Cross your fingers everyone, and hope this is better than the last two. And please, review people! I got no reviews for the last chapter! C'mon...please?
Warning: Cursing. Lots and lots of language your mother probably doesn't approve of.
BEWARE OF CHOCOLATE COVERED HIPPOPOTAMUSES!
Dear Mom,
Ah shit, I'm completely fucked up now. Completely and totally screwed. I'm so far down the creek I'm about to be washed out to sea. And forget about paddles, because at this point I'd count myself lucky to have dried buffalo crap.
Okay, sorry for panicking on you there Mom, but my bizarre little life is about to be flushed down the toilet, and I'm not too happy about that right now. I mean, physics is irritating, TV reality taking on an entirely new meaning is headache inducing, and being chased by gun-slinging Russian security forces is harrowing, but ending up in the past, in another galaxy, while a hypercane is headed for the city is disturbing and completely and totally wrong. The fact that the chances of me surviving said hypercane , especially when compounded with armed megalomaniacs running around the city, are slim isn't helping my mood much either.
Right, I'm going to cut my rant off right now and get back to the story of how I ended up in a Wraith cage. Let's see, I found my clothes, minus my shoes, which didn't help be later, stole a maintenance kit from Dr. McKay, crawled in that tiny space between the ceiling tiles and the floor of the next story up, followed some voices to the control room, lifted up one of the tiles, and then...
I saw the Stargate. It was pretty cool looking; it actually looked almost like one on TV, but this one was purple. It was active, and some of the people there were moving crates away from the gate. Dr. Weir (although at the time I suppose she was still Dr. Kay to me) was discussing something with an English-accented guy. I shifted my wait a little so I could see better. Not the smartest thing I've ever done in my life, although at the time it seemed like a good idea.
I believe I mentioned in my last entry that the ceiling tiles were pretty light, but the were shiny and smooth so I figured they were some sort of metal, and therefore able to hold my weight? I was almost right. They could hold my weight- if I kept pressure on more than one of them. Unfortunately, when I shifted my weight... the weird metal might as well have been shaving cream.
So, needless to say, I fell, rather hard I might add, one story down and about five inches away from the British dude and on my stomach. Someone above me squeaked, and then everyone stared at me. It was one of those moments when a herd of rampaging elephants could danced the can-can in pink tutus and top hats and no one would have even noticed.
And what did I say in all my profound intelligence?
"Oh shit." I muttered, picking myself off the ground. "Crap, this is really not good."
Dr. Weir blinked. "Emako, what are you doing outside the infirmary?"
"Took a wrong turn to the bathroom. You know, now that you mention it, I'll think I'll go back there now." I backed away a bit, turned, and nearly collided with Major Sheppard.
"That sounds like a plan to me." he stated. "Let's go." He placed his hand on his gun. Now that I think about it, he was probably just as freaked about the whole falling out of ceiling bit as I was, and being cautious. Not was I was thinking at the time. At the time, I decided now was a good time to put on anotherdemonstration ofmy high IQ. In short, I completely freaked, panicked, and ran.
Well actually, I ran to the stairs, tried to run down them but then decided that was too slow and ended up vaulting over the banister onto some guy with a ponytail- probably Kavanagh, or however his name's spelled, now that I have time to think about it, jumped off him, skidded to the doors, which, thankfully opened for me, out into a hallway, took a left, then a right, the into this closet-sized niche in the wall that had one of those cool light-up maps in it- the transporter, I soon found out, when I went crashing into it and hit one of the buttons.
Yep, I really amAP material. I swear, the only thing I'm really smart in is blind, sheer, dumb, skin-of-your teeth luck.
I ended up right outside what turned out to be Dr. McKay's lab (I think- it could have been Dr. Zelenka's), and still be in a state of semi-blind panic, I ducked inside and hide underneath some sort of table just as -you guessed it- Dr. McKay and Dr. Zelenka entered the room.
"...any idea of what this meeting could be about?" Dr. Z was saying as he and the geeky Canadian entered through the door behind me.
"No Nelukta, I must have told you six times by now. All I know is that it concerns Major Sheppard and Teyla, and from the tone in her voice it's probably not going to be anything good." McKay whined, shuffling through papers.
"I still do not understand why we are taking the lab reports up now. They aren't due until next week." McKay grunted something unintelligible to which Zelenka replied "My name is Zelenka. Zel-len-ka. It is not the difficult to pronounce. Or to remem... watch it!"
There was a clatter as a small avalanche of papers and paperweights fell off the table, the bulk of the stuff landing directly behind me. Zelenka swore in Czech, and he and McKay both bent over to pick up the supplies. Needless to say, they saw me.
"Who are you?" Zelenka asked. I must now point out that I do not deal well with stress. Hence, my reply was "Merde! Je suis niqué!"
And yes Mom, that was me cursing in French. I've found that cursing at people in languages they don't understand is a very good way to derail dangerous conversations, such as what happened to me in April. And for some strange reason the teachers don't mind it at all. You do it too, I seem to remember.
Getting back to the lab...
"I'm sorry?" McKay intoned. "You're what?"
"Lost." I replied semi-cheerfully, coming out from under the table and straightening up. "I don't suppose you can point me in the direction of the infirmary, could you?"
"Wait just a minute, you're that girl that... what are you doing out of bed?" he spluttered.
"Long story. Suffice it to say I'd rather get back sooner than later. So if you could just point me in the direction of Beckett's place Dr. McKay?"
"Sure," he said, looking slightly perplexed. "It's right over..."
"Hold a moment." Zelenka interjected. "Dr. McKay? And Dr. Beckett?"
Dr. McKay shut his mouth, looked at Zelenka, and then back at me. That's when I remembered, too late, that I supposed to know them only as Dr. McWeir and Dr. Carson. Shit.
Or as I said at the time, "Crisse!"
And then Major Sheppard ran into to lab. "Rodney, that Levine girl's lose around the city... or she could be right here."
"Okay, I'm leaving now." I said making a dash for the door. Sheppard blocked my path. So I tried another door, and was blocked by Zelenka. McKay took another door to my left, so I made a dash for the fourth door as the Major called for reinforcements. I almost made it, but I stopped by a rather pitiful tackle from McKay that sent me spiraling into a pad on the wall. That's when Luck decided to give me a little of her bounty, and the lights began to flicker insanely before burning themselves out in a blinding flash. Me? I had my eyes closed, so I took advantage of having my eyes more or less able to see to run for the fifth and final door out of the lab and into another transporter.
Lady Luck's apretty stingy bitchthough. I ended up in a mess hall. A mess hall populated by a bunch of people with radios who were more than willing to call for security, which came in the form of several gun-wielding guys who should really be screened for steroid use. Since I was trying to run back out of the mess hall at the time, I collided with one of them.
Which is how I came to be surrounded by armed security guards; and how I came to be locked up in the brig awaiting the death sentence.
Okay, so they're not actually going to kill me. But if I were Major Sheppard, I wouldn't let me to... whatever planet it is that the majority of Atlantis's residents are gating of to. Manara? Something like that...doesn't really matter, idoubt I'll go there, they'll probably thinkI might spy, or at the very least annoy the heck out of everyone. No, it would probably be safer to keep me here... and in the control room. Which means I'd probably be there when Kolya gates in.
Peachy. Just incredibly peachy. Absolutely fucking ducky.
Well, if I don't write again, you can safely assume I've died. Maybe I won't be though, I mean, I came back once, maybe I'll be able to pull another miracle off. Sorta. Maybe.
Oh good Lord, I'm going to start hyperventilating any second now. I'm scared completely and totally shitless. I'm going to die. I'm going to be shot be people who shouldn't even exist. And who am I kidding- I had absolutely nothing to do with getting myself back last time, and the chances I'll get a third chance are so slim they aren't even worth mentioning. Tiny- tiny Itty-bitty microscopic chance. There's a greater probability of John DeLancie and Patrick Stewart dressing up in pink tutus, magically appearing in the control room, and reenacting George Washington crossing the Delaware.
Okay, so maybe it's not that bad, but it's pretty damn close.
I really hope I have a chance to write to you again. But if I don't, I love you, okay?
Froma rather freaked out Emako
YABA DABA DOO!
You know, I really didn't like this chapter either. See you in a week...hopefully.
Remey; Update!
