Fic: Light Show
Title: Light Show
Rating: G
Disclaimer: CSI belongs to CBS and the Bruckster. Farscape belongs to Rockne and Jim Henson, as well as Sci-Fi. The characters also belong to them, as well as their respective actors. The original characters are mine.
Notes: *Written for the Criss Cross Applesauce challenge at writerverse Inspired by THIS pattern, via a prompt from prompt_in_a_box.
"What's doing that?" Grissom asked, watching out the window of Moya's observation deck. Moya was currently stopped in the middle of a star cluster, waiting for a solar storm to pass. Within the cluster, a thousand small lights were pulsing at random intervals, like twinkling Christmas lights on a delay.
"The sound vibrations," Pilot's voice replied over the comms. "With each vibration," he explained, "the crystals within the cloud react." The colors in front of him were mesmerizing, and had Grissom been thinking, he might have gone for a camera.
"Is it sound from Moya?" Grissom asked, forcing himself to look up to the clamshell, though Pilot's visual interface was currently malfunctioning thanks for the storm. "Or us talking?"
"It is highly unlikely that the crystals are tuned enough to hear our voices, Gilbert." Grissom turned back toward the lightshow and wondered if there was any way to get a sample of whatever was causing the reaction.
"Any slower," he heard, turning to see Crichton sauntering onto the deck, "and they'd be fireflies." Grissom raised an eyebrow, to which Crichton explained: "Looks like firefly butts. Light up, fade out, light up, fade out. Thought you were the bug guy," he finished, sitting on the ledge and opening his notebook.
"I know how fireflies work," Grissom replied. "But I would rather know how those work."
"Not sure we have the equipment on board to catch a star, Griss."
Rating: G
Disclaimer: CSI belongs to CBS and the Bruckster. Farscape belongs to Rockne and Jim Henson, as well as Sci-Fi. The characters also belong to them, as well as their respective actors. The original characters are mine.
Notes: *Written for the Criss Cross Applesauce challenge at writerverse Inspired by THIS pattern, via a prompt from prompt_in_a_box.
"What's doing that?" Grissom asked, watching out the window of Moya's observation deck. Moya was currently stopped in the middle of a star cluster, waiting for a solar storm to pass. Within the cluster, a thousand small lights were pulsing at random intervals, like twinkling Christmas lights on a delay.
"The sound vibrations," Pilot's voice replied over the comms. "With each vibration," he explained, "the crystals within the cloud react." The colors in front of him were mesmerizing, and had Grissom been thinking, he might have gone for a camera.
"Is it sound from Moya?" Grissom asked, forcing himself to look up to the clamshell, though Pilot's visual interface was currently malfunctioning thanks for the storm. "Or us talking?"
"It is highly unlikely that the crystals are tuned enough to hear our voices, Gilbert." Grissom turned back toward the lightshow and wondered if there was any way to get a sample of whatever was causing the reaction.
"Any slower," he heard, turning to see Crichton sauntering onto the deck, "and they'd be fireflies." Grissom raised an eyebrow, to which Crichton explained: "Looks like firefly butts. Light up, fade out, light up, fade out. Thought you were the bug guy," he finished, sitting on the ledge and opening his notebook.
"I know how fireflies work," Grissom replied. "But I would rather know how those work."
"Not sure we have the equipment on board to catch a star, Griss."