[SGA] Luckenbach, Texas
Title: Luckenbach, Texas
Gen: Caldwell, Ford, Lorne, McKay
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1300
Summary: The new Daedalus personnel have a lot to learn -- not only about Atlantis, but about themselves.
Notes: Written for sga-flashfic's school challenge. Many thanks to miriam for the beta and the waffles.
Originally Posted: November 26, 2005
Luckenbach, Texas
The first thing Major Lorne learns about Atlantis is where to get it. The military isn't so different from prison in a lot of ways and knowing who can get it for you, whatever it happens to be, is a similarity they'll always share.
The guy who can get it for you on Atlantis used to be a British scientist named Grodin, at least until he went heroic and explosive on an alien space defense satellite. The guy who can get it for you now is a jumpy little Czech number who bears more than a passing resemblance to a garden gnome and Lorne thinks he can lay him out in five seconds flat, give or take three or four.
That is, at least, until he sees the little guy in action. Lorne's been in the military long enough to learn the hard way that you never fuck with the engineers and the Czech is the epitome of the reason why. It's not the ingenious hazing he can devise or the elaborate prank wars he can win or even his complete monopoly on the moonshine market that scares Lorne, but rather the thoroughly demonic glee that dances across his face when he thinks no one's watching -- the sort of glee (and this is the truly frightening part) he only shows when doing actual work.
Lorne learns a lot of things in the time it takes him to put the right name to the right civilian's face, but it doesn't take him long to learn that Zelenka could easily fuck them all up but good, so he keeps his business on the up and up. He doesn't even mind the exorbitant cost plus mark-up for the new Daedalus personnel, though it's clearly highway robbery of the most flagrant sort.
But the most important thing Lorne learns is that a jumpy little Czech number with the kind of home brew that burns through your stomach and puts hair on your balls deserves just as much credit for the continued success of the Atlantis expedition as the scientist who went heroic and explosive on an alien space defense satellite.
--------
The first thing Dr. Marie Jay learns about Atlantis is that Dr. McKay stars, infrequently but quite vividly, in Miko's rather more...personal dreams. All Marie really wants to know is the answer to a quick, innocuous question and instead, by truly unintended eavesdropping on a flushed and whispered conversation, she learns more than she ever wanted to about the potential of Dr. McKay's rather remarkable...skills.
Marie knows of Dr. McKay and has great respect for the man and his ideas despite what she's heard of his truly abominable personality. She has also seen Dr. McKay -- book jackets, press releases, awards ceremonies -- and there's no way she thinks he can do half of what Miko is describing.
Despite her best efforts, Miko hears Marie trying to quietly remove herself from what is clearly an inappropriate workplace conversation and it's two weeks before Miko can even begin to think of looking her in the eye.
Marie has learned a lot of things during her short time on Atlantis, not the least of which is that Dr. McKay is even more brilliant than his reputation has lead to her believe. Unfortunately, his personality is equally appalling. After the third time in an hour wherein he berates her so enthusiastically spittle flies from his mouth, insults her religious leanings, and makes scandalous, libelous, and wholly untrue intimations about her collegiate romantic entanglements, she is shocked and appalled to find she vaguely enjoys it. And while she still doesn't think Dr. McKay can do half of what Miko described, she has no absolutely no doubt that he can certainly do something an entire order of magnitude better.
But the most important thing Marie learns is that the necessity of holding on to one's spiritual beliefs isn't lessened even when one relocates to another galaxy: all personal feelings aside, the simple and inexplicable truth is that Dr. McKay produces more Hail Marys than anyone -- anyone -- has a right to. They should all give thanks.
--------
The first thing Lt. Romero learns about Atlantis is that the fucking Texans are everywhere. It never fails: no matter what artillery unit he's in, even if it's in another fucking galaxy, there's some tall, loudmouthed Texan with a cockeyed cowboy hat and pointed cowboy boots, his distracted hands deep in the guts of a Carl Gustav launcher keeping Romero waiting for the moment he blows them all to kingdom come.
Romero hates those kinds of Texans.
Barnett is that kind of Texan.
But Romero likes his job and isn't looking to lose it, so he only snaps at Barnett when he absolutely can't fucking take it anymore. Unfortunately, that happens more often than it should and it's about to happen again when Romero wanders into one of the workrooms late one night and finds Barnett with the innards of what looks like half the armory strewn around him. It's all on the tip of his tongue when he sees the deadly half-built beauty in the center of the room. "Gorgeous, ain't she?" Barnett says, all twang. Romero thinks gorgeous doesn't even come close and moves in for a better look.
Romero's learned a lot of things on this crazy alien planet, like how hard it is to adjust to a thirty hour day, how close science fiction can be to reality, and how real heroes come from all walks of life, like Lt. Ford. People aren't reluctant to talk about him -- in fact, they have all kinds of stories, the kinds of stories that make Romero think he'd really have liked to buy Ford a bottle in some off-base beer joint -- but they are incredibly reluctant to talk about what happened to him. Romero thinks he understands why.
But the most important thing Romero learns is that, with the sun coming up on a new weapon he and Barnett have spent all night designing together without shit talking or a fistfight or anything but the desire to create something to keep their people safe, maybe Lt. Ford would want to buy them a bottle. And that, more than anything else, makes it all worth it.
--------
The first thing Col. Caldwell learns about Atlantis is that playing the hero never stops feeling good. They aren’t his people yet, but he knows they soon will be and he'll do whatever it takes to protect them. That is, after all, how he ended up as little more than a glorified freighter captain in the first place; in that, he thinks he and Sheppard may have something in common. But that's where the commonalities end: Sheppard, even at thirty-something-plus, is still the smartass punk most parents hope their teenagers never turn into. He is also, apparently, the kind of smartass punk who has women like Elizabeth Weir enamored with him for no reason other than the mere fact that he manages to stay alive -- despite terrible odds he creates himself. That is if the rumors are to be believed, at least, and Caldwell hasn't yet seen a reason not to.
Caldwell learns many things while in Atlantis: he learns that Sheppard is much better at his job than Caldwell expected him to be; that the petite woman in the leather skirt whose name he can never pronounce properly can kick his ass six ways to Sunday; and that Elizabeth misses the tangible newsprint and the crossword of the New York Times more than she misses chocolate.
If he happens to leave a pile of Times back issues on her desk during each supply run, it's clearly nothing more than coincidence.
But the most important thing Caldwell learns is that some things never change: he will always, always, want the one woman he can't have.
Gen: Caldwell, Ford, Lorne, McKay
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1300
Summary: The new Daedalus personnel have a lot to learn -- not only about Atlantis, but about themselves.
Notes: Written for sga-flashfic's school challenge. Many thanks to miriam for the beta and the waffles.
Originally Posted: November 26, 2005
Luckenbach, Texas
The first thing Major Lorne learns about Atlantis is where to get it. The military isn't so different from prison in a lot of ways and knowing who can get it for you, whatever it happens to be, is a similarity they'll always share.
The guy who can get it for you on Atlantis used to be a British scientist named Grodin, at least until he went heroic and explosive on an alien space defense satellite. The guy who can get it for you now is a jumpy little Czech number who bears more than a passing resemblance to a garden gnome and Lorne thinks he can lay him out in five seconds flat, give or take three or four.
That is, at least, until he sees the little guy in action. Lorne's been in the military long enough to learn the hard way that you never fuck with the engineers and the Czech is the epitome of the reason why. It's not the ingenious hazing he can devise or the elaborate prank wars he can win or even his complete monopoly on the moonshine market that scares Lorne, but rather the thoroughly demonic glee that dances across his face when he thinks no one's watching -- the sort of glee (and this is the truly frightening part) he only shows when doing actual work.
Lorne learns a lot of things in the time it takes him to put the right name to the right civilian's face, but it doesn't take him long to learn that Zelenka could easily fuck them all up but good, so he keeps his business on the up and up. He doesn't even mind the exorbitant cost plus mark-up for the new Daedalus personnel, though it's clearly highway robbery of the most flagrant sort.
But the most important thing Lorne learns is that a jumpy little Czech number with the kind of home brew that burns through your stomach and puts hair on your balls deserves just as much credit for the continued success of the Atlantis expedition as the scientist who went heroic and explosive on an alien space defense satellite.
--------
The first thing Dr. Marie Jay learns about Atlantis is that Dr. McKay stars, infrequently but quite vividly, in Miko's rather more...personal dreams. All Marie really wants to know is the answer to a quick, innocuous question and instead, by truly unintended eavesdropping on a flushed and whispered conversation, she learns more than she ever wanted to about the potential of Dr. McKay's rather remarkable...skills.
Marie knows of Dr. McKay and has great respect for the man and his ideas despite what she's heard of his truly abominable personality. She has also seen Dr. McKay -- book jackets, press releases, awards ceremonies -- and there's no way she thinks he can do half of what Miko is describing.
Despite her best efforts, Miko hears Marie trying to quietly remove herself from what is clearly an inappropriate workplace conversation and it's two weeks before Miko can even begin to think of looking her in the eye.
Marie has learned a lot of things during her short time on Atlantis, not the least of which is that Dr. McKay is even more brilliant than his reputation has lead to her believe. Unfortunately, his personality is equally appalling. After the third time in an hour wherein he berates her so enthusiastically spittle flies from his mouth, insults her religious leanings, and makes scandalous, libelous, and wholly untrue intimations about her collegiate romantic entanglements, she is shocked and appalled to find she vaguely enjoys it. And while she still doesn't think Dr. McKay can do half of what Miko described, she has no absolutely no doubt that he can certainly do something an entire order of magnitude better.
But the most important thing Marie learns is that the necessity of holding on to one's spiritual beliefs isn't lessened even when one relocates to another galaxy: all personal feelings aside, the simple and inexplicable truth is that Dr. McKay produces more Hail Marys than anyone -- anyone -- has a right to. They should all give thanks.
--------
The first thing Lt. Romero learns about Atlantis is that the fucking Texans are everywhere. It never fails: no matter what artillery unit he's in, even if it's in another fucking galaxy, there's some tall, loudmouthed Texan with a cockeyed cowboy hat and pointed cowboy boots, his distracted hands deep in the guts of a Carl Gustav launcher keeping Romero waiting for the moment he blows them all to kingdom come.
Romero hates those kinds of Texans.
Barnett is that kind of Texan.
But Romero likes his job and isn't looking to lose it, so he only snaps at Barnett when he absolutely can't fucking take it anymore. Unfortunately, that happens more often than it should and it's about to happen again when Romero wanders into one of the workrooms late one night and finds Barnett with the innards of what looks like half the armory strewn around him. It's all on the tip of his tongue when he sees the deadly half-built beauty in the center of the room. "Gorgeous, ain't she?" Barnett says, all twang. Romero thinks gorgeous doesn't even come close and moves in for a better look.
Romero's learned a lot of things on this crazy alien planet, like how hard it is to adjust to a thirty hour day, how close science fiction can be to reality, and how real heroes come from all walks of life, like Lt. Ford. People aren't reluctant to talk about him -- in fact, they have all kinds of stories, the kinds of stories that make Romero think he'd really have liked to buy Ford a bottle in some off-base beer joint -- but they are incredibly reluctant to talk about what happened to him. Romero thinks he understands why.
But the most important thing Romero learns is that, with the sun coming up on a new weapon he and Barnett have spent all night designing together without shit talking or a fistfight or anything but the desire to create something to keep their people safe, maybe Lt. Ford would want to buy them a bottle. And that, more than anything else, makes it all worth it.
--------
The first thing Col. Caldwell learns about Atlantis is that playing the hero never stops feeling good. They aren’t his people yet, but he knows they soon will be and he'll do whatever it takes to protect them. That is, after all, how he ended up as little more than a glorified freighter captain in the first place; in that, he thinks he and Sheppard may have something in common. But that's where the commonalities end: Sheppard, even at thirty-something-plus, is still the smartass punk most parents hope their teenagers never turn into. He is also, apparently, the kind of smartass punk who has women like Elizabeth Weir enamored with him for no reason other than the mere fact that he manages to stay alive -- despite terrible odds he creates himself. That is if the rumors are to be believed, at least, and Caldwell hasn't yet seen a reason not to.
Caldwell learns many things while in Atlantis: he learns that Sheppard is much better at his job than Caldwell expected him to be; that the petite woman in the leather skirt whose name he can never pronounce properly can kick his ass six ways to Sunday; and that Elizabeth misses the tangible newsprint and the crossword of the New York Times more than she misses chocolate.
If he happens to leave a pile of Times back issues on her desk during each supply run, it's clearly nothing more than coincidence.
But the most important thing Caldwell learns is that some things never change: he will always, always, want the one woman he can't have.