New Arrivals Must Clear Customsby Pouncer |
| The briefings started the minute they disembarked from the Daedelus. "Atlantis 101," soon to be followed by "Atlantis for Dummies" but first they get the gene therapy and some free time. Doctor Beckett injected all the new arrivals (all that agreed to it) and told them to wait a few hours, return to the infirmary, and try to turn on a life signs detector he'd liberated. Major Lorne wandered the halls of Atlantis, found his quarters by accident, and unpacked his belongings, which had been delivered by unknown means. Then he went to find lunch. He might as well get acclimated to Atlantean Standard Time. The mess hall was well lit, full of tables, and served by a cafeteria-style line. Lorne grabbed a tray and started to shuffle his way through a scrum of strangers. He caught snippets of conversation while he chose between the blue vegetable and the purple one, the mystery meat or the mystery fish. "As if Teyla would even consider going out with him!" "I know . It's kind of pathetic, really." The mess hall chefs looked at Lorne with narrow eyes when he tried to ask questions about the food. Okay, they'd been isolated for a year, they'd have developed customs. Traditions. Lorne could cope. "-- you hear anything about Bates' condition?" "Yeah, they said he's doing well in rehab. He can walk around his room now." "Awesome. Did he get the care package?" Dirty snickers were the only reply. Tray filled with unknown food ( You've eaten stranger on missions for the SGC, Major. Suck it up ), Lorne tried to locate a place to sit. This was worse than the first day of school. Join an established group and risk shunning? Go independent and look like a loser? Lorne decided on independent – a spot against a far wall, where he could observe the denizens of the city. The food tasted weird. Of course the food tasted weird. Atlantis had run out of Earth-provided groceries months ago, and the Daedelus' cargo holds were filled mostly with weapons and medical supplies. A group clothed in tan walked past, chattering about metabolomes and non-coding introns and cellular proteomes from M1K-439 . Lorne blinked, and took his last bite of blue vegetable. Time to locate the infirmary again. Why didn't they hand out maps during Atlantis 101? A few wrong turns, and few brief conversations with people who took pity on the poor lost Major, and Lorne washed up against the shores of the infirmary, not battered but perhaps a little bruised. He hovered in the doorway to Doctor Beckett's office and cleared his throat. The doctor looked up. "Yes? Oh, right, you're off the Daedelus." Beckett punched a few keys on his laptop, then reached into a drawer. "Here. Catch." A box-shaped projectile flew at Lorne, who put up his hands in self-defense. "Sorry about that," Beckett said. "I swear I'm better with close work." Oh God. Beckett was a surgeon too. Lorne made a vow never to get wounded, then stared at the rectangle in his hands. It showed two blinking dots in the center of a display, three or four other dots below them. "Did it work?" Beckett asked, stepping around the desk and peering into Lorne's hands. "It did! Bloody marvelous." "What does this mean?" Lorne asked. They'd explained it, before he left Earth, but headquarters never knew the practical things the men in the field knew. "It means life here will be much easier for you," Beckett smiled. Lorne smiled back. Being able to light things up with a touch was freaky, but maybe he'd get used to it. He'd gotten used to aliens with glowing eyes. And Unas. After that, this would be easy. Sure it would. |
Notes: A placeholder ficlet forhistory_gurl as part of the Back to Basics: Atlantis story exchange. Disclaimer: All your SGA do not belong to me. Feedback is always welcome. Return to The Carousel |