, who the others had come to regard as a workaholic, was taking time out from piloting the ship to observe the game. He claimed that he was studying the limits of human endurance, but Alan suspected that he wanted to place a bet.

"How long as it been now?" Alan asked, his voice full of disbelief.

"Sixteen minutes," Bishop replied. "They have played twenty-seven rounds, and yet they show no signs of stopping."

"What's the score?" Alan asked.

"Twenty-seven-nil to Alistair, I think," Rachel chimed in. "I think I heard José say he didn't want to stop until he'd scored a point, among other, more threatening things." They watched as another round started. Both Alistair's and José's hands were little more than blurs as they whipped the paddles around the table, sending the puck ricocheting all over the place at blinding speed. The faces of both competitors were locked in concentration, and the game would likely have kept going for a lot longer had a sudden beeping sound not come from Bishop's commlink. This had the effect of throwing off José's concentration, sending the puck into his goal again. He yelped as a sudden electric shock was sent through him again. He threw down his paddle and pointed angrily at Alistair.

"¡Beza mi culo, pendejo!" he shouted. He marched over to one of the armchairs and sat himself down, his arms folded and looking very cross. Alan sighed, looking over at Rachel.

"I guess I owe you fifty credits then," he said. "I didn't expect them to last this long." From his chair, José gave a loud derisive snort. He felt embarrassed enough that he had lost to Alistair, and he was annoyed that the rest of the crew were placing bets on him. He knew they would never let him forget this for several days. Bishop, meanwhile, was examining his commlink.

"I've just received a message from the Holy Justice," Bishop said. "Shipmaster Mitsu wants to see us."

Alan sighed. "So much for the downtime while Cujo's away," he said. "Any particular reason he wants us?"

"He won't say here," Bishop replied. "He would rather he gave our briefing to us in-person."

"That's hardly a surprise," Alistair shrugged. "I think Mitsu's lot are the only ones we've not met. I swear he spends more time on survey runs than he does at the fleet. The guy's addicted to his work."

"Well, we might as well go and see what he wants," Alan said. "Bishop, dock with the Holy Justice. See if they have a spare hangar."

"Roger, Captain," Bishop said, immediately making his way to the flight deck.

"The rest of us," Alan said, "will meet in the cargo bay."

None of the crew was enthusiastic that their leisure time had been interrupted, but they assembled in the cargo bay anyway. A few minutes later the Serenity was gliding smoothly into the hangar of the Destroyer-class ship, and gently set down on the glowing lavender floor. Once the ship had stopped moving Bishop rejoined the others in the cargo bay and began to lower the large ramp leading out into the hangar. Looking around him, Alan saw that his crew had tried to prepare themselves for visitors. Alistair had tried to make his dark blue leather armour look more presentable, while Rachel had made some attempt to tidy her unruly brown hair. José, as usual, prepared for Sangheili visitors on board the ship by contorting his expression into an ugly scowl.

Seconds later the large airlock doors slid open, revealing the interior of the hangar. Several Sangheili warriors were standing guard outside the ship. Alan was used to the sight of them by now, though he had to admit that he was rather nervous about meeting Mitsu. He had already met the other Shipmasters in the fleet (aside, obviously, from Telek) and was able to get a good measure of their character, but the Holy Justice's Shipmaster was still an unknown quantity.

When Alan actually saw Mitsu, his nervousness almost gave way to laughter. For Mitsu 'Kimam, as it turned out, was the shortest Sangheili Alan had seen so far. He was a good head shorter than the two guards who entered the ship with him, making him not much taller than Alan who was around six and a half feet tall himself. Alan also guessed that, like Cujo, he was a Zealot, judging from the golden harness he was wearing.

Mitsu, meanwhile, was peering around the curved panelled walls of the cargo bay and into the faces of the five crew members. Like most of the other Sangheili, he found it hard to believe that this rag-tag skeleton crew had had so many successes in this run-down junker of a ship. It may have been enhanced with Sangheili slip-space technology, but he still felt that it looked more likely to tear apart upon the next re-entry through a planet's atmosphere. He also felt that this tiny cargo carrier stuck out like a sore thumb next to the sleek Sangheili flagships elsewhere in the Fleet Shadow of Fury; if he had had his way he would have treated it as a shuttle vessel for one of the flagships as opposed to a separate entity. He kept these thoughts to himself; Cujo clearly trusted the Shipmaster of this vessel, and he knew that he would have to respect Cujo's wishes. He approached Alan and gave him a courteous salute which Alan returned.

"Shipmaster Tyler," he said, "we meet at last."

"Shipmaster Mitsu," Alan replied. "Welcome aboard the Serenity." Something of what Mitsu was thinking must have shown on his face, for Alan added, "She may not look like much, but she's got it where it counts." Rachel leaned over slightly, nodding as if to say "You tell 'em!".

"Appearances can be very deceptive indeed," Mitsu nodded. "For instance, I would never have believed that humans could be so resilient when I first clapped eyes on them, yet they put up a very strong fight back in the days of the war. That taught me a few harsh lessons."

"We're full of surprises, split-face," José spat. Alan couldn't help but feel that the impulsive gunner had a point though; Mitsu has sounded almost wistful, as if the memories of the war were particularly fond for him. The eyes of the Sangheili guards narrowed and they snarled, their mandibles quivering as José returned a defiant glare. The gunner had never forgiven the Sangheili for their involvement in the war. Alan knew this, and his bad attitude around their comrades in the fleet was a source of constant irritation.

Mitsu, however, remained eerily calm. He approached José with his arms behind his back and leaned in very closely, his face almost touching José's. An odd sort of smirk seemed to appear on his mandibles.

"Ah, yes," Mitsu said in a loud whisper. "Cujo did tell me about you, José Lovano. You were a guest in the brig on the Divine Journey only last week, if his account is correct." Suddenly, without warning, he grabbed the front of José's vest with both hands and lifted him about a foot off the floor. For his size, Mitsu was an incredibly strong Sangheili. José struggled fruitlessly against the Shipmaster's iron grip.

"Rest assured," Mitsu continued, his tone becoming icier, "that had you been one of my crew, I would not have wasted a cell. I would have cut that spiteful tongue out of your head before you had time to scream."

Perhaps noticing the scandalised look on Alan's face, he proceeded to drop José onto the metallic floor. The human grunted in pain and tried to pick himself up, a murderous look on his face. His fist was clenched and it looked like he was about to spring at Mitsu there and then, but Alistair grabbed his arm and held it firmly in his claw.

"Just get your gear ready," the gargoyle said quietly. "The last thing we need is another war with these guys right on their doorstep."

José didn't say anything. He seemed to silently agree with Alistair, however, as he picked himself up and made his way back up the gantries to the crew cabins, throwing one last spiteful look at Mitsu. Alan, meanwhile, felt that he had to say something; he knew that Mitsu had been completely out of order, doing that to his crewman, regardless of how much he deserved it.

"That wasn't called for, Shipmaster," he said firmly. "While you're on my ship, it's my rules. I deal with José's outbursts myself."

"With all due respect, Shipmaster," Mitsu said firmly, "most in the fleet agree that an attitude adjustment for your crewman is long overdue. I know it was not my place to discipline him on your ship, and for that I'm sorry, but I meant what I said. Had he been serving under my command, he would not go unpunished for such insolence." He gave a deep, rumbling sigh.

"He had a point though, as cock-eyed as it was in coming out," Alistair then said, his arms folded. "You sounded like you almost enjoyed the war."

"You noticed that, did you?" Mitsu said, sounding embarrassed. "It's true that I miss the thrill of battle. I was a Special Operations warrior before I met Telek and joined his fleet. I had been trained and conditioned to hate humans..." He looked back towards where José had disappeared with a scornful expression. "Telek forced me to see some hard truths, and Shipmaster Jimenez and his crew have proven their worth countless times, but when I see characters like that..." He snarled and tensed his muscles, but eventually seemed to decide that he couldn't find an appropriate word for José. "Well, let's just say that old habits die hard. Commanding a flagship just isn't the same as a battle on the ground."

"So why'd you call us here then?" Alan asked. "Aside from to have a go at my associate."

"Well," Mitsu said, becoming more business-like. "I decided that I could use your help. I'm taking the Holy Justice to the star cluster the humans call 34 Tauri, as part of our ongoing search for the missing Supreme Commander. That system has over thirty planets and hundreds of moons. Most of those planets and moons were glassed during the war, but enough still survive to provide a lot of trouble for those surveying the cluster. I need two ships for this; a lone vessel could be searching the cluster all week."

"34 Tauri..." Alan muttered. He recalled Lofwyr mentioning that name during his speech about the Serenity's history. Behind him Rachel let out a small gasp, her eyes growing wide.

"Should we expect trouble there?" Alan continued. "If they see an Elite ship in the system, someone there's going to go crazy."

"I shouldn't think so," Mitsu replied, shaking his head. "Tom tells me that those planets which weren't glassed were evacuated. If any colonies still stand, they will be nothing but ruins. We should not run into any hostile parties during our search."

"Except, perhaps, for the Reavers..." Bishop then chimed in, prompting the others to look at him with looks of alarm. Rachel, however, had gone very white in the face.

"Lofwyr said something about Reavers..." Alan said thoughtfully.

"Forgive my ignorance," Mitsu said, "but what's a Reaver?"

"They were men and women once," was the surprising answer which Rachel gave. "They became truly mad, piercing and disfiguring themselves, attacking ships and colonies in the Outer Systems. They would kill their victims, rape them, mutilate them, eat them and use their skins as clothing. If you were lucky, they did it to you in that order." She was very quiet and pale as she spoke, sounding thoroughly disgusted. "My parents used to say to me that if I wasn't a good girl, the Reavers would get me. I didn't find out everything about them until I was a teenager. Before then, I thought they were just a scary bedtime story."

"They were the result of an experiment gone wrong," Bishop continued. "34 Tauri was not under the jurisdiction of the UNSC until about forty years ago. Communications with Earth from that sector were not possible for a long time due to some unique interstellar phenomena, leading the first settlers there back in the 23rd century to believe that the Earth had been destroyed. In that time, the cluster fell into the control of the Alliance, a totalitarian regime that saw themselves as the lawbringers and guardians of the colonies whether the people wanted it or not. They conducted a secret experiment in mind conditioning on the planet Miranda which was supposed to render the population incapable of violent action. Most of the population died, rendered incapable of doing anything, even the basic functions necessary for survival. The rest became the Reavers. Rachel is not exaggerating with her account; the Reavers were beyond madness. They were pure evil."

"They sound like nasty pieces of work," Mitsu rumbled. "Where were they found?"

"On the edge of the Outer Planets," Bishop said. "By all accounts, however, they were all believed to be exterminated, though there are no reliable reports as to how that was accomplished. Pockets of them may still survive; I only mention them to advise you all to be cautious."

"Understood," Mitsu said, nodding. "They can't be any worse than the Flood, but we'll be careful."

"I'll send you all the information we have on the Reavers and their methods," Bishop said.

"Very well then," Mitsu said, becoming more authoritative. "Tom supplied us with maps of the cluster. We'll search the Georgia, Kalidasa and Blue Sun systems, leaving the Serenity with the White Sun and Red Sun systems. With any luck we won't be staying in the cluster for more than a day, if we take the glassed and non-terraformed worlds into account."

"Understood," Alan said. "When do we depart?"

"Within the next ten minutes," Mitsu replied. "I will go and prepare my crew for slip-space now. Good luck in your hunt."

"You too," Alan replied. The two Shipmasters saluted each other, and then Mitsu and his guards stepped back onto the Holy Justice. As Bishop closed the airlock doors and raised the ramps, Alistair and Rachel breathed a sigh of relief.

"That was tense," Alistair said. "What did you think of him, Captain?"

"Very focused," Alan said. "Did you notice how once he got rolling on our mission requirements that that was all he'd talk about? I think he just wants to get there and get the job done. Something tells me he's frustrated, but I don't blame him; we've been at this search for about three weeks now with no results."

"Well, we'll just have to search some more," Alistair shrugged. "Let's go prep for departure."

Ten minutes later both the Serenity and the Holy Justice had broken away from the fleet, and were now speeding through slip-space to the parts of the cluster they were to search. Before they had left, Mitsu had contacted the ship, sending Bishop a special Sangheili frequency that was to be used in their distress signal should they run into trouble. Mitsu doubted that they would need it, but he always felt it best to be on the side of caution.

According to Bishop, it would be little over an hour before they reached the White Sun system in 34 Tauri, so Alan spent the time checking the stock in the cargo bay. Lofwyr had apparently called in a lot of favours to get these supplies for the mission, but a lot of the crates in the bay were still untouched, as Alan had not seen any need to open them. He had just noticed a large metal crate buried under stacks of other boxes when he heard footsteps approaching him from behind.

"Captain?" he heard Rachel's voice say in a small voice. "Can we talk for a minute?"

Alan turned away from the pile of crates and looked over at her. He noticed that she was looking somewhat nervous, and he gave her a smile as warm as his reptilian features would allow.

"I always make time for my crew," he said. "What do you need?"

"Well, it's just that..." Rachel said nervously, wringing her hands. "When I heard we were heading to 34 Tauri, something just occurred to me. I thought that... No," she stammered, shaking her head. "No, I don't want to get in the way of our mission, I'll just..."

"Rachel, what's wrong?" Alan asked. It was painfully obvious that something was troubling her, and if there was one thing he disliked was the idea of any of his crew being in trouble. Aside, maybe from José, but then he usually brought his troubles on himself. "It's okay, you know; I'm not gonna bite, no matter what my appearance says."

"Okay," Rachel nodded, still looking nervous. "Well, Lofwyr told you that my parents and my auntie were on the Serenity before me, right? Something's been bothering me for a long time about them." She paused, clearing her throat, nervously trying to organise her words.

"My Auntie River used to be at our house a lot. She was such an odd woman; smiling and dancing one minute, then completely reclusive the next. She really didn't like our trideo system; she couldn't stand to be in the same room as it. I remember on a night, often we couldn't get any sleep. Auntie River would wake up in the middle of the night, screaming, like she'd had a really bad dream or something. My dad's a doctor, and he always told me that Auntie River wasn't well, but wouldn't say exactly what was wrong with her. Even when I grew up, my parents always dodged the subject, though I once heard my mum say that Auntie River misses Serenity terribly. It might have been the only place she ever felt at home. The only other thing they ever said was that they had been on the run from the Alliance, but they never said why."

"And you think there'll be answers for what's wrong with her in 34 Tauri?" Alan asked.

"I know it's a long shot," Rachel replied, glumly, "but I thought that, you know, if we had the time, we could look and see what we find. She gave us our problems, but I love my Auntie River, and I wanna know what happened to her out here. If there's even just the teeniest, tiniest chance..."

Alan looked thoughtful. He knew that Rachel was right in that it was indeed a long shot that they'd find anything. On the other hand, he knew that he had to keep his crew focused on the mission ahead, and resolving any personal issues they had would be the best way to do that. Even if they didn't find anything, he hoped that Rachel would be satisfied that they had tried.

"I'll see what I can do, Rachel," he replied. "We can talk it over with Bishop and we'll look at likely places to search. I'm sure Mitsu won't mind us taking some extra time to do a thorough check."

Rachel nodded, and the pair walked back up the gantries to the flight deck. Alan walked straight over to Bishop while Rachel stared out of the viewing ports, watching the swirling slip-space portal speeding past them.

"I've never seen slip-space," she sighed, her eyes wide with wonder.

"Bishop," Alan said to the android pilot, "we've got an extra job for you. Rachel, why don't you tell him what you told me?"

Rachel was so entranced by the sight of slip-space that she didn't hear Alan at first. After Alan called her again she shook herself and repeated her story to Bishop. The android nodded, looking sympathetic; Alan had been about to ask whether Bishop was capable of feeling genuine emotions, but he saw that it was not a good time to do so. In any case, Kiryuu Knight had been capable of emotions, so who was he to doubt if Bishop could manage it?

"Let me see..." Bishop muttered, once Rachel had finished her story. He turned back to his console and began to call up various star charts. "I believe the best place to start looking for answers would be the planet where your father and aunt boarded the Serenity for the first time. Where did they board, Rachel?"

"At the Eavesdown Docks on Persephone," Rachel replied. "My dad smuggled Auntie River on board in a cryo-chamber shaped like a cargo crate." Bishop nodded and zoomed in with the star chart, displaying a small planet orbiting what Bishop referred to as a 'protostar'.

"Here it is," Bishop said. "The last planet in the White Sun system. It fits the profile that I had in mind from Rachel's account. The planet had a stratified society, leaving the room open for a large criminal element. The Tams must have had some contact with it to have rendered themselves outlaws, and those outside the law would have arranged River's smuggling. If there are answers to be found, this is my most educated guess as to where they are." He pointed at the screen, indicating the scrolling text on the side. "According to these reports, Persephone was evacuated but not glassed. It should be safe for us to explore to, as humans might put it, 'your heart's content'." He looked away for a moment, as if there was something he wasn't sure they should be discussing.

"What's wrong?" Alan asked.

"I've just been thinking about River Tam's condition," Bishop replied. "From what Rachel described it sounds to me like she was disturbed in her mind. We know the Alliance has a history of keeping secrets and have conducted experiments in thought control, so we should look in their main facilities in the capital for a start. I have the strong feeling that there is a connection."

"Alright then," Alan nodded. "Set a course."

Unseen by the others, Rachel made her way back to the engine room. What Bishop had said sounded so fantastical, but for some reason she couldn't dismiss it as an over-active imagination. For one thing, Bishop didn't have an imagination, and secondly the more she thought about the Alliance's history the more sense it made for them to try further experiments. She sighed, holding her head in her hands. She tried to distract herself by checking the engine's condition, but there was little that needed doing, and it was too dangerous to work on it while in slip-space.