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Aberrant: Stargate Universe - Harvey [Complete]

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After the events in Night Terrors, but still well before the formation of SG-21

"Marv, you got a moment?" Olivia asked, stopping just inside her boss' door.

The director of R'n'D at Area 51 looked up from his laptop, blinking at the petite woman. She was dressed in her usual long, flowing skirt, full-sleeved blouse and sweater. The woman dressed like a librarian twice her age, not that Marv minded. He had enough distraction from some of the other ladies in the office.

"Sure, Doc, what's up?" he asked, pointing to a chair.

Olivia took the stack of books off the chair and sat down, putting the books on top of yet another stack on another chair. "Marv, I have a problem."

"Ok," he said, his tone clearly telling her to elaborate. He prayed it wasn't some 'woman's problem' and that if it was, she'd be blissfully vague.

"Yeah," she said, her expression irritated, as if the problem should be obvious. "That." She jerked her thumb over her shoulder toward the door.

Marv looked past her but didn't see anything other than his door. Frowning, he looked back to her. "What?"

"That." She pointed at a spot next to the door. Her head snapped around and she stared at the door, then said, "Why didn't you tell me that before?"

"I'm sorry?" Marv asked, startled.

"It didn't occur to you?" Olivia snarled. "When I asked the security guys if you could pass, you didn't think to tell me then that they couldn't see you?"

"Olivia, are you ok?" Marv asked softly, reaching for his phone.

"I'm fine, except for the fact that I have an invisible hippy following me around," Olivia sighed, pressing a hand to her head. "Who are you calling?"

"Security," Marv said calmly. "Either we have an intruder, or you've lost your mind."

"Nice," Olivia growled, but she couldn't argue with the assessment.

Twenty minutes later, she was in a small, concrete room with a table and two chairs, being questioned by security. A Captain Dwight was vigorously pressing questions to her in an almost-bored monotone. "Now, when did you notice your... 'invisible hippy'?"

"I saw him here yesterday, but wasn't concerned until he showed up at my house," she said. She was already weary, knowing that this was just the beginning of what was sure to be a long, grueling inquiry.

"Maybe you should start at the beginning, Doctor."

Olivia drew a deep breath and did exactly that.

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"Today, I'd like you to do a report on this," Marv said, dumping a box on her desk.

Olivia looked up in irritation, adjusting her glasses. Part of the irritation came from the fact that he'd just buried fourteen reports under that box - fourteen hundred-plus page reports which had to be compiled into one fifty-page report that was readable at the general's level - read: fourth grade level - and made sense. And it was due Monday. Olivia was already looking at working through the weekend. Now, Marv was giving her what looked suspiciously like more work. "Marv, I'm working on the Black Hills Artifacts report," she said. "Two days ago, it was priority."

"Now this is," Marv said, patting the box.

"So do I get more time on the Black Hills stuff?" she asked pensively.

Marv just smiled. "It'll be two hours for you, tops. Do your best, ok?" He turned and walked away, but not before he heard her grumble, "Great. I was already doing my best - is there a level beyond best?"

There was nothing more to do other than pull the box over and peer in. Packing peanuts greeted her, and Olivia sighed as she realized that she was about to have a mess on her hands. Standing, she took the box into the break room and dumped some of the peanuts into the trash can. As she did, she realized a co-worker was there. She nodded at her, straining to remember her name - Debra? Darla? Shaking out peanuts revealed the object, and Olivia lost interest in the puzzle of her co-worker's identity and pulled it out.

It was a carved wooden figure, about a foot long and three inches on each side of the rounded square. The dark-toned fetish - that's what it clearly was - was carved with figures engaged in the act of war. Olivia grimaced as she studied the figures. They are all grotesque, their small forms busily killing one another in the grossest ways.

Sudden warmth flashed up her arms, crawling over her body, and Olivia nearly dropped the ugly thing. Only her determination to not destroy the object kept her from dropping it on the break room floor. "That's probably a bad sign," she mumbled, then turned to the woman at the table. "Hey, did I just disappear or lose time or anything?"

That might have gotten her odd looks in most other break rooms in America, but this was Area 51. The woman just shrugged, sipped her coffee and said, "Nope. But you did spill peanuts off the back of the can. Just F.Y.I."

Olivia looked, and sure enough, she had. Grumbling, she got the broom and cleaned up, then went back to her desk. Folding the Black Hills materials into an awkward pile of papers, she cleared them to the side and put the fetish on the desk. Sighing, the young librarian opened a new report file, then started to take measurements.

"Excuse me," a voice said, and Olivia looked up. She frowned at the sight of the man before her. He was wearing a tie-dye shirt and scruffy jeans; his hair sprouted in a mane from around his bandanna, cascading down his shoulders and nearly hiding the peace symbol hanging around his neck. Thankfully, he didn't seem to have the olfactory stereotype going as well. He peered over colored John Lennon glasses as he asked, "Are you a soldier here?"

"No," Olivia said distinctly, her patience near an end. She had way too much work for this. "I'm an anti-soldier."

"Huh. That's a, huh, hell of a thing," he said, turning and shambling off. Olivia thought about calling security, but no one else was reacting to him. Figuring that he was an eccentric scientist or something, she shrugged and got back to work.

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Her apartment was too big, she'd decided. She'd been wooed by the tall ceilings and spacious rooms - and that she could actually afford something this nice - but at times like this, she was very aware of being alone. She sighed and rotated her neck as hot water poured over her body. She'd finished the report on the fetish and given it to Marv, then worked on the Black Hills file until two hours after her shift was done. Then she'd come home, grabbed some cheap, fast food and gotten some sleep. Now, she was getting up early to try to avoid working all weekend.

"So this isn't the way it's supposed to work, you know." The voice was familiar, in that she'd just heard it today. It was unpleasantly unfamiliar, in that it was a stranger's, and she was naked.

She spun, shrieked, hid behind a hand, opened the shower door and grabbed her towel all at once. It was an impressive maneuver. More importantly, it gave her some modesty from the man standing in her bathroom. She pressed the towel to herself, not caring that she was still in the stream of water. "Get out!" she shouted as her towel clung to her wetly.

"I'm sorry, am I upsetting you?" the hippy asked, looking confused.

"YES!" Olivia shouted. "You're in my bathroom!"

"This is a private room?"

"YES!" Olivia shouted, her voice an octave higher. "Very!"

"Oh, is the next room private too?" he asked.

"My apartment is private!" she shrieked. "Get out!"

"But I need to talk to you," he said. "You've started the clock and the invasion will be here soon."

Olivia stared, torn between screaming at the intruder for intruding and the dire implications of his statement. "Fine," she hissed after a moment. "Wait in the living room." He started to ask, and she growled, "The next room."

"Sure!" he chirped. "Be quick, though. We have much to discuss."

"'We have much to discuss'," Olivia grumbled in a mocking falsetto. “You bet we do, like breaking and entering." She dropped the soaked towel in the shower and dripped over to her cabinet, extracting another towel. She dried herself and quickly dressing, mumbling angrily the entire time.

She emerged into the living room, still pissed. Her anger only grew to find him flipping through photo albums. "Hey! Those are mine!"

"They were in your archive shelf, and they were the only ones without writing," he whined as she jerked it out of his hands. "Until I learn your writing system, all I can read are the picture archives."

"Those aren't archives," Olivia seethed. "They're books that hold personal momentos of my family and friends."

"That was your family?" he asked, perking up. His long brown hair rippled as he straightened. "Is it normal for your males to have such a pale skin tone compared to the females?"

That comment made him no friends in Olivia. "That's not important," she gritted through clenched teeth. "You said something about an invasion."

"Oh, yes, I did," he said, rubbing his forehead. "Sorry, you're so absent-minded. It's hard to adapt to."

"Invasion?" Olivia reminded him tensely.

"Oh, yes," he said. "I'm the advance scout, only it didn't turn out like planned."

Olivia wished she had a weapon, but considered that she wouldn't know how to use it. "Ok, I assume you're going to explain."

"Yes," he said, and started talking. By the time he was done, Olivia was running for the door.

"C'mon," she said, waving him after her. "There are people who'll want to talk to you."

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"Let me get this straight," Captain Dwight said, leaning forward. His dark eyes were framed nicely by his dark skin, and Olivia comtemplated that he was a fairly attractive man. She must be tired, she decided, if she was noticing that. "Your invisible hippy-"

"I need a name," the hippy said.

"-claims to be the forward scout for an invading force-"

"You all have names. I want one."

"-but he's on our side?"

"Ok..." Olivia said crossly. "One at a time." As Dwight blinked at her, she glanced at the hippy. "Your name is now Harvey."

"Harvey?" the hippy asked.

"Harvey the Hippy," Olivia said firmly, turning back to Dwight.

"Harvey?" Dwight asked, one black eyebrow rising. "Is he a giant rabbit?"

"No, he's a giant pain in the butt," she said. "Now, as you were saying, yes, he's said that he's the forward intelligence scout for an invasion. His people have scattered this things about the universe as stasis chambers just waiting to be picked up by a suitable imprintee. When I touched the fetish, it activated it and let his fleet know to come here. He is supposed to possess me and gather information about our forces and general war readiness by imprinting on the activator, but I wasn't much help."

"Oh, don't get me wrong," Harvey said placidly. "I like being a pacifst so much more than a war-monger. I feel less... tense. It's nice. Pleasant, even."

Olivia cast an exasperated glance at her invisible hippy, continuing. "He's imprinted on me, and now wants to stop the invasion."

"Why?" Dwight asked, eyeing her with a gaze that clearly said, What's so special about you?

"They imprint personality and outlook as well as information," Olivia explained, again. "I'm a pacifist with strong anti-world domination views. Harvey picked those up."

"What proof do you have?" Captain Dwight asked.

Olivia shrugged. "None, because only I can see or hear Harvey. He's undetectable so far, and intangible. But I suspect that we'll have proof soon enough, when we see the invasion force coming."

"I need to make a call." Dwight stood up.

"I'm sure you do," Olivia sighed. "Could I get a magazine while I wait?"

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A portly man wearing stars on his shoulders entered the room. "Doctor Jenings-Izumi?" he asked; when she nodded, he offered his hand and said, "General Hammond."

"Nice to meet you," she said, shaking his hand. She liked this man immediately. There was something paternal about him, and Olivia was relieved. She'd had a couple of hours to consider her fate, and she felt that this man wouldn't throw her under a bus. Well, not without a really good reason; she had no illusions about the value of her life compared to the fate of Earth. She'd even find herself hard pressed to object if her death would save them all.

"Twenty minutes ago, the Asgard confirmed that we have an inbound invasion force," General Hammond said after they'd sat back down again. "It seems that you have your proof, Doctor. Now, what can we do to stop it?"

Olivia sighed. "Harvey says that if he can stop the invasion, if he rejoins with the collective conscious of his people. He can infect them with the concept of pacifism."

"I'm not sure I understand," Hammond said softly.

"His people are beings that live out of phase with us that share a single mind," Olivia explained. "New experiences and ideas are absorbed by the collective and experienced as one. Right now, his people have absorbed enough warrior experiences to make them as aggressively imperilistic as the Romans were." Hammond understood her, Olivia was pleased to see. "But my pacifism will be such a profound change that Harvey believes that they'll need to abandon the attack on us, or even abandon warfare altogether."

"So how does he rejoin them?" Hammond asked.

"That's the easy part." Olivia still frowned, because the hard part was personally difficult for her. "His people will want to reintegrate him into their conscious before they attack, to get the information he's collected. So if you make him easily available, say outside on a hill, then it's done."

"Doesn't sound so hard," Hammond remarked, his tone the sound of a man waiting for the other shoe.

"The problem is that because he's supposed to be controlling his imprinter, he's supposed to ride them up into the ship. See, the way he explains it is that they have a teleporter device, somewhat like the rings. Apparently, their transporter exists out of phase with them, too, so they have bio-organic exo-skins that they can hitch rides on. It's like using a car on the interstate, only imagine that you can't even walk on the side of the road; you have to have the car. The exo-skins give them 'form' in this world. They can also use hosts, like me." She shrugged at Hammond's expression.

"And because he's imprinted to you, he needs you to get up on the ship." Hammond looked agitated.

"And once there, they'll absorb all of my experiences into their collective," Olivia said, and she didn't bother to hide her fear at that. The loss of identity that she'd experience was enough to turn her skin ice-cold.

"What are our options?" Hammond asked, and Olivia looked at Harvey.

"Well," Harvey said. "There's one method, a bait and switch. We set things up, but if I'm not riding you, they'll know something is up. So if we get to the pickup, and I don't actually ride you, they'll send some soldiers to see what's going on. I can hitch a ride back up on one of their suits," Harvey said. "The trick will be convincing them not to just grab you anyway."

Olivia repeated what Harvey had said. Hammond nodded. "Let me confer with some people. Doctor, I'll be back to talk with you more."

"General, how long do we have? Before they're here?" Olivia asked.

Hammond's eyes dropped before he heaved a sigh and admitted, "The Tok'ra say three hours. None of our allies are closer than six hours."

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Two hours, fifty-five minutes later, they had her on top of a mountain. The night pressed in around them; Harvey had advised no lights for versilimtude. Hammond handed her a small machine that velcoed around her forearm. "This is a tracking device. If this fails and you are taken, the Tok'ra can track you, and we might be able to attempt a rescue," he told her. "If that happens, do what you can to be safe, and hang tight, alright?"

Olivia nodded, her mouth almost completely dry. "Sure," she said, stifling a hysterical giggle. "No problem, General."

"You'll be fine," he said with a smile, putting a gentle hand on her shoulder. She didn't believe him for a second.

He waved to someone; Olivia turned to see a tall man trot forward. She took a half-step away from the guy on reflex, pulling her jacket tighter. "Major Hadley, this is Dr. Olivia Jenings-Izumi," he said. "Dr. Jenings-Izumi, this is Major Hadley of SG-4. His team is assigned the task of keeping you on the ground, where you belong."

Harvey shifted nervously as the man extended a hand to Olivia. She took it as her heart pounded nervously. "Pleasure," he said softly. He took in her pale face and sweaty hands. "Don't worry, Doc. You're in good hands. We won't let them take you."

"Thank you Major," she said nervously, her mouth running off. "I would really appreciate that. Hate to default on my lease. Be hard to get a reference for my next place."

Hadley laughed at the non-funny joke, trying to help her. "Sure thing, Doc. My team is going to hang back, but if you run into trouble, we'll be there," he said. He handed her a plastic glow stick. "Snap that and drop it if you have trouble, then drop to the ground. Got all that?"

"Snap, drop, drop," she said, glad she hadn't eaten. She'd hate to vomit in front of the General and this nice guy.

"You'll do fine," he said, then turned to the General. "Permission to take up our positions?"

"Go ahead, Major," Hammond ordered. Hadley stepped back and became part of the night, merging with three other shadows before disappearing with them. "Are you ready, Doctor?"

"I'll never be ready," she said honestly before her biting her lip so she wouldn't beg him to not make her do this. But she was doing it freely, because no one else could. "But let's go."

He squeezed her shoulder one more time, then he was gone, too, leaving her with Harvey. The night seemed colder suddenly. "How long?" she asked.

"Soon," he said, his eyes rising to the glowing stars overhead.

"Oh, that isn't creepy..." she muttered.


"Scary, unnerving, pants-wetting," Olivia added, hugging herself tighter.

"Are you afraid of me?" Harvey asked - and the sky was suddenly blazing with light. A roar filled the night air, the unmistakable sound of a space ship over them.

"Oh," Olivia said, her voice a squeak of terror as she gazed up at the triple dots of light over them, "I'm getting there."

"You should be," he said. For a moment, Olivia thought he'd said 'shouldn't'. Then her mind filtered through the roar and rendered the word properly, and her iron grip on the glow rod calcified.


"I know I said I'd let you go, and I meant it," Harvey shouted. "But, Olivia, your experiences would change my people. It wasn't the pacifism that drew me to your side; it was your pain. You have been nearly destroyed by the cruelty of others, cruelty that my people propagate on others all the time. They need to feel that pain, Olivia! They need you to show them compassion for others! Come with me!"

"No!" Olivia shouted, stepping back from him. Around them in a circle, silvery frames appeared, roughly humanoid in shape, manifesting from streaks of red light. Nestled in the chest area of each frame, a vague cloud-like form could be seen, at least to Olivia. One of the suits reached for her, and she flexed her wrists violently. A green glow appeared between her fingers and she dropped the stick, giving it a little toss so she wouldn't fall on it. She heard shouting as she fell to her knees, only to have a metal hand grab her. "No!" she shrieked again, pulling against the unyielding grip.

Something large slammed into the form holding her with an all-too-human grunt, ripping her loose and knocking it away. She was thrown to her belly, her hands scraping against the dirt and grass under her. Someone knelt next to her, and a hand rested on her back. "Stay down!" the woman shouted before removing her hand. Olivia's eager nod was lost in the scream of the P90 being fired in long bursts. Casings rained down on her like scalding kisses, and Olivia huddled under her hands, sobbing and shaking.

Silence followed one last burst of fire; the librarian remained down, aware of her guardian kneeling next to her, alert and vigilant. "They're gone," Hadley called. "Report."

"Medic!" a man shouted in the darkness.

"I'm fuckin' fine," a surly voice grumbled, "just a bad tackle." Olivia looked, but all she saw were the bottoms of someone's combat boots, while a thin man bent over him.

"Dumb ass," the woman laughed, her voice sultry and sexy, "you tackled a robot. You'll be lucky if you didn't break your damned shoulder."

"Can it, folks. Doctor, you ok?" A light went on, and Olivia saw her defenders for the first time. The gorgeous woman was smiling warmly at her, one hand helping her up. The man wasn't as attractive and his face was hard, but Olivia had never seen a more beautiful man. Dirty-faced, tear-stained, Olivia crawled to her knees and hugged the big man with one arm and the woman with the other.

"I'm fine," she sobbed, hugging them for a moment. "I'm just fine." Then Hammond ran up demanding a report, and they snaked away from her, and the medics took away the injured member of the team.

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Long-range sensors showed the ships backing away from Earth. Everyone congratulated Olivia on her pacifistic nature winning the day; there were a lot of jokes about the hippies getting the last word. But Olivia knew the truth: it had never been about peace, but about pain. She didn't say anything to anyone. Let them believe what they would.

Marv found her as the medics were taping up her hands. "Good work," he said.

"I'm surprised to see you here," she admitted.

"I have a message for you," he said, frowning. "You're not allowed to touch anymore artifacts, on orders of my boss and the recommendation of several people."

"Yay!" Olivia giggled, thrusting both fists in the air. "That's the best news I've heard all my life!"

Marv had to laugh at her fervent joy, despite the loss of her expertise and ability on the cataloging of artifacts.

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"You got a get-well card," Dana announced, dropping it on Vinny's chest.

"What?" he grumbled, peering at it suspiciously.

"That librarian. Got you a get-well card," Dana laughed. "She's as sweet as apple pie."

Vinny gave it a cursory glance, then tossed it on the table without opening it. He'd look at it later, when Dana wasn't around to tease him and the pain meds were working better. He hadn't broken the shoulder, but it was messed up. It'd be a couple of weeks healing.

"And a thank you card, though this was for all of us," Dana added, handing him another. When he started to drop it on the other, she scooped it up and handed it to him. "C'mon, look at it. Mat hasn't seen it yet, and I wanna take it to him next."

Grumbling, he flipped it open, ignoring the pre-fab poetry crap, his eyes falling on the handwritten note.

Thank you for my life.


"Fuckin' sentimental civvies," Vinny grumbled, hiding a small smile as he gave the card back to Dana.

"You like it," Dana grinned. She patted his arm. "Get better, Vinny. Librarians around the world need you."

Once Dana was gone, Vinny picked up the get-well card and, again ignoring the Hallmark bullshit, read what the woman had written just for him.

I've never known anyone to get hurt in my defense. It's an unsettling and singular sensation. I've read about how people felt when someone stood between themselves and danger. I thought it was sentimental and overstated. But now, I know that it's not. It's a very personal and very precious thing.

Those aliens would have subsumed me into a gestalt of minds, a collective conscious where all were one and one was all. I can think of no worse hell, than to lose one's personality and individuality against their will. I said in the first card that your team saved my life, but upon reflection, your team saved my soul. Please let them know that.

Thank you is inadequate, but it's all our language allows. So thank you, Lt. Vincent Wright. You and yours were my guardian angel for a night.


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She hadn't seen Harvey leave, and Olivia was troubled by the nagging feeling that he hadn't left. No one had been able to see the wispy forms in the machines, and she knew that there was a decent chance that Harvey had remained behind. It took several days, but she slowly convinced herself he was gone.

Marv made sure that she had more than enough work to keep her busy, even with her access to artifacts being restricted. That was fine with Olivia. She'd lost her taste for the artifacts; papers and reports were far safer and ultimately, just as satisfying.

Or so she told herself. It was safe enough to keep her happy.

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"Well, do you feel better about her now?" Colonel Mietzen asked.

General Hammond shook her head. "She's not a combatant. She nearly fell apart tonight."

"General, with all due respect," Major Hadley offered, "she kept her head, did what I told her to do, and stayed out of my team's way when they moved."

"Her after-combat reaction doesn't help me feel better about this," Hammond said, glancing pointedly at Hadley.

"She is a civilian," Hadley said as he fought back a slight blush at the memory of that reaction. "Unless you want to press-gang her, sir, I don't see how you can expect her to have a better reaction than she did."

"Thank you for your assessment, Major," Hammond said, nodding to Hadley. Clearly curious but knowing it wasn't his place, the Major left the two men. Hammond's voice stopped him after a moment. "And Major? Let's keep this conversation between the three of us, alright?"

"Yes, sir," Hadley said, nodding. After he was gone, Hammond said, "Are you sure it's her?"

"Her genotype is pretty unique, and even with sample degradation and naquadah contamination, we're sure it's her," Mietzen said, frowning. "The most damning bit of evidence is the mitochondrial DNA; it's definitely someone in her direct female line."

"Doesn't she have a niece in California?" Hammond asked. He didn't need to ask. He'd read her file more than once since the results had been confirmed. "Couldn't that be the source of the sample?"

"She and her brother have different mothers," Mietzen said. "Could be a daughter, but the genetic variables are pretty much a match. I don't like it myself, sir, but the scientists have assured me that it's probably her. Considering that, shouldn't we offer her some training, a warning? Something to get her prepared?"

Hammond shook his head. "We can't risk that, and I speak from experience on this. We have to let it be, and hope she pulls this off."

"That's a long hope, sir," Mietzen said softly. "She's no SG-1."

"No," Hammond said heavily. "She's not."

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