BSG/Firefly fic: One Yu Bun Duh Planet (Jayne, Helo; PG-13)
Title: One Yu Bun Duh Planet
Characters: Helo (BSG) and Jayne (Firefly)
Rating: PG-13
Words: 1400ish
Summary: Jayne hates this stupid planet and its stupid gorram robots.
Notes: So, I asked valiant her dream crossover pairing, and then she asked mine. I said Jayne/Helo/apocalypse, and she said, "Jayne killing Cylons while smoking a cigar." And then my brain exploded with joy at the very thought. Yu bun duh basically means stupid.
Disclaimer: Clearly I claim no ownership to these characters/contexts; nor am I making money from this fic writing thing.
Jayne can see the guy running through the underbrush - kinda limping - and he sees some of them robots chasing the guy too. He watches for a few moments, hand stroking Vera, wondering if it's a gorram trap. Wouldn't be the first time the robots were working with what looked like a human.
Though, this one don't look so clean as them others. And it looks like he's really running, scared-like. And he ain't so sexy-looking as the that blonde Jayne's seen - five or six different times, even though each time he shot her dead - walking around with the robots.
Guy's stumbling now, and the robots are almost on top of him. Jayne figures it's now or never. He sights the first robot with Vera's scope and fires, making a clean hit. The other one stops, looks around, but Vera shoots him down too. "Good girl," Jayne mutters, around the unlit cigar in his mouth.
Down below, the guy is lying on the ground, panting, looking confused as hell. "Hello?"
Maybe it ain't right to reveal himself, but Jayne needs to know what the gorram hell is going on. Ain't never seen robots before, though he's heard tell of fancy sexbots for rich folk who can't get a real woman. Ain't never seen this place, neither. So he swings himself down from the tree - if Simon were here, maybe he'd bitch about apes again - landing with a loud thud. "Howdy," he says, straightening up and walking towards the guy. He's wearing what looks like some kind of uniform, and his leg is all bloodied up.
"Thanks. I thought I was dead."
Jayne looks down at him, sees the way he's breathing hard, face all flushed up. "Nope. Ain't dead yet." He glances around, crouches down, and lights up his cigar. "Jayne Cobb."
"Helo," the guy says.
It's a gorram stupid name. But then again, Jayne's on some gorram stupid planet, one where they got big ass robots running around and shooting people. "Where the hell am I?" he asks, puffing smoke in Helo's face.
"Caprica. The Cylons attacked."
That don't really help so much.
*
"You've never heard of the Cylons?" Helo asks as they move through the forest.
Jayne's cigar is out now and tucked into his pocket. He ain't sure if maybe the robots can track the way it smells or something, and anyway, he don't want to lose it. "You ain't ever heard of the Reavers?" And then he drops down low, because he can hear the Cylons walking through the brush.
Helo gets down too, and they watch as Cylons walk by, about as loud as Mal when he's in a pissy mood.
"Don't shoot them," Helo whispers. "Wait it out. They're moving past us. Shooting them might alert others."
Jayne shrugs, hoisting Vera up a little. "I like shootin' 'em," he says, and then he does. First he takes out one of the big Centurions - that's what Helo calls them - and then the little blonde woman with them. That makes this the seventh time he's seen her.
He's about to take out the second and third Centurion when Helo does it for him. "Nice shooting," Jayne says, grinning.
Helo frowns at him. "Have you ever heard of stealth? Tactics?"
Sure. Jayne's heard of them. Don't mean they're friends or nothing.
*
Helo bitches about radiation sickness and makes Jayne shoot himself with some gorram medicine in a little bitty needle. Helo mutters about getting a ship and getting off the planet and finding something called Galactica. Jayne just thinks about food. And maybe a couple more cigars, because he's running low.
Helo doesn't understand why there are so many blonde women with the Cylons. Jayne rolls his eyes and says, "'Cause they're Cylons too, dumb ass." It's obvious. Even if they bleed when Jayne shoots them.
Helo says that his leg is getting better, but then he stumbles when he walks sometimes, and Jayne thinks that maybe Helo is going to get him killed.
Jayne hates this gorram planet and its endless gorram rain, and the yu bun duh robots that are trying to kill them.
Helo says that sometimes the planet had felt like home.
*
Fifth day. Jayne's sick of running in the mud. Vera needs a good cleaning. He counts that he's killed twenty-eight of them Centurions and twelve of them blonde ones. He ain't been shot once, and he thinks that's a damn good count.
"How many have you killed?" he asks in a quiet moment. They're holed up in some old shack, and it's good to be almost drying out. They should keep moving because the Cylons don't care about the rain, but sometimes a man's got to rest.
"I wasn't counting," Helo says.
Jayne shakes his head. This guy is no fun. Mal would've been counting. Hell, Zoe too. It would've been a competition, something to keep them alert. "Know what I want to know? Why you guys got robots in the first place. Alliance ain't never had robots like that. Too much trouble."
Helo just looks at him, like maybe he thinks Jayne is thick in the head. "Who are you?"
Maybe it's Helo who's thick in the head. "Told you. Jayne Cobb."
"What kind of person has never heard of Cylons? And what kind of gun is that?"
Jayne looks down at Vera, cradled in his lap, wondering why Helo ain't asked before. Man ain't got the right priorities. "Gun that saved your ass. I call her Vera."
There's a long pause. "You named your gun?"
"You don't?" Some people ain't right in the head. Maybe it's the radiation.
But Helo grins, slow, and then he kind of laughs, rough hiccups. "We've got to get off this planet. I have a friend you need to meet."
*
They get into a city, and there's a few dead bodies here and there. Ain't near as many as he'd figured there'd be. Jayne's seen worse. At least they ain't been eaten. But Helo looks a little green around the eyes.
It's better in the city. There's food and Helo finds anti-radiation meds, and Jayne picks up a few new guns. Hiding out and staying dry is easier too.
But there are more Cylons, and it's harder to kill them quiet-like. Jayne starts thinking about maybe using some grenades. He's only got four of them, and he's been saving them. Maybe they can hit a big group, kill a bunch at once.
He's about to make the suggestion when Helo motions him to hide.
Centurions go marching past, too gorram many of them, and Jayne don't like it one bit. Though he's kind of itching to throw a grenade.
There's another human-looking one with them, but she ain't the blonde type. She's cute though. He don't get it. Why'd the Centurions go and build themselves different types of pretty girls? Ain't like them Centurions seem too interested in a good thrust. Maybe it's like some of them old, rich, Core worlders. Can't get it up, but they still want a pretty face right next to them.
Beside him, Helo says, "Frak."
He sounds all kinds of out of sorts. It makes Jayne think of the way Mal sometimes gets when a job goes bad, even badder than they could've guessed it would go. Jayne straightens up, nervy. "What?"
"With them. I know her." His face is all scrunched up, like maybe he's been punched in the gut. "It's Sharon. She's supposed to be on Galactica."
"Well she ain't," Jayne says.
"We've got to get back. Fast."
Hell. Jayne thought that was what they were working on. He watches as the Centurions stop moving and line themselves up in rows, all facing in one direction. "Where's the gorram spaceport?"
Helo gestures, beyond the Centurions and the pretty girl robot.
Gorram. He reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out a grenade. "Get ready to run," he says.
"What the frak - no, wait - "
But Jayne is sick of gorram waiting. He throws the grenade, landing it right in the middle of the Centurions. They look at it for a moment, but they're too gorram slow, and it makes a real satisfying explosion.
"You're frakking insane," Helo yells, but already he's running, hardly limping at all.
"You ain't got any idea about insane," Jayne yells back, because Helo's never met River on a bad day. Or hell, on a good day.
He runs, right through the twitching bits of Centurions, following Helo's lead. Three grenades left. He figures that's enough to get them to a ship and off this piece of shit planet.
Gorram. Jayne loves grenades.
End.
Characters: Helo (BSG) and Jayne (Firefly)
Rating: PG-13
Words: 1400ish
Summary: Jayne hates this stupid planet and its stupid gorram robots.
Notes: So, I asked valiant her dream crossover pairing, and then she asked mine. I said Jayne/Helo/apocalypse, and she said, "Jayne killing Cylons while smoking a cigar." And then my brain exploded with joy at the very thought. Yu bun duh basically means stupid.
Disclaimer: Clearly I claim no ownership to these characters/contexts; nor am I making money from this fic writing thing.
Jayne can see the guy running through the underbrush - kinda limping - and he sees some of them robots chasing the guy too. He watches for a few moments, hand stroking Vera, wondering if it's a gorram trap. Wouldn't be the first time the robots were working with what looked like a human.
Though, this one don't look so clean as them others. And it looks like he's really running, scared-like. And he ain't so sexy-looking as the that blonde Jayne's seen - five or six different times, even though each time he shot her dead - walking around with the robots.
Guy's stumbling now, and the robots are almost on top of him. Jayne figures it's now or never. He sights the first robot with Vera's scope and fires, making a clean hit. The other one stops, looks around, but Vera shoots him down too. "Good girl," Jayne mutters, around the unlit cigar in his mouth.
Down below, the guy is lying on the ground, panting, looking confused as hell. "Hello?"
Maybe it ain't right to reveal himself, but Jayne needs to know what the gorram hell is going on. Ain't never seen robots before, though he's heard tell of fancy sexbots for rich folk who can't get a real woman. Ain't never seen this place, neither. So he swings himself down from the tree - if Simon were here, maybe he'd bitch about apes again - landing with a loud thud. "Howdy," he says, straightening up and walking towards the guy. He's wearing what looks like some kind of uniform, and his leg is all bloodied up.
"Thanks. I thought I was dead."
Jayne looks down at him, sees the way he's breathing hard, face all flushed up. "Nope. Ain't dead yet." He glances around, crouches down, and lights up his cigar. "Jayne Cobb."
"Helo," the guy says.
It's a gorram stupid name. But then again, Jayne's on some gorram stupid planet, one where they got big ass robots running around and shooting people. "Where the hell am I?" he asks, puffing smoke in Helo's face.
"Caprica. The Cylons attacked."
That don't really help so much.
*
"You've never heard of the Cylons?" Helo asks as they move through the forest.
Jayne's cigar is out now and tucked into his pocket. He ain't sure if maybe the robots can track the way it smells or something, and anyway, he don't want to lose it. "You ain't ever heard of the Reavers?" And then he drops down low, because he can hear the Cylons walking through the brush.
Helo gets down too, and they watch as Cylons walk by, about as loud as Mal when he's in a pissy mood.
"Don't shoot them," Helo whispers. "Wait it out. They're moving past us. Shooting them might alert others."
Jayne shrugs, hoisting Vera up a little. "I like shootin' 'em," he says, and then he does. First he takes out one of the big Centurions - that's what Helo calls them - and then the little blonde woman with them. That makes this the seventh time he's seen her.
He's about to take out the second and third Centurion when Helo does it for him. "Nice shooting," Jayne says, grinning.
Helo frowns at him. "Have you ever heard of stealth? Tactics?"
Sure. Jayne's heard of them. Don't mean they're friends or nothing.
*
Helo bitches about radiation sickness and makes Jayne shoot himself with some gorram medicine in a little bitty needle. Helo mutters about getting a ship and getting off the planet and finding something called Galactica. Jayne just thinks about food. And maybe a couple more cigars, because he's running low.
Helo doesn't understand why there are so many blonde women with the Cylons. Jayne rolls his eyes and says, "'Cause they're Cylons too, dumb ass." It's obvious. Even if they bleed when Jayne shoots them.
Helo says that his leg is getting better, but then he stumbles when he walks sometimes, and Jayne thinks that maybe Helo is going to get him killed.
Jayne hates this gorram planet and its endless gorram rain, and the yu bun duh robots that are trying to kill them.
Helo says that sometimes the planet had felt like home.
*
Fifth day. Jayne's sick of running in the mud. Vera needs a good cleaning. He counts that he's killed twenty-eight of them Centurions and twelve of them blonde ones. He ain't been shot once, and he thinks that's a damn good count.
"How many have you killed?" he asks in a quiet moment. They're holed up in some old shack, and it's good to be almost drying out. They should keep moving because the Cylons don't care about the rain, but sometimes a man's got to rest.
"I wasn't counting," Helo says.
Jayne shakes his head. This guy is no fun. Mal would've been counting. Hell, Zoe too. It would've been a competition, something to keep them alert. "Know what I want to know? Why you guys got robots in the first place. Alliance ain't never had robots like that. Too much trouble."
Helo just looks at him, like maybe he thinks Jayne is thick in the head. "Who are you?"
Maybe it's Helo who's thick in the head. "Told you. Jayne Cobb."
"What kind of person has never heard of Cylons? And what kind of gun is that?"
Jayne looks down at Vera, cradled in his lap, wondering why Helo ain't asked before. Man ain't got the right priorities. "Gun that saved your ass. I call her Vera."
There's a long pause. "You named your gun?"
"You don't?" Some people ain't right in the head. Maybe it's the radiation.
But Helo grins, slow, and then he kind of laughs, rough hiccups. "We've got to get off this planet. I have a friend you need to meet."
*
They get into a city, and there's a few dead bodies here and there. Ain't near as many as he'd figured there'd be. Jayne's seen worse. At least they ain't been eaten. But Helo looks a little green around the eyes.
It's better in the city. There's food and Helo finds anti-radiation meds, and Jayne picks up a few new guns. Hiding out and staying dry is easier too.
But there are more Cylons, and it's harder to kill them quiet-like. Jayne starts thinking about maybe using some grenades. He's only got four of them, and he's been saving them. Maybe they can hit a big group, kill a bunch at once.
He's about to make the suggestion when Helo motions him to hide.
Centurions go marching past, too gorram many of them, and Jayne don't like it one bit. Though he's kind of itching to throw a grenade.
There's another human-looking one with them, but she ain't the blonde type. She's cute though. He don't get it. Why'd the Centurions go and build themselves different types of pretty girls? Ain't like them Centurions seem too interested in a good thrust. Maybe it's like some of them old, rich, Core worlders. Can't get it up, but they still want a pretty face right next to them.
Beside him, Helo says, "Frak."
He sounds all kinds of out of sorts. It makes Jayne think of the way Mal sometimes gets when a job goes bad, even badder than they could've guessed it would go. Jayne straightens up, nervy. "What?"
"With them. I know her." His face is all scrunched up, like maybe he's been punched in the gut. "It's Sharon. She's supposed to be on Galactica."
"Well she ain't," Jayne says.
"We've got to get back. Fast."
Hell. Jayne thought that was what they were working on. He watches as the Centurions stop moving and line themselves up in rows, all facing in one direction. "Where's the gorram spaceport?"
Helo gestures, beyond the Centurions and the pretty girl robot.
Gorram. He reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out a grenade. "Get ready to run," he says.
"What the frak - no, wait - "
But Jayne is sick of gorram waiting. He throws the grenade, landing it right in the middle of the Centurions. They look at it for a moment, but they're too gorram slow, and it makes a real satisfying explosion.
"You're frakking insane," Helo yells, but already he's running, hardly limping at all.
"You ain't got any idea about insane," Jayne yells back, because Helo's never met River on a bad day. Or hell, on a good day.
He runs, right through the twitching bits of Centurions, following Helo's lead. Three grenades left. He figures that's enough to get them to a ship and off this piece of shit planet.
Gorram. Jayne loves grenades.
End.