Author's Note: Yes, I know, I'm evil. I would like to say that this little 'incident' was planned fairly early on in the story, mostly because I had things to say and I couldn't think of a better way to say it. :) I quite understand and respect if some dislike it, and I do appreciate hearing opinions one way or the other. If you don't like it, tell my why, please! While I may not (and probably won't) change anything, it's still good to know what others perceive as a mistake or weak writing, so I can keep it in mind in future writing. :D Thank you for your honest reviews!
Doctor Quote of the Day: "I'm not really a cat person. Once you've been threatened by one in a nun's wimple it kind of takes the joy out of it." --Ten, "Fear Her"
Firefly Quote of the Day:
Jayne: Oh, I think you might wanna reconsider that last part. See, I married me a powerful ugly creature.
Mal: How can you say that? How can you shame me in front of new people?
Jayne: If I could make you purtier, I would.
Mal: You are not the man I met a year ago. --Jayne and Mal, "Our Mrs. Reynolds"
Once
I knew all the tales
Its
time to turn back time
Follow
the pale moonlight
Once
I wished for this night
Faith
brought me here
Its
time to cut the rope and fly...
–Nightwish,
"Dark Chest of Wonders"
The Doctor was on his feet and moving before the words fully registered in Inara's brain, and so his hands closed over the rifle, pulling it out of her hands before she thought to fire it at Mal's murderers. She stared up into his face, into the strange dark eyes. "Don't let go yet, Inara," he said softly.
"He's dead," she whispered, and felt the world begin to crack.
He touched her face gently, but she saw the fury in his face as he turned away. "Vharaj, what have you done?" he roared, tossing aside the gun.
Had the Mokshar been human, he might have turned pale. "It didn't work," he said quietly. "Y-you were right. It was different, with the Reavers–they were nearly mindless–or with someone who was caught unawares and only asked to do small things. But he wouldn't cooperate..."
"And so you forced your way in. You tore his mind loose from its moorings and cast it adrift." The Doctor's fists clenched, and it was with visible effort that he forced himself to relax.
Numb, Inara moved slowly toward Mal's body, to kneel on the carpet beside him and turn him over, pulling his head into her lap. He was so pale, so still. She remembered the awful moment, all those months ago, when Saffron had lied, had said she was Malcolm Reynolds' widow. The terror that had driven Inara to his cabin to find him lying still and pale on the floor, and the relief when she realized he was only drugged. There was no such relief waiting for her now. He wasn't breathing. There was no pulse beneath her fingers. But his skin was still warm...
"Fix it, Vharaj," the Doctor growled from somewhere overhead.
"What? I can't–"
"You can. You said it yourself–a Makai Empath of the First Order. That means you were trained in the Resurrection Ritual."
Silence. Then, "If you are aware of the Ritual, Doctor, then you know what it entails."
"Yes, I do."
"But it must be a life willingly given and I–"
"You aren't willing. Yes, Vharaj, that's very obvious. But I am willing. Your skill, my life. And you won't even have to deal with me afterwards, will you?"
"Why would you do this? You barely know this man. You would die for a human you don't even know?"
"You, obviously, don't know me at all, Vharaj. I'm beginning to wonder if I ever knew you. But that doesn't matter. You will do this, or I'm going to get really angry."
Inara finally realized what she was hearing, and she stared up at the Doctor in shock. "What are you saying?"
He dropped to one knee beside her. "The Mokshar healers were among the greatest in the Universe," he said quietly. "And the very best of their healers were trained in a certain ritual that, under the right circumstances, could bring back the dead. I saw it done once, during the War. A very great healer performed the Ritual to restore life to a child caught in the crossfire of a battle." He glanced toward Vharaj, his eyes unreadable. "The price is another life, willingly given. In that case, the healer chose to offer her own life, but as I understand it another can also choose to pay."
"It shouldn't be you," said Inara.
He lifted his eyebrows. "Then who should it be? I'm not about to letyou do it, Inara."
"Why not?"
He rubbed the back of his neck. "Setting aside my issues with chivalry, I also would rather be dead than explain to Mal, if this works, why the woman he loves is dead. He would not thank you if his life came at the cost of your own."
"But you–"
The Doctor smiled his sweet, crooked smile. "Death has been my companion these long centuries. She's a patient lady, and I've kept her waiting far too long." He leaned forward, kissed Inara gently on the forehead. "And it will be worth it." He got back to his feet and turned to face Vharaj. "Well?"
"What if I refuse?" The alien's crest was completely flattened to his skull. He looked, Inara thought, completely miserable. The consequences of his choices finally sinking in at last?
"Why should you? I'm the one paying the price, not you. And," the Doctor added, "you might look at it as a chance to atone for some of your recent sins. Cleanse your soul a little, maybe?"
"I don't understand."
"Don't you? Think about it, Vharaj. You're a Mokshar. You know what you've done is wrong–your own biology is telling you so."
The alien's eyes widened. "I–I–"
"Didn't think about that little hitch, did you? Forgot that your people's beliefs are, quite literally, hardwired into your own DNA? And that turning your back on it has consequences a lot closer to home than you might like. Keep it up, Vharaj, and I bet you'll be dead inside a year, killed by your own sin." The Doctor clicked his tongue. "Now that's religion for you."
McKinney shifted, looking as though he were going to start protesting again, but as the Doctor's fierce gaze pinned him he hunched his shoulders and looked away. "Simon," said the Doctor. "Keep an eye on that lot. I don't want anyone to try anything stupid. Oh," he added, "and as to what you and I discussed earlier–the data disks are waiting for you in the TARDIS. And River–please lock her up and put her somewhere to gather dust, will you?"
River nodded solemnly. "Karma works," she said. "You'll see."
The Doctor turned back to Vharaj. "So what will it be, Vharaj? Time to make a choice again–and you'd better make the right one."
The alien spread his hands. "I will do as you ask, Doctor." His eyes flickered–he looked strangely thoughtful. "But...you will have to release my mind for me to perform the ritual."
The Doctor held his gaze for a long, long moment. "All right," he said. Nothing outwardly visible occurred, but after a moment Vharaj let out something that sounded very much like a sigh of relief. "Now what?"
Vharaj stood silent, head bowed. "I could use this opportunity to turn against you, Doctor," he said finally.
"You could. Are you going to?" The Doctor's chin lifted, though he remained otherwise still.
"...No. You–you are correct. I–I have placed my soul and self in–in danger. To betray you now...would only damn me further." He looked up then. "I just wanted to stop the Alliance's injustices, Doctor!" he cried. "To make up for my failures in the War! How is that so different from what you do?"
"Free will, Vharaj," said the Doctor gently. "There is nothing more precious in all of Creation. You have to give your enemies the chance to redeem themselves. Even when they choose otherwise. That, my old friend, makes all the difference."
Vharaj nodded. "I...think I understand." He straightened then, feathers ruffling along skull and shoulders. "Are you sure about this, Doctor?"
"I am."
"Then we had better begin. There–there isn't much time."
Moving carefully, Zoe picked her way across the debris to where Commander Twofalls sat, no longer neat and dapper, covered in blood and looking numb. She eased her bulk down next to him. "How are your men?" She'd heard Jayne's report to the Doctor over her comm. I just hope Mal's all right.
"Seven dead," he said softly. "One died of his wounds before we got him to the hospital. But it looks as though the other wounded will pull through all right."
"I'm sorry."
He shook his head. "There would be many, many more dead without your warning," he said. He let out a soft huff of bitter laughter. "I grew up in the Core, you know. Before I came out here, I thought Reavers were just campfire stories. But I've seen vids of colonies hit by them, and I've been out there in person, burying the dead."
"I wish they were just stories," said Zoe, thinking of Wash.
Twofalls took a deep breath and added, "I checked up on your identity before we came out here."
Zoe went very still.
"That was an extremely convincing badge, you know," he continued. "I wish I knew where you'd gotten it. And, of course, there are a few wanted posters floating around. You're a very striking woman, Corporal Alleyne. It's difficult to forget a face like yours, particularly when you spend as much time as I do behind a desk and there's not a lot to look at other than badly spelled reports."
Very slowly, she allowed her hand to inch toward her holstered pistol.
He turned to face her. "As I said, though–without your warning, many more people would be dead. So...thank you." He held out his hand.
Zoe stared at it, then back at his face, and raised an eyebrow.
"I'm not going put handcuffs on you, I promise," he said with a tired smile. "Anyway, I have the feeling that you'd shoot me dead before I got that far."
She took his hand. "Probably not dead," she said. "Not today, and not after what we've just been through." She eyed him thoughtfully. "I'm curious, though–why did you believe me, if you knew who I was?"
"Aside from the very large, very scary man you had backing you up? Because I've seen the Miranda vids, and I believe them. I'm a cop, you know. And," he added, "I could not for the life of me see what profit there was in walking into a police station and demanding backup like that. So I decided there might be some truth to your story."
"That was quite a risk, Commander. Not the sort of thing I've ever seen in an Alliance cop."
He shrugged. "Clearly, you've been hanging around with the wrong kind of cop. I'm really not interested in politics, and aside from impersonating a federal officer, you haven't committed any crimes around here. That I'm aware of." He looked past her shoulder. "Rung tse fwo tzoo bao yo wuo muhn. It's the damn medic again. She's going to insist on tying me down until she's sure I'm not wounded."
Zoe looked over her shoulder and saw a small, plump, and very determined looking older woman bearing down on them. "You don't want her to?"
"I've got a million other things to do if I want to see my bed sometime in the next forty-eight hours," groused the commander. "And she's going to want me to put it all off while she stitches up every damn scratch."
Zoe looked at him. "I hope one of those things wasn't issuin' an arrest warrant for me and my crewmate," she said.
"I plan to play dumb for all I'm worth. Anyway, I'm far more interested in the terrorists behind those Reavers–since I expect that was one of the things you were truthful about."
"In that case, Commander, I'd be happy to distract the medic for you. She looks like a grandmother. I'm about to become a mother. I'm sure she'll be far more interested in me than you."
Relief rose off Twofalls like steam. "Really? I could kiss you."
"Please don't. I barely know you." But she smiled as she allowed him to pull her to her feet.
He turned to go, but paused. "It was an honor to meet you, Corporal Alleyne," he said. "And an honor to fight beside you."
Zoe studied him for a moment, then gave him a tired salute. "And you, Commander. Never thought I'd meet a cop I liked."
"Why, thank you. Though I'm not sure what that says about me, as an officer of the law..."
As she turned to greet the medic, her thoughts turned again to the rest of the crew. Why haven't I heard about Mal yet? What's going on?
Chinese Translations:
Rung tse fwo tzoo bao yo wuo muhn: Merciful God, please take me away
