Title: When Worlds Collide
Author:
maddie_amberRating: PG
Disclaimer: Stargate belongs to Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer Studios Inc., no infringements of any rights is intended.
Spoilers: None
Prompt for the Round: Write any story featuring any characters you want, from any fandom you want, including SG1. At least two characters from SGA must appear and at least one from any other show.
WHEN WORLDS COLLIDE by
maddie_amber “If the trade talks go sour, we clear out as quickly as possible,” Sheppard whispered to Woolsey while he smiled at the thugs on either side of Atlantis’ commanding officer. Woolsey straightened his tie, smoothed an invisible wrinkle from his suit coat and nodded. The town’s elders had restricted the Atlantis negotiating party to two members.
Sheppard watched warily as Woolsey’s ‘official’ escort accompanied him into the audience chamber. Scanning the crowded room Sheppard noticed a heavily cloaked man casually leaning against the opposite wall. His sandy brown hair, fair skin and handsome features a sharp contrast to the swarthy coloring of the native population. The man continued to scrutinize the room for several minutes before he pushed away from the wall and approached. Sheppard tensed, ready for any hostile action.
The stranger smiled, “The locals told me you travelled through the ‘ancestor’s ring.’” The greeting was congenial but cautious.
Sheppard nodded affirmatively.
“Then maybe you can help me.”
“Depends on what you need.”
“About a month ago, I came through that stone ring out in the field a half kilometer from town. Have no clue how to get back to where I came from.”
“You don’t know how you came through the Stargate, the ring?” Sheppard asked warily.
“No.” The man shrugged. “My away team had been investigating a similar ring we discovered on a planet, uh, far away from here. I was beaming, I mean, traveling back to my ship just as the ring activated. As near as I can tell I was caught it some sort of vortex when the two energy fields mixed. I ended up here. You’re the most technologically advanced people I’ve encountered since I arrived. When I saw the Doc I hoped you guys could help me. Do I make any sense?”
Before Sheppard could answer an explosion rocked the street outside followed by screams of the wounded and the whine of a Wraith dart. The concussion from the blast crumbled the exterior wall and knocked the young man into him. Sheppard felt a sharp bite as shrapnel burrowed into his shoulder and his arm went numb. Through the dust and debris, Sheppard saw the first Wraith as more explosions shattered the street outside. He fumbled one-handed for his weapon, then propped his P90 on a remnant of masonry and fired till the Wraith dropped. A second entered and he did the same. “Woolsey…” he bellowed. A third Wraith dropped under his barrage.
“What does it take to kill these guys?” the stranger shouted coughing as he breathed the choking cloud of dust.
“A lot of fire power.”
Through the din of gunfire Sheppard heard the man mumble “Sorry, Captain.” And something that sounded like “exception to the prime directive” as he reached under his heavy cloak. From the corner of his eye Sheppard glimpsed a shiny emblem on the man’s chest, before he brought out a rifle that rivaled anything Ronon had ever fired. With a single blast the man eliminated the next Wraith.
“Is that Satedan?” Sheppard grunted.
The man looked puzzled then said, “Compression phaser rifle.”
“Don’t let Ronon see it.”
“Ronon?”
“A friend. Who likes big guns.”
They continued firing at the incoming Wraith the other man’s weapon efficient and deadly. Through the haze of airborne debris Woolsey appeared at their side, covered with fine white dust, but unharmed.
“He’s wounded, Doc.” The man said to Woolsey.
Sheppard ignored the comment and his wound. “Time to go,” he said.
With the stranger’s rifle clearing a path they fought their way to where the cloaked puddle jumper was hidden. Stumbling inside, the hatch hissed closed muting the sounds of battle.
“Thanks,” Sheppard mumbled slumping against a wall.
“Do you think you can you fly?” Woolsey asked Sheppard
“Yes,” both men answered simultaneously and the blond man added, “I’ll fly. You patch him up, Doc.”
“Who are you?” asked Woolsey, “And why do you keep calling me ‘Doc’?”
“I’m the best pilot you could have. You are an emergency medical hologram.” The man paused then held out his hand. “Paris,” he said “Tom Paris. Assigned to the USS Voyager.”
“Navy?” Woolsey questioned.
“Uh, Federation.”
“Right,” Sheppard groaned, “and that would make me Jim Kirk.”
“Actually, the history books say Kirk had lighter hair, and weighed a bit more.”
(end)
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