Firefly. 056. Life Will Go On.
Title: The End of the War
Fandom: Firefly
Characters: Simon, River, Inara, Jayne, Wash, Book, Kaylee
Prompt: 056. Life Will Go On.
Word Count: roughly 1,400
Rating: PG
Warnings/Spoilers: None really, unless you have no idea what the Battle of Serenity Valley was about.
Summary: Mal and Zoe were at the Battle of Serenity at the end of the war. A look at where the other characters were when the war ended.
"--and in other news, the Unification War, is looking to be finally and thankfully over. After five weeks of fighting, the Independent High Command officially surrendered to Alliance forces yesterday, on an Alliance cruiser, outside the planet of Hera. It's said that the lack of manpower, and arms for the men they did have, and the military cunning of General Richard Wilkins, brought about the surrender, bringing this war to an end. There are reports of brigades still fighting most notably that of Sergeant Malcolm Reynolds, who is said to blatantly refuse that the war is over, and intends to keep on fighting until he gets the command from Independent High Control personally."
"If you ask me, Sarai, those Browncoats have more things wrong with them than just not standing down. Anyone with half a brain can see Unification is the way to go."
"I couldn't agree more, Alaisender. And after this commercial break, reporter Hawise Wit journeys to--"
"River, why are you watching this?" With a snap of his fingers, the cortex screen blackened. "It's past your bedtime."
River turned, a mutinous glare on her face. "Mother said that I could stay up to watch the news, Simon."
"Yes, and you got your news," Simon retorted. "You heard about the war ending, that's great but you don't need to hear about some new resort moon. So bed, now."
"If Father was here, he wouldn't make me go."
Simon rolled his eyes, and hefted his eleven year old sister to her feet with one hand, the other preoccupied with holding his dissertation. "Father isn't here, and neither is Mother. You have your older brother, and he says bed."
"Can I hear a story, Simon?" River's eyes filled with liquid excitement, making it impossible for him to refuse.
"Oh alright, but only if you get to bed within the next five minutes."
"Okay!"
--
"-- There are reports of brigades still fighting, most notably that of Sergeant Malcolm Reynolds--"
"Can you just shut that off," she snapped, a rarity for she never snapped at anyone. Not clientele, not her sisterhood, not even her family growing up. "Please," she added softening her tone and letting her dress slip down her shoulder just a little, for assurance.
Her client stared at her. "I'm sorry, do you not support Unification?"
"Of course I do," Inara tossed her hair over her shoulder, intending to look offended and succeeding. "But a war doesn't belong in this place; the consecration of union is about love and acceptance, not fighting.”
“Yes, yes of course,” her client answered.
Inara smiled softly at him. “Would you like some tea?”
--
“--Anyone with half a brain can see Unification is the way to go.”
“Jayne Cobb, you lazy son of a gorram bitch, get up.”
Jayne grunted, and rolled over in response to the kick given to his ribs. “I’m awake.”
“I didn’t ask if you were awake,” the kicker growled. “I told you to get up and you ain’t up if yer still on that floor.”
“Fine, fine, I’m up.” Jayne mumbled, staggering to his feet clumsily. “I’m up so what’s all the fuss about?”
“War’s over,” the other man said gruffly. “Plenty o’dead at Serenity, and even more pockets open for the vultures. Get yer gun, we’re going in now.”
A malicious grin crossed Jayne’s face as he reached for his gun. After giving her a check over, and releasing the safety, he asked, ‘What happens if I find any live ones?”
“Same as always,” the man answered. “Kill ‘em.”
--
“Washbourn, do you copy?”
"I couldn't agree more, Alaisender--“
“Yeah, just one second,” the pilot muttered, flipping switches, and turning dials. “Alright, what do you need?”
“You, at Hera… like yesterday.”
Wash rolled his eyes, fiddling with another dial. “Sorry, I had to stop and refuel on Beaumont.” That wasn’t exactly true. The longer he could put off going to that gorram planet full of the war, and… dead people, the better and if faking a refueling stop was the way to do it, then his conscious was okay with that.
His comm was silent and then, “Just get to Hera.”
“Why the sudden urgency?”
“War’s over, in case you haven’t heard. And there are Independent troops there that need a way off that planet, and you’re that way for at least one hundred of them. More if you can fit.”
Wash grimaced at the thought of one hundred stinking, injured Independent troops on the ship with him. He agreed to be a transport pilot for the Independence because they paid well, and he thought that he would have been transporting supplies, not troops.
“Alright, I should be there at just a little after noon tomorrow,” he said, flipping one last switch.
“God bless you, Washbourn, God bless you.”
“Yeah, sure.”
--
“Preacher?”
“I prefer the term Shepherd,” the aging black man drawled in a soft reassuring voice that only men of God seemed to have.
“Beggin’ yer pardon, Shepherd.” Unsure of what to do, the young girl, no more than the age of fifteen dipped into a clumsy curtsy. “Daddy seys that wer ready for ya,” she cast a timid glance over her shoulder at the wedding party assembled in the shade of the one tree in town. “Anytime yer ready,” she added.
Book watched the young bride go back to her family and future in-laws. This wasn’t exactly what he’d expected when he’d joined the church. But Southdown Abbey had sent him out, to be better know the people he would be leading, and apparently that including marrying a young girl to a man three times her age.
He joined the wedding party just as another young girl, same age as the one being married, started yelling, “The war’s over! Them Browncoats finally surrendered!”
“Yeh sure, gurl?” the father of the bride snarled.
The girl, unlike her counterpart tossed her head proudly, opening defying the older man’s rule. “Course I’m sure,” she retorted. “Just come over the cortex.”
“It’s a good sign, ain’t it, Preacher?” the child bride asked in a soft voice that Book almost didn’t hear her over the sudden clamor from the wedding party.. “I mean, the war endin’ on my weddin’ day, means somethin’ good, right?”
“I hope so,” Book replied, placing a hand on her shoulder. “I do hope so for your sake.”
--
“Kaylee!”
“One mimwut!” With a roll of her eyes, Kaylee chewed her dinner, a simple meal of meat and potatoes, faster.
”Breathe, darlin’,” her mother soothed, laying a soft hand on her only daughter’s shoulder.
Kaylee gave her mother a smile around her mouthful and was about to take the advice when her father bellowed again, “Kaywinnit Lee Frye! Get yer sorry ass out here now!”
She stopped with a forkful halfway to her mouth, and sighed. “I’ll be back in a bit to finish, Mama,” she said, setting the fork down and jumping down from the table.
“Don’t worry about it,” her mother answered, starting to clear the table. “Go see what yer Papa wants.”
“What took yeh so long?” was what her father had to say to her when she finally found him in the shop with a customer.
Kaylee flashed a smile at her father. “I was eatin’ dinner, Papa.”
Her father grunted a response. “How long before yeh can get that engine fixed?” he jerked his thumb at a land rover behind him.
“Not more’n a minute,” Kaylee replied with a bright smile.
“Then get on it, gurl.”
For a moment, Kaylee’s smile drooped, but she managed to hide it by lowering her face and hurrying off to fix the engine as she was told.
“A God send, that gurl,” her father commented to the customer. “What yeh in such a big hurry for, anyway, that you need it fixed now?”
“War’s over,” the customer said simply. “Going to Hera, seeing what I can salvage off the Independents. They’re desperate for money, since the Alliance is demanding war debt payments and they don’t need them guns anymore. Should fetch a good price on the market, and I get can get ‘em dirt cheap now.”
Kaylee gave the wrench in her hand another turn and stood up from the engine. “It’s all fixed,” she said softly, eyes downcast.
“Good girl.”
Comments are love.
Fandom: Firefly
Characters: Simon, River, Inara, Jayne, Wash, Book, Kaylee
Prompt: 056. Life Will Go On.
Word Count: roughly 1,400
Rating: PG
Warnings/Spoilers: None really, unless you have no idea what the Battle of Serenity Valley was about.
Summary: Mal and Zoe were at the Battle of Serenity at the end of the war. A look at where the other characters were when the war ended.
"--and in other news, the Unification War, is looking to be finally and thankfully over. After five weeks of fighting, the Independent High Command officially surrendered to Alliance forces yesterday, on an Alliance cruiser, outside the planet of Hera. It's said that the lack of manpower, and arms for the men they did have, and the military cunning of General Richard Wilkins, brought about the surrender, bringing this war to an end. There are reports of brigades still fighting most notably that of Sergeant Malcolm Reynolds, who is said to blatantly refuse that the war is over, and intends to keep on fighting until he gets the command from Independent High Control personally."
"If you ask me, Sarai, those Browncoats have more things wrong with them than just not standing down. Anyone with half a brain can see Unification is the way to go."
"I couldn't agree more, Alaisender. And after this commercial break, reporter Hawise Wit journeys to--"
"River, why are you watching this?" With a snap of his fingers, the cortex screen blackened. "It's past your bedtime."
River turned, a mutinous glare on her face. "Mother said that I could stay up to watch the news, Simon."
"Yes, and you got your news," Simon retorted. "You heard about the war ending, that's great but you don't need to hear about some new resort moon. So bed, now."
"If Father was here, he wouldn't make me go."
Simon rolled his eyes, and hefted his eleven year old sister to her feet with one hand, the other preoccupied with holding his dissertation. "Father isn't here, and neither is Mother. You have your older brother, and he says bed."
"Can I hear a story, Simon?" River's eyes filled with liquid excitement, making it impossible for him to refuse.
"Oh alright, but only if you get to bed within the next five minutes."
"Okay!"
--
"-- There are reports of brigades still fighting, most notably that of Sergeant Malcolm Reynolds--"
"Can you just shut that off," she snapped, a rarity for she never snapped at anyone. Not clientele, not her sisterhood, not even her family growing up. "Please," she added softening her tone and letting her dress slip down her shoulder just a little, for assurance.
Her client stared at her. "I'm sorry, do you not support Unification?"
"Of course I do," Inara tossed her hair over her shoulder, intending to look offended and succeeding. "But a war doesn't belong in this place; the consecration of union is about love and acceptance, not fighting.”
“Yes, yes of course,” her client answered.
Inara smiled softly at him. “Would you like some tea?”
--
“--Anyone with half a brain can see Unification is the way to go.”
“Jayne Cobb, you lazy son of a gorram bitch, get up.”
Jayne grunted, and rolled over in response to the kick given to his ribs. “I’m awake.”
“I didn’t ask if you were awake,” the kicker growled. “I told you to get up and you ain’t up if yer still on that floor.”
“Fine, fine, I’m up.” Jayne mumbled, staggering to his feet clumsily. “I’m up so what’s all the fuss about?”
“War’s over,” the other man said gruffly. “Plenty o’dead at Serenity, and even more pockets open for the vultures. Get yer gun, we’re going in now.”
A malicious grin crossed Jayne’s face as he reached for his gun. After giving her a check over, and releasing the safety, he asked, ‘What happens if I find any live ones?”
“Same as always,” the man answered. “Kill ‘em.”
--
“Washbourn, do you copy?”
"I couldn't agree more, Alaisender--“
“Yeah, just one second,” the pilot muttered, flipping switches, and turning dials. “Alright, what do you need?”
“You, at Hera… like yesterday.”
Wash rolled his eyes, fiddling with another dial. “Sorry, I had to stop and refuel on Beaumont.” That wasn’t exactly true. The longer he could put off going to that gorram planet full of the war, and… dead people, the better and if faking a refueling stop was the way to do it, then his conscious was okay with that.
His comm was silent and then, “Just get to Hera.”
“Why the sudden urgency?”
“War’s over, in case you haven’t heard. And there are Independent troops there that need a way off that planet, and you’re that way for at least one hundred of them. More if you can fit.”
Wash grimaced at the thought of one hundred stinking, injured Independent troops on the ship with him. He agreed to be a transport pilot for the Independence because they paid well, and he thought that he would have been transporting supplies, not troops.
“Alright, I should be there at just a little after noon tomorrow,” he said, flipping one last switch.
“God bless you, Washbourn, God bless you.”
“Yeah, sure.”
--
“Preacher?”
“I prefer the term Shepherd,” the aging black man drawled in a soft reassuring voice that only men of God seemed to have.
“Beggin’ yer pardon, Shepherd.” Unsure of what to do, the young girl, no more than the age of fifteen dipped into a clumsy curtsy. “Daddy seys that wer ready for ya,” she cast a timid glance over her shoulder at the wedding party assembled in the shade of the one tree in town. “Anytime yer ready,” she added.
Book watched the young bride go back to her family and future in-laws. This wasn’t exactly what he’d expected when he’d joined the church. But Southdown Abbey had sent him out, to be better know the people he would be leading, and apparently that including marrying a young girl to a man three times her age.
He joined the wedding party just as another young girl, same age as the one being married, started yelling, “The war’s over! Them Browncoats finally surrendered!”
“Yeh sure, gurl?” the father of the bride snarled.
The girl, unlike her counterpart tossed her head proudly, opening defying the older man’s rule. “Course I’m sure,” she retorted. “Just come over the cortex.”
“It’s a good sign, ain’t it, Preacher?” the child bride asked in a soft voice that Book almost didn’t hear her over the sudden clamor from the wedding party.. “I mean, the war endin’ on my weddin’ day, means somethin’ good, right?”
“I hope so,” Book replied, placing a hand on her shoulder. “I do hope so for your sake.”
--
“Kaylee!”
“One mimwut!” With a roll of her eyes, Kaylee chewed her dinner, a simple meal of meat and potatoes, faster.
”Breathe, darlin’,” her mother soothed, laying a soft hand on her only daughter’s shoulder.
Kaylee gave her mother a smile around her mouthful and was about to take the advice when her father bellowed again, “Kaywinnit Lee Frye! Get yer sorry ass out here now!”
She stopped with a forkful halfway to her mouth, and sighed. “I’ll be back in a bit to finish, Mama,” she said, setting the fork down and jumping down from the table.
“Don’t worry about it,” her mother answered, starting to clear the table. “Go see what yer Papa wants.”
“What took yeh so long?” was what her father had to say to her when she finally found him in the shop with a customer.
Kaylee flashed a smile at her father. “I was eatin’ dinner, Papa.”
Her father grunted a response. “How long before yeh can get that engine fixed?” he jerked his thumb at a land rover behind him.
“Not more’n a minute,” Kaylee replied with a bright smile.
“Then get on it, gurl.”
For a moment, Kaylee’s smile drooped, but she managed to hide it by lowering her face and hurrying off to fix the engine as she was told.
“A God send, that gurl,” her father commented to the customer. “What yeh in such a big hurry for, anyway, that you need it fixed now?”
“War’s over,” the customer said simply. “Going to Hera, seeing what I can salvage off the Independents. They’re desperate for money, since the Alliance is demanding war debt payments and they don’t need them guns anymore. Should fetch a good price on the market, and I get can get ‘em dirt cheap now.”
Kaylee gave the wrench in her hand another turn and stood up from the engine. “It’s all fixed,” she said softly, eyes downcast.
“Good girl.”
Comments are love.