This is my attempt to get back my muse. So, therefore, lots of dialogue. Not very long either...
Usual disclaimers apply: I don't own anything SGA or BSG related. The last name Lescavage belongs to my roommate... so I don't suppose I have rights to that either! Hah
Blame it on the Coffee
by Running Out of Ink
Sirens were blaring loudly throughout the Ancient city Androsianus. Rodney McKay glared at his computer screen for a moment, trying to hold back his annoyance.
"What did you DO, Rodney?" came the accusing voice of Col. John Sheppard.
That was the final straw. "Oh, sure, blame it all on me. For your information Sheppard, I did nothing this time. I was merely a bystander."
"I'm sure," said Sheppard sarcastically.
"That idiot Lescavage over there thought it would be a good idea to bring coffee around highly fragile and unstable technology," Rodney motioned over to the corner, where a very ashamed looking scientist was standing.
"Like you don't drink coffee around Ancient technology all the time?"
"Yes, well I don't SPILL it on things, now do I?" He looked pointedly at Lescavage, who hung his head in shame.
"Oh, give him a break."
"Oh, sure, I'll give him a break. You, Lescavage, go take the next thirty minutes off while we wait for this entire complex to explode." Lescavage took that as his prompt to leave the room.
"Stop over-exaggerating, Rodney. I'm sure the place isn't going to explode."
"Well… no… but I have no idea what this machine does. And now there are sirens and lights which normally isNOTa good sign?"
The entire complex started to shake, a loud crackling noise resounding through the halls. Hands shot to up to cover ears and Rodney gave Sheppard a look that said I told you so. John started to motion people out of the buildinghoping that Rodney was wrong for once.
Almost as soon as the shaking started, it stopped again. People cautiously removed their hands from their ears and looked around; their faces a mixture of relief and fear. John glanced around the room to see if everyone was alright. There, laying unconscious in the middle of the room, was a man. He was wearing some sort of uniform. It had a high collar and looked almost Ancient in design. John edged closer to the man, pulling his gun out of the holster and aiming it at the man. The mysterious man began to stir, groaning and grumbling in the process.
"Frakking cylons," He cursed, opening his eyes and sitting up.
John Sheppard aimed the gun at his head menacingly. "Who are you and where did you come from?"
The man looked utterly bewildered, looking around the room to gain his bearings. His eyes finally coming to rest upon the man pointing a gun at his head.
"The name's Lee, Lee Adama," He stated. "And who the frak are you?"