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19 December 2014 @ 02:06 am
Irrigating in the Desert 1 of 3 (SG Atlantis/Star Trek Aos Movies fusion  
Title: Irrigating in the Desert
Fandoms: Stargate Atlantis and Star Trek: A03 reboot movies, Fusion
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: the above are not mine, they belong to their respective creators and producers
are only 'borrowed' for the purposes of the story.
Prompt: #79 desert

“Irrigating in the Desert” by Karrenia

Rodney had never been to Utopia Planita before but he had seen diagrams and video feeds of it as a boy in school and later on when he had gone on Starfleet Academy. But ever since he had been a very young boy he had been fascinated with ships, things that flew both under their own power as well as with the science behind them.

His parents had seen the spark in him, and had not seen fit to attempt to either stifle or believe that it was nothing more than a passing fancy. There had been some concern that his was a nature more given over to the empirical and scientific inquiry that there might not enough room left over to have empathy or be able to interact with other people socially.

As a child he’d felt more and more that he gone into a kind of protective shell, not allowing anyone to get close to him and as he grew older it became his protection. That if he didn’t invest in taking the time and effort to grow emotionally attached to anyone in particular than he would not have to risk getting hurt or hurting anyone else.

Now, when it came to his sister, Jeanine she could seemed to be the exact opposite of her brother, charming, outgoing, smart, emotionally invested in everything and everyone; one of the smart, funny, popular kids when they were growing up. This is seemingly profound difference in their emotional make had decidedly caused a great deal of friction between them when they were growing up and that fracture in their relationship had even carried into their adult lives.

Speaking of friction, and not the kind that he’d studied in physics class, only a month ago his father had shocked him with the revelation shortly after his graduation from Starfleet Academy that he was not like the other children on the Federation colony of Manitoba Prime, that he was not fully human, that his mother who had died before he had had the chance to get to know her, had been Vulcan.
Rodney McKay was still in the throes of processing, but at the moment he did not want to deal with it. How much of him was human, how much Vulcan, and what difference did it make in the grand scheme of things?

Would he have to make any adjustments? Would he get into trouble with Starfleet once word of his dual heritage got out? It was simply too much to deal with at the moment.
It was simply too much to process at the moment; instead he just wanted to soak in this moment for all it was worth.

He rode along in the transport through huge sprawling chambers filled with ships of varying descriptions sizes; most with the familiar saucer-shaped section that were pretty much standard issue design in the Federation.

Among the noises of the construction going on all around him, it was unlikely in the extreme that anyone would hear him, so he settled for a muffled :Huzzah!” instead of a full-throated roar of unbridled enthusiasm that he wanted to give voice to.

Somewhere in the midst of his meandering thoughts it occurred to him that his emotional response to his current experience was not very Vulcan penchant for emotional restraint, but Rodney did not care about any of that.

The chance to get a personal on-site view of the infrastructure of a ship of the line in the process of being built as crew and technicans swarmed all over, the entire place seemingly to thrum with an inexplicable but undeniable energy of its own was a heady and captivating one. He wanted to savor the experience for everything that it was worth.
Meeting Elizabeth Weir

He had primed himself to meet with a high-ranking Starfleet officer and had planned his responses accordingly but the woman with auburn hair neatly coiffed into a bun and the grey sleeves of her rolled-up grey jacket was a civilian.

“Thank you for coming, Mr. McKay, and on such short notice. I hope we didn’t take you away from anything too pressing,” the woman began, as she stood up and came around from her desk to shake his hand.

“Not at all,” McKay managed to stammer return her warm, firm handshake.

“Allow me to introduce myself,” the woman continued. “The name is Dr. Elizabeth Weir, please have a seat and we’ll get started.”

“I would first like to say that the project we’ve contacted you for is very exciting. It is one which combines the best of both worlds, in a sense it would pool the talents of many divisions within the both Starfleet and the peoples of the Federation.”

“How so?” asked Rodney his interest and his curiosity both at once piqued although he tried his best not to let it show on his face.
Elizabeth smiled. “We’re calling it Project Atlantis. And it wills the first of what we’re enthusiastically hoping will be the first of many deep space stations.”

“Atlantis, huh,” Rodney grunted, adding, “A little on the grandiose side as far as names go. And for the record, I’m not really one for space stations because I’ve spent most of my life planet-side.”

“I understand,” Elizabeth replied. “Have you had a chance to go over the material we sent you?”

“Yes,” Rodney, may I ask who was responsible for the exterior design, the architecture isn’t like anything I’ve ever seen coming out of the Starfleet core of engineers.”
“That’s part of the charm, if you’ll pardon the expression,” she continued. “Much of the station’s core infra-structure was already there.”

“How can that be? Logically, that doesn’t make any sense,” remarked McKay, “By that logic it would mean that S.E.C and the Federation would have had to reverse-engineered pre-existing technology. And that’s never been attempted in the Federation before, at least not to my knowledge.”

“Of course, once the shake-down part is over and we’ve had an opportunity to brief the crew, we’ll have a lot of work on our hands to make it serviceable.”

“Are you saying that the station was there before Starfleet got to it?”

Elizabeth answered: “In a sense yes, but nobody knows who built or why or why they abandoned it. And us none of our neighbors are contesting for owner-ship it was felt it was perfect opportunity to use it a first contact, launching-off point.”

“While I’m not exactly saying no to the offer, but it does sound intriguing, I just have to wonder if there might be a reason it was abandoned.” Rodney hedged.

“I understand your concern as a man with your reputation and as a man of science to take the cautious route; I want you to encourage you to take the plunge and make a leap of faith,” exclaimed Elizabeth leaning forward and clasping both of his hands in her own. “You won’t regret it!”

“Famous last words,” murmured Rodney under his breath and before he could harbor any second thoughts or think better of his decision, he gave Elizabeth Weir’s hands a gentle squeeze and said. “Okay, I’m in.”

Elizabeth Weir smiled and then threw her head back, letting go her grip on his hands. She pulled down the hem of her gray jacket and replied: “Glad to have you aboard, Mr. McKay.” And if I may be so bold, I have a feeling that you won’t regret your decision to join us.”

Rodney McKay snorted and tried to keep the sarcasm from his voice, “Famous last words, Dr. Weir. But I think I’m willing to give this mission the benefit of the doubt.”

“That’s all I ask,” she replied with a bright, cheery smile, as she stood up and shook hands with him.
Somewhere along the way Rodney had learned that he needed to reevaluate his pre-conceived notions about what to expect when embarking on the Atlantis mission.
The trip from Utopia Planita to the new station took longer than they had thought it would, but then again, he had never been a good judge of time, so might well have been mistaken. Rodney did not see much of Dr. Weir who had escorted him aboard and established him in the guest quarters and said that she had to some last minute administrative duties to attend to and that she would check in on him when they arrived.

Rodney did not mind that much, he had been half-dreading from the way Weir had been going on about the station and its mission would involve a bunch of rigmarole and having to make face-time with Starfleet brass. One he didn’t care for mingling, or social functions, and two, he just felt wrung out and left to dry on a line, so he might as well get some rest, even if he’d unable to sleep.

He’d just finished the chapter on something called “naquada reactors’ which he’d never heard off when he felt a distinct difference in the thrum of the ship’s engines and a thump. He set the dossier he’d been reading on and off during the trip and stood up, trying to straighten the rumples in his suit jacket as best he could with his hands, wondering if she fix the rats-nest that his hair had become in the course of his past four restless nights.

Over the ship’s intercom he could hear the voice of the transport’s captain announcing to all the passengers that they’d arrived at Space Station Atlantis. His small guest quarters not at all in the way of affording an optimum view of the station that would now be his new home for the foreseeable future.

Rodney completed cleaning up his appearance, and when that was done, ran out to the corridor, then to the turbo-lift, and from there to bridge not caring in the least if he discomfited any of the crew along the way in his head-long dash.

Weir was there when he got to the bridge and for her part, acknowledged his presence with a brief nod and a very small smile, and then turned to glance out the viewport.
He turned to look out as well.

McKay’s first glimpse of Atlantis station was one he thought that he would never forget, that it was one that, hyperbole aside, would be forever etched upon his memory. Atlantis was from space was breath-taking, it had angular lines rising up in row upon row of narrow angular towers; the docking ports edged out from the main body of the station providing access and egress with a minimal amount of fuss.

“Well, what do you think?” asked Elizabeth, and in the tone of the question it was almost as much a question as it was a challenge, as if she had already taken on the pride of ownership of the place and was daring him to find fault with it.

“It’s breath-taking,” McKay replied.

“It is, indeed,” she replied.

If the exterior was unexpected the interior of the station was equally unexpected, but he’d gotten over his slack-jawed knee-jerk reaction and was now harboring more than a few questions about the why and wherefore of the station’s purpose. Oh he’d read up on it, he’d gone over the mission statement with Dr. Weir, but he still couldn’t put all of his proverbial ducks in a neat row.

He and Dr. Weir carried their luggage and then passed through an access corridor that connected the docking area to the hull of the station allowing egress and ingress to the main body of the station and then through a corridor past an armed security escort.

Rodney almost reflexively flinched when he felt that their gazes lingered on him overly long, but refused to complain about it; after all, it could have been just his over-active imagination playing tricks on him.

For her part, Elizabeth, who had spent a great deal of time in the academic circles of both the Federation and in Starfleet prior to landing the assignment as the civilian liaison to the Atlantis mission, herself could not prevent looking around in wonder.

Up until now she had only been in on the planning and administrative phases, not to mention, a little recruitment, as in the case of securing Dr. Rodney McKay at Starfleet’s ship-building facility. But until now had the chance to actually lay eyes on the reality; and the reality was more, so much more than even she had dared to imagine it would be.

One of the officers of the military escort, a handsome tall, well-built, young man whose brown hair was cut in the regulation crew-cut caught her eye and gave her a saucy wink. Major John Sheppard had been with Starfleet a long time and while he’d been accustomed to serving aboard starships instead of stations, he’d discovered that he really didn’t mind the change of pace.
Elizabeth was not at all sure what to make of it, but whatever she would have said to that was lost in the press of another passengers and their escort leading base the embarkation, security and through the station to the briefing room.


The table was a horse-shoe with seats for more than just himself, Dr. Weir and the officer with the brown-crew-cut hair who had led the security detail when they’d arrived, joining him where three other people, a shorter man with a much more serious main than his immediate superior who Elizabeth greeted as Major Lorne, and three others.

“I’m certain that everyone would prefer to get situated after a long journey, but I’ll have to ask you to patient for a little while longer,” stated Elizabeth, taking a seat and inviting the others to do so as well.

“You’re the civilian liaison, Dr. Weir, isn’t it?” asked the taller officer.

“I am,” she replied.

“Ma’am,” he said. “Lieutenant John Sheppard, at your service, I figure we’d best get off on the right foot, figuring as we’ll be working together.”

“I reckon so,” she replied with a grin.

Gesturing with his thumb of his right hand Sheppard indicated the other officer present, saying as he did so, “This is my second-in-command, Commander Evan Lorne. Say hello, Lorne.”

“Hello,” Lorne dutifully replied.

“He’s a bit shy around strangers but give him time, he’ll come around,” said Sheppard.

For his part Lorne blushed and furrowed his brow at his commanding officer but refused to be baited.

“And last but certainly not least, our Chief Medical Officer, Dr. Carson Beckket.”

“Top of the evening, to ye all,” rumbled Carson, and if his pronounced accent did not give away his country of origin the white and blue cross on his the shoulder of his uniform certainly would, and Rodney wondered if they’d all be issued a uniform with similar indicators.

While this meandering thought crossed his mind Elizabeth Weir began.

“Allow me to introduce two new civilian members of our station, “ Elizabeth Weir was saying, “This is Specialist Ronon Dex and our consultant in first contact with neighboring alien cultures, Teyla Emmagan, oh, before I forget to mention this, she’s also in training to be our station counselor.”

Even as Rodney stared up at the man with the coffee-colored skin and the black dread locks which contrasted in a good way with the ankle-length camel trench coat, Rodney was thinking that there ought to be some kind of rule against anyone being that tall. For one thing it made he seem more intimidating and for another it was almost an affront to those whose stature was more vertically challenged.

“Pleased to make your acquaintance, “said Teyla offering her hand.

“Uh, nice to meet you,” Rodney managed, shaking her hand hoping that this calm, dignified young woman did not notice just how cold and clammy his hand was when he shook her hand in return.

When he’d reclaimed his hand and stuffed his hands in a pocket of his jacket, Rodney asked her, “Uh, if you don’t mind me asking, where are you from?”

“I don’t mind at all,” Teyla replied. “I’m from one of the remote Federation colonies; my people are called the Athosians.”

“Never heard of them,” Rodney said with perhaps a little more asperity than he had intended.

Teyla seemingly didn’t seem to mind the perhaps unintentionally hostile tone in McKay’s voice because she shrugged and replied, ”I am not surprised that you have never heard of my people, Dr. McKay Up until now we have very much been a tribe of nomads; migrating from one world to another as our needs and numbers have warranted. It was only until now that we have settled on one particular world to call home.”

“Ronon here is a different story,” Elizabeth said.

“My world was on the fringes of the original Vulcan home-world, it was caught up in the gravitational shock-waves when that world was destroyed,” said Ronon Dex stoically.

“Did your world survive?” Sheppard asked, wondering if the question was too much of the prying nature.

“The planet survived, the inhabitants were forced to evacuate, not all the ships made it out,” replied Ronon as if that simple stoic statement summed up the totality of the tragic experience.

When Teyla heard that her darkly beautiful mobile features seemed to glow with the shared feeling of compassion and sorrow for his loss, “You have my deepest sympathies for your loss. If there is anything I can do for you, Mr. Dex, please do not hesitate to ask.”

“Oh, “Sheppard breathed. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

Ronon Dex gave a brief nod of his head in acknowledgment of the sentiment and subsided back into his chair.

“Now, that we’ve all had a chance to become acquainted, our first order of business is to get our ‘house’ in order, within four days Starfleet’s flagship will be arriving for a brief inspection and I want this place humming on full cylinders.”

“The flagship?” asked Sheppard, surprised.

“Yes, the Enterprise,” Weir replied. “I understand that the new captain is, shall we say, a little unorthodox himself, so, we might want to work that it into our plans.”

“What’s his name?” Teyla asked.

“Captain James T. Kirk?” replied Elizabeth.

“What’s the T stand for?” asked Sheppard.

“Tiberius, I believe,” Elizabeth replied.

“With a middle name like that I’d shorten it to an initial too,” chortled Sheppard.

“Now, Mr. Sheppard, be nice,” chided Elizabeth.

“I was being nice,” retorted Sheppard.

“Well,” huffed Elizabeth, “that’s all for today, you all can get settled in and we’ll reconvene here again at 0900 hours station time. Does anyone have anything to add?”

Seeing that none of the others seated at the table did, she stood up and wished everyone a good night and then left the briefing room.</lj-cut) Continued in chapter 2: "Thursday's Child"