Claimed!! Gimme five minutes...

Claimed!! Gimme five minutes...

…. Mal woke to the sight of his messily-lived in cabin, illuminated by the faint blue glow from the instrument panel just aft of the ladder nook. As he shook the dream-haze from his senses, Mal could hear Wash’s voice through Serenity’s all-ship comm line. The pilot sounded as nervy as a Schrodinger's cat in a box factory. “... but she’s coming up on us fast. I can’t tell what kind of ship she in, but they’re outputting a white noise over all channels. My highly evolved hinky meter is straight off the dial up here.” There was a pause, during which Mal rolled out of his bunk and began fishing for his discarded pants. He was just pulling them on when the ship lurched hard to port, then bobbed in an alarming fashion that Mal had learned to recognize as the grav unit compensated for a hard roll. “Mal!” Wash yelled into comm. “Get up here!”

Shirt and boots forgotten, Mal buttoned and bolted up the cabin ladder for the emergency awaiting him on the bridge.

...."What...what is it?" Mal mumbled, running behind Wash's chair and staring out.
"Captain it's a..." said Wash, before turning around: "Urgh...Captain? You, um..."
"Yes, I know," Mal said absent-mindedly, "I'm not wearing pants. What is it?"
"The ship, oh, um..." said Wash, turning back to the matter at hand, "It's a very strangely designed ship, Captain. Look at it! What kind of a ship designer puts satellites on the sideburners? It's almost as if..."
"You're talking like Kaylee," Mal said, shaking himself awake, "I need Wash. Fly us up to the ship and lemme take a closer look. White screens're white screens 'n can't be changed. It looks 'most like'n Alliance ship, 'cept it's...painted a damn awful color."
The rest of the crew ran up behind them. "Sir?" asked Zoe, speaking first.
"Of course," Wash sighed, "You talk to him first."
"I thought we settled this," grumbled Mal.
Staring at the ship while the others were looking towards the shirtless Mal, Kaylee said:

"What was that turn about for, Wash?"
"'Might scare," Wash replied, "The damn thing flew at us like a lion through a hoop. Just barely dodged it, and yet our marvelous captain here wants us to fly towards it."
"I'm a curious soul," replied Mal, now staring straight, "Besides, there might be some troubles there need sortin'. Don't look like a Reaver problem. No ships attached nor red paint upon it. You go as you're told Wash, or..." he stopped, about to exit: "I'll take yer dinosaurs away. Excuse me as I ready myself for meeting the rest of the crew."
As he left, the white screens and noise plaguing the screens stopped, and a voice came through, rockily: