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xfirefly9xTitle: Still Flying
Fandom: Firefly/Stargate SG-1
Characters: Firefly crew, original SG-1 team
Word Count: 25,015 total
Rating: G
Summary: SG-1 is stranded in the Firefly universe. They join forces with the crew of Serenity in the hopes to find a way back home.
Notes: Written for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
scifibigbang.
Previous Parts: Part 1
Mal is in his bunk, sitting on the edge of his bed and staring blankly ahead, when the comm system is attacked by a flicker of static. He doesn’t react at first. A long day behind him, his mind isn’t at it’s most fresh state and the crackle of the comm isn’t nearly as important as the speck of dust on the wall in front of him.
“Mal! Mal, you awake?”
He says nothing.
Wash tries again. “Mal? We’ve reached Cirec. I’m setting us down now.”
This time, Mal sighs and lets his body return to the present and function once more. He reaches for the comm. “Thanks, Wash. Any troubles?”
“Nada. We’re all clear.”
“Good. Do your thing and then get some rest. Got another big day ahead of us.”
“Aye, aye, Captain.”
“And Wash?” he says.
“Yeah?”
“Don’t ever say that again.”
There’s a pause and then Wash says, “All right. Sorry, sir. I will find an alternative phrasing to use. How’s... hmm. How’s ‘all righty, then, sir?’ Or... You know what? I’ll get back to you on more ideas. Because I’m sure I can come up with something much more suited to our ways and... I’ll stop talking now.”
“Right then,” Mal mutters.
“Good night, Mal.”
He runs his tongue across his lips. “Night, Wash.” He sheds his shirt, turns in and is sound asleep within twenty minutes. When he next opens his eyes, he pulls on a clean shirt and changes his trousers, looping the suspenders over his shoulders. Lastly, he checks his belt and holster and slides his gun down into it, securing it safely but at the ready should he need it.
His footsteps are loud in the otherwise quiet of the ship and even the hum of the engines doesn’t help to dim the noise. As he nears the bridge he can hear muffled voices. Wash and Zoe, he guesses and when he is close enough, he sees that he is right. “Mornin’,” he announces his presence.
They both turn and look at him. “Morning, Mal,” Wash says.
“Sir,” Zoe adds.
“How’s it going?”
“We’re good,” Zoe answers for them. “We were just discussing the logistics of this job.”
“Logistics. Huh.”
“Yep, logistics,” Wash replied unhelpfully.
“Getting the goods to our clients. That sort of thing, sir.”
“Ah. Right. Of course.” He nods and then gestures out front. “Anyway, Zoe. We’d best be off to meet Heimedall and the gang in a few.”
“I’m ready when you are, sir.”
“Shiny. Let’s lose us some cargo.”
Together they head for the cargo bay where Jayne is already piling crates they’d hidden in case of surprise visitors onto the back of the mule. He grunts at them when they join him in fixing up the crates and continues to work. Ten minutes of hard work later, Mal and Zoe climb aboard the mule and Zoe directs it down the ramp to the sandy ground.
Heimedall is waiting with two lackeys and his own mule in the arranged location. A cowboy hat slanted at an angle over his face hides his eyes and dirty brown hair falls to his shoulders. His boots are black with scratches and dust marking them. He’s wearing a gray coat over a similar coloured shirt and dark trousers. “Captain Reynolds, I presume? How are you two fellas? Happy as a kitten?”
“We’re fine,” Mal says, standing and climbing off the mule. Zoe stands too but stays near the goods, a hand ready at the gun on her hip. “And you?”
“Yeah, we are too. Aren’t we, Matty?” One of his lackeys, a stout man with beady eyes, nods.
“We gonna spend this fine morning on small talk or we gonna get to business at some point?” Mal smiles at them, a humourless smile.
“Course we’ll get to the job. Don’t see why a few words beforehand should be a problem though.” Heimedall narrows his eyes slightly.
Zoe takes his hostility as a sign to step in. “We don’t mean to offend. There’s somewhere we have to get to after this is all.”
“Right then,” Heimedall replies. “That’s all you hadta say. We can deal.”
“Great,” Mal says. He brushes down the front of his pants with the palms of his hands.
“Yeah.”
“Let’s deal then. As you can see, we’ve got your goods all here. Now, before we play nice and hand it over we’d like to see the cashy money we’re due.”
“That’s reasonable enough a request.” Heimedall nods at his second lackey. “Tones. Show ‘em.” The man, bald and with stunning blue eyes, obeys and with huge hands retrieves a bag from inside his coat. He opens it to reveal the coins and then closes it and tosses the bag to Mal who catches it with ease.
“Shiny. I take it your men can deal with the crates?”
Heimedall nods. “Tones. Matty. You heard the guy.” He watches his men as they begin to haul crate after crate off the back of the mule. The mule empty again, Zoe climbs back on and waits as Mal exchanges last words with Heimedall. Mal joins her a few minutes later and they head back to Serenity while their clients fix the crates to their own mule.
“Good job,” Mal says. “Easy money.”
“Indeed,” Zoe agrees. “And River’s prediction has been proved wrong.”
“Mmm yeah. It’s been a nice, smooth ride.”
“It has.”
They’re silent for nearly a whole minute. Even the mule is oddly noiseless in its journey across the desert-like ground.
“Do you really think she was wrong?” Mal asks then.
“I do.”
“Hmm.”
“You don’t, sir?”
He scratches at his nose and shrugs sheepishly. “I think we’d be best not to ignore her words. Might be something we missed or something not happened yet she’s visioned about. Until we’re off this rock and outta here I don’t want us taking any chances in the case she gets proved right here.”
“Makes sense, sir.”
“Yeah. I hope so.”
They make it back to Serenity without further discussion and without incident. Unscathed, Zoe parks the mule and Mal presses the button to let the ramp back up. Mal orders Wash via the comm system to get them moving and they hit atmo with no problems.
And then the ships appear and a blast of light hurtles towards them at rapid speed.
Fandom: Firefly/Stargate SG-1
Characters: Firefly crew, original SG-1 team
Word Count: 25,015 total
Rating: G
Summary: SG-1 is stranded in the Firefly universe. They join forces with the crew of Serenity in the hopes to find a way back home.
Notes: Written for
scifibigbang. Previous Parts: Part 1
Mal is in his bunk, sitting on the edge of his bed and staring blankly ahead, when the comm system is attacked by a flicker of static. He doesn’t react at first. A long day behind him, his mind isn’t at it’s most fresh state and the crackle of the comm isn’t nearly as important as the speck of dust on the wall in front of him.
“Mal! Mal, you awake?”
He says nothing.
Wash tries again. “Mal? We’ve reached Cirec. I’m setting us down now.”
This time, Mal sighs and lets his body return to the present and function once more. He reaches for the comm. “Thanks, Wash. Any troubles?”
“Nada. We’re all clear.”
“Good. Do your thing and then get some rest. Got another big day ahead of us.”
“Aye, aye, Captain.”
“And Wash?” he says.
“Yeah?”
“Don’t ever say that again.”
There’s a pause and then Wash says, “All right. Sorry, sir. I will find an alternative phrasing to use. How’s... hmm. How’s ‘all righty, then, sir?’ Or... You know what? I’ll get back to you on more ideas. Because I’m sure I can come up with something much more suited to our ways and... I’ll stop talking now.”
“Right then,” Mal mutters.
“Good night, Mal.”
He runs his tongue across his lips. “Night, Wash.” He sheds his shirt, turns in and is sound asleep within twenty minutes. When he next opens his eyes, he pulls on a clean shirt and changes his trousers, looping the suspenders over his shoulders. Lastly, he checks his belt and holster and slides his gun down into it, securing it safely but at the ready should he need it.
His footsteps are loud in the otherwise quiet of the ship and even the hum of the engines doesn’t help to dim the noise. As he nears the bridge he can hear muffled voices. Wash and Zoe, he guesses and when he is close enough, he sees that he is right. “Mornin’,” he announces his presence.
They both turn and look at him. “Morning, Mal,” Wash says.
“Sir,” Zoe adds.
“How’s it going?”
“We’re good,” Zoe answers for them. “We were just discussing the logistics of this job.”
“Logistics. Huh.”
“Yep, logistics,” Wash replied unhelpfully.
“Getting the goods to our clients. That sort of thing, sir.”
“Ah. Right. Of course.” He nods and then gestures out front. “Anyway, Zoe. We’d best be off to meet Heimedall and the gang in a few.”
“I’m ready when you are, sir.”
“Shiny. Let’s lose us some cargo.”
Together they head for the cargo bay where Jayne is already piling crates they’d hidden in case of surprise visitors onto the back of the mule. He grunts at them when they join him in fixing up the crates and continues to work. Ten minutes of hard work later, Mal and Zoe climb aboard the mule and Zoe directs it down the ramp to the sandy ground.
Heimedall is waiting with two lackeys and his own mule in the arranged location. A cowboy hat slanted at an angle over his face hides his eyes and dirty brown hair falls to his shoulders. His boots are black with scratches and dust marking them. He’s wearing a gray coat over a similar coloured shirt and dark trousers. “Captain Reynolds, I presume? How are you two fellas? Happy as a kitten?”
“We’re fine,” Mal says, standing and climbing off the mule. Zoe stands too but stays near the goods, a hand ready at the gun on her hip. “And you?”
“Yeah, we are too. Aren’t we, Matty?” One of his lackeys, a stout man with beady eyes, nods.
“We gonna spend this fine morning on small talk or we gonna get to business at some point?” Mal smiles at them, a humourless smile.
“Course we’ll get to the job. Don’t see why a few words beforehand should be a problem though.” Heimedall narrows his eyes slightly.
Zoe takes his hostility as a sign to step in. “We don’t mean to offend. There’s somewhere we have to get to after this is all.”
“Right then,” Heimedall replies. “That’s all you hadta say. We can deal.”
“Great,” Mal says. He brushes down the front of his pants with the palms of his hands.
“Yeah.”
“Let’s deal then. As you can see, we’ve got your goods all here. Now, before we play nice and hand it over we’d like to see the cashy money we’re due.”
“That’s reasonable enough a request.” Heimedall nods at his second lackey. “Tones. Show ‘em.” The man, bald and with stunning blue eyes, obeys and with huge hands retrieves a bag from inside his coat. He opens it to reveal the coins and then closes it and tosses the bag to Mal who catches it with ease.
“Shiny. I take it your men can deal with the crates?”
Heimedall nods. “Tones. Matty. You heard the guy.” He watches his men as they begin to haul crate after crate off the back of the mule. The mule empty again, Zoe climbs back on and waits as Mal exchanges last words with Heimedall. Mal joins her a few minutes later and they head back to Serenity while their clients fix the crates to their own mule.
“Good job,” Mal says. “Easy money.”
“Indeed,” Zoe agrees. “And River’s prediction has been proved wrong.”
“Mmm yeah. It’s been a nice, smooth ride.”
“It has.”
They’re silent for nearly a whole minute. Even the mule is oddly noiseless in its journey across the desert-like ground.
“Do you really think she was wrong?” Mal asks then.
“I do.”
“Hmm.”
“You don’t, sir?”
He scratches at his nose and shrugs sheepishly. “I think we’d be best not to ignore her words. Might be something we missed or something not happened yet she’s visioned about. Until we’re off this rock and outta here I don’t want us taking any chances in the case she gets proved right here.”
“Makes sense, sir.”
“Yeah. I hope so.”
They make it back to Serenity without further discussion and without incident. Unscathed, Zoe parks the mule and Mal presses the button to let the ramp back up. Mal orders Wash via the comm system to get them moving and they hit atmo with no problems.
And then the ships appear and a blast of light hurtles towards them at rapid speed.
