Fic: Three Ficlets on the Question of the Living Dead (Stargate; Firefly; BSG)
Title: Three ficlets on the question of the living dead
Fandoms/Characters: Stargate (Teal'c, Cameron); Firefly (Jayne/Kaylee); and Battlestar Galactica (Starbuck, Anders)
Rating: PG-13
Words: about 1650
Summary: Zombies. I'm not kidding.
Notes: So, I just finished reading Max Brooks' Zombie Survival Guide , and it got me thinking about zombies in Stargate, Firefly, and BSG. Yeah, I'm easily influenced. Some key zombie characteristics drawn from the book.
Disclaimer: Clearly I claim no ownership to the BSG, Stargate, or Firefly 'verse or its characters; nor am I making money from this fic writing thing.
"You're kidding me," Cameron said, as he crested the ridge. "I gotta say, now's not the best time for that, either." He hunkered down, aimed, and fired. It was a headshot, clean and clear, and another one of their pursuers fell.
"I am serious," Teal'c said, rapidly firing and taking out three more.
Cameron stood, catching his breath. At least the - things - couldn't keep up with them. They had to be the slowest bad guys he'd met in a while.
'Met' in a strictly 'Quit trying to eat me' sense.
"So. Zombies?" This time his shot only hit the shoulder, and the thing just kept coming.
"I believe that is the Tau'ri term."
"Interstellar space-zombies?" It was like a bad, bad joke.
"I did not say that."
Four shots, three more hits, and Cameron still counted more than thirty of the things. At least they were slowing even more - the terrain was rocky and uneven, and it looked like maybe they couldn't handle that too well. They stumbled easily. It almost made up for the insatiable hunger issue.
"How come we've never heard of this before?"
Teal'c shot him a look of disgust. "There are numerous stories on your world."
"Stories! Bad horror flicks! Or, OK, sometimes not too bad horror flicks, but still stories."
"Much like your stories of small, grey aliens?"
"Hey, now that isn't -" he shot two more, " - what we're talking about here!"
"Move," Teal'c said.
Yeah, maybe now was the time to get to the next level of the hill. Getting back down was going to be a real pain in Cameron's ass. Hell, maybe he'd just roll.
He climbed. And climbed. The hill was getting more like a mountain, and damn, this was not the mission he'd been looking for today. The things - the zombies - kept after them. "So you've," he grasped onto a rock and hauled himself up, "seen these things before?"
"No." Teal'c turned, one hand helping Cameron up onto the rocky ledge.
"But you know everything about them." Rock climbing was annoying on the best of days. He leaned forward, hands on his thighs, taking deep breaths.
Teal'c wasn't even winded. "The Goa'uld do not appreciate creatures attacking subjects and potential hosts," he said easily, shooting again. "All Jaffa are trained to recognize and deal with infestations of Dead Eaters."
"Dead Eaters?"
"They are dead. And yet they eat."
Right. Some days, Cameron was sure the Goa'uld had no imagination. Too damn literal.
"There had not been a severe infestation in Apophis' domain since before my father was born. Nevertheless, I was taught to recognize the signs. These people," he gestured below them, at the barely visible settlement that was now devoid of life, "had clearly grown complacent since the rebellion."
Yeah, well they might have been complacent at one time, but now complacent wasn't how Cameron would put it. Ravenous, unrelenting, and just plain ugly was more like it. "So, not a Prior thing, then?"
"I do not believe so."
He shot again, they both did. Bodies fell, rolling down the hill, slowing down the ones that were still moving. "Well, at least there's that."
"Indeed."
"But zombies," he said, reloading his gun, "zombies. What the hell? Jackson is going to have a field day with this. Zombies. Who would've thought?"
Teal'c stopped firing momentarily. "Colonel Mitchell, when we return to the SGC, there is a book I believe you must read."
"Oh yeah? Thinking of starting a book club, huh?" It really was a day for firsts.
* * * *
"Are they Reavers?" Kaylee asks, looking worriedly at the door. Reavers don't stop. No door will hold them, not even one that can be locked from the inside.
"No," Jayne snorts, reloading his gun. "Don't take much to see that."
"But how do you know?"
"Weren't you looking at 'em? Reavers least got clothes that ain't falling off. Reavers don't look so corpsified. And anyway, you ever seen Reavers that move so slow?"
She hasn't. But maybe they're just sick Reavers or something.
Maybe they ain't had a good meal for a long time.
She tries not to think about that, and instead watches as Jayne reaches under his bed, pulling out a narrow, long box. It ain't like any of his other weapons boxes. All the times she's come down here, she ain't seen this particular box.
But then, she ain't usually down here so she can look at Jayne's guns. "What's that?"
He shrugs and says, "Sword."
"Sword?" She never figured Jayne would own a sword. Swords are for fancy folk, them who don't need to fight in really bad situations.
"Yep." He opens up the box, and yeah, it really is a sword. Ain't like the one Inara said that Mal used, that time on Persephone. It's kinda short, and it's got blade that's a little bit curved. And it don't look like something rich people own. It looks rough and mean. Jayne takes it out of the box and holds it like it's an old friend, one he don't get to see too often.
"You sure you wanna use that against them things?" No way would Kaylee want to get that close. She can hear them through the door, the way they moan like something's really bugging them. If she had to listen to that for too long, she'd go mad, she just knows it.
"Naw. Bullet's still the best thing, long as you put in the brain." He points to a gun on the wall, a bitty one. It's almost pretty, like he polishes and shines it up real well. "That one's for you." He holds the sword up. "This thing is just for backup, for if something jams up. Also, it's for fun."
Kaylee can't see the fun, but Jayne's got some crazy ideas at the best of time. She looks at the gun on the wall again. Guns. She still ain't comfortable with them. But she takes it anyway. "Where'd they come from?"
"Town, I figure."
Town, where the rest of the crew are. "What about the others? You think -"
Jayne shrugs and stands. "Mal'll know what to do, once he sees what he's dealin' with." He slides the sword through a loop in his belt. Kaylee's looked at that loop a few times, while she's taking the belt off, and she never figured it was for a sword. But it looks right on him, fits right in with the guns in their holsters, and the knives Jayne's got here and there.
Jayne gestures at the ventilation grill above his bed. "We're goin' out that way. Got the gun?"
"Yes."
"And bullets?"
She ain't a moron.
He grins at the way she looks at him. "Just remember. They don't move real fast, but they won't stop comin' until you shoot 'em in the head. So take yer time, and aim before your shoot. Stay calm. Got it?"
Kaylee nods, and Jayne boosts her up. She pushes open the grill and pulls herself inside the ventilation shaft. They're another thing to love about a Firefly - big enough for someone like Jayne to crawl around in. Looking down, she sees Jayne keying the door to his room open.
"Jayne!"
He grins up at her and hauls himself up to the shaft just as the first of the creatures falls into his room. It claws at his foot, but Jayne shakes it off easily.
"That's another thing," he says, as he peers through the opening and firing. "They can't climb."
* * * *
They come out of the water. Kara isn't really surprised. So far on New Caprica, nothing good has come out of the water. Thirty-one days into the building of the new colony, and the water's still not fit to drink - Cottle and Tyrol are still trying to find a way to filter whatever it is that makes whoever drinks the water sick. The fish, if that's what you want to call them, taste worse than old boots, and only the hardiest of the colonists can eat them.
And even bathing has caused some people to come out in rashes that tend to get infected. As far as Kara's concerned, the water's a write-off. Frak, most days, she figures the whole planet is.
The day that the things come out of the water, she starts to wonder what she was thinking, coming down here. It seemed like a good idea at the time, but it's starting to look like the most monumental of frak-ups. And she figures she's not alone in thinking that way.
"What are they?" she yells, as she runs towards the colony. The wet sand drags at her feet. She and Anders had joined a scouting party out looking for something, anything, to maybe make life a little easier, and to make this planet look less like a death trap.
"How the frak should I know?" He's keeping pace with her, but some of the others are falling back. It's a long way to the colony, and the creatures are slow, but not everyone will be able to sustain the run all the way home.
She tries not to think of the two they've already lost, back at the water's edge. She's never seen anything fall on prey - because she knows that's what they are right now - like that. Never. Even the Cylons just kill and move on.
They don't eat. They don't enjoy it.
She keeps running, and she tries not to think too hard on what this might mean for the colony. Sure, there might only be a couple of the creatures right now, and they might look like they're rotting away. But the real problem, the one that's making her feel sick, is that they look human.
And there haven't been any colonist or military deaths on New Caprica. Not until today.
End
Fandoms/Characters: Stargate (Teal'c, Cameron); Firefly (Jayne/Kaylee); and Battlestar Galactica (Starbuck, Anders)
Rating: PG-13
Words: about 1650
Summary: Zombies. I'm not kidding.
Notes: So, I just finished reading Max Brooks' Zombie Survival Guide , and it got me thinking about zombies in Stargate, Firefly, and BSG. Yeah, I'm easily influenced. Some key zombie characteristics drawn from the book.
Disclaimer: Clearly I claim no ownership to the BSG, Stargate, or Firefly 'verse or its characters; nor am I making money from this fic writing thing.
"You're kidding me," Cameron said, as he crested the ridge. "I gotta say, now's not the best time for that, either." He hunkered down, aimed, and fired. It was a headshot, clean and clear, and another one of their pursuers fell.
"I am serious," Teal'c said, rapidly firing and taking out three more.
Cameron stood, catching his breath. At least the - things - couldn't keep up with them. They had to be the slowest bad guys he'd met in a while.
'Met' in a strictly 'Quit trying to eat me' sense.
"So. Zombies?" This time his shot only hit the shoulder, and the thing just kept coming.
"I believe that is the Tau'ri term."
"Interstellar space-zombies?" It was like a bad, bad joke.
"I did not say that."
Four shots, three more hits, and Cameron still counted more than thirty of the things. At least they were slowing even more - the terrain was rocky and uneven, and it looked like maybe they couldn't handle that too well. They stumbled easily. It almost made up for the insatiable hunger issue.
"How come we've never heard of this before?"
Teal'c shot him a look of disgust. "There are numerous stories on your world."
"Stories! Bad horror flicks! Or, OK, sometimes not too bad horror flicks, but still stories."
"Much like your stories of small, grey aliens?"
"Hey, now that isn't -" he shot two more, " - what we're talking about here!"
"Move," Teal'c said.
Yeah, maybe now was the time to get to the next level of the hill. Getting back down was going to be a real pain in Cameron's ass. Hell, maybe he'd just roll.
He climbed. And climbed. The hill was getting more like a mountain, and damn, this was not the mission he'd been looking for today. The things - the zombies - kept after them. "So you've," he grasped onto a rock and hauled himself up, "seen these things before?"
"No." Teal'c turned, one hand helping Cameron up onto the rocky ledge.
"But you know everything about them." Rock climbing was annoying on the best of days. He leaned forward, hands on his thighs, taking deep breaths.
Teal'c wasn't even winded. "The Goa'uld do not appreciate creatures attacking subjects and potential hosts," he said easily, shooting again. "All Jaffa are trained to recognize and deal with infestations of Dead Eaters."
"Dead Eaters?"
"They are dead. And yet they eat."
Right. Some days, Cameron was sure the Goa'uld had no imagination. Too damn literal.
"There had not been a severe infestation in Apophis' domain since before my father was born. Nevertheless, I was taught to recognize the signs. These people," he gestured below them, at the barely visible settlement that was now devoid of life, "had clearly grown complacent since the rebellion."
Yeah, well they might have been complacent at one time, but now complacent wasn't how Cameron would put it. Ravenous, unrelenting, and just plain ugly was more like it. "So, not a Prior thing, then?"
"I do not believe so."
He shot again, they both did. Bodies fell, rolling down the hill, slowing down the ones that were still moving. "Well, at least there's that."
"Indeed."
"But zombies," he said, reloading his gun, "zombies. What the hell? Jackson is going to have a field day with this. Zombies. Who would've thought?"
Teal'c stopped firing momentarily. "Colonel Mitchell, when we return to the SGC, there is a book I believe you must read."
"Oh yeah? Thinking of starting a book club, huh?" It really was a day for firsts.
* * * *
"Are they Reavers?" Kaylee asks, looking worriedly at the door. Reavers don't stop. No door will hold them, not even one that can be locked from the inside.
"No," Jayne snorts, reloading his gun. "Don't take much to see that."
"But how do you know?"
"Weren't you looking at 'em? Reavers least got clothes that ain't falling off. Reavers don't look so corpsified. And anyway, you ever seen Reavers that move so slow?"
She hasn't. But maybe they're just sick Reavers or something.
Maybe they ain't had a good meal for a long time.
She tries not to think about that, and instead watches as Jayne reaches under his bed, pulling out a narrow, long box. It ain't like any of his other weapons boxes. All the times she's come down here, she ain't seen this particular box.
But then, she ain't usually down here so she can look at Jayne's guns. "What's that?"
He shrugs and says, "Sword."
"Sword?" She never figured Jayne would own a sword. Swords are for fancy folk, them who don't need to fight in really bad situations.
"Yep." He opens up the box, and yeah, it really is a sword. Ain't like the one Inara said that Mal used, that time on Persephone. It's kinda short, and it's got blade that's a little bit curved. And it don't look like something rich people own. It looks rough and mean. Jayne takes it out of the box and holds it like it's an old friend, one he don't get to see too often.
"You sure you wanna use that against them things?" No way would Kaylee want to get that close. She can hear them through the door, the way they moan like something's really bugging them. If she had to listen to that for too long, she'd go mad, she just knows it.
"Naw. Bullet's still the best thing, long as you put in the brain." He points to a gun on the wall, a bitty one. It's almost pretty, like he polishes and shines it up real well. "That one's for you." He holds the sword up. "This thing is just for backup, for if something jams up. Also, it's for fun."
Kaylee can't see the fun, but Jayne's got some crazy ideas at the best of time. She looks at the gun on the wall again. Guns. She still ain't comfortable with them. But she takes it anyway. "Where'd they come from?"
"Town, I figure."
Town, where the rest of the crew are. "What about the others? You think -"
Jayne shrugs and stands. "Mal'll know what to do, once he sees what he's dealin' with." He slides the sword through a loop in his belt. Kaylee's looked at that loop a few times, while she's taking the belt off, and she never figured it was for a sword. But it looks right on him, fits right in with the guns in their holsters, and the knives Jayne's got here and there.
Jayne gestures at the ventilation grill above his bed. "We're goin' out that way. Got the gun?"
"Yes."
"And bullets?"
She ain't a moron.
He grins at the way she looks at him. "Just remember. They don't move real fast, but they won't stop comin' until you shoot 'em in the head. So take yer time, and aim before your shoot. Stay calm. Got it?"
Kaylee nods, and Jayne boosts her up. She pushes open the grill and pulls herself inside the ventilation shaft. They're another thing to love about a Firefly - big enough for someone like Jayne to crawl around in. Looking down, she sees Jayne keying the door to his room open.
"Jayne!"
He grins up at her and hauls himself up to the shaft just as the first of the creatures falls into his room. It claws at his foot, but Jayne shakes it off easily.
"That's another thing," he says, as he peers through the opening and firing. "They can't climb."
* * * *
They come out of the water. Kara isn't really surprised. So far on New Caprica, nothing good has come out of the water. Thirty-one days into the building of the new colony, and the water's still not fit to drink - Cottle and Tyrol are still trying to find a way to filter whatever it is that makes whoever drinks the water sick. The fish, if that's what you want to call them, taste worse than old boots, and only the hardiest of the colonists can eat them.
And even bathing has caused some people to come out in rashes that tend to get infected. As far as Kara's concerned, the water's a write-off. Frak, most days, she figures the whole planet is.
The day that the things come out of the water, she starts to wonder what she was thinking, coming down here. It seemed like a good idea at the time, but it's starting to look like the most monumental of frak-ups. And she figures she's not alone in thinking that way.
"What are they?" she yells, as she runs towards the colony. The wet sand drags at her feet. She and Anders had joined a scouting party out looking for something, anything, to maybe make life a little easier, and to make this planet look less like a death trap.
"How the frak should I know?" He's keeping pace with her, but some of the others are falling back. It's a long way to the colony, and the creatures are slow, but not everyone will be able to sustain the run all the way home.
She tries not to think of the two they've already lost, back at the water's edge. She's never seen anything fall on prey - because she knows that's what they are right now - like that. Never. Even the Cylons just kill and move on.
They don't eat. They don't enjoy it.
She keeps running, and she tries not to think too hard on what this might mean for the colony. Sure, there might only be a couple of the creatures right now, and they might look like they're rotting away. But the real problem, the one that's making her feel sick, is that they look human.
And there haven't been any colonist or military deaths on New Caprica. Not until today.
End