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Necessary Nightmares

"Funny, sir, how you always seem to find yourself in an Alliance-friendly bar come U-Day, looking for a quiet drink."

"And funny how you always seem to remind me of that fact," countered Mal. "In fact, I believe you've been known to use that exact same sentence."

"Mostly because it's the exact same situation," responded Zoë, keeping her voice as perfectly even as always.

This bar was a little classier than their usual haunts, though. Here on Boros, some figured to pretend they were in the Core — or, at least, close to it. Zoë caught sight of Inara in the distance, talking up a fancily-dressed man who clearly had more money than sense. She wasn't a companion anymore, but she'd become a fairly effective logistics agent for Serenity over the past few months.

Some things were the same. But a lot had changed. And not all of it for the better.

Seeking a distraction — the captain wasn't yet drunk enough to start his fight — she let her gaze drift to the vid 'caster in one of the corners. It was, of course, showing the U-Day festivities in the Core, but she could amuse herself by considering how jian all the people in the crowds looked.

Then she became aware of what the reporter was saying. "…the people's spirit is still strong despite the actions of the traitors behind the Miranda hoax."

She was on her feet before she realized it. "Turn that zhòu mà thing off!"

Mal was looking at her strangely. "Zoë? You okay? It's just a Unification Day celebration. Happens every year along about this time."

"They just called Miranda a hoax. A hoax, sir!"

Now Mal wasn't the only one looking at her strangely. Out of the corner of her eye, Zoë could see Simon quietly beginning to move in from the edges of the crowd, but a burly man in less-than-fancy clothing stepped in his way to challenge her. "That's mostly 'cause that bù gan xiâng xìn broadcast was a fake. Probably some gaggle of Browncoats behind it."

She managed not to respond, but her fists clenched.

"Hey," he continued. "You're dressed kind of like a Browncoat yourself."

"So what if I am?"

"Zoë," said Mal quietly. She ignored him.

The burly man tried again. "You probably think that thing was real, huh? Just like all those other legends about Reavers and how they kill and eat folk for fun?"

She couldn't get to him fast enough, kicking over tables and chairs and possibly a couple of people on the way. Zoë's hands tangled into the heckler's collar and she slammed him against a conveniently-located wall.

"Get your hands off me, woman! Have you gone crazy?"

"My husband," she snarled in his face, "did not die at the hands of Reavers over a gorram hoax. Miranda was real. I saw it for myself."

"Did you now," he purred.

"Zoë," said Inara softly from her elbow. "I know you've been having nightmares again, but remember what I told you? It wasn't real. It was just someone using vid equipment to manipulate images."

She released the collar and spun to face the other woman. "Are you fâ kuáng? You were there too!"

"We were all there, Zoë," said Simon, having finally gotten close enough to be heard. No doubt he had one of his shots ready for her. "Remember? You've pulled us all into your nightmares at some point or another." He glanced at Zoë's heckler. "Please excuse her. The transmission came right after her husband was killed and she's been having some difficulty keeping things straight."

The burly man straightened up, looking down his nose. "She's not just a traitor; she's dangerous. You ought to lock her kind up."

Zoë lunged for him again, but Mal caught her and twisted her arms behind her. "Knock it off!" he hissed in her ear. "You're gonna get us all crosswise of those purple bellies sitting over there."

Slowly, she felt cool thoughts overcome the hot anger in her mind. The Miranda transmission hadn't been received well by the governments on Londinium and Sihnon. They'd acted as quickly as they could to issue statements discrediting it, and had, unfortunately, been quite effective with respect to those folks on the Core worlds.

Serenity's crew, still needing jobs, had decided to lie low for the moment. They had other evidence, including Miranda's coordinates. Evidence they'd release in its own time. Things weren't over yet, though, so they had to keep their senses about them.

Zoë took a deep breath, though she couldn't quite muster a false or ingratiating smile. "I'm sorry. They're right. Let me buy you a drink."

The other man snorted and stomped off.

"We'd best leave," said Mal, and she followed him out as he continued. "So much for sitting in Alliance-friendly bars come U-Day. Maybe that's a lousy idea after all."

No kidding, she thought, but couldn't find the energy to say it out loud. Irritating folks was one thing. But lying?

That was another. That was treason to Wash's memory, no matter how necessary a nightmare it had become.

Translations:

bù gan xiâng xìn - unbelievable
fâ kuáng - crazy; mad
jian - stupid; shallow
zhòu mà - damn; curse

This fic opens with a line of dialogue from the episode, "The Train Job," which was written by Joss Whedon & Tim Minear. Chinese translations were obtained from mandarintools dot com and all errors are my own.