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[personal profile] rc45
Title: Pathways
Author: skipgunner
Obligatory Linkage: http://www.fanfiction.net/s/3780358/7/Pathways
Sporked by: [livejournal.com profile] agenttrojie and [livejournal.com profile] tea_fiend
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: We don't own the PPC, and we don't own Stargate. We definitely don't own Pathways, and if we ever owned Kithra-Sue it would only be for the half an hour it would take us to think of, and apply, a really creatively painful death. The Stupid Generator is the brainchild of [info]synecdochic, and is used with permission. Technically contains spoilers for the movie 'Serenity' and for bits of SGA. Wash is the property of Joss Whedon. Thanks to [livejournal.com profile] cassie5squared for the beta.


Meanwhile, Pads had found herself rematerialised aboard the Wraith ship, with the canons. She stepped smartly backwards, and watched as Wraith came and herded the protesting canons away. She was right - the Word World was doing its best to conceal her. She just hoped, stealing down the dank and disturbingly organic corridors, that its efforts would extend as far as life-signs detection.

The canons were dumped unceremoniously into a cell. Pads watched from a convenient bend in the corridor, then checked the Words. It would be a little while before the Sue somehow appeared to rescue them, so she amused herself by going through the Words and counting how many stupid speech tags had thus far been inflicted on the canons.

Eventually, the sounds of quiet conversation came floating out of the cells, and she pulled herself to her feet and peeked around the corner at the canons.

Ronon was throwing knives at a panel on the opposite walls. So far, so canonical. But McKay, with an almighty groan, appeared to be regaining consciousness. Frowning, Pads checked the Words, then patted her pockets, seeking the everpresent notebook.

It wasn't there.

Improvising as best she could, Pads located a stub of pencil in the depths of a voluminous pocket, pulled out a packet of cigarette papers, and began noting charges.

'Making Rodney randomly unconscious... Suggesting Ronon keeps knives in close proximity to his genitals... Stupid speech tag number fifty-eight... Oh, look, a Sue. And where did you come from, little missy?' she muttered under her breath, scribbling furiously. 'Picked up by a dart? But then you'd be in a cell. Those wings, perhaps? And why are you stealing Ronon's "hair-full-of-knives" trick when you're a bloody pacifist?'

The Sue chose that moment to answer one of Pads's questions.

“I saw the dart take you, so I let them catch me.”

let a dart catch you?” Rodney scoffed.

Kithra shrugged.

“Are you saying you can outrun a dart?” John asked.

'Yeah, 'cause that's likely,' Pads said under her breath, still jotting down charges. 'Everyone knows culling beams don't exceed five miles an hour.'

The Sue, meanwhile, disappeared down the corridor. The canons, with seemingly no better ideas presenting themselves, followed the teenage girl through the Wraith hiveship and didn't talk about either capturing or exploding at all. Pads started plotting suitable ways to do away with the Sue.

'Gun? Too easy. Knife? Also too easy, although suitably messy. Pretend to be Wraith worshippers? Could be satisfying... wouldn't hurt to have them on our side...'

By the time they'd followed the Sue through some gratuitous Messianic imagery to a random cupboard containing the team's weaponry, she'd narrowed it down to dialling an orbital gate and throwing her through it, or making her swallow a hand grenade. Hiding behind another convenient corridor-bend, she glared at the canons once again.

John sighed, and patiently explained, “We can’t take a dart. Only Wraith can fly them.”

'Making Sheppard forget about The Lost Boys,' Pads muttered to herself angrily, teasing another cigarette paper out of its packet to note the charge, before following the canons and the Sue to the dart bay.


Back at HQ, Trojie was busy portalling with her redheaded pilot; Hoban 'Wash' Washburne from the Fireflyverse, rescued from a nasty death by stabbing in canon, revived by the miracles of Medical, and now assigned to the Department of Sufficiently Advanced Technology. Stacked around them in bags were eight tiny modified satellites, each containing a portal generator. Trojie had the master RA in her Bag.

'So, where are we going again?' asked Wash as they stepped through the portal, weighed down by technology.

'Deep Space Nine,' said Trojie airily.

'You mean, we're not hijacking a canon ship?'

'Well, do you have an Ancient gene?'

'A what-now?'

'Apparently,' said Trojie, who had been doing research, 'in SGA you can't fly a ship unless you have some spiffy special gene. So we need a spaceship from somewhere else.'

'This isn't in the rulebook I was given,' began Wash as they exited the portal. And then he grinned, seeing the USS Defiant before him. He rubbed his hands together. 'Screw the rulebook. I wanna fly that kite.'


The charges were flying thick and fast back with Pads in the Wraith ship.

'Opening a dart by poking it, more McKay-bashing, suggestion that the organic component in Wraith technology consists of tentacles...'

She trailed off, mouth agape, as she watched the Sue raping physics.

Rodney’s admiration turned to dismay as she gently rapped the rod against the console and the whole dart began to vibrate. “Resonant frequency,” he whispered disbelievingly. “It’s a tuning fork. It’s destabilizing the organic components of the dart.”

'It's a bloody metal stick! Resonance deals with metallic components,' Pads hissed, fists clenching. 'And this is not the Whoniverse! They have science that makes sense! Frequently, at great length, and at high speed! And Sheppard can fly the damned thing anyway!'

As she began banging her head repeatedly into the nearest wall, the dart took off, swept up the canons and, unfortunately, the Sue as well, and made with all haste out of the hiveship. Pads, by means of the RA, followed, portalling herself back to the planet's surface some distance from the hiveship.


'This thing is fast,' Wash said with every evidence of delight. Trojie, on the other hand, was clinging onto the wall, the chairs, and everything else she could find and trying very hard not to look out of the viewscreen. 'Coming up on dropping the last satellite,' the pilot added, and did so. 'You gonna push that button?'

Muzzily, Trojie looked at him. 'Can't,' she said. 'Pads and the canons are still on the planet.'

'So now what?'

'Drop me on the planet, I guess. Can you and the Defiant hang around for a bit?'

Wash patted the controls in front of him fondly. 'I could stand to spend a bit more time getting to know this lady,' he said. 'Find out how fast she goes, for a start.'

'We're going to need a speedy pickup,' Trojie said. 'And I don't trust those transporters. Mind actually dropping me planetside?'

'She can't break atmo. Sorry.'

'Crap. Transporters it is, I guess. Or a portal.'

'Your Remote Activator's set to set off those satellites. I wouldn't.'


Having been beamed to the planet's surface, Trojie followed the Words to her partner, feeling smug about the satellite emplacement. When she found her partner, the Animagus was practically spitting with rage.

'How goes the chargelist?' Trojie asked amiably, her thoughts on the upcoming explosion. Pads responded by thrusting a handful of Rizlas at her partner with a growl. 'Excellent. And the canons?'

'In that random cave, checking out a pile of corpses. It's sickening. And Rodney's being nice to the Sue.' As she pointed at the cave in question, the Sue and the canons exited it, and began making their way back to the stargate. Of the hiveship and the purloined dart, there was no sign. This struck Trojie as a little odd, but she decided not to mention it to Pads, in the interest of not setting her off again, and instead began sifting through the Rizlas that comprised the final two chapters of the chargelist. Pads continued giving the Sue the evil eye as she and the canons approached.

“Does that mean we’re going to keep her?”

“No, Rodney,” Teyla answered, smiling.

John clapped Rodney’s shoulder, “It means she’s going to keep us.”

'And Glod have mercy on the family that takes her in,' Pads said, looking revolted at this display of utter submission to Aura of Smooth. 'I hardly think they're going to be allowed to keep some useless kid in Atlantis, or send her out on missions. It's effectively a military base on the front line of a galactic war!'

'Look on the bright side,' Trojie soothed. 'It's the end of the fic. No more possible charges. We can kill her, any time you like. But first, would you like to see some fireworks?'

'Sure thing.'

'Wash, two to beam up,' said Trojie into something that looked suspiciously like a com badge, grinning like a madman. 'I've always wanted to say that,' she added.

Once aboard the Defiant, after some obligatory showing-Pads-the-ship time and introducing her to Wash, without much real ceremony, Trojie pushed the button on the RA. An enormous blue portal engulfed JTS-4FR.

'Pretty,' commented Wash.

'So, what's going to happen to this planet?' Trojie asked of Pads, as they watched the enormous mass sink into the portal.

'Oh, blue weapons fire, explosions, that sort of thing,' said Pads airily. 'Shall we go in and watch?'

'Are we going to be able to get out again?' asked Trojie.

'If we can fly and portal fast enough,' said Pads.

'If 'Warp Nine' does what I think it does,' said Wash, breaking in, 'then we can definitely fly fast enough. You'd best hold on to something though.'

'And I think I can make a portal big enough for the Defiant with this,' said Trojie. 'Failing that, does Star Trek Science still work when we're on a Stark Trek ship, even if we're not in the Trekverse?'

'Could be worth a try, why?'

'Because if it does, then all we need to do is hook this up to the deflector dish!'

'Does the Defiant-' Pads suddenly found herself with her partner's hand clamped over her face.

'Ssssh,' hissed Trojie. 'Don't let the canon know what you're thinking. Star Trek Science, remember? If we need the Defiant to have a deflector dish, then we cannot doubt for a second that it does!'

'You're mad,' said Pads, once she'd got free. 'But it might just work.'

And so our heroes went boldly forth into the Doranda system to watch it blow up. There was indeed blue flashy weapons fire. And a very, very big explosion.

'Flaming Denethor!' breathed Trojie, in awe at the sparkliness, before being thrown back in her seat and promptly throwing up into the Bag as Wash put the Defiant into hard astern. Pads, who'd been warned about Trojie's reaction to warp speed, had control of the deflector-dish-connected Remote Activator.

'Shall I push the button?' she asked of Wash.

'Yes, push the go tsao de button!' Wash roared as the Defiant hurtled backwards. 'That explosion is catching us up!'

There was a moment of calm, and suddenly the little ship was hurtling backwards past different stars.

'Where are we now?' he asked, slowing the ship down and eventually halting her.

Trojie uncurled slowly from her little ball of motion-sickness-induced misery, and said 'The Beta Quadrant. No-one from Star Trek ever seems to go here, so I figured it'd be safe for a few moments. Me'n Pads'll portal back to Atlantis from here, if you can take the Defiant back by yourself?'

'No problem,' said Wash chirpily. 'Nice doing business with the two of you.'

After a last check to make sure Trojie hadn't got any sick on the upholstery, the two Bad Slashers headed for their final confrontation with the Sue.

'How are we going to dispose of her, anyway?' asked Trojie. 'Did you decide, in the end?'

'Actually, you gave me an idea earlier,' said Pads with a gleam in her eye.

'I did?'

'Yes, you did. The phrase 'Flaming Denethor' suggest anything to you?'

Trojie's eyes also began to gleam.


The canon characters and the Sue were halfway through a vital senior staff meeting when two women dressed in black burst into the room, one waving a Wraith stunner and the other a bell and an enormous roll of duct tape.

Ronon leapt in front of the Sue protectively as soon as the door opened. She shoved him aside and was preparing to flee, when she was stunned by a blue bolt of energy. Ronon then leapt to cover her body protectively, but was also hit by the stunner, as were each of the other characters in rapid succession. As the last of them hit the floor, Pads twirled the Wraith stunner around a finger, and almost dropped it.

'Your air of suave sophistication needs some work,' Trojie pointed out, heading for the Sue with duct tape in hand and a calculating look in her eye.

'Hey, I'm not good with guns,' Pads protested. 'Now, wands on the other hand...'

'You can prove you're not a total klutz when we get back,' Trojie said, trussing up the Sue with practised ease. 'Reckon you can handle the neuralysation?'

'Sure thing,' Pads said, eyeing the canons and doing her best not to stare at Ronon.

'I'll see you on top of the spire-y thing then,' Trojie called, heaving the Sue over one shoulder and opening a portal. 'And no molesting the canons!'

'Would I ever?' Pads asked sweetly of the closing portal. Then, with all possible haste, she made for Ronon's hair.

By the time the canons started waking up a minute later, Pads had stuffed the purloined dreadlock into the unknowable depths of a pocket, and was twirling the neuralyser somewhat inexpertly. She shoved her sunglasses on and sprang to her feet as they groggily began clambering to theirs.

'Ronon, Teyla, Doctor Keller, Colonel Carter, Colonel Sheppard, and Doctor McKay, if you could all just look here for a second, this will all make perfect sense.'


'You're the members of an international scientific expedition, who ought to be trying to defeat the Wraith threat, forge new alliances, and investigate Ancient technology right now. You've never rescued a fourteen year old Runner from the Wraith, nor have you adopted her into your team or marvelled at her improbable technological skills.'

And with that, Pads headed off to meet up with her partner. She didn't want to miss the spectacular death of the Sue.


The Sue's teeth were chattering. It was cold on top of Atlantis. Trojie was rummaging in her Bag and chatting perkily to the girl. 'Now these,' she said, pulling a box of firelighters out, 'I stole from Newton Pulsifer. You won't know who he is, but I also got these from him. Dinky, aren't they?'

The 'they' in question were a pair of thumbscrews. 'Now, we'll just sit tight until my partner gets back. Won't that be nice?'

When Pads arrived it was to see the Sue squeaking in alarm and leaning as far away from Trojie as she could, while the Agent demonstrated the functions of a thumbscrew.

'Ah, good, there you are,' Trojie said, standing up and brushing herself off. 'It's brass monkeys up here. What - or should I say who - took you so long? And are they going to press charges?'

'I haven't the faintest idea what you're talking about,' said Pads with dignity. 'We should probably charge her before we set her on fire, shouldn't we?' she asked, poking the Sue in the arm and observing her with the air of an entomologist presented with a new and fascinating, but ultimately revolting, species of cockroach.

'I can't read your handwriting,' said Trojie, thrusting a handful of Rizlas and the notebook at Pads. 'You do it.'

'Fine.' Pads took a deep breath and began to declaim. 'Kithra-Sue, we representatives of the Protectors of the Plot Continuum do hereby charge you with the following crimes against the august and sovereign canon of Stargate: Atlantis: Inaccurate vegetation; not understanding how tracking works; bad sentence structure that breaks the flow of dialogue; OOC Ronon; insinuating that all of Atlantis takes recreational drugs; calling Teyla and Ronon alien; 63 counts of awful speech tags; Rodney bashing; making the Wraith use a fourteen year old girl as a Runner; inaccurate description meaning you can fly; making Ronon run around in plain view of a Dart (he's not stupid)-'

Here Trojie broke in. 'Being able to leap a ravine; the ravine in question having one side fully THIRTY FEET higher than the other, honestly, sometimes I can't believe-'

'Ahem! Making Ronon prone to pointless heroics; making him ignore orders and his own personal safety in order to rescue someone he's never met; making an entire Dart disappear into a fern frond; suffering retinal burns without any actual ill effects; anthropomorphising a Stargate by making it negotiate with the spacetime continuum. Actually, anthropomorphising the continuum as well; retarded metaphors; messing around with established procedure and not giving any explanation; being harder to subdue than Ronon; using scenes less than ten lines long; giving Rodney bagpipes through bad word choice-

She paused for breath, allowing Trojie to add, 'Making 'tibia' a proper noun and claiming that someone who is malnourished and dehydrated is in good health,' before launching back into:

'Speaking only to Ronon for no good reason other than to create a Speshul Bond between you and him; stupid naming scenes; making Sheppard say he wants to give you a name 'with spunk', thus disgusting the Agents; making McKay and Sheppard incredibly slow on the uptake; making McKay and Zelenka incapable of fixing a coffee machine; having a stupid name; giving the canons nothing better to do than run around after you; making Ronon bleed from his normal marine-training routine; giving yourself completely illogical speshul mechanical powers; being able to disassemble and reassemble weaponry you could never have seen before; making McKay wear a dressing gown in the lab just so he would look stupid; making McKay excited about something that's not a ZPM - '

'Tripping up Agents with retarded scene dividers.'

' - completing brain puzzles much faster than McKay, certified genius; making yourself much smarter than McKay; making the Chief Medical Officer follow you around despite your being healed; allowing yourself to survive three years without food; making Ronon know obscure English grammar rules and exceptions; messing around with languages and the established canonical method for getting around language problems for the sake of the fic, actually; outrunning Ronon despite your broken leg; prancing about in the gateroom; bonding with Ronon over parkour; making McKay fancy jelly; claiming that mechanical aptitudes are a survival instinct; messing around with established laws of geology; giving Atlantis metal rafters; setting the stargate on FIRE; claiming Ronon couldn't catch a fourteen year old girl; inventing a stupid planet that doesn't follow canon naming conventions; making the entirety of the canon cast wuv and protect you even when you don't actually appear to need it; making Ronon jealous over you; sending an entire team out on what is essentially a babysitting mission; dropping the characters into the core of a planet by bad description; repeatedly claiming that the 6ft 4in. Ronon is 'a giant'; insinuating that Ronon keeps sharp weaponry in his wedding vegetables; making yourself a pacifist and yet insisting you keep masses of concealed weaponry about your person; being able to outrun a spaceship and a culling beam; being able to somehow get into a hiveship, which is in SPACE, to rescue the canons; really spasticated science, even by the standards of, say, Star Trek Next Gen.; making the team way too trusting; being good enough at forensic anthropology to tell a male skull from a female one; making McKay too nice to you; and making Sheppard totally forget the events of "The Lost Boys". For these offences and for the supreme crime of Annoying the Agents, we sentence you to death. Trojie. Firelighters. Now.'

Trojie handed over the waxy little inflammables and stood back, watching as Pads extricated a box of matches from her pockets and approached the Sue. She stuffed a firelighter in the girl's mouth, filled her pockets with some more and then stood back, appraising her work.

'Trojie,' she said at last. 'I don't suppose, by any slim chance, you have any petrol or aviation fuel about you, do you?'

'It's funny you should say that,' said Trojie, rooting through the Bag, 'but actually, I did put some in here just in case we were ever trapped in an aircraft or miscellaneous hydrocarbon-fuelled mode of transportation-' She waved a flask at Pads, who snatched it.


The Animagus then proceeded to douse the Sue in high-octane aviation fuel and strike a match. She grinned evilly.

'Pads, just light it. The fuel's evaporating.'

Pads threw the match at the Sue, who went up like a torch and screamed like fury. Then she ceremoniously booted the girl off the top of the city.

'Flaming Denethor,' commented Trojie drily. Pads looked down at the boots, which were smouldering.

'Good boots, these,' she said, stamping them out. 'Smelly though they are. Home for tea and crumpets now?'


They portalled back to HQ, smelling of chargrilled Sue and petrol, and as usual were met by a cavalcade of fur, feathers and animal spit. They settled down to a fine high tea with crumpets and scones and jam and cream, and lived happily ever after, in fact. At least until-


Date: 2008-09-15 12:01 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] agent-tomato.livejournal.com
Eee, it's Wash!

Okay, I'm not even that familiar with SGA (although I know SG-1 pretty well) and even I could tell that Sue was horrible. The "Flaming Denethor" execution was very amusing.

An excellent mission.

Date: 2008-09-15 02:01 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] tea-fiend.livejournal.com
We were hopeful that the mission would be pretty accessible to people who don't know the canon, because Trojie knows nothing about it except that it contains an excellent beard. Pads explaining things to Trojie seemed a reasonable way of us explaining to the audience. Glad you liked!

Date: 2008-09-15 09:34 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] agenttrojie.livejournal.com
Yay, thank you.

And yes, we has a Wash. I've been plotting to recruit him ever since I saw Serenity and came out of the theatre crying 'Joss Whedon is a sociopathic murderer!'

Date: 2008-09-15 10:11 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] cassie5squared.livejournal.com
Congrats, ladies, it's a mission!

Just one point... "Wedding vegetables"? *snortgiggle* That's one I never heard before. I must have missed it.

Date: 2008-09-15 10:13 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] agenttrojie.livejournal.com
'Wedding vegetables' comes courtesy of James May of Top Gear, who also came up with 'gentleman's area.'

Date: 2008-10-29 06:57 am (UTC)
ext_85481: (Default)
From: [identity profile] hsavinien.livejournal.com
*restrains self from squeeing* Waaaash! Yay...he gets to play with new shiny ships. ^_^

Date: 2008-10-29 06:58 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] agenttrojie.livejournal.com
How he gets recruited (he's from an AU fic) is a story for another day, but yes, it's Waaaash!

Date: 2008-10-29 07:41 am (UTC)
ext_85481: (Default)
From: [identity profile] hsavinien.livejournal.com
He's so much fun. :)

Date: 2008-10-29 07:43 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] agenttrojie.livejournal.com
Yes, yes he is.


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