Disclaimer: I own nothing. It's all Joss'. The date for the colonization of Londinium is arbitrary. If anyone knows a better approximation that would be great. Please Read and Review.
Chapter Two: The Questionable Habits of Pilots
Serenity: January 2519
Zoe stared suspiciously at Fred. After Wash, she felt entitled to hate any new pilot, but it wasn't that. Something bothered her. Fred was too nice, too bubbly for anyone who wasn't Kaylee. She was far too earnest to be trusted. Not to mention mysterious skills that seemed to pop up as needed. It was more than a tad worrisome, and a quick glance at the Captain showed she wasn't alone in her thoughts.
"Where'd you learn a skill like that," Mal asked.
Fred waved a hand dismissively. "I'm a fast learner. Besides the principles are simple." In the corner Jayne spit, polishing his guns, trying to appear uninterested. Fred spared him a look. "If you take into account the power distribution systems dirt side, and the tendency of certain…"
Mal held up a hand to stop her before she entered into another long incomprehensible stream of technobabble. "You think you can rig your little device by tonight? Cause it would be mighty helpful."
"Should be able to. It's not that hard. The problem would be in isolating the museum's power grid from the rest of the city. Wouldn't help if everyone for miles lost their power. People might start to look for faults, and I don't need to tell you that would be a problem because…"
"Alright I get it," Mal said. "Are you sure you can do this with just them spare pars Kaylee got lying around?"
"Well," Fred said. ""I once made a foot operated axe thrower out of next to nothing," she paused. "It also made toast."
Mal blinked. "Got much cause for axe throwing where you're from?"
"Oh, that was just a random thought. What if you had to do battle with your arms cut off? Sure, you'd hemorrhage to death pretty quick, but at least you could take your enemy with you!" Fred smiled brightly.
"Gwai-gwai long duh dong," Mal cried. "Go," he pointed. "go about your fiddling." Fred smiled and nodded. Mal and Zoe glanced uncertainly at each other. They weren't sure what was more unsettling: how cheerful Fred had been talking about hemorrhages, or the love struck look on Jayne's face as he watched her leave.
Londinium: 2215A new earth. Illyria gazed around, her face impassive. A city was slowly taking shape in the distance, but for now there was only a makeshift shantytown. Some had remained vesselside, but most needed to escape the claustrophobic ships. Here they could breath the alien air, feel an unearthly wind. This was a world of open spaces, great expanses, as Earth had been in its youth. Illyria bent down and scoped up a handful of dirt. She let it flow through her fingers.
"Well Blue?" Illyria didn't turn at the voice. She had felt him approach.
"Can you hear it half-breed? The green sings a lament for the Earth-That-Was. You try to remake this world in Earth's image, but the green will not be fooled. Already your kind carves this world into pitiful boxes, lays claim to small kingdoms, and you dared to call me vain. I was God to a god, yet I was never so greedy. This tiny island in the black will not hold them all."
"Right," Spike nodded. "Whatever you say, your worship. Mind you, something smells different."
Illyria rose, her features morphing into a perfect replica of Fred. Spike barely grimaced. He'd become used to it over the years, and it was a necessity. But it still hurt, a dull ache in his unbeating heart. "Everything is changed," Illyria said. "Ground, air, fire, water all are not what they were." She waved, her hand encompassing the grassland, the trees, and the snowcapped mountains in the distance. "This is but a shell, a mask."
"Dirt is dirt," Spike said shrugging. "Can we go? I'm feelin' a mite peckish."
"No," Illyria said. She frowned at the horizon. "Dirt is not dirt. The magic is weaker here."
"Say again, Blue."
"The magic is become thin and stretched. I walked all these world and more besides in my time of glory, but never have I felt a magic so dilute."
Spike frowned, as the implications began to set in. "What's that mean."
"I am uncertain," Illyria said. Suddenly her face was transformed. "Come on," she said. "It's not all bad. Look at you not turning to dust." She gestured up at the alien sun. She grinned. "Let's go see if they have some buffalo wings, or tacos, do you think they might have tacos." She slipped her arm through his, and half dragged him towards the market place.
Serenity: January 2519"Who's he," Inara asked. Fred didn't glance up from her work. Her bunk was crowded. Kaylee had wanted to see what Fred was making, and dragged Inara along. She glanced around the cabin. It was even more Spartan than Mal's. The only decoration was a well-worn photo of a scruffy man with an angry scar across his neck. It was a still photo, probably taken on some border world, where holotechnology was lacking. Kaylee looked up. She had been peering over Fred's shoulder and making excited grunts.
Wandering over to the bed stand and picked up the picture. "Cute," she said.
"Put that down," Fred barked coldly. Startled Kaylee fumbled putting the picture down. There was a chill in the air. It lingered angrily, until Fred shrugged and smiled apologetically. "Sorry," she said. "Didn't mean to snap at ya." Kaylee smiled back uncertainly.
"Wesley," Fred said at last. Answering Inara. "His name was Wesley. He was my Qwa'ha Xahn." Inara frowned softly at the unfamiliar term. She didn't even recognize the language.
"What happened," Kaylee asked.
"He died," Fred stated.
"Oh sweetie," Kaylee said.
"Don't worry about it. It was a long time ago," Fred turned back to her work, jabbing it forcefully.
She beamed, handing Mal her device proudly. "It should work. The power to all the security devices should just die out. Of course, you'd have to be real close, I couldn't find a way to boost the signal."
"Should work," Mal said.
"Well I'm not making any guarantees here, but I don't see why it shouldn't. Though it might be best if I were there to make sure." She smiled innocently.
"Was that you subtly including yourself in our little heist?"
"Aye Capt'n."
"Mind telling me why?"
Fred shrugged. "I wish do some violence."
"Huh," Mal said. He raised his eyebrows at Zoe.
"Seems to me, sir, that with her know-how, little Fred could probably find a way to get there before us."
"True enough. You packing," he asked.
"Don't like guns," Fred said.
"No touching," River piped up, nodding vigorously.
"Can't take a pretty little thing like you along without…"
Jayne stepped forward unsheathing one of his knives. Offering it to Fred, he smiled almost bashfully.
"Thanks Jayne," Fred said accepting the weapon. "That's awful sweet of ya." She leaned up and gave him a quick peck on the cheek, then walked off to the cargo bay, whistling slightly. Jayne brought a hand to his cheek, a dazed look in his eyes.
"This is getting a mite disturbing," Mal said. In the back, Simon opened his mouth. Closed it. Frowned. Opened it again, before turning away toward the infirmary.
Trantor: January 2519
"Hold it right there, miss." Fred turned. At the other end of the museum corridor stood two guards. Their guns trained on her.
"Hey fellas," she said taking a step towards them. "This ain't what it looks like. I mean I know, it's the middle of the night all alone in a locked museum, but honestly I was just looking for…" She sprang into action suddenly. Before either guard could blink she had crossed the distance separating them. Upon them in an instant, she crushed one of their skulls with a single blow. She let the body fall limply to the ground. "Insufficient." She tilted her head, peering at the remaining guard. He blinked slightly, frozen shock. He gulped, and raising his gun, fired point blank.
Fred ran up to the others. "Sorry I'm late. Did you get the whatchamacallit?"
"Yea, all's nice and shiny. What happened to you," Mal asked.
"Got turned around…"
"We heard shots," Zoe said. Her eyes narrowed.
"Oh that," Fred waved a dismissive hand. "I took care of that." Mal gave her a hard stare. She met his eyes impassively.
Finally Mal blinked looking away. "Let's make some dust," he said. As the mule sped back to Serenity, Mal resisted the urge to glance back at Fred. He wasn't sure, but he could have sworn her eyes hadn't been quit so blue before.
