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These Are The Voyages (1/1)

These Are The Voyages (1/1)
Characters: John Sheppard, Rodney McKay, Laura Cadman
Pairings: John Sheppard/Rodney McKay
Summary: It was a dark day when the crew of the Starship Atlantis buried their beloved captain, Elizabeth Weir.
Notes: It was icing and snowing on my drive home today. At one point, my tires lost grip and began to spin. This is what popped into my mind as my life flashed before my eyes. Because, yes, a SGA/Star Trek: Voyager mash up is just what we all need. (No actual VOY characters occur in this fic, though the overaching premise is the same).

1) Yes, the Borg are the Asurans in this situation. 2) I had more fun figuring out who would be what species than I shoould. 3) VOY S2E8, "Persistence of Vision," which is admittedly one of the lesser VOY episodes, is passingly referenced here. 4) Yes, that's a Star Wars reference. 5) I'm not sure what happened with this fic, or how it it happened, or why. But here it is.

It was a dark day when the crew of the Starship Atlantis buried their beloved captain, Elizabeth Weir.
They had come a long way since the Badlands, when their three-month mission to study the spatial phenomena that made that sector so dangerous had turned into a seventy-year attempt to return home from the far edges of the Gamma Quadrant – Captain Weir, especially. Nothing in her Starfleet career had prepared her for the enemy that they had found or the lonely war Atlantis and her crew had to fight across every light-year of the voyage, but she had more than risen to the task. Her name would have a place in the annals of Federation history beside Kirk, Picard, and O’Neill, just as soon as they found a way of getting back to Federation space.
Now Weir is dead, killed during a Borg attack that had taken all of them, war-weary as they were, by surprise, all the more so because no one had expected to encounter the Borg here, on the far side of the galaxy, so removed from any warp-capable civilization of note that it would be laughable if it didn’t make their journey all the harder.
There’s no formal ceremony when her taciturn Vulcan first officer and chief of security, Lieutenant Commander Sheppard, takes over as captain. He just shows up on the bridge the morning after her funeral, collar device unchanged, and carries on. He doesn’t sit in her chair. He doesn’t enter her ready room. He scarcely even acknowledges the fact that the captain he’d served so loyally for half his Starfleet career is dead. He just… carries on.
After six weeks, the remaining bridge crew decides this requires action.



“Why do I have to talk to him?” Rodney asks, askance. “I’m pretty much the last person to that should be talking to him about this. Or anything.”
“You’re half-Betazoid-“ the new chief of security, Lieutenant Cadman, begins, twisting awkwardly in the Jefferies tube he’s trying to complete repairs to the deflector dish in to better face him, before being cut off viciously with-
“If it’s a Betazoid you want, take Zelenka. I make emotions worse, not better, when I can pick them up at all which, in case you haven’t noticed, is something Vulcans tend not to appreciate.”
Cadman carries on undaunted, “-and chief engineer, which makes you the new first officer by default, unless you want it to be a hologram-“
“I thought you liked Carson.”
“-and,” she finishes with an air of finality, “his best friend. I get that you’re upset about Captain Weir – we all are – but Sheppard is captain now. It’s time he start acting like it.”
“Again I ask, what do you expect me to do about it?”
“Hell if I know,” Cadman shrugs. “But you’re the only one he’ll listen to, so it’s up to you. Try quoting The Teachings of Surak or something.”
“He hates Surak.”
“See? There you go! That’s already more than any of the rest of us knows. Hey, do you know how old he is? Zelenka’s got a pot running. Whoever guesses the closest gets like a month of holosuite time and enough replicator credits to build another Atlantis. Well, a one-tenth scale replica maybe.”
Rodney frowns. “You’ve been on the same crew as Sheppard for three years. How can you not know anything about him?”
“We share bridge shifts, not lunch. Or, you know, breakfast – or lunch – the way you two do.”
“You’ve obviously not been paying attention recently,” he mutters, but Lieutenant Cadman doesn’t hear him, or else choses to ignore the comment entirely, instead patting him on the shoulder.
“Thanks, McKay. I knew I could count on you.”



Most Vulcans can’t stand to be in the same room a Betazoid without extensive mental training and decades of meditative discipline, but Lieutenant Command Sheppard isn’t most Vulcans. For one thing, he’s remarkably easy going; if any of the crew thinks Sheppard reserved, they’ve simply never met another Vulcan. The fact alone that he choses to go by Sheppard rather than some more traditional rendering of his Vulcan name says everything there is to say, really. The guy is the closest thing a Vulcan can be to human without having a drop of human blood in them, and if the rest of the crew doesn’t see that, well, they’re bigger idiots than Rodney thought.
Even so, if Rodney had been a normal Betazoid, they probably never would have hit it off as they did. Granted, Rodney’s only half-Betazoid and spent the vast majority of his formative years being shuttled between Earth and Betazed, spending more time on Federation personnel transport vessels than with children his own age of either species. The chief engineer of one of these, the Elysium, had gotten tired of seeing Rodney reading alone in a corner of the mess and had taken him under his wing, and taught him everything he knew on their voyages together. By the time Rodney joined Starfleet, he knew enough to breeze through the Academy in two years, taking advanced courses and generally showing up his professors.
Anyway, in addition to being more mechanically inclined than most of his father’s species, Rodney never actually learned to control his telepathic abilities. Occasionally he can pick up a strong emotion or two if he is in close proximity to someone, but it is a sporadic thing he can mostly ignore. The end result is that Rodney has less telepathic ability than most humans, making him even safer for a Vulcan with a tenuous grip on his emotions to be around.



“You’re going to have to forgive yourself sometime,” Rodney says when he finally manages to override the last of the locks their new captain had placed on his quarters, “mostly because Elizabeth’s death was not your fault. Also, what’s with all this?” he gestures at the candles scattered throughout the room and the place where Sheppard still sits, cross-legged. “I thought you said the whole mediation thing was an out-dated social construct designed to keep your people from questioning the foundation of your society. Or something.”
Sheppard doesn’t so much as open his eyes. “In light of recent events, I have reconsidered my position.”
“So what? You feel guilty, so you’d rather get rid of all your emotions than admit it wasn’t your fault.”
“I’m not- It’s not-“ Sheppard begins in frustration, first opening his eyes and then clambering awkwardly to his feet. Fiercely, “Elizabeth is dead,” he says. “I’m captain now. I’ve got to get my priorities straight. I can’t be- I’ve got to be-“
Suddenly, Rodney understands. “Elizabeth didn’t die because we had sex,” he counters viciously, his own grief and anger at being ignored by his best friend for the last six weeks seeping through. “She died because the Borg attacked-“
“She was only on duty when they attacked because she switched shifts with me-”
“So you’d rather you were dead instead?”
“Yes!”
There’s a beat of silence, then, “I’m sorry you take such a dim view of our relationship.”
“We don’t have a relationship.”
The only reason he doesn’t storm out is because he can feel underneath all his cold, harsh words the same thing he’d felt from Sheppard that night, when Sheppard had surprised him with three hours on the holosuite after a week of mundane repairs that threatened to drive him crazy and Rodney had surprised him by leaning over and kissing him beneath the artificial moon. It’s the same thing he’s felt from Sheppard for years now, ever since the crew had been made to hallucinate what they most wanted by a rouge Bothan; the same thing he’s felt for Sheppard ever since he realized he isn’t like other Vulcans. “We play chess together,” Rodney says as calmly as he can manage. “We take our leaves together. We’ve eaten almost every meal together since we met. Apparently, I’m the only one on Atlantis who knows how old you actually are, or how long you’ve actually been serving in Starfleet, or any of the things you security types normally love to talk about, and, occasionally, we have sex. What do you think that makes this?”
“That’s why I have to do this.”
“No, that’s why you have to stop this I am Vulcan, I feel nothing crap and start acting like yourself.”
“You’ve no idea what I feel for you.”
“I think I have some idea,” Rodney says wryly, moving inside the ring of candles in which Sheppard still stands, looking a little bit lost and far too broken. As bad as Rodney is with emotions, Sheppard is worse.
“It scares me how much I love you. I’d destroy whole worlds for you. I’d let Atlantis be taken if it meant keeping you safe. But I’m captain now. Better to be empty than to put the ship in danger.”
“That would never happen.”
Sheppard shakes his head violently. “The probability-“
Don’t ever tell me the odds.
A ghost of a smile passes over the Vulcan’s face. It disappears quickly. “Don’t make this harder than it already is.”
“Don’t be an idiot,” Rodney says and kisses him soundly.
Sheppard makes only a token resistance before deepening the kiss, pulling him closer and holding him there until at last Rodney is forced to break away for oxygen.
“I would never let you put Atlantis in danger because of me. You’re going to have to trust me on that.”
“You’re the only one I’ve ever trusted.”
“Blind leading the blind,” Rodney mutters.
“What was that?”
“Nothing,” he answers, and kisses Sheppard again.



  • 7 comments
You know how enthusiastic I am about the concept of this, and the execution was perfect. Of course John would blame himself for Elizabeth's death, though he really shouldn't, and of course he'd try to push Rodney away. I really love that Rodney is the only one who knows John, though it makes me worry that John may be lonely. I really love that Rodney refuses to give up on them and won't let John push him away, and it ends in kisses ♥ This fic just makes me so happy!
IDK. I'm still unhappy with the ending, but that's how I always am, I guess.

I'm glad it lives up to your expectations though. In the end, that's all that matters. (Though I'm still chortling over the idea of a half-Betazoid Rodney. I think that will amuse me until the end of my days).
That's cause it's not over. Great stories make people (even the writer) want more.
I don't know the first thing about Voyager but I really liked this. John and Rodney make the perfect pair, each of them an oddity to their own kind in a way that makes them so well suited to each other. So good!
VOY is the red haired step child of ST, but it is the ST that fits SGA best. But there's really nothing of VOY here other than the overall premise of being in the Gamma Quadrant.

Anyway I'm glad you enjoyed. It was fun to write.
  • 7 comments