Fic: Twice In A Lifetime 1/6 StarGate: Atlantis/BattleStar Galactica
Title: Twice In A Lifetime Author: Lopaka Tanu Disclaimer: I do not own BattleStar Galactica or StarGate: Atlantis. Characters: Gaeta, Lorne, Caldwell, Sheppard, Weir, Rodney, Woolsey Hermiod, Carson, Teyla, and Kate Heightmeyer. Words: 23,232 Prompt: Galactica jumps to alien planet, is destroyed. SGA rescues. Fandom: StarGate: Atlantis/BattleStar Galactica Pairing: Pre-Lorne/Gaeta Rating: Teen Warnings: Language, Violence, Character Deaths. Summary: After rescuing a group of strangers from a debris field, Lorne and the rest of Atlantis become embroiled in a three millennia old mystery that leaves them asking who can they trust. Author's Note: More SGA style than BSG, which means it tends to be humorously bad in parts. Spoilers: BSG 2x09; SGA 3x06 ______________________________________ Prologue. Tapping Out Signals.
Rubbing at his eyes, Felix reached up with the towel to wipe clear his mirror. Even as he did this, he felt more steam come rolling across the cold tiled deck from the communal showers. It would fog the mirror again in no time, but all he needed was a second to see his face.
The bags under his eyes gave his face a bruised look. Seeing his sunken features made him sigh. Too many nights on almost no sleep were going to end up killing him. Probably sooner rather than later.
At least then he wouldn't have to worry about making a mistake with his calculations that could kill them all.
Smirking, Gaeta checked to make sure the wild curls were tamed enough that his hair wouldn't fall in his face. It was in definite need of a cut, but who had the time? Between fixing the damage and keeping the systems that still worked operational, he barely had time to eat.
When his image clouded over again, Felix suddenly felt too tired to continue. His body felt so heavy that just turning his head took a monumental effort. Everything about him seemed to slow down, even the noises.
The part of his brain that still functioned recognized the effect instantly. Slowly, the rest of the people around him caught on. By then, it was too late to do anything about it.
Felix blinked as the bottom fell out of his stomach. Then time sped up back to reality so fast that it slammed in to him. Instantly, he felt like a weight had been lifted from him and he could breathe once more.
Swallowing back his stomach, Gaeta tried to keep its contents down. No one hated the feeling of a FTL jump more than him. He was the guy who knew how it worked. He was the one who plotted most of the jumps. He was the one who knew all the possible variations a mistake could cause.
Less than a heartbeat later, he was shaken from his thoughts as klaxons blared indicating an attack. He was thrown backwards when the ship trembled from an impact. Overhead, the lights flickered.
Alarm spread through the showering crew. Their voices rose as the deck rocked under them.
Knocked to the deck, Felix's thoughts turned to getting out of there and finding out what the situation was. To that end he looked towards the hatch. In the flickering light, he saw a woman sprawled out in front it.
Blood had begun to pool around her head. It flowed freely from a crack in the back of her skull. Whoever she was, it was obvious she was now dead.
The ship shook again, groaning from multiple impacts. A particularly strong blast blew the lights.
As the water stopped flowing behind him, a new type of sound filled the chamber. Even through the hatch a rushing sound became noticable.
All eyes went wide as they realized instantly what this meant. The hull beyond there compartment had been breached. They were all trapped inside the lockerroom.
Closing his eyes, Felix let his sore head fall back against the tiles.
____________________________ Part 1. About Damned Time.
"Two minutes until normal space."
"Very good." The words were almost an after thought to him by now. Sitting in the Commander's chair, Lorne dropped his chin back to the fist he had been resting it on.
After a month, all of it was very routine. They hadn't even woken the Colonel for the last pick up. Now would be no different it seemed.
Turning his chair, he glanced over to the Conn. and the lieutenant manning it. "Ship's status?"
Tapping on her controls, she smiled at nothing in particular. "All systems are checking in at above ninety-five percent efficency. Engineering reports nothing out of the ordinary." She finished with a glance up at him. Her expression clearly indicated that it wasn't the readouts she was happy about.
"Ninety-five percent?" He grimaced at her nod. Things were slacking off. "Tell them to get them back up to above ninety-eight before the Colonel gets up or you'll be down there to ensure they do it personally."
This caused the lieutenant to stare at him in alarm. Swallowing, she put on her most professional expression. "The secondary drive generators are down for maintenance, sir. The inefficiency is due to this. There is no need for me to get involved."
Lorne barely managed to keep the smile off his face. He knew very well exactly why she didn't want to go down there. It was a pest to anyone who faced it, all three feet of him.
A small alarm triggered by the timer drew Lorne's attention to the main screen. Sitting up in his chair, he automatically adjusted the front of his uniform. "Take us out of hyperspace now, Lieutenant."
"Aye, sir." Lieutenant Conners' fingers flew over the Helm controls. "Exiting hyperspace in three, two, now!"
Feeling the gentle shake of the shift back in to normal space, Lorne braced himself. Flying out of his seat once was annoying enough. The old models would have relied heavily upon the Goa'uld designed drives, which had no inertial dampeners. Thank god for the Asgard.
As it was a second later the ship shook hard. Alarms across the bridge rang out. One small console behind the Command chair exploded.
"Shields up!" Lorne winced as sparks showered down over him. "Report!"
"Deploying Asgard shields." The Conn. started to chime as the Lieutenant activated several systems readouts. "Minor damage to the primary hull. Secondary hull intact. We hit something coming out of hyperspace, sir."
"What kind of something?" Out of the corner of his eye, Lorne saw the Helm Officer frantically adjust his controls.
"It's debris, sir." Frowning, Connors fought to control his console. "Our path is full of it. We exited out of hyperspace in the middle of a debris field."
"Scanning for what type." The Conn. Officer bit her lower lip in concentration. What she found made her pause. "Sir, I'm not recognizing these metallic molecular signatures. The database doesn't know what they are from either."
That drew Lorne's attention to the main screen once more. "How big is it?"
"Several thousand kilometers. There's more than one too..." The Conn beeped, drawing the Lieutenant's attention to something else. "Sir, I'm detecting an advanced radioactive particle count. Someone's used nuclear weapons in this system recently."
Thinking quickly, Lorne went over the options in his mind. There was one item that took priority though. "Someone alert the Colonel. Tell him we have a type four situation on our hands." He couldn't seem to draw his eyes away from the debris field. "Scan for survivors."
"Already on it, sir." Another alert drew her attention from her current scans. Gritting her teeth, she activated the window. She barely had time to draw in a breath to gasp over what she saw before it was announced for her.
"Wraith!" Connor's shout echoed in the bridge. He brought the image up on the main screen.
Magnifying, the screen focused on a single image at the edge of the debris field. Still sparking, half of a Wraith Cruiser drifted lazily towards a blue planet.
There was no doubt for Lorne in identifying it despite the significant damage. "We'll, now we know the other side of the story."
~~~~~~~~~~
"Report!" Storming on to the bridge, Colonel Caldwell looked directly to the man standing in front of his chair.
Back straight, Lorne saluted the Colonel. "We came out of hyperspace in to a debris field. We believe it to have been a ship. Configuration and make unknown." He amazed himself with how normal that had sounded coming from his lips. That meant he was definitely spending way to much time in Star Ship land.
"Hostiles?" Caldwell returned the salute, then walked around the command console to his chair. Sitting down, he kept his eye on the Major but focused more on the main screen.
Lorne turned to the Conn. officer for confirmation. "Scans indicate there were at least five Wraith Cruisers, over a hundred Darts, and one Hive ship." Sensing the other's surprise, Lorne nodded. "The opposing fleet consisted of nearly as many ships."
The news made the Colonel sigh. "I take it from your tone there were no survivors?"
Lieutenant Connors cleared his throat. "I apologize, sir, but the scans are not yet complete." Unwilling to draw his attention away from the console, he continued to bring up new scan results. "The molecular configuration of the debris makes it almost impossible to get an accurate reading on a simple surface scan. I'm having to scan kilometer by kilometer, sir."
Pride at his officer's response shown on Caldwell's face. "Very good, Lieutenant." Turning back to Lorne, he sat back in his chair. "Damage report?"
"Minor damage to the outer hull. The secondary hull is holding, though." Moving around so he could see the Conn's readouts, Lorne checked the systems for himself. "A damage repair crew is already suited up and on the hull fixing her."
"Good, glad to see that the ship doesn't completely fall apart when I leave the bridge." Letting his humor sink in, Caldwell refocused all his attention on the main screen. What he saw didn't sit well with him.
This was the part that Lorne hated about being on a ship instead of a SG team. Most of the time was spent waiting. That was something they didn't reveal in all those old television shows.
So, bored, he occupied his time by watching the Conn. officer work. After the hundredth scan log he had to stop watching. Blinking didn't stop the aching in his retinas. He didn't know how the nerds did it, but probably understood now why they needed glasses.
Lorne was in the middle of his third blink when an alert beeped from the helm control. He glanced over in time to see the Lieutenant's head shoot up.
"Sir," she had a big smile, "I think I found something."
~~~~~~~~~~
Bumping against the sink, Felix came awake with a start. His jerk caused him to drift away slowly. His body began to rotate at a thirty degree angle to the deck. In the dim emergency lights he could see that his body wasn't the only thing drifting in the zero gravity.
Round globs of a dark fluid orbited the body by the hatch.
He distantly was aware of what had happened. The ship had to have suffered a catastrophic failure of the power grid for the gravity to fail. In order for that to have happened, the engine room must have taken a direct hit. The ship was probably in several pieces by now.
A sick feeling curled in his gut. He knew without a shred of doubt that everyone was dead. They few in this shower were the only survivors.
The outer limits of his extremities suddenly started to ache, drawing his attention. Either the air was becoming carbon toxic or the temperature was well below tolerable limits. He couldn't remember which it meant. Didn't matter which one. They were dead both ways.
They? Felix frowned over that thought. Forcing himself to pay attention, he listened for the sounds of life.
There, it was faint, but he could hear breathing. There were other people alive in the chamber. Not that it mattered for much longer.
Felix hoped for their sakes that they never woke up. It was better this way.
Closing his eyes, he decided to let himself drift off. If he was lucky, he would be unconscious before he felt any real pain. That was a happier thought than...he wasn't sure. Confusion clouded his mind and made it difficult to think.
He was halfway to sleeping when something caught his attention. It was a flare in the lighting, nothing more. Still, something in his mind sparked and he opened his eyes.
There, against the far bulkhead beyond the sinks, something. Several some things. There were several some things in suits.
Turning his head, Felix stared at them. The suits were a garish orange that made his oxygen starved brain hurt. His eyes couldn't stay focused for very long and thus, he thought they might be a hallucination.
One moved. It raised an appendage to aim the beams of its flashlights.
Felix winced when the lights landed on him. A couple more of the figures pointed their lights at him. He heard something that sounded like the crack of a radio but couldn't make it out. It didn't matter, the lights were painful.
Feeling annoyed at their rudeness, he turned away from it. Moving was easy, one never forgot how to move in neutral gravity environments. Slowly flaring his arms, he flung himself down towards the deck. This caused his body to shoot down beside the sinks, dragging him out of range of the lights. Finally, he was at peace.
Closing his eyes, Felix took a calm breath. It was probably deadly, but at least he could die in peace with everyone else.
Several crackles came from the radios. It almost sounded like voices. They were asking questions.
For illusions, they were certainly noisy. And bright. He felt the lights upon him a second time.
Some how, they had come around the sinks without him realizing it. Opening his eyes revealed to him that there were four of them moving. They were coming for him.
Felix panicked. He kicked out to drive himself back towards the showers. He wasn't fast enough as one caught his leg. Twirling, he tried to break free by kicking the owner of the hand.
"What the hell?" It was definitely a man's voice, despite the crackle of the radio.
Opening his eyes, Felix glared at him. "Let go." He shook his head slowly from side to side. "Just let me go back to sleep." Peaceful numbness in his mind seemed to agree with his words.
Unfortunately, the owner of the hand had other ideas. "Hang on. We're here to save you."
Some how he summoned up the strength to snort. "It doesn't matter. Save yourselves." His chest wheezed with the next breath. Definitely CO2 poisoning. "We are the last." He didn't know where that had come from or why it was important.
"It's okay. You're going to be okay." The man must not have heard him.
Suddenly, it was imperative for the man to understand. Opening his eyes wide, Felix tried to curl his body. He barely moved, but that was enough to get the man's attention. "No! They destroyed our colonies. Six...six billion. Machines!" Out of breath, Felix couldn't do manage to say anymore.
"What is he rambling about, sir?" It was a woman, she sounded more annoyed than curious.
"I don't know exactly." The man gave Felix's leg a squeeze. "Sounds like the wraith got his people."
Coughing, Felix shook his head. This fool was going to get his people killed if he wasn't corrected. "Cylons!" Coughing again, he felt something in his lungs burst. "Cylons! Machines!"
The man held up something that glowed in Felix's direction. "His biosigns are weakening. We have to get them out of here now!" Aiming around the compartment, his hiss was loud over the suit's speakers. "Shit! This air is fifteen percent carbon dioxide. Grab the survivors and beam back now!"
Felix wanted to protest against whatever they were planning but felt himself slip under. With a sigh of relief, he let go.
~~~~~~~~~~
Moving the control stones across his panel, Hermiod monitored the output from the hyperdrive diagnostics. It was a very distressing process. The human systems were barely compatible with them as it was. One flaw and they would all end up scattered across the vastness of the Universe.
A slight variance in the output from the primary generator made him close his eyes and sigh. Tilting his head to the side, he adjusted the fuel input matrix equation. That eliminated the variance in a satisfactory manner.
He was about to reach for the next stone when the primitive communication device they had insisted installing in his designated station chirped at him. Head rising, he blinked at in annoyance. One rotation he might actually give in to his baser urge and beam the contemptible device in to the vastness of space.
As it was, he reached over and tapped it with one hand. "Speak, human." In his dealings with these primates, he had learned short, simple commands were best employed. This left very little leeway for their irritating habit of engaging him in entirely useless conversation.
"This is Major Lorne. My team has found survivors. We are holding them. You can lock on to our position and beam all of us on board at any time." The human voice sounded emotionally effected.
"Very well." Reaching for another control stone, Hermiod activated the beaming device. It was a very simple matter, more a control of the mind than programming. That was the part no human had yet to understand or master.
Fifth Race indeed!
Only after he had completed his task did he pause to consider the human's voice. Delegation of tasks and responses was another tactic that humans lacked. His months of listening to these creatures had taught him to understand their emotional inflections.
The Major Lorne had been extremely upset. Curious, Hermiod ran a scan of the chamber that his team had been beamed to. Raising his upper eye-ridges, he gave himself a moment to readjust his impression.
Humans found it exceedingly difficult to deal with the remains of their fellow humans. Given the violent means of expiration for those within the scanned section gave Hermiod new insight. This once he would forgive a human's emotional reaction.
Putting it from his mind, he glanced over the scan log for the beaming device. Later he would give himself time to reflect over his own horrors at the hands of their greatest enemy. The similarities in this situation were not lost on him. Halfway through the cursory glance he stopped.
Frowning, he went back to the top and began to read the entire log over. The results had to be a mistake. Activating the diagnostics program he muttered to himself. Fixing the mistakes caused by these primitive human systems was going to ruin his highly evolved intelligence.