When he was a kid, on his home planet of Attica, he'd dream of going out there. Into the black. His parents shrunk from the idea, terrified of all that empty vastness, terrified of getting stranded on some desert planet a few hundred light-years from Attica, terrified of leaving the world where they were something for a world where they were nothing.

But James?

He saw space as a challenge.

To be fair, though, when he was a kid, he'd always starred in his adventures as a Ranger, or an Imperial Guardian, not quite as a -

"Low-down, sonofabitch pirate!"

"I think that's supposed to be a noun, not an adjective," points out James. "Also, I'd refrain from insulting my mother - or indeed, me - while I've got my gun pointing at your head."

"Also calling us pirates as an insult is a little like calling water wet, or calling you foul. It's not an insult, it's a fact."

"This is Imperial property, and there will be Guardians coming to find us!" blusters the captain of the ship that James and his crew have just raided. "We won't rest until you're served justice!"

At James' shoulder, Sirius sighs. "If I had a penny for every time - "

" - you'd be a rich man. Still, we're not faring too bad, anyway. This'll fetch us - what, ten thou? Fifteen?"

"I'd wager twenty, even, if we play our cards right. We've just got to deal with this lot," Sirius points at the crew of the ship, trussed up and slouched in varying stages of consciousness, "before we can head to Hattan. We should catch the rush at the Sunday market. If we can leave soon."

"Remus is dealing with it." James glances down at the captain, on his knees with James' gun steady at his temple. "Don't worry, he's not disabling you permanently. Just giving you a little puzzle to solve."

"It's important to keep your brain active. Really, we're helping you."

The captain glares up at them.

"It's difficult to see it now," admits Sirius. "But you'll thank us when you get some perspective."

—

"Ready!"

With an almighty creak, the Marauder pulls away from the Empire Rose, the Imperial ship from which James and his crew have just relocated a lot of rather important-looking weaponry.

The sound of thudding footsteps precedes the knock on the door of the cockpit, and without waiting for an invitation, Peter comes in. "I've loaded the storage area, we're good to go."

"Already gone, mate." James squints out of the window, hands resting lightly on the wheel before him. Peter laughs a little awkwardly.

A burst of white noise emanates from the speaker beside him before Remus' voice echoes through the cockpit, slightly scratchy. "All shipshape down here, but I'd like to refuel sometime within the next couple of days."

"How much have we got?"

"'Bout half a tank, little less maybe."

"Tell me again when it's a third."

"James."

"None of your lip, Lupin. We'll be fine. 'S your turn to do dinner, by the way."

"Yeah, I know. Thinking of doing a fry-up."

"Can't wait. Go on, then, I'll leave you to it."

"Lupin out."

The line goes dead, and James sighs and looks back at the console, running a hand through his hair. Then he frowns, and leans closer, hands drifting down to tap at the keyboard.

"Get Sirius, Pete."

"What is it?"

"Just get him."

Peter returns, Sirius pushing past him, to find James speaking tersely with Remus.

" - yes, I'm aware, Remus, but just…just check again, because these monitors don't just malfunction."

"What's going on?" demands Sirius.

"There's a ship," responds James tightly.

"Captain, we did all the research. No non-Imperial ships have been here in the past ten years. We're tens of light-years away from civilisation. When we ran the scans, two days ago, there was nobody even in the vicinity of this region. This has to be a malfunction."

"A ship? What sort?"

"We can't tell. The only thing picking it up is the proximity meter. Which - Remus, I've had this thing since I was sixteen, it's not failed me yet."

"There's a first time for everything. And you just said, you've had it since you were sixteen."

"Just check the damn shields, Remus."

Peter can hear Remus sigh, crackly over the speakers.

"How far away is it?" asks Sirius.

"Not far. It's heading right for us. We'll come within radio distance in the next few hours."

"We're not going to make contact, are we?" asks Peter, alarmed.

"Probably not. I want to check what sort of ship it is before we change course. We should get a visual on it soon. In fact - yeah, there we go…"

The screen directly above the console flickers on and the crew crane their necks upwards, looking at it.

"Ha! There is a ship!"

"What sort of ship is it?" "Excellent. And - " James frowns. "I can't - what sort of ship is that, Sirius?"

"None I've seen before. It's definitely not Imperial, there's no shield on the hull. No name, either, andthat's odd…"

"What does it look like? Also, the shields are definitely up. Nobody can see us unless we allow it."

"About half the size of the Marauder. Grey and red. Slightly battered." James, to his credit, does not tell Remus I told you so.

"Probably a passenger ship, then. One of those rubbish tin-can things, you know, you pay a tenner to go to the other end of the system. You may as well take our shields down, Remus. Even if they do recognise us, they won't care. They're fleecing the Empire just as much as we are."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, go on. Once you're done, come up here, see if you can ID it."

It takes Remus only a few minutes to take down the shields, and then a few more for him to appear in the cockpit. His forehead creases as he looks at the screen.

"I don't recognise it."

"Well, then. Let's leave it at that."

—

James is sitting quietly at the helm when it happens.

It's getting late, on the Marauder. It's not easy to tell time in deep space, but their internal body clocks let them know roughly when it's time to sleep. It's been over two weeks since they've touched land, which means they've set into a pretty regular routine. Remus insists that they eat at the same time every day. He'd probably set bedtimes as well, if he could.

So a few hours after dinner, the crew tend to start drifting away, to wind down for the day. They stay up drinking fairly often - they are four twenty-threeish men, after all - but usually after a raid they tend to get an early night.

Currently, Remus is in his hammock, down in the engine room, probably reading. Sirius is snoring lightly beside James, in the co-pilot's seat. Peter is in the kitchen, having a snack before he goes to bed. It's quiet, and James rather likes it that way. It's all very well running wild on-world, but it's nice having a little bit of peace and quiet every now and again.

He's just about to turn the ship on auto-pilot and head to bed when the tell-tale beeping of an incoming message begins, entirely out of place. He stares at the screen above for a minute, then taps at the keyboard before him and reads the message, before leaning over and shaking Sirius awake.

"Mmpf. What…?" He sits up, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. "What is it?"

"The other ship. They've made contact with us. They want a video conversation."

"Tell them to fuck off. Pretend we're all asleep. Like I was before you woke me." He lies back down and rolls over.

James hesitates. "They say they're in trouble. That could mean anything."

"We're pirates, James. We don't have to have a moral code. And if we did I'm sure we wouldn't have to stick to it. I'm fairly sure our souls are already damned to hell eternal."

"That's not the point, Sirius, what if they die?"

"They're not going to die, they're just out of gas or something."

Silence fills the room.

Sirius lets out an exasperated sigh and sits up again. "You're going to bloody do it anyway, go on then."

James smiles brightly and types a rapid response. A few seconds later, the beeping sounds again, a little more elongated.

"This is the Marauder, how can I help?" He looks at Sirius, grinning, as they wait for the call to begin transmitting.

The screen flickers into action, and his back straightens, hand drifting up to run through his hair, as his smile softens slightly.

"This is Dr. Lily Evans, of the Lioness. We have a code 231 - er, no, that's not right, Mar, that means fire - I think it's 321…that's not it? Oh, bugger it, we've got a malfunctioning engine, that'll have to do." The redhead on screen looks rather harassed as she speaks to someone behind the camera.

James doesn't reply immediately, prompting her to tap the camera and ask, "Is this thing working? Can you - hello, are you there? I can't see you - "

Jolting, he leans forward and flicks on a switch. "Oh - sorry, here you go. Er. Hello, Lily."

Lily leans forward, squinting into the camera. "Potter?"

"Been a while, hasn't it?"

"What are you doing here?"

He looks at her as if she's grown an extra head and he knows it's slightly cruel and purposefully obtuse and unhelpful to boot, but the teenager in him can't help but reply, "Talking to you, Evans."

"You bloody know what I mean. Is that your ship?"

"Yeah, it is. Nice, innit?"

"And you're Captain?"

"Who else?"

"Is that Evans?"

"Black?" Lily turns helplessly to the side, speaking to someone off-screen. "Have I - can I just check, I'm awake, aren't I?"

A female voice laughs, faint, and makes vague noises of assurance.

"What is she doing here?" demands Sirius in an eerily similar echo of Lily's previous question.

"What're you doing here, Evans?" James leans back and smiles easily, running his hand through his hair.

"I said, didn't I? Part of my engine combusted. Completely unfixable, we've all tried. We're running on borrowed time."

"All of which boils down to you, begging us to help." James smirks.

"I'm asking, not begging. But Potter, if you refuse we will die."

"That's not begging or asking. That's blackmail. And it's Captain, to you."

"We'll pay our way. Each one of us. We've got five crew members in all, that's - let's say two hundred each? It's all we can afford."

"Ah, now that's bribery."

"Is it working?" Her face is growing redder and redder.

"I'll have to get the rest of my crew before we decide. Sirius, get Remus and Peter for me." Sirius looks at him inscrutably before leaving."And I've got a few questions, too."

"Are you aware that my ship is shortly going to explode?"

"That's why we need to make it quick. First: are you working with or for the Imperial Government?"

She answers without comment. "No, we're an independent research group."

"Second, where are you heading and what do you plan to do there?"

"Siren, and none of your business."

"Listen, Evans, I don't want to get hauled up by the Guard because you're growing flyth or something in your spare time."

"Our research is entirely legal. And so are our hobbies."

"None of you have criminal backgrounds?"

"I think Alice used to be an axe-murderer. She's retired now. Probably." She raises an eyebrow coolly.

Remus, Peter, and Sirius enter, the former two clearly having been updated by the latter. James raises his eyebrows at them, receiving nods in return.

"Alright, go on then. We have a deal, Evans. But you've got to put the work in. Cooking, cleaning. The works,"

"We'll do it if you will. And that's Doctor, to you."

"Contrary to popular belief, four bachelors living together do not actually have terrible personal hygiene."

"I'll believe it when I see it. I take it Remus and Peter are with the pair of you."

"Of course. Where else would they be?"

"At least there's someone responsible on board. We'll pay upon arrival."

"Fine by me. We're heading to Hattan. We'll take you there, and further. So long as you pay us for the journey and we don't get any better offers."

"So kind of you. Alright, we'll see you in an hour or so." She hesitates. "And…thanks, Potter."

"'S alright, Evans. You can always repay us by bringing along that sexy lingerie I know you have."

She tilts her head towards the side. "Hm. Come to think of it, I'm not entirely sure that Alice got rid of those murderous tendencies. I know she sleeps with this one axe under her bed. Calls it Sheila. She's very protective of us, you know. Anyone so much as looks at us wrong -poof! There goes their heads."

"Your point being, Evans?"

She leans forward and smiles sweetly. "Another comment like that and I'll gut you. I'll see you soon, Potter."

A/N: Hello! How have you all been?

This is just a snippet of something that may or may not be continued, and it was inspired by the Jily Pirate Fest over on Tumblr, which you guys should absolutely check out because there's some great fic there! What do you reckon, should I carry on?

Love to all,

Sriya xxx

P.S I don't own Harry Potter or Firefly, the latter of which did sort of inspire this fic.