Author's Note: This story was originally posted under Star Wars. However, it was rightly pointed out that since the story is almost entirely from the perspective of the Firefly characters, it would be better housed under Firefly. So, I have changed the story's category. Thank you for reading.
Chapter Eight: Jedi Master
"Uh, Mal?" Jayne said from the door into the storage room.
"What?" Mal asked.
"There's a whole gorram army out here. Want that I should shoot 'em?"
"How many?" Mal asked.
"More men 'n I have bullets," Jayne said, defeat in his voice.
"Just shiny," Mal muttered. He looked from the stunned doctor to where River sat on her knees next to the now completely silent Long John. The man had his head bent down to his knees as if in prayer. He'd stopped sobbing, and now was just sitting there with River's hand on his shoulder. She was singing to him under her breath; Mal couldn't catch the words.
"We're humped," Mal summed up.
Jayne backed away as the door exploded open and a wave of security soldiers with Blue Sun patches on their sleeves flooded the narrow passage between the rows upon rows of coffins, some of which contained aliens even stranger looking than the blue tentacle girl.
"Weapons down! On the floor, now!" several of the soldiers yelled.
Jayne dropped his guns and hit the floor as three men descended on him while the rest rushed forward to Mal, the Doctor, River and John. "You know impersonating an Alliance officer is a pretty hefty crime," Mal said. "You 'n me, we're dead men."
"But now we know," Simon said. "Afolabi was right. There are aliens, and the Alliance knows about them."
Then the soldiers were there. Gloved fists struck Simon and sent him sprawling to the floor. Mal knew better than to wait and dropped down on his own. "Simon Tam!" one of the soldiers said, "You and your accomplices are bound by law."
From the midst of the soldiers came the receptionist, her eyes blazing and a pistol in her hand. "Where's River?" she demanded.
Soldiers pointed the way and she stepped from their midst to survey the damage. She saw the open cryo-tanks and the two criminals in Alliance uniform. She saw River on her knees next to the large man the imposters had called her companion. She was singing softly.
She leveled the gun at River. "Who is he?" she demanded.
River stared back at her for the longest time, and then smiled. The receptionist took a step back.
When River's half-audible song ended, the man looked up. The receptionist backed up even further and the barrel of her gun dipped as the man slowly stood. River rose to her feet beside him, orbiting him like a moon. He looked down at River by his side, at Mal and Simon, then finally back at the armed receptionist.
"Her name was Aayla Secura," he said, pointing at the blue tentacle woman. His deep, growling voice silenced the soldiers throughout the passageway. "She was only twenty-seven." He pointed to the first coffin they opened. "Her name was Lorana Jinzler. She was only twenty-two when you killed her." He reached over his head and touched another coffin. He closed his eyes as if absorbing the essence of the body within. "This was a child. Her name was Allara. She was twelve."
He captured the Blue Sun receptionist with a gaze that made the whole room grow as cold as the tanks it housed. "These were my friends and comrades. My family. You murdered them; you cut them. You desecrated their bodies with your mad, Sith-spawned experiments. You want to know who I am?'
He stepped forward and every soldier there brought their weapons to bear on him. "YOU WANT TO KNOW WHO I AM?" he shouted. Then just as quickly his voice dropped to a whisper of death. "I am Jedi Master Quinlan Vos, and I bring you justice!"
With a roar and a stomp of his foot, Vos's hands exploded in a torrent of blue lightning that flashed through the woman and every person still standing. The woman's screams and the screams of the soldiers behind her rang through the passage, reverberating back into a cacophony of death.
The silence that followed was just deafening. Mal picked himself up and looked over his shoulder at thirty dead soldiers and one dead receptionist. Their bodies still steamed. Then he looked at the man standing in the middle of the hall, his face warped by rage, his eyes flickering with an odd, semi-orange light.
Suddenly River swung around to face him. She placed her hands on his, ignoring the danger of the lightning that lived there. She looked up at him with an expression of such openness, such trust, it even made Mal wince. "Now you know who you are," she whispered loud enough for all to heear. "Don't forget again."
Quinlan Vos blinked down at her, and the flecks of orange faded quickly. He took a step back, sucked in a large gulp of air, and nodded. Then he moved to the coffin holding the body of the one he called Lorana Jinzler. As Simon and Jayne picked themselves up, Vos stared intently at the cryogenic tank before he seemed to find what he was looking for. His fingers moved over a side panel, and with a beep a hidden compartment opened. "As I thought," he said. He still spoke in an angry growl.
He reached in and removed a cylinder perhaps ten inches long. He tossed it to River. "Don't turn it on," he said.
"I won't," she promised. He moved down to the coffin holding the alien he called Aayla.
"You knew her?" Simon asked, finding the courage to speak as he also picked himself up.
"I have known her since she was a child," Quinlan said. "She was my padawan learner, and later a dear friend." His voice caught and he covered the sound by finding yet another compartment in her coffin. He took the cylinder therein and hooked it to his belt. He then looked up and around. The coffins were stacked five high, and at least ten deep.
He moved down a few steps, then leapt up. And up. "Liou coe shway duh biao-tze huh hoe-tze fuh ur-tze," Mal muttered.
Quinlan Vos jumped to the top-most level in a single un-aided leap, at least twenty feet, and took from it yet another cylinder. He then hopped easily down to the floor to the stunned expressions of Mal, Simon, Jayne and River.
"Huh," Mal whispered. "So, what are you again?"
"Later," Quinlan said. He strode purposefully over the bodies of the slain, smoking soldiers and disappeared through the door. River followed in his wake and the three men realized they had little choice but to do the same. As they approached the door, they heard a strange humming-buzz sound, followed by screams. The three of them rushed out into the hall to discover Vos had dispatched another five heavily armed soldiers so quickly none had even managed to get off a shot.
"Hope this guy's on our side," Jayne muttered.
"He's heading toward the database interface," Simon said. Mal confirmed that indeed Vos had disappeared around another corner.
They rushed after and saw the large man standing with one hand outstretched. Down the hall, on either side of the security door, two Alliance soldiers were flying up and down against the floor and ceiling with sufficient force to leave blood prints.
"I don't believe it," Simon whispered.
"Like the lightning thing was any better," Jayne growled.
Vos dropped his hands and the bodies dropped to the floor. The Jedi continued toward the door and with quick, confident moves grabbed the two cylinders he retrieved from the cryo coffins and activated two beams of gleaming light, one green, one blue. He swung the swords so fast they formed nothing more than paths of lights, and then just as quickly deactivated them.
The door fell inward, cut free from the security lining.
"What in the name of all that's holy is this man?" Mal whispered.
River, standing halfway between Vos and her brother, turned and smiled. "He is everything they wanted me to be." Suddenly she sang: "From the bank and from the river, He flashed into the crystal mirror, Tirra lirra, by the river, Sang Sir Lancelot."
Vos stepped just inside and turned back to them. He waved with a single hand. "Our knight beckons!" River said with a gleeful laugh.
She skipped barefoot down the hall as Simon, Mal and Jayne followed. The inside of the room was taken up largely by a circular depression surrounded by a control surface and view screens.
They heard footsteps from outside the door. Quinlan spun around, but did not go for his lightsabers as Samhael Afolabi came running in. "They pulled the perimeter guard," he said as he arrived. "I knew something had to be happening. Where are the rest of the guards?"
"Lightning boy there corpsified 'em all," Jayne said, hitching a thumb toward Vos. "Says his name is Quinny Boss or some-such."
"My name is Quinlan Vos," the Jedi corrected. "I remember now."
Afolabi nodded without apparent surprise and stepped through the depression to the first control surface. His fingers ran smoothly across the pad until Corlingua letters appeared.
Quinlan Vos
Born: 24:10:11 BrS
Capture: 16:5:21
Occupation: Jedi Master
General, Grand Army of the Republic
Race:Kiffar
Origin:Kiffu
Midichlorian Count:18,000
Native Power:Psychometry
"And there you are," Afolabi whispered. Next to the words was a remarkably accurate holographic representation of the Jedi from before the battle of Geonosis.
"So, you're an alien, huh?" Mal asked, the light suddenly shining in his eyes.
"That's an odd term," Vos said. "I am a Jedi Master under the Galactic Republic."
"He means you ain't from these parts," Jayne said.
"Fair enough. I am not. I'm not even sure where I am." He turned and looked down at Afolabi. "You knew I was Jedi?"
"I suspected you were not from this System," Afolabi said. "I have never heard of the Jedi. However, I knew there were records kept here not accessible anywhere in the Alliance. This is a Blue Sun facility. I was allowed in as a Paliamentary representative, but only with limited access. I had to kill an administrator to get even marginal cooperation."
"Why are they doing this?" Simon asked. "All of this. All those bodies. What are they trying to accomplish?"
"To make weapons," River said. "Like Quinlan."
"But why?" Simon asked. "The war is over. They won. Why do they need more weapons?"
"Let us find out," Afolabi announced. He began working the console as the others gathered. "Sadly, we have limited time before more soldiers come. But I do believe with a secured hard-line connection, I should be able to…"
The center of the room flickered, and in moments Vos's image and statistics were gone, replaced by a shadowy figure with pale hands and a large robe with a cowl deep enough to hide all but his wrinkled chin.
"Hello, Master Vos," a wizened voice said from the darkness of the cowl.
The whole room fell into a deep, profound silence.
Vos stiffened as he stared at the image. "You must be Dooku's master," Vos said at last. "Master Windu's Sith Lord. Darth Sidious, is it?"
The figure merely stared at Vos. "You are an anachronism, Jedi Vos," the shadowy figure said. "A man without a place. Without a time."
"I am a Jedi," Vos said.
"There are no more Jedi," the figure said. His grin looked hideous and skeletal, with the gleam of metallic teeth. "The battle in which you were captured marked the end of your Order. All the Jedi are dead."
Mal watched intently as Vos stared at the hologram, as if searching for a way to prove the statement was a lie. From the lowering of his shoulders, Mal guessed no such way was found.
"What are you doing with these people?" Vos demanded.
"I am saving their pitiful lives," the figure said.
"From what? What evil could be worse than the Sith?"
"Perhaps you shall live to find out," Palpatine said. "Then again, perhaps not." Slowly the holographic shadow turned its cowl-covered head and looked at River. "My child. We have not forgotten you. Soon, you shall be ready."
River stood frozen, like an animal caught in the gaze of a deadly predator. She shook her head with a whimper, but was not able to get any words out. With a beep, the hologram flashed away, leaving the room empty, but also somehow brighter.
"Did anyone understand what is happening here?" Mal asked.
"We need to leave this place," Vos said. He lit his laser swords. "Now!"
He spun and sliced a man-sized circle in the walls and darted out of the room. The others followed in his wake. Every time he came to a wall, he flashed his swords and cut a hole, providing them direct access to the exterior.
They emerged into the secured courtyard in front of the building just as an explosion rocked the ground. Mal turned to see a ball of fire rising from the center of the Academy and knew that without Vos, they would have all died.
Their hovercar was still waiting for them, along with a second car Afolabi had obtained. They piled into the two cars and fled into the twilight.
