Fic: Sticking Point (3/9)
Rating: PG13
Characters: Mal, Wash, Zoe, Bester, Kaylee
Word count: ~470
Summary: Set early pre-series. Serenity is stuck on the ground with major engine trouble. No one's exactly tickled about that fact, some lots less than others. In fact, some find it outright crazy-making.
~Day 3~
A couple hours after his second dawn on Wyoming, Mal found himself in his ship's engine room, obtaining something less than satisfaction from his mechanic.
“Nah, sorry, Mal,” the man said breezily, absently running a thumbnail along the line inked under his left pectoral. “Still no go. Plus, Washburne set us down pretty gorram hard. Think he busted some connections loose, an' so I gotta run those down too, an' that's on top of his nearly fryin' the gravity damper on the inertia screen.”
“His landin' had nothin' to do with us losin' power to the pods in the first place. Y' suss out why that happened yet?”
“Well, no, but I checked off some things it weren't. Like, I thought maybe it was a block in the fuel feeds, but it ain't. Those're clear. Don't help now the drive axis has gone all hinky, can't even get it to turn, to run power through the system.” He shot Mal a sideways look. “Prob'ly, y' know, 'cuz of that rough landing.”
“We're done discussin' the landin'. I am satisfied, as captain, with the quality of our last landin'. You focus your mind on your job, of gettin' my boat back in that sky.” He pointed an emphatic finger upward, affixing Bester with his best captainy glare.
“Sure, I'm on it, Cap,” he replied, grin just a little too cheesy for Mal to believe he was taking the situation as seriously as he should. “But it might take a little longer than I first thought, what with the hinky drive an' the loose connections an' all.”
Mal sighed. “Just get it done, Bester.”
He left the man to his work, frowning his frustration as he stepped through the engine room hatch. And nearly ran smack-dab into Wash, lurking just outside it.
“So, what's the deal? Has he tracked down the problem? Did he give you a time table, tell you when we'll be able to lift off?”
Blinking at this rapid fire peppering of questions, Mal held up a quelling hand. “No, to all of the above.”
“Tzao gao,” Wash muttered, gaze dropping, fingers lighting down for a moment on his upper lip to twiddle with his mustache. Then, eyes widening, he peered into Mal's face, pressing, “Not even a general idea of when we can get back in the Black?”
“'Fraid not. But we're due on Paquin within the next few days, so sooner rather than later, I'm hopin'.”
“Uh huh. Well, maybe I can lend him a hand,” Wash offered eagerly. “I'm not a mechanic, but I do know my way around a toolbox.”
“Good idea, that,” Mal approved, gratified to be getting some enthusiasm from at least one of his crew. “You go on and do that.”
~*~
Tzao gao - crap, damn
On to Day Four...
Characters: Mal, Wash, Zoe, Bester, Kaylee
Word count: ~470
Summary: Set early pre-series. Serenity is stuck on the ground with major engine trouble. No one's exactly tickled about that fact, some lots less than others. In fact, some find it outright crazy-making.
~Day 3~
A couple hours after his second dawn on Wyoming, Mal found himself in his ship's engine room, obtaining something less than satisfaction from his mechanic.
“Nah, sorry, Mal,” the man said breezily, absently running a thumbnail along the line inked under his left pectoral. “Still no go. Plus, Washburne set us down pretty gorram hard. Think he busted some connections loose, an' so I gotta run those down too, an' that's on top of his nearly fryin' the gravity damper on the inertia screen.”
“His landin' had nothin' to do with us losin' power to the pods in the first place. Y' suss out why that happened yet?”
“Well, no, but I checked off some things it weren't. Like, I thought maybe it was a block in the fuel feeds, but it ain't. Those're clear. Don't help now the drive axis has gone all hinky, can't even get it to turn, to run power through the system.” He shot Mal a sideways look. “Prob'ly, y' know, 'cuz of that rough landing.”
“We're done discussin' the landin'. I am satisfied, as captain, with the quality of our last landin'. You focus your mind on your job, of gettin' my boat back in that sky.” He pointed an emphatic finger upward, affixing Bester with his best captainy glare.
“Sure, I'm on it, Cap,” he replied, grin just a little too cheesy for Mal to believe he was taking the situation as seriously as he should. “But it might take a little longer than I first thought, what with the hinky drive an' the loose connections an' all.”
Mal sighed. “Just get it done, Bester.”
He left the man to his work, frowning his frustration as he stepped through the engine room hatch. And nearly ran smack-dab into Wash, lurking just outside it.
“So, what's the deal? Has he tracked down the problem? Did he give you a time table, tell you when we'll be able to lift off?”
Blinking at this rapid fire peppering of questions, Mal held up a quelling hand. “No, to all of the above.”
“Tzao gao,” Wash muttered, gaze dropping, fingers lighting down for a moment on his upper lip to twiddle with his mustache. Then, eyes widening, he peered into Mal's face, pressing, “Not even a general idea of when we can get back in the Black?”
“'Fraid not. But we're due on Paquin within the next few days, so sooner rather than later, I'm hopin'.”
“Uh huh. Well, maybe I can lend him a hand,” Wash offered eagerly. “I'm not a mechanic, but I do know my way around a toolbox.”
“Good idea, that,” Mal approved, gratified to be getting some enthusiasm from at least one of his crew. “You go on and do that.”
~*~
Tzao gao - crap, damn
On to Day Four...