Ahem. . . .
Let's try this again, shall we? I'm rewriting this piece. Progress may be slow, but I'm happier with it this time around. For those of you who were reading Broken Mirror -- Thank you for your patience. And sorry, but new chapters (while definitely coming) will continue to be erratic.
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This story is a crossover between Farscape and Stargate Atlantis. Spoilers are very possible (though, for the most part, unplanned) but mostly for Farscape, especially The Peacekeeper Wars. However, the story will mostly be in the Stargate universe, so spoilers might slip in there too. The timeline should be somewhere early season 3 on SGA.
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters or their worlds.
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Sheppard
"So, where the hell is he?" Maybe that came out a little harsher than I'd like, but hey, I'm hungry. And running late.
The two young marines in front of me try to look at each other without turning their heads. It only makes them look cross-eyed.
"Sir?" the taller one finally asks. Geez, he sounds like he thinks I'll bite. What does Caldwell tell these guys on their way out here?
"Lieutenant Tinneman. You know, beefy guy, Boston accent. The marine who's supposed to be showing you rookies around the city? Ring a bell?"
When the two kids can only shake their heads in confusion I turn away. Hiding a sigh, I motion for them to stay put. Honestly. Like I don't have better things to do. My team's probably already waiting in the gate room.
Not that I can blame the newbies for not recognizing Tinneman. He's barely shown his face since they'd got here. Used to be a steady enough guy, one of Everett's relief force. Boring though. Very much a background player. Lately. . . Lorne had him on report for several minor infractions, and had sent him to see Heightmeyer at least once. She said a bad trading mission might have spooked him, so we put him on baby sitting detail. With this, it looks like I'll be sending him home on the Daedalus after all.
If I can find him, at any rate.
"Paging Lieutenant Tinneman. Urgent message for Lieutenant Tinneman." I try to sound like that calm voice that comes over an airport's speakers, looking for lost children. No, impatience doesn't make me sarcastic at all.
Unlike the last four calls I'd put out over the radio, I get an answer -- from Jones, up in control.
"Is there a problem, Colonel?" the sergeant's Midwestern calm hides an eager undertone. It's been boring, for a change, guarding the gate.
"Are there any dots on the LSD that could be my wandering marine, Sergeant?" I had visions of sending Heightmeyer to talk the man down from one of the balconies. Wouldn't be the first time she had to do that for somebody.
There was a pause as Jones had the tech on duty pull up the screen. "The only person off my themselves, who isn't in the living quarters, is down in Sector C, about two corridors past the labs. You want me to check it out?"
Sector C, Sector C. . . "Hang on Jones. McKay, your radio on?"
The response was immediate, and more than a little irritated. "Colonel, you'd better have a good excuse. Teyla tells me the "friendly native" types make these really delicious sounding little cakes, and really, we're risking a good. . .diplomatic. . .whatever. . .with them by being late already, so --"
"Sorry, Rodney, something's come up." I roll my eyes. "Have you got any of your people working down in Sector C?"
"What? No, of course not. Those labs are all damaged, totally useless. I'd fix them, but I have better things to do. Why do you ask?"
"No reason. Sit tight, this might take awhile."
"Colonel, what --"
"Ronon, sit on him." I tune out his spluttering. "Jones, have Sigman come take charge of Tinneman's rookies. Leave Taylor in charge up there and bring Hagarman with you down to Sector C."
"Yessir."
"You two," I bark at the rookies, "stay here. Wait for Sigman. You can't miss him -- tall skinny guy. Bright red hair." I throw this last bit over my shoulder as I jog off. Sector C's not close, and there's no active transporter in the area. At least I won't need to worry about talking the Lieutenant down from a balcony --- there weren't any. But if he's up to anything less suicidal, he'll be seeing the inside of the brig until Caldwell comes back. Just for making me miss my feast.
McKay
"Get off, you lump of leather. He didn't mean literally!" I try to twist around to glare at Dex, but he doesn't move. Seriously, he weighs like an ox. "Teyla, move him!"
I swear I see a smile on her face as she moves toward us. "Ronon, perhaps you could release Dr. McKay. I do not believe that shade of red is healthy."
Dex grunts (probably laughing at me) and gets up, hauling me along by my pack. "Careful!" I growl, brushing myself off.
On anyone else that raised eyebrow would be a mild expression. On Ronon Dex it's a smirk. An evil, petty, smirk. And Teyla just smiles.
I snort and walk away from them. So, Sector C has something going on, huh? Won't tell me what you're doing, huh, Sheppard? Even though you're ruining my dinner. There's nothing in those labs! What could possibly. . .
"Perhaps he will tell us if he needs us." Huh? Oh, Teyla.
"Was I talking out loud? Sorry. And ha. Ha. Ha. Like he'd know he needed us before he really needed us."
Dex's hand lands on my shoulder before I can keep walking. "Sheppard said stay."
"What am I, a Labrador? Look, whatever's going on down there, there are labs in Sector C. Labs are my responsibility. Therefore, I'm going to the labs. Let's go." I snap my fingers at him for emphasis.
He looks to Teyla before letting go with a shrug. "I'm not good at waiting around," he says.
"It does not seem that wither of you are." She sounds almost cross, but still, she follows us. Ha. She doesn't like kicking her heels anymore than we do.
"Well then, since we're all agreed, this way," I proclaim, striding off. "Let's get this done, dinner's waiting."
Sheppard
It's pretty creepy down here. Definitely not one of the more scenic areas on the Atlantis tour. All dark and kinda damp. Smells a little fishy. Huh. I should send the rookies down here during their initiation. Show them what things could be like if we get careless. Or unlucky. I could send them here and to McKay's lab -- "And here we have an example of all the things you Do Not Touch without permission. In particular, permission from that guy messing with the nuclear bomb in the corner."
Actually, I don't think Rodney actually has a bomb in the lab anymore. I think he might be getting tired of things that go boom.
"Sir," Jones' voice comes over the radio. "Hagarman and I are on our way. Sigman has the kids. And, uh, the gate room says your team's coming too."
I sigh. Of course they are. "Thanks for the heads up Sergeant."
Well, we'll have enough people for a real intervention, at least. I pull out my handheld LSD. Still just two dots on the screen. That's me and, I'm hoping, Tinnemen. Maybe one more corridor over. I slow down. If the Lieutenant has gone over the bend, I don't want to end up full of holes for running up on him.
Suddenly, three more dots pop up behind me, and I spin around, gun up and ready.
"See, told you we'd catch up with -- Hey!" Rodney cuts himself off with a yelp, ducking behind Ronon, who rolls his eyes.
Oops. I lower the gun. "How the hell'd you get down here so fast?"
Rodney straightens, muttering about Rambo. "I fixed the transporter in this sector almost a month ago. Didn't get the memo?"
"No, Rodney, I didn't get the memo. And anyway, I was expecting you to wait for me in the gate room!"
Ronon grunts as he and the rest of my team fall in around me. "Liar."
"What he said," Rodney adds absently, staring over my shoulder at the LSD. "Who's that? Nobody should be down here." He pulls out his own life-signs detector, as if mine were wrong somehow.
"That's what I'm here to find out."
"Oh, are we sneaking? 'Cause sound kinda echoes down here. . ." He trails off as I glare, and huffs. "Fine." He occupies himself with the scanner -- looking for what, I don't know.
"All right, look," I say, keeping my voice low. "I think that's a marine, Lieutenant Will Tinneman, who's gone a little screwy. So we'll take this nice and easy, and keep everything calm until Jones and Hagarman get down here to toss him in the brig. Or to bring him to Heightmeyer. Whatever seems appropriate. Then we'll go apologize to the natives on Cake world, and eat our feast, okay?"
Ronon and Teyla nod, but I don't hear McKay's enthusiastic support. In fact he's stopped behind us, staring at the screen in his hands, a little frown creasing his forehead.
"McKay?"
"Hmmm?" He doesn't look up, just makes a few adjustments and frowns some more.
"Rodney!"
"Sorry. I'm just getting some odd power readings here. You sure that's a marine down here? By himself? 'Cause, no offense, but most of your goons don't know anything about anything that would give off these sorts of readings. I'm not sure we even have anything that would give off these readings."
"Well, I'm not so sure anymore. . ." I trail off, looking hard at my LSD. Still just one dot. "Let's check it out."
McKay
Really, these readings are. . .well. Weird, for lack of a better term. Whatever is giving off this power signature is at least holding steady. Doesn't look like it will explode anytime soon. But there was nothing down here. We'd stripped the Sector of anything remotely useful and moved it all to areas in better repair. Of course, now that we had a working ZPM we probably could come in and make the repairs down here. . .but there are so many other things that need upkeep, and there really is nothing down here. . .except for that whatever that is, and it certainly wasn't down here before. . .
"Dr. McKay. You are doing it again." Teyla's soft voice startles me away from the readings. I look up to see Sheppard's exasperated look.
"What?"
He raises an eyebrow and gestures to the corner.
"Oh, right. Sound. Got ya. Lead on, Colonel." And he does, of course, with Ronon close behind. Teyla sets her hand on my back. Not shoving, just. . .there. It's sort of nice.
There's a whole row of empty rooms in this corridor. Storage, most likely, seeing how close it is to the damaged labs. But whatever was in them originally was long gone by the time we arrived. Whoever and whatever is setting off these readings are imported. Not Ancient. And not likely Lieutenant Billy Tidleman, or whatever his name was.
So when Sheppard and Ronon open the door to expose Dr. Hilde Browne, one of Kavanaugh's old research team, I'm not surprised. Well, surprised it's her maybe, but not that it's a scientist. Actually, I'm really very surprised it's her.
"Browne! Why are still on Atlantis? You left on the last -- and what the hell is that doing here?" Because the large slab of mirror that the doctor is trying unsuccessfully to hide behind her skinny back would certainly be able to cause the sort of readings that were blinking on my scanner, but most certainly should not be here. Or anywhere, in this universe. Not anymore.
I start to step past Sheppard to get a better look at the mirror -- the active mirror -- but he blocks my advance.
"An explanation would be good, McKay."
I answer him absently, still trying to see the scene behind Doctor Browne. Some sort of market place maybe. But was that some sort of . . .hairless bear. . .thing? With way too many teeth -- and a pink robe? "Colonel, this can't be here." I insist, pointing at it.
"Okay, I get that, but what is it, Rodney?" He's watching the bear-thing too, though, thankfully, it doesn't seem to be paying any attention to the mirror. Just passing by, looking decidedly odd over the shoulder of Browne's white lab coat. Here eyes are jumping from Sheppard to me to Ronon, then skipping over to Teyla, but she says nothing.
"It's the Quantum Mirror. General Hammond ordered it destroyed years ago." Sheppard rolls his eyes and sighs. Oh fine, straight to the point. "It's like a doorway to a parallel universe. Well, more like an alternate reality. You realize that's a two way connection, don't you Dr. Browne? Did you see that thing over there? The thing in pink. . .with the teeth?"
Sheppard and Ronon both raise their guns. "Two way, McKay?"
"Well, we can see them, and they could see us, but they'd have to touch the mirror on their side to get over here, and there doesn't seem to be anybody . . .anything. . .that close to it." It seems to be inside some sort of tent in the market. Not a very busy one. . .but there are armed guards walking past the tent. "Those are some really big guns, though."
"Dr. Browne, turn that thing off." Sheppard's voice is icy. And now the woman decides to talk.
"I won't. You wouldn't want to maroon the Lieutenant on the other side, would you Colonel?" Her chin is lifted belligerently, which will only piss Sheppard off, but still, she hit the right note. The only thing she could have said, really, to keep him from shutting the thing down by force.
Sheppard
Damn. Damn and damn. So instead of a spooked out marine I've got a mad scientist, a two way doorway into an alternate reality with big guns, and a missing Lieutenant. Great. So. Keep calm. I can feel Ronon at my side, finger steady on the trigger. I look over at Teyla, on McKay's other side. Her eyes are tight (she saw the guns too) but her face is calm. McKay looks ready to shove Browne out of the way to get a better look at the Mirror, but he's waiting for me. I look back to the doctor. There's a controller, or a scanner, or something, in her hand. Her face is set, eyes hard. She's not lying.
"Explain."
The sharp chin goes up a notch. Her voice, clipped accent (South African?) cold, doesn't waver, even though Ronon's gun is practically pointing up her nose. "Tinneman has volunteered to retrieve a valuable resource from the other side. A weapon, one we can use to fight the Wraith. If I turn this off, the Lieutenant, as well as that resource, will be lost. It could take months to find the proper coordinates again."
"McKay? That sound right to you?"
"I know I'm an expert on, well, everything, but I didn't read up too much on this thing, seeing as how it was supposed to be destroyed and all. But that could be right."
The scene behind Browne's shoulder is getting more active. Guards -- they could only be guards -- running past the tent, guns up. "Doctor," I growl, stepping closer. "You'd better have a way to call him back."
Her eyes flash. "He'll be back with the resource, or not at all. We are committed, Colonel, to the salvation of our galaxy."
McKay snorts. "Probably should be committed to something, anyway." Then something crosses in front of the mirror, and as Rodney yelps and Ronon's gun whines, charging, that something crashes into Browne's back, and flash of what looks like lightning cracks across the mirror. It blackens momentarily, and then shows nothing but our own reflection.
Teyla has her hands on both my arm and Ronon's. We don't fire. Hopefully, the stranger kneeling on Tinneman's chest -- the marine proving to be the something that had crashed into Browne -- won't either. His gun, a rather large and business like pistol, is pressed against the Lieutenant's forehead. Tinneman's hand is slowly unwrapping from the stranger's left wrist, which is locked around the marine's throat.
Even McKay is quiet.
Then Browne, half underneath Tinneman, groans. The stranger twitches, noticing, finally, the rest of us. He meets my eyes -- his are almost as blue as Rodney's -- and gently releases Tinneman's throat. He pulls his gun back, but leaves it aimed uncomfortably close.
Teyla lets go and makes one step forward. The stranger's eyes turn to her, then back to me, studying the uniform. He frowns.
In the silence, I can hear running steps. Jones and Hagarman. They reach the door in time to freeze under the stranger's second gun. Damn, but the man moves fast. Ronon almost fired, but Teyla managed to reach back and take his arm again.
Cautiously Jones looks to me. "Sir?" he asks. Hagarman just stares.
Like I have any idea what's going on at this point. "Look, just . . .hold steady. Everybody." This last I direct to the stranger, who cocks an eyebrow.
"Lieutenant. Care to tell me what the hell is going on?"
Tinneman doesn't look away from the stranger's gun. He has to convince his voice to work. "Colonel Sheppard, I can explain --"
"Somebody'd better!"
He takes a deep breath, and, as Browne shifts beneath him, blurts out -- "This man is John Crichton --- he can make a weapon to defeat the Wraith!"