{"id":678,"date":"2024-03-26T09:52:26","date_gmt":"2024-03-26T09:52:26","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/scottkandrews.com\/?p=678"},"modified":"2024-04-15T10:04:42","modified_gmt":"2024-04-15T10:04:42","slug":"stargate-atlantis-fatherland","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/scottkandrews.com\/index.php\/2024\/03\/stargate-atlantis-fatherland\/","title":{"rendered":"Stargate Atlantis: Fatherland"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

Some years back, I wrote a Stargate audio play, Impressions<\/a>, for Big Finish. It was recently re-released<\/a> and it reminded me of a piece of work languishing in the depths of my hard drive that had never seen the light of day – two text samples from a Stargate Atlantis<\/em> pitch I did for those lovely folk at Fandemonium<\/a> many, many years ago.<\/p>\n\n\n

\n
\"\"
Available now<\/em><\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n

When pitching for a tie-in book a writer will normally have to produce a text sample to demonstrate that they have a handle on the established characters, their voices and relationships with each other, so here are the two samplers I did for SG:A.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The pitch was accepted by MGM, with their rep calling it one of the most implausible pitches he’d ever approved (which made me very happy!) but in the end I didn\u2019t have time to pursue it due to other commitments. All of which renders this now, essentially, fan fiction and not intended for profit (any more).<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Sample One<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI\u2019ve been shot at, kidnapped, blown up, broken down into a proton stream and projected half way across the universe, and I\u2019m fine. Mostly. I mean, apart from the psychological damage. Which is huge, obviously. So how come this feels like the most dangerous thing I\u2019ve ever done?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIt\u2019s just a submarine, Rodney.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cNo. No, no, no Sheppard. It\u2019s a bathyscaphe. Submarines are roomy compared to this. We\u2019re going to be stuck in this tin can for eight hours before we even touch bottom. You did shower this morning, right?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cMcKay\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhat? I\u2019m just asking.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cRelax. It\u2019s gonna be fine. And Ronon and I showered before we reported for duty.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cNot together,\u201d deadpanned Ronon.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI brought some music to help pass the time,\u201d offered Sheppard. \u201cThought it might help.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cOh God, not Johnny Cash. Please not Johnny Cash.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhat is wrong with Johnny Cash?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cNothing. No, that\u2019s fine. Great. We\u2019ll be slitting our wrists before we\u2019re even halfway down. Is it too late to ask for a sedative of some kind?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Elizabeth\u2019s voice crackled out of the speaker, making Rodney jump in surprise.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAre you all right in there? Colonel Caldwell says we\u2019re in position and we\u2019re ready to drop you.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYeah, we\u2019re fine Elizabeth,\u201d said Sheppard. He saw McKay begin to open his mouth and he silenced him with a glance. \u201cTell the Colonel he can drop us any time. The sooner we get started the sooner we can get out of this thing.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

There was a brief pause and then: \u201cAll right, hold on.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Ronon, Sheppard and McKay grasped their restraints tightly, bracing themselves.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI can\u2019t believe you talked me into this,\u201d said McKay.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Sheppard\u2019s acid reply was lost, as the bathyscaphe suddenly plummeted twenty metres into the cold green water beneath the hovering battleship. On hitting the surface the vessel rolled violently to the right, and for one moment Sheppard was looking straight down at Ronon and McKay. McKay looked like he was about to be sick. Ronon was smiling broadly.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Then the bathyscaphe righted itself, wobbled slightly as it found its equilibrium, and then began to sink. The conical Lucite porthole turned from bright blue sky to light green and then inky darkness. Except for the hum and whirr of the vessel\u2019s internal workings, it was eerily silent.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Two minutes passed without anyone saying a word, until finally Sheppard said: \u201cWell, I vote for Live at Folsom Prison.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Sample Two<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Elizabeth Weir was tired, hungry and annoyed, but you\u2019d never have known it to look at her. It took all her concentration to maintain the fa\u00e7ade of cool, detached professionalism that she radiated at the negotiating table. Long years of painful experience had taught her that a moment\u2019s visible irritation on her part could spark both parties into a spiral of mutual recrimination.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou see,\u201d one party would say, noticing a stifled yawn or clenched jaw, \u201ceven she thinks you\u2019re lying.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

And that would be that for the day, bar the shouting and door slamming.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

So she remained rigid on her seat, despite the ache at the small of her back; she maintained eye contact with whoever was speaking, no matter how stupid or duplicitous their words; she smiled whenever a delegate made a lame attempt at humour; and she never, ever allowed the growing knot of fury and contempt in her stomach to show itself on her face. She was supposed to be the calm voice of impartial reason.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Some days that was harder than others.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI don\u2019t care,\u201d said an old Wraith man whose name momentarily escaped her. \u201cI just don\u2019t see why we can\u2019t arm ourselves.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cSo you can massacre us in our beds?\u201d Janeel made a contemptuous snorting noise and folded his arms.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cSo we can defend ourselves from your mobs!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cMobs? Don\u2019t make me laugh.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhat should I call them then? Vigilantes? Death squads?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cRegrettable as these incidents have been, no one has been killed,\u201d said Elizabeth.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Both Janeel and the old Wraith (Tanas, that was his name, Tanas) said, almost simultaneously: \u201cYet.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThen what we have to focus on is preventing any future deaths. Does anybody here really think that distributing weaponry is the best way to achieve that?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

It was meant to be a rhetorical question.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYes I do,\u201d insisted Janeel, with an emphatic thump on the council table.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Elizabeth calmed her breathing, resisting the temptation to sigh. In her experience, when people started answering rhetorical questions it was time for a cooling off period.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI think perhaps a recess is called for. Half a cycle?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Her suggestion was met by a succession of weary, grateful nods.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

As the councillors filed out of the hall Elizabeth noted that the Lantean delegates left by one door, the Wraith by another. Already they had split into separate camps, avoiding each other between sessions. This was not a good sign. Breakthroughs rarely came at the negotiating table. Far more likely that a quiet chat over a cup of tea \u2013 or whatever disgusting nutrient soup they drank here \u2013 would result in a calm moment of common sense and mutual understanding. So Elizabeth allowed herself a weary sigh, and rose from her seat.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cCouncilman, please, walk with me,\u201d she said as she looped her arm through Janeel\u2019s and steered him in the direction of the Wraith councillors.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Now for the difficult bit.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

A text sample from a tie-in book that was approved but never written.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":1975,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[8,7,9],"tags":[63,61,55],"class_list":["post-678","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-fiction","category-stargate","category-writing","tag-audio-drama","tag-stargate","tag-writing"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/scottkandrews.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/678","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/scottkandrews.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/scottkandrews.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/scottkandrews.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/scottkandrews.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=678"}],"version-history":[{"count":7,"href":"https:\/\/scottkandrews.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/678\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":2151,"href":"https:\/\/scottkandrews.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/678\/revisions\/2151"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/scottkandrews.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/1975"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/scottkandrews.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=678"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/scottkandrews.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=678"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/scottkandrews.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=678"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}