Categories > Books > Harry Potter
Fireflies of the Old Republic
41 reviewsHarry awakens after thousands of years into a galaxy not his own. With only fragments of his past life, he must learn to survive in a galaxy on the brink of war. StarWars/HarryPotter/FireFly.
5Original
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. This story also contains characters and situations created and owned by George Lucas, various publishers including but not limited to Lucasfilm, Lucas Arts, BioWare, and Obsidian, Ent. Lastly, I do not own Firefly/Serenity. This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by Joss Whedon, various publishers including but not limited to FOX, Ent. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
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Fireflies of the Old Republic
Genre: Sci-Fi Action Romance
Spoiler: Books 1 - 5
Pairing: Harry/River
Rating: M for Mature (17+)
Chapter 1 - Duo
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A holo-video starts its show, and in it there is a stunning image of Earth.
Earth shines magnificently as it once did centuries ago. The cradle of human civilization. It was once a beautiful lush blue world thought to have been created by God himself.
Suddenly, white pops blossom on the surface, and moments later, ships -huge, intricate space-freighters- come roaring from the surface, cruising with a thunder of gas and flame.
A woman's voice tells the sad story of the fall of Earth. Her voice is eloquent and serene. "Earth-That-Was could no longer sustain our numbers, we were so many."
The holo-vid continues, displaying another solar system; and sun like our own, surrounded by many more planets than ours; they in turn are surrounded by many moons.
The woman continues. "We found a new galaxy; dozens of planets and hundreds of moons."
The image shifts to a terraform station; a bunker-like complex many miles across, air billowing from it, electricity running over it.
"Each one was terraformed; a process taking decades, to support human life. To be new Earths." The woman says.
There is an image of a magnificent planet, its beauty far surpassing that of our beloved Earth. It's a futuristic megalopolis, gleaming and cool.
She continues. "The Central Planets were the first settled and are the most advanced, embodying civilization at its peak."
The holo-video shows an empty desert plain, and then pans out to show the entire desert planet. As it goes even further, it shows the edge of the entire galaxy.
"Life on the other planets is much more difficult. That is why the Central Planets formed the Galactic Republic, so everyone can enjoy the comfort and enlightenment of true civilization. That is also why the Republic has been tested in many wars. The Republic is a joint democratic system of many prominent species across the Galaxy."
During the last image a woman steps in from of the holo-vid. Before her is a group of twelve-year-olds, serious and well dressed. They sit with their heels under a sparsely elegant tent, small wooden desks with imbedded screens in front of them. The tent is on a lawn surrounded by lush foliage. People walk about and vehicles glide quietly overhead. A utopian vista.
"But there hasn't been a war for centuries. So there should be no need for soldiers, yes?" a girl asked.
The woman who explained mankind's history in a nutshell is the class teacher. She is a beautiful, dark skinned instructor in her mid-twenties. "Yes, these days there is no great need for lots of soldiers. Men and women who serve the Republic are generally stationed on Outer Rim worlds, as Peace Enforcers."
A boy raises his had. "I don't understand. In the most recent war, why were people like the Madalorians even attacking us? Were they not a civilized race?"
"That's a good question. Does anybody want to open to that?" the teacher asks her class.
"I hear they're brutes and cannibals," a girl says.
"That's only Reavers," says another boy.
"Reavers aren't real!" a girl says to the boy half frightened half annoyed, as if speaking of the Boogieman himself.
A boy replies seriously, intense. "Full well they are. The attack settlers from space, they kill them and wear their skin, and rape them for hours and hours . . ."
"We will enjoy your silence now!" snaps the teacher in a Chinese dialect. Then she continues calmly in English. "It's true that there are . . . dangers, on the outer planets. So let's follow up on Borodin's question. With all the social and medical advancements we can bring to the Outer Rim worlds, why would they fight so hard against us?"
"We meddle," says a girl quietly. The girl's round hazel eyes holds much wisdom and clarity of thought.
"River," the teacher calls her, "I'm sorry?"
River is a dark, intense little girl, writing with one hand and typing with the other. Her typing consists of holding a long wooden stylus and tapping either end down different columns of Chinese characters on her desktop screen. She is a good two years younger than the other kids. "People don't like to be meddled with, we tell them what to do, what to think, don't run, don't walk. We're in their homes and in their heads and we haven't the right. We're meddlesome."
The teacher gently takes her stylus and approaches River. "River, we're not telling people what to think. We're just showing them how."
Then suddenly, without pause, she violently shoves the stylus into Rivers forehead.
The reality-like dream forces a girl awake violently. An older, 16-year-ol River, sits in a metal chair, needles fixed in her skull. One is precisely were the teacher struck her in the dream, and is being adjusted by a technician. A screen monitors her brain pattern.
The lab she's in is cold, blue, and nearly everything is made of steel. Stainless machines and gadgets are meticulously placed around the monitoring room. Most beep and churn as they function.
"She's dreaming," says a technician with amusement.
"Nightmares?" another asks.
"Her neural kinetics is off the charts. I'd say scary monsters, perhaps?"
Dr. Mathias watches River Tam indifferently. He is the head of the operations being conducted on the young woman, and in charge of the entire facility, and her staff. He is not a likable man; he's cold, and more than a little satisfied with himself. "Let's amp it up. Delcium, eight drops."
Behind him stands a Government Inspector, observing. His quiet scrutiny makes Dr. Mathias more than a little nervous.
The Inspector is in the shadows, but his uniform indicates substantial rank, as does the eagle-crested baton. It's no longer than a ruler, and he's clutching it in one gloved hand.
Dr. Mathias continues his demonstration. "See, most of our best work is done when they're asleep. We can monitor and direct their subconscious, implant suggestions . . ."
River starts convulsing, mewing in misery. The inspector starts forwards, slowly.
"It's a little startling to see, but the results are spectacular. Especially in this case; River Tam is one of our star pupils." The doctor says this with pride.
The Inspector steps into the light. He is rigid, cold, and staring at the girl with no emotion at all. His name and identity is unknown to the babbling doctor..
"I've heard of that," says the Inspector.
"She's a genius. Her mental capacity is extraordinary, even with the side effects." Dr. Mathias goes on.
That triggers something in the darkly clad Inspector. "Tell me about them."
"Well, obviously, she's unstable . . ." he begins. "The neural stripping gives them heightened cognitive reception, but it also destabilizes their own reality matrix. It manifest as borderline schizophrenia . . . which at this point is the price of being truly psychic."
The Inspector moves forward, his eyes never leaving the young River Tam. He asks, "What use do we have for a psychic if she's insane?"
"I don't have to tell you the security potential of someone who can read minds. And she has lucid periods. We hope to improve upon the . . ." Dr. Mathias goes silent, thinking. "I'm sorry, Sir, I have to ask; is there some reason for this inspection?"
The Inspector turns towards him and smiles. "Am I making you nervous?"
"Key members of Parliament have personally observed this subject. I was told their support for the project was unanimous. The demonstration of her power . . ."
The Inspector swivels back to looking at River Tam; unimpressed with the nervous Dr. Mathias. "How is she physically?"
"Like nothing we've never seen. All of our subjects are conditioned for combat, but River. . . She's a creature of extra ordinary grace."
The Inspector smiles when he hears the Dr.'s appraisal. "Yes. She always did love to dance."
The Inspector drops to one knee hard, and swift. He slams his baton on the floor. The top of the baton bounces off like a bouncing betty and a grenade flies up and over River and the Inspectors heads. The grenade bursts forth in a flat circle of radiant blue energy, bisecting the room, flowing through the staff's head, and knocking them all out cold.
The Inspector rushes to River, gently removes the probes from her head and swabs her. He whispers tenderly to her. "River. Wake up. Please, it's Simon. River. It's your brother. Wake up . . ."
River begins to stir. A noise moves Simon to the door, and he begins to remove his stolen military Officer's uniform to reveal an orderly's tunic beneath. Then, without his noticing, River is suddenly next to him. He jumps back in mild surprise.
"Simon," she says. She is lucid and looks relatively unharmed. Simon is nearly lost with emotion as he gazes at his once lost little sister.
"They know you've come," she continues.
Simon nods. He quickly drops back into his calculating disposition. Looking down the empty corridor Simon begins to lead his sister out of the monitoring room. Simon leads them through many corridors and finally reaches the first pair of double doors.
"We can't make it to the surface from inside," Simon says.
He turns suddenly, hearing footsteps approaching. People are heading towards them from the other side of the door.
"Find a -"
But river has, impossibly, scampered up and over some lab equipment to the dark top of the corridor. She holds herself in perfect splits against the ceiling an outstretched hand holding onto a sprinkler for support.
The doors burst open and two doctors pass by, hardly noticing the lone orderly. Passing right under River.
River falls to the ground, landing gracefully, all smiles on her pretty face. Before she takes her next step she goes rigid and motionless. She looks back down the corridor from which they came.
"River, We have to leave now!" Simon insists in quiet hast.
Without turning to look at her brother she replies, "He's still here, Simon. We can't leave without him."
"What?" he asks confused. "Who's here, River?"
She bolts back down the corridor in effortless stride. She zips through many rooms and corridors confusing her exhausted brother as he struggled to keep pace with the lithe girl. After minutes of all-out sprinting, they arrive in another cold and sparse room.
In the center of the room there is a large glass cylinder from ceiling to floor. In the large container-like vat there seems to a person inside. Inside the vat Simon realized there's a boy younger than him inside; slightly older than River.
"Who is this? If we don't hurry now -"
"His name is Harry. He's been here for quite some time, Simon. Like me. He knows things; great things. If we are to survive the near future we're going to need him." River's seriousness takes her brother by surprise. Her cryptic words made no sense at all. But he knows, without doubt, she is more than likely correct. River Tam, the prodigy, has never been wrong before.
River presses the release button and the glass shield rises into the ceiling smoothly. The slumbering boy inside is completely unaware. His long dark hair reaches down to his shoulders. There is an light bearded stubble on his young teenage face. He is dressed in a medical tunic designed to function around the probes. The probes unfasten from his body as River continues to operate the machine like a trained technician.
The boy is raised effortlessly by River and draped over her slim shoulders. She catches her brother's surprised eyes. He can't believe she's capable of lifting the boy who looks nearly twice her weight. He knew his little sister was a genius, something bordering super-human, but her display of strength is astonishing, especially considering her current state.
"Now it's time to leave, Simon."
And they were off. River carries Harry by having one of his arms slung over her shoulder and one of hers around his waist. She doesn't struggle for a second against his weight, an odd sight indeed. They twist and turn back to the monitoring room. Simon follows River who seems to have remembered the layout of the facility.
Once they make it to the monitoring room they notice many men in black military uniformed surrounds them, armed to the teeth. They are the back-up line of defense for situations like this. However, these are not Republic soldiers. They're most likely a PMC or contracted mercenaries.
River lets the unconscious ebony haired boy fall to the floor unceremoniously, raising her hands in surrender. Simon looks at the soldiers in utter defeat wishing he had not strayed from his original plan. River's gaze is steady, hard on the mercs.
With a flourish, River sweeps her brother's legs from under him and he hits the deck with an, "Oof!"
The mercs hesitate for a moment, but it is all River needs. She dives at the nearest merc, sweep the blaster rifle from his grip, and deliver a devastating knee to his uncovered face. This all happens in mere seconds and completely takes the unit by surprise.
She fires three consecutive shots at the stunned men, and three falls, dead. As the surprise fades all hell breaks loose. The mercs train their weapons on River who is ruthlessly picking them off one by one. There numbers thin out somewhat as she dives, rolls, flips, and sprints in-and-out of combat. The few unlucky ones who engaged the girl in hand-to-hand combat are all brought down like a sack of potatoes.
One of the veteran mercenaries watches on in morbid wonder. He remains locked in his position, not entering the frenzy, watching the girl from a safe distance. He motions the others to stand down and stay put.
Rive drops a thirteenth merc with a vicious roundhouse kick that snaps his neck. He dies before hitting the ground. A blaster shot nail her in the calf and she tumble to the ground in pain. The chaos is ended.
The senior officer who leads the merc unit motions to his men, "Tag and bag 'em. Be ready for evac."
The merc converge on the fallen River, their weapon trained, and ready for reprisals. As the merc who reached to cuff her, he is wrenched away savagely by some wicked, unseen force! Said merc's scream becomes silent as he impacts the wall with such intensity the steel wall actually buckles and dents deeply. A pool of blood seeps around the corpse.
The other men pace back in confusion, their blasters still trained on the girl. Could she have kicked dead merc so fast and hard that their eyes could not follow? No, impossible. What the hell could do that to a 220 pound man in full gear?
The all but forgotten Simon gasps as he realizes what took the merc down. Standing a few feet next to him was the unconscious boy, but no longer unconscious. He is conscious and fully alert. His emerald eyed gaze is locked with River's hazel eyes in silent communication.
The mercs back away from the ominous boy, expecting the worst. They were becoming acutely aware that they were not dealing with normal people. The identity and capabilities of these kids is anybody's guess.
"Get down now! On the ground! Down!" Every merc screams at the boy for cooperation but he does not listen. He's still eyeing the injured River with a vacant expression.
Without a word he begins to move towards River. She remains holding her legs in pain. On the boy's first step, the mercs do not hesitate, they all open fire on the boy, not willing to die at the hand of these devil children.
"FIRE!" the leader shouts needlessly.
Harry snaps to look at the formation of mercs as they all open fire. From his point of view time seems to slow down to a crawl.
A wall of bright red blaster fire streaks towards him from the mercs' blasters. They draw closer to him like slugs. Hundreds of short laser burst, fired at perpendicular angles, close in on him.
The shots come to a complete stop, glowing as their tracers backs still continue to burn. The world is processed in slow-motion in Harry's mind. Then the blaster shots, impossibly, bends. They arc back, doing a 180 degree turn-about, and suddenly accelerate back to their origins. Faster and faster they fly, and Harry's brain is back into perceiving real time.
The skirmish line of mercs is ripped apart by a hail of their own blaster fire.
A gunner, armed with a DC-15 assault rifle, blazes away at the boy only to be shredded by his own fire. A private takes a shot at the boy, and a bullet slaps him in the shoulder. Realizing what's happening, he drops his weapon.
The soldiers are dropping like flies. The fire quickly subsides.
The apathetic young man stands at the end of the now silent monitoring room, unharmed. The boy gazes indifferently at the few surviving guns-for-hire. Panic ensures, and the few dozen remaining drops their weapons, and run.
Simon rises shakily as he takes in the carnage around the room. There are nearly thirty and some odd number of bodies spread about, all dead in one fashion or another. He looks at the boy who is trudging towards his sister in a mixture of terror and awe.
What in gorram hell just happened, Simon did not know. He could not fathom what this all meant and what had just transpired before his very eyes. But he had a mission to complete. He had to get River out of the facility and off planet before reinforcements arrived.
"River," he called for her.
The young man, Harry, was kneeling next to River looking her square in the eyes. No words were said between the two and then the boy touches her leg. It looks oddly like a tender caress that lovers would share. Simon is about to speak out before he see a faint blue glow emanating from under the boys hand, onto his sister's injured leg. He pulls back his hand to reveal Rivers smooth leg. Not so much as a blemish remains, no sign that she ever hit by blaster fire.
Harry becomes shaky when his work is done. When he falters River catches him and once again drapes his arms over her shoulder. She nods to Simon.
With preamble continue their escape.
They find themselves in a large ventilation shaft, 15 by 15 feet. It goes a long way up and a long way down. One wide hinged window looks in on the hall inside. Simon and River approach with silent haste.
They trio slips through the window. Simon shuts it, and wedges his baton into the handle as another unit of armed mercs approaches. They fire at the glass but their lasers have no effect.
Wind whips River's long dark hair about as she looks up to see a small patch of daylight visible ten stories up. She sees the sky blotted out by a small ship that hovers above them. A gurney-sized section of the ship's belly detaches and drops down ten stories, cables spooling it out of the ship. It comes to Simon and river and stops suddenly.
"Get on!" Simon yells to River.
Simon helps River onto the gurney. He reaches for the unconscious young man but he is a little to heavy form him to properly get a hold of. When the mercs burst through the glass Simon ditches Harry, jumping on the lift himself just as the mercs gamble into the room. The two are whisked up in the gurney, River on her knees crying for Harry, and Simon standing helplessly behind her holding on of the cables.
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Simon and River are lifted up from the facility in the gurney.
"Stop," a voice says and the action freezes.
The voice continues. "Lovely. Lovely . . . Backtrack."
The actions reverses taking the scene back to the moment Simon and River on the gurney just before it rises.
"Stop."
There is a motionless pause, River frozen in that crouch, and a man steps through what could now be identified as a hologram of the event. He is a government spy. He has neither name nor title. He is simply known as Operative.
He's thoughtful, and a little removed. He is black and has a short trim afro. The suite he wears is too nondescript to be a uniform, too neat to be casual wear.
He is in the facilities record room. It is long and bare, except for the drawers of holographic records, a set-up for watching records, and a table with a computer and chair. The operative crosses the table and looks over some papers.
The slim computer on the small desk is a standard voice activated model and has unrestricted access to the facility's database.
"Biograph. Simon Tam," he says.
Simon's history files download to the computer monitor. Background information, graduation dates, and security photo from his medical internship - it all flows onto the screen.
"Remarkable children," he finishes.
Doctor Mathias storms in, trailed by two mercs for security, and a nervous young female intern following. Mathias looks greyer and gaunter then he ever has.
He approaches the Operative. "Excuse me! But no one is allowed in the records room without my express permission."
"Enter the doctor," the Operative says quietly to himself. Then to the doctor he says, "Forgive me. I prefer to see the events alone, without bias."
Mathias looks at the hologram and realizes which one it is. "I need to see your clearance."
The Operative nods. "You're right to insist. I know you've had security issues here."
He places a hand on a monitor screen as he says it. Mathias looks at the readout, and drops the bluster.
"Apologies. An Operative of the Republic will of course have full cooperation." He looks at the screen. "I'm not sure what . . . I see no listing of rank, or name."
"I have neither. Like this facility, I do not exist. The Republic calls me in when . . . they wish they don't have to," he replies. "Let's talk about the Tams."
"I assume you've scanned the status logs . . ."
A nod from the Operative, then he states, "River was your greatest success. A prodigy. A phenomenon. Until her brother walked in eight months ago and took her from you, and very nearly taking your ace subject as well."
"It's not quit so simple."
"I'm very aware of that," says the dark skinned man.
"He came in with full creds. He beat the ap-scan. The retinal . . . There was no way I could -"
Mathias ceases his jabber as he is smoothly cut off. "No, no. Of course. The boy spent his fortune developing the contacts to infiltrate this place."
"Gave up a brilliant future in medicine as well, you've probably read. He turned his back on his whole life. Madness."
The Operative smiles sadly. "Madness, no. Something a good deal more dangerous. Have you looked at this scan carefully? At his face?"
Mathis is confused by the Operative's questioning.
"It is love, in point and fact. Simon loved his sister and he knew she was in pain. So he planned to take her somewhere safe. However, he must have not realized she had somehow developed affections towards one of your other subjects. The pained expression she shows on the lift is a testament this fact," the spy says.
The holo-River looks on at the unconscious dark haired boy in anxious worry. Her face is a mask of sorrow as the mercs in the holo-scan secure the already unconscious boy.
"Does this happen regularly Dr. Mathias, one of your subjects caring so deeply for another?" the Operative asks.
Mathias shakes his head. "River Tam is an exceptional case, as you may already know; she is a phenomenal psychic and empath. We pushed her ability to the very limits and the results were far greater than we ever dreamed. We tried training her, and others, in armed and unarmed. But progress was slow," he says. "We eventually contracted a Mandalorian mercenary to oversee the training program. We saw instant results, hours after his arrival. You see, somehow a few readers gleaned his battle prowess. Every reader in the facility proved very capable in combat, seemingly overnight."
The Operative looks on in interest, taking it all in.
"But River however, learned a great deal more than the other readers. It took us quite some time to identify the source of her knowledge and abilities," the doctor continues. "We finally isolated the source to a young man who had been in cryo-sleep for decades; perhaps centuries."
"Centuries, doctor?" he asks doubtfully.
"I reviewed the logs of every subject who's ever come in or out of this facility. None states the arrival of Harry Potter. It's as if he was here since this facility was commissioned, 72 years ago. I can only fathom were he stayed before that."
"And your point is?" the Operative asks.
"The brain shuts down in cryo-sleep. When we conducted a sweep of the facility we found that Harry Potter's neural patterns were spiking. The boy was gradually awakening, impossibly, of his own will," he says, still in marvel at the fact.
Mathias continues. "When he was fully recovered we conducted a series of test. The boy has been very apathetic and entirely impassive, due to no credit of our own. He complied with all the tests without question, and we found in him what we've been searching for all along,"
Dr. Mathias becomes more animated. "Harry is our first subject ever with natural telekinetic ability. Combined with his telepathy, precognition, and gleaned Madalorian combat ability, and we have in our hands the greatest specimen ever discovered. The Senate has been pleased with our findings and has allowed us to continue research."
"Seems this program achieved what it was initiated for," the Operative states.
"That was until we realized our folly. Harry's ability to read minds was like no other. He began to whisper names . . . names that he should not have known. They were the names of Senate members who have funded this program. A few of my colleagues wanted to terminate the subject; others suggested isolation, fearing he knew too much to be allowed active duty on the battlefield. In the end however, it was still my call. We now keep him heavily sedated. Currently our goal is to recreate his abilities in other subjects, this time with safeguards."
The Operative pieces it all together. "But you have allowed one of your subjects to escape. The girl whom you insinuate was somehow linked to Harry."
"Whatever . . . secrets she might have accidentally gleaned from the boy it's probable that she doesn't even know she knows them. That they're buried beneath layers of psychosis."
"But they are in her," the Operative states mildly. "Her mind is unquiet. It is the will of the Senate that I kill her, her brother; and this boy because of your ignorance."
The Operative moves briskly to his stainless silver briefcase. "You know in certain older civilized cultures, when men failed as entirely as you have, they would throw themselves on their swords."
The doctor is fed up with the condescending tone of the Operative. "Well, unfortunately I forgot to bring a sword to -"
The air rings crisply as the Operative pulls a long elegant sword.
"The Republic has no further interest in psychics. They represent a disturbance to the harmony and peace of the Galactic Alliance."
Dr. Mathias eyes are locked on the sword as the Operative brandishes it. The two mercenaries behind him tense, feeling the growing tension and danger. "I would put that down right now if I were you."
"Would you be killed in your sleep, like an ailing pet? Whatever you failings, I believe you deserve better than that."
The mercs move. The Operative slices the throat of the one behind him with true grace, thrusting at the second as he is pulling out his gun and pinning his hand. A moment of struggle and the dying merc reflexively squeezes the trigger, shooting his own arm.
The Operative pulls out the sword and the merc falls as quietly as the first.
Mathias bolts but the Operative pins him to the wall. He bunches his finger and jabs the side of the doctor's spine, paralyzing him. Mathias stiffens, suddenly, agonizingly immobile.
The operative steps back, observing the Doctor's rigid grimace for a beat. Almost ceremoniously, he drops to one knee and holds the blade out to one side, hilt to the floor and point tilted toward the doctor. The Doctor stares at it in horror as his paralyzed body begins to tip over toward it.
The Operative turns towards the terrified intern at the door. "Young miss; I'll need all the logs on behavior modification triggers. We'll have to reach out to River Tam, and help her to come back to us. No matter how far Simon has taken her, we can -"
He's almost startled when the Doctor's body finally drops to the tip of the sword. However, the Doctor's body goes no further, impossibly suspended a mere inch from the fatal tip of the sword.
The Operative stares at the point where the Doctors sternum and the sword nearly meet, transfixed, waiting.
The intern then screams and the Operative looks up and sees a young man standing beside her, but looking at him. He is a tall and lithe teenage boy. His long messy black hair reaching his shoulders, dressed in a simple medical suit.
His unnatural green eyes gaze at the Operative eerily, as if looking through the dark man. The fit nineteen-year-old is, his face hard and without expression, eyes as cold as snake eyes, simply stares into the Operative dark brown eyes.
The nervous Dr. Mathias glides away from his death as if floating on air. He safely comes to rests some good ten feet away.
"You save him from certain death, why?" the Operative asks while standing once again.
Harry continues looking at the man indifferently. The question goes unanswered.
"Can I assume you are here for conflict then?" he continues.
Again, only a blank look. The Operative, even after having years of metal and emotional training, is unnerved by Harry silence and his vacant gaze. It's as if he is staring into a hologram, a shadow of a person. Preparing for the worst, he clenches the hilt of his sword tightly and opens his stance.
However before he could make any sort of move, his mind was invaded with a steady stream of images. It happens so sudden and unexpectedly, he is not sure if he is simply imaging it all. With a sudden clarity of though he understands what the boy wants.
"You seek the girl, River Tam," he says. "And you wish to join me in my search as well."
Silence . . . the Operative's statement requires no answer. However, he knows he is correct.
"If you join me, however, know that you will eventually report to my superiors within the Senate. If you try to escape I will kill you. You belay secrets to others, I will kill you. And . . ." he says softly as he approaches the boy. He is standing next to the boy, shoulder to shoulder, and whispers, "And if you enter my head again, I will kill you. Understood?"
The Operative learns not to expect an answer from the seemingly mute boy. He turns and looks at the frightened intern once again, Dr. Mathias completely forgotten.
"Young miss, I need you to get to work now. I think Harry and I may have a long way to travel," he says.
She acknowledges with a slight nod and goes.
The Operative approaches the holo-River, very close, staring. Harry remains in his line of sight. "Where are you hiding, little girl?"
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AUTHOR'S COMMENTARY
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As far as I know, there is no fanfiction out there that has ever crossed Star Wars, Firefly-Serenity, and Harry Potter. Combine this with the Old Republic setting, we have a pretty oriental fic (about as original as a crossover fanfic can get). Futuristic sci-fi allows me to branch out a little from the modern day fic Lord of War. Allot more creative freedom in this piece.
If this first chapter is well received then I'll continue the story. If not, then I just fall back to exclusively writing Lord of War.
P.S. This story will be un-beta until further notice.
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Fireflies of the Old Republic
Genre: Sci-Fi Action Romance
Spoiler: Books 1 - 5
Pairing: Harry/River
Rating: M for Mature (17+)
Chapter 1 - Duo
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A holo-video starts its show, and in it there is a stunning image of Earth.
Earth shines magnificently as it once did centuries ago. The cradle of human civilization. It was once a beautiful lush blue world thought to have been created by God himself.
Suddenly, white pops blossom on the surface, and moments later, ships -huge, intricate space-freighters- come roaring from the surface, cruising with a thunder of gas and flame.
A woman's voice tells the sad story of the fall of Earth. Her voice is eloquent and serene. "Earth-That-Was could no longer sustain our numbers, we were so many."
The holo-vid continues, displaying another solar system; and sun like our own, surrounded by many more planets than ours; they in turn are surrounded by many moons.
The woman continues. "We found a new galaxy; dozens of planets and hundreds of moons."
The image shifts to a terraform station; a bunker-like complex many miles across, air billowing from it, electricity running over it.
"Each one was terraformed; a process taking decades, to support human life. To be new Earths." The woman says.
There is an image of a magnificent planet, its beauty far surpassing that of our beloved Earth. It's a futuristic megalopolis, gleaming and cool.
She continues. "The Central Planets were the first settled and are the most advanced, embodying civilization at its peak."
The holo-video shows an empty desert plain, and then pans out to show the entire desert planet. As it goes even further, it shows the edge of the entire galaxy.
"Life on the other planets is much more difficult. That is why the Central Planets formed the Galactic Republic, so everyone can enjoy the comfort and enlightenment of true civilization. That is also why the Republic has been tested in many wars. The Republic is a joint democratic system of many prominent species across the Galaxy."
During the last image a woman steps in from of the holo-vid. Before her is a group of twelve-year-olds, serious and well dressed. They sit with their heels under a sparsely elegant tent, small wooden desks with imbedded screens in front of them. The tent is on a lawn surrounded by lush foliage. People walk about and vehicles glide quietly overhead. A utopian vista.
"But there hasn't been a war for centuries. So there should be no need for soldiers, yes?" a girl asked.
The woman who explained mankind's history in a nutshell is the class teacher. She is a beautiful, dark skinned instructor in her mid-twenties. "Yes, these days there is no great need for lots of soldiers. Men and women who serve the Republic are generally stationed on Outer Rim worlds, as Peace Enforcers."
A boy raises his had. "I don't understand. In the most recent war, why were people like the Madalorians even attacking us? Were they not a civilized race?"
"That's a good question. Does anybody want to open to that?" the teacher asks her class.
"I hear they're brutes and cannibals," a girl says.
"That's only Reavers," says another boy.
"Reavers aren't real!" a girl says to the boy half frightened half annoyed, as if speaking of the Boogieman himself.
A boy replies seriously, intense. "Full well they are. The attack settlers from space, they kill them and wear their skin, and rape them for hours and hours . . ."
"We will enjoy your silence now!" snaps the teacher in a Chinese dialect. Then she continues calmly in English. "It's true that there are . . . dangers, on the outer planets. So let's follow up on Borodin's question. With all the social and medical advancements we can bring to the Outer Rim worlds, why would they fight so hard against us?"
"We meddle," says a girl quietly. The girl's round hazel eyes holds much wisdom and clarity of thought.
"River," the teacher calls her, "I'm sorry?"
River is a dark, intense little girl, writing with one hand and typing with the other. Her typing consists of holding a long wooden stylus and tapping either end down different columns of Chinese characters on her desktop screen. She is a good two years younger than the other kids. "People don't like to be meddled with, we tell them what to do, what to think, don't run, don't walk. We're in their homes and in their heads and we haven't the right. We're meddlesome."
The teacher gently takes her stylus and approaches River. "River, we're not telling people what to think. We're just showing them how."
Then suddenly, without pause, she violently shoves the stylus into Rivers forehead.
The reality-like dream forces a girl awake violently. An older, 16-year-ol River, sits in a metal chair, needles fixed in her skull. One is precisely were the teacher struck her in the dream, and is being adjusted by a technician. A screen monitors her brain pattern.
The lab she's in is cold, blue, and nearly everything is made of steel. Stainless machines and gadgets are meticulously placed around the monitoring room. Most beep and churn as they function.
"She's dreaming," says a technician with amusement.
"Nightmares?" another asks.
"Her neural kinetics is off the charts. I'd say scary monsters, perhaps?"
Dr. Mathias watches River Tam indifferently. He is the head of the operations being conducted on the young woman, and in charge of the entire facility, and her staff. He is not a likable man; he's cold, and more than a little satisfied with himself. "Let's amp it up. Delcium, eight drops."
Behind him stands a Government Inspector, observing. His quiet scrutiny makes Dr. Mathias more than a little nervous.
The Inspector is in the shadows, but his uniform indicates substantial rank, as does the eagle-crested baton. It's no longer than a ruler, and he's clutching it in one gloved hand.
Dr. Mathias continues his demonstration. "See, most of our best work is done when they're asleep. We can monitor and direct their subconscious, implant suggestions . . ."
River starts convulsing, mewing in misery. The inspector starts forwards, slowly.
"It's a little startling to see, but the results are spectacular. Especially in this case; River Tam is one of our star pupils." The doctor says this with pride.
The Inspector steps into the light. He is rigid, cold, and staring at the girl with no emotion at all. His name and identity is unknown to the babbling doctor..
"I've heard of that," says the Inspector.
"She's a genius. Her mental capacity is extraordinary, even with the side effects." Dr. Mathias goes on.
That triggers something in the darkly clad Inspector. "Tell me about them."
"Well, obviously, she's unstable . . ." he begins. "The neural stripping gives them heightened cognitive reception, but it also destabilizes their own reality matrix. It manifest as borderline schizophrenia . . . which at this point is the price of being truly psychic."
The Inspector moves forward, his eyes never leaving the young River Tam. He asks, "What use do we have for a psychic if she's insane?"
"I don't have to tell you the security potential of someone who can read minds. And she has lucid periods. We hope to improve upon the . . ." Dr. Mathias goes silent, thinking. "I'm sorry, Sir, I have to ask; is there some reason for this inspection?"
The Inspector turns towards him and smiles. "Am I making you nervous?"
"Key members of Parliament have personally observed this subject. I was told their support for the project was unanimous. The demonstration of her power . . ."
The Inspector swivels back to looking at River Tam; unimpressed with the nervous Dr. Mathias. "How is she physically?"
"Like nothing we've never seen. All of our subjects are conditioned for combat, but River. . . She's a creature of extra ordinary grace."
The Inspector smiles when he hears the Dr.'s appraisal. "Yes. She always did love to dance."
The Inspector drops to one knee hard, and swift. He slams his baton on the floor. The top of the baton bounces off like a bouncing betty and a grenade flies up and over River and the Inspectors heads. The grenade bursts forth in a flat circle of radiant blue energy, bisecting the room, flowing through the staff's head, and knocking them all out cold.
The Inspector rushes to River, gently removes the probes from her head and swabs her. He whispers tenderly to her. "River. Wake up. Please, it's Simon. River. It's your brother. Wake up . . ."
River begins to stir. A noise moves Simon to the door, and he begins to remove his stolen military Officer's uniform to reveal an orderly's tunic beneath. Then, without his noticing, River is suddenly next to him. He jumps back in mild surprise.
"Simon," she says. She is lucid and looks relatively unharmed. Simon is nearly lost with emotion as he gazes at his once lost little sister.
"They know you've come," she continues.
Simon nods. He quickly drops back into his calculating disposition. Looking down the empty corridor Simon begins to lead his sister out of the monitoring room. Simon leads them through many corridors and finally reaches the first pair of double doors.
"We can't make it to the surface from inside," Simon says.
He turns suddenly, hearing footsteps approaching. People are heading towards them from the other side of the door.
"Find a -"
But river has, impossibly, scampered up and over some lab equipment to the dark top of the corridor. She holds herself in perfect splits against the ceiling an outstretched hand holding onto a sprinkler for support.
The doors burst open and two doctors pass by, hardly noticing the lone orderly. Passing right under River.
River falls to the ground, landing gracefully, all smiles on her pretty face. Before she takes her next step she goes rigid and motionless. She looks back down the corridor from which they came.
"River, We have to leave now!" Simon insists in quiet hast.
Without turning to look at her brother she replies, "He's still here, Simon. We can't leave without him."
"What?" he asks confused. "Who's here, River?"
She bolts back down the corridor in effortless stride. She zips through many rooms and corridors confusing her exhausted brother as he struggled to keep pace with the lithe girl. After minutes of all-out sprinting, they arrive in another cold and sparse room.
In the center of the room there is a large glass cylinder from ceiling to floor. In the large container-like vat there seems to a person inside. Inside the vat Simon realized there's a boy younger than him inside; slightly older than River.
"Who is this? If we don't hurry now -"
"His name is Harry. He's been here for quite some time, Simon. Like me. He knows things; great things. If we are to survive the near future we're going to need him." River's seriousness takes her brother by surprise. Her cryptic words made no sense at all. But he knows, without doubt, she is more than likely correct. River Tam, the prodigy, has never been wrong before.
River presses the release button and the glass shield rises into the ceiling smoothly. The slumbering boy inside is completely unaware. His long dark hair reaches down to his shoulders. There is an light bearded stubble on his young teenage face. He is dressed in a medical tunic designed to function around the probes. The probes unfasten from his body as River continues to operate the machine like a trained technician.
The boy is raised effortlessly by River and draped over her slim shoulders. She catches her brother's surprised eyes. He can't believe she's capable of lifting the boy who looks nearly twice her weight. He knew his little sister was a genius, something bordering super-human, but her display of strength is astonishing, especially considering her current state.
"Now it's time to leave, Simon."
And they were off. River carries Harry by having one of his arms slung over her shoulder and one of hers around his waist. She doesn't struggle for a second against his weight, an odd sight indeed. They twist and turn back to the monitoring room. Simon follows River who seems to have remembered the layout of the facility.
Once they make it to the monitoring room they notice many men in black military uniformed surrounds them, armed to the teeth. They are the back-up line of defense for situations like this. However, these are not Republic soldiers. They're most likely a PMC or contracted mercenaries.
River lets the unconscious ebony haired boy fall to the floor unceremoniously, raising her hands in surrender. Simon looks at the soldiers in utter defeat wishing he had not strayed from his original plan. River's gaze is steady, hard on the mercs.
With a flourish, River sweeps her brother's legs from under him and he hits the deck with an, "Oof!"
The mercs hesitate for a moment, but it is all River needs. She dives at the nearest merc, sweep the blaster rifle from his grip, and deliver a devastating knee to his uncovered face. This all happens in mere seconds and completely takes the unit by surprise.
She fires three consecutive shots at the stunned men, and three falls, dead. As the surprise fades all hell breaks loose. The mercs train their weapons on River who is ruthlessly picking them off one by one. There numbers thin out somewhat as she dives, rolls, flips, and sprints in-and-out of combat. The few unlucky ones who engaged the girl in hand-to-hand combat are all brought down like a sack of potatoes.
One of the veteran mercenaries watches on in morbid wonder. He remains locked in his position, not entering the frenzy, watching the girl from a safe distance. He motions the others to stand down and stay put.
Rive drops a thirteenth merc with a vicious roundhouse kick that snaps his neck. He dies before hitting the ground. A blaster shot nail her in the calf and she tumble to the ground in pain. The chaos is ended.
The senior officer who leads the merc unit motions to his men, "Tag and bag 'em. Be ready for evac."
The merc converge on the fallen River, their weapon trained, and ready for reprisals. As the merc who reached to cuff her, he is wrenched away savagely by some wicked, unseen force! Said merc's scream becomes silent as he impacts the wall with such intensity the steel wall actually buckles and dents deeply. A pool of blood seeps around the corpse.
The other men pace back in confusion, their blasters still trained on the girl. Could she have kicked dead merc so fast and hard that their eyes could not follow? No, impossible. What the hell could do that to a 220 pound man in full gear?
The all but forgotten Simon gasps as he realizes what took the merc down. Standing a few feet next to him was the unconscious boy, but no longer unconscious. He is conscious and fully alert. His emerald eyed gaze is locked with River's hazel eyes in silent communication.
The mercs back away from the ominous boy, expecting the worst. They were becoming acutely aware that they were not dealing with normal people. The identity and capabilities of these kids is anybody's guess.
"Get down now! On the ground! Down!" Every merc screams at the boy for cooperation but he does not listen. He's still eyeing the injured River with a vacant expression.
Without a word he begins to move towards River. She remains holding her legs in pain. On the boy's first step, the mercs do not hesitate, they all open fire on the boy, not willing to die at the hand of these devil children.
"FIRE!" the leader shouts needlessly.
Harry snaps to look at the formation of mercs as they all open fire. From his point of view time seems to slow down to a crawl.
A wall of bright red blaster fire streaks towards him from the mercs' blasters. They draw closer to him like slugs. Hundreds of short laser burst, fired at perpendicular angles, close in on him.
The shots come to a complete stop, glowing as their tracers backs still continue to burn. The world is processed in slow-motion in Harry's mind. Then the blaster shots, impossibly, bends. They arc back, doing a 180 degree turn-about, and suddenly accelerate back to their origins. Faster and faster they fly, and Harry's brain is back into perceiving real time.
The skirmish line of mercs is ripped apart by a hail of their own blaster fire.
A gunner, armed with a DC-15 assault rifle, blazes away at the boy only to be shredded by his own fire. A private takes a shot at the boy, and a bullet slaps him in the shoulder. Realizing what's happening, he drops his weapon.
The soldiers are dropping like flies. The fire quickly subsides.
The apathetic young man stands at the end of the now silent monitoring room, unharmed. The boy gazes indifferently at the few surviving guns-for-hire. Panic ensures, and the few dozen remaining drops their weapons, and run.
Simon rises shakily as he takes in the carnage around the room. There are nearly thirty and some odd number of bodies spread about, all dead in one fashion or another. He looks at the boy who is trudging towards his sister in a mixture of terror and awe.
What in gorram hell just happened, Simon did not know. He could not fathom what this all meant and what had just transpired before his very eyes. But he had a mission to complete. He had to get River out of the facility and off planet before reinforcements arrived.
"River," he called for her.
The young man, Harry, was kneeling next to River looking her square in the eyes. No words were said between the two and then the boy touches her leg. It looks oddly like a tender caress that lovers would share. Simon is about to speak out before he see a faint blue glow emanating from under the boys hand, onto his sister's injured leg. He pulls back his hand to reveal Rivers smooth leg. Not so much as a blemish remains, no sign that she ever hit by blaster fire.
Harry becomes shaky when his work is done. When he falters River catches him and once again drapes his arms over her shoulder. She nods to Simon.
With preamble continue their escape.
They find themselves in a large ventilation shaft, 15 by 15 feet. It goes a long way up and a long way down. One wide hinged window looks in on the hall inside. Simon and River approach with silent haste.
They trio slips through the window. Simon shuts it, and wedges his baton into the handle as another unit of armed mercs approaches. They fire at the glass but their lasers have no effect.
Wind whips River's long dark hair about as she looks up to see a small patch of daylight visible ten stories up. She sees the sky blotted out by a small ship that hovers above them. A gurney-sized section of the ship's belly detaches and drops down ten stories, cables spooling it out of the ship. It comes to Simon and river and stops suddenly.
"Get on!" Simon yells to River.
Simon helps River onto the gurney. He reaches for the unconscious young man but he is a little to heavy form him to properly get a hold of. When the mercs burst through the glass Simon ditches Harry, jumping on the lift himself just as the mercs gamble into the room. The two are whisked up in the gurney, River on her knees crying for Harry, and Simon standing helplessly behind her holding on of the cables.
FotOR - - - FotOR - - - FotOR - - - FotOR - - - FotOR - - - FotOR
Simon and River are lifted up from the facility in the gurney.
"Stop," a voice says and the action freezes.
The voice continues. "Lovely. Lovely . . . Backtrack."
The actions reverses taking the scene back to the moment Simon and River on the gurney just before it rises.
"Stop."
There is a motionless pause, River frozen in that crouch, and a man steps through what could now be identified as a hologram of the event. He is a government spy. He has neither name nor title. He is simply known as Operative.
He's thoughtful, and a little removed. He is black and has a short trim afro. The suite he wears is too nondescript to be a uniform, too neat to be casual wear.
He is in the facilities record room. It is long and bare, except for the drawers of holographic records, a set-up for watching records, and a table with a computer and chair. The operative crosses the table and looks over some papers.
The slim computer on the small desk is a standard voice activated model and has unrestricted access to the facility's database.
"Biograph. Simon Tam," he says.
Simon's history files download to the computer monitor. Background information, graduation dates, and security photo from his medical internship - it all flows onto the screen.
"Remarkable children," he finishes.
Doctor Mathias storms in, trailed by two mercs for security, and a nervous young female intern following. Mathias looks greyer and gaunter then he ever has.
He approaches the Operative. "Excuse me! But no one is allowed in the records room without my express permission."
"Enter the doctor," the Operative says quietly to himself. Then to the doctor he says, "Forgive me. I prefer to see the events alone, without bias."
Mathias looks at the hologram and realizes which one it is. "I need to see your clearance."
The Operative nods. "You're right to insist. I know you've had security issues here."
He places a hand on a monitor screen as he says it. Mathias looks at the readout, and drops the bluster.
"Apologies. An Operative of the Republic will of course have full cooperation." He looks at the screen. "I'm not sure what . . . I see no listing of rank, or name."
"I have neither. Like this facility, I do not exist. The Republic calls me in when . . . they wish they don't have to," he replies. "Let's talk about the Tams."
"I assume you've scanned the status logs . . ."
A nod from the Operative, then he states, "River was your greatest success. A prodigy. A phenomenon. Until her brother walked in eight months ago and took her from you, and very nearly taking your ace subject as well."
"It's not quit so simple."
"I'm very aware of that," says the dark skinned man.
"He came in with full creds. He beat the ap-scan. The retinal . . . There was no way I could -"
Mathias ceases his jabber as he is smoothly cut off. "No, no. Of course. The boy spent his fortune developing the contacts to infiltrate this place."
"Gave up a brilliant future in medicine as well, you've probably read. He turned his back on his whole life. Madness."
The Operative smiles sadly. "Madness, no. Something a good deal more dangerous. Have you looked at this scan carefully? At his face?"
Mathis is confused by the Operative's questioning.
"It is love, in point and fact. Simon loved his sister and he knew she was in pain. So he planned to take her somewhere safe. However, he must have not realized she had somehow developed affections towards one of your other subjects. The pained expression she shows on the lift is a testament this fact," the spy says.
The holo-River looks on at the unconscious dark haired boy in anxious worry. Her face is a mask of sorrow as the mercs in the holo-scan secure the already unconscious boy.
"Does this happen regularly Dr. Mathias, one of your subjects caring so deeply for another?" the Operative asks.
Mathias shakes his head. "River Tam is an exceptional case, as you may already know; she is a phenomenal psychic and empath. We pushed her ability to the very limits and the results were far greater than we ever dreamed. We tried training her, and others, in armed and unarmed. But progress was slow," he says. "We eventually contracted a Mandalorian mercenary to oversee the training program. We saw instant results, hours after his arrival. You see, somehow a few readers gleaned his battle prowess. Every reader in the facility proved very capable in combat, seemingly overnight."
The Operative looks on in interest, taking it all in.
"But River however, learned a great deal more than the other readers. It took us quite some time to identify the source of her knowledge and abilities," the doctor continues. "We finally isolated the source to a young man who had been in cryo-sleep for decades; perhaps centuries."
"Centuries, doctor?" he asks doubtfully.
"I reviewed the logs of every subject who's ever come in or out of this facility. None states the arrival of Harry Potter. It's as if he was here since this facility was commissioned, 72 years ago. I can only fathom were he stayed before that."
"And your point is?" the Operative asks.
"The brain shuts down in cryo-sleep. When we conducted a sweep of the facility we found that Harry Potter's neural patterns were spiking. The boy was gradually awakening, impossibly, of his own will," he says, still in marvel at the fact.
Mathias continues. "When he was fully recovered we conducted a series of test. The boy has been very apathetic and entirely impassive, due to no credit of our own. He complied with all the tests without question, and we found in him what we've been searching for all along,"
Dr. Mathias becomes more animated. "Harry is our first subject ever with natural telekinetic ability. Combined with his telepathy, precognition, and gleaned Madalorian combat ability, and we have in our hands the greatest specimen ever discovered. The Senate has been pleased with our findings and has allowed us to continue research."
"Seems this program achieved what it was initiated for," the Operative states.
"That was until we realized our folly. Harry's ability to read minds was like no other. He began to whisper names . . . names that he should not have known. They were the names of Senate members who have funded this program. A few of my colleagues wanted to terminate the subject; others suggested isolation, fearing he knew too much to be allowed active duty on the battlefield. In the end however, it was still my call. We now keep him heavily sedated. Currently our goal is to recreate his abilities in other subjects, this time with safeguards."
The Operative pieces it all together. "But you have allowed one of your subjects to escape. The girl whom you insinuate was somehow linked to Harry."
"Whatever . . . secrets she might have accidentally gleaned from the boy it's probable that she doesn't even know she knows them. That they're buried beneath layers of psychosis."
"But they are in her," the Operative states mildly. "Her mind is unquiet. It is the will of the Senate that I kill her, her brother; and this boy because of your ignorance."
The Operative moves briskly to his stainless silver briefcase. "You know in certain older civilized cultures, when men failed as entirely as you have, they would throw themselves on their swords."
The doctor is fed up with the condescending tone of the Operative. "Well, unfortunately I forgot to bring a sword to -"
The air rings crisply as the Operative pulls a long elegant sword.
"The Republic has no further interest in psychics. They represent a disturbance to the harmony and peace of the Galactic Alliance."
Dr. Mathias eyes are locked on the sword as the Operative brandishes it. The two mercenaries behind him tense, feeling the growing tension and danger. "I would put that down right now if I were you."
"Would you be killed in your sleep, like an ailing pet? Whatever you failings, I believe you deserve better than that."
The mercs move. The Operative slices the throat of the one behind him with true grace, thrusting at the second as he is pulling out his gun and pinning his hand. A moment of struggle and the dying merc reflexively squeezes the trigger, shooting his own arm.
The Operative pulls out the sword and the merc falls as quietly as the first.
Mathias bolts but the Operative pins him to the wall. He bunches his finger and jabs the side of the doctor's spine, paralyzing him. Mathias stiffens, suddenly, agonizingly immobile.
The operative steps back, observing the Doctor's rigid grimace for a beat. Almost ceremoniously, he drops to one knee and holds the blade out to one side, hilt to the floor and point tilted toward the doctor. The Doctor stares at it in horror as his paralyzed body begins to tip over toward it.
The Operative turns towards the terrified intern at the door. "Young miss; I'll need all the logs on behavior modification triggers. We'll have to reach out to River Tam, and help her to come back to us. No matter how far Simon has taken her, we can -"
He's almost startled when the Doctor's body finally drops to the tip of the sword. However, the Doctor's body goes no further, impossibly suspended a mere inch from the fatal tip of the sword.
The Operative stares at the point where the Doctors sternum and the sword nearly meet, transfixed, waiting.
The intern then screams and the Operative looks up and sees a young man standing beside her, but looking at him. He is a tall and lithe teenage boy. His long messy black hair reaching his shoulders, dressed in a simple medical suit.
His unnatural green eyes gaze at the Operative eerily, as if looking through the dark man. The fit nineteen-year-old is, his face hard and without expression, eyes as cold as snake eyes, simply stares into the Operative dark brown eyes.
The nervous Dr. Mathias glides away from his death as if floating on air. He safely comes to rests some good ten feet away.
"You save him from certain death, why?" the Operative asks while standing once again.
Harry continues looking at the man indifferently. The question goes unanswered.
"Can I assume you are here for conflict then?" he continues.
Again, only a blank look. The Operative, even after having years of metal and emotional training, is unnerved by Harry silence and his vacant gaze. It's as if he is staring into a hologram, a shadow of a person. Preparing for the worst, he clenches the hilt of his sword tightly and opens his stance.
However before he could make any sort of move, his mind was invaded with a steady stream of images. It happens so sudden and unexpectedly, he is not sure if he is simply imaging it all. With a sudden clarity of though he understands what the boy wants.
"You seek the girl, River Tam," he says. "And you wish to join me in my search as well."
Silence . . . the Operative's statement requires no answer. However, he knows he is correct.
"If you join me, however, know that you will eventually report to my superiors within the Senate. If you try to escape I will kill you. You belay secrets to others, I will kill you. And . . ." he says softly as he approaches the boy. He is standing next to the boy, shoulder to shoulder, and whispers, "And if you enter my head again, I will kill you. Understood?"
The Operative learns not to expect an answer from the seemingly mute boy. He turns and looks at the frightened intern once again, Dr. Mathias completely forgotten.
"Young miss, I need you to get to work now. I think Harry and I may have a long way to travel," he says.
She acknowledges with a slight nod and goes.
The Operative approaches the holo-River, very close, staring. Harry remains in his line of sight. "Where are you hiding, little girl?"
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AUTHOR'S COMMENTARY
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As far as I know, there is no fanfiction out there that has ever crossed Star Wars, Firefly-Serenity, and Harry Potter. Combine this with the Old Republic setting, we have a pretty oriental fic (about as original as a crossover fanfic can get). Futuristic sci-fi allows me to branch out a little from the modern day fic Lord of War. Allot more creative freedom in this piece.
If this first chapter is well received then I'll continue the story. If not, then I just fall back to exclusively writing Lord of War.
P.S. This story will be un-beta until further notice.
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