Fic: Serenity [warning: unfinished]
Title: Serenity [Excerpts from an unfinished fic]
Rating: PG-13 (no, really!)
Character, Pairing: Ensemble. No actual relationships developed, although there was Nathan/Peter, Mohinder/Sylar, and Elle/anything that moves planned for this.
Disclaimer: Firefly belongs to Joss, Heroes belongs to Tim. I know I’ve used verbatim lines from the Firefly pilot, but I couldn’t not do it. Don’t sue me.
Author’s notes: This is a Firefly/Heroes fusion fic (Heroes characters in the Firefly ‘verse, no Firefly characters). I meant to write this for the 2008 Heroes Big Boom, but I was never really happy with it. This was HARD! But I got quite a bit written, so I thought ya’ll should enjoy the fruits of the universe that will never be. I put the biggest chunk together up front, and then I included some little snippets from scenes I wrote with alternative “casting.” Because I couldn’t decide who should be in the box. Seriously. If you haven’t seen Firefly, I’m not sure how much sense this will make, since there are a few chunks of plot missing, not to mention no ending at all. Also, I’m going to pepper this with notes as I go, between scenes, because otherwise it won’t make a damn bit of sense. So I make no claim to this being a good/complete story. I just thought ya’ll might be interested in seeing a little never-to-be-finished symphony.
Summary: The job should be simple: get a ship, get a crew, keep flying. But for Captain Nathan Petrelli, nothing ever goes smooth. When a job goes south and he has to take on some shady passengers all of his crew, and the life he’s built since the war, are endangered.
Mortars exploded over Serenity Valley. Night and smoke made visibility terrible, but occasionally the flash of an explosion lit up a section of the tunnel-ridden hills, illuminating a small group of soldiers crouched here or there among the rocks. Shouting and the rattle of big guns filled the valley. Sergeant Nathan Petrelli charged up the hill on a trail that was little more than a goat track leading to an entrenched cave. He threw himself flat in the dirt at the cave’s mouth just as an Alliance plane buzzed overhead, firing to obliterate the path he’d just followed. He spared a quick glance for the crater that marked where he’d been standing a minute before and made the sign of the cross before picking himself up and ducking into the cave.
“Rosen, where’s my air support?” he called to the tall young man hunched over the field radio.
Private First Class West Rosen looked up at Nathan with frightened eyes. “They won’t move without a lieutenant’s authorization code.”
A woman slid into th=0’e mouth of the cave and flattened her back against the wall next to Nathan. Kimiko’s dark hair was disheveled, and her face was streaked with dirt where the dust of the valley mixed with sweat. “Sir, we need to do something about those big guns. We’re pinned down here like bugs.”
Nathan nodded. He went further into the cave, eyes searching the bodies that lined the walls until he found the one he was looking for. He reached down and ripped the patch off the dead man’s uniform. Then he jogged back over to Private Rosen and pressed it into his hands. “Congratulations, you’re a lieutenant,” he said. “Now get me some air support.”
Nathan returned to where his second in command was pressed against the cave wall, peering out at the chaos. She said, “There’s at least one of the plasma cannons between us and where they’re shooting. Why don’t-?”
“Cover me,” Nathan interrupted. “We’ll kill two birds with one stone.”
He darted out into the line of fire, and Kimiko swore under her breath. “Rosen, I’m going after him. Watch our backs.” Rosen was crouched next to the radio, staring at her blankly. “Rosen!” He didn’t react. “West!” Nothing. “Damnit.” She darted out of the cave after her leader.
Nathan dodged and weaved his way down the side of the hill. He slid to a dusty stop behind a pile of rocks. When he turned, he saw Kimiko planting her rifle against her shoulder and dropping a purple-bellied Alliance grunt as he came around an outcropping next to Nathan. With a nod of thanks, Nathan used his teeth to pull the pin out of a grenade, and lobbed it up into the nest where the plasma cannon sat surrounded by sandbags.
He pressed his hands to his ears, waiting, and soon enough he was rewarded with a tremendous boom, a smattering of screams, and a shower of dust and shale. He scrambled out from under cover and climbed up into the nest. The bodies of two Alliance men lay broken on the ground, and Nathan spared them a grim nod as he stepped up to the plasma cannon. He said a quick Hail Mary under his breath, then hit the switch to fire her up. With a whine, she came to life. Hallelujah-she wasn’t damaged.
Nathan slung his gun over his shoulder and grabbed hold of the cannon, pointing it up to the night sky where a squad of small Alliance planes was tear-assing across the valley. Just before one of the bastards entered his sights, he fired. The cannon kicked back against his shoulders, and fire flared from the side of the plane.
“Waaaahaaa!” Nathan called, stepping back to pump a fist into the air in triumph. As he watched, the plane lost altitude, dropping closer to the valley… And directly toward him. “Shit.” He ran, vaulting out of the nest and throwing himself to the ground just as the falling plane crashed into the nest.
“Sir!”
Nathan’s head snapped up to see Kimiko firing again, just over his head. He felt a body hit the dirt a few feet away.
“We need to get back under cover!” she shouted.
Nathan pushed himself off the ground and weaved his way back to the cave, where he dropped to the ground and took a moment to brush the grit out of his eyes. Kimiko followed right behind, slumping down next to him and breathing hard. “There’s got to be six squads out there,” she said softly.
“We’re going to die.” Rosen stared at them from where he was still huddled next to the radio. “We’re trapped like rats in a maze. They’re going to blow us all away.”
“No, no no.” Nathan went over to kneel next to the private and grab him by the shoulder. “We’re not going to die. Not now. The Alliance said they were just going to waltz through Serenity Valley, and we made them eat those words today. We’ve done the impossible, and that makes us mighty.” He looked back at Kimiko. She gave him a grim nod and moved over to the radio where she pried the lieutenant’s patch out of the private’s hands and took up the radio as Nathan pulled Rosen over to the cave’s entrance.
“Just hold yourself together,” Nathan told him. “Soon as we get some planes in here, Alliance will be running scared. This is the turning point of this war; you’ll see. We’re not going to die. You know why?” He brushed dust off his shoulders before doing the same to Rosen’s uniform. “Because we are too damn pretty to die.”
Outside, a distant rumble began to shake the valley. Nathan’s heart soared as he heard it. “That’s angels! That’s salvation, boy. Right there.” Nathan stood up to look out of the mouth of the cave.
Instead of the sleek, lithe lines of Independent fighters, the bulky, towering bulk of Alliance heavy cruisers marred the sky. Rosen stood up beside him to look. Nathan barely heard the bullet hit him, barely registered the body as it dropped back onto the cave floor.
Behind him, Kimiko lowered the radio receiver. “They say it’s too hot, sir. They’re not coming.”
Nathan stared out into the night at the Alliance ships, bombs laying a blanket of fire over the valley.
--
Note: Zoe (played by Kimiko, here), was probably the hardest character to cast. If I’d seen season three, I probably would have cast Daphne. But it needed to be someone who had a special relationship with Hiro (because no one else but Hiro would have played Wash), and Niki didn’t fit that bill. There were drafts of this in which Adam was Zoe. And that was pretty good. But I can to the conclusion eventually that Zoe just had to be a woman. Even though I never really thought she had the appropriate amount of sass. Sorry, Adam.
--
Six years later
Nathan kept his eyes trained on the derelict in front of him. It wasn’t much to look at, certainly not compared to his own ship, which even now stood sentinel off beyond the wreckage, but there was something here worth having, if his sources were right. Nathan could feel the pressure of the black pushing in on him, calling to him from all around, but he was isolated from it by the tough skin of his walk suit and by his crew crowded in on either side of him.
On his right, Kimiko grabbed hold of a handle on the outside of the ship’s hull and clipped a cable on so they wouldn’t float away while they worked.
On his left, Elle planted her feet on either side of the cargo hatch and took careful aim with the plasma cutter. It sliced into the metal skin of the ship like butter, and Elle cackled into her intercom, “Burn baby burn.” She cut a careful square around the hatch’s handle. When the glowing red lines of melted metal met, the square popped out with a hiss of pressurized air.
“Seal’s good,” Nathan said.
Kimiko gave a satisfied nod. “Load must be intact.”
“Let’s get what we came for.”
--
Hiro held one samurai action figure in each hand, walking them across the navigation panel. He stopped them at the far edge so they were looking out over the bridge.
“And Kensei Takezo said, ‘This land is green and fertile.’” Hiro gestured over the bridge with the action figure. “’I will rule over all Japan, and I will call it… Japan.’”
“I think we should call it the Battle of the Thousand Hungry Ronin!’ said White Beard.” Now Hiro made his voice high and scratchy.
“’And why is that?”’ asked Kensei.” With a devious giggle, Hiro grabbed a bag of plastic ninja figures from its spot on the console and upended it over the two samurais. “Ahhhhh! Oh the pain, the unspeakable cannibal--!”
An urgent beeping from the nav panel interrupted Hiro, and he immediately swept aside the plastic soldiers to view the radar display. On the blue-lit disk, a dark spot was approaching rapidly.
“Gos se,” Hiro muttered. He grabbed the comm transmitter from its hook above him. “Captain! We’ve got company! Alliance cruiser!”
Through the com he heard Kimiko whisper, “Gou shi.”
Then Nathan’s voice came though loud and clear. “Hiro, shut her down. Everything but the air. They might not have seen us.”
Hiro slammed his palm down on the ship’s paging system. “Claire, take us dark. We’re being buzzed.” Then he flipped all the switches on top of the nav console, plunging the bridge into darkness. After a few seconds, he heard the engine cut out and knew that Claire had done her job in the engine room.
On the tiny radar display, Hiro watched the looming mass of the Alliance cruiser drift closer. “Shoo,” he whispered at it. “Kwai jio kai.”
--
Nathan watched the Alliance cruiser drift into view. The thing was huge; it looked like a giant floating city. He’d always hated the way the Alliance designed things: big and square and looking like they wanted to own every damn thing in the ‘verse. On either side of him, Kimiko and Elle held very still. The oxygen cycling through Nathan’s helmet sounded unbearably loud in the otherwise dead silence.
Then, over the comm, he heard an urgent beeping. “Captain, we’re being scanned,” Hiro said.
“We’re coming to you, Hiro. Give them something else to think about,” Nathan said. His heart was pounding in his chest. “Elle, Kimi, let’s move like we’ve got a purpose. Grab the cargo.”
They sprang into action. Kimiko unclipped the safety line from the derelict and Elle pulled the cargo crate out of the hatch. In less than ten seconds, the three of them were on their way back to the ship.
--
“Cry baby cry,” Hiro said. He pressed a button on the side of the nav panel, and knew that somewhere in the orbit of a nearby moon, a jury-rigged beacon had begun sending out a distress call that would, to any casual scan, appear to come from a damaged transport ship. Hopefully that would look more urgent to the Alliance than chasing a small-potatoes illegal salvage operation.
“Claire, fire her back up,” he called over the page system. “We need to get out of here fast.”
The ship grumbled to life, and Hiro ran a hand fondly over the console. “Just give us a sec. Let the others get back.”
The rear port doors were closing with a whine that Hiro could hear all the way on the bridge. As soon as the “thunk” of the door sealing had echoed through the ship, Nathan’s voice came over the com, “We’re on. Get us out of here, Hiro.”
--
As soon as Nathan had stripped out of his walk suit, he and Elle pulled the crate into the cargo bay. The damn thing was a lot heavier now than it had been out in the weightless black.
Hiro came traipsing down the stairs into the bay, a wide smile on his face. “They’re not coming after us. You get the goods?”
“Of course,” said Elle. “Open it.”
Nathan knelt next to the crate. Elle and Hiro crowded around him as he pulled it open. Inside, the goods were intact: row after row of rich-colored bars. He picked one out of the top layer and hefted it; it was heavy as lead.
“That’s what I’m talking about,” Elle said. She punched Hiro affectionately in the arm, and he flinched away in pain. “Goods that can get us paid. Hey Kimi, come look,” she called up to Kimiko, who was busy stowing the equipment they’d used on the walk.
Nathan took advantage of her distraction to flip over the bar. He repressed the urge to curse when he saw the Alliance seal stamped into the bottom of the bar. If this one was stamped, they all were. Nathan quickly slid the bar back into its place and slammed the crate shut.
“Hiro, get us to Persephone quick as you can,” Nathan said briskly. “I want to get this load off my boat.”
“Can’t go too fast, Captain. We burn fuel cells too hard, they’re going to run out before we make it to the core.”
“That’s no lying, Captain,” Claire said from the doorway. She finished wiping her hands with a rag before shoving the dirty cloth into a pocket of her coveralls. “Engine’s working hard enough to get what it can out of them.”
Nathan gritted his teeth in frustration. “Well then cut it as close as you can,” he told Hiro. “Elle, let’s get this stowed. Wouldn’t want any tourists stumbling over it.”
“Tourists?” Claire asked eagerly. “Are we taking on passengers?”
“If we can find some paying ones on Persephone, then yes.” Nathan set to work opening up the secret compartment along the wall of the cargo bay that he used to store illegitimate cargo.
“That’s shiny,” Claire said. She took a seat on the stairs next to where Nathan was working. “I can’t wait.”
Elle rolled her eyes and dragged the crate toward its cubbyhole. “Captain, can you please stop her being so cheerful?”
Nathan looked at Claire, whose smile was a mile wide, and then back at Elle. “No,” he said shortly, and returned to packing away the cargo. “No power in the ‘verse can stop her.”
“Don’t be grumpy, Elle.” Claire threw her arms around her and planted a kiss on her cheek. “It’s always nice to meet new friends.”
Elle just glared.
--
Hiro punched in the course for Persephone in silence, waiting for his sister to speak. Kimiko was hovering on the bridge, silently pacing.
“Something’s not right,” she said eventually. “Captain seems jittery.”
Hiro shrugged. “Business has been bad,” he offered.
Kimiko shook her head. “It’s more than that. Something about this job. I think-.” She cut herself off abruptly as Nathan came clattering up the stairs to the bridge.
“How long until we get there?” he asked Hiro.
“Four hours, at this speed.”
“Hm,” Nathan frowned. Kimiko gave Hiro a significant look.
“How’s that put us with the ambassador’s schedule?” Nathan asked.
Hiro “She should be able to meet us at the docks after we touch down. Why, you want me to call and tell her to cut it short?”
“No no. Not at all. Someone around here has to make an honest living.”
--
Author’s note: Okay, so Heidi was supposed to be Inara here. I went through a lot of Inara incarnations, including one pretty hilarious one that you’ll get a glimpse of later. But I couldn’t ever bring myself to write the backstory scene about that character. So it’s not here. I know it’s important to the plot. But I didn’t write it. Sorry.
--
The moment the cargo ramp touched down, Nathan was assaulted by the sights and smells of the Eavsdown Docks. His crew spread out beside him, turning their faces to the sun.
“Claire, book us some passengers,” he said. Then amended, “Paying passengers this time, please.”
“Hey, the Hererras were real nice folks.”
“Yeah, real nice eating us out of house and home and crying all the time. Credits are what we need, little Claire.”
“Yes Captain,” she said grudgingly. Then she plucked at his sleeve. “I sure would like to find us a new compression coil before we head back out.”
“Yeah, and I’d like to be the kind of all Londinium and wear a shiny hat. Just get us passengers, Claire.”
Hiro pulled out of the ramp on the mule, its four broad tires kicking up the dust on the ground, and Nathan turned to issue his orders.
“Hiro. Get us fuelled up, and take on whatever supplies are needful. Only what’s needful. We got no credits to spare right now. We’ll meet up after.” Nathan headed off across the docks, Elle at his side, and Kimiko following.
“Kimi,” Hiro called after his sister. She stopped and looked back. “Joo ta ma ya ming.”
“We will.”
--
Claude Rains pushed up the side of the girl’s lip to look at her teeth. Not too straight, but they weren’t rotting, either. “Good enough,” he said. The guard holding the girl’s arm pulled her away and steered her toward the exit as another guard led a new group into the room: Captain Nathan Petrelli and his merry men. Or women, as the case was.
Claude strolled back to his desk. He loved having Petrelli come in here to his little corner of the world. It wasn’t much more than a set of tents pitched against the back of one of Eavsdown Docks’ freight warehouses and gussied up with some civilized accoutrements, but it was Claude’s place of business, and he loved that a man like Petrelli came here hat in hand like a beggar. “You’re late,” he said.
Petrelli took a stand in front of Claude’s desk. He seemed relaxed, casual, but Claude wasn’t fooled. “Are we now?” he asked. He looked at Kimiko, who shrugged politely. “Seems to me we’re here a good two hours early. Means you’re looking to put us on the defensive. Nothing went wrong on our end, so that gets me to wondering what made you so tetchy.”
“Well, Captain.” Claude leaned back in his chair and propped his feet up among the detritus that cluttered his desk. “I’m a businessman. Got places to be. My time’s very valuable, see?”
“Then we’ve got that in common. Just give us what we’re owed for our work, and we’ll be on our way.”
Claude shook his head. “That the problem with you disreputable types. Always in too much of a hurry to do things the civilized way. And it seems to me, that might come back to bite you in the arse. If, for instance, you didn’t check to see if the goods you were about to sell me was stamped Alliance goods.”
Nathan could feel Kimiko glaring hot blazes at him, but he ignored her. “We did the job you send us on. Didn’t make no mind to me what kind of goods you wanted retrieved.”
“Seems to me you were looking to pull one over on old Claude,” he said, his smile widening as Nathan’s posture grew more rigid. “Sell me stamped goods and then leave me to twist, that right? Well I’m not in the market to be bushwhacked today, friend. Guess you’ll have to try your luck elsewhere.”
“That ain’t fair,” Elle piped up. “We did the job, and now I aim to get paid.” She reached for the gun in the holster on her hip, and suddenly the room was bristling with weapons as Claude’s men drew their guns and aimed them at Nathan and his crew. With a frustrated huff, Elle shoved her pistol back into its holster and crossed her arms over her chest.
“If you hurry, you might get a chance to carry your little cargo out of here before someone tells the Alliance you’ve got pirated goods onboard.” Claude leaned further back in his chair and basked in the glow of Nathan’s frustration.
“World never stops turning, Claude,” Nathan said.
“That only matters to the people on the rim.”
--
Bennet pulled his cart along, in no hurry to threat through the throng milling around the docks. A settler family passed him, each of them from the burly father to the youngest child laboring under a heavy pack of supplies, all corresponding to size. Bennet paused for a moment to avoid tripping over the half-dozen goats that trailed on a string tied to the hand of the youngest child.
As he continued his stroll, he ran an appraising eye over the ships hunkered down on the docking pads. In this part of the city, one hardly expected the ships to be beautiful, but some of these looked barely held together. Long experience had given Bennet a preference for ships that wouldn’t leave their passengers on the drift.
“You’re coming with us.” A sweet voice cut through the bustling sounds of the docks.
Bennet turned to locate the source and saw a young woman sitting in a folding chair on the loading ramp of a Firefly transport. She twirled her multi-colored paper parasol as she smiled at him.
“Beg pardon?” he said.
“You’re coming with us. I can tell. I ain’t seen you look at any destinations; you’ve been looking at ships.” She gestured to the looming vessel at her back. “And mine’s the nicest.”
“Is that a fact?” Bennet pushed his glasses further onto his nose and looked the ship up and down. It wasn’t shiny-new, but it certainly didn’t look damaged or neglected the way some of the other ships around here did. “Not too fancy,” he observed.
“Maybe,” the girl said, and reached out to pat the ship’s hull fondly. “But she flies true. How come you don’t care where you’re going?”
Bennet smiled, and hoped the girl couldn’t see the pain in it. “I’ve been out of the world awhile. Figured I’d walk it a spell. It was time to get out of the abbey.”
“Are you a missionary?”
“I suppose you could say that. Noah.” He extended a hand, which she shook warmly.
“I’m Claire.” She waved her hand again at the ship. “This is Serenity. And she’s the smoothest ride to Boros for those that can pay. Can you…pay… Or?” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.
Bennet liked her. She had a sweet way about her, and she wasn’t talking nonsense; Noah could always tell when a body was talking nonsense. “I’ve got some credits,” he said. “And, there’s this.” He took a box off the top of his luggage and opened it to show Claire the contents.
Her eyes got very wide. “Ooo Daddy,” she breathed.
Bennet smiled. “I never married.”
--
Nathan stormed through the docks, heedless of the crowd and the mess around him. His mind was racing; he had to figure out what to do so that his crew wouldn’t be let down.
“Great,” Elle shouted, just behind him. “This is just great. Now what do you aim to do with this cargo?”
“We’ll go to Whitefall,” Nathan said. “Sandra’ll buy it.”
“I don’t like dealing with Sandra, sir,” Kimiko cut in.
“Why not?”
“She shot you.”
“Yeah, she did a bit,” Nathan shrugged.
“What about Devaux?” she suggested.
“He’s dead.”
“Sprague?”
“Can’t afford it.”
“What about Monroe? We could go to Otsu.”
“Didn’t you hear?” Nathan lowered his voice. “Reavers hit ‘em. Whole town’s gone.”
“I’m not going near any gorram Reavers,” Elle piped up.
“Thompson,” Kimiko said.
“Wouldn’t touch it with a ten foot pole. You want me to go down the list?” Nathan asked. Kimiko didn’t reply. “Sandra’s close, and she’s our best bet.”
“There’s another alternative, sir.” Kimiko swung to a stop at the side of a dog-meat stand. “Dump the cargo.”
“What?” Elle turned to Nathan, eying him suspiciously to see how he had taken the suggestion. “I didn’t sign onto this crew just to stand around and look pretty. I am to get paid.”
“It isn’t worth getting shot over,” Kimiko told Nathan.
“Kimi...” Nathan lowered his voice below the level of the crowd around them. “We don’t get paid for this, we ain’t got the credits to fuel the ship. We’re drifting.
Kimiko looked away, squinting into the setting sun beyond the shacks and tens of Eavsdown. She was always one to keep Nathan from doing anything crazy, but she was a smart business woman, too. She understood why they couldn’t afford to walk away. “Then we go to Sandra,” she said. “And we go prepared.”
Grim-faced, the three trooped back to the ship, where Claire was ushering some strangers aboard: passengers, presumably.
“That the lot of them?” Nathan asked.
“Yes sir. Three paying passengers,” Claire said.
Nathan nodded. “Good work, Claire. That’s some coin, at least.” He threw a last disgusted look at the docks before heading inside.
As the ramp started to close, Claire grabbed her chair and parasol and took one last look out at the docks. “All aboard.”
--
Author’s note: Then we skip a bit, because I didn’t write this part. I did, however, write about four versions of this next scene. For those of you who don’t know what’s going on, one of the new passengers in Serenity sent a message to the Alliance. Oh noes! The crew suspects Mohinder (who is playing the role of Simon, tonight), who has been acting all shifty, plus has a highly suspicious large box in the cargo bay of which he is overprotective. Everyone charges into the cargo bay to find out what’s in the box. Nathan kicks it open, and…
--
“What in the go-se is that?” Elle demanded.
“Looks like a boy in a box,” said Hiro.
“I can explain. Please, I need to check his vitals.” Mohinder struggled in Kimiko’s grip. Her mouth pressed into a grim line, and she yanked him back sharply. “He wasn’t supposed to come out of cryo for another two weeks.”
Nathan turned away from the box to snap at Mohinder. “Just in time to see he’s been sold to some border moon brothel. Or was this one for you?”
A scream prevented any reply. Nathan jumped back as the man in the box bolted upright. He wasn’t much more than a boy; he was painfully skinny and pale, and his eyes held a haunted look behind a dark curtain of damp bangs. His scream was shrill, more animal that human, and his eyes darted around the cargo hold without seeing anyone. He scrambled out of the box, and everyone except jumped back a step as he tumbled to the floor. Nathan stood statue-still, staring at the naked waif.
“Peter!” Mohinder tried again to pull free, and his time Kimiko let him go.
The man huddled against the side of the cryo chamber, hugging his knees to his chest and shaking. “It’s okay,” Mohinder said softly. “You’re safe.”
Moving slowly and smoothly, Mohinder rested his hands on Peter’s shoulders. “It’s Mohinder.”
“What the guay do is wrong with him?”
Peter cowered at the harsh noise of Elle’s voice. Mohinder ran a gentle hand through his hair. “Shhh. No one’s going to hurt you here.”
“He’s terrified. What you have been doing to him?” Bennet demanded. He shrugged off the black jacket that fit over his cassock and knelt beside Peter to wrap him in it.
“Please, it’s not…” Mohinder put out a hand to forestall him. “He’s my patient.”
“He’s got a disease?” Elle stepped away and reached for her sidearm. “You brought some sort of a plague-infested wei xian dong wu onto our boat?”
“No, it’s not that!”
“You some kind of wacky mad scientist?” Hiro asked.
Kimiko looked to Nathan, who was simply staring, transfixed, at where Peter crouched, cowering, between Mohinder and the box. “Captain?” she prompted.
All eyes turned to Nathan.
He shook himself out of his daze. “Take him to the infirmary, doctor. Then I see a need for you and I to have a conversation.”
--
Author’s note: Skip a bit again. In case you need help following the plot, an Alliance ship arrives, the Alliance spy in their midst (Matt Parkman, by the way, but I didn’t get around to writing any scenes with him in them) announces that they have to hand over the fugitives they’re harboring (i.e. Mohinder and his boy-in-a-box), or bad things will happen. Matt gets twitchy, however, and accidently shoots Claire when she runs in to see what’s going on. Matt orders Nathan to power down the ship and wait to be boarded by the Alliance. And then…
--
“No no no no.” Mohinder stood and backed away from where Claire was bleeding her life out onto the floor. “Run. We have to run.”
“We’re not going anywhere until she’s okay,” Nathan snapped.
Mohinder took another step back. “You’ve seen stomach wounds before?”
During the war, Nathan had seen a corporal who’d been sliced across the belly by flying shrapnel, seen the red and brown mess of his insides and listened to him beg for Nathan to save him. The same thing was not going to happen to Claire. “I’ve seen ‘em.”
“Then you know how important these next few minutes will be. Run, and I’ll do everything in my power to help her. Let the feds take this ship, and she dies.”
It was no decision at all, and there was hate in Nathan’s eyes when he nodded. “Fine. Do it.”
Kimiko hit the wall comm. “Hiro, fire it up. We’re running.”
With a curt nod, Mohinder stepped forward and went to work.
--
Nathan ran his finger along Claire’s cheek, frowning at how pale she was. It wasn’t right. His crew wasn’t supposed to get hurt. He wasn’t supposed to let anything happen to them. “It’s okay, Claire. You’re going to be okay.” He patted her hand.
“Where is this?”
Nathan started, and his hand was halfway to his gun before he realized that it was the boy-the man- who’d spoken, Peter. The sedative must have worn off. He was clutching a blanket to his chest and looking around with wild eyes.
“Oh. You’re… awake,” Nathan said. Now that he could see the man’s eyes, he looked even more achingly familiar.
“Where’s Mohinder?” the man asked.
“The doctor? He’s around. You weren’t supposed to be up.” Nathan took a step back. “You just sit there nice and quiet like and wait for the doctor to give you another shot.”
“No!” He grabbed Nathan’s arm, and his grip was surprisingly tight. “No more shots!”
There was something so familiar about the pleading way he looked at Nathan. It spoke to something long buried, some force long dormant. “Peter…” He would have been about the same age, now, his brother, if he’d lived. “Are you-?”
“She’s awake,” Peter said abruptly, and raised a hand to point behind Nathan.
“Claire?” He turned, and sure enough, Claire’s eyes were flickering open.
“Hey Captain.”
“How you feeling?”
“Fine. Just shiny. Mohinder patched me up real nice.”
“Man knows his stuff.” Didn’t mean Nathan didn’t want to shove him out the airlock.
“Not his fault. It was nobody’s fault,” she said. She reached out for Nathan’s hand and squeezed it. “Right, Peter?”
“Mohinder’s a good man,” Peter said seriously. “Not a villain.”
“See?” Claire said, patting Nathan’s hand. “You just gotta have faith in people.”
--
Author’s note: And there we end this section. Yes, there was going to be exciting self-discovery and smexing between the brothers Petrelli. But (and now you’re sick of hearing this) I didn’t write that part. So…I told you that I couldn’t decide who to put in the box. Because for a while, it was Sylar. Here’s one scene where Sylar was the one Mohinder had rescued.
--
Mohinder gripped the back of one of the galley chairs nervously. He longed to be back in the infirmary, watching over Gabriel. He should still be asleep after the sedative, but there was no telling if something unexpected might crop up due to the interrupted cryo-sleep. Mohinder longed to be anywhere other than here in the galley, under the staring, hostile eyes of Serenity’s crew. Well, almost anywhere. Not in an Alliance brig. Not sucked out into the black, where his blood would boil and his heart burst, although Mohinder could tell that’s what some of the crew wanted to do to him, and maybe to Gabriel. Mohinder steeled himself. He couldn’t let anything else happen to Gabriel. He had to make them understand.
With all of Serenity’s crew watching him closely, he stood up and tried to explain. “I’ve been working with specials for a long time. My father pioneered the protocols for deactivating powers, and everything he knew he passed on to me. Right out of school I became the chief medical officer at a facility on Osiris that deals with exceptional young people: those who for some reason or another resist the vaccine that eliminates such abnormalities. I followed in my father’s footsteps, finding ways to manipulate the genetic code to alter or contain these mutations. My work was ground-breaking, and I was one of the brightest in my field. I tell you this so that you’ll understand what I mean when I tell you that Gabriel is… truly special.
“He was part of a genetic research project to help us understand the patterns of the godsend gene. Then… I was approached by an organization that wanted to find out more about the abilities themselves: how they work, what they can do. They asked me to recommend some patients from my research. Gabriel was one of those patients. Every test they invented, he passed with flying colors. The things he could do were amazing, and every day it was something new. Once he-.” Mohinder began to chuckle at the memory of one of Gabriel’s brighter days, until he caught sight of Serenity’s crew, staring at him, stone-faced. He sobered up immediately. This was going to be harder than he thought.
--
Author’s note Okay. Then I started writing “The Train Job” with a few changes in casting: this is one of the few surviving scenes in which Adam is playing the second-in-command. Be warned: these pieces are much more snippet-y than the previous stuff.
--
Linderman stood at the counter, chopping up a zucchini with expert skill. The galley was large, but in contrast to Serenity’s coziness, this place seemed dim and rusty, almost industrial. The only spot of color was the spread of fresh vegetables on the counter. Nathan hadn’t seen such a bounty in… Well, he couldn’t rightfully remember.
Nathan waited patiently while Linderman worked. Beside him, Adam stood at the ready, all coiled power under a calm façade.
“So, Captain Petrelli,” Linderman said amicably as he sliced vegetables. “Do you like pot pie?”
“I’ve been known to enjoy a savory pastry or two from time to time,” Nathan said.
“Good, good.” Linderman wiped his hands on the apron tied around his waist, and turned to regard Nathan and Adam. “I’ve heard a lot about you, captain. You and your crew. You’re supposed to be hard workers.”
Nathan nodded. “We do the job, we get pain. I heart you had a job needs doing.”
“Have you ever worked the train before?” Linderman asked.
“Sure,” Nathan lied. “Couple of times.”
--
Author’s note: Now we’ve changed casts again, but are still pursuing the same plot. Nathan is out on Linderman’s train job with his second-in-command (here played by Niki). Those left behind are having a little conversation.
--
Bennet flipped another page in his Bible and idly scanned the next passage. He knew he wasn’t giving the text the attention it deserved, but it was difficult to focus. Somewhere on this dusty world, the captain of this ship and his band of miscreants were engaging in some shady dealings. And Bennet was left with nothing to do but wait.
Soft footfalls echoed in the corridor, and Bennet stopped himself from reaching for a gun he no longer carried. Instead, he gripped his Bible with both hands, and waited.
Peter Petrelli appeared in the doorway, looking elegant as always in tailored pants and a deep blue silk shirt. He hesitated at the threshold when he saw Bennet. He wasn’t in the mood to deal with a shepherd railing at him about the wickedness of his ways, but he schooled his expression into a polite mask and said, “I’ll be out of your way in a moment.”
Peter went directly to the small galley and began assembling a light brunch from the protein cubes in the bins. He was aware of Bennet watching his every move, aware of the jingle of his bracelets breaking the silence, but he refused to let the man’s scrutiny unnerve him. After a moment, Bennet spoke. “How do you think it’s going?”
“The caper?” Peter smiled. So this passenger, at least, had no illusions about the business of this ship’s crew. “Nathan knows what he’s doing. They’ll be back in no time.” He hit the switch on the counter to set hot water boiling so he could make tea, and turned to address Bennet. “Why the sudden interest?”
Bennet ignored that question. “Don’t you worry about your brother?”
“Constantly,” he said. And that was no more than the truth.
Bennet fiddled with his Bible. “I just wish there was something I could do to help.”
Peter raised an eyebrow at him.
“Not with the crime, I mean,” Bennet said quickly.
Peter cracked a smile. “You could pray.”
“I somehow don’t think the captain would appreciate that.”
“Just don’t tell him.” The tea kettle whistled, and Peter turned back to take it off the stove. “I never do.”
--
Author’s note: After helping the crew snag the payload from a train, Niki and Nathan get caught up in a mining town while the local sheriff investigates the theft. Meanwhile, the crew has gathered on the bridge to talk about the next step. Elle wants to take the goods to the crazy man that hired them.
--
“Fire her up. Now,” Elle growled.
“I am not leaving without Niki,” D.L. said, crossing his arms over his chest.
“You’ll do what I gorram say,” Elle snarled. “You know what the chain of command is? It's the chain I go get and beat you with 'til ya understand who's in ruttin' command here. Now fire it up…” She grabbed onto the back of D.L.’s chair, swaying a little.
“This is madness,” said Bennet.
“Elle, I think you should sit down,” Mohinder said mildly.
She waved him off. “We gotta get this finished. And then maybe, maybe we'll come back for those morons who got themselves caught. You can't change that by getting all... bendy.”
D.L. squinted at her. “All what?”
“You shouldn’t do… Straight lines…” Elle frowned and poked at the thin air in front of D.L. “Before we shine… It’s all sparkly.” Then she fell forward hard, landing with a hollow thud on the floor of the bridge.
“Did Elle just go crazy and fall asleep?” D.L. asked.
“I… I gave her something to put her to sleep,” Mohinder admitted. “Actually, it was meant to take effect sooner. I hope you don’t mind.”
“Not at all,” said D.L.
“So what are we going to do?” Peter asked. “Linderman is waiting.”
“We can’t just waltz into Paradiso and bust them out,” D.L. pointed out.
“Well…Someone respectable enough might be able to,” Bennet said thoughtfully.
--
Peter swooped into the Paradiso train station like an exotic nightingale into a cage full of chickens. Nathan stares as much as any of the locals as Peter glided across the dirty floor. His outfit certainly announced his status; we wore a white silk shirt, open at the throat, a black jacket and pants tailored to show off the best of his assets, and colorful bracelets that jingled like a rim-world carnival. But even more than that, the way Peter held himself set him apart; he managed to be both aloof and alluring, causing the good people of Paradiso to bend toward him even as they shrunk back in awe.
Peter easily cut a path through the crowd. Nathan stood to meet him, to give him a few choice words about how kuang zhe de it was to expose himself to a situation like this, but as soon as Peter was within a few feet, he drew his hand back and slapped Nathan across the face.
“Sherrif, I want this man bound by law. That is,” he said, smiling at his own wit, “Assuming he hasn’t been already.”
“Nooo,” Parkman drawled. “Not as yet. His story did seem a mite…unlikely.”
A surge of whispers drew the sheriff’s attention, and he turned to see every townsperson in the station straining for a look at the Companion. Peter lowered his eyes demurely, and Parkman stammered, “Beg your pardon, Mister Petrelli. I don’t think a one of them has ever seen a real Companion before.” Not that Parkman had either, but he didn’t want to seem like a yokel in front of the Companion.
Peter favored him with a soft smile. “Well thank you for holding them. Nathan is my indentured man; he has three years left on his contract.” He turned to Nathan. “Did you honestly think you could escape your duties so easily?”
“No…Sir.” Nathan had to work to keep a smirk from turning up the corners of his mouth.
“And Niki. What would your husband say if he knew you were here?”
“I was weak,” Niki said, deadpan.
“Do you need to hold them much longer?” Peter asked, turning back to the Sheriff. “I’d like to get back to my ship.”
“Right. Of course. I think we’ve got all we need. If you’d just…” He took a datapad from his deputy and handed it over to the Companion to sign.
Peter scrawled his name in slender, elegant letters that matched the rest of him. “Come,” he said, and snapped his fingers. He strode out of the station and his two charges fell in line behind him.
“His papers checked out?” Parkman asked as he watched his best lead walk out of the station door into the dusty sunlight.
“Yep,” Audrey said. “Ran ‘em twice.”
“Well. Let’s get back to work.”
--
Author’s note: That’s it! That’s all she wrote! I love me some Firefly, but this was just never going to make it to full-fledged-finished-fic status, so I hope you enjoyed a peek at the cutting room floor.
Rating: PG-13 (no, really!)
Character, Pairing: Ensemble. No actual relationships developed, although there was Nathan/Peter, Mohinder/Sylar, and Elle/anything that moves planned for this.
Disclaimer: Firefly belongs to Joss, Heroes belongs to Tim. I know I’ve used verbatim lines from the Firefly pilot, but I couldn’t not do it. Don’t sue me.
Author’s notes: This is a Firefly/Heroes fusion fic (Heroes characters in the Firefly ‘verse, no Firefly characters). I meant to write this for the 2008 Heroes Big Boom, but I was never really happy with it. This was HARD! But I got quite a bit written, so I thought ya’ll should enjoy the fruits of the universe that will never be. I put the biggest chunk together up front, and then I included some little snippets from scenes I wrote with alternative “casting.” Because I couldn’t decide who should be in the box. Seriously. If you haven’t seen Firefly, I’m not sure how much sense this will make, since there are a few chunks of plot missing, not to mention no ending at all. Also, I’m going to pepper this with notes as I go, between scenes, because otherwise it won’t make a damn bit of sense. So I make no claim to this being a good/complete story. I just thought ya’ll might be interested in seeing a little never-to-be-finished symphony.
Summary: The job should be simple: get a ship, get a crew, keep flying. But for Captain Nathan Petrelli, nothing ever goes smooth. When a job goes south and he has to take on some shady passengers all of his crew, and the life he’s built since the war, are endangered.
Mortars exploded over Serenity Valley. Night and smoke made visibility terrible, but occasionally the flash of an explosion lit up a section of the tunnel-ridden hills, illuminating a small group of soldiers crouched here or there among the rocks. Shouting and the rattle of big guns filled the valley. Sergeant Nathan Petrelli charged up the hill on a trail that was little more than a goat track leading to an entrenched cave. He threw himself flat in the dirt at the cave’s mouth just as an Alliance plane buzzed overhead, firing to obliterate the path he’d just followed. He spared a quick glance for the crater that marked where he’d been standing a minute before and made the sign of the cross before picking himself up and ducking into the cave.
“Rosen, where’s my air support?” he called to the tall young man hunched over the field radio.
Private First Class West Rosen looked up at Nathan with frightened eyes. “They won’t move without a lieutenant’s authorization code.”
A woman slid into th=0’e mouth of the cave and flattened her back against the wall next to Nathan. Kimiko’s dark hair was disheveled, and her face was streaked with dirt where the dust of the valley mixed with sweat. “Sir, we need to do something about those big guns. We’re pinned down here like bugs.”
Nathan nodded. He went further into the cave, eyes searching the bodies that lined the walls until he found the one he was looking for. He reached down and ripped the patch off the dead man’s uniform. Then he jogged back over to Private Rosen and pressed it into his hands. “Congratulations, you’re a lieutenant,” he said. “Now get me some air support.”
Nathan returned to where his second in command was pressed against the cave wall, peering out at the chaos. She said, “There’s at least one of the plasma cannons between us and where they’re shooting. Why don’t-?”
“Cover me,” Nathan interrupted. “We’ll kill two birds with one stone.”
He darted out into the line of fire, and Kimiko swore under her breath. “Rosen, I’m going after him. Watch our backs.” Rosen was crouched next to the radio, staring at her blankly. “Rosen!” He didn’t react. “West!” Nothing. “Damnit.” She darted out of the cave after her leader.
Nathan dodged and weaved his way down the side of the hill. He slid to a dusty stop behind a pile of rocks. When he turned, he saw Kimiko planting her rifle against her shoulder and dropping a purple-bellied Alliance grunt as he came around an outcropping next to Nathan. With a nod of thanks, Nathan used his teeth to pull the pin out of a grenade, and lobbed it up into the nest where the plasma cannon sat surrounded by sandbags.
He pressed his hands to his ears, waiting, and soon enough he was rewarded with a tremendous boom, a smattering of screams, and a shower of dust and shale. He scrambled out from under cover and climbed up into the nest. The bodies of two Alliance men lay broken on the ground, and Nathan spared them a grim nod as he stepped up to the plasma cannon. He said a quick Hail Mary under his breath, then hit the switch to fire her up. With a whine, she came to life. Hallelujah-she wasn’t damaged.
Nathan slung his gun over his shoulder and grabbed hold of the cannon, pointing it up to the night sky where a squad of small Alliance planes was tear-assing across the valley. Just before one of the bastards entered his sights, he fired. The cannon kicked back against his shoulders, and fire flared from the side of the plane.
“Waaaahaaa!” Nathan called, stepping back to pump a fist into the air in triumph. As he watched, the plane lost altitude, dropping closer to the valley… And directly toward him. “Shit.” He ran, vaulting out of the nest and throwing himself to the ground just as the falling plane crashed into the nest.
“Sir!”
Nathan’s head snapped up to see Kimiko firing again, just over his head. He felt a body hit the dirt a few feet away.
“We need to get back under cover!” she shouted.
Nathan pushed himself off the ground and weaved his way back to the cave, where he dropped to the ground and took a moment to brush the grit out of his eyes. Kimiko followed right behind, slumping down next to him and breathing hard. “There’s got to be six squads out there,” she said softly.
“We’re going to die.” Rosen stared at them from where he was still huddled next to the radio. “We’re trapped like rats in a maze. They’re going to blow us all away.”
“No, no no.” Nathan went over to kneel next to the private and grab him by the shoulder. “We’re not going to die. Not now. The Alliance said they were just going to waltz through Serenity Valley, and we made them eat those words today. We’ve done the impossible, and that makes us mighty.” He looked back at Kimiko. She gave him a grim nod and moved over to the radio where she pried the lieutenant’s patch out of the private’s hands and took up the radio as Nathan pulled Rosen over to the cave’s entrance.
“Just hold yourself together,” Nathan told him. “Soon as we get some planes in here, Alliance will be running scared. This is the turning point of this war; you’ll see. We’re not going to die. You know why?” He brushed dust off his shoulders before doing the same to Rosen’s uniform. “Because we are too damn pretty to die.”
Outside, a distant rumble began to shake the valley. Nathan’s heart soared as he heard it. “That’s angels! That’s salvation, boy. Right there.” Nathan stood up to look out of the mouth of the cave.
Instead of the sleek, lithe lines of Independent fighters, the bulky, towering bulk of Alliance heavy cruisers marred the sky. Rosen stood up beside him to look. Nathan barely heard the bullet hit him, barely registered the body as it dropped back onto the cave floor.
Behind him, Kimiko lowered the radio receiver. “They say it’s too hot, sir. They’re not coming.”
Nathan stared out into the night at the Alliance ships, bombs laying a blanket of fire over the valley.
--
Note: Zoe (played by Kimiko, here), was probably the hardest character to cast. If I’d seen season three, I probably would have cast Daphne. But it needed to be someone who had a special relationship with Hiro (because no one else but Hiro would have played Wash), and Niki didn’t fit that bill. There were drafts of this in which Adam was Zoe. And that was pretty good. But I can to the conclusion eventually that Zoe just had to be a woman. Even though I never really thought she had the appropriate amount of sass. Sorry, Adam.
--
Six years later
Nathan kept his eyes trained on the derelict in front of him. It wasn’t much to look at, certainly not compared to his own ship, which even now stood sentinel off beyond the wreckage, but there was something here worth having, if his sources were right. Nathan could feel the pressure of the black pushing in on him, calling to him from all around, but he was isolated from it by the tough skin of his walk suit and by his crew crowded in on either side of him.
On his right, Kimiko grabbed hold of a handle on the outside of the ship’s hull and clipped a cable on so they wouldn’t float away while they worked.
On his left, Elle planted her feet on either side of the cargo hatch and took careful aim with the plasma cutter. It sliced into the metal skin of the ship like butter, and Elle cackled into her intercom, “Burn baby burn.” She cut a careful square around the hatch’s handle. When the glowing red lines of melted metal met, the square popped out with a hiss of pressurized air.
“Seal’s good,” Nathan said.
Kimiko gave a satisfied nod. “Load must be intact.”
“Let’s get what we came for.”
--
Hiro held one samurai action figure in each hand, walking them across the navigation panel. He stopped them at the far edge so they were looking out over the bridge.
“And Kensei Takezo said, ‘This land is green and fertile.’” Hiro gestured over the bridge with the action figure. “’I will rule over all Japan, and I will call it… Japan.’”
“I think we should call it the Battle of the Thousand Hungry Ronin!’ said White Beard.” Now Hiro made his voice high and scratchy.
“’And why is that?”’ asked Kensei.” With a devious giggle, Hiro grabbed a bag of plastic ninja figures from its spot on the console and upended it over the two samurais. “Ahhhhh! Oh the pain, the unspeakable cannibal--!”
An urgent beeping from the nav panel interrupted Hiro, and he immediately swept aside the plastic soldiers to view the radar display. On the blue-lit disk, a dark spot was approaching rapidly.
“Gos se,” Hiro muttered. He grabbed the comm transmitter from its hook above him. “Captain! We’ve got company! Alliance cruiser!”
Through the com he heard Kimiko whisper, “Gou shi.”
Then Nathan’s voice came though loud and clear. “Hiro, shut her down. Everything but the air. They might not have seen us.”
Hiro slammed his palm down on the ship’s paging system. “Claire, take us dark. We’re being buzzed.” Then he flipped all the switches on top of the nav console, plunging the bridge into darkness. After a few seconds, he heard the engine cut out and knew that Claire had done her job in the engine room.
On the tiny radar display, Hiro watched the looming mass of the Alliance cruiser drift closer. “Shoo,” he whispered at it. “Kwai jio kai.”
--
Nathan watched the Alliance cruiser drift into view. The thing was huge; it looked like a giant floating city. He’d always hated the way the Alliance designed things: big and square and looking like they wanted to own every damn thing in the ‘verse. On either side of him, Kimiko and Elle held very still. The oxygen cycling through Nathan’s helmet sounded unbearably loud in the otherwise dead silence.
Then, over the comm, he heard an urgent beeping. “Captain, we’re being scanned,” Hiro said.
“We’re coming to you, Hiro. Give them something else to think about,” Nathan said. His heart was pounding in his chest. “Elle, Kimi, let’s move like we’ve got a purpose. Grab the cargo.”
They sprang into action. Kimiko unclipped the safety line from the derelict and Elle pulled the cargo crate out of the hatch. In less than ten seconds, the three of them were on their way back to the ship.
--
“Cry baby cry,” Hiro said. He pressed a button on the side of the nav panel, and knew that somewhere in the orbit of a nearby moon, a jury-rigged beacon had begun sending out a distress call that would, to any casual scan, appear to come from a damaged transport ship. Hopefully that would look more urgent to the Alliance than chasing a small-potatoes illegal salvage operation.
“Claire, fire her back up,” he called over the page system. “We need to get out of here fast.”
The ship grumbled to life, and Hiro ran a hand fondly over the console. “Just give us a sec. Let the others get back.”
The rear port doors were closing with a whine that Hiro could hear all the way on the bridge. As soon as the “thunk” of the door sealing had echoed through the ship, Nathan’s voice came over the com, “We’re on. Get us out of here, Hiro.”
--
As soon as Nathan had stripped out of his walk suit, he and Elle pulled the crate into the cargo bay. The damn thing was a lot heavier now than it had been out in the weightless black.
Hiro came traipsing down the stairs into the bay, a wide smile on his face. “They’re not coming after us. You get the goods?”
“Of course,” said Elle. “Open it.”
Nathan knelt next to the crate. Elle and Hiro crowded around him as he pulled it open. Inside, the goods were intact: row after row of rich-colored bars. He picked one out of the top layer and hefted it; it was heavy as lead.
“That’s what I’m talking about,” Elle said. She punched Hiro affectionately in the arm, and he flinched away in pain. “Goods that can get us paid. Hey Kimi, come look,” she called up to Kimiko, who was busy stowing the equipment they’d used on the walk.
Nathan took advantage of her distraction to flip over the bar. He repressed the urge to curse when he saw the Alliance seal stamped into the bottom of the bar. If this one was stamped, they all were. Nathan quickly slid the bar back into its place and slammed the crate shut.
“Hiro, get us to Persephone quick as you can,” Nathan said briskly. “I want to get this load off my boat.”
“Can’t go too fast, Captain. We burn fuel cells too hard, they’re going to run out before we make it to the core.”
“That’s no lying, Captain,” Claire said from the doorway. She finished wiping her hands with a rag before shoving the dirty cloth into a pocket of her coveralls. “Engine’s working hard enough to get what it can out of them.”
Nathan gritted his teeth in frustration. “Well then cut it as close as you can,” he told Hiro. “Elle, let’s get this stowed. Wouldn’t want any tourists stumbling over it.”
“Tourists?” Claire asked eagerly. “Are we taking on passengers?”
“If we can find some paying ones on Persephone, then yes.” Nathan set to work opening up the secret compartment along the wall of the cargo bay that he used to store illegitimate cargo.
“That’s shiny,” Claire said. She took a seat on the stairs next to where Nathan was working. “I can’t wait.”
Elle rolled her eyes and dragged the crate toward its cubbyhole. “Captain, can you please stop her being so cheerful?”
Nathan looked at Claire, whose smile was a mile wide, and then back at Elle. “No,” he said shortly, and returned to packing away the cargo. “No power in the ‘verse can stop her.”
“Don’t be grumpy, Elle.” Claire threw her arms around her and planted a kiss on her cheek. “It’s always nice to meet new friends.”
Elle just glared.
--
Hiro punched in the course for Persephone in silence, waiting for his sister to speak. Kimiko was hovering on the bridge, silently pacing.
“Something’s not right,” she said eventually. “Captain seems jittery.”
Hiro shrugged. “Business has been bad,” he offered.
Kimiko shook her head. “It’s more than that. Something about this job. I think-.” She cut herself off abruptly as Nathan came clattering up the stairs to the bridge.
“How long until we get there?” he asked Hiro.
“Four hours, at this speed.”
“Hm,” Nathan frowned. Kimiko gave Hiro a significant look.
“How’s that put us with the ambassador’s schedule?” Nathan asked.
Hiro “She should be able to meet us at the docks after we touch down. Why, you want me to call and tell her to cut it short?”
“No no. Not at all. Someone around here has to make an honest living.”
--
Author’s note: Okay, so Heidi was supposed to be Inara here. I went through a lot of Inara incarnations, including one pretty hilarious one that you’ll get a glimpse of later. But I couldn’t ever bring myself to write the backstory scene about that character. So it’s not here. I know it’s important to the plot. But I didn’t write it. Sorry.
--
The moment the cargo ramp touched down, Nathan was assaulted by the sights and smells of the Eavsdown Docks. His crew spread out beside him, turning their faces to the sun.
“Claire, book us some passengers,” he said. Then amended, “Paying passengers this time, please.”
“Hey, the Hererras were real nice folks.”
“Yeah, real nice eating us out of house and home and crying all the time. Credits are what we need, little Claire.”
“Yes Captain,” she said grudgingly. Then she plucked at his sleeve. “I sure would like to find us a new compression coil before we head back out.”
“Yeah, and I’d like to be the kind of all Londinium and wear a shiny hat. Just get us passengers, Claire.”
Hiro pulled out of the ramp on the mule, its four broad tires kicking up the dust on the ground, and Nathan turned to issue his orders.
“Hiro. Get us fuelled up, and take on whatever supplies are needful. Only what’s needful. We got no credits to spare right now. We’ll meet up after.” Nathan headed off across the docks, Elle at his side, and Kimiko following.
“Kimi,” Hiro called after his sister. She stopped and looked back. “Joo ta ma ya ming.”
“We will.”
--
Claude Rains pushed up the side of the girl’s lip to look at her teeth. Not too straight, but they weren’t rotting, either. “Good enough,” he said. The guard holding the girl’s arm pulled her away and steered her toward the exit as another guard led a new group into the room: Captain Nathan Petrelli and his merry men. Or women, as the case was.
Claude strolled back to his desk. He loved having Petrelli come in here to his little corner of the world. It wasn’t much more than a set of tents pitched against the back of one of Eavsdown Docks’ freight warehouses and gussied up with some civilized accoutrements, but it was Claude’s place of business, and he loved that a man like Petrelli came here hat in hand like a beggar. “You’re late,” he said.
Petrelli took a stand in front of Claude’s desk. He seemed relaxed, casual, but Claude wasn’t fooled. “Are we now?” he asked. He looked at Kimiko, who shrugged politely. “Seems to me we’re here a good two hours early. Means you’re looking to put us on the defensive. Nothing went wrong on our end, so that gets me to wondering what made you so tetchy.”
“Well, Captain.” Claude leaned back in his chair and propped his feet up among the detritus that cluttered his desk. “I’m a businessman. Got places to be. My time’s very valuable, see?”
“Then we’ve got that in common. Just give us what we’re owed for our work, and we’ll be on our way.”
Claude shook his head. “That the problem with you disreputable types. Always in too much of a hurry to do things the civilized way. And it seems to me, that might come back to bite you in the arse. If, for instance, you didn’t check to see if the goods you were about to sell me was stamped Alliance goods.”
Nathan could feel Kimiko glaring hot blazes at him, but he ignored her. “We did the job you send us on. Didn’t make no mind to me what kind of goods you wanted retrieved.”
“Seems to me you were looking to pull one over on old Claude,” he said, his smile widening as Nathan’s posture grew more rigid. “Sell me stamped goods and then leave me to twist, that right? Well I’m not in the market to be bushwhacked today, friend. Guess you’ll have to try your luck elsewhere.”
“That ain’t fair,” Elle piped up. “We did the job, and now I aim to get paid.” She reached for the gun in the holster on her hip, and suddenly the room was bristling with weapons as Claude’s men drew their guns and aimed them at Nathan and his crew. With a frustrated huff, Elle shoved her pistol back into its holster and crossed her arms over her chest.
“If you hurry, you might get a chance to carry your little cargo out of here before someone tells the Alliance you’ve got pirated goods onboard.” Claude leaned further back in his chair and basked in the glow of Nathan’s frustration.
“World never stops turning, Claude,” Nathan said.
“That only matters to the people on the rim.”
--
Bennet pulled his cart along, in no hurry to threat through the throng milling around the docks. A settler family passed him, each of them from the burly father to the youngest child laboring under a heavy pack of supplies, all corresponding to size. Bennet paused for a moment to avoid tripping over the half-dozen goats that trailed on a string tied to the hand of the youngest child.
As he continued his stroll, he ran an appraising eye over the ships hunkered down on the docking pads. In this part of the city, one hardly expected the ships to be beautiful, but some of these looked barely held together. Long experience had given Bennet a preference for ships that wouldn’t leave their passengers on the drift.
“You’re coming with us.” A sweet voice cut through the bustling sounds of the docks.
Bennet turned to locate the source and saw a young woman sitting in a folding chair on the loading ramp of a Firefly transport. She twirled her multi-colored paper parasol as she smiled at him.
“Beg pardon?” he said.
“You’re coming with us. I can tell. I ain’t seen you look at any destinations; you’ve been looking at ships.” She gestured to the looming vessel at her back. “And mine’s the nicest.”
“Is that a fact?” Bennet pushed his glasses further onto his nose and looked the ship up and down. It wasn’t shiny-new, but it certainly didn’t look damaged or neglected the way some of the other ships around here did. “Not too fancy,” he observed.
“Maybe,” the girl said, and reached out to pat the ship’s hull fondly. “But she flies true. How come you don’t care where you’re going?”
Bennet smiled, and hoped the girl couldn’t see the pain in it. “I’ve been out of the world awhile. Figured I’d walk it a spell. It was time to get out of the abbey.”
“Are you a missionary?”
“I suppose you could say that. Noah.” He extended a hand, which she shook warmly.
“I’m Claire.” She waved her hand again at the ship. “This is Serenity. And she’s the smoothest ride to Boros for those that can pay. Can you…pay… Or?” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.
Bennet liked her. She had a sweet way about her, and she wasn’t talking nonsense; Noah could always tell when a body was talking nonsense. “I’ve got some credits,” he said. “And, there’s this.” He took a box off the top of his luggage and opened it to show Claire the contents.
Her eyes got very wide. “Ooo Daddy,” she breathed.
Bennet smiled. “I never married.”
--
Nathan stormed through the docks, heedless of the crowd and the mess around him. His mind was racing; he had to figure out what to do so that his crew wouldn’t be let down.
“Great,” Elle shouted, just behind him. “This is just great. Now what do you aim to do with this cargo?”
“We’ll go to Whitefall,” Nathan said. “Sandra’ll buy it.”
“I don’t like dealing with Sandra, sir,” Kimiko cut in.
“Why not?”
“She shot you.”
“Yeah, she did a bit,” Nathan shrugged.
“What about Devaux?” she suggested.
“He’s dead.”
“Sprague?”
“Can’t afford it.”
“What about Monroe? We could go to Otsu.”
“Didn’t you hear?” Nathan lowered his voice. “Reavers hit ‘em. Whole town’s gone.”
“I’m not going near any gorram Reavers,” Elle piped up.
“Thompson,” Kimiko said.
“Wouldn’t touch it with a ten foot pole. You want me to go down the list?” Nathan asked. Kimiko didn’t reply. “Sandra’s close, and she’s our best bet.”
“There’s another alternative, sir.” Kimiko swung to a stop at the side of a dog-meat stand. “Dump the cargo.”
“What?” Elle turned to Nathan, eying him suspiciously to see how he had taken the suggestion. “I didn’t sign onto this crew just to stand around and look pretty. I am to get paid.”
“It isn’t worth getting shot over,” Kimiko told Nathan.
“Kimi...” Nathan lowered his voice below the level of the crowd around them. “We don’t get paid for this, we ain’t got the credits to fuel the ship. We’re drifting.
Kimiko looked away, squinting into the setting sun beyond the shacks and tens of Eavsdown. She was always one to keep Nathan from doing anything crazy, but she was a smart business woman, too. She understood why they couldn’t afford to walk away. “Then we go to Sandra,” she said. “And we go prepared.”
Grim-faced, the three trooped back to the ship, where Claire was ushering some strangers aboard: passengers, presumably.
“That the lot of them?” Nathan asked.
“Yes sir. Three paying passengers,” Claire said.
Nathan nodded. “Good work, Claire. That’s some coin, at least.” He threw a last disgusted look at the docks before heading inside.
As the ramp started to close, Claire grabbed her chair and parasol and took one last look out at the docks. “All aboard.”
--
Author’s note: Then we skip a bit, because I didn’t write this part. I did, however, write about four versions of this next scene. For those of you who don’t know what’s going on, one of the new passengers in Serenity sent a message to the Alliance. Oh noes! The crew suspects Mohinder (who is playing the role of Simon, tonight), who has been acting all shifty, plus has a highly suspicious large box in the cargo bay of which he is overprotective. Everyone charges into the cargo bay to find out what’s in the box. Nathan kicks it open, and…
--
“What in the go-se is that?” Elle demanded.
“Looks like a boy in a box,” said Hiro.
“I can explain. Please, I need to check his vitals.” Mohinder struggled in Kimiko’s grip. Her mouth pressed into a grim line, and she yanked him back sharply. “He wasn’t supposed to come out of cryo for another two weeks.”
Nathan turned away from the box to snap at Mohinder. “Just in time to see he’s been sold to some border moon brothel. Or was this one for you?”
A scream prevented any reply. Nathan jumped back as the man in the box bolted upright. He wasn’t much more than a boy; he was painfully skinny and pale, and his eyes held a haunted look behind a dark curtain of damp bangs. His scream was shrill, more animal that human, and his eyes darted around the cargo hold without seeing anyone. He scrambled out of the box, and everyone except jumped back a step as he tumbled to the floor. Nathan stood statue-still, staring at the naked waif.
“Peter!” Mohinder tried again to pull free, and his time Kimiko let him go.
The man huddled against the side of the cryo chamber, hugging his knees to his chest and shaking. “It’s okay,” Mohinder said softly. “You’re safe.”
Moving slowly and smoothly, Mohinder rested his hands on Peter’s shoulders. “It’s Mohinder.”
“What the guay do is wrong with him?”
Peter cowered at the harsh noise of Elle’s voice. Mohinder ran a gentle hand through his hair. “Shhh. No one’s going to hurt you here.”
“He’s terrified. What you have been doing to him?” Bennet demanded. He shrugged off the black jacket that fit over his cassock and knelt beside Peter to wrap him in it.
“Please, it’s not…” Mohinder put out a hand to forestall him. “He’s my patient.”
“He’s got a disease?” Elle stepped away and reached for her sidearm. “You brought some sort of a plague-infested wei xian dong wu onto our boat?”
“No, it’s not that!”
“You some kind of wacky mad scientist?” Hiro asked.
Kimiko looked to Nathan, who was simply staring, transfixed, at where Peter crouched, cowering, between Mohinder and the box. “Captain?” she prompted.
All eyes turned to Nathan.
He shook himself out of his daze. “Take him to the infirmary, doctor. Then I see a need for you and I to have a conversation.”
--
Author’s note: Skip a bit again. In case you need help following the plot, an Alliance ship arrives, the Alliance spy in their midst (Matt Parkman, by the way, but I didn’t get around to writing any scenes with him in them) announces that they have to hand over the fugitives they’re harboring (i.e. Mohinder and his boy-in-a-box), or bad things will happen. Matt gets twitchy, however, and accidently shoots Claire when she runs in to see what’s going on. Matt orders Nathan to power down the ship and wait to be boarded by the Alliance. And then…
--
“No no no no.” Mohinder stood and backed away from where Claire was bleeding her life out onto the floor. “Run. We have to run.”
“We’re not going anywhere until she’s okay,” Nathan snapped.
Mohinder took another step back. “You’ve seen stomach wounds before?”
During the war, Nathan had seen a corporal who’d been sliced across the belly by flying shrapnel, seen the red and brown mess of his insides and listened to him beg for Nathan to save him. The same thing was not going to happen to Claire. “I’ve seen ‘em.”
“Then you know how important these next few minutes will be. Run, and I’ll do everything in my power to help her. Let the feds take this ship, and she dies.”
It was no decision at all, and there was hate in Nathan’s eyes when he nodded. “Fine. Do it.”
Kimiko hit the wall comm. “Hiro, fire it up. We’re running.”
With a curt nod, Mohinder stepped forward and went to work.
--
Nathan ran his finger along Claire’s cheek, frowning at how pale she was. It wasn’t right. His crew wasn’t supposed to get hurt. He wasn’t supposed to let anything happen to them. “It’s okay, Claire. You’re going to be okay.” He patted her hand.
“Where is this?”
Nathan started, and his hand was halfway to his gun before he realized that it was the boy-the man- who’d spoken, Peter. The sedative must have worn off. He was clutching a blanket to his chest and looking around with wild eyes.
“Oh. You’re… awake,” Nathan said. Now that he could see the man’s eyes, he looked even more achingly familiar.
“Where’s Mohinder?” the man asked.
“The doctor? He’s around. You weren’t supposed to be up.” Nathan took a step back. “You just sit there nice and quiet like and wait for the doctor to give you another shot.”
“No!” He grabbed Nathan’s arm, and his grip was surprisingly tight. “No more shots!”
There was something so familiar about the pleading way he looked at Nathan. It spoke to something long buried, some force long dormant. “Peter…” He would have been about the same age, now, his brother, if he’d lived. “Are you-?”
“She’s awake,” Peter said abruptly, and raised a hand to point behind Nathan.
“Claire?” He turned, and sure enough, Claire’s eyes were flickering open.
“Hey Captain.”
“How you feeling?”
“Fine. Just shiny. Mohinder patched me up real nice.”
“Man knows his stuff.” Didn’t mean Nathan didn’t want to shove him out the airlock.
“Not his fault. It was nobody’s fault,” she said. She reached out for Nathan’s hand and squeezed it. “Right, Peter?”
“Mohinder’s a good man,” Peter said seriously. “Not a villain.”
“See?” Claire said, patting Nathan’s hand. “You just gotta have faith in people.”
--
Author’s note: And there we end this section. Yes, there was going to be exciting self-discovery and smexing between the brothers Petrelli. But (and now you’re sick of hearing this) I didn’t write that part. So…I told you that I couldn’t decide who to put in the box. Because for a while, it was Sylar. Here’s one scene where Sylar was the one Mohinder had rescued.
--
Mohinder gripped the back of one of the galley chairs nervously. He longed to be back in the infirmary, watching over Gabriel. He should still be asleep after the sedative, but there was no telling if something unexpected might crop up due to the interrupted cryo-sleep. Mohinder longed to be anywhere other than here in the galley, under the staring, hostile eyes of Serenity’s crew. Well, almost anywhere. Not in an Alliance brig. Not sucked out into the black, where his blood would boil and his heart burst, although Mohinder could tell that’s what some of the crew wanted to do to him, and maybe to Gabriel. Mohinder steeled himself. He couldn’t let anything else happen to Gabriel. He had to make them understand.
With all of Serenity’s crew watching him closely, he stood up and tried to explain. “I’ve been working with specials for a long time. My father pioneered the protocols for deactivating powers, and everything he knew he passed on to me. Right out of school I became the chief medical officer at a facility on Osiris that deals with exceptional young people: those who for some reason or another resist the vaccine that eliminates such abnormalities. I followed in my father’s footsteps, finding ways to manipulate the genetic code to alter or contain these mutations. My work was ground-breaking, and I was one of the brightest in my field. I tell you this so that you’ll understand what I mean when I tell you that Gabriel is… truly special.
“He was part of a genetic research project to help us understand the patterns of the godsend gene. Then… I was approached by an organization that wanted to find out more about the abilities themselves: how they work, what they can do. They asked me to recommend some patients from my research. Gabriel was one of those patients. Every test they invented, he passed with flying colors. The things he could do were amazing, and every day it was something new. Once he-.” Mohinder began to chuckle at the memory of one of Gabriel’s brighter days, until he caught sight of Serenity’s crew, staring at him, stone-faced. He sobered up immediately. This was going to be harder than he thought.
--
Author’s note Okay. Then I started writing “The Train Job” with a few changes in casting: this is one of the few surviving scenes in which Adam is playing the second-in-command. Be warned: these pieces are much more snippet-y than the previous stuff.
--
Linderman stood at the counter, chopping up a zucchini with expert skill. The galley was large, but in contrast to Serenity’s coziness, this place seemed dim and rusty, almost industrial. The only spot of color was the spread of fresh vegetables on the counter. Nathan hadn’t seen such a bounty in… Well, he couldn’t rightfully remember.
Nathan waited patiently while Linderman worked. Beside him, Adam stood at the ready, all coiled power under a calm façade.
“So, Captain Petrelli,” Linderman said amicably as he sliced vegetables. “Do you like pot pie?”
“I’ve been known to enjoy a savory pastry or two from time to time,” Nathan said.
“Good, good.” Linderman wiped his hands on the apron tied around his waist, and turned to regard Nathan and Adam. “I’ve heard a lot about you, captain. You and your crew. You’re supposed to be hard workers.”
Nathan nodded. “We do the job, we get pain. I heart you had a job needs doing.”
“Have you ever worked the train before?” Linderman asked.
“Sure,” Nathan lied. “Couple of times.”
--
Author’s note: Now we’ve changed casts again, but are still pursuing the same plot. Nathan is out on Linderman’s train job with his second-in-command (here played by Niki). Those left behind are having a little conversation.
--
Bennet flipped another page in his Bible and idly scanned the next passage. He knew he wasn’t giving the text the attention it deserved, but it was difficult to focus. Somewhere on this dusty world, the captain of this ship and his band of miscreants were engaging in some shady dealings. And Bennet was left with nothing to do but wait.
Soft footfalls echoed in the corridor, and Bennet stopped himself from reaching for a gun he no longer carried. Instead, he gripped his Bible with both hands, and waited.
Peter Petrelli appeared in the doorway, looking elegant as always in tailored pants and a deep blue silk shirt. He hesitated at the threshold when he saw Bennet. He wasn’t in the mood to deal with a shepherd railing at him about the wickedness of his ways, but he schooled his expression into a polite mask and said, “I’ll be out of your way in a moment.”
Peter went directly to the small galley and began assembling a light brunch from the protein cubes in the bins. He was aware of Bennet watching his every move, aware of the jingle of his bracelets breaking the silence, but he refused to let the man’s scrutiny unnerve him. After a moment, Bennet spoke. “How do you think it’s going?”
“The caper?” Peter smiled. So this passenger, at least, had no illusions about the business of this ship’s crew. “Nathan knows what he’s doing. They’ll be back in no time.” He hit the switch on the counter to set hot water boiling so he could make tea, and turned to address Bennet. “Why the sudden interest?”
Bennet ignored that question. “Don’t you worry about your brother?”
“Constantly,” he said. And that was no more than the truth.
Bennet fiddled with his Bible. “I just wish there was something I could do to help.”
Peter raised an eyebrow at him.
“Not with the crime, I mean,” Bennet said quickly.
Peter cracked a smile. “You could pray.”
“I somehow don’t think the captain would appreciate that.”
“Just don’t tell him.” The tea kettle whistled, and Peter turned back to take it off the stove. “I never do.”
--
Author’s note: After helping the crew snag the payload from a train, Niki and Nathan get caught up in a mining town while the local sheriff investigates the theft. Meanwhile, the crew has gathered on the bridge to talk about the next step. Elle wants to take the goods to the crazy man that hired them.
--
“Fire her up. Now,” Elle growled.
“I am not leaving without Niki,” D.L. said, crossing his arms over his chest.
“You’ll do what I gorram say,” Elle snarled. “You know what the chain of command is? It's the chain I go get and beat you with 'til ya understand who's in ruttin' command here. Now fire it up…” She grabbed onto the back of D.L.’s chair, swaying a little.
“This is madness,” said Bennet.
“Elle, I think you should sit down,” Mohinder said mildly.
She waved him off. “We gotta get this finished. And then maybe, maybe we'll come back for those morons who got themselves caught. You can't change that by getting all... bendy.”
D.L. squinted at her. “All what?”
“You shouldn’t do… Straight lines…” Elle frowned and poked at the thin air in front of D.L. “Before we shine… It’s all sparkly.” Then she fell forward hard, landing with a hollow thud on the floor of the bridge.
“Did Elle just go crazy and fall asleep?” D.L. asked.
“I… I gave her something to put her to sleep,” Mohinder admitted. “Actually, it was meant to take effect sooner. I hope you don’t mind.”
“Not at all,” said D.L.
“So what are we going to do?” Peter asked. “Linderman is waiting.”
“We can’t just waltz into Paradiso and bust them out,” D.L. pointed out.
“Well…Someone respectable enough might be able to,” Bennet said thoughtfully.
--
Peter swooped into the Paradiso train station like an exotic nightingale into a cage full of chickens. Nathan stares as much as any of the locals as Peter glided across the dirty floor. His outfit certainly announced his status; we wore a white silk shirt, open at the throat, a black jacket and pants tailored to show off the best of his assets, and colorful bracelets that jingled like a rim-world carnival. But even more than that, the way Peter held himself set him apart; he managed to be both aloof and alluring, causing the good people of Paradiso to bend toward him even as they shrunk back in awe.
Peter easily cut a path through the crowd. Nathan stood to meet him, to give him a few choice words about how kuang zhe de it was to expose himself to a situation like this, but as soon as Peter was within a few feet, he drew his hand back and slapped Nathan across the face.
“Sherrif, I want this man bound by law. That is,” he said, smiling at his own wit, “Assuming he hasn’t been already.”
“Nooo,” Parkman drawled. “Not as yet. His story did seem a mite…unlikely.”
A surge of whispers drew the sheriff’s attention, and he turned to see every townsperson in the station straining for a look at the Companion. Peter lowered his eyes demurely, and Parkman stammered, “Beg your pardon, Mister Petrelli. I don’t think a one of them has ever seen a real Companion before.” Not that Parkman had either, but he didn’t want to seem like a yokel in front of the Companion.
Peter favored him with a soft smile. “Well thank you for holding them. Nathan is my indentured man; he has three years left on his contract.” He turned to Nathan. “Did you honestly think you could escape your duties so easily?”
“No…Sir.” Nathan had to work to keep a smirk from turning up the corners of his mouth.
“And Niki. What would your husband say if he knew you were here?”
“I was weak,” Niki said, deadpan.
“Do you need to hold them much longer?” Peter asked, turning back to the Sheriff. “I’d like to get back to my ship.”
“Right. Of course. I think we’ve got all we need. If you’d just…” He took a datapad from his deputy and handed it over to the Companion to sign.
Peter scrawled his name in slender, elegant letters that matched the rest of him. “Come,” he said, and snapped his fingers. He strode out of the station and his two charges fell in line behind him.
“His papers checked out?” Parkman asked as he watched his best lead walk out of the station door into the dusty sunlight.
“Yep,” Audrey said. “Ran ‘em twice.”
“Well. Let’s get back to work.”
--
Author’s note: That’s it! That’s all she wrote! I love me some Firefly, but this was just never going to make it to full-fledged-finished-fic status, so I hope you enjoyed a peek at the cutting room floor.