Greetings: Hello, everyone. Gosh, it has been so long since I posted a story or written one. RL got complicated and busy, and so my writing muse took an extended vacation. Sadly, I have lost touch with many of my SGA friends, but I do hope they are all doing well. I look back at that time fondly with them even though I was royally annoyed and disappointed with the show's writers and producers and the ending of SGA.
Lately, I have been re-watching SGA and rereading some SGA fan fictions and I have read a couple of the Legacy books and suddenly I am getting excited to write again. Work is extremely busy for me now, so ideally now would not be a good time for me to try to write any long-drawn-out story, but I have a couple of stories in my head that I would love to write, and I have drafts of many stories saved. My intention was to try to finish my incomplete stories someday, and maybe someday I will, but I need to start somewhere so I did finally decide to go through some of my stories drafts today and came across this episode fic which I kind of like, and I hope who ever read it enjoy it too.
Title: Mission Report
Disclaimer: Sadly, Stargate Atlantis and its characters are not my own. I make no profit, only for fun.
Episode: Prodigal
Character: Ronon
Comment: Episode tag fic.
He was a man of very few words. Inaction could never be considered one of his virtues; in fact, others often saw it as some kind of weakness, or maybe a lack of intelligence on his part. And he hadn't tried to correct such thoughts of foolishness. Such thoughts didn't matter to him. He had survived far worst. He had seen and done things that the others here wouldn't understand or comprehend. He had been a Runner. He had been the Wraith's sport, hunted, as a game.
Being a Runner for years had taught him survival and that had come with a cost. Fleeing from planet to planet, afraid his presence would bring the Wraith to the planet that he had found himself for that day, for more than a few hours. It hadn't been wise for him to make friends. He had made that mistake once and others had suffered for his mistake. He had to leave no evidence of his visits, no evidence of his existence or presence when it came to the many worlds he had visited. He had been a chameleon. Sight unseen was always a good thing. He had been a blip on the screen; to only vanish as fast as it had appeared on the screen.
And with very little human contact or interaction, there was no need for words. He had been too busy fighting for his survival. His world had been savaged, so was his nature at times. He was like a panther - hunting in the wilds. Although, much had changed in his life, he had friends now. And he even had place that he called home now. And he was healing. He was finally finding that man of culture he had lost during his time of running and surviving. But he will still always be an action man and a man of a few words because he didn't care for long drawn-out dialogue. So, he will give Mr. Woolsey the mission report he wanted, although begrudgingly. He looked at the recorder in his hand, hesitantly. He lifted the recorder to his mouth and just as hesitantly began to give his mission report.
"Mission report. Michael invaded Atlantis, tried to blow it up. We stopped him. End of report."
He found that short and simple was best.
The End.