Fire and Spice
A Dune-Firefly Crossover
Episode One
Chapter 1: The Battle of Serenity Valley
Planet Palma
Serenity Valley
10,188 A.G.
Sergeant Malcolm Reynolds clung a ballistic rifle to his chest, running from sheer death. Cluster bombs lit the night sky, courtesy of imperial airships. The shock wave of a near miss knocked him off his feet, temporarily winding him. Fellow independents rushed by, intercepting a squad of Corrino regulars. The House Corrino infantry, called "purple bellies" by the independents, fast approached Palma's last stand. Mal knew it was just a matter of time before the last browncoat position was taken.
The sergeant watched angrily as Corrino troops killed several men with lasguns. Pencil thin beams of light sliced through skin and bone easily. The imperials knew the resistance couldn't afford personal shields, so used the cruel weapons without prejudice. Mal charged into the fray, spending his last clip on the enemy ranks. He lunged behind a rock, peering around it to observe the skirmish. The surviving rebels got the upper hand, providing a glimpse of hope. It wasn't to last. A gunship swooped over the browncoats, cutting them down with its las-cannon.
Mal's eyes darted across the battlefield, looking for something to use. He spotted an abandoned anti-aircraft gun and dashed for it. Explosions and laser fire followed his every step. Mal sighed in relief, making it to the weapon against all odds. He stared down its iron sights, lining it up with the gunship. He restrained himself, waiting for the perfect moment.
"Come on, just a little lower..."
He squeezed hard on the triggers and prayed. The AA gun shuddered, hurling white-hot tracers at the target. The rounds punched through the gold and purple lion insignia stamped on the craft's hull. Jets of flame burst from the craft's metal. Mal backed away from the platform, his work done.
"Yeah!" he yelled, raising his fist in triumph.
Mal grinned at his handiwork, until the flying wreckage headed straight for him. He bolted from the descending craft, his brown duster flying in the wind. The squad's bunker, enforced by a hastily dug trench was his only hope. Mal strained himself to the limit, preparing to dive into the dirt. He spotted Corporal Zoe Alleyne peer over a row of sandbags. Mal grabbed her and threw themselves into the trench. The earth shook violently as the bomber crashed. Chunks of the vehicle flew over the two rebels.
"Gorrammit Zoe, thought I told ya to stay in the bunker!"
"The men were worried you weren't comin' back sir."
Mal pulled her up hurried into the fortification. It was strewn with dead independents. Just a handful of the 57th Overlanders remained alive. The survivors milled about, awaiting orders. Most were in shock at the wholesale slaughter occurring outside the pathetic encampment.
"Situation report sir?" Zoe asked.
"Imperials are gunnin' us down left and right, we need air support now!"
He looked to Greene, the group's communication specialist. He held an earpiece to his head, listening to an independent officer from HQ. "Well?" Mal asked.
"The brass won't send air support without a lieutenant's authorization code!"
Private Bendis, a fresh faced recruit and newest brigade member, warned of incoming enemies. Mal grabbed an ammo clip off a dead soldier, slamming it into his assault rifle. He, Zoe and Bendis opened fire. A hail of bullets shredded into the enemy ranks, killing or scattering them. A rare moment of silence came over the camp. Mal wasted no time returning to the communication console.
"Greene, what's the status on-"
He stopped short, Greene was dead. Blood seeped out of his uniform and his eyes stared unblinkingly upward. Mal frantically searched the fallen soldiers for a lieutenant's badge. Upon finding one, he typed the officer's serial into the console. He picked up the headset and made contact with HQ.
"This is Sergeant Reynolds, acting commander of the 57th Overlanders, we need air support or this war is over!"
He handed the headset to Zoe to wait for the HQ's reply. He looked at the haggard faces of his demoralized men. From under his shirt he retrieved his Mahayana Christian cross necklace and held it.
"As God as my witness, we will hold this position! The empire said they'd walk through Serenity valley and we choked 'em with those words. We've done the impossible and that makes us mighty. A little while longer and our angels will soar overhead and reign fire on those gǒushǐ duīimperials! We will HOLD!"
A cluster bomb exploded nearby, rocking the feeble bunker. A piece of the concrete ceiling split apart, falling onto a soldier and knocking him out. Zoe put down the headset, crestfallen by some news. The buzz of engines could be heard from outside.
"Listen," Mal said. "The angels are coming to send the imperials to the hot place."
"They're not coming sir, they said it's too risky, they're pullin' out," Zoe replied.
The roar of the ships outside grew louder.
"If that's not them then..." Mal said.
He looked out of the bunker's opening to see Imperial Sardaukar drop ships. Each craft was a small base unto itself. Green fire flickered from their VTOL thrusters, illuminating the battlefield in a pale glow. Landing pods fell from the ships, carrying the first wave. The Sardaukar were the fanatical shock troops of the Padishah Emperor, unmatched by any army in existence. It was over, the war was lost. Mal stood in complete disbelief. He barely noticed as a laser beam struck down Bendis behind him.
Mal saw the first Sardaukar troops to disembark from their pods. He noted the faint shimmer surrounding them, indicating they were shielded. Nothing traveling at lethal velocity would penetrate them. Only the slow thrust of a blade, delivered in close combat, could circumvent the devices. The black armored commandos wielded tri-barreled personal las-cannons. They marched in a wide formation, casting a long shadow over the independent remnants.
Mal stood unmoving as he took in the fearsome sight. A hand grabbed his arm.
"Sergeant," Zoe said.
Silence.
"Sergeant Reynolds!" she repeated, "Snap out of it, you are still in command of this brigade!"
Malcolm stumbled away from the bunker's window and slung his battered rifle across his shoulder.
"Move out people, we'll double back to the rendezvous point," he managed weakly.
The soldiers abandoned their last line of defense. They marched through rocky terrain, trudging past fallen bodies and smoking wreckage. The sound of laser fire echoed in the distance, as the Sardaukar purged straggling rebels and independent assets. Instant death was always one step behind Mal and his beleaguered browncoats. As the days passed, the sergeant picked up other survivors. He and Zoe tried their best to tend to the sick and wounded, as the exodus continued.
A week later, over two hundred troops followed Mal. He was the closest thing to leadership remaining in the valley. His dogged determination to survive kept them going, refusing to surrender to sickness and despair. Mal held up a hand to halt the others. They covered a lot of ground, and needed a break. Along the way, the sergeant had salvaged a portable comm radio. He found a rock to sit on and started turning the radio dials.
"Any luck sir?" Zoe asked.
"Getting something, hold on."
Another twist of the dial brought in a voice recording.
"To all independent survivors, the war is over. Standby for med-ship retrieval. Use your signal flares if you have them."
Weak cheers came from the exhausted soldiers, most were silent. Some were too weak to celebrate, while others were too emotionally numb to respond.
"Can we trust it sergeant?" Zoe asked. "What if it's an imperial trick?"
"Do we have a choice?"
Mal grabbed a flare from behind his long coat.
"Look alive people, medships are on the way. We gotta prepare for extraction."
Those that could, got up on their own strength. Many were dying and likely wouldn't make it for the ships' arrival. After what seemed like hours, the med-ships finally broke through the clouds. The group could spot the bright red crosses painted on their bottoms.
"Are those really med ships?" Zoe asked in disbelief. "Are we really getting out?"
"Looks like it."
Zoe sighed. "Thank God."
"God?" Mal sneered. "Whose colors is he flyin'?"
On that day, Shaddam Corrino IV, 81st Padishah Emperor of the Known Universe, emerged victorious. The short lived Independence War had come to an end. But the fight would never truly be over for those who were at Serenity Valley.
Planet Hagal II
Theta Shaowei System
10,190 A.G.
Two Years After the Independence War
Hagal II was a rocky arid world. Once prized for its precious minerals, it was now a near forgotten fringe planet. With nothing left to mine, it became a haven for ne'er do-wells and shady dealers. Citizens bustled through a makeshift bazaar, run by traders and hustlers. The locals set up quickly, selling to an influx of off world travelers.
Merchants cried out to customers, advertising cheap trinkets and goods. The smell of fresh dim sum wafted through the warm afternoon air. Out of place amongst the stalls was one large Firefly-class transport. It towered over the scene, a giant metallic insect spying its human prey. Its belly let down a long ramp, giving view to a spacious loading dock.
A young woman stood atop a stack of empty crates in front of the ship. She wore a flowery robe over grease stained coveralls. Her black hair was done up into two ox-horn buns. Her feet shuffled around the crate in a pair of straw sandals. She spoke to the crowd energetically.
"If you've got somewhere to go, try the Serenity! Anywhere in the 'verse, no place too far! She may not look like much but she'll surprise ya! Comfortable accommodations, good food, great crew! Only 200 solari!"
A dark skinned man noticed the spirited young mechanic. His snow white hair was tied back and he sported a light mustache. He dressed in a light gray cassock, signifying he was a preacher. He strode toward her, holding the strap of his duffel bag in one hand. A copy of the Orange Catholic bible was in the other. The girl pounced off the crates and greeted him with a big smile.
"Where ya headed preacher? Betcha the Serenity can take you there!"
"In that rusty old thing?" he asked doubtfully.
"The gal's got a lot of life left in her yet. Ever travel in a firefly?"
"A long time ago."
"If you need a ride, we'd be happy to have you. If you can pay that is. You can pay, right?"
"Well I have almost enough solari, and..."
The mechanic watched with interest as the preacher produced a small wooden box from his bag. He held it up to the girl and opened it to reveal fresh strawberries. The girl's eyes widened as she gazed upon the rare fruit.
"That will do it," she replied. "Name's Kaylee, Kaylee Frye. Mechanic on the Serenity."
"Shepherd Book, though most just call me Book."
"Pleased to meet you Book, let me help you with your things."
"Much obliged."
Jayne Cobb swaggered through the bazaar's main walkway, wearing his angriest scowl. Zoe and Mal walked beside him, enduring the mercenary's latest tirade.
"I'm tellin' ya Mal, we should've left that sǐ pì yǎn in a pool of his own blood!"
"Then we'd be dead, can't get paid if we're dead," Mal retorted.
"We could just drop the cargo sir," Zoe suggested.
Jayne trotted ahead of the others and stood in their path.
"No ruttin' way! We ain't had a decent job in months. We need fuel, supplies and I'm pretty sure we need to eat eventually."
"Calm down," Mal told him. "We ain't jettisoning the goods. We'll find someone to take it off our hands for a nice price and be on our merry." Mal gently pushed Jayne aside and strode toward the transport. Zoe caught up to him, while Jayne brooded behind.
"Okay, so Badger was asking too much," Zoe admitted. "Got anyone else in mind?"
"Not at the moment. But we're in over our heads till we get rid of the stuff. And I don't wanna explain to imperial authorities what we're doing with stolen spice."
Zoe's eyes scanned the noisy crowd. Two armored imperial soldiers were surveying the area suspiciously. The corporal quickly averted her gaze.
"Might not want to throw around that word too loosely Mal," she advised.
"What?" Jayne asked. "We could be talking about wasabi, or ginger."
Mal and Zoe gave their usual "are you kidding?" look to Jayne, although they already knew the answer.
"Well some spices go for very high some places, and they ain't considered contraband!"
"Remind us to pick some up next time we're in a general store," Mal said.
The three arrived at Serenity's loading ramp, just in time to see their pilot Wash towing a large cargo crate into the ship. He drove a light hovercraft, its suspensors struggled to haul the giant steel box. Intensely watching the luggage was a sharp dressed young man. His eyes were hidden behind a pair of tinted shades.
Mal gave him the once over. The man was a Suk (pronounced sook) doctor, evidenced by the small red diamond tattoo on his forehead. Suk doctors were mentally conditioned not to betray their patients. This made them valuable to the nobility, who constantly feared assassination. Mal instantly disliked him. Chances are the doctor made his living catering to the very imperials that crushed the independence movement.
"Mal, this is Simon Tam. Simon this is our captain," Kaylee said.
"Captain Reynolds, I've heard of you."
"Welcome aboard," he replied coolly.
Simon nodded and proceeded up the ramp.
"Is that everybody?" Mal asked Kaylee.
"A fella named Dobson should be comin' along any time now cap'n."
"He's got five minutes, else he'll have to find another ship."
A plain dressed man weaved his way through the crowd, hurrying up to Serenity. He pulled a wallet from behind his vest pocket. "Sorry I'm late, name's Dobson. Captain, I presume?"
"In the flesh, 200 solari to ride."
"Right, here you are."
Mal pocketed the credits and jerked a thumb toward the cargo hold. "Hop on, we're leavin'."
Dobson trotted into the craft. Mal gave a final look around the bazaar, no one seemed desperate for a lift. As he started to close the hatch, his presence was graced by a stunningly beautiful woman. Wavy black hair cascaded over her shoulders, framing her bronze skinned face. She wore a flowing white dress, miraculously spotless in the dusty surroundings. Her most alluring feature Mal noticed, were her sparkling all blue eyes. Jayne rushed down the ramp.
"Wash is heatin' up the engines, what's the hold-"
He stopped mid sentence at the sight of the young woman.
"An off-world Fremen," Kaylee pointed out. "Never thought I'd see one."
The Fremen gently carried herself up the ramp to greet the captain.
"Excuse me sir, would you have room for one more?" she sweetly asked.
"Why yes, yes I do. Might I have the pleasure of knowing your name?"
The girl nodded. "I'm Inara Kuhar, pleased to meet you."
"Pleasure's all mine miss Kuhar," Mal said. "Come aboard, make yourself at home."
Inara nodded again and followed Kaylee into the ship.
Mal shook in his head in disbelief. An abandoned crate of spice, a ship full of passengers and a Fremen girl to boot. Things hadn't been this exciting since the war, he thought. Mal left the ramp as it started to swivel back into position. The airlock closed shut, and the Serenity was soon on its way.
The insect-like Serenity hurtled through the Black. Hagal II shrank to a pale brown dot in its wake. The firefly's cone shaped engine glowed vividly against the dark of space. After getting situated, the passengers were being toured through the ship.
"Meals are taken up here in the dining area," Mal explained. "Next one's about eighteen-hundred."
"I think the shepherd has offered to prepare us something," Kaylee announced.
Mal turned to Book. "A shepherd huh?"
"Thought the outfit would've given it away," Book replied. "Is it a problem?"
"Not as long as you don't start preachin' on my ship."
Book frowned slightly and shrugged. "If that's your wish captain, I will respect it."
"Y'all are welcome to the dining area any time," Mal said to the passengers. "Other than that, I'll ask you to remain in your quarters. Bridge, engine room, cargo bay are all off limits without an escort.
Thanks to Book, dinner was unusually varied than the Serenity was used to. Large bowls sat in the center of the dark wood table, filled with rare delicacies. They included pundi rice from Caladan, assorted meats in thick sauces, sweet and spicy soups and marinated vegetables. The guests piled portions of the fare on their plates with serving chopsticks. Small drinking cups were topped off with tea, wine or beer.
"Captain, do you mind if I say grace?" Book asked.
"Only if you say it out loud," he replied, before plucking a dumpling out of a steamer.
Book folded his hands and gazed downward. The others followed suit except Mal. After a moment of silence was observed, everyone eagerly started on their meals. As dinner went on, Inara couldn't help notice the glances she was getting from the others.
"So Inara, you're a long way from Arrakis," Mal said.
"Yes captain. I was raised in a sietch near Carthag, the Harkonnen capital. I was taken there when I was younger and trained as a courtesan."
Inara admitted her past with no sense of shame or guilt. Some of the others looked a little embarrassed. Perhaps her origin wasn't surprising, considering her attractiveness. Mal was deflated to hear it.
"I see..."
"Dune was visited by many nobles and dignitaries. They needed their comforts when away from home," she explained.
Zoe spoke next. "How did you get out of Dune?"
"The Harkonnens are cruel and oppressive to Fremen kind. I could never be happy enslaved in their palace. I'd have cut my way through their guards and returned to the desert if I desired. We Fremen are natural born warriors. But I would be a hunted woman, as the rest of my kind. I couldn't live that way."
Inara thought to herself, sipping some tea from her cup.
"Members of the Bene Gesserit sisterhood infiltrated Carthag. They spoke in secrecy to the Fremen servants, instructed us in physical and mental abilities beyond the understanding of most."
Jayne almost choked on a piece of food. "The Bene Gesserit? They're witches! They control minds and such, don't be tellin' me you're one of them."
Inara shot him a smoldering look. It was all the more effective with her totally blue eyes. Jayne hid his face behind his cup, ashamed by his outburst.
"I received some training, never said I was a sister. And you shouldn't believe fireside stories meant to scare children. They showed me a way out, gave me hope. I bargained, sweet talked and negotiated my freedom. It was a dangerous game, full of courtly intrigue and politics."
Inara finished her tea, smiling at some memory of her triumph over the Harkonnens.
"But I won," she resumed. "Before I knew it, I was escorted off world with a visiting diplomat. I've traveled freely since, offering my comfort to those in need."
Mal looked at her incredulously. "No one makes you whore, but you do it anyway?"
"Captain!" Kaylee gasped.
Inara winced at him. "Only the ignorant would confuse an imperially trained courtesan with a common prostitute. We're learned, cultured, elegant women."
"You can educate me any time, heh," Jayne cut in.
"It's so sad how House Harkonnen must treat your home world..." Kaylee said.
"My people have a prophecy," Inara explained. "A man from another planet will come, and liberate us from our oppressors. We call him the Mahdi, the one who will lead us to paradise."
The rest of the meal continued peacefully. After several hours, the passengers went to their quarters for the night. Mal, Zoe and Wash held a meeting in the captain's cabin. It was slightly larger than the passenger dorms. It afforded a small living room, furnished with some chairs and a low lying table. The three sat around it, contemplating their situation.
"Think Badger tipped the imperials about us?" Zoe asked the the captain.
"Doubt it. He doesn't want the empire's attention any more than we do, he'll keep quiet."
Wash got up from his seat and started to pace. "This is a rare opportunity Mal. Most people in the 'verse will never see spice in their lifetime. You realize we have enough in that crate to purchase our own planet?"
"Too dangerous Wash," Mal replied. "We ain't spice smugglers, that's way out of our league. We hand it to someone who deals in illicit spice, take a percentage, and sit pretty for a long while."
Wash shook his head. "Spice smuggling's not so uncommon. You think the CHOAM corporation tracks every granule? 'Sides, the empire has bigger fish to fry."
"Such as?" Zoe asked.
"Spice is mostly used for instant space travel. Maybe abused by bored nobles who can afford it. It's still arguably the least dangerous drug in the 'Verse. We could be peddling elacca, vertite, semuta to name a few. Narcotics that break a man's will, destroys lives, families."
"Empire doesn't care about drug abuse, it's about control. They'd never let just anyone jump from one end of the galaxy to the next, it's too much power," Mal replied.
Wash opened his mouth to argue, when Zoe raised a hand to silence him.
"Husband, we came here to figure out how to get rid of our little problem. Let's stay focused."
"Agreed," Mal said.
Wash sighed in frustration and headed for the door.
"Where you goin?" Mal asked.
"To check on our course, and maybe play with my dinosaurs."
Mal looked confused.
"He gets bored at the helm sometimes," she explained.
"Ah."
Wash climbed up to the bridge, making his way to the piloting controls. He brushed aside some plastic dinosaurs and sat down. Just as he was about to check the ship's heading, he noticed a blinking light at the corner of his eye. He spun in his chair to a small monitor. The ship's comm panel showed a missed wave was received from an imperial cruiser. Wash checked the rest of the log, spotting a string of codes sent from the Serenity.
"Oh my Buddha," he whispered.
The chair was still spinning as Wash rushed back to Mal.
Mal snapped his fingers. "I got it! Esmar Tuek, that's who'll take the load off us."
Zoe thought on it momentarily. "Last time we met, Tuek was planning to get in on spice harvesting..."
"Willin' to bet he's still on Buzzell?"
"Trading in soostones most likely," Zoe replied.
"Buzzell it is. If Tuek's not there, we'll bury the spice on one the islands. It'll be a loss...but we could always return to it."
"Sure, we shake off the imperials, burn through some funds and come back. It could be a nice source of revenue. We take a little each time, sell it quickly and quietly, I could see it work in a pinch."
Mal grinned, satisfied with finding a solution. The mood was short lived as Wash burst onto the scene.
"Captain, we got trouble."
"What now?"
"Someone was at my controls, waved an encrypted message to an imperial cruiser in the sector. We got a mole on board."
Mal and Zoe sprung from their seats, ready to fight at a moment's notice. Mal threw on his shield belt. He flipped a switch on the generator-buckle. A near invisible field enveloped him soon after. He grabbed and holstered a ballistic revolver. Zoe picked up her trademark sawed off shotgun. Mal ordered Wash to stay on the bridge. On their way through the front hall, Mal and Zoe saw Jayne stumbling toward them, the mercenary was groaning as he held his forehead.
"What the hell happened to you?" Mal asked.
"Ruttin' bastard took me by surprise, didn't see who. Heard 'em runnin for the cargo hold last."
The group made their way to the hold. They stopped to see Simon kneeling by the metal box he had taken with him aboard the craft. Mal and Zoe trained their weapons on the young Suk doctor. Simon turned around from the box and was startled.
"What is this about?" he asked.
"That's what I'd like to know. Who do you work for, Imperial Intelligence, Sardaukar?"
"You're insane."
From out of the shadows emerged Book. "Hate to say it captain, but you've got the wrong man."
Book flicked his eyes to the stairs leading up to the hold's catwalk. Standing at the top of the stairs was Dobson, holding a compact lasgun in his hands. He pointed it directly at Mal.
"Put down your weapons, or the ship blows."
Mal and Zoe laid down their arms immediately, knowing that a lasgun hitting a shield caused the dreaded Holtzman effect. When laser met shield, the convergence of forces caused a nuclear explosion. Due to this, hand-to-hand combat was more prevalent than all out shooting wars.
To be continued...