(no subject)
Oh, and wait, I found this when I was saving the one I just posted. Two seperate scenes from one story, SG-1/Farscape crossover.
He seemed more serious here, walking these alien halls, Sam thought. She’d known him a while, been friends with him ever since that first hospital visit. She’d only rarely seen anything but a lighthearted, if extremely determined, man.
But here, he was different. Not just more serious, but more pared-down, as if he let go of all extraneous material, all the things that didn’t mean anything. As if this, this alien ship, unlike anything they’d ever seen before, was his home.
If it was, it was a beautiful one. The walls were gold and bronze, and it reminded her a little of the inside of a Goa’uld ship, but so much more elegant, and somehow… warm. The pulse of the ship around her felt alive, as if this giant machine knew her, accepted her, wanted her here.
Or knew Cam, at least. He pressed fingertips lightly to the walls, trailing them along as he walked as if he couldn’t bear to lose contact. The doors opened for them as they approached, and every single time it happened Cam smiled like he was being given a gift he’d long forgotten.
They stopped in the control room or bridge, staring out the huge, sweeping front window at the space beyond. The little yellow robot-things (DRD’s, Cam said knowledgeably. Don’t shoot them. They’re part of the ship.) rolled up to them, and pricked them painfully in the ankle.
(You’re gonna have to get the microbes, to talk to pilot, Cam said. What microbes? Sam had asked, since alien microbes usually led to bad things. The translator kind, Cam said. You’re gonna like this, Jackson. They’re like a babel fish, only less creepy.)
Cam stroked his fingers over the console, as tenderly as one would touch a lover. “Pilot,” he said.
“Yes, Commander Crichton,” a cultured voice responded. A viewscreen opened, and they all took a step back at the purple-ish, helmeted, multi-armed creature they saw. They’d seen him before, of course, on the comm channel Cam had opened from the Prometheus, but it was still a shock.
“Permission to come up?”
“You never have to ask,” Pilot said, sounding reproving. “This is your home.”
“Yeah, it is, isn’t it?” The viewscreen closed and Crichton took a deep breath, then turned to them, spreading his arms, smiling so widely his face had to hurt. “SG-1,” he said, as seriously as he would to a visiting king. “Welcome to Moya.”
“What’s going on?” Daniel asked. Sam was kinda amazed that he’d reined in his curiosity this long, but this ship was so amazing, so absolutely beyond anything they’d ever seen. All the wonders of the universe they’d seen so far, and they’d never, ever found something like this. Wonder had held them fast in its grip, wonder and a stupid sort of shock that Cam was at home here, that his name wasn’t Cam, that he had a whole new life that no one on Earth could ever imagine.
“About fifteen years ago, I was working for NASA,” Cam said. “I did a shuttle flight to prove a scientific theory, and ended up accidentally opening a wormhole to another galaxy.”
“My God,” Sam said, staring at him. She should have known, as soon as she’d hear the name, but… “John Crichton,” she said. “We used readings obtained from your last moments in our initial Stargate equations.”
Cameron- no, John, John Crichton- shrugged as if it was nothing. “It was totally accidental,” he assured her. “I ended up here, on this ship. Made friends. Went through a lot of adventures. Fell in love.” He smiled slightly. “Got married, had a kid. Almost destroyed the universe to stop a galaxy-wide war. Lived happily ever after, until I died and made a deal with some Ancients.”
“They sent you home,” Daniel said, awe in his voice. “They Ascended you and took you home.”
“Different Ancients, sorry, Jackson,” Crichton said. “These guys didn’t look human, they looked… well, a little like the Asgard in shape, but… Doesn’t matter. They invented wormhole tech without the Stargate, and they were the ones that sorted it in my head. After what I’d done with the wormhole weapon, when I died, well, they decided I maybe deserved a second chance. They sent me home, rewrote a fuck of a lot of history, and then left me with both sets of memories. I’ve been working towards a position on an SG team ever since.”
“So you could come home,” Teal’c murmured. Sam had almost forgotten he was there, he could be that quiet. It didn’t mean he wasn’t listening. Or that he didn’t understand.
“So I could come home,” Crichton agreed. “Which I did. And now I’m taking you to meet the parents.”
“I can’t believe this,” Daniel said, running his hands over the book in his hands. “Just days ago, I could barely translate one word out of ten.”
Crichton grinned at him from where he stood, leaning against the door frame and watching him. “And now?”
“I can read it,” Daniel. He knew he sounded like an awestruck little kid, but he couldn’t help it. That’s what he felt like. He felt like he’d just opened the Stargate again. “I can read all of it. Jesus, Crichton, do you know what kind of gift this is?” The name felt odd on his tongue, but it suited him in a way Cameron Mitchell never had.
“Not really,” Crichton said. “I mean, I was a man of action in both lives, you know? Translatin’ was never really my thing.”
“This is like solving the meaning of life,” Daniel breathed, looking down at the books in his hands. “This is… To me, this is everything.”
“Then I’m glad I could have given it to you,” Crichton said. “Or rather, that Moya could. She’s pretty confused as to why you care so much. It’s sort of universal, in her galaxy.”
“I can’t even imagine,” Daniel said. “A world with no language barriers? The possibilities are endless.”
“Don’t get your hopes up too high,” Crichton said, his voice harsh. “I almost destroyed the universe to stop a war that people managed despite being able to talk to each other. Human nature is still human nature, even when you’re not human, and it doesn’t matter what language you speak.”
“I read through the database for you, you know,” Daniel said. “Moya was very helpful in providing it.”
Crichton managed to go frighteningly tense without moving a single relaxed muscle. Jack had had the knack of that, too. It was just as disconcerting on him. “Say anything fun?” Crichton said lightly, as if he hadn’t just been talking about destroying the universe.
“You’re a hero,” Daniel said. “You have a holiday named after you, one that’s celebrated on every planet in the galaxy, even out in the Uncharted Territories. You had a wife named Aeryn Sun, a son named Dhargo, for a Luxan warrior who died in the last battle. You lived on Moya for ten years after the last battle before you died. She considers you her Commander, though Leviathans have none beyond their Pilot, and she trusts and loves you enough to find Earth’s galaxy after your death and transfer, in the faint hope that she could get you back.” Daniel paused to smile at him. “That tells me more than enough, right there.”
Crichton didn’t say anything. Daniel continued.
“You’ve been letting us treat you like the new kid on the block, even though you’ve been way more out there than we ever have.”
“Don’t get too impressed,” Crichton advised. “It was mostly me being in the right place at the right time. You lot actually try to save the universe. All I’ve ever wanted to do was go home.”
“Yeah,” Daniel said. “I know the feeling.”
He seemed more serious here, walking these alien halls, Sam thought. She’d known him a while, been friends with him ever since that first hospital visit. She’d only rarely seen anything but a lighthearted, if extremely determined, man.
But here, he was different. Not just more serious, but more pared-down, as if he let go of all extraneous material, all the things that didn’t mean anything. As if this, this alien ship, unlike anything they’d ever seen before, was his home.
If it was, it was a beautiful one. The walls were gold and bronze, and it reminded her a little of the inside of a Goa’uld ship, but so much more elegant, and somehow… warm. The pulse of the ship around her felt alive, as if this giant machine knew her, accepted her, wanted her here.
Or knew Cam, at least. He pressed fingertips lightly to the walls, trailing them along as he walked as if he couldn’t bear to lose contact. The doors opened for them as they approached, and every single time it happened Cam smiled like he was being given a gift he’d long forgotten.
They stopped in the control room or bridge, staring out the huge, sweeping front window at the space beyond. The little yellow robot-things (DRD’s, Cam said knowledgeably. Don’t shoot them. They’re part of the ship.) rolled up to them, and pricked them painfully in the ankle.
(You’re gonna have to get the microbes, to talk to pilot, Cam said. What microbes? Sam had asked, since alien microbes usually led to bad things. The translator kind, Cam said. You’re gonna like this, Jackson. They’re like a babel fish, only less creepy.)
Cam stroked his fingers over the console, as tenderly as one would touch a lover. “Pilot,” he said.
“Yes, Commander Crichton,” a cultured voice responded. A viewscreen opened, and they all took a step back at the purple-ish, helmeted, multi-armed creature they saw. They’d seen him before, of course, on the comm channel Cam had opened from the Prometheus, but it was still a shock.
“Permission to come up?”
“You never have to ask,” Pilot said, sounding reproving. “This is your home.”
“Yeah, it is, isn’t it?” The viewscreen closed and Crichton took a deep breath, then turned to them, spreading his arms, smiling so widely his face had to hurt. “SG-1,” he said, as seriously as he would to a visiting king. “Welcome to Moya.”
“What’s going on?” Daniel asked. Sam was kinda amazed that he’d reined in his curiosity this long, but this ship was so amazing, so absolutely beyond anything they’d ever seen. All the wonders of the universe they’d seen so far, and they’d never, ever found something like this. Wonder had held them fast in its grip, wonder and a stupid sort of shock that Cam was at home here, that his name wasn’t Cam, that he had a whole new life that no one on Earth could ever imagine.
“About fifteen years ago, I was working for NASA,” Cam said. “I did a shuttle flight to prove a scientific theory, and ended up accidentally opening a wormhole to another galaxy.”
“My God,” Sam said, staring at him. She should have known, as soon as she’d hear the name, but… “John Crichton,” she said. “We used readings obtained from your last moments in our initial Stargate equations.”
Cameron- no, John, John Crichton- shrugged as if it was nothing. “It was totally accidental,” he assured her. “I ended up here, on this ship. Made friends. Went through a lot of adventures. Fell in love.” He smiled slightly. “Got married, had a kid. Almost destroyed the universe to stop a galaxy-wide war. Lived happily ever after, until I died and made a deal with some Ancients.”
“They sent you home,” Daniel said, awe in his voice. “They Ascended you and took you home.”
“Different Ancients, sorry, Jackson,” Crichton said. “These guys didn’t look human, they looked… well, a little like the Asgard in shape, but… Doesn’t matter. They invented wormhole tech without the Stargate, and they were the ones that sorted it in my head. After what I’d done with the wormhole weapon, when I died, well, they decided I maybe deserved a second chance. They sent me home, rewrote a fuck of a lot of history, and then left me with both sets of memories. I’ve been working towards a position on an SG team ever since.”
“So you could come home,” Teal’c murmured. Sam had almost forgotten he was there, he could be that quiet. It didn’t mean he wasn’t listening. Or that he didn’t understand.
“So I could come home,” Crichton agreed. “Which I did. And now I’m taking you to meet the parents.”
“I can’t believe this,” Daniel said, running his hands over the book in his hands. “Just days ago, I could barely translate one word out of ten.”
Crichton grinned at him from where he stood, leaning against the door frame and watching him. “And now?”
“I can read it,” Daniel. He knew he sounded like an awestruck little kid, but he couldn’t help it. That’s what he felt like. He felt like he’d just opened the Stargate again. “I can read all of it. Jesus, Crichton, do you know what kind of gift this is?” The name felt odd on his tongue, but it suited him in a way Cameron Mitchell never had.
“Not really,” Crichton said. “I mean, I was a man of action in both lives, you know? Translatin’ was never really my thing.”
“This is like solving the meaning of life,” Daniel breathed, looking down at the books in his hands. “This is… To me, this is everything.”
“Then I’m glad I could have given it to you,” Crichton said. “Or rather, that Moya could. She’s pretty confused as to why you care so much. It’s sort of universal, in her galaxy.”
“I can’t even imagine,” Daniel said. “A world with no language barriers? The possibilities are endless.”
“Don’t get your hopes up too high,” Crichton said, his voice harsh. “I almost destroyed the universe to stop a war that people managed despite being able to talk to each other. Human nature is still human nature, even when you’re not human, and it doesn’t matter what language you speak.”
“I read through the database for you, you know,” Daniel said. “Moya was very helpful in providing it.”
Crichton managed to go frighteningly tense without moving a single relaxed muscle. Jack had had the knack of that, too. It was just as disconcerting on him. “Say anything fun?” Crichton said lightly, as if he hadn’t just been talking about destroying the universe.
“You’re a hero,” Daniel said. “You have a holiday named after you, one that’s celebrated on every planet in the galaxy, even out in the Uncharted Territories. You had a wife named Aeryn Sun, a son named Dhargo, for a Luxan warrior who died in the last battle. You lived on Moya for ten years after the last battle before you died. She considers you her Commander, though Leviathans have none beyond their Pilot, and she trusts and loves you enough to find Earth’s galaxy after your death and transfer, in the faint hope that she could get you back.” Daniel paused to smile at him. “That tells me more than enough, right there.”
Crichton didn’t say anything. Daniel continued.
“You’ve been letting us treat you like the new kid on the block, even though you’ve been way more out there than we ever have.”
“Don’t get too impressed,” Crichton advised. “It was mostly me being in the right place at the right time. You lot actually try to save the universe. All I’ve ever wanted to do was go home.”
“Yeah,” Daniel said. “I know the feeling.”