Lost Stars in an Empty Sky
Introduction and teaser.
Struck by the dreaded combination of writers block and new ideas I'm afraid this little story hit me and wouldn't let me go. The more I looked at it the more interesting it became so here we go.
This is a Doctor Who crossover (that makes three I'm working on and a fourth planned!) crossing with Stargate SG1, set some where just after season 10 but before the TV movies they are working on.
I'm also going to make a couple of assumptions; first and most important of which is that the "original" SG-1 (with Jack) have bumped into the Doctor more than once(leaving space for a possible prequel). They don't know much about him, only little bits that they gleamed from U.N.I.T. records and the fact that Time Lords are far more advanced. The other is a little "Good Luck Charm" of Doctor Jackson's that he often forgets...
I don't own the concepts used from Doctor Who or the characters, concepts and everything else I'm using from Stargate SG-1. That's the property of the BBC and Double Secret.
He was running, running for his life. The timeless streets were empty and the twin suns burnt. Their endless ray's innocently bleaching ancient eternal marble. The streets and corridors were empty.
Throwing his robes away he stumbled over his own feet, falling head first into a water garden. Coughing weeds and scented water he rolled onto his back, long brown hair falling into his eyes. 'No! no no no no!' High above little black dots gathered in the orange sky. He could feel the universe become tense, monumental events that would shape everything that ever came gained momentum. 'No!' the man screamed into the amoral universe.
He wasn't going to die here. That single thought dominated his mind. His fear washing all traces of his ancient heritage and noble honour from his actions.
Scrambling on all fours he ran, he crawled, he stumbled, he fell, he flew. In that chasm between planet and star a great fleet of ships slid through time and space, bent on destroying everything his people had created. In that sea of night a single blue box floated, executing a desperate plan. They had all agreed, the death of the Daleks was worth their own destruction. The protection of all life was worth that sacrifice, there was no greater enemy.
Except fear. Terror. A pair of black, formless, hands that clasped his hearts, ripping him of his wits and bravery. He ran still, deep under the City-dome to the edge of the great citadel. To the very edge of his world. The docks.
Down the empty corridors, the bare streets, he ran. Not even the plants, gathered from the garden worlds across time and space, dared to touch the polished floor. Hs foot steps echoing from featureless walls, as if they were the warning of what was coming.
He had made it to the docks. Half grow ships lined the walls, endless caverns filled with milky eggs. Formless TARDIS, never awoken. He didn't care. High above the great Eye of Harmony ripped itself from its prison beneath the panoptican. The win suns forced together, folding upon each other and forming an immense nuclear fireball. The power locked in the heart of the imprisoned black hole burst forth.
The solar system burned...
'Jackson! Jackson wake UP!' Mitchell shook him awake.
'Urr what happened?' Jackson blinked and looked around. Mitchell and the rest of SG-1 had found him fast asleep in his lab. That wasn't where he was supposed to be. 'What's wrong?'
'Erm it's ten hundred... ten o'clock.' Sam looked down to Jackson. The archaeologist looked back blankly. 'The mission was oh-nine-thirty. Half nine.'
'The mission!' Jackson jumped to his feet, banging his knee on his table. 'I'm sorry... I'll get ready... Tell Landry I'll be right there.' Dodging around Teal'c Jackson made it to his door.
'Oh Daniel?' Vala called mockingly as he ran out. The archaeologist poked his head back in;
'Yes?' He asked as she threw something to him. It was a good sized fob watch, rusted and battered but still in working condition apparently. It was Jackson's often forgotten good luck charm, he looked at it like it shouldn't have been there. 'Thanks.' He called back and ran down the hall.
'Daniel always forgets that silly thing.' Sam laughed. 'and whenever he does something bad happens.'
That's why O'Neill always calls it the good luck charm?' Mitchell waved the team though the door. That was true, his forgetting of it actually lead to the old rumour of how forgetful the archaeologist was.
'Yep.' Sam grinned.
'... And I don't feel like an exiting day.' Vala supplied.
'Indeed.' the Jaffa with new grey streaks in his hair agreed. The big guy still refused to tell them what had happened in that alternate timeline. Other than smiling benevolently at odd times.
'Well with the Ori in retreat, the Goa'uld dying out in their droves, the Alliance wiped out by the Ori and not a peep from the Replicators for a year or more now I'd say we were about time for a good boring mission. It can be a holiday.' Mitchell grinned to his team.