[CS/BSG] Terra Firma, 1/?
Jan. 3rd, 2008 12:23 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
Title: Terra Firma
Author:
chaletian
Fandom: Chalet School/Battlestar Galactica
Rating: PG
Characters: So far, Mary-Lou, OCs
Spoilers: Most of BSG; nothing specific
Summary: The survivors of the Twelve Colonies have been looking for Earth. What if Earth finds them first?
Author’s Notes: So, I was thinking how cool it was that here is where they want to be. And then I thought about how it would have to be an AU Earth because real Earth couldn’t be from the 13th colony, because our geology and history and all that are wrong. And then I thought that maybe we were only supposed to think that. And then I thought about Mary-Lou being an archaeology student…
Mary-Lou Trelawney wiped a dusty hand over her brow, and sat down with a bump.
“Gosh, it’s hot today,” she said, leaning over to pull a water bottle from her knapsack. Tony Stevens, one of her fellow archaeology students, looked over with a grin.
“It’s Athens, MLT,” he said, his tone only slightly mocking. “Of course it’s bloody hot!” Still, he collapsed in a heap at her feet, and helped himself to her water. They sat in companionable silence for a few minutes, admiring the landscape – only a couple of miles from the Parthenon, they had a remarkable view – until Mary-Lou jumped to her feet, and pulled Tony up with her.
“Come on, we don’t want the Prof complaining we don’t pull our weight.” She readjusted the headscarf which protected short gold curls from the worst of the dirt, and slipped into the narrow trench which ran the length of the dig site. Professor Matthews had been running the dig for quite some time, and the narrow steps leading into the earth were well-buttressed with stout wooden fixings.
“Whoever thought we’d get so deep,” said Mary-Lou, marvel in her voice as she patted one wall gingerly.
“It’s pretty amazing,” agreed Tony, as they descended further. “But, MLT…” his voice was hesitant, “have you noticed? I mean…”
“That we haven’t found much?” Mary-Lou stopped and turned, biting her lip. “Trinkets and bits of pot and masonry – but you can dig up someone’s back garden round here and find anything as good.”
“Exactly! So why’s he still digging?”
“Maybe he doesn’t want to admit there’s nothing here?” suggested Mary-Lou. “But what I want to know is, how is he still getting funding? He’s been out here, what, three years now? Even in London, I heard rumours about him losing it, but, well…”
“He’s the big man.”
“Quite. I thought it would be good experience.”
“Me too.” Tony scratched his cheek. “The whole thing is a bit rum. Even the Prof himself. Have you noticed?”
“The way he’s so sure there’s something big down here?”
“Yes, even though there’s nothing to suggest it. I mean, how is he so sure?”
Mary-Lou grinned. “Maybe it came to him in a dream!” They both chuckled, then another of students came up behind, and the were forced to continue.
“Anything new?” asked Tony, picking up the bag he kept his tools in.
“Nothing so far,” replied Harrolds, a grizzled man of indeterminate age. “Prof thinks he might be onto something, though.” He gestured towards the Professor, and though Mary-Lou and Tony exchanged raised eyebrows, they went over dutifully.
“Different sound quality over here,” Professor Matthews said briefly, one hand pressed against the rocky surface. He was younger than Mary-Lou had expected when she first signed on to the dig, no more than forties, with a carefully cultivated dark beard, and eyes which seemed to miss nothing. The whole thing had been unexpected really – all her experience had been on digs in England, where every shred of earth was carefully turned over and scrutinised. Here, the Prof thought nothing of getting a group of local men to go hammer and tongs, pulling down feet of earth and stone at a time. Two of them were working now, just beyond the Prof, digging busily – until one of them disappeared!
“There’s a passageway!” exclaimed the Prof, after a stream of excited Greek from the remaining digger, who pushed through to rescue his comrade. The Prof followed closely, the others not far behind.
“I say, he’s right!” said Mary-Lou, turning to Tony, eyes shining. “I say, Tony!”
“Passageway to what, though?” asked Tony, a little edgily. “What on earth’s down here?”
They trouped along the passageway, everyone eager to find out the answer to that question. It was unquestionable manmade, but nothing like any of them had seen before.
“How did they ever manage this?” asked Mary-Lou, her voice awed. “I can’t imagine… it’s… it’s amazing.”
Then the passage opened into a giant hall, dug out of earth and stone, and no-one had any words at all. The archaeologists, scattered, spell-bound, at the grandeur of the place they had found. Suddenly, Harrolds pointed up.
“Look!” The ceiling was split into 12 sections, each with a painting.
“It’s the zodiac,” said Tony, then pointed to the painting in the middle. “But… what’s that? I don’t recognise it.”
Professor Matthews moved forward as if in a dream, until he was standing almost directly beneath the painting, his neck craning upwards.
“Kobol,” he murmured. “Oh my God, it’s true.”
…
High above the earth, a man in a rocket suddenly pressed himself against the lone small window, and gaped in disbelief at what had suddenly appeared.
Author:
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
Fandom: Chalet School/Battlestar Galactica
Rating: PG
Characters: So far, Mary-Lou, OCs
Spoilers: Most of BSG; nothing specific
Summary: The survivors of the Twelve Colonies have been looking for Earth. What if Earth finds them first?
Author’s Notes: So, I was thinking how cool it was that here is where they want to be. And then I thought about how it would have to be an AU Earth because real Earth couldn’t be from the 13th colony, because our geology and history and all that are wrong. And then I thought that maybe we were only supposed to think that. And then I thought about Mary-Lou being an archaeology student…
Mary-Lou Trelawney wiped a dusty hand over her brow, and sat down with a bump.
“Gosh, it’s hot today,” she said, leaning over to pull a water bottle from her knapsack. Tony Stevens, one of her fellow archaeology students, looked over with a grin.
“It’s Athens, MLT,” he said, his tone only slightly mocking. “Of course it’s bloody hot!” Still, he collapsed in a heap at her feet, and helped himself to her water. They sat in companionable silence for a few minutes, admiring the landscape – only a couple of miles from the Parthenon, they had a remarkable view – until Mary-Lou jumped to her feet, and pulled Tony up with her.
“Come on, we don’t want the Prof complaining we don’t pull our weight.” She readjusted the headscarf which protected short gold curls from the worst of the dirt, and slipped into the narrow trench which ran the length of the dig site. Professor Matthews had been running the dig for quite some time, and the narrow steps leading into the earth were well-buttressed with stout wooden fixings.
“Whoever thought we’d get so deep,” said Mary-Lou, marvel in her voice as she patted one wall gingerly.
“It’s pretty amazing,” agreed Tony, as they descended further. “But, MLT…” his voice was hesitant, “have you noticed? I mean…”
“That we haven’t found much?” Mary-Lou stopped and turned, biting her lip. “Trinkets and bits of pot and masonry – but you can dig up someone’s back garden round here and find anything as good.”
“Exactly! So why’s he still digging?”
“Maybe he doesn’t want to admit there’s nothing here?” suggested Mary-Lou. “But what I want to know is, how is he still getting funding? He’s been out here, what, three years now? Even in London, I heard rumours about him losing it, but, well…”
“He’s the big man.”
“Quite. I thought it would be good experience.”
“Me too.” Tony scratched his cheek. “The whole thing is a bit rum. Even the Prof himself. Have you noticed?”
“The way he’s so sure there’s something big down here?”
“Yes, even though there’s nothing to suggest it. I mean, how is he so sure?”
Mary-Lou grinned. “Maybe it came to him in a dream!” They both chuckled, then another of students came up behind, and the were forced to continue.
“Anything new?” asked Tony, picking up the bag he kept his tools in.
“Nothing so far,” replied Harrolds, a grizzled man of indeterminate age. “Prof thinks he might be onto something, though.” He gestured towards the Professor, and though Mary-Lou and Tony exchanged raised eyebrows, they went over dutifully.
“Different sound quality over here,” Professor Matthews said briefly, one hand pressed against the rocky surface. He was younger than Mary-Lou had expected when she first signed on to the dig, no more than forties, with a carefully cultivated dark beard, and eyes which seemed to miss nothing. The whole thing had been unexpected really – all her experience had been on digs in England, where every shred of earth was carefully turned over and scrutinised. Here, the Prof thought nothing of getting a group of local men to go hammer and tongs, pulling down feet of earth and stone at a time. Two of them were working now, just beyond the Prof, digging busily – until one of them disappeared!
“There’s a passageway!” exclaimed the Prof, after a stream of excited Greek from the remaining digger, who pushed through to rescue his comrade. The Prof followed closely, the others not far behind.
“I say, he’s right!” said Mary-Lou, turning to Tony, eyes shining. “I say, Tony!”
“Passageway to what, though?” asked Tony, a little edgily. “What on earth’s down here?”
They trouped along the passageway, everyone eager to find out the answer to that question. It was unquestionable manmade, but nothing like any of them had seen before.
“How did they ever manage this?” asked Mary-Lou, her voice awed. “I can’t imagine… it’s… it’s amazing.”
Then the passage opened into a giant hall, dug out of earth and stone, and no-one had any words at all. The archaeologists, scattered, spell-bound, at the grandeur of the place they had found. Suddenly, Harrolds pointed up.
“Look!” The ceiling was split into 12 sections, each with a painting.
“It’s the zodiac,” said Tony, then pointed to the painting in the middle. “But… what’s that? I don’t recognise it.”
Professor Matthews moved forward as if in a dream, until he was standing almost directly beneath the painting, his neck craning upwards.
“Kobol,” he murmured. “Oh my God, it’s true.”
…
High above the earth, a man in a rocket suddenly pressed himself against the lone small window, and gaped in disbelief at what had suddenly appeared.