Malcolm Reynolds has seen some rutting weird things in his time. But a tornado inside his cargo bay is definitely something new. Just a little one, mind you, no wider than a handwidth across, but just twirling away in the center of the bay pretty-as-you-like. If the place wasn't so dusty, you'd probably never even notice it.
After a brief hesitation, he decides not to go waking anybody up, and not just because he's not entirely convinced anyone else would see it. Instead, he just eases down the steps and slides along the side of the room toward the airlock release. Shouldn't be a thing but to suck that little twister right out the door.
Soon as he comes away from the wall, though, the gorram thing starts coming toward him. It ain't picking up any of the cargo boxes or anything as it does, just keeps bearing down on him. Mal starts back toward the stairs, but the thing catches up with him before he makes it. He whangs his head on the handrail the first time it spins him, and the world goes black.
He comes to with a sky over his head and ground under his feet, and a great shimmering city just in the distance. "This is definitely the weirdest gorram dream in a damn long time," he decides, rubbing the lump on his head.