Title: How Season 2 Won't Start
Author: Waldo. (thefannishwaldo)
Rating: PG
Pairing: Totally Gen
Spoilers: We REALLY need to get caught up. I always manage to write for the ep that comes on NEXT week. Spoliers for Kobol's Last...
Summary: Lords, Gods, Goa'ulds, Snakes... what if they were all one and the same?
Archive: bsg1000 and my site. Anyone else, please ask.
Challenge: X-Over Week.
Length: 1033 words.
Cigar to: Not this week. Couldn't kill the last 33 words. (Hm... 33... think that's significant? [g])
AN: I can't believe no one has beaten me to the punch on this one. It seems so obvious.




Cally and Crashdown had been evaluating some of the ruins as possible cover locations until the Galactica could locate them and send down some help.

Most of the buildings were destroyed, leaving only a column or a floor. A few had two or three walls, which might make a decent wind block if they couldn’t find anything better.

Cally was behind one such structure, trying to figure out the large stone ring left standing about a quarter click away from the largest, and most intact building. Crashdown came out of the building and saw what she was looking at. “What’s that?”

Cally shrugged. “There’s nothing else around it. Just those stairs at the bottom.”

“Well, this looks like it was a temple. Probably for Zeus, maybe Apollo,” Crash glanced down at Cally. “The Lord, not the CAG,” he clarified.

Cally grinned. “I know a few a girls who think there should be a temple built to the CAG.”

“Starbuck would kick their ass,” Crashdown said absently. “Anyway, for the time being, the temple looks like the most intact structure anywhere near here. We should get the chief and start moving the wounded in here; looks like it’s gonna rain.”

Cally nodded and they set off back to the crash site.


+++++

They’d made a litter out of an emergency blanket and a couple of tree branches and they were moving the injured to the abandoned temple. The dead could be buried later.

As they approached, Tyrol, in the lead, heard voices. “Everyone, quiet!” he whispered fiercely. The Raptor crew silenced their quiet mumbles and footsteps immediately.

A female voice called from within the temple. “Daniel? What does this say?”

Crashdown signaled for Cally to set down her end of the litter as he did the same. He crept up to the wall, waving the others back.

“Looks like something about ‘Lords of Kobol’. I’d guess they’re a group of minor Goa’uld. Maybe like the Linvris?” a male voice answered.

Crashdown slipped up to the window, his back flattened against the wall, and peered around to see through the hole. He watched for a minute and then went back to his crewmates. He knelt down, pulling them in close. “Alright, I don’t know who they are, or where they came from, but there are four people inside– “

The unmistakable sound of a weapon cocking cut him off. A flip voice said, “Actually, two of us, are now outside.”

He had a large gun in his hand and behind him was a very large man with a weapon none of them could immediately identify, but by the way it was glowing at the tip and sides, no one wanted to take chances with it.

The gray-haired man with the gun stepped forward, assessing the wounded, the harried look of the whole group. His eyes rested warily on the long-haired man in the back who seemed to be having an animated conversation… with himself.

“I’m Colonel Jack O’Neill. This is Teal’c. One of you in charge?”

Crashdown and Tyrol exchanged glances. Finally Crash stepped forward. “Alex Grahm – Lieutenant. They call me Crashdown.”

O’Neill peered behind him to the litter Socinus lay on. “I guess that would explain a lot.”

“We’re from the Galactica. You say you’re a Colonel, but you aren’t from the Galactica. Did another Battlestar survive?”

“Battlestar?” Jack asked, looking back to his companion, who merely shook his head.

“Look, we’re from Stargate Command. We’re explorers. We’re just here to check out the temple.”

“Well,” Tyrol interrupted, “We’re from the Battlestar Galactica and we’ve been shot down by Cylons, so if you don’t mind, we’d like to get our injured inside.”

“Ohmygods.”

Everyone turned to look at Cally. Cally looked back and forth before going up to the chief and whispering in his ear.

“Right,” Tyrol answered to whatever she’d said. He looked back at the man with the gun. “How do we know you aren’t Cylons?”

“Cylons?” O’Neill repeated, again turning to his silent companion. Hand still on the trigger, he activated the radio on his jacket. “O’Neill to Daniel.”

“Find something, Jack?” the radio replied.

“More like someone. You know the nice quiet, deserted ruins you promised me on this run?”

“Not so much with that now?” the radio asked back.

“Not so much. Want to get your translating ass over here and tell me what’s going on?”

“On my way.”

A few minutes later, a younger man and a blond woman (who, for a fleeting second Crashdown thought was Starbuck) came out of the temple.

The man approached them empty handed, but the woman trained her weapon on them as well.

“Hi. My name is Daniel Jackson.” He spoke slowly, like he was talking to small children or a frightened dog.

“My name is Chief Petty Officer Galen Tyrol,” the chief answered slowly, looking at this new person with distrust. Why was he talking like that?

“We’re explorers. Is this… Do you know who left these ruins? They look like they might have been followers of Zeus, but I’m also seeing references to Artemis, Aphrodite, Apollo –“

Crashdown shook his head, “Look, right now we just want to get our injured tended to and get out of the view of the Cylons.”

“Ah! There – that word. Daniel, what the hell’s a ‘Cylons’?” O’Neill seemed impatient.

“I don’t know, Jack, but they seem to speak pretty good English, did it ever occur to you to ask them?”

“That’s what I have you for,” O’Neill muttered. “Look, let’s get your people inside, Lieutenant. You don’t seem to be armed, maybe we can stop pointing guns at you and you can tell us what the hell is going on.”

Crashdown nodded. “Fine.” He signaled to the group to move everyone inside. It wasn’t much warmer inside than out, but it did get them out of the wind and under cover.

As Carter helped Cally and the chief tend to the wounded, Crashdown, Daniel and Jack moved into a quiet corner to talk.

“So, you aren’t Colonial Fleet officers?” Crash asked.

“No, we’re United States Air Force. From Earth,” Jack said.

All movement from the Galactica crew stopped. “Did you just say ‘from Earth’?”