Disclaimer: Stargate: SG-1 characters and premise are not mine. Firefly characters and premise are property of Joss Whedon. I aim to misbehave. But not get sued.
A/N: In Stargate, I'm setting this season 3-ish, because that's what I have the DVD's up to and I also find it happily before when things start to break down pre-Season Sux, as well as when a lot of interesting team-dynamic stuff preluding to that actually takes place. In Firefly, we're post "Objects in Space" but Pre-Serenity. Joss is far too good at killing characters off. I've been trying to work my way around that, but damn.
Summary: Welcome to the Black. Still flying, and it's enough.
STILL FREE
Fwhoosh!
"Get down! Go!" Jack lunged, managing to tackle Daniel out of the way. Staff blasts seared the air overhead. I do not believe this. He spat out a mouthful of dirt. "Carter! Dial out!"
Blonde hair raced toward the DHD, dodging the Jaffa's fire across the clearing. Zig, zag, zag again – good, she's clear. And hiding behind the DHD, a definite no-firing zone for both sides. But the area around the 'gate itself. . . no such luck. After all, the ring was made of naquada. No zat blast was going to affect it. Unlike the irreplaceable, and too-vulnerable crystals housed in the DHD. No way do they want to be stuck here. No way do I want to be stuck here with 'em. "Carter!"
"Need a clear shot, sir!" Just enough bite in her voice to tell him that it was all okay, right now. She couldn't get out from cover to dial, but they'd help her with that, soon as.
Sheltered near the platform supporting the Stargate, Teal'c doggedly returned fire. Daniel had long since squirmed out from under him, belly-crawling towards the rest of the team.
Jack counted four. "Dammit, where is he!"
"Might have gotten cut off," his archaeologist offered, trading hot lead for the bolts of energy flying their way.
"It is possible the Tok'ra Aldwin is behind the line of Jaffa." There was irritation in Teal'c's impassive face. You just had to know where to look.
"Like he'd use the advantage," Jack muttered. Damn snakes are all the same.
"I would, were I there," came an unexpected voice.
"Yeow!" The colonel took a deep breath, squeezing off a shot that took out one armored opponent before loosing his ire on the Tok'ra spy seated calmly next to him. "Where the hell were you?"
"I was separated," Aldwin replied calmly. The electrical, indescribable noise of a zat powered up between them. "I managed to slip past the Jaffa and circled farther around than I intended. I came upon the fight from behind the Chappa'ai." He fired. Missed.
Useful as ever. "Carter!"
"I could use some -"
Twin blasts from P-90 and staff weapon took out two more Jaffa.
"On it, sir!"
"Hurry, Sam!"
Jack looked to see what had his normally chipper archaeologist so panicked; and realized that it was a sound, not a sight. Not yet. Shielded by the trees - Coming from above.
"Gliders," Teal'c confirmed grimly.
"IDC sent!"
Bless Carter. "Major! Go!"
The slender form was the first to hit the event horizon, followed by Danny and Teal'c. Jack raced towards shimmering blue. His team was through, and he could really care less for the damn snake that had gotten them all into this in the first place. Aldwin's on his own.
Last, the Tok'ra hurled himself after SG-1.
Unnoticed, a small metal box clamped to the outer ring of the Stargate flashed, red and green.
The suns were shining, the grass was brown, and they were up to it in crime. At least today it's just a drop.
"Horowitz."
"Reynolds."
Oh, yeah. This is gonna go great. But her shotgun was loaded and only a holster away.
The captain waved a finger at the large, metallic ring with the strange symbols on it that marked their meet. "Nice monument."
"Landmark." Horowitz was a small man, almost as round as he was tall, concealing his sharp, conniving ways beneath jowls and blond stubble. He sounded like a wet pig when he grunted. "Kids like to dress up and pretend it's a fairy ring."
And do some other things too, if she was any judge. Zoë spared an eye for some … interesting graffiti. The other was firmly occupied by Horowitz's flunkies. Too many men for just a pickup.
She caught the captain's eyes for a moment; saw that he already knew. He might be many things, but not much got by him when it came to a fight. Despite some of his plans.
"Quite a few fellas you brought with ya for a simple drop."
Horowitz's eyes narrowed. "Heard Bolles had a hard time of it, last time he met up with you."
She recognized the line of tension in the captain's shoulders from when ordinance was dropping. Fingers inched toward her holster, slow'n steady. "Third party," she interjected. Niska. He'd killed their contacts, and grabbed her husband and the captain. Looks like that trouble didn't end on the Skyplex. Somehow the old bastard had managed to slink away. "Hasn't happened since."
Sweating from two suns, the middle man spoke too loudly. "An' we're gonna make sure it don't happen again."
Code phrase. Her shotgun was out and sighted; captain's pistol squared on Horowitz's gut. But at least thirty guns sprang up from all around, mounting the platform in front of the ring, popping up from the grass on every side. Surrounded.
As ever, the Captain tried to keep their skins from gathering any more holes. "Horowitz. It doesn't have to go down like this."
The man in question eyed them. "You been a solid carrier since I known ya, Reynolds. So's I'm not wantin' to do nothin' to damage a workin' business relationship. Just takin' my care, is all."
"I see that," the captain muttered.
"Not lookin' good, sir." Zoë turned, glancing around the circle, putting her back against the captain's.
"When is it ever?"
Which would be when the huge ring started to spin.
Clunk.
"What the -" Horowitz stared at them. Zoë kept her eyes on the men; a few of the young ones looked around in fear as the ground shook, ever so slightly, underfoot. It's the more experienced ones, who can assess their surroundings and not take their sights off us, that gotta be taken out first. She had her targets picked.
Clunk.
"Hey, don't look at us!" The captain gave a small laugh. She couldn't see his face, but the grimness in the humor was something she'd heard through a hundred battles. "Hell, this here's your planet. We just landed on it." If she hadn't been waiting for bullets to fly, she'd never have heard it. "Won't be makin' that mistake again."
Clunk. Whirrr.
It was glowing. Tsao duh. "Sir?"
His voice reached her ears, and went no further. "Anything happens, hit the ground."
Zoe's mind was on the next weapon she could reach. "Don't need to tell me twice."
Clunk.
Horowitz's eyes were widening. "Grab them crates." He was met with blank stares; Zoë felt the captain swallow a small laugh. "I said grab 'em!" The middle man was sweating unpleasantly. "Reynolds. Pleasure doin' business with ya."
Clunk.
"And the payment?"
Tension ratcheted the men around them. Fingers tensed on triggers. Zoe hoped the captain's question hadn't been their death warrant. But they'd done the damn job.
"Here!"
Metal chimed sweetly, distinct through the sounds of men moving, dropping their wariness and formation to move toward the goods. Not fast enough, apparently. Horowitz's face was red from shouting. "Let's get the niou-se crates. Ma-shong!"
Clunk.
She didn't like this. Not at all. "Sir?"
Men brushed by them with a speed born of panic. Milling around, grabbing crates and loading wagons. "We got our coin. We go. Nice and easy. Away from that - "
Clunk. Whoosh!
And something exploded out from the center of the ring, through the two men who hadn't already jumped away from the low platform in fear. Zoë knocked the Captain to the ground, feeling the air move inches over her head.
Horses screamed. Men too – and the sound of pounding feet and hooves kicked dust into their faces. She let herself look up – to see Horowitz and his people making tracks due east with no care for the two dead.
The captain grunted, finding room in his lungs for a bit of air. "Are they screamin' bout fairy rings?"
"Sir." It was a purer blue than any she'd seen except in the Core, and never found in water. But it had ripples and waves and glowed like the sun's reflection off a pond. They found their feet, far too close for comfort. "What do you think it -"
And then the first person burst from the liquid-like surface. And she was armed.
The captain sucked in a breath. "Wuh de tyen, ah."
They moved.
The sun on this planet was hot. When Sam glanced up, she was boggled by the sight of a gas giant looming in the sky, light blue and utterly massive. We're on a moon. How did this – this isn't the Tok'ra alpha site! And she hadn't misdialed. The next time she saw that snake, she was going to –
Stone under her feet – not the sand she'd expected. No guards. Where are we? The area all around the Stargate was flat, covered by short brown grass beyond the smooth rock platform circling the naquada ring. And her heart dropped into her shoes. No DHD. Maybe it was . . . she started to turn.
Click.
You never forgot the sound of a pistol cocking. Especially when it was practically in your ear.
"Hands in the air, now," drawled a masculine voice. Beside her. "Nice'n easy, miss." She risked a glance. Where did he come from? Reasonably tall, with brown hair in need of a combing, and blue eyes that gave nothing away. Not bad-looking, but with an intentness she'd seen in the mirror some days. When I know I'm headed for a fight. A grim-faced black woman stood at his side, shotgun trained and ready.
Schloop.
Familiar gasp, from behind. "Sam!"
"Daniel -" she tried.
"Ah!" The gun didn't waver from her as the man shook his head. "Zoë?"
And the woman's shotgun was trained on the archaeologist. She was Sam's height, with thick, curly hair and no humor in brown eyes.
"Please." Daniel at his most persuasive was a force to be wary of. "We're peaceful explorers -"
The man and woman traded a look, one that said, here we go again. "Hush your fussin'," he interrupted, almost kindly. "More comin'?"
The wormhole disgorged Teal'c and Jack in quick order.
"Hands away from your weapons." Suddenly the man wasn't smiling anymore. His face had gone cold, the way the Colonel's did when facing the unknown. He's sizing us up. Blue eyes flicked over each of them, assessing. Measuring.
Aldwin was the last through. Sam squashed the cynical hope that he'd gotten lost in the wormhole. The Tok'ra are our allies. Annoying, double-dealing, manipulative allies, but they're on our side. Most of the time. That didn't mean she had to like him. And for this stunt, they'd earned whatever they got, from the SGC and her father both.
The 'gate died, the hum of power fading into the dead quiet of the plain. Five of us. Two of them. The odds were good, if Daniel wasn't able to talk them down. But having that pistol unerringly aimed at her heart wasn't doing anything for her blood pressure.
The gun left her, pointed dead at Aldwin. The man took a few steps back, making sure he was clear to shoot if he had to.
The woman spoke up for the first time. "Sir?"
"Somethin' ain't right, Zoë."
Despite the situation, Sam had to bite back a snicker. And he goes straight for the snake. Good instincts.
"Aside from Horowitz's fairy ring acting up in the middle of the drop?"
The man's head tilted consideringly. Zoë, on the other hand, kept her gun on Daniel without wavering.
"'Side from that. So." Blue eyes scanned them; settled on their linguist. "You wanna tell me what's going on?"
Daniel kept his hands out, open and friendly, ready to launch into his spiel. "I'm Daniel Jackson. We're peaceful explorers -"
"Mighty lot of guns you have, bein' so peaceful an' all."
"Careful peaceful explorers," the Colonel put in dryly.
The man eyed the colonel carefully, and stiffened. Whatever he saw, he clearly didn't like.
"We're Tau'ri -"
"You're what?" the woman asked. Dark eyes kept scanning all of them, while the man was watching their surroundings. They've been in situations like this before. All the more dangerous for it. But it was up to Daniel, as it so often was. Sam had complete confidence in her teammate. He'd talked them out of much worse.
"We're human," the archaeologist clarified, a little taken aback.
The man spoke up again. His gun hadn't left Aldwin, but he kept himself a good distance from the Tok'ra, and the attention he spared from his surroundings went to the colonel and Teal'c. "Some reason you wouldn't be?"
She felt her jaw slip, a little, and closed it up. Most of the people they'd met on other worlds had been as human as they were. Not with the level of technology she could see in casual use here. Their clothes look like they come from our time period in regard to textiles, though the cuts are different . . . but their weapons are much more modern. Even so, they'd been mostly aware of other races – the Goa'uld, predominantly. Aside from that, there was something odd about them. She desperately wanted a closer look at their weapons, just as soon as Daniel convinced everyone not to kill each other.
The archaeologist hid his surprise admirably. Better than she had. "Um, no. We came through the Chappa'ai -"
"Shuh muh?"
Sam blinked. What language was that?
Daniel apparently knew it. "The Chappa'ai? The Stargate?" A thumb jerked back toward the naquada ring. "That?"
"We seen that," the man snorted. "Zoë. Alliance?"
Curls shook in the negative. "Don't look like it, sir."
Sam blinked as the word finally registered. Sir?
The man eyed them all, and then addressed the colonel. "Peaceful, huh?"
"Generally. Unless people start shooting at us," he added, tactful as ever. Warning, and wary.
It surprised Sam when the man nodded, stepped back, and slipped his gun away. Surprised the other woman, too. "Sir?"
"Show of good faith," the man smiled. There was nothing humorous in the expression. But the woman's gun lowered, and Sam dropped her hands. The peace was tenuous, but she'd fought her way out of much worse.
If they're quick enough on the draw to be that confident . . . Daniel was more than able to handle this situation. At least it wasn't as bad as the one they'd just left. PX3-972 was not a planet she was eager to revisit anytime soon.
"Could you tell us where we are?" Daniel, stepping into the terse silence.
"Beylix," the woman answered. "Third moon off this gas giant."
Sam glanced up, and then let herself stare. "It's so big – do you know the orbital radius of this moon? I've never seen one this close; most moons associated with large gas giants are usually uninhabitable -"
"It is unusual," Teal'c noted calmly. Of all SG-1, he was by far the most traveled. "Yet I have seen such before, Major Carter."
The man snorted, clearly amused. "Where y'all from, then, that you ain't seen one a these so close?"
"Earth," Daniel supplied. "But we're not actually traveling from there. In fact, we weren't even supposed to end up here. Sam?"
"I haven't seen -"
"Earth," the man said flatly. "Zoë?"
"They're fong luh."
That strange language again. Familiar enough now that she listened. Oriental. Chinese, maybe? But she was more worried about the fact that there wasn't a DHD in sight.
The colonel stiffened, reading something in their posture. "Daniel?" he hissed. And if the colonel's concerned, something's up. Sam kept her own body relaxed, but was inwardly calculating the time she'd need to bring up her P-90. Just in case.
But the archaeologist was puzzled, not worried, by whatever the man had called them. No danger, not yet. "Fong luh?" Lenses glinted in the doubled sunlight, turned her way. There was a small, vertical line carved between his eyebrows, betraying puzzlement. "They think we're crazy, Jack."
Sam blinked. That's . . . new. Well, outside the SGC. She wouldn't put any money on Ferretti's sanity, but –
"Jen dao mei," the man hissed, biting off each word as if it had committed some grievous sin. Backed away carefully, before turning and motioning the woman. "An' we've our fair share of that. Past time to be gone."
The colonel blinked. "Hey, wait just a second -"
"Yeah?"
Sam frowned. What happened? They're more on edge now than they were when we arrived.
"I just – it -"
Daniel jumped into the edgy silence. Soothing, non-threatening. "We're new here. We'd like to meet some other people from your planet. If you're going to a town or city, we'd like to join you."
There was a heavy, deliberate pause, far longer than it should have been. Sam kept her hands at her sides, no matter how much they wanted to creep toward her P-90. No one was aggressive here; in fact, just the opposite. These people seemed to want nothing more than to get as far away as fast as possible.
Which makes me think we should be running too.
"Town's that way," the man pointed off to the right of the Stargate. The direction polar opposite to the one the two had been facing. "Don't have the exact coordinates, but it's 'bout three miles or so. Can't miss it."
Coordinates? Miles? Since when have we ever found a transplanted culture using the same unit designation for distance? Or for anything, for that matter?
Subvocal, and barely heard, but Jolinar's influence had changed her enough that she could make out the woman's query. "Sir?"
"Horowitz's people can take care of themselves," the man muttered. "Time we were on our way."
"To where?" The colonel jumped in, hands resting easily on dangerous metal. He gave them a hard-edged smile, and Sam flanked him on one side. Teal'c came up on the other. Sorry, Daniel, she registered the archaeologist's glare. But something here had her uneasy – mostly, the way these two were acting. Defensive. Wary. Yet ready to take action if they have to. Not so different from . . . well, from SG-1, under similar circumstances. "And why would you think we're crazy? Outside from the whole, appearing-through-a-fairy-ring bit."
The man snorted, fingers resting none-to-casually on his holstered weapon. The two were backing steadily away, but Sam could see the woman's knuckles pale where she gripped the shotgun. The answer she got made her stomach clench. "Earth-that-was got used up. No one's from there anymore."
This is most unsettling.
Teal'c was not pleased.
"Earth-that-was?" Daniel Jackson queried, almost simultaneously with Major Carter's gasp of, "Used up?"
"Zoë?" The human glanced at his companion; a look that spoke volumes. They have battled together many times, Teal'c noted. The woman's hand was on the weapon now, the two of them clearly facing the rest of SG-1.
"Well." Teeth flashed their way. "Love to say s'been a pleasure meetin' y'all, but what with you droppin' in so unexpected we're not real equipped to handle visitors. So if you turn yourselves thataway for three miles -" a finger twirled toward the gas giant rising at their backs, "You'll find a right pretty town, with food'n'ccommodations nice enough. We've work that wants doin', an' we best be on our merry."
O'Neill's face made it plain he would not accept such an answer. Teal'c tightened his fingers upon the staff weapon.
"Hold it."
"Jack -"
A raised hand cut the archaeologist off.
Teal'c's attention was trained on the woman. This one is dangerous. He approved of a worthy foe, but there was little call for battle as yet.
Daniel Jackson would not be deterred. Hands raised, the archaeologist stepped forward, between the weapons tightly held, though holstered, by each side. "I'm sorry," he said quickly. "This must be very strange to you – but we promise, all we want is information. What do you mean, Earth-that-was?"
"That's history," the man said curtly; frustration was in fingers steady on the holstered pistol. "We were too many for her anymore, so we left. Terraformed planets, five hundred years ago. Now here we are, one great big happy family of humans scattered across two dozen or so planets with our wonderful Alliance government in charge."
Teal'c raised a brow. Irony. It was impossible to interact with O'Neill for any stretch of time without becoming familiar with that particular Tau'ri idiosyncrasy.
A babble of voices broke out.
" – left Earth -"
"Five hundred years ago?" Daniel Jackson interrupted the colonel's wheeze.
Major Carter was more forthright. "Terraformed planets? How?"
"What year is it?"
The brow descended into a scowl as the Tok'ra stepped forward.
"Aldwin," O'Neill growled. "What exactly do you know about this?"
The Tok'ra took a step forward, head dropping. When it rose, the reverberant voice and glowing eyes visibly shocked the two Tau'ri. "Tell me," came the sybiote's grating vocals. "What year is it?"
"2517, Earth reckoning." The woman's dark eyes were dazed; but the muzzle of the shotgun was centered neatly on Aldwin's heart. "Don't move."
Something crackled. The man loosed a string of syllables that brought a flush to the archaeologist's face.
'Zoe, Mal, you missed the check-in.'
A black box rose to the man's lips; but his own pistol's aim was unerringly on O'Neill. So. They divide their forces to the most prominent threats. But they could not hold long against us should we attack. SG-1 dared not do so, however, with Daniel Jackson so prominently in the line of fire. As for Aldwin . . .
It is becoming clear that our present predicament was not unexpected. Were they on Chulak . . .
"Wash. Drop went down, but a little surprised dropped in."
'Why am I not liking the sound of those words?'
The man's voice was calm, but Teal'c watched his eyes, and they never stopped scanning. "Horowitz's fairy ring dropped a few strange folk on us. Give it five." Before their reinforcements arrive.
"Aldwin?" O'Neill's hands were strangling the P-90 as if it were a symbiote's neck. "What exactly do you know about this?"
"That is classified, as you Tau'ri say," was the grating answer.
"Like my sky a little less empty, Wash." Time to go. "Wash!"
"We're coming, we're coming . . ."
"Fast would be better'n slow," Mal hissed into the radio. The five were arguing loudly among themselves, now – or at least their commander was arguing with the. . . the whatever-it-was, and the younger man piped up in outrage. The blonde was even snapping out every once in awhile too. And all their attention's off us.
Silver glinted under the sun.
There she is. No engine noise, not yet; but the big one was turning to look. Jig's up.
"Sir?"
"Run!"
Sweeping low over the grass, Serenity raced at them. C'mon, Wash. C'mon. Closer, closer . . . Too close! Fingers that weren't gripping his pistol slammed on the radio. "Wash!"
She pulled up, dropping to the ground light as a feather.
Bam.
A heavy feather.
Pressed to the hull, Mal looked back. Damn, they run fast!
"Closin' in, sir!"
"Kaylee, open 'er up! Zoë!" She was pressed to the starboard side, he was on port. "Shoot to deter. Fire!"
The strangers had hardware enough to blow holes right through them both and Serenity's hull; he hadn't seen live weapons like that since the war. Even nasty folk such as we deal with don't carry that much of a punch!
Bullets clawed the ground; the five stopped advancing, dropping as one to the dirt. Damn, they're good. Bodies inched forward. And they know we don't want to kill 'em. Gorramit!
The noise of moving parts hit him; the extenders were coming out now.
"Sir! You see that!"
He yelled over the noise of return fire. "See what?"
And then he saw it. Distant, but getting closer; a dust cloud forming a trail that was headed their way. "Horowitz got to the Feds already?"
Through a lull Zoë called back. "He ran fast, sir!"
"For a fat man," Mal muttered. Sweat beaded on his neck, cloth sticking to his back.
Fwoosh!
"What the hell was that!"
A ball of fire splatted into the dirt, exploding violently. Mal flinched away – and away from the ship. Smart.
The ramp hit ground, and Mal moved. Roll, dive – something grazed by far too close for any sort of comfort, leaving a burning line stinging across his side. "Zoë!"
"Sir."
Cold, controlled, take-the-hit voice. No. "Zoë." Swallowed. "Well, ain't this a familiar picture." My crew. Hostage.
Hands up, weapon empty, and two of those guns that could put holes in a body faster than blinking trained on her; it was the commander and the blonde. The big black guy's fire-spitting staff was aimed at them. The kid in the glasses stepped forward, hands up. "We just want to talk -"
"You got guns on my first," Mal snapped, in no mood for games. "Where does talkin' come inta that?"
"You fired at us!" The boy even managed to sound indignant.
Mal was close to the control panel, but not close enough to get Zoë free of them. "We fired to keep you back. I don't miss what I aim at, and I was aimin' at the ground. We want no part of you and your trouble. I sure as shootin' don't want whatever the hell that is on my ship." He lifted a hand, pointing at the one of them that didn't belong. Dressed like it's trying to blend into a desert.
"I assure you," the thing playing at being a man said. "I mean you no harm."
Mal snorted. "Ni de ma de. Tian Xia soy ya duh ren doh goy swa!" The boy flinched; the rest just looked blank. Where the tyen shiao duh are they from? "You see that dust cloud? That there's the law, with more guns'n all of us put together. They get hold of us on the ground, there ain't gonna be nothin' peaceful about it."
"Then what would you suggest?" The commander was scowling worse than clouds about to thunder, but Mal had seen worse in the mirror.
"I suggest you let her go, and then you get the hell off my ship."
"Captain!"
Too much to hope that they'd be able to keep the others out for any longer. It was a miracle they'd been out this long. "Stay back, Kaylee."
Sandals froze on metal grates. The little mechanic sucked in a breath. "Zoë!"
The strangers were staring.
"Kaylee." Mal kept his hands in the air, and put no give in his voice. He didn't have to see her to know she'd frozen in the hatchway leading out to the common space. And the engine room. "I want you to go up to the cockpit and keep Wash in there, you understand? Last thing I need is him out here causin' a ruckus."
"'Kay, Cap'n."
"Kaylee. If you see Jayne, send him down here. And shut the hatch behind you."
Sliding metal accompanied the nod he couldn't see, but knew was there. Good girl.
And suddenly, for no reason he could tell, the weapons were going down.
Zoë was at his side in two steps. Mal was just an arm's reach from the panel. If I could just – "Well, if we're all done shootin' at each other?"
"You have kids on this thing," the commander was giving his Serenity the eye. Mal forced teeth to unclench and listened. "We don't shoot children."
Well, yippe ki-yay. "Obliged."
"Sir," Zoë was staring at the approaching dustcloud; Mal could make out hats, the sun flashing off hooves and steel.
"Much as I'd love to stay here and chat, we've got places we need to be goin'," Mal said bluntly. "We're in no state to take on passengers, so I'm afraid y'all better get on back where you came from." However you plan on doin' that.
"I must advise against it at the moment," the creepy not-man's voice was oily, with a low grating to it that hinted at flashing eyes. "There was no DHD at the Stargate, and we must avoid -"
"Attracting attention?" snapped the commander, freezing hell over with a glare.
"We'd have to dial out manually," muttered the blonde.
"It'll take time, Sam. Time we won't have if -"
"- we've got angry locals on our hands. SNAFU."
"They do appear perturbed."
And while the five were staring back, taking their own sweet time deciding what to do about the quick-riding feds, Mal was at the panel. One fist slammed a glowing light – and easy as lying, Serenity's outer hatch started to rise and the inner doors slammed shut.
The newcomers had no sooner realized what was happening, when they were nicely caught.
And the cavalry's here. Howorwitz's cavalry. Mal pounded a glowing blue light. "Wash, we're on. Go."
A/N: Translations from the Firefly-wiki site. All are phonetic and I don't speak Mandarin, in case you really couldn't tell.
Tsao duh - We're humped.
Niou-se - cow poop.
Ma-shong - now
Wuh de tyen, ah - Dear God in heaven.
Shuh muh? - I'm sorry?
Fong luh - loopy in the head.
Jen dao mei - just our luck.
Ni de ma de. Tian Xia soy ya duh ren doh goy swa! – Yo Mama! Everyone under the sky should die!
Tyen shiao duh – name of all that's sacred