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Different tastes, different stories, and all are different characters at best.


Multi_Chari
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SGU: Destiny's Gift
Even I...


8. Into the Light



Ophir entered the Gate Room, finding it still partially empty. Taking the stairs two at a time, he stopped on the balcony across from the Stargate and watched the little people mingle. Stepping away from the railing, Ophir walked slowly to his corner. He sat down and swung his legs over the edge. He watched as everyone gathered, chatting, and oblivious to the arrival of Scott and Greer on the balcony. They looked down on the crowd below, Scott looking up and turning when Young arrives.

“Everyone here?” Young asked.

“All here, sir,” Scott affirmed.

Sighing, Young started to descend the stairs as he called out, “If I could have your attention?”

The crowd fell silent and Ophir shifted enough to see the Colonel as he started to talk. “You've all heard about our situation. It sucks. I'm going to repeat the facts so that we are all clear.”

He stopped a few steps from the bottom of the stairs and leaned back against the banister. “In just over a day, this ship will fly into a star. Now, we have no power to change its course. We have no idea how to steer the ship. Even if we did, we are having another bad day.” The crowd nodded in agreement and murmurs. Young went on. “So here's what we're gonna do. We have a working shuttle. We think there are three planets out there that might be habitable. Now, we think ... we believe that it's no coincidence that Destiny dropped out of F.T.L. in this solar system, to give us a chance. Now, once we know for sure that there is a planet out there for us, we are going to have a lottery.”

Murmur of shock and surprise raced around the room. Even still, Young added, “We will draw the names of fifteen people.”

“The shuttle can hold twice that many,” Brody broke in.

“Not once it's been loaded up with supplies. Besides, there's only life support for seventeen, max,” Scott clarified.

Wray turned on Young. “You said fifteen.”

“I will be choosing two of the people myself - two people with the necessary skills to fly the shuttle and survive on the planet,” Young stated.

Sergeant Spencer added cynically, “Yeah, I bet I can guess who they are.”

A few, “Yeah!” went up throughout the crowd and Young walked down the remaining stairs, limping to the front of the crowd. “I'll be taking my name out of the lottery. Anyone who wants to join me, keep talking.” He looked at Spencer pointedly, who meets his gaze but doesn't speak again. A few members of the crowd muttered to each other, but kept their voices down. “We're still several hours away from knowing if the first two are even habitable, so I suggest you all go back to your quarters and wait it out. That's all I have for now.”

He turns and walks away. The crowd dispersed into groups, discussing what had just been said. Wray hurried after Young as Ophir stood. From the new height, it was easy to see Rush leaning against the Stargate, watching the activity around him. Ophir knew part of that was to keep away from the crowd and he watched as Rush left without even being noticed. Fingering the small watch under his shirt, Ophir started off to where he knew Rush was headed.

Sure enough, a good 15 minutes later, Ophir entered the shuttle to find Rush settling into the driver’s chair. The older scientist looked at him, watching as Ophir walked up to him and stopped a few feet away. The silence wasn’t heavy or unwelcomed but the younger’s gaze was. Finally, Rush stated, “There isn’t anything for you to do.”

The Scotsman turned his chair away from Ophir and the younger merely raised an eyebrow at the back of the chair. He walked over to the chair to the left of the back of the driver’s seat. It was suck up against the barrier wall that hid it from view of the shuttle entrance. Adjusting the console to what he needed, Ophir started to read the scrolling text in silence.

Somewhere in his reading, Ophir heard Rush talk to himself about something but didn’t pay attention to what was said. However, when the sound of Young entering the shuttle broke his concentration, he knew right away that Rush hadn’t been talking to himself.

“Sorry, you radioed me?” Young inquired, stopping short of the barrier wall.

Rush glanced up. “Ah, yes. Um, the first planet is too cold - frozen methane. The second is too hot. The third ... well, that happens to be behind the star at the moment, too far away to determine habitability.”

“When will we know?”

Rush shook his head. “It doesn't matter. We don't have any choice. We're gonna have to launch the shuttle before we can get close enough. The odds are good, though. Its orbit is in between the other two - the Goldilocks Zone, they call it.”

“Not too hot and not too cold.”

“Yes. Just right.”

Young offered, “What if we use the engines from the shuttle to push the Destiny off course?”

“That's a good thought, but, um, I'm afraid I've already run the numbers and, without getting into delta-V and thrust-to-weight ratios, then ...”

“Not a chance.”

Rush shook his head. “No.”

“Well, when do we launch the shuttle?”

“We could wait a few more hours, but the extra time - I don't think it's gonna give us any more information than we already have.”

“When the shuttle's loaded, then.”

Young turned and headed towards the door. Rush gained a thoughtful look that Ophir wasn’t sure he trusted before he called out, “Colonel Young.”

Young turned back to Rush.

“If, by chance, you were thinking of choosing me as one of the two…” Rush hesitated. “…please don't.”

“Why?”

“This ship…coming here…was my destiny. My life's work was to be here, not trying to survive on some rock with a bunch of strangers. In fact, you can take my name off the lottery altogether."

Young looked at Rush, surprised and with a new found respect for the man, even if just a small bit. “Look, Rush, I realize I should have listened to you sooner.”

“No-no, I wasn't myself.”

“Still, you were right.”

“It really wouldn't have made any difference.”

Young turned and started to limp away again. Rush spoke up again and Young turned back towards him. “Do you mind if I ask you who you are gonna choose?”

“Lieutenants Scott and Johansen.”

Figured, Ophir noted.

“I would have thought Scott and Greer, yesterday's heroes.”

Young gave a half smile. “I've got my fingers crossed for Greer.”

“Well, you can easily arrange that.”

"You mean fix the lottery?”

“Yes.”

“No.”

Rush shrugged. “There'll be those who'll think you did anyway.”

Rush went back to his notes as Young just stared at him in shock for a moment before leaving the shuttle. Ophir waited, knowing what was coming.

“Are you going to just sit there and watch me work or are you actually going to do anything?”

Ophir smiled gently, surprising Rush with the true emotion. “Just waiting till you noticed I was here.”

He stood, the smile slowly fading as he added, “I’ll be in the control interface if you need me.”

Rush nodded and Ophir left. As soon as Ophir was around the corner, he quickened his pace enough to catch Young alone in the corridor.

“Take my name out of the lottery,” Ophir stated, if not demanding. “I’ll reject it even if you don’t.”

Young looked at the younger, a bit surprised but not fully shocked. He nodded. “Done.”

He too was graced by the rare show of true emotion on Ophir’s face as the young man smiled a bit. “Thanks.”

Ophir stepped around Young and headed towards the control interface. He killed time there, reading through a few things, before he headed to the Gate Room at the call. He stepped around the crowd, settling against the back wall. He watched as the Gate Room quickly filled and shifted deeper into the shadows. Ophir noted various members of the military armed and watching the crowd warily. Young stood at the front holding an open case containing folded sheets of paper. Greer stood beside him.

“The names of every person in this room are written down on one of these pieces of paper. Doctor Rush, Demetri Ophir, and I have chosen to exclude ourselves. If anyone else feels the same way, now would be the time to speak up,” Young started. No one spoke. “If your name is chosen, you are to go directly up these stairs to the shuttle where you will be met by the two people that I have already chosen. Lieutenant Scott has pilot training and T.J.'s skills as a medic will be essential on the planet.”

Young looks around the crowd. “If your name is not chosen, you are to remain here until I receive word the fifteen are aboard and the shuttle's rear hatch is secure. Does anyone have anything to say?”

A long silence fell over the room before Young closed the lid of the case and tilt it a couple of times before shaking it. He put the case down again and opened the lid, taking out a sheet of paper. He unfolded it and read the name.

“Airman Becker.”

Becker looked up at the sound of his name before looking anxiously around at the people nearby.

“Go.”

Nodding, Becker headed for the stairs beside Young as the Colonel took a second sheet of paper from the case.

“David Walters.”

One of the civilians followed Becker up the stairs. Young took out the next sheet.

“Camile Wray.”

Wraye stared, startled, before heading for the stairs. She walked up them slowly, looking back down at her colleagues. Young glanced up at her before drawing the next sheet.

“Lieutenant James.”

Vanessa James was standing on the second stairway. She looked down at the Colonel uncertainly. He looked up at her, nodded, and smiled. She turned and headed up the stairs.

“Doctor Park.”

Park headed for the stairs. More people head up the stairway as their names are called and Ophir is nearly tempted to head back to the control interface. Young drew the next sheet of paper from the case.

“Mr Brody.”

Brody picked up his bag and made his way through the crowd. Various people pat his back in congratulation as he passed. Young drew the next name.

“Sergeant Riley.”

Hunter Riley bowed his head in relief before making his way forward. As he reached Eli, Eli held up the Kino and offered it to him. He took it and headed off for the stairway.

“And Doctor Boone.”

Boone picked up his bag and moved away.”

Young closed the case. “That's fifteen. We're done here.”

Some of the crew made distressed or upset noises. Spencer stormed forward angrily and Ophir pushed off the wall. Spencer barked, “You could fit more people on that thing.”

“Spencer, I need you to shut up,” Young nearly ordered.

Spencer turned around to the others. “Come on, people! If we don't do something right now, we're done!”

Some of the crew voiced their agreement. Someone even voiced, “You're right, we've gotta do something.”

Spencer turned back towards Young and Greer instantly stepped forward and clubbed him across the face with the butt of his rifle. Spencer collapsed to the floor and Ophir started to weave his way through the crowd. The crowd gasped as Greer spun his rifle around and aimed it down at Spencer. Spencer, however, was unconscious and Greer looked up at everyone else.

“Now, I don't wanna have to do that to anybody else…but I will.”

A crackle came over the radio and a voice spoke out. “This is Scott. Everyone's aboard. Rear hatch is secure.”

Young unclipped his radio and replied, “Give yourself a 60 second countdown, Lieutenant. Some of us would like to see you off.”

“Copy that.”

Young looked at the crowd in front of him. Eli headed for the stairs with Chloe on his tail. Others are unable to move, still shocked or grief-stricken that they weren’t picked. Young turned and walked away, Greer beside him. Slowly, the rest of the crowd diminished and left the room, all walking past Spencer's unconscious body.



...last for a while





 
 
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