DR: Glad to see that eveyone didn't like the captured officer. Now she see how others react to what they now know...

Chapter 25: Troubled Minds

Boomer watched silently as Starbuck sat and chatted with a collection of pilots from the still growing 'rebel' fleet. Achilles had invited a few members of each ship to come aboard, to plan their offensive. Right now the captains were dining together in the officers' mess, while the pilots and lower ranked 'officers' were gathered in the pilots' club. Achilles had spoken with his officers before the guests arrived. He asked that they gauge the 'rebels', see if they can find out just what kind of people they were. He didn't want to topple one regime just to install another in its place.

So far, most of the people in this 'fleet' were criminals, looking to stick it to the law for once. The hungry gleam in their eyes as they were led through the battlecruiser showed just how far their consciousnesses went. They could only be trusted while the Alliance was a threat. Afterwards, they would grab what they could, likely at gun point and without a care for those they robbed.

But, within the feldercarb were some decent folk. The two from the Wolves Dancer, for instance, were coming across as honest people, at heart. The Alliance labelled them as murderous pirates, but they thought themselves as freedom fighters, robbing the cruel rich and giving to the decent, helpless poor, just like a heroic figure from an old Earth folklore tale. And while they were not quite as pure as they liked to think they were, they were certainly better than the other sort.

The Alliance crews were not in the gathering however. They were back on their own ships, likely trying to come to terms with what they had found out about their own side. Boomer still felt a shiver run down his spine as he recalled his own experience on board the captured 'Nightbringer' cruiser. The organic technology ran throughout the ship, and looked like it had been built into the very fabric of it.

Fortunately, the systems still used standard mechanical interface ports, so the Colonial crews were able to extract data from the core. It was a slow process, as there was encryption in place that had to be broken, but the data was coming.

Most of it, Boomer knew, would not go past Achilles' eyes, plus a few select others. But Boomer was fine with that. He was a Colonial Warrior first and foremost. When Achilles decided what had to be done, the warriors would do.

X-X-X-X-X-X

Commander Harken stared out of the window, his eyes fixed on the dark form of the... vessel. He couldn't bring himself to think of it as a ship, built by the government he had sworn to uphold. Even half destroyed, it extruded threat and menace.

Slowly he brought the glass in his hand to his lips, taking another swig of the brandy within. His jacket was draped over the back of his chair, the insignia of the Alliance in his other hand. As the warm fire of the alcohol ran down his throat, he brought the insignia up, studying it.

As he looked at the silver emblem his thoughts went back to where he had seen the same image earlier...within the Nightbringer. A shiver ran down his spine as he saw once more the off white image on the dark painted metal, while just to the left of the image was an outgrowth of the organic material. A bio-conduit ran up in the nook between the panel and a support beam, looking more like a blood vessel then anything else. From where the conduit was pressed against the metal plate there were growths that spread across the metal with fine tendrils and spreading roots, the paint underneath bubbling and pealing as the panel warped slightly.

The exposed circuits and systems – those still intact – were nightmare combinations of wires, circuits and organic feeds. Those which had burnt out were little more than blackened lumps of charred flesh with half melted wires and circuits jutting out like bones. The smell... Harken had had trouble controlling his stomach, and this was after a year of chasing down and cleaning up after Reaver attacks.

The door chime sounded. He ignored it, not wanting to be disturbed. After a few moments, it sounded again. And then again.

Sighing in frustration, Harken tapped the intercom. "I thought I said no interruptions."

"Tom, it's me."

The use of his first name stunned Harken for a moment, before he tapped the hatch release. A second later it hissed open quietly, and Commander Fairchild stepped in.

As she stepped over to slump into the chair across from his, Harken noted that her normal aloft confidence was absent. Her eyes were dark with horror, and her face more pale than normal. Wordlessly he poured her a tall glass of brandy and pushed it across the desk to her. Wordlessly she took the glass and took a long drink.

"I still can't believe it." She said once she had brought the glass down into her lap. Her eyes were also fixed there. "I saw it, I know they couldn't have faked it... but I still can't believe it."

Harken nodded, gesturing to the report slates scattered on the desk. "The logs are even worse. Everything they did, every strike, every... murder, is detailed in there. Damn the cold hearted hwoon dahns!"

Fairchild nodded slowly, her smooth face creasing as she scowled. "That lieutenant... he didn't even care! I mean... every time we put down a Reaver ship, I couldn't help but remember that once they were normal, ordinary people. I felt... guilt, at killing them, even though it was more akin to putting down a rabid dog. But that... monster, acted like he had been killing ants! He was more furious about being caught!" She took another long drink to steady herself.

Harken turned as he too drank again, to once more look out the window. Only this time his eyes settled not on the twisted hulk of the Nightbringer, but on the ship that had killed it. Thunderchild.

"You know what's going to happen now..." He said quietly.

Behind him, Fairchild nodded slowly.

"Yes. Another civil war." She answered almost in a whisper.

"I don't think there can be any doubt. Not when that thing's..." he pointed to the hulk of the Nightbringer "...existence is made public. Knowing what I know now, I have to wonder..." He trailed off. Fairchild looked at him curiously.

After several seconds, Harken went on. "...I have to wonder if we're on the wrong side."

Fairchild gasped. "Are you saying we should defect?"

"I'm saying we should take a long hard look at what we would be called on to fight for." Harken sank into his chair. "Angela... when I look at that ship..." his hand vaguely pointed towards the silent yet menacing battlecruiser. "...I see what we could be. I took a look at what records they have released. They had a unified system government that lasted over a millennia. There was no war of unification for them. According to the records, it happened over several years, the twelve words coming together."

"According to their records." The doubt was clear in her voice.

"I admit it does all hang on their word. But... they are not like the crew of our own government's ship."

Harken sighed as he sank back into his seat. He passed a hand over his eyes. "I have to ask myself, how can I support a government that uses ships like that, with crews like that?"

Angela Fairchild looked closely at her old friend, slightly shocked to see such self doubt in him. He'd always been the assured, confident one.

"Surely it can't be the whole government?" She asked quietly.

He looked up at her, eyes weary. "The orders were signed by the Minister of Security, counter-signed by the Director of Public Concern... and bear the Presidential Seal."

Angela paled. The Presidential Seal was an electronic 'watermark' that could be embedded into a document. The President himself was the only one who could do this. If the orders for that monster that borne The Seal... that meant that the President himself approved of the missions. Of the cold-blooded murder of hundreds of innocent people... She began to feel nauseous.

"Trouble is... I believe in the Ideals of the Alliance. Of what the Alliance stands for. But now we met a coalition that embodies those ideals, and I see now the wrongness of our own system." He knocked back his drink before looking down into his other hand. "I still have nightmares you know. About what our side did during the war."

Angela nodded slowly. All those personnel with a conscience had their fair share of disquieting thoughts regarding some of the tactics used by the Alliance during the Unity War. Nerve gas attacks on towns and encampments. Biological warheads that had left lethal diseases to this day. Whole towns had been wiped out from orbit, pummelled with missiles. It had been part of a brutal campaign to break the Independents' spirits.

Many had shrugged it off, saying that they would never have used such tactics. But for those who aspired to the ideals, who tried to be honourable and fair, it left a sour taste in the mouth. Some buried themselves in the jobs, others drank.

Slowly Angela stood up and walked over to the window, gazing out at the gathered ships. It was the most ramshackle fleet she had ever seen. Freighters and transports of all sizes and types. Many were worn and battered, the result of a lifetime spent hauling supplies and people between planets. Long range fighters and escort craft flitted between the larger vessels.

At the centre however were some very tough ships. The Wolves Dancer was a well known predator of Alliance shipping. She had engaged that ship several times in the simulators and, even before she had hacked the system and removed the limiters imposed on it, had been very impressed with its strengths. It was surprisingly fast and agile, with a deadly armament.

However, when compared to the ship it now idled alongside, it was like a jury rigged tramp freighter. The titanic Colonial vessel dwarfed everything else in the region. Its lean, sleek form suggested great speed, while the sheer size hinted at great power and strength. From the battle recordings they had been given from the lost Justice she knew that it carried deadly weaponry: she'd seen some of the damage inflicted up close.

Unbidden, her eyes drifted to the twisted black hulk a little separate from the other ships. A thread of anger and hatred began to coil in her gut as she looked at the twisted ship. Nine months after she had enrolled into the academy, she had been due some leave. Then, two days before, the news had come in that her home town had been destroyed.

Nothing had been left of the town. Just a glass faced crater.

The news services had stated that the attack was a terrorist strike by remaining Independent rebels. While her training had given her the belief that such rebels would nuke a town, she also knew that her home town would not have been a target. It had supported the Independents cause. The only thing the townsfolk could have done wrong was that when the Alliance troops rolled in they had surrendered without a fight. The reasons were clear and obvious.

Since then, she'd thrown herself into her training, but once she got out she had requested posts that put her out hunting pirates, Reavers and other such threats.

Now though, she had to wonder if it had not been rebels at all... but rather one of those ships...

Her eyes hard, she faced Harken once again. "Tom, you're right."

He looked up at her, blurry-eyed. "'Bout what?" He asked.

"We are on the wrong side." She stated, swiftly yanking the Alliance symbol from her uniform and tossing it onto the table.

Harken looked at the insignia for a long moment, then back at her. Smiling, he tossed his own onto the table next to hers.

"We'll have to give our crews the choice." He remarked.

Angela shrugged. "After what that ship did to the Justice, I doubt there'd be many who'll stick with the Alliance."

X-X-X-X-X-X

They were all gathered around the table once more, dark and worried expressions on all their faces. Mal stood with his back to the forward passageway. Serenity herself was once again resting in one of Thunderchild's landing bays. The even lighting grid above appeared almost like stars through the windows. Not that any of them really noticed.

"You've all seen it." Mal started. "What the Alliance has created. Am I alone in thinking that this is only the first step?"

Everyone looked at each other, not speaking, for a long moment. Finally Zoe spoke. "No."

Mal nodded. "Way I see it, we have two choices. We can either ignore it, carry on with our lives, maybe go back to our friends on Zi. We've done what we set out to do."

Mal paused for a moment to take a breath.

"Or, we stay. I know Achilles will stay and fight. Question is, do we?"

Wash looked around the group, eyes wide. "Mal, not to raise a sour point, but you've always said the War was over. Now you're saying we fight it again?"

"Achilles is still new here." Jayne put in. "He's going to have trouble getting help from the locals. He'll need some help convincing them to fight by his rules."

"Now if it was just us..." Mal sighed. "...But it ain't. There's several hundred in this boat, and millions more out there at stake."

Silence fell for a moment. Then Inara spoke.

"If we run the Alliance might win, and will use the technology of the Colonials to dominate the galaxy. If we fight and lose... they'll likely kill us."

"They probably will at that." Mal replied, seeing in her eyes the other possible fate for the women, both in his crew and Achilles. Neither of them would say it our loud though. "I'm the captain of this boat, but you can always get off here. So the choice is yours."

No-one spoke for a few seconds, thinking.

"I say fight." Zoe stated first.

Wash nodded slowly. "Fight."

"Fight." That was Jayne, as serious as he had ever been.

Simon's face was hard. "Fight."

"Fight." Kaylee wore an expression no-one had ever seen on her face before: it was hard edged determination.

"Fight." River's tone was laced with suppressed anger, waiting to be unleashed.

Inara turned her head to look at Mal. "Fight." She intoned firmly, a challenge flickering in her dark hazel eyes.

There was a faint shimmering and the sleek form of Ghost appeared amongst the gathered crew of the Serenity, silent as always. Everyone eyed the reptilian organoid for a long moment as Mal held its gaze, then Ghost rose higher on his toes and spoke, his voice echoing around the silent room. "Fight."

Mal looked at them all, a small smile at the corners of his mouth. "Fight."

Zeke: Oh yay! Let's get ready to rumble!

DR: The time of justice is coming. Next week, two more old Colonial veterans arrive, bringing with them some serious pieces of hardware...

O'Neill: You got that right!