Disclaimer: Don't own Firefly or Serenity. Just playing in Joss's sandbox.
Ok, I wrote and re-wrote the meeting with Caroline Burgess way too many times as I tried to decide who should be in the room. I think I finally got the right mix.
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Heart of Stone
Chapter Ten
Mal and Zoe agreed that they didn't need everyone to go to the meeting with Mrs. Burgess. Simon had already waved Petaline at the Heart of Gold before they landed to inquire after Jonah, promising to come visit his godson and give him a check up, obviously feeling guilty over practically forgetting the fact he had a godson.
Kaylee had told him no one would hold that against him, considering everything that had happened recently, but he was determined to do what little he could to make up for what he uncomfortably suspected would be all too frequent absences.
Kaylee also said she wanted to see the baby as well, although it was obvious to everyone - expect Simon - that Kaylee wanted to keep an eye on him.
"And it's not that I don't trust Simon," Kaylee had told Inara, sitting with Inara in her shuttle, letting Inara comb her hair before they landed. Inara made a 'mhmm' noise in the back of her throat as she gently pulled at a tangle in Kaylee's curls, wondering how her adopted mei-mei had managed to get what looked like bits of engine flux wire caught in her hair.
Kaylee went on, "But I saw how those girls were looking at him at the christening – 'cause once that whole, you know, imminent death problem we had last time was cleared up, they actually had time to notice Simon, and I definitely saw some of them eyeing him – and there's a lot to be said for him on first glance, fancy Core doctor all polished and well spoken." Kaylee grinned up at Inara. "Sure got my attention!"
"Yes, we all noticed," said Inara dryly as she deftly pointed Kaylee's head back down and began twisting two polished mahogany hair sticks into Kaylee's hair.
The smile on Kaylee's face changed to a look of grim determination, "So there ain't no reason to let him be put upon, ummm, I mean, no reason for…" she faltered, trying to come up with a reasonable way to describe her somewhat illogical unease at the situation.
Inara finished twinning up the hair sticks and leaned down to take Kaylee's chin her hand. "You could just put a tracking collar on him," she joked, doing her best to cover her own turbulent emotions.
She did not want to go to Deadwood.
She did not want to go to the Heart of Gold.
She did not want to go to the place where Nandi was dead and buried.
She did not… have a choice.
Inara sighed slightly, mentally scolding herself for lacking the courage to visit her dear jie-jie.
Meanwhile, Kaylee's eyes briefly glazed over as her brain provided her with several sexy variations on the idea of Simon wearing a slave collar. She had to shake her head to snap herself back to reality, almost putting Inara's work into complete disarray. "Thanks 'Nara," she said cheerfully, and then went off to find Simon.
Meanwhile, Mal had taken Zoe aside and told her to go with the two kids to keep an eye on things, considering how his young doc and mechanic both had habits of inadvertently getting into trouble, good intentioned as they were.
Zoe's maternity clothes were less intimidating than her old outfits, and her swelling belly gave her more of a look of someone who needed to be protected rather than a fearsome gun hand in her own right, but, with her calm eye and gleaming Winchester, she was still formidable and perfectly suited to act as bodyguard. So Simon, Kaylee, and Zoe planned to get off at the Heart of Gold before River brought Serenity closer to town.
Jayne was open in his disappointment that he couldn't go straight to the Heart of Gold, but his surly scowl would only help in his role as intimidation factor, always handy to have alongside when talking with anyone about an upcoming job negotiation. River, meanwhile, wouldn't impress anyone at a glance, but Mal was damned if he was walking into this particular meeting without his trusty psychic at his side.
Mal had assumed Inara would be going with the others to the Heart of Gold as well. He was more than a little surprised when she came up to him as they approached Deadwood and told him she would take the precaution of bringing a silver 69-Mauser-9MM she'd bought when they'd been on Beylix a few weeks back, but she didn't anticipate any trouble at an initial meeting, as if it was already agreed that she'd be coming with him.
Mal had blinked, thrown, first, by her assumption that she was part of the meet, and, second, by the fact Inara had felt the need to buy a gun, and then he managed to open his mouth, and they commenced arguing. Loudly.
"Mal," she had argued after he had gotten through his initial objections, "either I'm part of this crew or I'm not, and after everything's that's happened, I am indelibly part of this crew, so don't try and tell me different!"
"Iffn' you're crew," he had tried to argue, "then that means you take orders from me, and my orders are-"
"For me to stay nice and safe on the ship?" she asked acidly.
"It could be dangerous going in and while I'm there I need …" he fumbled for the words to express his anxiety at exposing Inara to what might be coming, "I need-"
"What? You need someone you can trust?" she asked, misinterpreting where he was going with his argument, "Need to have someone who knows twelve different types of self defense? Someone who has taught you how to use weapons? Someone who knows how to stay rational in the face of emotion?" She listed each point of her qualifications like the crack of a whip
"Inara-" he had tried to interject, but she went on:
"Someone who can observe important minute details about surroundings and body language? Someone who can act as an important social passport to all sorts of situations? Someone who can be the distraction, the back up, the escape plan and the rescuer?" she snarled, her mask of gentility completely gone – removed, as it had been so many times, by the emotions this insufferable man caused to well up out of her.
"I've been all that and more," she went on. "I went with you the first time we met this woman and her oh so unlamented husband, and I don't see what's changed to try and keep me away now."
"Gorram it, we didn't know how bad it was going to be last time," shouted Mal. "Nan-uh People died last time!"
Inara went suddenly, gravely, silent and gave him a long, assessing look, the anger slipping off her face to be replaced by an expression of almost Zen like stillness.
Mal felt almost like fidgeting in the silence that went on and on, trying desperately to hold on to a stoic show down stare, trying to ignore the awful pounding in his ears of his own heartbeat.
In a way, he wasn't surprised they had gotten to this point; they had been so damn polite and awkward with each other earlier when they had sat down to tea in Inara's shuttle, they might have been two teenagers on an arranged outing supervised by a the most stuffy and hawk eyed of great-aunts.
Inara finally broke the silence. "Nandi?" she asked carefully, as if weighing the heavy weight of the emotive word on her tongue. "Was that the name you were going to say?" she asked quietly, almost sadly, almost conversationally.
Mal dropped his gaze and mumbled, "I don't want the same to happen to you." He looked up, meeting her eye with much less stoicism. "I couldn't save her-" he began, but Inara interrupted.
"My God Mal!" she exploded, Zen calmness gone. "You think I don't think the exact same thing? I was right there when it happened. You think I haven't gone over the scene over and over in my mind trying to think of what I could have done differently? I- I - I should have killed that hudun when I had the chance!" Her composure was crumbling away, tears welling up.
Mal opened his mouth – then closed it. He mentally kicked himself for not thinking Inara would have taken the blame of Nandi's death as much as he had. "Not your fault," he mumbled, "But-"
"Renzi de shang di!" Inara swore heatedly, anger and sorrow warring with each other in her voice, "You think I want to see you run off into danger again? Why do you think I left? I thought my heart couldn't take it if I saw you get hurt and I stupidly thought distance would somehow magically erase that worry! That hopping a few systems away would give me back all my years of training that let me get as close as you can to a person and feel nothing, something you somehow managed to erase without even trying!" Her breath, and her anger, petered out. "Please, please don't push me away. Don't… don't let me push you away again," she whimpered.
Mal grabbed her in his arms and held her close, murmuring tender words in her ear, murmuring endearments, telling her he was a fool to let her go, that he'd never be such a fool again, that he loved her.
Inara gasped quietly, and looked up at him with tears still in her eyes. "Oh Mal," and kissed him. "How could we be so stupid?" she asked when they broke apart. "I love you Malcolm Reynolds, in all your exasperating glory."
He grinned, even as he kissed her, and when they broke for air again he told her with a chuckle, "Well, I've been called worse things."
However, before things could progress any further, River's voice crackled over the ship speakers in the clinical voice she had come to use when she was doing several math problems at once to keep herself in the moment: "Coming up on Deadwood's atmosphere. Initial landing for first disembankment in twenty three minutes and forty four seconds. Forty three seconds. Forty two. Despite Kaylee's heroic mending efforts, landing shockers are currently only at thirty two point two percent capacity. Everyone please prepare for a bumpy ride."
They landed first at the Heart of Gold to drop off Zoe, Simon and Kaylee, arriving as most of the house were coming back from church. The whole crew was greeted cheerfully, and Mal promised Petaline to come back and stay long enough for a proper visit soon.
Several of the girls made professional – and not so professional – little pouts of disappointment to see Jayne leave as soon as he had arrived. Mal left the mule behind with Zoe, figuring it was safer to leave them with a separate means of transport, given how things always did seem to go the most wrong when things seemed at their most innocuous.
"You're going to meet with the Widow Burgess?" Petaline asked as Mal cast one more glance over the place before leaving, feeling slightly uneasy at having the crew split up. He'd been nervous lately if he went too long without his crew in sight. So many lost recently, he didn't want to lose anymore.
"Hmm? What? Oh, yeah," he confirmed, startled from he's reverie. He swung his gaze from the horizon to look at her more closely. "How'd you guess?" he asked curiously.
She shrugged. "We've been getting more than the usual folks coming in, all here on business to see the widow." Jonah started to fuss and fidget, wriggling like he wanted to escape, and Petaline rocked him in her arms soothingly.
"Huh," said Mal thoughtfully. He tucked that bit of information away. "Well, we've got to head out. Keep an eye on them," he instructed, only partly joking.
"See you tonight!" called Petaline before turning back to Simon, letting him take Jonah from her arms. Simon began asking analytical questions about the baby's health while Kaylee cooed: "Who's got his mama's pretty eyes? Yes you do! Yes you do!" Jonah grinned and happily babbled cooing noises back at her, a few teeth already in his smile.
A few of the girls approached Zoe, asking for some pointers on shooting, clearly remembering how well she had handled herself during the infamous Battle of the Whores, as even the 'Gold girls referred to it now.
River landed Serenity just on the outskirts of town and insisted they take 'the scenic route,' as she called it. As they went through the town, headed towards Mrs. Burgess's homestead, Mal noted not only a nervous energy among the crowds, but also, surprisingly, an almost excited undercurrent to it.
Mal began to suspect River wanted him to see the amount of folk gathering in town, more than seemed usual, all talking to each other in a manner that suggested something big was imminent.
As they approached the Burgess homestead, Mal found he was catching snatches of familiar conversation.
He had become, he realized, used to walking by angry, fearful muttering folk whenever the ship touched down in ports ever since the Miranda Wave, people comparing notes about the Wave, Miranda, Reavers, news from the Core, and speculation on what might happen next.
People here on Deadwood were much the same, talking in brief clutches along the sidewalk, swapping talk back and forth in urgent undertones, but there seemed to be a much more focus to the talk here.
The conversations Mal caught were a mix of the wearingly familiar:
'-and I heard no one ever came to bury 'em or anything, just left to rot where they lay-'
'-acting like 30 million dead is no big deal-'
'-said it was suicide, but since when do those overfed Parliament members know how to even use a sword?'
But at the same time, Mal caught wind of something new as he walked down the street:
'-actual answers, they said!'
'-that's right, nine o'clock, everyone-'
'-not gonna act like sheep, waiting for the next slaughter-'
There seemed to more people around than just the town's population, people with the look of having just arrived. A fenced in grassy pasture area was crowded with horses cropping, all of the posts had horses tethered to them, and people were having trouble finding a spot for wagons and flitters - far too many for just the going-to-church crowd. There were even a few other parked shuttles dotting the nearby landscape.
"Lil' Albatross," said Mal out of the side of his mouth as he nodded pleasantly to a couple they were passing by, "How bad is this going to get?" He took her arm as if they were merely a father and daughter out for an aimless Sunday afternoon stroll.
Jayne paced a step behind them, scanning the crowds, clearly a merc on the job and on the look out for trouble and impossibly anything else. Inara walked along the other side of Mal, her mask of polite composure firmly in place.
River let Mal take her arm while taking in slow and measured breaths, clearly trying to steady herself. "So much talking," she said, rubbing her free hand against her temple, as if trying to physically banish the barrage of mental chatter. "Everyone's asking the same question – what will the widow say?"
"I'm wondering that myself," he grumbled.
River gave him a sharp look. "I told you everything I know," she scolded. She put her nose in the air like a huffy teenager, "My apologies, bàba, for not being omnipotent."
"No offense meant, little one, just nervous about the job, is all," he said soothingly, giving her hand a little pat of reassurance.
"You should be," muttered River. "Mrs. Burgess knows the tune you dance to."
"And what tune would that be?" he asked with a weary sigh, fairly sure he knew the answer.
"Justice," said River simply.
"Great," groaned Mal quietly as they came to the gate of Caroline Burgess's home. Having morals could be a real hóulóngténg sometimes.
They were ushered inside with polite speed to a fancy parlor where a full service of high tea with all the trimmings had been set out. Mal was reminded of Badger's attempts at gentility and was curious to see how they were going to stack up as compared to the real thing.
"Nice spread," remarked Jayne with approval, helping himself to a plate or two of the food and sitting down.
The servants told them that Mrs. Burgess was very pleased they had come and would be joining them shortly, as soon as she had brought the baby to the nursery.
Baby? Mal mouthed silently to the others in confusion.
Inara's eyes briefly flicked to River questioningly, but River merely lightly touched a finger to her lips with a little smile. She went over to the table and poured herself a cup of tea with all the solemnness of a religious ritual, and, grabbing a cucumber sandwich to munch on, perched herself delicately on the armrest of the chair Jayne had appropriated. He ignored her as he proceeded to make inroads on a plate of cookies. Inara and Mal stayed standing, as alert as a pair of greyhounds before a race, although Inara was hiding it slightly better.
The door opened and Mrs. Burgess came in, wiping her hands on a small towel. There was a small smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. She tucked the cloth in a pocket as she swept her gaze around the room, taking them in and quickly shifting her expression to a bright social smile.
"Mr. Reynolds, I'm so glad you could make it." She turned her gaze on Inara. "And I don't believe we were introduced before," she said lightly, as if the time she had met Inara hadn't been hours before her husband's death.
Inara made a graceful curtsey that was probably something she had been vigorously trained in since the first day she entered the Guild. "Inara Serra, formally of House Madrassa, now of the crew of Captain Malcolm Reynolds," she said with proud ceremony, making it sound as though being part of Serenity's crew was to be part of a royal household.
"And these are also part of the crew?" asked Caroline, glancing at the incongruous sight of Jayne and River sitting next to each other, Jayne wolfing down the cookies and River delicately sipping her tea, pinkie finger extended.
"The big one's one of my gun hands, Jayne Cobb," introduced Mal. Jayne made a little grunt noise of acknowledgement. "The little one, River, she'd be my pilot, best in the 'verse."
River smiled at Mal and Mrs. Burgess. "Pleasure to make you acquaintance," she said with just as much charm as the Core bred debutante, that, born with a few less brain cells, she might have been. She gave Caroline a sharper second glance. "Your hands are very clean," she remarked with a thoughtful frown.
"Uh, thank you," said Caroline, non pulsed.
"So, what's the job?" asked Mal bluntly, to distract Caroline from River's latest non sequitur, and also not really in the mood for the time consuming social graces. "You said it was some kind of drop off?"
Caroline poured herself a cup of tea and sat in the largest armchair in the room, more like a throne than a chair, unperturbed by Mal jumping straight to the main point. "It's slightly more complicated than that," said the widow, without a tinge of abashment at her initial misleading description.
"It usually is," said Mal dryly. "Thing is, we keep our ears to the ground, so to speak, and things we've heard suggest that things on Deadwood are about to get… interesting. Might that have anything to do with this slightly complicated job? You were a bit vague as to the details," he added. He picked up a sandwich off the tray, and, leaning against the table casually, took a bite and munched in his best devil-may-care façade.
"I prefer to always keep details close the vest, rather than broadcasting them across the verse," Caroline said pleasantly, "I'm sure you'll understand when I say I didn't want to reveal too much over the waves."
Mal swallowed the rest of the sandwich in two gulps. "So what are these complications?" he asked, trying not to growl as he prodded the point of the conversation like a stubborn mule.
"There's going to be a meeting tonight. I've sent word out and most of the folk on this world a few nearby ones will be there. I want to hire you and your crew," she gestured slightly with her tea cup at Jayne, "as gun hands for crowd control, and then act as a… martial escort to any who wish to get off world after the meeting when decisions are made about the new direction things will be going in."
Mal scratched his chin nonchalantly, "Way I hear it," he said casually, careful not to look in River's direction, "you're planning something big."
"Do you know your Earth-That-Was history?"
"Yes, but I reckon you're about to lecture me anyway to make some sort of point," he sighed.
Caroline gave him a sour smile at his quip before starting: "The Roman Empire brought peace, prosperity, civilization, indoor plumbing, medicine, education, and much more to the far flung parts of the globe they claimed. They delivered on campaign promises in a way that would never again be close to be replicated by succeeding civilizations."
She paused to take a sip of tea.
"But when they fell, they fell hard. They became too big, and those in charge had too much power. The empire provided everything needed for absolute power, and, as they say, absolute power corrupts absolutely. And, as big and powerful as the Roman Empire was, that's nothing compared to the Alliance."
"Gottcha, you think the Alliance's has got too big for its britches, no argument here," agreed Mal. "So what?"
"Tomorrow the Alliance is going to be smaller by one moon."
"You really are actually going to secede?" asked Mal. "Wuh tzai chien shr ee-ding ruh dao shuh-muh run luh bah!" he swore reverently under his breath.
River had informed him of a few intuitive flashes she had, as well as the facts she'd put together from the strings she observed being pulled so far, of supplies being surreptitiously moved around, of interesting lists of people being contacted by Mrs. Burgess, but, as prepared as he was for this course of events, hearing it out loud from the instigator herself still managed to flat foot him.
"I anticipate quite a lot of support from other Rim worlds," said Caroline.
Mal almost wanted to stomp across the room and slap the smug look off her face.
Instead he settled for rubbing his forehead in frustration. "Why am I getting the biggest scene of déjà-vu?" he asked. Then, without waiting for an answer he snapped, "Oh, right, I saw that little tragedy play out seven years ago, and I know how it ends."
"It'll be different this time," said Caroline confidently, taking another sip of tea.
"Why?" he snapped.
"I've got a few cards up my sleeve, starting with some actual concrete facts regarding Miranda. Since the Alliance isn't providing any answers, I've decided to step up and provide the information I have about the Wave."
Mal shifted his weight slightly, trying to keep on the mask of simple smuggler and gun hand, trying to look like an ordinary criminal who didn't know anything more about Miranda than anyone else who'd seen the Wave, trying very hard not to look like the person who'd started it. Whatever she had to say, he'd pretend it was the first time he'd heard it.
But River made the whole pretense unnecessary as she decided to pipe up. "A time for every purpose under the heavens," she sing-songed. "Now is the time for the truth," she said. "Two and two are stronger together. She is two and we are two – add up the pieces to make the picture bigger."
"Eh? What's the nian ching de talking about?" asked Caroline, sounding like she was deviating from a script for the first time.
River pointed at Mal. "Bàba got the word out." She smiled proudly at her surrogate father. "Lit the sky with the fire of truth. Gave voice to the dead."
"Captain Reynolds," Caroline said slowly, "What do you know about the Miranda Wave?"
"Give her the highlights," suggested River cheerfully as she snagged a cookie from Jayne's plate.
"You sure Lil' Albatross?" asked Mal.
River gave him a look of scorn for doubting her.
Mal sighed heavily, reminding himself that if he was going to drag a psychic along for every ride, he better start listening to her. He quickly tried to think of the best way to present the facts without revealing too much.
"Weeeell" he said, dragging the word out to buy a few more seconds, "long story cut really, really short – my pilot here was in pretty much the worst of wrong places at the wrong time and, basically, uh, overheard some higher up's knowledge of what had happened on Miranda."
He glanced at River, who gave him an encouraging nod. Inara slipped her hand into his as he went on: "When they realized what she knew she was already running, so the Alliance sent some problem solvers after her to shut her up. She ended up on my ship getting the hell out of the Core, trying to outstrip the Alliance reach." No need to go into the details of that particular fiasco of a 'simple' passenger run, he thought to himself.
"When I realized how those that were after her were willing to kill anyone, and I do mean anyone, around her…" He took a breath and Inara squeezed his hand reassuringly as he thought of all those who had died at the hand of the Alliance in their brutal effort to reclaim River, "me and mine went to find out more, figuring dying digging up the truth was better than just waiting for them to come kill us. River led us to what was left of the Miranda colony where we found the recording. So… we sent the Miranda Wave."
He closed his eyes wearily, thinking of all the people who had been killed because the Alliance was unwilling to admit it ever made a mistake.
He opened his eyes and looked pointedly at Mrs. Burgess, waiting for her reaction.
Utter silence from Caroline Burgess, her mouth actually hanging open in shock as she stared at him, bug eyed. Then she threw her head back and laughed uproariously.
When she managed to get her breath back, shaking her head in disbelief, she exclaimed reverently, "The gods look down and laugh! Ni zhen bushi yiban ren!"
"We can offer you proof. Maps, recordings," added River.
Caroline looked at her. "I… believe you. It's too unbelievable to not be true. And," she gave a soft snort and added softly, more to herself than the others, "I was raised to accept things on faith now and then."
"And what do you have to offer?" asked Mal, irritable at her laughing.
She sobered, and said in a more or less calm voice, "When we secede, we're going to have Greenleaf on our side."
"Greenleaf?" Mal found himself casting his mind back to battles and strategic military plans. "Greenleaf wasn't that big in the grand scheme of things. It was a major thorn in the Independent's side to have a pro-Alliance world that far out, but there weren't any major shipping routes that way or military bases. All it did was serve as a good place for the Alliance to help themselves to-" he stopped, mid thought, as it hit him.
Caroline Burgess smiled as she saw him catching up. "Medical supplies, that's right, Captain Reynolds. Pharmaceutical supplies for things like hospitals, and ships, and, oh, you know, air processers for newly colonized worlds."
"That gorram killer air came from Greenleaf?" asked Jayne, crashing into the conversation.
She nodded placidly. "Yes Mr. Cobb. The Pax was never meant to leave Greenleaf. It was a failed experiment, and should have been tossed in the trash and never been allowed on a single human trial, let alone the numbers the Alliance exposed it to. The people of Greenleaf take the Hippocratic Oath seriously. I should know - I grew up there. I was raised to believe that there is nothing wrong from making a good profit from good work, but it has to be good work."
"Ok, so Greenleaf is mad enough about Miranda to go along with this madcap idea of yours," summed up Mal. "Still don't see how that'll make a major difference this time around."
"Greenleaf is willing to supply anything needed to show the Alliance we mean business."
Mal blinked, taking the implications of that in. "How bad is this going to get?" he asked, echoing his question from earlier.
Caroline paused, weighing her words, before she answered. "I want my daughter to grow up free, living her life without worrying about being poisoned by her own government. And to achieve that freedom, no matter how you slice it, people are going to get hurt. If you want to leave, there is the door," she said imperiously.
Then she put down her teacup and stood up to cross the room and stand right in front of Mal.
"I supported Unification. God forgive me, I was wrong." She held out her hand. "Please, help me make it right."
Mal, alarm bells ringing in his head, grasped her hand in agreement because he felt there was no other choice. For all her silk and social graces, it was like talking with a general. Hell, he thought to himself, they say politics makes for some strange bedfellows.
"So," he asked conversationally, as the momentous moment passed, "You have a daughter?"
She smiled, a real smile, not a social smile or a polite nothing, but an honest look of happiness as she told him, "Her name's Belinda." She held up a hand, as if to physically forestall questions, "And yes, she's adopted, and no, there were no threats involved – the birth mother wasn't interested in childrearing."
After going over some more details of Caroline's initial plans, and few more cups of tea, Mal got Zoe on the comm link and told her to get over to the Widow Burgess's as fast as she could tear Simon and Kaylee away from the drooling kid. Zoe was probably going to kill him when she found out what he'd signed them up for – no need to put off the inevitable.
However, when the three arrived, Zoe's face remained placid as he explained what was going on. Kaylee and Simon were the ones full of questions, which Mal mostly ignored, letting the others fill them in. Caroline distracted Simon by asking if he would be willing to give her daughter a check up.
"I'm a surgeon, not a pediatrician," he muttered under his breath, but managed to dredge up his best manners and agreed and smiled as Caroline lead him to her daughter's nursery.
As the two left the room, Mal eyes remained on Zoe, worried for many reasons, not the least of which was knowing that, for all that people commented on how he was the one that had never let the war go, the silent secret he and Zoe shared was how he'd been the one who'd had to forcibly take the gun from Zoe and be the one to tell her, to order her, to stop fighting. And now he was the one to tell her he'd signed them up to be center stage for a new cause.
She didn't look surprised.
"It will be different this time," said Zoe. It wasn't a question.
"One can only hope," said Mal, with his best we-are-so-screwed smile.
Mal and company were at the town hall that night, well before the meeting was due to start, ready for what promised to possibly be one for the history books. Mal was getting a little tired of witnessing events that scholars were sure to turn into dry academic papers long after he was dead.
The town hall, a building that acted as the location for town meetings, the schoolhouse and occasional courtroom, quickly overflowed, and the meeting relocated to the nearby soccer pitch. A platform was hastily erected and some basic loudspeaker equipment was dragged out from the theater.
There was a lot of chatter, but when Caroline took the stage an expectant hush fell over the crowd.
"As you all know," she began, "I've issued an invitation across our little world for anyone interested hearing about the Miranda Wave and, more importantly, what we're going to do about it." She a lunched into a short speech explaining how the Pax had been plucked from the garbage bins of Greenleaf to turn those that the Core looked down on into guinea pigs in an effort to make them better puppets.
"And have they even so much as apologized?" she asked angrily. "Let alone done anything to try and make restitution? No!" There were murmurs of agreement from the crowd, people nodding to each other. Was this the same rush her husband had felt to get the crowd to sway to his words, Caroline wondered. It was an intoxicating feeling.
"What happened on Miranda was not an act of God, not some simple technical mishap, it was a criminal act, and, worse, a crime that the Alliance refuses to acknowledge as such, prattling on about their good intentions, and never mind they delivered good Rim folk, settlers like you an' me, down the road to hell."
A few yells of assent came from the crowd.
"I put it to you, to all of you," she said, her voice taking a slightly lower class accent, an appeal to the rest, "by no other authority than being mad enough by this injustice to speak up, I put it to a vote, yes or no, do we take a first stand, here and now, declare our independence, and tell them the abuse, the corruption, the deaths, stop here? Do we draw a line in the sand, here and now, and say 'enough'?"
There were murmurs of agreement in the crowd.
"I say we tell the Alliance and anyone else who would meddle in what is none of their business to go to hell, and declare that we won't be their chess pieces and guinea pigs any more!"
The murmurs were growing louder.
"Do we declare we have the right to breath?" she asked provocatively.
"Yes!" the crowd cried together.
"Do we agree we have the right to make our own decisions?"
"YES!"
"Yes or no, do we vote that we no longer a part of the Alliance?"
"YES!!!" the crowd was one full throated roar.
There were cheers and hollers. Laughing triumphantly, Caroline asked the crowd, "I say that we change our name to fit the new times! No longer the moon Deadwood, this is the world of Liberty! Do you agree?"
Another full roar of assent from the crowd.
Cutting through the noise, a panicked voice called out, "This is insane!" It was the magistrate, looking absolutely appalled at what he had walked into. Clearly no one had bothered to invite him to the meeting.
"Ah, my dear magistrate," said Caroline, looking straight at him but speaking loud enough for the whole crowd to hear, "I do believe your position has just become obsolete."
There were some snickers in the crowd. He simply gaped at her.
"You are free to join the new government of Liberty, and run for a new position, or you can leave, it is your choice."
"You can't just-" he started to protest
"I do believe we just did," she said, cutting him off before he could start listing the many problems they were going to have to face. No need to dampen the crowd's morale right away.
"The Alliance will not take this lying down!" he said, his voice high and panicky as several hands grabbed his arms.
"Captain Reynolds," called out Caroline loudly, "please escort the former magistrate off world." She turned her gaze back to crowd and said with a smirk, "After all, someone has to deliver our declaration back to the Core."
Translations
Mandarin:
mei-mei – little sister
jie-jie – older sister
hudun - bastard
Renzi de shang di - Merciful God
hóulóngténg - pain in the neck
Wuh tzai chien shr ee-ding ruh dao shuh-muh run luh bah - I surely annoyed someone or other in a past life, didn't I?
bàba - papa
nian ching de - little one
Ni zhen bushi yiban ren – This is unbelievable