new SGU fic: Second Unit

Oct 07, 2011 12:23

Title: Second Unit
Author: Shenandoah Risu
Rating: PG-13
Content Flags: ghosts, crack!
Spoilers: SGU through Season 2 "Visitation"
Characters: former Destiny folks
Word Count: 1,174
Summary:  All is quiet again as everybody on the Destiny is going back to work.
Author's Notes: Written for the Spooky Tropes challenge at  stargateland. For wneleh  whose Riley ghost story inspired me.
Disclaimer: I don't own SGU. I wouldn't know what to do with it. Now, Young... Young I'd know what to do with. ;-)
Thanks for reading! Feedback = love.
Please leave comments here at my LJ

oOo

Second Unit

“All right, people, settle down,” Riley’s ghost hollers. Immediately the commotion fades to background noise.

“I’m calling today’s ‘Dead Guys’ meeting to order. Anybody missing?”

“Um, I don’t see Senator Armstrong,” Norris pipes up.

“I’m on my way,” an authoritative voice comes booming from beyond the wall, and then Alan Armstrong shimmers into existence. “Give me a break, all you young whippersnappers. I was three times your age and I had a heart condition when I bought the farm, so it just takes me a little longer to get around.”

Riley nods.

“That’s quite ok, Senator.”

Armstrong huffs and takes a seat and the others take their cue from him and settle down.

“As you know, this is a freaking old bucket of a ship, and as long as we’re haunting it, we have to do our share of the work. We need to think of ourselves as the Second Unit, the ones who take care of everything the first wave can’t handle. So here are today’s assignments…”

Spencer rolls his eyes. “Who put you in charge again, anyway?”

Riley sighs and puts his notepad down, blinking at the bald Marine.

“Because I’m adorable and cute and everybody loves me?”

Rivers and Franklin look at each other and shrug and make affirmative noises.

Caine elbows Simeon who has put up his boots on the next bench.

“What,” the former Lucian Alliance baddie grouses but picks up his feet and then his shoes and puts them back on the floor. “Here, you just dropped this,” Peter says and helpfully hands Simeon the back half of his skull.

Riley shakes his head and clears his throat.

“Okay, Eden folks? Since you guys tend to stick together and you like it warm, how about you give the FTL drive exhausts a little scrub down?”

“We already did that last week,” Kwan mutters and Norris nods.

Caine pats him on his balding head and answers over him: “We’ll be happy to do it again.”

Riley dismisses them and Caine, Norris, Peter and Kwan head for the nearest air vent and make their way to the aft of the ship.

“Sorry I’m late.”

They all stare in shock as Colonel Young appears in the door, a little foggy but solid enough to see.

“Colonel,” Riley sputters. “You’re not-“

“No, no,” Young waves him off, “I’m just his Death Wish. I’m doing pretty well again these days, no small thanks to you, I might add, so I thought I should help out, too.”

“Colonel, I’m-“

Young shakes his head. “He’d do it again if you asked, Riley, you know that.”

Riley blows out a breath. “I do know that. Thank you, Sir.”

Young indicates the note pad. “Gimme something to do.”

“Oh.” Riley checks his list. “Why, there you are, Death Wish. Space suit clean up.”

“Figures. All right - carry on.”

And he turns around and leaves as everyone gapes after him
.
Riley coughs.

“Well. All right. Okay. Whew… Spencer? You’re checking the water tanks.”

“Why do I always get the stupid tanks? Just because I pilfered a little water before I put a bullet through my brain?”

Gorman sighs and waves his hand at a few bug-like creatures buzzing around him. “Come on, Spencer, be a mensch. Tell you what: I’ll do the water tanks if you take whatever job I’ll get.”

Riley points at Spencer. “Pollination duty in hydroponics.”

“Cheese and crackers,” Spencer swears. “Fine, I’ll check the water tanks.” And he trots through the wall to the water compartment.

“What are these things, anyway?” Franklin twirls a finger at Gorman’s head.

“Oh, some of the male bugs that Greer torched. They followed me, after their pals sliced me up.” He swats at them. “Come on, you guys, wanton blossoms await.”

And he zips through the ceiling, bugs in tow.

“Simeon? Latrine recycling cleanup.”

“Ah, right - crap with crap, as usual.”

“You wanna do the air ducts instead?”

Simeon’s face falls. He gives Riley a vitriolic look but finally slouches off towards the septic tanks, holding on to the back of his head.

Michaels and Henderson exchange looks and whisper something.

“You two? Don’t worry, I’ll keep you away from him, since he killed you once already. You need to go check on Brody’s still, see why it’s been slowing down so much.”

“Yes!” Michaels pumps his fist, then high-fives Henderson.

“Not so fast,” Riley holds up a hand. “If it’s the water supply you need to check on the mess hall, too. Make some gurgling noises in a few pipes, maybe.”

Henderson shrugs and gets up and Franklin surreptitiously points at the floor.

“Oops, sorry,” Henderson mutters, stuffs his small intestine back into his belly and sneaks out after Michaels.

“Senator, Chloe’s been having a bit of a hard time, what with the alien transformation and all.”

Armstrong nods sagely.

“Maybe you could do a little dream appearance? Daddy-daughter pep talk?”

“I’ll do that, son,” the older man rubs his hands. “Anything else?”

Riley checks his list.

“Ms Wray seems a little depressed today, trying to figure out the crew rotation. Perhaps you could give her some ideas. Shake things up a little.”

“A boo or two?”

“My thoughts exactly.”

Armstrong groans as he gets up and Rivers gives him a friendly boost. “I’m all right,” he mutters and meanders down the hall towards the crew quarters.

“Dannick? They tried to clean up the spot where you bled out on the floor but they couldn’t manage. So, would you please give it a whirl, since it’s your blood.”

Dannick grunts. “Why doesn’t Ginn do that? She shot me, the little twit.”

Riley pinches the bridge of his nose. “Dannick…”

“All right, all right…”

And he takes a deep breath and disappears.

“Curtis, you need to help out in the armory, polish some ammunition and stuff, check weapons.”

“Will do,” Curtis salutes, gets up and falls over.

“Yo, Curtis,” Rivers says and hands him his leg. “Forgot something.”

“I broke my stupid leg the second I stepped through the gate,” Curtis explains at Riley’s puzzled look.

“Thanks, dude.” And he puts the leg back into place and fades through the floor and away.

“Franklin, how’s the power issue?”

“OK, mostly. Still a little staticky on occasion,” Franklin sighs and promptly frizzes out a few times. “There, see?”

“You feel up to keeping Rush company today?”

“I guess. Is the wife gonna be there again?”

“Let me check.”

Riley rifles through his notes.

“Nope, she’s taking minutes at the ‘Dead Chicks’ assembly today.”

“OK then,” Franklin yawns. “I’m gone.” And seconds later, he is.

“And me?” Rivers asks.

“You and I get to check the air ducts.”

“Oh goody,” Rivers whines.

“Come on. It’ll be fun. We can start with the ones near the engine room. Lisa’s working there today.”

Rivers brightens visibly.

“Let’s go.”

They wink out.

Seconds later Riley’s arm makes an encore appearance and picks up the note pad.

And all is quiet again as everybody on the Destiny is going back to work.

chloe armstrong, jeremy franklin, robert caine, ginn, sgu fic, alan armstrong, sgt. curtis, sgu characters, author: shena8, hunter riley, nicholas rush, destiny, sgt. spencer, aliens, crack!, simeon, camile wray, gloria rush, everett young

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