FIC: "I Could Never Lie To Mama ... So I Didn't", OC, Radek Zelenka, PG

[helenkacan]

Here's my second entry in the stargate_las competition. No, I didn't win. But, OTOH, I didn't have any votes against me and one for (winner had three) ... so I move ahead to the next challenge. Yay me.

Story Title: I Could Never Lie To Mama ... So I Didn't
Character/Relationships: OFC, Radek Zelenka plus mention of canon SGA characters; also OFC, OMC on Earth / Gen
Rating: PG
Warnings: Non-explicit mention of accident and physical injury

Svetlana Byelarova opened the door, startled to see her brother. "Volodya Petrovitch." She whispered ... suddenly fearful. "Galina?"

"Da. Po Angliski." He thrust the paper at her.

She sighed in relief. Receiving an e-mail in English from her only child wasn't a tragedy. Merely unexpected.

dear uncle volodya ... or did you think i, working with so many americans, would call you uncle wally, the way mama fears. you know how mama is. if i don't use proper names, then i'm disrespecting my heritage.

i'm sorry this e-mail looks so unusual, but it's the reason i'm writing to you instead of mama. when my cyrillic keyboard broke, dr. zelenka, one of my colleagues here, lent me his computer so i wouldn't miss the scheduled data transmission. but i'm not used to this model or its shift key.

mama should be pleased i get any time for language practice. dr. zelenka's russian is very good; he'd prefer we spoke in english, but will indulge me occasionally.

i can't believe i've been here for three years already. it's hard but exciting work. i wouldn't have the chance for anything this advanced anywhere else. it's still all classified but i hope you and mama will see my name one day on many published papers. i know you would be proud to see our family name in print.

we made some new discoveries recently in one of the labs....

~::~::~

Galina rested her left hand gently on the touchscreen of Radek's tablet while her bandaged right hand rubbed idly at limp bangs. She wondered whether one of the nurses might wash her hair. Hell, she'd even ask one of the marines, anything to feel less grubby.

At least her torn clothing had been removed, cuts and scrapes cleaned. Except for severe burns on one hand, she was ... well, she would be okay. Though her hair wasn't just dirty, but also singed. The long, black braid her mother had loved was but a memory. Maybe it was time for a new hairstyle, too.

Galina didn't regret what she'd done. But she now understood Dr. McKay's constant yelling about morons. She couldn't believe how these recent arrivals had caused the accident that could have blown up their lab and killed them all. Who in their right mind would open Ancient-shielded stasis boxes - stasis boxes! - without asking first ... not even thinking, eagerly dumping the contents onto metal slabs where – to everyone's horror – various limbs, most likely failed Wraith experiments, had begun to slither closer to each other, fibrous tendrils extending and thrashing, a grotesque reenactment of Medusa's hair.

If that hadn't been gruesome enough (with creepy music the only thing missing), Galina could see an electrical charge forming between the largest limbs from two originally separate boxes.

Her assistants stood transfixed. Completely useless. She realized it was up to her to fix the problem. She'd never sworn in her life until arriving in Atlantis but yelled at them to get the hell out of the lab, an order they were smart enough to obey.

She looked around frantically for any non-conductive tools. Of course not. That would be far too simple a solution. Only her brain and hands were at her disposal.

Not even thinking of the risk, because the alternative was not an option in her mind, Galina tore off her shirt to wrap around her left hand, then grabbed the two limbs, ripping the entangled tendrils apart with difficulty, struggling to drag the more electrically-charged limb whose tendrils were lashing at her, sparks igniting as they connected, into the disposal unit. Only then, after wondering idly if she was doomed to return to Earth as a damaged failure, did she pass out.

She'd woken hours later in the Infirmary, her hand blissfully numb, to the news that the cuts, burns and blisters – though severe – would heal fully. Galina knew she was lucky.

But bored. Lying in bed irritated her more than having dirty hair. So Radek's visit at her bedside earlier with two gifts was a welcome relief. Now she had a touchscreen laptop, able to type with her dominant left hand; and, even more amazing, a chocolate bar from Dr. McKay's hidden stash.

As she considered what else to include in her e-mail home, her thoughts wandered. She knew she'd been both incredibly brave and undeniably stupid. But she'd survived.

She recalled how many people had died in Pegasus, yet lived again. Radek. Rodney. Ronon. Then Rodney again (or was that the third time), rescued at death's door (her lips quirked ... cave entrance) from Second Childhood.

Or what about the Colonel? How many times did he personally defy certain death? If they could be fearless in the face of disaster, then how could she not try her best when danger struck.

Glancing at her bandaged hand, Galina knew she would do it all over again, no matter what the cost. Otherwise, she'd be ashamed, feeling unworthy to live and work in Atlantis.

Dr. McKay had high expectations of the quality of her work (and the gift of chocolate was definite proof, even if he still called her "Balalaika"). She had no intention of letting him or anyone else down.

~::~::~

Svetlana continued reading the e-mail to its end. She then picked up the photograph her brother had printed and looked wistfully at the image of her daughter, hair chopped short – so like a young boy's – but beaming with confidence. The older man, with woolly hair, resting his hand gently on her shoulder, was probably Dr. Zelenka.

She was happy for her daughter. If Galina had such good colleagues and friends where she worked, and could even afford the time to have her hair done, then it must be a wonderful place to live.

Svetlana sighed, grateful that her daughter was safe and well. Though she really hoped the next e-mail would be in properly respectful Russian.