Firefly: The Geshen Wars: The Rrift

Chapter 3: Flashback

…..

I don't own any part of the "Firefly" franchise. I'm sure you already knew that, but just sayin.'

…

Chapter 3: Flashback

"Any sign?" Mal asked. It had been a couple of days since the Rrift attack, and they'd had to do some fancy maneuvering to get away; Rrift warships—John had told them there was no other kind—were extremely well armed and faster than the Serenity. But they'd managed to lose them in the asteroid belt. However, in the process, they'd also lost both River and John. I hope they're not guests of these "Rrift" I've heard about.

"Negative. I…wait. I'm getting a faint distress beacon…" Wash held up the 'phones to his ears, "Sounds like the beacon on John's shuttle."

"If he's able to broadcast that signal, it means he's alive. I hope River's with him." He sobered. "Approach carefully, Wash. Remember, this could be a trap."

…

Flashback: "Yes," said the tall, dark-haired man known to them only as "John Smith." "I can provide you with the diamond slate you desire, in exchange for the materials we agreed upon." Something about his speech patterns sounded a little odd to Mal. A little too precise, too controlled. Almost as if he were speaking a foreign language.

"Good," said Mal, "how soon?"

The man hesitated a bit, confirming Mal's suspicions. He didn't actually have the slate. That in itself would have been a deal-breaker in the good old days; more often than not, when a client said he had to "get" the goods, at best it meant he first had to steal them, then shift holdership of same to someone easy to trick, a way of fencing stolen property before you actually went to the risk of attempting to steal it. Now for the second stanza in that song: "But if you'll just trust me with the cubes, I can give you my personal word, blah, blah, blah…" Which was usually a polite way of saying, "just give me the stuff and forget about payment." It was so very discouraging. And here he thought he'd actually found someone legit. (Odd, though; not many people would go to a back alley dealer such as himself, a known dealer in contraband, for library data cubes. When Mal had asked, in a roundabout way, why "John Smith"—of course that was an alias-hadn't simply purchased the cubes on the open market, the reply had been, "I'm trying to fly beneath the radar." Which only added to his puzzlement.) "It will take me a little while to acquire the slate, but I can have it for you in two days' time. Where might we meet?" He took another sip of his drink, which appeared to be coffee. Odd; Mal didn't think it looked entirely like coffee. Or smelled like it.

Mal thought. Truth was, they didn't exactly have the cubes requested, and for exactly the same reason that he had feared Smith didn't have the slate. It would take more than two days' time to "liberate" them. Time for a long shot. "Well, I admit, I had hoped we'd be able to complete this transaction today," hoping you take that as meaning I already had the cubes, "but we have another pressing appointment to keep, and won't be back in this area for another week. I suppose," he said, rubbing his chin as though in thought, "we could meet back here." The two, along with Jayne, were currently in a saloon that, like the rest of the town, had clearly seen better days.

"I suppose a week is acceptable." Again, something about the way the guy spoke set off little alarm bells in Mal's highly trained and extremely suspicious mind.

But a score was a score. It would keep the Serenity flying, and keep supplies coming in. And the guy was offering a substantial quantity of slate. "Alright. A week it is, then." He moved to get up.

The man raised one finger. "There is one small condition." Uh oh. "I'd like to see your ship first."

Alliance man? Gotta be. "Why's that?" Mal asked, guardedly. He noticed Jayne stiffened, and could tell his comrade also found this suspicious.

"I'd like to make sure that both it and you are up to the task. After all, anyone can say they have a ship."

Mal glanced at Jayne, who glanced back and shrugged. Your call. "Alright. I take it you know better than to try to bring any weapons on board, however."

"I do. And I trust you will understand if I don't bring any samples of the trading material."

Okay, so not so dumb as I had hoped.

The Serenity was parked out by the edge of town. It was barely visible from the back alleys that Mal and Jayne normally used when this close to Alliance territory—no point in advertising their presence on the main streets. On the way there, Mal surreptitiously got on his communicator with Shepherd Book, who was preaching a revival in the small local church. "Get back to the ship now," he voiced, quietly. After all, if the guy was Alliance, they'd have to lift quickly; there'd be no time to hang around for anybody.

And if the guy was Alliance, they'd have a corpse in need of last rites. Hopefully only his.

Up the ramp, Zoe was waiting. She appeared unarmed, but Mal knew better. Wash would be at the controls, ready to lift the ship off in a moment's notice. If Derrial wasn't already back on board, he might get left.

But the guy had just stepped into the entranceway of the ship when he stopped dead, a look of puzzlement on his face. He turned his head up, and sniffed, as though testing the air. Is he implying my ship stinks? Thought Mal, his temper starting to rise. But in the next second, the man said something that really got all their attention: "Where is she? Where is River Tam?"

….

Meanwhile, River had come up behind Zoe, attracted by the proceedings. When she saw who was standing in the doorway to the hold, her expression became one of amazement…with a mix of disbelief thrown in. "John?"

"River? Is—is that you?" The two approached each other, almost warily at first, until River practically threw herself into his arms. His arms went around her, and he cradled her head against his chest. "Where were you? I looked everywhere…"

River's expression was more intense than any other time they could remember. "I…didn't make it."

"Oh, River. What did they do to you, girl?"

"I take it," said Mal dryly, "that you two know each other."

…

Later: they'd allowed the man calling himself "John Smith" and River a small room where they could talk. Simon had been reluctant; River was his kid sister, and she'd already been through enough in her life. The last thing she needed was to be left alone with some strange man. "Relax," said Mal. "They're in a room by themselves, yeah, but the door is blocked open and Zoe's right down the hallway. Besides, do you really think anybody could do anything to River against her will?"

In the small room: "I, I looked everywhere. River, what happened?"

She'd managed to get herself back under control, at least to some degree. Just John being here was a huge help. She'd thought she'd never see him again. "I…got caught." This next part was going to be hard. "They…did things…" She choked up.

"No, wait. Don't try to tell me what they did to you. Show me." And he put his hands to either side of her head, leaned his forehead up against hers, his eyes piercing into her own….

The planned escape…she was to meet him on the surface. His shuttle was faster than any human craft, and together, they could get away from this horrid place.

But for her, discovery. The Academy didn't take it kindly when one of their star "pupils" tried to go AWOL….

Horrible images of inhuman experiments, all performed in the name of the "greater good." Needles, scalpels, electronic probes, some proceedings carried out without benefit of anesthesia…

…and then the loss of brain function due to deliberate injury. {{How could anyone, your own people, do this to you?}} But she had no reply, for there was no real answer.

Weeks of trying to get a coded message to her brother, Simon Tam. Finally, his liberating her at the cost of his entire fortune, and his promising career. Then, life aboard the Serenity, and the companionship of Mal, Zoe, Wash, Kaylee, Inara, Derrial, and even Jayne, to a degree….

He broke contact, horrified at what he was sensing, needing to regroup. Then he as swiftly re-established it. {{Here. Let me see if I can help.}}

He adjusted his thoughts, adapting his own alpha, beta, and theta patterns to hers, synching wave function. There was a gap in her mental patterns, a disjunction of sorts. He reformed his own brain waves to, hopefully, conform with what was missing in hers….

River came to clinging to him, more tears running down her face. But she was feeling normally again, feeling and, more to the point, thinking normally, for the first time in a long, long time…

"You…you…oh, I've missed you!"

"I looked everywhere for you." He held her close. "I never stopped, River. Never. Until now."

She sniffled, wiping her nose, and looked up at him, in the eyes, those black eyes she knew to be false and true at the same time. "You have to tell them."

He frowned. "I…don't know if that's such a good idea, River. You know I'm not human, but…"

"But you have to tell them, John. It'll be alright. They, they're not like the others. They're good people."

"Even good people might be the wrong people, River."

"Please. Do this. Do this for me, would you?"

He sighed. "You know I'd do anything for you."

….

"Okay," said Mal. The two had had their time together, their obvious reunion seeming to result in a different River, one more…together than before. She actually hugged Inara, and cried on Simon's shoulder, a move that worried him. But she assured him she was more alright now than ever. She was actually speaking in complete sentences, making more sense than ever, almost as though she'd never suffered any brain injury. "I think it's obvious you two know each other. Care to fill us in?"

John and River were sitting across the table from the others, her hands on his arms, which were placed on the table top in front of him. "Very well. River has told me I need to tell you the truth, and I shall. Perhaps then you'll know why I sought to obtain those data cubes from you.

"River and I met at the Academy. She was a 'student,'" he put the words in obvious quotes, "but I was straight-up captured. My ship had been damaged by…some enemies, and I needed a place to go to ground while my ship's self-repair function-*"

"Wait," broke in Kaylee, "'self-repair function? What's that? I've never heard of that."

"That's because…" he sighed, glancing at River, who just nodded encouragingly, "…I am…not from around here.

"I'm not really a human being. My kind are…shapeshifters, to a limited degree. What you see is not the way I really look."

"Oh, right. And I'm the Emperor of Man," snorted Jayne. Mal held up a restraining hand.

"Alright. You say you're not human? What are you?"

"My kind are called the Geshen. I come from a star far across the gulf of space, beyond what you call the 'verse."

"Wait. Back up. There's nothing out there, beyond the 'verse."

"In that you are very much mistaken. There is a great deal beyond the 'verse, other solar systems, other starfaring races, other cultures. I am a representative of one."

"You said you're a shapeshifter," Mal began, cautiously. He glanced at Zoe; she nodded back. Good old Zoe. He could always count on her to be ready for anything. "Show us your true form." His own hand wasn't far from his gun.

Again the being known as "John Smith" glanced at River, whose hands had gone nowhere. She nodded to him: go ahead. It's alright. I promise.

"Perhaps," he said to her, "perhaps you'd best stand on the other side of the room…I'd wouldn't you to…be hurt."

"I'm staying right where I am." Mal noticed Simon tensing up. Just what hold did this guy have on his baby sister? She seemed so much more determined, now than before. More like the person she would have been if…

John Smith sighed. "Very well." And…

There was a micromoment of shifting, in which his form seemed to dissolve, becoming something pliable. Then, in the next fraction of a second, it resolved, and everyone there, with the exception of River, gasped.

Sitting before them, in the same place as the one calling himself "John Smith," was a nightmarish, alien creature: a reptilian biped with a saurian-like triangular head. Scales covered its entire body, scales that shifted, opening and closing. The saurian head held four deeply set, night-black eyes, protected by bony ridges. It had four arms, with the lower set looking to be substantially stronger than the upper set. Its hands were seven-fingered claws, the talons of which looked to be razor sharp, sporting two opposable thumbs per hand. Overall, a more alien creature, one more likely to instill a primitive fear in humans, could scarcely be imagined.

Only the fact that River was still sitting by the thing's side, apparently completely comfortable with its bizarre appearance, kept them from going for their guns. As it was, Jayne pulled his ever-present gun and covered the thing. Again, Mal held up a warning hand: stand down.

You can't hit it without also hitting River.

"So you see, Simon Tam," said the creature, in a sibilant voice that somehow still sounded a bit like the voice it had used when in human form, "your sister's and my relationship is not what you were afraid of."

"Oh?" said Simon, "aaaand just exactly what is your relationship with River?" It was obvious that River wasn't about to let the alien thing out of her sight.

The creature calling itself "John Smith" glanced at River, its—his alien face somehow showing an emotion very much like affection—or something more. "I am not completely certain, but I believe she regards me as her pet."

"Good boy," murmured River, stroking the scales on his neck.

To be continued…