Mal Reynolds (capt_tightpants) wrote in parabolical, @ 2008-12-07 03:05:00 |
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Entry tags: | mal reynolds, open, tenel ka djo solo, thread |
who| Mal Reynolds and [OPEN to any and all who'd like to come gawk at the spaceship.]
what| Mal's got ninety-nine problems; and being in a spaceship in 2005 is one.
where| Random McPark, LA
when| Afternoon
rating| PG-13 (For potential Chinese cursing.)
status| Thread, Open, Incomplete.
"Kaylee!"
Serenity had been making all manner of upsetting noise, and while Mal couldn't make head nor tails of what was causing them, he knew what they meant. Beeping and buzzing of that kind meant 'bad things', and he didn't like the idea of them happening to his ship. Maybe on, given that compartments stuffed full of illegal salvage and the subsequent dealings of the same nature (and, well, Jayne.) was commonly considered to be bad things, but not to. He was very clear on that, and it was precisely why he had hired the genius mechanic he was bellowing for as he hauled himself up the ladder from his bunk to the hallway, pushing his suspenders back up onto his shoulders.
"Kaylee, I know you're upset 'cause the Doctor and River got themselves all dissapeared," He paused to grab hold of the wall when the ship gave an uneasy heave. "But this ain't the time to be moping about when there's work to be done--Would you look at this?" He had reached the engineroom, the contents of which had begun smoking in several places with no signs off stopping on their own, and not a hint of girl there to quell it. That Kaylee wasn't already there gave him a pause, given the noises, but it wasn't the first time that had happened, though he always hoped it would be the last. Abandoning the engine room for now, he stomped his way through the ship, checking the mess hall, the bridge, dormatory and finally even Inara's shuttle. Kaylee never went to the infirmary unless forced, since it only made her go moony-eyed for the loss of Simon, and it didn't worry him so much that she wasn't there, but that noone was anywhere. No Zoe, Jayne, Inara, or Kaylee.
We're in space! Wash's frazzled shouting played through his mind. There was no place to pull over, the suits were all still in the bay, and unless everyone had decided to take a leisurely walk to their deaths and managed to do it without opening any doors, there was something amiss. He resumed his investigation with his gun drawn. If his crew had gone the way of the Tams, he was in more trouble than just ending up eating a lonesome dinner that night. He had a ship on the fritz with no mechanic, and a job to finish with no second to watch his--
His train of through was derailed when the ship bucked again, violently this time, throwing him from his feet. A new set of alarms had set off, and they were the kind he recognized. Another sharp shift of the floor beneath his feet came as he was halfway up, but he found the table's edge and made it the other half. It felt like it did when Wash came into atmo too quick, and he stumbled up the stairs to the bridge just in time to see that that was almost exactly the case. It'd already broken, and if he hadn't gotten there when he had, he would have been looking at more than just an engine that needed fixing. Pulling hard on the wheel, he pulled Serenity's nose up in the nick of time; though not with enough time to avoid knicking the corner of a building with her rear.
There was nothing on the Navsat, and no sign of a landing pad that he could find as the ship shakily circled the skyline. It was only sheer luck there was no traffic at his altitude, but he wasn't about to try it against any other factors. After spotting a suitable patch of greenery, probably a park, by the layout of it, he set Serenity down. By then, all manner of strange little ships had begun circling, and he could see people pulling themselves from where they'd been blown over by the engines or run for cover.
Mal's hands fumbled across the controls for a moment, shutting down the engines before seizing the radio with no little amount of irritation. "This is Captain Malcom Reynolds of the Serenity, and I'd like to know why noone saw fit to give me a gorram lock on a docking po--Wuh de ma!" If he hadn't still been strapped in, he would have jumped right out of his seat. Men in unsettlingly black and military-like garb had begun plunking down on his hull, and while he knew the gun aimed at him through the window probably wasn't the kind powerful enough to breach the cockpit's glass panels, it was no less a disturbing sight. He tried the radio again, and this time it did pick up a transmission; staticy babble about an alien craft that had touched down in a local park.
He gave the bridge a long, slow, encompassing look, before turning back to the man attempting to shout at him through the panes.
"Huh."