milliways_bar | (no subject)

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Mal is physically feeling better since the last time he was in the bar.

Mentally, not so much.

But at least he has his ~~present for Kaylee~~ knitting to work on.

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Mal laughs.

"Don't think they taught us that in Basic. Nah, I got a pair o' needles for my birthday from Raven, 'n it...gives me somethin' to do, I suppose."

Aeryn nodded.

"I understand. I'm learning to fly the sims, to stave off the boredom."

Simswhatwherehuh?

Mal's slightly more articulate when he asks out loud, "The bar's got simulators here now?"

"Flight simulators." Aeryn explained. "For something called x-wings. Not as advanced as my Prowler, but different."

Mal gives a short shrug. "Ain't got X-Wings in my 'verse neither. Might have to check 'em out I suppose. My flyin' ain't what it used to be."

Considering he was never very good in the first place, practice might be a good thing.

"You aren't a pilot. You're a leader." Aeryn pointed out quietly.

"When you can fly one thing, everything else is easy." Easy wasn't exactly the right word, more easier.

Mal's mouth twitches a smile at Aeryn's matter-of-fact statement. Indeed.

"I don't know about that, miss. Maybe landcraft, but not in my experience has knowin' one boat affected my complete loss of understanding on another."

"Don't become a pilot." Aeryn suggested with grim humor.

A grin. "Weren't plannin' on it. Wash'd kill me with his crutch, really."

"Wash? Your pilot?" She enquired, quietly.

"Is he any good?"

Mal looks straight at Aeryn.

"Best I'm ever hopin' to meet."

"Flying is in the blood. You can't fight it." It was perhaps cryptic of her to say so, but she could be strange like that.

Regret flitted across her face. It was quite possible she never thought she'd stop. Just a monen or so. Then you can fly again.

"No you can't."

"Once, Wash told me that he could...listen to 'er. My ship, I mean. I can fly 'er, but I can't hear whatever he hears."

"With me, it's more like feeling. Instinct."

Beat.

"I was never trained to fly in atmosphere. Is he?"

Mal nods.

"Don't think he likes it much, but he knows how to for sure - my ship's a land-to-space and back, so he's got to be able to handle 'er both ways."

"I land my Prowler on planets, but that only takes a quart of an arn. No heavy flying involved."

She tilted her head.

"What is she called?" She was referring to the ship and not some invented crew member.

"Serenity. Firefly-class."

Aeryn nodded, none of it meaning anything to her.

"I was aboard a Leviathan class. Moya, she was called. She produced an offspring, named Talyn."

Blink.

Blinkblink.

"Your ship...had a baby?"

"Yes." She caught sight of his expression.

"It's not that uncommon for a Leviathan to give birth. It was a shock, him being part gunship, but..." She trailed off, stopping the babble before it could get too far ahead.

"Boats...don't give birth in my 'verse, really. Ain't fully alive like that."

That doesn't mean Mal doesn't see his ship as alive somehow, but not in the procreating kind of way.

"Most Peacekeepers ship aren't either. Prowlers, no." Aeryn explained, gesturing to further it along.

"But Moya is a Leviathan a bio-mechanoid ship. She feels things just like you and I and her Pilot feels everything too. He is linked to her."

Something about the way she said Pilot might have given him the feeling that she wasn't talking about someone like Wash.

Mal does get that feeling, yes. He's not necessarily the type to try and figure things out like that either, though.

"My 'verse is a long way off from that kind o' tech though, Miss."

"It's not technology. Nature created it."

There was a hint of anger in her voice now.

"The Peacekeepers just enslaved it."

Mal notes the anger.

It kind of sounds like Browncoat Bitterness(TM).

Mal turns back to his knitting, and says nothing.

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just-a-soldier.livejournal.com - 2005-12-20 01:51 (UTC) - Expand

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