Episode Four- Veritas- Chapter Six

Chapter Six

The sky is a brilliant light blue, a perfect colored sky.  A few long, puffy, cotton ball clouds float about here and there, not rendering the beautiful sky ‘cloudy’ and certainly not ‘overcast.’  The ocean isn’t as light a blue, it’s more like a sapphire.  A deep rich jewel tone that conveys an element of Old World royalty.  In the middle of this engrossing, idyllic landscape is the city of Atlantis.  Floating on the surface, in the shape of a snowflake with six oddly-shaped piers sticking out as the flake’s branches and a core center of dozens of towers of varying heights and widths with a Central Tower rising from the middle of them all to reign supreme over the whole flake.  It is typical of the city during a beautiful midday to stand like the notorious icon it is.

 

 

Sunlight pours in through the open doorway, illuminating the whole room in golden hued light over the pale rust-colored walls trimmed with textured copper moldings designed to have the panels of walls look like representations of a Zero Point Module’s silhouette.  The Lantean computer lab’s walls, except for the wall with the door, are lined by Ancient piano-style computer consoles, it’s corners are lined by six feet tall light sconces that look to be a combination of the chiclet sconces and the normally three-feet tall, wall mounted ‘dogbone’ sort of designed sconces.  They’re not exactly unusual lights in the city and are most often found in the lower levels and occasionally in the city’s laboratories.  Doctor Jennifer Keller sits at an Earth laptop hooked into the Ancient piano-style computer terminal underneath it.  On the laptop’s screen is a log of the Ancient database handily translated mostly into English by Radek and many of the other scientists of the Expedition, but much more of it is untranslated Ancient.  Even after basically six years, the Expedition still hasn’t even begun to scratch the surface of discovering the mysteries of the Ancient database.  All this time and they’re still only scratching the surface.  This is going to take forever, but Jennifer carefully analyzes each and every line, decipherable or not.  Reading what she can understand and trying to translate from her own limited well of knowledge of the Ancient she herself works with on a daily basis and what Rodney’s added to that over the course of their months long so far intimate relationship and a little over a year long working relationship and friendship.  Ronon sits in one the Earth brought, white sturdy mesh and chrome metal teamed with silver plastic chairs, very IKEA, beside her.  Bored out of his mind and edgy.  He shifts uncomfortably and grunts at the slight pain caused to him by the movement, cast or no cast his wrist is aching and itching.  The shifting and grunting draws Jennifer’s attention.  Not like his only swinging his chair lazily from side to side with his back turned to let alone the Ancient computer terminal but the laptop sitting on it as well wasn’t already catching her eyes…and mind.

“What is it,” she asks him.  She’d set everything properly, put in the screws, everything should be fine.  Nothing more problematic than the usual recovery issues like minor aching or throbbing, localized and general, and itching, patients regularly report itching from the injured tissues knitting themselves back together.  No complications should be arising, the stress of the crisis shouldn’t be causing any difficulties.

Ronon doesn’t say anything, just checks his injured arm for himself.  Holding his cast up in front of his eyes, touching it, rendering the sling useless.

Jennifer suddenly sits up at this, “Don’t do that.  You just have to let it rest so it can heal properly.  Refit it back in the sling.”

Ronon still doesn’t say anything, doesn’t even look up at her, and isn’t doing what she’s telling him to do.  He just keeps twisting his hand, and subsequently the muscles of his whole forearm, left and right.  Picking at bits of his cast.  Apparently forgetting the point for having a sling.  Jennifer watches for a moment, biting her lower lip.  Making her mousy features even more guileless and timid looking.  Then she finally sighs, the apples of her cheeks reddening ever so slightly with the burgeoning frustration she’s trying very hard to hold back…

“How long are you going to keep this going,” she finally asks him.

That catches his attention.  Finally he looks up at her.

“What?”

“Not doing what I tell you.  It’s not going to heal right if you keep messing with it.  Do you want it to get worse?  Do you want to be stuck in the Infirmary?  Do you want it to heal wrong?  Do you want to be able to fire your gun at Wraith again?”

“No…and yes, to that last one.”

“Then do what I say and stop treating me like this,” she orders sharply.

“Treating you like what?”

Jennifer’s whole cheeks suddenly flush bright red as though she’s suddenly gotten a sunburn, “You can’t even look at me since I chose Rodney over you.”

Ronon looks away.  His brows lowering and his gaze darkening even further than it already does.  He goes back to turning his back on the computers and the database.

But that only pisses Jennifer off further, See, see, that’s what I’m talking about!

“And it’s gotten worse since Amelia left,” she points out.

Ronon’s head suddenly snaps to her.  Glaring at her.

“You should really stop talking about that now,” he warns her.

Against her better judgment, and how much she really, really wants to yell at him for all this, this crap, Jennifer goes back to the database.

“You’re right.  Fine.  You keep doing what you’re doing,” she bites bitterly.  An unusual tone and emotion for her towards anybody.

…And Ronon doesn’t like it.

“I will,” he snaps back.

Suddenly Jennifer slams the laptop shut and yanks its plug out of the Ancient computer.  Rodney would have screamed at her for doing that.  In one swoop she gathers up the computer and its wire in her arms.  Pressing the components against her chest.  Then standing up so sharply her chair bounces off the back of her legs and rolls about four feet away.  Its sheer luck the thing didn’t flip back onto the floor.

Ronon gapes.  Jenn-Jennifer’s never done anything like that.  She’s nice.  The quiet one.  The mousy one.  The, the, the not angry one.  The not lashing out one.  The, the, the—

“What are you doing?!”  He exclaims.

“Getting my boyfriend back,” she snaps at him, her face taking on the pissed off threatening look of the bullied girls of high school whose finally had enough of the bratty, God damn Mean Girls picking on them.  And Jennifer knows the look well, she gave it to Sarah Brittany Matthews when the rich blonde snob had one of her little goon girls hit Jennifer’s Chem. Lab books out of her arms, “Just do whatever it is your doing back in the Infirmary, will you!  Because, you know, it’s proving to be such a big help and all!  Getting yourself injured and being lazy about it!”

She storms out, her sneakers stomping loud and clear on her way out.  If there had been a swinging door, she would have kicked the thing closed behind her with the unmitigated resounding slam that could shake the walls.  Ronon just stares.

*                      *                      *

Now the midday light is shining starkly into the hallways of Atlantis that either themselves have windows or are adjoined to rooms, via opened doors, that have windows.  Richard and Teyla leave one of the cordoned off hallways of the city’s core that leads to the hologram room, their expressions show that Doctor Zelenka’s investigation is not going well.  Nowhere near well…and it’s putting them in a tough predicament.  It’s hard enough to track down friends and family when they’re taken while being offworld, but to be stolen in the very heart of Atlantis.  It reeks too much of when the Asgard had penetrated the city as if her shielding were none existent and kidnapped Rodney and Daniel Jackson, two men.  And that was by only three soldiers from a once believed to be friendly race!  Now it’s four friends and family taken by God knows who.  Even then they did manage to take down one of the Asgard soldiers, open up their armor and discover that they were Asgard.  But this time…To be at a loss…Like this?…it’s…it’s…

“I’m not exactly sure what to ask Radek next,” Richard admits to Teyla, “How do I expect him to conduct an investigation when there’s nothing there?”

“Radek will continue anyway.  He is much like Rodney that way, he does not like being unable to answer questions.  He will not stop even if he has nothing to work with,” she soothes him.

But it does little for Richard.

“That’s one of the things that I have an issue with.  It’s one thing for our own devices to be unable to register this anomaly, but the Ancient technology isn’t registering it either.  It’s not just as though we have nothing to work with, it’s as though we have less than nothing to work with.”

Teyla nods.  She had been thinking the same thing as well but unwilling to put a voice to it.  It meant that there might be a chance of failure, and while they have always faced that chance before, it seems far more palpable now.

Woolsey goes on, “All that we do know for sure is that the second time it appeared, all who were present saw it, but when it first appeared, only Colonel Sheppard, Lieutenant Kenmore, Major Lorne, and Doctor McKay saw it.  And we also know that all four of them have the Ancient gene to varying degrees.  And, with the exception of Doctor McKay, they have it naturally and are three of the most powerfully adept Ancient Gene possessors we have.”

Teyla agrees, “It should also be noted that, even though Rodney has his Ancient abilities through the gene therapy, he is the strongest of those whose Ancient genes have been activated in such a way.”

Woolsey stops and looks at her.  That had never occurred to him before.

“You’re right.  I had never really thought of describing Rodney’s abilities that way before, but you are right,” Richard considers something like suddenly being given new evidence in a case; normally when new evidence is sprung in the middle of a case, it’s extremely off-putting, throwing everything off and into utter chaos, making the ambushed side completely unsettled and left reeling to try and get their feet back under them, but in this case, “Perhaps we should put more emphasis on Doctor Keller and Ronon’s research than we already are.  Right now it’s proving to be the only useful thing we have.  The only anything we have.”

Teyla nods as Jennifer comes down the hall towards them.  They look up and see her turn abruptly down another hallway.  Muttering to herself rather angrily by the looks of it and clutching an SGC laptop to her chest with a coil or two of it’s Ancient technology jack’s cord and the rest of the cord as well as the jack itself trailing on air buffeting off of her swift wake beside and somewhat behind her and her billowing white lab coat.  Teyla, confused, looks to Richard, whose equally confused but playing it a bit more closely to his vest than she is.  With a controlled face he nods at her, giving her the okay to follow.  Teyla hurries after Jennifer.

 

 

This lab of all the lab’s in Atlantis is the one considered the most like a sanctuary.  Well, a ‘sanctuary’ to one.  Rodney McKay’s personal lab is one of the only room’s in Atlantis that is this extensive and meant for the sole use by one person and others, if he so chooses.  Which he usually didn’t.  Instead opting to rub the room’s mere existence and privacy in the faces of everyone in the Expedition whether they’re a scientist or not.  Its turquoise patina walls trimmed and framed with textured copper moldings are lined abnormally, almost as though to mimic exposed pipes in an industrial loft by the light grey chiclet lights, whose glowing white crystals slats Rodney always kept the majority of off.  He claimed he found their ambience distracting.  If a wall isn’t lined by metal tables holding up computers, then it’s lined by large flat screen monitors on their own personal wheeled carts that came up to the same height, waist high, as the tables.  And in every space that a table or a monitor cart is just too big to fit in are computer cabinets.  Large light up things brought over from Stargate Command complete with push buttons, dials, and switches.  For the members of the Stargate program that had absolutely no clue what the cabinets’ functions are, these units are simply referred to as the ‘Blinky Light Units’.

Jennifer stomps in, her beige and grey sneakers smacking loudly on the floor.  But, knowing full well the ‘sanctum’ she’s in, gently puts down the laptop and it’s cord on a spare piece of unoccupied stainless steel tabletop.  She gingerly opens the computer back up, pulls over a stool and takes a seat as the computer comes back online.  In here, Rodney managed to hook the database to the room in a sort of wireless way.  She didn’t have to plug the jack into any Ancient computer console because there aren’t any in this room, but she still maintains access somehow to the Ancient database.  Once the computer is up and running, she resumes her research.

Teyla Emmagan walks in and immediately catches on to how much Jennifer is not happy, that was not the difficult part, not in the least, but there is something that still eludes her…

“Jennifer, what is wrong,” the Athosian leader asks calmly and quietly.

“I can’t believe it!  I can’t believe he’s doing this!  Still!  Now!”  Atlantis’ Chief Medical Officer explodes.

“Who is doing what, still, now,” Teyla asks.

“Ronon!  He won’t let me help him.  And he certainly isn’t helping me help Rodney and the others.”

Teyla understands now.  And slowly walks over to her friend’s side, trying to come up with the right words to say for this situation on the way over.  As a leader, it had been a long time since Teyla had first learned to never compound an already dire situation by exasperating another unexpected situation that presents itself during.  Only once before had Teyla ever failed to do this since she first learned that lesson…Sergeant Bates.  It was in an argument with Sergeant Bates that Teyla let her own personal anger at him get out, their argument was an old one stemming from when she first encountered the scout team, which included both Sergeant Bates and then Major John Sheppard, and then later Teyla’s joining of John’s team after the death of the Expedition’s original military leader Colonel Sumner, a man Bates was close to and admired greatly…and a man who had treated Teyla like she was an unintelligent, unimportant ghost.  Although both Teyla and Colonel Sumner had come to an understanding with each other in the cell of a Wraith hiveship, Teyla and Sergeant Bates had not…and they never have.  Something which resulted in Sergeant Bates’ initially requesting and later being granted a transfer away from Atlantis and the Pegasus Galaxy by way of an Honorable Discharge from his service in the United States Marine Corps due to his injuries suffered at the hands of the Wraith during internal attack during the city’s first year Siege, a siege some incoming members to the Expedition refer to as the Battle of Atlantis.  It also had not helped that John’s crush on Teyla—yes, she had known about it even back then—had made John make several mistakes in his leadership by being excessively harsh to the Sergeant and questioning Sergeant Bates’ ability to do his own job as part of the Expedition as its Internal Head-of-Security in defensive of her.

When Teyla and Sergeant Bates’ argument exploded, it was during the crisis of the city being under the siege.  The Sergeant had always been suspicious of Teyla and her connection to the Wraith, the explosion of their tense emotions around the whole situation they were all facing in Atlantis had been ignited, for Teyla, by the man’s accusing her of being a Wraith collaborator, a great and vile slander not just among her own people but among almost every denizen of the Pegasus Galaxy.  Teyla’s emotions, her anger, got the better of her in that moment and she had punched him.  It had been wrong.  But it was something Teyla could not control in herself at the time.  Even when John had intervened between her and the Sergeant, Teyla had tried to plead with John that Sergeant Bates had been out of line, trying to tell her friend what the other had called her…it is something that Teyla is ashamed of now.  Was ashamed of then.  Let alone striking out at Sergeant Bates, but then also using John’s more than just mere friendship and camaraderie affections for her to help justify her actions, to make the punishment for her action less.  Thankfully John had exacted the proper punishment to both Teyla and Sergeant Bates.  An equal measure of confinement to quarters for both of them.

The fact of the situation was that both Teyla and Sergeant Bates had been out of line.  There had been greater things than just their own prejudicial differences at stake then…the same as now:  people’s lives.  And the wellbeing and safety of the city of Atlantis herself.

“I do not think it is personal, Jennifer,” Teyla finally says, although she does not exactly believe that herself; they are the words that need to be said now, “Ronon would never jeopardize Colonel Sheppard or Rodney let alone Major Lorne and although the same may not be said of Lieutenant Kenmore, you know he is not good at just standing by and doing nothing.”

“But this is not nothing,” Jennifer gestures with her hand like a stabbing blade at the screen of the laptop.

“But it is not physical,” Teyla points out.

Jennifer shakes her head, frustrated.  That’s not good enough.  Not by a long shot.  She’s not buying that ‘physical’ crap anymore.

Teyla takes a long breath.

“Ronon would be the first person to tell you that this,” she gestures at the computers and papers and other scientific and research things around them, “is not anything of what he knows or cares to know about because he does not understand their use nor their purpose.  He does not see it.  It is nothing against either you or Rodney or the relationship the two of you share, it is just that he has been asked to do something that he does not understand how it will help them.”

Okay, maybe that’s something Jennifer can understand, something she can take.  But…

“That isn’t everything,” Jennifer tells her heavily, “He still can’t look at me…won’t talk to me…ignores me.  I’m trying to help him and he’s, he’s…”  She trails off, at a loss for words.

Again Teyla understands.

“Losing Amelia has been exceptionally tough on him—“

“It started before then.  It started when I told him I was interested in Rodney more than him,” Jennifer cuts her friend off.

Teyla takes a moment, again she is not entirely sure how to go about this.  Intimate relationships are by their very nature very personal.  Teyla had felt the burn of it more than once here in the city…and among her people on New Athos as well.  Teyla had never thought before that simply paying an honor such as naming your child after his, what was the Earth term again…Godfather, would be seen as some sort of indicator of who his biological father is.  Had she known that people were going to continue to believe, despite Kanaan’s presence in Atlantis with Teyla and their mutually biological son Torren, that John Sheppard is Torren’s father simply because her child’s second name is John, she…she would have still named the child in honor of his Godfather.  Teyla does care what people think of her, but she believes more in people caring about the truth and knowing it than in blind faith in ignorance and gossipy rumors.  Torren will grow up knowing the truth, that is all Teyla needs to know about that.  And what other people needed to know about it, well…

“You were the first since Melena,” Teyla tells her, “The first he wanted to care about…and wanted to care about him.  And after you would not have him then he discovered Amelia…I think he is afraid.”

Jennifer looks at her, willing to listen and perhaps understanding as well.  After all what she is feeling now is most likely what the man is feeling as well…or has been feeling for a little over a month now since Amelia’s promotion and transfer back to Earth.

“And you know how he reacts under fear,” Teyla goes on.  “I believe that this is simply a manifestation of that fear.  People he cares about are in trouble and there is nothing we can do about it.  Nothing he can physically do about it.  We have no clues as to what that anomaly was or how it took them or who created it.  He is growing restless because he is afraid for them.  He does not want to lose any more people he cares about, he has already lost so many.  All of his past.”

Jennifer nods, but Teyla can still see the reservations on her friend’s face.

“But with no other evidence, the only clue we have left is that they all have the Ancient gene.  That’s something.”  Jennifer presses.

Teyla nods, “It is, which is why Mister Woolsey has asked me to tell you that we are now putting extra emphasis on this part of the investigation.  Its truth is all that we have.”

Jennifer opens her mouth, but Teyla…

“And I will talk to Ronon on your behalf.  Right now, we need everyone on this.”

Teyla glances at the computer with a subtle smile and a subtle offering gesture with her hand, hoping she is luring her dear friend back to what is really important right now…not squabbling, not bickering, not fighting.

Jennifer nods and goes back to reviewing the database.  Teyla keeps it to herself, but she breathes an interior sigh of relief.  She can feel her ribcage expand greatly and quickly then constrict steadily, but there is no sound of the air passing through her nostrils.  Some measure of tension has ebbed away from her shoulders and her gut, but the major bulk of it is still there…and she knows where it is coming from.  Teyla leaves just as quietly as she had entered.

Posted in Season Six- Episode Four | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Episode Four- Veritas- Chapter Five

Chapter Five

Stone, stone, and…more stone.  If the Ancients were here, the process of ascending really buzz killed their ability to decorate.  Atlantis was beautiful, a place you could really understand why it had been worth preserving rather than destroying in order to prevent the Wraith from chasing them back to the Milky Way Galaxy and Earth.  This place is everything you saw in Middle Ages set movies.  No surprises, just everything you expected to see.  Dismal gray large-cut bricks with no discernible mortar, but it had to be there even if you can’t see it.  On a pretty routine basis there are black cast iron holders mounted to the wall holding wooden clubs.  Great orange flames on the clubs top tip, illuminating the hallway with a warm golden-orange glow that was all at once cozy and making you realize just how dark the place you’re walking in really is.  Like night.  Other than that, nothing really to mention.  Empty, except for the torches, walls, and clichéd décor.

The team of Ancient gene using four walk through the hallway.  As the group move forward, they keep occasionally looking behind them.

“Does anybody else find it really spooky that we haven’t run into anybody yet?  I mean not even so much as an Ascended energy puff,” Rodney asks.

“Well maybe you keep offending them,” Sheppard answers.

“How?”

“Name-calling,” Kenmore offers.

McKay scoffs, “What?  What name-calling?  When did I call them names?”

“Of course you didn’t, McKay, every Ascended being loves to be referred to as an energy puff,” Lorne throws his two cents in.

“Oh and how do you know that they don’t?”

The other three stop and look at the scientist like ‘Really?  You just said that?’ for a moment before continuing walking again.  They come to the end of the hallway, it turns left.  Sheppard and Kenmore slow up to the corner then peer around it.  Nothing.  Still no one.  But there are doors finally.  Short, medieval-looking, rectangular, thick wooden doors decorated, not exactly ornately, near its top and bottom by large bars of black iron.  They have black iron door handles that are nothing but pull rings too.  Again, they’ve seen this in period movies before.  Nothing new, at least from an interior design standpoint.

Kenmore moves out into the corridor, much to Sheppard’s irriation, she’s always going to do that, isn’t she?  When nothing jumps out and attacks her, Sheppard follows as do the other two men.  Kenmore walks up to the first door, one on the left about five feet away from their corner’s sharply square edge.  Without hesitation, the Lieutenant reaches out and pulls open the door.  Sheppard clenches his teeth again, she didn’t even bother to check to see if it might be boobytrapped.

The Lieutenant gazes at what she sees inside.  Thoroughly bored and unimpressed.  The others come up beside her and look inside too.  Empty.  Not a damn thing.  Just more brickwork, and not even a single sconce.  Just a ten by ten empty room.  Kenmore puts her arm in and flaps it up and down, just in case there might be some threatening field there they can’t see, you never know until you try.  Both Sheppard and Rodney roll their eyes, Lorne looks just as bored with it all as Kenmore does, then she pulls her arm back out and closes the door.  Quietly, again just in case that armed enemy horde is around another hallway corner up ahead…or at the end of this hallway…or hiding behind one of the other doors here, but somehow she seriously doubts that last idea.  They move on.

Three feet away and on the right is another door.  Again Kenmore totally abandons caution and standard military protocol for a situation like this, kidnapped and being kept in what might be a hostile stronghold, and opens up the door without so much as an attempt at hesitation.  This time she leans her head against the side of the door with a sigh and her body slumps against it as well.  Again the men come up beside her and look in.  The room is just as small as the one on the other side and it’s just the same.  Ten by ten, brickwork, no torch sconces, nothing.  Yea.

Kenmore turns around and faces the rest of the hallway they need to go up and kicks the door closed behind.  It swings shut with a loud bang.  Sheppard and McKay wince.  Sheppard hissing a curse under the cover of the ricocheting noise.  Kenmore keeps walking, Lorne walks past the cringing waiting other two to join her.  Sheppard comes out of his cringe, blatantly noticing that Lorne didn’t even so much as look at his superior officer and hadn’t taken the same cue Rodney had to brace for whatever the Lieutenant drew to them.  Her lack of respect, Sheppard could do without that in Lorne.  He trusts the Major, has known to trust him from almost the very beginning of Lorne’s tour in Atlantis and John didn’t need that man putting friendship, and its subsequent lack of professionalism accompanying it, ahead of what John expected and respected most in Major Evan Lorne:  his professionalism.  But, again, nothing comes at them.  Nothing answers the bang or even bothers to come investigate it.  Rodney uncringes and Sheppard and he head off after their ‘companions’.

Not what Sheppard had been expecting them to do, Kenmore and Lorne wait at the end of the hallway for John and Rodney to catch up.  Once joined up into a group of four again, they look around the hallway’s corner going right.  There’s only one door on the left about four feet away in this hallway.  Other than that, it’s empty.  Again.  And again Kenmore, this time accompanied by Sheppard however, walks up to the door and boredly pulls it open.  Both she and Sheppard, side by side, look inside.  Again a ten by ten empty brick room with no torch sconces whatsoever.  Nothing…Again.  God…, she’s too bored to sigh anymore.  Kenmore nudges the door forward and it swings closed.  Quieter than John had expected it to but still with more than enough of a bang, just not thunderous like the one before had been.  The group heads to the end of the hall, this time it ends in a T-shaped intersection.  Not something usual they’ve come across before in this ‘castle’, but it’s a welcome change…kinda.

They look left.  That part of the new perpendicular hallway is only a nubbin, about four feet in length ending in a single doorway.  Then they look right.  This side is much longer but it’s still more empty, doorless, brickworked, equidistant torches for wall sconces hallway.  The group looks at each other and nods.  Sheppard and Kenmore lead them over to the lone door to the left.  This time Sheppard opens it.  A small…empty…friggin’ room.  This time Sheppard fights the urge to sigh boredly as he nudges the door forward out of his hand and lets it swing closed.  It did so as quietly as he’d expected it to.  See, this is how bored he is in this place, has become bored in this place; he’s evaluating and physically measuring the requirements of pushing a door closed with enough exertion to figure out how loud it’s going to sound when it shuts…see, bored.  Really, really bored.  Right now he’s regretting ever mentioning the idea of weapons being in here or Ancients being in here or anything armed with said weapons being in here.  Apparently he’d really built up this place with absolutely no excuse for it.

The group turns, walks past the part of the T-section leading back to the hallway they’d just come from, the bottom shaft of the T, and start walking down the new doorless hallway.  Although describing it as ‘new’ now seems a pathetic description because nothing’s changed except location and even that is now becoming just as un-‘new’ and pathetic as describing the appearance of the hallway…all the hallways technically.

“Okay then, Rodney,” Sheppard pipes up, anything to break up the monotony, “what’s your explanation so far ‘cause let alone haven’t we found any Ancients, Ascended or not, but we also haven’t found any of those weapons I was hoping might be in here and you were so afraid of?”

“I wasn’t afraid of them,” Rodney gets defensive.

Kenmore scoffs and Lorne tries to hide his smile by simply lowering his head, but he doesn’t actually bother to lower it enough to really hide it from McKay’s view of his profile.

Rodney rolls his eyes, “Look I wasn’t afraid of them.”

The snickering continues.

“Fine then, you tell me how many times we’ve run into that particular situation where we’ve gone into an unknown place like this, taken against our wills, left on our own until whoever took us comes back for us, and have not, I repeat not, stumbled on people wanting to kill us and their armed with, Oh, what are they called again, yes, of course, weapons?”

The three soldiers exchange looks between each other.  Okay so the scientist does have a point, for once the entire time they’ve been wandering around in this castle.  They all keep walking on in silence, letting McKay have his point, and looking around themselves for any of those ‘particular situation’ well-armed bad guys that had a tendency to pop up.  They come to the end of the long hallway and turn the only corner it offers them, the left.  None of them are exactly happy with this occurring; they haven’t been so far with all the other you-can-only-go-this-way hallway corners, but okay.  They really don’t have a choice and it just makes it that much easier to escape if it—and it usually does—come to that.  Unfortunately, it’ll also be easier for whoever’s after them to follow them.  But that’s okay too, they’ll just have to run faster than the bad guys, no stragglers.  John glances over at Rodney, okay, ‘no stragglers’ as in John will physically drag Rodney by the ears or let Kenmore or Lorne trail behind the man drop kicking his ass and putting the fear of that time he’d been shot in the butt by an arrow back into his thick scientist skull to get him to move faster.  He hadn’t liked his butt becoming a victim then and he definitely won’t like it becoming a victim now.

Sheppard and Kenmore ease up to and peer around the corner again then move out into it.  They end up in another long hallway that looks exactly like the one they were just in.  And the one they were in before the door-lined hallway…and the one before that one…and the one before that…and the one before that.  Rodney and Lorne, bringing up the rear as usual since entering the castle, look behind themselves again.  Really, this is starting to spook the hell out of them while simultaneously numbing their skulls…

Again McKay nominates himself to be the one to speak first, “Is anyone else worried that we won’t be able to find our way out of here again?”

“Yeah, it’s like a labyrinth,” this time Sheppard can hear the mocking in Lorne’s voice as the major feigns actually sounding on Rodney’s side, knowing full well that there’s nothing confusing about the place.  It isn’t a labyrinth, it’s just winding.  Going this way then that then this again then that.

“Well, we’ll just run around until we find our way out again,” Sheppard answers sarcastically.  He wasn’t much for people questioning his ability to command, especially since, as Rodney pointed out, this isn’t exactly a situation that they haven’t found themselves in before.  It’s not like they haven’t gotten out of stuff like this before.  And he especially doesn’t like the questions coming from Rodney.  Judging by the sounds and the silences—Kenmore—of it, the soldiers of the group won’t have any problems at all finding their way back out of here.  So it’s like John was thinking before, the only problem that should arise is going to be getting out of here fast, i.e. Rodney.

And like practically every one of those times before, Rodney isn’t cowtailing to John’s sarcasm one bit.

“Well gee, I guess I’ll just have to remember all those hours of playing Zelda when I was a kid.”

“When you were a kid?”  Lorne can’t help teasing him.

Kenmore comes to a stop, effectively stopping the whole group with her, and looks back at McKay.

“You and Zelda?”  She asks.

“Yes, me and Zelda,” Rodney answers, fully prepared for the next round of their own personally version of Whack-a-Mole, i.e. Beat-on-Rodney.  Yes, please, by all means bring on the ribbing.

But Lieutenant Kenmore points at herself instead, “Me and Zork.”

“You and Zork,” he can’t believe it.

She nods at him enthusiastically.

Rodney smiles at her, Ursula smiles back at him.

“Oh God, please do not bond,” Lorne sighs, bowing his head to pinch the bridge of his nose between his fingers and rub it.

“Oh, like how you and that chick from Kinthia’s planet bonded,” Kenmore accuses sassily.

Lorne suddenly glares at her over the knuckles of his pinching fingers.

Both Sheppard and Rodney would like to know more about that.  Lorne ‘bonded’ with a woman on an alien planet?  Neither Sheppard nor Rodney can keep the sarcasm out the way they’re thinking that particular thought.  They also can’t help but follow it up with a children’s song but revising it just a little.  Lorne and Some Alien Woman, sittin’ in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G…John’s smirk is even more teasing and smug than the ones he’s been leveling at Rodney while they’ve been teasing him and Rodney’s smirking, well that’s just in a whole new level of smugness all its own.  Rodney crosses his arms over his chest and John casually puts his hands in his pants’ pockets, both waiting patiently for the inevitable punchline at Lorne’s expense…

Kenmore obliges by leaning over to Sheppard a little and he returns the move too a little, “Country music. Ugh,” she shudders.

Sheppard smiles.  Lorne’s glare darkens, turning his whole face more dower, more like a look most often found on Ronon’s face.  Now that’s more like it.  That’s more like the team dynamic Sheppard’s used to, Ronon ticked off at Kenmore.  There you go.  Sheppard and Kenmore turn back around and the group starts walking again.

After a few more handfuls of moments of silence…

“Country music isn’t that bad,” Evan defends his taste in music.

“Eh, the only good thing about you back then was Van Halen.  The good Van Halen stuff too,” his best friend answers.

“David Lee Roth in the 80s.”  Sheppard wagers.

Kenmore nods, “But I was always partial to the Sammy Hagar in the 90s stuff though.  Much more than the David Lee Roth, but don’t get me wrong, the David Lee stuff is just classic.

Sheppard nods as they come up on the end of the hallway.

“Me too.  Right Now is a great song.”

Kenmore flings her head back, her eyes widening, “Oh My God, yes,” she friendly reaches out and slaps the back of her hand against his stomach as her head returns to its normal position and her eyes return to their usual size, “The best.”

“Oh don’t you two go bonding either,” Rodney comments.

Sheppard and Kenmore scoff.

“Yeah right,” they say in unison.

“Like that’s gonna happen,” Kenmore adds.

Once again the group come to the end of the hallway, again Sheppard and Kenmore ease up to its corner and peer around.  Still no one.  They look back at the others and roll their eyes with a sigh.  Really, this is getting out of hand.  It’s gone from creepy to mind numbing boring and that’s even more dangerous than being creeped out.  Creeped out keeps you on your toes, granted it had you freaking out at every sound or perceived sound or shadow around you, and that could be excessive, but it still kept you aware of your surroundings.  Bored makes you blind to the little things that should prick both your mind and your senses that something’s not right, and that includes perceived sounds and shadows as well as the real sounds and shadows.  They head around the left turn corner.  And abruptly come face to face with Ganos Lal.  The Ascended Ancient woman once known and forever known on Earth as the infamous Morgan LeFay.  The Bane of Camelot.

She stands before them.  Calm and unassuming.  Beautiful in a classical Raphaelite way, the smooth angular brow line, cheekbones, jaw line, and chin that masters of fine sculpture would envy to carve and smooth into eternal marble or granite.  Even her ears have a perfectly carved quality that shapes and defines her face to angelic proportions, like the statues of angels or the Virgin Mary herself found in churches or cemeteries.  She’s radiant in her gorgeous Ancient and Medieval hybrid clothing in hues of luminous whites.  Twin spaghetti straps frame both of her shoulders as they elegantly slump down away from her Venus de Milo neck, which bears an ornate choker made up of strings of crystals and pearls emanating and cascading down from the base of her neck ending in a fine oval pendant that seems to be made up of light trapped in the heart of a water-clear smooth crystal like glass nestled just above her breast line.  Draping from her de Milo proportioned biceps are folds and folds of the most flowing and luxurious white chiffon-like fabric.  The same fabric flows from a sweetheart-cut top framing her Michelangelo bosom all the way down her body to the floor, hiding her most likely just as refined as the rest of her gown and jewelry shoes from view.  She doesn’t need a halo or an aura of light to surround her, the voluminous folds of her gown cover her body more than adequately to convey the hopes to the faithful of an angel.  She smiles a kind demur smile at them.  In every way a mimic of Mona Lisa to the point one would think she’d modeled it for Da Vinci herself and knowing how old she is, she probably could have.  And one can definitely see how there’d be a slight condescension to it too although there isn’t any of that in the painting.  It’s not necessarily enigma so much as patronizing school marm.

“I’m so glad that you decided to come inside,” she tells them in her attractively sumptuous tone of voice complimented with a sophisticated sounding English accent, “And might I ask, who is Zelda?”

The four SGC members stare at her.

Posted in Season Six- Episode Four | Tagged , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Episode Four- Veritas- Chapter Four

Chapter Four

Teyla comes around the curve in the hall and sees Radek scanning the area just in front of the opened doorway into the hologram room her friends and Lieutenant Kenmore had been seemingly sucked into only ten minutes ago.  The reaction to the abductions had been swift and all encompassing.  The various science teams analyzing many other things throughout the city had been called off of their own projects and put to work on only this, Radek had been put in charge of them all.  Kanaan had used his earpiece to contact Teyla once word had gone throughout the city that over half of the members of the Expedition’s flagship team had been taken.  Teyla had answered his call quickly, but even she willingly admits that her tone and word choice had been both short and gruff with him.  She has still not gotten over their argument from this morning…and she is not willing to ‘cool down’ from it anytime soon.

Radek is wielding the same t-shaped rod scanning device he had when the explosive tumor in Doctor Harriet Hewston had blown up a hallway of the city on the Expedition’s first implemented “Sunday” off.

“Have you discovered anything yet,” she asks.

“No,” Radek answers, “It is as Rodney said before he disappeared.  I am getting no readings whatsoever.  Whatever it is that took them, it has left no traces behind it.”

“Perhaps the city’s sensors would be able to detect something?”

“I tried those first.  Even on their most sensitive setting they still show nothing.  That is why I came down here personally with this, but…”

As he trails off, Teyla nods disappointedly but understandingly.

“Inform us if and when you discover something.”

Radek nods at her and Teyla turns and walks away again.  She doubts very highly now that she will ‘cool down’ any sooner than even she had expected to.

 

 

The fan like doors of Atlantis’ briefing room open and Teyla walks in, her Earth-made beige suede sneakers making no sound on the smooth marble floor, on Richard Woolsey, Ronon Dex, and Doctor Jennifer Keller already seated and waiting there at the massive mahogany conference table that takes up most of the small rounded room.  Apparently she has walked in on their already occurring discussion.  They look up at her entrance through the fanning doors, pausing their conversation as Teyla quickly takes her usual seat, the second seat on the right.

Woolsey, at the head of the table, keeps his eyes on her, “Has he found out anything yet?”

“No, but he will inform us as soon as he has anything.”

Woolsey nods then turns to look at everyone.  Far fewer than were normally present at this table when it was usually used.  He doesn’t like that.

“So we still have nothing.  No idea, no clue what that was or what’s happened to our people.”

Teyla reluctantly nods, agreeing with him.  Resting her bare forearms on the cold surface of the wood table and bringing her hands together in front of her on them.  She fights the urge to shiver at the sudden chill, her sleeveless iridescent purple, frayed-edged, ruffled silk paneled and bluish grey smoothed animal hide paneled vest with lace up sides with light grey laces and antiqued brass closures, that numerous female members of the Expedition had told her could be found more commonly on Earth on purses, providing no cover whatsoever.

Woolsey lets out a frustrated sigh, the first in front of others in his whole time in Atlantis, let alone as its leader.

“Maybe not nothing,” Jennifer suddenly pipes up from her third seat on the left side.

The others look at her.

“You know what that anomaly was,” Woolsey asks shocked.  Why hadn’t she said anything before?  After all one of the taken is her boyfriend.  Her loved one.

“No,” she tells him, “but I did notice something about what happened.”

“What?”

Jennifer slips the file out from underneath her hands, where she had been keeping it, and slides it over to Woolsey.  He reaches out and takes it, he had been thinking that it was probably some report on a patient or some other part of her work that she had felt was too important even in this crisis to let out of her sight or reach.  Richard opens up the file.  As he examines its pages…

“The people it took all have Ancient DNA,” she informs them all of basically what Richard’s reading is boiled down to.

Woolsey takes out the individual 8×10 glossy photos of Lorne, Sheppard, Kenmore, and Rodney and holds them beside the file papers underneath the set of 8×10 matte photos showing diagrams of the missing personnel’s DNA helixes as Jennifer goes on.

“With the exception of Rodney, they all have Ancient DNA naturally.  In fact they are the most Ancient Touch Activation adeptive people the Expedition has.”

“Not Rodney,” Ronon, right beside her on her right, can’t help but re-iterate her previous point.

Jennifer turns to him, “But even with his Ancient genes being only partially activated by Carson’s gene therapy, Rodney is still very capable with ATA.  He can even pilot the jumpers, granted not very well, but he can still do it.  Whatever it was that took them, I think it decided to take only the Ancient gene possessing people within its reach.”

“But it didn’t immediately take Rodney,” Ronon can’t help but point out the obvious again.

“That’s what makes me think it was deciding who it wanted.”

Ronon takes a moment, looking like he’s considering the information seriously.  It is possible…at least she has both proof and truth to back up what she’s saying.  It does seem unlikely, but it’s not like someone targeting the Ancient DNA possessing members of their Expedition hasn’t happened before.  The last time it did, Ronon felt offended for not being included on the target list, his not having any Ancient DNA at all regardless.

Jennifer keeps making her case to the rest of the extremely small gathering, “And Teyla, you were right there.  Right in front of the door with another soldier.  And it still didn’t take either you or the soldier.  I think it’s fair to point out that both you and the soldier don’t have Ancient DNA,” Jennifer turns her chair to face Woolsey, “It sucked in Lieutenant Kenmore.  It sucked in Major Lorne and Colonel Sheppard.  Then it waited and sucked in Rodney.  Then, it just went away.”

They all consider the information.  She does have a point, they all can definitely concede that.  Teyla remembers being with Ronon looking for Major Lorne and John and Rodney in the village of another planet and a woman coming up to them and handing them Genii made photos of their missing friends.  Then Expedition leader Doctor Elizabeth Weir had pointed out that the Genii had put out a bounty on only Ancient Gene possessing members of their Expedition that were known to be active in the field.  And Richard Woolsey knows that having a definitive point when pleading a case is the hallmark of swinging a jury’s opinion towards your favor…

“Well, at least it’s something,” Richard appraises, “You’ll have to get more and frankly better evidence than this, Doctor Keller, before I state that that was what happened.”

Jennifer nods, drawing the folds of her long, white lab coat further over her chest.  She had been expecting that.  Not exactly everybody jumping out of their chairs and exclaiming ‘You got it!’, but at least she was being given at least some hint of leeway on researching this further.

“Only she could see it,” Teyla suddenly says.

They all look at her now.

“What, Teyla?”

She turns to Richard, “The first time the anomaly was seen, Lieutenant Kenmore and I were in the kitchen.  She swore she saw it then.  That was the intruder she was reporting.  Then when she was heading for the Command Center, she stopped by the hologram room and looked at it as though she sensed something was there.  Then John and Evan came and they mentioned seeing the anomaly as well.  As did Rodney.”

“But they all were in totally different areas of the city,” Jennifer says.

Teyla looks Woolsey dead on, her expression telling him that there might be more merit to Jennifer’s suspicion than he might be thinking.  He takes a moment to read her eyes and make his own judgment call.

“Doctor Keller, I want you and Ronon to investigate this further.  Keep Teyla, Doctor Zelenka, and I apprised of what you uncover.  Let’s get our people back.”

They all nod and Woolsey gets up from the table.

Posted in Season Six- Episode Four | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Episode Four- Veritas- Chapter Three

Chapter Three

Kenmore, a little ahead of Teyla, runs around a corner of the hallway, she’s further into the city with the help of a transporter, and suddenly skids to a halt.  Teyla ends up a few steps ahead of her before Teyla herself comes to a stop, realizing that Kenmore has.  She looks back at the Lieutenant.  Kenmore’s eyes are wide and suspicious, looking from side to side as though she’s searching the walls for something.  Does she see whatever it was again?  Teyla’s eyes look around as well.  There is nothing suspicious here.  Nothing to draw attention.  They are just in a hallway a few steps from being in front of the room with the holographic program of a woman that the Ancients had used as an instructional device for children.  Around the other end of the curving hallway comes Sheppard with Doctor Radek Zelenka and another soldier.  The men pause.  Teyla looks at them, she has no idea what is going on.

“Did you see it,” Sheppard asks her urgently.

“See what,” Teyla repeats to him.

Kenmore takes slow cautious steps forward past Teyla, eyeing the wall to her right.  Ronon Dex comes hobbling up to Teyla from the same direction both Kenmore and she have just come from with Jennifer and a couple of nurses chasing after him.  Teyla looks back at her injured friend.

“What is it?  Who’s here,” the Satedan demands.

But Teyla’s expression makes it clear she’s at a loss for both words and insight.

Then Rodney comes up behind John and Zelenka with Lorne and Woolsey.

“Did you see that,” Rodney exclaims, “It was like some sort of spatial distortion then it was just gone.”

Lieutenant Kenmore stops just in front of the door to the holographic room.  She’s staring at it.  Then slowly turns her body towards it.

Suddenly the door swings open.  Faster.  More out of control than anything Teyla has ever seen before in the city.  The distortion is there for all to see just inside the room.  Kenmore unexpectedly slams back against the floor like her feet have been abruptly yanked out from underneath her.  She yelps.  The distortion quickly begins sucking her in.

“Urs,” Lorne yells and dives for his friend’s hands.

He hits the ground latching onto her forearms, she latches onto his.  Then it’s like the distortion is pissed off it might be losing its meal.  It sucks Kenmore in faster.  Dragging Lorne with her.  Sheppard dives and catches Lorne’s ankles just as Kenmore disappears into the distortion and Lorne’s head disappears.  Teyla braces back.  It would do no one any good if she fell to the came trick this, this thing is deploying by luring friends in to save other friends.  There must be another way…The monster’s appetite, at John’s attachment, hits overdrive and before Teyla can even think to dive for her friend and team leader or figure something other help out, he’s sucked whole into the distortion as well with Evan.

They’re gone.

Ronon hobbles forward, trying to retrieve him.  But Teyla puts a hand against his casted slung arm to stop him.  Everyone is shocked.  They’re all gone…So fast.

But the distortion is still here.  An ominous floating whirlpool waiting for another unsuspecting ship of sailors to pass within reach of its warping vortex.

Rodney takes timid steps forward, careful to be as far away from the opened doorway as he can possibly get.  His computer tablet in hand, staring down at the device.  Working on it.  Shocked by what it’s telling him.

“That’s amazing.  Internal sensors indicate nothing’s there.  No heat readings.  No anomalous energy signature.  No abnormal environmental readings.  Not even any signs of stress of any sort on the city’s infrastructure.”

He comes to a stop as much against the opposite wall from the opened doorway as he can get without becoming a part of the wall.  He looks over at Teyla.

“The city says there’s nothing there,” he tells her, floored.  He gestures at the opened doorway, “Nothing.”

She looks over at their waiting intruder, what is that that it can hide in plain sight?  The whirlpooling distortion flairs a little as if to threaten Teyla for her mere thoughts of it.

Abruptly Rodney’s feet are ripped out from underneath him.  He holds on to his laptop.  Trying to claw some sort of hold into the marble flooring as he slides across it with his other hand.  It’s happening faster again.  All of it.

This time Teyla does not hesitate, she reaches for Rodney.  He sees it.  Rolls onto his stomach, reaches for her too.  But he’s being sucked into the distortion too fast.  Teyla tries desperately to reach him, getting on her hands and knees, while still keeping herself out of the distortion’s apparent reach.  Jennifer screams for Rodney, tries to dash for him herself, but Ronon is in her way.  His fingers aren’t catching on anything.  Rodney digs in his heels.  His boots catch on the barely perceptible lip of the change in floor tile design on the threshold of the room.  It’s Teyla’s chance.  She stretches out for him.

Like it can sense its prey about to be snatched out of its grasp, the distortion yanks on Rodney.  He’s flung up.  Airborne by the power of the pull.  The distortion sucks the rest of him away as he keeps reaching…

“Teyla!”

The door slams shut with a speed and a power that she feels its shuddering reverberations in the very bones of her palms and knees.  The strength of it tells her she had no hope of pulling her friend away from whatever that thing was without being dragged away by it herself, just as John and Evan have been.  But no hope has never stopped Teyla Emmagan before.  She desperately scrambles up off the floor for the door, but it remains slammed shut in her face.  She digs her fingernails, her very fingertips, into the seam of where the door’s edge meets the wall.  Trying to pry the door back open.  Ronon tries to rush forward to help her, but Jennifer and the nurses hold him back.  The other soldier that had accompanied John and Radek comes up and tries to help her.  But it is no use even with both of them.  She looks over at Richard Woolsey and Radek for anything, any order the Expedition’s leader can give her, any information one of its top scientists can give her.  But the men are silent.  Dumbstruck.

Suddenly the door begins to swing open at its usual speed with its usual pneumatic hiss when it senses a presence before it.  Teyla’s head immediately snaps to look over at it.  The soldier beside her jumps away from it.  Inside, the room is empty.  No distortion.  It looks as it always has.  A peaceful waiting place for those who come seeking its kept knowledge.  The door’s wall is exactly like the briefing room’s wall of fan doors except that the hologram room’s fan wall has only a single door, the center door panel of the fan, for a doorway.  The rest of the room’s walls are again exactly like the briefing room’s and the floor is the same rust colored marble bisected by strips of silver forming random geometric shapes as the rest of Atlantis’ floors.  There is a difference between the briefing room and this room.  The very center of this room, surrounded by a four-foot wide perimeter border of flooring, is a twelve-sided, one step high, raised platform.  And very much unlike anything else in Atlantis, the platform is made of silvery grey marble trimmed and bordered and bisected by two-inch wide strips of rust-colored marble, ornamenting the surface of the platform with a wheel and spokes design dividing the sides up evenly between the rust-colored marble ‘spokes’.  Immediately adjacent to one of those sides, almost opposite the room’s sole door, is a podium computer console.  The podium comes up midway of an average man’s chest and has its own polygon, step-high platform to support both it and its operator.  The podium itself is a trapezoidal thing that’s made of the same textured copper as the wall’s trimmings and moldings are and it’s top is a crystalline, glassy touch surface, that when lit shows a beautiful Caribbean Ocean blue, teamed up with a few cog-shaped textured copper pieces for refining the hologram’s imaging and program settings.  Stunned, Teyla looks back over at Richard and Radek.  They still have nothing for her.

*                      *                      *

Dark.  Black.  Rodney falls back screaming, landing on the rock ground and something squishy that he really doesn’t want to know anything about just yet.  He finally stops screaming though as soon as he realizes that his landing was nowhere near as harsh as he had expected it to be.  His computer tablet slams harshly on the ground beside him.  Rodney narrows he’s wide eyes back to their normal focus and size and looks around himself…and kind of wiggles his butt against the squishy part of his landing.  What is that?

“That wasn’t nearly as bad as I thought it was going to be,” he says out loud to himself.

“That’s because you landed on me,” Sheppard’s voice comes seemingly out of nowhere.

Rodney looks over to his left and sees Sheppard prone on his stomach with one of his legs leading underneath Rodney.  And just beyond Sheppard is Lorne finally, apparently, pulling himself up off the jagged edged, dark reddish brown rock ground.  Apparently Sheppard had landed on the Major.  Ahead of Lorne is Kenmore, at the edge of what of their rocky landscape Rodney can see, getting herself up off the ground.  She’d apparently landed stomach down too, but Rodney doesn’t think it looks like Lorne had landed on her though; it seems Rodney is the only one to have landed on his butt…And its pitch black all around them beyond the rock.  Yet there’s oddly enough more than enough light for him to see around their rock landing zone.

“Now get your fat ass off my leg,” Sheppard adds, giving a mean but stifled kick under Rodney’s butt with his trapped leg.

“Fine, fine, fine,” McKay mutters.

He starts to heave himself up, freeing Sheppard’s leg which John quickly takes back underneath himself.  As Sheppard pushes himself up on all-fours and Lorne manages to lift himself back to sit on his own heels, which Kenmore is doing too, Rodney sits up and finally notices the thin filthy dusting of dirt his tablet’s gotten from its hard landing.  He picks it up disgustedly and irritatedly starts brushing it off.  The machine’s not damaged, not even scratched, but it’s the point…

“My God.  Would you look at this?  There is a reason these things normally come with cans of air duster in their regular size.”

“I don’t think that’s our biggest problem McKay,” Lorne warns him, “Look.”

Rodney absently looks over and sees Lorne and Sheppard staring ahead of themselves with open mouths…and shock-and-awed eyes.  For a moment, Rodney’s heart skips a beat.  Is the anomaly back?  He really doesn’t want to look behind him, but Lorne and Sheppard just can’t stop staring.  Reluctantly, Rodney turns his head further…and his own jaw falls open.

Yards away from him is what looks like a massive grey-stoned Medieval castle complete with lowered wooden drawbridge over what looks like a moat—is that really a moat?—and a giant pair of closed wooden and iron fastened doors that come to a pointed arch at their top.  It suddenly occurs to Rodney, this is what Camelot on Earth must have really looked like…Or was it Camelot on that one planet SG-1 went to?  A far less refined outward appearance compared to that one the Ancients, well Merlin, had built on that other planet in the Milky Way.  So probably no on the SG-1 Camelot.  This one is so, so…primitive.  So…humanized.  So cobbled together at the last second looking compared to the fortress that the other Camelot had been described as and photographs Daniel Jackson had taken had confirmed about it.  That’s it!  This place is just the castle not the sort of fortified city that Camelot was supposed to be.  It’s like someone had recreated a medieval village but only actually managed to get the main, ‘important’, part done before anybody got here.  And where is here exactly?

“Does anyone have any clue what planet we’re on,” the theoretical astrophysicist asks.

“I don’t think we’re on a planet,” Kenmore suddenly pipes up.

The three men look back at her.  Kenmore’s peering over the edge of their rocky landing pad.  Lorne simply scoots over to her as the other men crawl over and the three of them look over the edge with her.

Below them, looking small and tiny, but each with their own exceptional light are not exactly stars spread out in the impenetrably thick oily blackness that surrounds them, but whole galaxies and random handfuls of what must have been enormous stars at one time before they literally ate themselves to death and formed spectacular nebulas that the Hubble Space Telescope took fantasy-making photos of.  But it still sticks out to them how all of those unfathomably massive things look so tiny.  It’s because they’re all so distant.  All of those things must be incredibly far away.  Exactly like the countless images of the Universe from the Hubble that Rodney had downloaded from the NASA website onto a flashdrive back on Earth for his computer in Atlantis.  Then it dawns on him.  No, they are definitely not on a planet.  No, those things are definitely not far away from them.  They are far from those things.  He remembered that when Hubble had taken those photos, the telescope was actually reducing its magnification in order to take in the scope of the Universe…they’re taking in the scope of the Universe now.  Sheppard, Rodney, Kenmore, and Lorne continue to stare down into the galaxy studded darkness beneath the rock oasis they’ve found themselves landed on.  Oh God, Rodney knows where they’re at.

“What is that down there,” Sheppard asks, the tone of his voice definitely making it clear that he already knows the answer, he just doesn’t want to actually know it.

“The Universe,” Rodney tells him, not obliging the man with the courtesy of a lie, “We’re looking down at the Universe.”  Holy crap.

Feeling his tablet in his hand, Rodney instantly consults his computer.  But it won’t respond to his touch.  Won’t work at all.  McKay sits back on his heels.

“It’s dead,” he announces with an exasperated sigh.  Of course it would be.  Seriously the battery life on these things is totally impractical.

“You mean we’re stuck here,” Lorne stares at him.

“No, he means we’re stuck out here,” Sheppard points back at the big castle, “We could be stuck in there.”

The group looks at the megalith that looked like it was plucked from the 1100s.  Instantly for two, what should have been three really, of them a flashback happens…

 

…standing at the precipice of the world’s biggest waterfall—well, at least this world’s biggest waterfall.  Again Teyla walks close to the bone grey-white cobblestone platform’s edge and looks down over it, the spray gently misting her face.  Rodney comes up beside her, getting sprayed too.  He bet if it were summer, this would be nicely refreshing like getting spritzed by one of those little spray bottles with fans on the top of them.  He looks up at the sky, so overcast with thick, definitely not cotton ball storm clouds it looks dark slate gray, and shivers, drawing the open collar of his black Atlantis field ops bomber-style uniform jacket closed tightly over his Adam’s apple.  But today the spray is freezing cold, probably run off by some glacier somewhere.  Although there had been no indications of mountains in the area, that didn’t mean anything necessarily.  Scans from the Daedalus in orbit showed just a plateau-like landmass a fifth the size of Atlantis’ original homeworld’s landmass.

Rodney turns to look back at the rest of their group; he sees Sheppard and Kenmore standing at the opposite end of their rather prettily and au-natural-disguised Asgard beaming platform with Ronon standing exactly in between the two pairings of Rodney with Teyla and Sheppard with Kenmore, the very middle of the beaming platform.  The Satedan eyeing the Lieutenant like he’s just waiting for her to make a move that would justify in anyway him putting a bolt from his big blaster pistol in the back of her skull.  For Rodney’s part, as Sheppard’s, he’s taking his cue from Teyla, until she wants to kill Kenmore with her bare hands over all of this stuff about the Ancients and the Athosian, Teyla’s, people herself then he isn’t going to be bothered by the obnoxious Lieutenant or any of her repulsive discoveries.

Both Kenmore and Sheppard are staring up at, from what both the Daedalus’ sensors and the team’s handheld lifesigns detectors could report as, the only structure on the entire predominantly ocean-covered planet of Amna.  Rodney abandons Teyla on the platform’s edge and walks past Ronon over to the Colonel and Lieutenant.  He joins them in staring up at the place from Sheppard’s other side.

“Not what we expected, is it,” Rodney says.

“No,” Sheppard answers.

“According to other reports Zelenka’s managed to recover about this planet while we were en-route here, it being predominantly ocean results in huge storms like the one in the middle of our first year in Atlantis, you know, super hurricanes, occurring practically all the time.  It isn’t so much that this planet has a winter, spring, summer, fall, so much as it has one perpetual hurricane season.”

“Is one of those hurricanes heading our way now,” Sheppard asks, looking up at the looming sky.

“No,” Rodney answers, “this is apparently one of Amna’s regular sized storms.  But still,” Rodney looks up at the storm clouds then back down at the structure about thirty yards away, “we should probably get inside.  Even if they are regular and nowhere near the intensity of it’s bigger storms, according to Zelenka, they can still get pretty nasty and a lot meaner than anything we’d consider ‘regular’ on Earth or Atlantis’ planet.”

A pause falls between the three Atlantis personnel continuing to eye the structure.

It’s typical Ancient architecture has all been bleached white by probably the millennia of severe storm winds stripping it bare and no one being here to repaint it…or put it back together.  It’s weird to look at something that looks so similar to something they see every day only here it’s nowhere near the regular color, not even a pale version of the usual colors.  And it’s falling apart.  It wasn’t just that there aren’t any more windows in the place nor are there any doors left for that matter, and even then only about half of the doors that remain—if you could call that remaining— have remnants of their doorframes still standing, it’s that the barely there doorframes aren’t the only things that are barely there…

“Kinda makes ya’ think there’s more to what’s left of the Parthenon,” Rodney comments.

Sheppard and Kenmore just nod their heads…

 

…And Rodney wished he really hadn’t suggested going in there, not with what they went in there and saw.  Not that it was anywhere near as bad as what they’d found at the desert planet’s structure, but still, it was one of those things that, frankly, made you wish you’d gone blind.  Rodney looks over at Sheppard.

“You want us to go in there,” he exclaims, “Sure.  Like there’s an energy source for this in there.”  Or that there’s nothing in there we want to forget for the rest of our lives.

“I’m just saying that there might be some weapons in there we can use.”

“And did it escape you that whatever brought us here might be in there primed and waiting for us with those weapons?”  Or recordings of that!

“Gee, I don’t know, Rodney, when was the last time you saw warped air wield an axe,” Sheppard mocks.

Tales from the Crypt,” Rodney quickly bites back.

Sheppard stares at him for a moment then, “You made that up.”

Ignoring the children having their usual snark session, Kenmore, still looking down at the Universe splayed out beneath her, asks, “What is this place?”

“It’s the Void,” McKay answers way too confidently for comfort.  Or belief.

She looks at him, “What void?”

McKay suddenly becomes sheepish, acting like he knows something but doesn’t want to say it.

“Rodney,” Sheppard warns, “what aren’t you telling us?”

“I remember being here,” the scientist confesses, “This is the Void.  The Void I was in when I was dying from the effects of the Ascension machine.”

As he expected, the others freak out.

Sheppard, “Dammit Rodney.”

Kenmore, “You mean we’re Ascended?!”

Lorne, “You mean we’re dead?!”

“No, no…at least I don’t think so.  Look, the last time I was here I don’t remember seeing that,” McKay points back at the castle, “And I certainly don’t remember any of this.”  He indicates the whole rocky area.

Okay that is somewhat believable, John looks around them again and catches Kenmore eyeing the Universe again.  But it’s the way she’s eyeing it.

“Kenmore,” Sheppard speaks to her low enough that the conversation is just between them.

Her head snaps to him.

“Don’t,” he warns her.

“You don’t have a son,” she just as quietly bites back at him, “If jumping out there gives me a chance to get back to him, I’m takin’ it.”

“‘If’,” he repeats to her, their eyes lock, “‘if’.”  He grabs her arm to stop her from doing anything her own brand of quintessentially crazy that usually never proves to be stupid, but none of this is usual, and looks over at Rodney.  “Rodney, are you saying there might be Ancients in there,” Sheppard, using his free hand, points at the castle again.

Rodney McKay looks at it again.  This time he weighs the odds, “There’s a pretty good chance there might be.  But like I said, I don’t remember this place being here the last time.”

John Sheppard looks back at the castle and as soon as he feels Kenmore fight his grip, he decides.

“We’re going in.”

Rodney sputters and Sheppard glares at him.

“We’re going in there,” he tells him sternly.

Sheppard feels Kenmore keep fighting him, getting more yanking about it.  He looks over at her.  She stops.  They’re glaring at each other.  “We are all going in there,” he orders.

She yanks her arm out of his grip.

John stands up and starts heading for the castle.  After a moment, Rodney follows him.  Lorne and Kenmore stand up and look at the edifice.

“That kinda looks suspiciously familiar, doesn’t it?”

“Mm-hmm, Avalon.  Only the dark and dank version.”

Lorne nods, “So I think it’s the best bet that they’re not going to find the Ascended beings in there they want to find?

“These aren’t the droids you’re looking for,” Kenmore quips.

They exchange looks then Lorne starts after his commanding officer and his Expedition’s lead scientist.  But he notices after only a few feet that he’s the only one doing so.  Evan stops and looks back.  Ursula is looking over the edge again.

“Urs,” he says her name quietly.

She looks over at him.

“We’ll get back to him,” he tells her, “I promise.”

She touches her stomach, the way an expecting mother singlehandedly covers her womb during moments of danger and fear for her unborn child…and looks back over the edge again.  Evan waits her out.  Her eyes search the Universe, her fingers pinching and fidgeting the black, cotton fabric over her stomach.  Her breathing picks up, the movements not audible but definitely physical in the depth and speed with which her chest is rising and falling.  Then she turns and walks to her friend’s side and they head after Sheppard and McKay.

Posted in Season Six- Episode Four | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

Episode Four- Veritas- Chapter Two

Chapter Two

Busy is the word to normally describe the Infirmary when one of the flagship team’s members was in here, it usually meant some calamity had befallen the city or some mission had gone horribly wrong.  Today is not a busy day.  Oh sure there are plenty of people in here with the frequent issues, burns from straying just a little too close to a lit Bunsen burner or sprained ankles from tripping over their own shoes while going up or down the city’s many stairs or bumps, bruises, and cuts from training sessions that got a little out of hand.  Speaking of which…Doctor Jennifer Keller, Atlantis’ Chief Medical Officer, looks over at Ronon Dex, now wearing white patient scrubs, still staring straight ahead of himself, stewing in his medical bed a short distance away, then she returns to looking back at her computer screen at her pub height rolling metal table that she uses as her desk.  Her computer’s screen has two windows on it:  a digital copy of the x-ray of Ronon’s wrist and the security camera footage from the training room.  It’s unusual for her to have security footage on her computer, but she thinks her explanation requires it.  She points to the x-ray.

“This is the damage done to Ronon’s wrist.  It’s broken here, here, and here.  He won’t be able to use it for a few weeks.”

Ronon, with a bandage stretching round and round from the bottom of his chin, up one cheek, over the top of his head, down his other cheek, and looping under his chin and heading up again, shifts his casted and slung arm a little.  His pride is still a little sore.  And he’s mindful of his injured knee propped up on a trio of fluffy pillows.  Even while moving, as few and slight as the movements are, he makes sure to keep his blankets up over his midriff…to keep the giant bag of ice in between his legs successfully and thoroughly hidden from view.

It’s a sad sight, John Sheppard returns his attention to Keller’s computer as well.  He leans over Jennifer’s shoulder, puts a hand on the top of her desk beside her arms, and stares at her screen too.  Rodney speaks up from just behind and on the other side of his girlfriend’s tall stool.

“So she broke his wrist,” he says.

Keller shakes her head, “No.”

“What do you mean,” Sheppard asks.

Jennifer brings the security footage window to the foreground and lets it play, picking up from where she had paused it just after the moment of Sheppard’s final loss.  He had had to swallow down his own pride for that one.  The training room’s door opens, Ronon, wearing a dark brown, textured linen, sleeveless, V-neck shirt with dark brown leather trim and strips for a collar complemented by large, dark orange, yarn stitching and a frayed bottom hem, and a pair of greenish brown cotton pants with old brass button and buckle closures, and a pair of brown boots, takes one look at Kenmore and Sheppard, and his attack begins.  Keller pauses the footage at the moment when Kenmore’s bantos rod shatters against Ronon’s wrist.

She points, “There.  Look at that.”

“What,” Rodney leans in, “She’s breaking his wrist.”

“No actually,” Jennifer looks over at her boyfriend, “she’s not.”

Jennifer zooms in on the rod and wrist area.  As soon as the pixels adjust to the appropriate refinement, she points at the angle of Kenmore’s wrist, “Look at that.  Look at how she’s holding the stick.”

Teyla, almost at the end of Keller’s desk, peers in from Rodney’s right, “She is holding it incorrectly,” she announces.

“She’s holding it with resistance,” Keller corrects.

Sheppard and Teyla re-examine the image.  Low and behold, Doctor Jennifer Keller is right.  Kenmore’s hand is gripping the rod seemingly somewhat loosely, but it’s deceptive at first appearance.  Her fingers are pink with the strength of the grip, just barely on the peak of turning white; she was holding back…again.  But Ronon’s wrist…it gives all the blunt first appearance of exactly what he was intending to do.  Just exactly how Ronon is on first appearance.  His wound tight fist is all searing white knuckles as it attempted to plow right through to Kenmore.  Her blow, a defensive use of her rod, and it’s halting just before the point of contact only served to take his velocity down a peg or two.  What really saved her the hit was the time she had saved slowing him slightly enough allowing her to be able to send in her other strike Sheppard remembered her making in that moment.

“You mean he broke his own wrist?”  Sheppard says.

Jennifer nods, “Yes.  She dislocated his knee and his jaw, we’ve reset both, and…,” she trails off considerately and turns her chair to look back at Ronon still brooding in his own little world of fury at the Lieutenant, they all turn to look at him, “But he broke his own wrist.”

There’s a moment of observant silence.  Then Richard Woolsey, the Atlantis Expedition’s leader, closing out the rest of the little assembly taking up the same sort of position Teyla had, except on Keller’s left side, looks down the line at the doctor.

“I think we better keep those two apart for the time being,” he tells her.

Keller nods.  He looks over at Sheppard, whose eyes were already waiting there to meet his commander’s, Sheppard nods.  And having the acknowledgments of his two primary officers in this situation, Richard Woolsey leaves the Infirmary.  With Woolsey gone…

“His wrist is broken and all he can do is hobble around here in pain at best.  What the hell does he expect him to do to her,” Rodney complains.

They look back at their bedridden friend again.  They don’t know, but they’re sure Ronon’ll find a way.

*                      *                      *

The room is tall, with an extraordinary cathedral ceiling.  Its basic ceiling has become known as sort of an ornament of the space, there are no triangular shaped glowing ceiling tiles.  It’s not tiled at all, just the same sort of turquoise patina coloring as most of the walls in the Lost City of the Ancients.  Large, elegant, simple copper anchor lights dangle from the ceiling by long poles, illuminating the 900 plus square foot windowless rectangular room more than adequately.  When the Expedition personnel first stepped foot in Atlantis, this room, adjoining the common area they’d found and dubbed the mess hall, was devoid of anything.  No storage units, no means of cooking any food.  Oh there had been heating units discovered here, but they were not meant to be used for preparing food, but the people of the Expedition had found a way of attaching the equipment they had brought with them and later the more heavy duty equipment that the Daedalus had brought them in order to cook their food.  Aside from the industrial ovens and stoves had come a trough-like sink with a steaming unit for cleaning dishes, dishes themselves, massive wheeled metal tables used as kitchen islands, freezing units, refrigeration units, and metal grated shelving units to act as a pantry.  Now many people didn’t know that this room had never been a kitchen, or at least not one the Ancients had ever used.  It was believed that that room had been removed of all its equipment and was closer to the central tower.  There was another common area, far less beautiful than the mess hall area the Expedition uses, with another adjoining room; both far smaller than the locations the Expedition had designated.  And that other common area and adjoining room are now believed to have been the Ancients’ original cafeteria and kitchen.  But they’re far too small to accommodate the amount of people currently residing in the city.  Making many of the anthropologists and archeologists of the science departments come to the conclusion that although Atlantis was perhaps built to house a great many people, she was not actually meant to.

Teyla Emmagan, the five-foot four-inch tall, shoulder length straight amber banged and haired, espresso-eyed, and tan skinned leader of the Athosian people and friend and member of the Atlantis Expedition let alone a resident of the city for a little into six years now, steps into the entrance to the kitchens of Atlantis’ Mess Hall, or at least the massive room the Expedition’s scientists and researchers believed to be the city’s original ‘town hall’ meeting area before the Ancients’ evacuation at the end of their war with the Wraith and the city’s siege during.  Silently she watches Lieutenant Ursula Kenmore work for a moment at one of the cleaning basins, washing a large bowl.  The Lieutenant, still wearing the same green BDU uniform pants, black combat boots, and black t-shirt, and green BDU uniform shirt, unbuttoned and left to hang open on her, as she had been this morning, rinses the metal dish then sets it up to dry for a moment next to the large trough-like cleaning basin.  Then the Lieutenant turns around, walks over to the large central island that the Expedition members had placed in the middle of the room, grabs an armful of dishes from its surface, returns to the basin, dumps them in, and begins to wash those as well.  While she’s cleaning a shiny metal measuring cup, Kenmore looks over at Teyla, and it suddenly dawns on Teyla that she has never seen the Lieutenant’s long hair down before.

“I’ll be finished in a moment then the place is all yours.”  Kenmore goes back to her cleaning.

Teyla mildly acknowledges her in silence.  The Athosian woman had thought about shaking her head and telling the Lieutenant that she did not require this place, and that is true, but she does require the Lieutenant.

Kenmore continues cleaning and the sweet smell that had enticed Teyla’s nostrils from the end of the hallway outside gain in strength and salivating intensity.  Whatever the Lieutenant had made in here, it is gloriously enticing…but Teyla has other concerns and channels her idling thoughts back to their original focus.

“So has Sheppard called off his guard dogs yet,” Kenmore asks.

For a moment Teyla is not catching on, Kenmore looks over at her again and sees the fleeting moment of confusion.  She elaborates before Teyla can respond…

“Michaels and Artemenko, are they still out there?”

Teyla nods her understanding, “Yes, Sergeant Michaels and Lieutenant Artemenko were still out there, but I have sent them away.”  Some things are meant to be talked of in private.

Kenmore nods.  “Oh,” she says going back to her cleaning again.

A beat passes.

“Are you cooking something,” Teyla asks.

Kenmore looks at her with for once, and something Teyla had never seen from her before, a smile genuinely and kindly meant.  Teyla wanted to respond with her own kind smile.

“Yeah, peach pie made from scratch.  It’s just about done.  Would you like some?”

Teyla nods and moves into the room, to the island as Lieutenant Kenmore abandons the second large bowl she had been wiping with a foamy blue sponge and takes up a thick white towel from the counter top beside her.  That would be helpful to her, Teyla had often found in her many years among her own people as a trader that the breaking of bread or sharing of meals was a great, as many of the people of Earth called it, ‘ice breaker’.  She hoped it would prove so here.

Kenmore walks over to one of the ovens that the Expedition had brought with them from Earth lining the far kitchen wall from the wall’s top to its bottom.  The Lieutenant pulls it open and the billow of hot air and scent floods the room.  Teyla’s nose leads her to try and peer at what the Lieutenant is doing.  Kenmore bends down and, using the thick white towel folded lengthwise as a barrier between her hands and the hot pan, retrieves the steaming hot pie from the oven.  Very carefully, Kenmore brings it over to the island and sets the golden-crusted, heavenly smelling item down in front of Teyla on another already folded towel as the Athosian gets herself settled on one of the stools stationed at the island.  Teyla’s eyes widened at the sight and she cannot control her mouth’s watering now.  Kenmore looks around the kitchen until she sees the metal shelving unit holding plates and forks.  She gets a couple of the plates and forks along with a knife and an ice cream scoop.  The Lieutenant sets them on the island beside the pie then goes to the stainless steel mobile freezer, opens it, reaches in, and comes out with a small unmarked cylindrical container of something.  She returns to the kitchen island.

“It smells wonderful,” Teyla tells her.

“Thanks.”

Kenmore takes the odd wide and narrow triangle-shaped bladed knife, turns it on its side, and cuts into the pie then she slips the triangle blade in between two of the cuts she’s made, lifts, and slides out a slice of pie.  Teyla watches eagerly as the Lieutenant deposits the slice of two layers of luscious crust sandwiching a syrupy, gooey thick center of wedges of golden fruit whose center edges seem to be colored an extraordinary shade of deep purple-red on the plate Teyla is holding up to meet it.  As Teyla lowers her plate back down to the island’s stainless steel top, Kenmore dishes up a slice for herself then pops open the cylinder to reveal its contents of vanilla ice cream, one of Teyla’s favorites, frozen solid to the container’s brim.  Kenmore takes up the ice cream scoop, she looks at Teyla.

“I like a scoop of ice cream with mine.  Do you want one too,” Kenmore offers.

Teyla nods through a happy and hot mouthful of the golden food that she had already quickly stuffed into her mouth, to which her first thought had been Hot, hot, hot.

“Do you want it on top or on the side,” Kenmore asks.

Teyla does not know, she had never had anything like this before.  The Expedition’s pies do not taste anywhere near this good and it usually only every served it’s ice cream in these small little cups that came with these very odd little thin pieces of wood cut in the shape of a spoon’s head’s silhouette, she supposed it was a spoon, the Earth personnel treated it like a spoon at least.  Uncertain, the Athosian gives a sort of confused shrug.  Kenmore opts to put a scoop of ice cream on the side as she did with her own scoop of the cold creamy stuff.  Then sets the cylinder and ice cream scoop off to the side, sits down on her own stool beside Teyla, and picks up a fork.  Teyla finally manages to swallow her first bite of homemade peach pie.

“It’s delicious,” she commends.

Kenmore smiles, sort of sheepishly, “Sorry, Michael isn’t due back from school for about nine more hours.  I, uh…I don’t know what to do with myself when he’s not here.”

Teyla starts nodding, “I understand.  I often feel the same when my own son and his father are away visiting our people and I cannot go with them…be with them.”

“Do you cook when they’re gone too?”

Teyla laughs a little and smiles remembering Charin and their conversation over a bowl of tuttleroot soup.  It was not a conversations Teyla wanted to have with the old friend of her mother’s who had also, in Teyla’s mothers loss during a Wraith culling, become another mother to then orphaned Teyla.  The old woman had been ailing at the time and Teyla had managed to convince the city’s chief doctor at the time, Carson, to come see Charin in her hut in the Athosian settlement on the Lantean main land.  And while Carson was took a sample of Charin’s blood, Teyla informed her second mother that she had made tuttleroot soup for her.  Teyla also informed Charin that she had been practicing in hopes of improving her extremely lacking cooking skills.  And that was true, Teyla, ever since discovering how deeply Charin was ailing, had been practicing day and night in these kitchens as well as in her own modest hut in the settlement as much and often as she could till she felt comfortable enough with her soup to offer it to Charin.  The Expedition’s chef had tiredly reprimanded Teyla for her using the kitchens all throughout the night without someone else there with her in case she hurt herself, but Teyla had not cared, she was practicing for Charin…her Charin…the last remnant of her mother left to Teyla.  At Teyla’s offer, Charin had joked about the notion of Teyla cooking.  And when Teyla feed the ailing Charin a modest spoonful of the soup, Charin had laughed that Teyla’s hope of a day when she made the soup as well as Charin did would be a day well into Teyla’s future.  Both Carson and Charin shared a laugh at the joke while Teyla took it good naturedly enough, but feeling a personal sadness and anguish at not being able to cook at least a soup well enough for her dear Charin…Teyla plays with a wedge of peach that has fallen loose from her slice of pie.

“I believe that my family and my friends are happy that I do not,” Teyla tells her.

Kenmore smiles and gives a little laugh of her own, reminding Teyla even more of that moment with Charin, “Ah, not so good with the cooking, eh?”

Teyla shakes her head, still smiling at the bittersweet memory of the teasing, Charin passed away less than a few days later, “No, I am not.”

“Neither is my sister.  She always took the directions for the recipes as more of suggestions then actual directions on how the food is made.”

“You have a sister?”

“Yeah.  Older.”

Teyla considers this as she continues to play with the loose piece of peach.  She had secretly always dreamed of having a sister, older or younger than she regardless.  Even when running from the potential of the Asgard following them on that return to Athosia from the Asgard outpost, she had been thinking about family.  It was something she used to do in those moments as a child when running from a Wraith culling with her father and mother, then her mother, then just herself and Charin…she wished there was another family member running with them.  A sister perhaps.  Someone her own age or close to it to be with if ever the Wraith should manage to take one of her parents…or both…or Charin…and Teyla used to think that the Wraith had.  But since the Lieutenant and Jennifer’s discovery of her father’s remains, Teyla now knew that the Wraith only took her mother, Tagan Emmagan, while the Asgard had taken her father, Torren.  Either way, Teyla is still an orphan in this galaxy…like so many other children here, so many of the adults.  It’s something she fears about for her son, Torren John Emmagan.  Perhaps not the Wraith taking either she or Kanaan, but it is a daily chance on missions let alone in the city itself that Torren may go to bed one night without either one or both of his parents.  It’s a common fear that keeps Teyla up at night lying beside Kanaan or in his arms wrapped around her, staring at the walls of their quarters…it’s ceiling…it’s windows.  She finds it hard to breath those nights.  Her mind wonders, jumps, from terrifying thought to terrifying thought.

Since Torren’s birth, since she found out she was carrying him, so many things frighten her.  So many.  And ideas were starting to come to her along with the fears.  Born of them she is afraid to think.  She had hoped when one of the ideas came to her that it might be due out of some other reason, but now it seems that it might be fear.  The journey begins, were Charin’s last words to Teyla.  At the time Teyla had taken that as a reference to the song to be sung over the body during the Ring Ceremony, but now she believes that it was Charin’s way of telling Teyla to conquer her fears.  After all it was Charin who had pointed out to Teyla that death, especially a death of natural causes free of the Wraith, was not something to be feared.  And here Teyla is.  Afraid of death.  With Teyla going out on missions with her team and Kanaan working here in the city, so many things could go wrong for either of them.  Teyla could be captured by the Wraith, killed by the Genii, or come to harm some other unforeseen yet not unfamiliar way.  A wayward thorn of a poisonous plant could prick Kanaan or scratch him and he might be lost…Teyla’s mind quickly darts away from those old demons, those fears, those haunts…Always running, always looking to the sky in fear…

“And has your sister’s cooking improved,” Teyla asks.

“No,” Kenmore answers bluntly, “she married rich, very rich.  Now she has somebody else cook for her.”

An awkward silence falls between them as Kenmore takes up playing with her own piece of pie with her fork.  Her own smile is gone now, replaced by something Teyla suspects is not a happy remembrance.  Teyla feels her own discomfort rise at the sight and she too continues playing with her food until she feels it is a prudent time to give her reason for coming here…this is not to be feared…Her reason for coming to the Lieutenant specifically…

“How do you do it,” Teyla asks.

Kenmore looks at her funny, “I pay attention to the directions in the recipe.”

“No,” Teyla says soberly, still focusing on playing with the remnants of her pie slice, “I mean how do you go through the Stargate knowing you leave your son behind…and that one day that may become permanent?”

Teyla’s eyes finally lock with the Lieutenant’s.  It is a tense moment, but not a hostile one.

“It’s pretty easy actually.  I simply don’t want my son to ever be in a cage.  I picture him in one and then try as hard as possible to keep that image as far away from becoming true as I can,” Ursula pauses.  “I understand that the Wraith holding cells look an awful lot like cages and the smaller ones, they’re more like webs.”

Teyla nods.  She has encountered more of either than any human in the Pegasus Galaxy should ever have to in their lifetime, perhaps more lifetimes than any human can live even in the Lieutenant’s own home Milky Way Galaxy.

“Then I’m in the right place then, huh,” Ursula says and finally takes a bite of pie.

Teyla does not.

“How can you do it knowing that if you do not return through the Stargate, he will be left with no one?”  Teyla knows the Lieutenant is sensitive about the loss of her husband, but Teyla needs to know this.  To understand it.  She needs this…the journey begins…

“I just know that no matter what, I’m his mother and no matter what, no matter who, no one can protect him as good as I can.  I am the only person that can protect him as much as I know he needs to be protected.  So I keep those cages away from him.  And if I have to die in the process, then I’ll take as many of them with me as I can.  No one’s going to stop me from protecting my son.  No one.”

They poke at their slices for a few more moments in silence.  Teyla muses over the Lieutenant’s words and finds she believes the other woman is right.  Teyla does believe that no one can protect Torren as well as she can, not even his own father…but Teyla also realizes that it is a very lonely thought.  And that Kanaan would rather die, would rather hand himself over to the Wraith personally, would rather return to being a hybrid at the hands of Wraith hybrid Michael again than ever let Torren come to harm.  Late at night, in their bed, especially after those terrifying thoughts have plagued her into exhaustion, it is a piece of knowledge that comforts Teyla, makes her roll over in the bed and wrap her arms around the warmth of Kanaan.  Hold him closer to her and finally close her eyes and sleep somewhat peacefully…but the Lieutenant does not have that.  Her husband, her life partner is gone.  According to what she has said before, the Lieutenant views her empty bed as a fear she cannot get away from.  But must come to terms with or her body passes out from exhaustion.

Teyla drags the tips of the prongs of her fork through the puddle of her melting ice cream.  Some of her own old fears resurface again…

“Is it…easy,” she asks tentatively, not looking up.

“No,” Kenmore answers bluntly.

That does not make Teyla feel better.  One of the overwhelming fears she had had when she was pregnant with Torren was that she would be someone standing and looking down at a cold, empty bed while her son slept soundly nearby.  Her fear of being alone with Torren had been great…and yet she had told no one of it.  Not Jennifer, whom she had become extremely close to during that time, mostly because of the circumstances they had found each other in when they had discovered that the Athosians had been taken and, later, that Kanaan and Teyla’s union had created Torren.  And not Samantha Carter, whom she had likewise become close to let alone because of Samantha’s role in Atlantis as the Expedition’s then leader but also because when John had found out that Teyla was pregnant, he had removed Teyla from his team as well as any other duties or responsibilities in Atlantis, rendering her an inactive member.  Alone and left to roam the city with nothing to do, she often found herself wandering into Samantha’s office and talking with her.  She knew that Samantha sensed that she was lonely, but it was more than that, Teyla was frightened and wanted someone to tell her everything was going to be okay and she trusted Samantha to do that.  For someone to somehow understand every feeling she was having and even then tell her that all would be well…it was what Kanaan would normally do in that sort of a situation…she would have confided everything to Kanaan.

“But, I know Woolsey wouldn’t stand a chance against my son’s Godfather,” Kenmore says, “Not a prayer.”

Teyla smiles, when she was pregnant and Kanaan as well as the rest of her people had gone missing, John had told her something similar.  You have to understand.  Your child has a family here, in case anything ever happens.  It had a been a nice sentiment from him, a nice sort of an apology for removing Teyla from the team, but although John could say he understood, that he could empathize with what she was going through…in truth, he could not.  Did not.  Even telling her about a friend of his from college, it was not anything near what Teyla had been dealing with at the time.  She had taken the statement for what it had been worth back then, which was considerable to her in her distress, but it was still not enough.  And now that she is here with Lieutenant Kenmore, the only other woman in the whole of the city to be raising her child here in the city with her and to be doing so without a life partner to help…the very notion terrifies Teyla to her very core.  Even now.  But hearing the woman express the same sentiments John had reported his friend having, it is something.  Yes, it is something.  It is still not enough, but it is something more than was there before.

With less tension than previously, they return to eating their pie and ice cream; although Teyla is now realizing that her favorite frozen Earth treat is now a warm puddle surrounding the crusty remnants of her slice of peach pie.  As Kenmore lowers her head to receive her dripping upcoming bite, the wall—no, the space in front of the wall opposite her—suddenly distorts as though something is trying to suck it back through a vacuum.  She gasps.  Her dropped fork clangs on her plate.  Teyla instantly tenses.

“What is it,” she asks.

Kenmore keeps staring in front of her.  But nothing’s happening.  It’s like as soon as Kenmore noticed the distortion and chose to look it head on, it vanished.  But Kenmore has learned in her long time at the SGC that that is simply not what happens.

“You didn’t see that,” Kenmore asks, “Didn’t you see that?”

“No, what?”  Teyla looks around.  Waiting for whatever Lieutenant Kenmore had seen to reveal itself to her.

Kenmore immediately reaches up and presses her earpiece, “Lieutenant Kenmore to the Command Center.”

A technician’s voice comes over the communication device’s line, “Command Center here, Lieutenant, what do you need?”

“There’s an intruder in Atlantis,” she announces.

Without another word, Kenmore bolts out of the room.  Teyla follows her.  Abandoning their meal together…and the rest of its conversation yet to be had.

Posted in Season Six- Episode Four | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Episode Four- Veritas- Chapter One

Chapter One

Morning light always saturated this particular room in Atlantis, it was because of the one large window taking up half of one of the odd shaped room’s walls.  The Expedition’s training room is one of the most used in the entire city.  Its floor is the shiniest of all those in the city, its rust-colored marble much deeper a hue than any other, practically brown.  And instead of being bisected by two-inch wide strips of silver to form geometric shapes all over the floor, it’s bisected by strips of the same rust-colored marble that’s every place else in the city, lighter than the brown.  To one side of the room are a short flight of stairs that lead to a balcony area that the Expedition kept eternally blocked off by a gridded screen of thin white plastic so nimble it acted like a curtain.  The ‘chiclet’ floor to ceiling wall sconces line the walls every three inches or so, practically covering every inch of the walls.  At some points the sconces are side by side, not a speck of wall to be seen between them.  The large window doesn’t have a Frank Lloyd Wright-like design the way the others do in Atlantis, it’s has the same autumnal colors but it’s design is reminiscent of that of a piano’s keyboard.  Its door is one of the few in Atlantis that is all glass and is one of the most ornately designed of the stained glass in the city.  Again a Frank Lloyd Wright-ish design but with a brilliant tapestry of a rainbow’s worth of colors.  It’s a nice contrast to the walls themselves, the walls being turquoise and their moldings and trims being a copper color like the rest of the city’s walls.  On usual days the textured and copper-colored bench underneath the sole window is covered by gym duffel bags or white towels or squeeze water bottles for drinking or any other items found in a gym when someone or someones are working out, today the bench is empty…but the room is not.

The clacks of the weaponry connecting are familiar in this area although the sparring pair is not.  Lieutenant-Colonel John Sheppard drops one of his knees low to the floor making a fluid low blow that Lieutenant Ursula Kenmore just as fluidly blocks without lowering either of her knees, let alone bending either of them.  John glances up at her for a moment before returning his eyes to the path of the black and white, ornately carved wooden bantos rods in her hands.  Even though he knows not to, that it’s a serious tactical flaw, he has been intentionally avoiding her eyes.  Although she keeps hers very intently trained on his.  It is disconcerting…her eyes are disconcerting.  They’re intense.  And worse yet, she’s good at this.

John parries her, breaking their bantos rods connection once more and allowing the two soldiers to slowly circle each other once again.  John spins one of his twenty-eight-inch long rods in his hand, up beside his shoulder blade, and the other he keeps steady and at the ready.  Kenmore simply eyes him.  Both rods in what Teyla Emmagan, Atlantis’ resident expert on this sort of fighting, would have informed her was insufficient to either properly defend herself from attack let alone launch one of her own, but which Kenmore was proving would be the wrong conclusion.

John watches the floor ahead of him as he walks his circular path.  She’s waiting.  Another hard part for him.  Kenmore was making him pitch most of the attacks to her.  They had walked this circle for twenty minutes before John finally got so fed up with the lack of competition that he lunged at her with a strike to the midriff.  Which she blocked easily and made a strike to his head that he barely managed to block in time himself.  Now he’s regretting this.  He had originally meant this to be a test to let him see her skill level and also to teach her a bit of a lesson, him thinking he was going to be better at this than he thought she was going to be.

CLACK!—but he’s wrong.  It’s going on an hour and a half now and he is wrong.  CLACK!…CLACK!  CLACK!  CLACK!—Dammit, John thought he had her that time but her wrists moved practicedly and fluidly and made it look like her rods simply bounced off his and moved quickly to counter the other attacks he was leveling at various parts of her body.

This isn’t fair.  She isn’t supposed to know this crap…And she didn’t.  John knows that.  Her posture is all wrong for this and half the time she isn’t even holding onto the rods right, something Teyla had beaten out of John numerous times their first few sparring sessions together, basically was their first few sparring sessions together.  But Kenmore’s blocking every move he makes which is leaving him trying to remember some of the more complicated moves Teyla had taught him over the years…and a few he’d picked up from Ronon over the years as well.

CLACK!…CLACK!  CLACK!…CLACK!  CLACK!  CLACK!  Nope, she still managed to cut off his every attack…CLACK!  CLACK!  She parries, turning away from him, and letting her arm fluidly continue the turn and make a blind strike at his head.  He blocks as the rest of her body finally completes the turn with a strike aimed at his knees.  He blocks that one too, she lets her rod bounce off his and swing sideways still aimed at the same area of his knees just coming at them from the other side.  He lowers himself to block her new attack and she swings her other rod back around.  He just catches sight of it coming out of the corner of his eye.  John swings up and over his free rod, but it’s just a hair too late.  His rod blocks the blow for the most part, but his block is a little choked and the one-inch diameter tip of her rod extends beyond the stop.  It taps against his cheek.  The blow is gentle.  But it still stings like hell.  Like a pinprick.

John feels his anger spike as Kenmore maintains the same cool composure she’s kept the entire time as she backs away from him.  Retreating to the radius of the invisible circular path they’ve established between each other and letting John get up and stew in let alone the pain of his most likely now bruised cheek but also the pain of his definitely bruised ego.

This is not going as he’d planned.  John knows that it’s going to bruise and he won’t have to wait till the morning probably to see it.  He remembered when Teyla had made a spinning strike behind her aimed at the back of his knees, John had dipped and tried to dodge the blow but ultimately failed, and Teyla ended up slapping him across the butt with one of her rods.  It had been John’s fault and he suffered through the humiliation and embarrassment of the Expedition’s then Chief Medical Officer Doctor Carson Beckett handing him a soft cushy doughnut to sit on for a few weeks.  Bright ass—bright pink no less.  Pepto-Bismol.  Bubble gum.

And that’s another thing ratcheting up his irritation and humiliation.  He knows these things being used at full force and full velocity can break—shatter—someone’s cheek bone with a hit like that, blocked as half-assed as it had been.  But all he’s getting out of this is a bruise.  She’s taking it easy on him and he knows it.  God dammit, he knows it.

John spins one of his bantos rods loosely in his hand, loosening up his wrist.  Then this buzzing sound comes to his ear.  He’d heard it before when they first got in here.  He had handed the Lieutenant a pair of bantos rods and told her what they were called, to which she had said “Sticks, got it.”  He’d repeated their name and she had stared at him and said again, only more slowly, “Sticks, got it.”  John had stared at her, she’d stared back complete with an array of facial expressions that made it clear that she could care less what they were accurately called and he would be in a losing battle over this.  John had given up with a frustrated sigh and turned his back on her…then he heard the buzz sound and turned back to look at her.  He didn’t need to glance over at Kenmore now to see her spinning one of her rods so fast it reminded him of the spinning boomerang scene in the second Crocodile Dundee movie.  She even has the same pacing in her spins as Dundee had.  A fast buzz for a few spins then slower for a few spins then fast again then slower again then fast.  It should have been John’s first clue that this was not going to go his way.  Was John’s first clue.

He lunges across to her, making an irritated more than calculated swing at her head.  She really doesn’t even have to move to block it, but she does.  CLACK!  John retreats and she lets him go.

Okay that didn’t help his temper any.  Okay, last chance.  John works his rods around, loosening up his wrists even further.  He’s going to need the flexibility to try this next move.  It’s usually a hand-to-hand exchange Teyla taught people, a technique specifically meant to be used to dodge a Wraith feeding attack.  In fact, it’s a linked chain of movements she had taught Wraith Hybrid Michael at the end of which Ronon walked in on Michael finally getting it right and pinning Teyla to the ground resulting in Ronon throwing Michael up against the far wall by Michael’s throat.  John takes a shallow breath…blows it out…and goes for it.

CLACK!…CLACK!  CLACK!  CLACK!…CLACK!  CLACK!…CLACK!  Kenmore easily slides under John’s finally blow, again successfully blocked by her, and draws her free stick with her.  Dragging it across his gut then sliding the other rod over during his moment of stall and bringing the ornately carved white and black wood up against his throat.  Out of breath and his knees halfway to the floor, his eyes look up at her…

“Evisceration, decapitation.  Instant kills.  Point one and two for me.  Reset.  Go.”

Her breathing is measured and she’s still calm.  Her eyes still intent.  Focused on his eyes.  Damn.

The door to the room opens behind her and Ronon walks in.  His reaction to the moment is instantaneous.  Just as it had been with Michael and Teyla.  Before Sheppard can say anything, the Satedan’s face contorts in seething rage and he literally makes a running lunge at Kenmore’s back.  Like she has second sight, the Lieutenant turns towards the Satedan, bringing one of her sticks with her.  John hears the distinct crack of bone as the bantos rod shatters against Ronon’s wrist.  Ronon brings up his free wrist with a roar and it makes a glancing connection with Kenmore’s nose.  She brings to bare her other stick with a roar of her own to the side of his knee.  The stick shatters.  Left with nothing else.  The melee quickly descends to a clash before John can even straighten up.

Kenmore lets the top of her body fall back as Ronon cocks his injured fist back.  She bends backward, plants her hands back on the floor on either side of her head, and flings the rest of her body out to follow.  She has definitely done that before.  Her boots come together and kick up.  Ronon expertly flings his head back, avoiding her boot’s upward movement.  But quicker still, the rest of her body solidly recoils against her firmly planted top half and springs back out, propelling her whole body off the floor.  Her feet plant back on the ground, the rest of her body lowers down into a squat, and starts to come back up as Ronon’s head starts to come back down.  Almost before he can realize it, John sees that one of her fists is slightly trailing the other but coming up on its twin fast.  His eyes go wide and he yells…

“Ronon!”

Kenmore’s faster moving fist slams into Ronon’s downward coming jaw using both her upward velocity and the gravity of Ronon’s head coming back to its normal position to let the deft uppercut sink in.  She’s not holding back anymore.  John hears a distinct pop.  Ronon’s head flies back as Kenmore’s fist continues its upward trajectory.  As Ronon staggers back, John plunges into the fray but Kenmore, once again it’s like she’s got second sight, knows he’s coming at her back.  She turns her head, reaches out, and kicks.  She grabs the rod John had tried to swing at her as John’s gut slams into her boot.  He staggers back.  Leaving the stick in her hand.  She crouches down waiting for his next move.  Ronon’s recovered though.  He comes in with his signature finishing move.  The dreadlocked juggernaught jumps into the air.  Cocks back his fist in mid-air as he comes up on Kenmore.  She looks back up at him.

She turns as he comes down.  Her fist wrapped around John’s bantos rod goes up to meet Ronon’s fist coming down.  Her fist is simply guiding his own fist down though, carefully avoiding herself as her body still rises up to meet the rest of him.  John notices one leg comes up with her and disappears into the shadows between the two combatants.  Ronon comes down against Kenmore as her knee comes up and crunches horribly into his groin.  The Satedan’s eyes bulge.  There’s silence.  John stares at Ronon’s face, clear over Kenmore’s shoulder.  His prone fist extended far beyond her other side.  It’s like his friend’s frozen in time.

Slowly Kenmore lowers her leg back to the floor.  She reaches in between her and Ronon with her free hand and slowly pushes him back.  He moves as one whole frozen unit away from her and falls back on the ground.  John’s astonished at the sight of Ronon Dex curled up on the floor of the training room with his uninjured hand between his legs.  Kenmore stares down at the Satedan.  Then with a wrathful roar, she lifts up her arm with the bantos rod still in her hand.  John sees light reflect off the exposed bottom inch-diameter of the weapon.  He yells as she starts to come down…

“Kenmore!”

The door opens again for a couple of soldiers, Doctor Rodney McKay, Teyla, and Major Evan Lorne…

“Jaffa kree,” Lorne orders loudly.

With barely an inch separating the tip of Ronon’s nose from the sharp edge of the bantos rod, Kenmore immediately angles her descent and turns the weapon away.  After three tight, fast spins away from Ronon, she comes to stop facing towards Sheppard.  Her head is down, she’s kneeling, and the fist and weapon are prone before her and land on the ground in utterless silence.

Only now do the signs of her physical exertions show themselves, she’s panting and her hairline is only now starting to dampen with the first indications of sweat.  Her hand slowly releases the stick to the floor and leaves it there like a peaceable offering.  Slowly she comes up off her knee and stands straight.  A solid elegant movement.  Her head comes up and she looks back at Lorne and the others’ shocked faces.  Still intent, still calm.  Evan nods at her.  She tilts her head slightly and nods back.  Wait, John knows that movement, recognizes it…

“Teal’c taught you, didn’t he,” Sheppard finally asks.

Kenmore looks over at him, “You know any other Jaffa?”

Sheppard doesn’t respond.

“Yes,” she answers, “as well as Master Bra’tac, but they didn’t teach me everything they knew.  That last one was actually something I picked up and tweaked a little from an Animé I used to watch.”

Sheppard comes out of his braced stance as Kenmore looks over at Ronon while the other soldiers try to administer the beginnings of medical attention to him.  But Ronon growls them away.

“What happened,” Lorne asks, “We received reports of yelling.”

Sheppard comes up to Kenmore’s side and the two walk within a step or two of Ronon.

“Kenmore and I were sparring.  Ronon came in at a bad moment.”

Teyla stares slack jawed and Rodney’s eyes are bulging at the sight more than Ronon’s eyes were in pain.  They’re all trying to spare what’s left of their friend’s dignity by not actually looking at him, even the other soldiers are too.  Although John figures that had more to do with that they didn’t want Ronon to hunt them down and kill them later rather than any actual bonds of friendship.  But Kenmore holds no such regard as she stares down at Ronon.  Suddenly she points at the prone man.

“He’s twitching,” she looks over at Sheppard, “Does that mean I can go now?”

Sheppard begrudgingly nods.  Kenmore shrugs it off.

“Okay,” she says.

The Lieutenant walks out past Teyla and turns out of sight down the right hand corridor.  Sheppard looks to the two spare soldiers, they catch his eye, and he nods at them.  They nod back, get off their knees, and head down the corridor after Kenmore.  After a moment the remaining group hear her exasperated voice coming from down the corridor…

Oh my God!  Seriously!  I do not need an armed escort!  I’m not going to hurt anyone!  I don’t have any of those stick thingies anymore!”

John lets the disruption pass away into silence.

“Oh my God,” Rodney finally sputters.

“Let it go Rodney,” John warns.

“Let it go,” McKay exclaims, “She just took out Ronan the Barbarian.”  He gestures down at Ronon still crumpled in the fetal position and starting to shake on the floor.

“She didn’t take me down,” the Satedan gets out awkwardly and with a slush.  His eyes focusing on a distance somewhere in front of his eyes.

“Oh no?  She just walked out of here basically without a scratch on her and you’re lying on the floor clutching what’s left of your manhood.”

Oh great, Sheppard lowers his head and covers his eyes with his hand, as if Ronon wasn’t going to be pissed off enough he got his butt kicked by Kenmore, but now Rodney had pointed it out in front of others.  Gees Rodney, really?  While he’s down on the ground?

“She didn’t take me down,” Ronon repeats.  His deep voice cracking a little like a lisping boy going through puberty.

John now closes his eyes while they’re hidden under his hand, like the man’s voice cracking isn’t proving Rodney’s point even more.

Ronon continues to stare off straight ahead of him, focusing his anger.

Posted in Season Six- Episode Four | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Episode Four- Veritas- Prologue

Prologue

Lieutenant Ursula Kenmore lets her head fall back and from her slack jaw emits a, “Dear God Michael.”

Beside her, Michael Kenmore, the Lieutenant’s five-year old son, trots bouncily.  The small light-skinned, blonde haired, brown-eyed little boy only has about half his heart in the walk, the other half is like any other child…

“I don’t wanna go to school Mom,” he whines.  He only ever called her Mom when he felt she was being unfair, every other time he called her Mommy or Momma.

“It’s not like it’s like school on Earth,” Ursula tells him.

“But—“

“Michael,” Ursula warns.

Michael holds his silence for maybe, maybe a heartbeat…

“But Mom.”

Ursula sighs again.

They follow the curve of the windowless Atlantis hallway they’re walking down, there is stark morning light occasionally shining on them and the walls and the floor.  But it’s only the light coming from the opened doorways of the rooms lining the hallway’s left side, rooms that have a bank of windows taking up almost the entire top half of the room’s farthest two or three walls from its doorway.  The light provides a glaring against the rust-colored marble flooring and the turquoise patina-ed walls trimmed and lined by copper-colored flat, blocky-edged wall trimmings about every four-foot wide section of wall as well as in its corners.  The brightness is eye hurting, but they wouldn’t have to endure it for long as they continue following the hallway’s path further into the heart of the city, a part of the city whose rooms became as windowless as its hallways here are.  As they do, Michael again stumbles to a stop, stalling to reheft the backpack strapped to his back into a more comfortable position.  Knowing full well that the backpack was never going to feel comfortable, he didn’t want to be wearing it.

“Michael, you’re going to school.  No ifs, no ands, no buts, you’re goin’.  Now just behave yourself.”  She says firmly, making it clear to her son that even if he decided to fake sick, his butt is still going to school.  She could understand the hesitation if it were an Earth school, frankly her memories of school until college were the stuff Hell is made of.  Let alone had Dante apparently written about too narrow an area of Hell, he’d sugarcoated it too.  And she remembers the news reports on her television set before she got posted against her will to Atlantis, bullying was no longer the bullying she had experienced as a kid, it’s now the stuff suicides are made of.  It’s not bullying, it’s downright torture, abuse, and harassment now usually ending in much more than a really traumatized crying session in a bedroom alone.  It now ends in God awful child-sized body bags and standard-sized gravestones.  But this isn’t an Earth school…

They finally enter Atlantis’ gateroom.  As soon as their boots set foot on the still rust-colored marble floor tiles, bisected with wide tracks of silver marking the outlines of large wide geometric shapes, of the embarkation floor, Ursula looks up at the Command Center, catches Chuck Campbell’s, the DHD console technician’s, waiting eye and nods at him.  He nods back and immediately begins working his console…and the massive, just shy of twenty-two feet tall Stargate comes to life.  Its inner track begins chasing through lit glyph symbol after glyph symbol.  The first of its Caribbean waters blue chevrons ka-chunks open and clunks closed again, locking the glyph and the chevron into place.  The glyphs begin to rotate again, this time chasing each other in the opposite direction, as Ursula brings her son to the foot of the large room’s grand stairway made of the same rust-colored marble and whose steps are edged with the same silver whose strips decorating the embarkation floor.  Definitely clear of the reaches of the Stargate’s wormhole’s activating kawoosh when it would happen.  Immediately the mother gets on her knees before her son and begins tidying up his appearance, making him presentable.  Straightening up his short-sleeve black Lego STAR WARS t-shirt then the red long-sleeve shirt underneath it.  His medium-colored blue jeans look okay, at least they’re not stained yet…and her son rolls his eyes and sighs.

“But Mom, I don’t want to go to school, I want to stay here in Atlantis—“

Ursula freezes and shoots her son the ‘Mom’ Look.  He rolls his eyes again with a heavy sigh.

The City,” he recites as she and his Uncle ‘Lorie’, Major Evan Lorne, have been drilling into his head to refer to his new home as as they equally have been drilling into his head that it is dangerous to call the Ancient city-ship by her real name anywhere but in the city itself, “with you and Uncle Lorie and everyone else.”

“’Everyone ‘else’ isn’t here,” Ursula goes back to fussing with her son’s shirt collars, trying to make sure that the two line up just right and don’t ruffle her son too much, he’s finicky about the two collars lining up directly over the other and coming up too close to his throat and giving him the feeling of gagging or choking, “Uncle Lorie vouches for this man Halling and his son Jinto and I trust Uncle Lorie.  I also trust Mister Halling and his son, their good people.”

Her son isn’t buying a word of it, he’s still staring past her at the staircase behind her and she can imagine what he’s really thinking, other than his mother is being so unfair.  He has his father’s scientific curiosity and is most likely wondering what the Ancient writing cut into the silver panels and backlit bright brilliant white on the front of the stairway’s steps says…well that would be a question answered another time, but not now.  Maybe Ursula could take a photo of the staircase and pass it along to someone heading back to Earth so that they could give it to Doctor Daniel Jackson, one of Ursula, her late husband, and their son’s dearest friends, another ‘Uncle’ like Lorne.  Not a blood relation but an experience relation.  Maybe Daniel could translate it and send her son some mail from Earth, that would be a nice treat for him.  Mail from their homeworld.  Think of that, ‘homeworld’…And that gets Ursula thinking of another tact she could use to get her son in a better mood to go to school.

“And think of it this way,” her son looks her in the eyes as she finally finishes messing with his clothes, “how many kids get to go to school on an alien planet?”

“Well there is that,” Michael grumbles, still not buying it but buying it just a bit more than he had before.

“Michael, New Athos will be fine.  It’s not anything like pre-school back home was.  I’ll bet it’s not like any school back on Earth.  No other kid will be able to say they had this sort of Kindergarten.”

The seventh chevron locks into place behind Michael’s back and the Stargate activates its coalescing artificial wormhole with a familiar and powerful kawoosh.  Ursula gives a final sigh.  No frustration, nothing but the resolved sigh a mother gives when she knows she finally has to let go of her child and let them enter the classroom.  Although a part of her is feeling that if this actually were Earth, the teacher would have to pry her son out of Ursula’s cold dead hands, and even then the teacher would have a fight on their hands.  Ursula claps her son on his shoulders.

“Be nice, play nice, and remember you manners.  I don’t want to get a call from the Command Center, saying Mister Halling wants to talk to me because he’s sending you back before he has too,” she eyes her son.

After a moment, he nods, equally resolute and frankly depressed about the situation; maybe as depressed as she is but for a different reason, “Yes ma’am.”

And that was another dig at her, whenever Ursula won an argument, or made it blatantly clear her son wasn’t going to win, he resorted to referring to her as Ma’am.  It’s his last ditch effort to needle her into letting him get his way.

“Good,” Ursula leans forward and kisses his forehead, it’s warm and smelling of a combination of his shampoo and the strawberry body wash they both use, then pulls back and brushes the strands of his blonde hair that’s so much like his father’s back and forth into place.  Fussing over him for one last time before having to let him go to school…go through the Stargate for the first time without her.  She understandably chokes up and fights back the shaking she thinks her body might lapse into if she doesn’t.  Ursula stands up and looks down at her son, “Now go to school.”

She turns her son around and walks him up to the Stargate.  Face to face with the undulating surface of the stabilized wormhole’s event horizon, she takes her own moment of anxiety to breathe.  What sort of mother sends her child off to school like this?  What kind?  And the reply comes back fairly quickly in her mind, Every damn mother who has to put her child on a big ass yellow vehicle being driven by someone who ain’t her.

It’s not a good enough reason, especially to herself…but it is a reason.  With another deep sigh that Ursula feels in her bones, she pushes her fingertips against her son’s shoulder blades.  He takes the cue and steps through the gate.  Alone.  By himself.  Ursula waits there.  Knowing full well she’s holding her breath at the surface of this end of a long artificially created tunnel connecting one planet on this end of the Pegasus Galaxy to another Stargate on another planet on the other end of the Pegasus Galaxy.

And in crossing this threshold, her son was immediately demolecularized and transported atom by atom across that tunnel and his molecules were put back together and he exits through the other gate’s own undulating event horizon’s surface…he exits intact…he exits intact…he exits…he exits…What the hell’s taking so long?  Oh God, something’s happened.  Something’s happened to him, and, and…I sent him through the gate and something’s happened to him on the way.  Oh God, oh God, oh my God!…

“Lieutenant Kenmore,” questions the voice that sounds lightly gravelly but so peacefully calm and soothing like praying ‘ohm’ in meditation to the human nerves.

Ursula jams her fingernails accidentally into the skin just in front of her ears in her frantic urgency to activate her earpiece and answer the radio call from, “Mister Halling?”

He makes a sound and Ursula can clearly see the six-foot four, extremely pale man in her mind’s eye, smiling tenderly as he looks down at the soulful earth of the lush forest surrounded trail to the Stargate on his planet before he answers her, “Please, Lieutenant, call me Halling, just Halling.”

She nods, he can’t see her but she just keeps nodding and waiting for him to tell her.  Finally her brain kicks into gear enough for her to make a tight lipped “Mm-hmm” sound hopefully loud enough for the earwig to catch and transmit to the Athosian man.

She can hear him breathe another tender smile at the actions of a nervous mother, “I have your son, he arrived well.”

Ursula lets go of her held breath, it comes out like a gasp and frightened tears brim in her eyes.  She had been so scared that she had made a terrible mistake…

“Momma,” Michael’s voice comes over the radio link then.

“Yes, Baby,” Ursula breathes, her voice quaking with the tears filling up her eyes.  So very scared.

“I bet no one’s ever taken a Stargate to school before,” he sounds like he thinks he is the coolest kid ever.

Ursula beams at the Stargate’s surface and laughs.

“I will have your son back to you just a few hours before the time of Atlantis’s evening meal,” Halling’s voice comes back.

Ursula again nods even though the man can’t see it; okay, so that means he’ll be back at around five.  A nice school day, a nice even school day including afterschool activities.  Okay.  Okay, she’s good with it.  It’s okay.  Again her brain clicks into gear, this time she actually manages to open her mouth, “Okay, that’s okay.  Thank you Mister, uh, Halling, just Halling.”

This time Halling laughs, a beautifully light and airy, wonderful sound.  Ursula actually finds the sound as comforting as her great grandmother’s wind chimes blowing in a breeze by the kitchen’s back door.  It also reminds her of his blue eyes and the way they smile all the time, overflowing with his good nature, “It is alright, Lieutenant.  I as well as my son and our people will guard your son’s life as one of our own.  It is our way…and we owe you a great much.”

Ursula looks down at her combat booted toes.  Halling, as had all the Athosian people, especially Teyla Emmagan, had taken the truth about the Ancient city on their original home planet and the Ancients who ran it very hard.  It’s, as Ursula has come to understand from Evan, a very bitter thing among them, but the people were dealing with it and looked at Ursula now as a great messenger, an “Unveiler of truths.”  Something and someone highly respected among their people.

And it also helped that Ursula had brought back Teyla’s father Torren’s remains to her to be buried among their people.  He was a very admired and respected and well loved man among them.  A noted leader as had been Emmagan’s mother, Tagan.  For that alone really, people treated her like a friend although some suddenly became frightened of both her and especially her son when they heard their names and Ursula’s rank, something Ursula found pricklingly disturbing.  She’d have to ask Evan or Emmagan about that sometime, maybe even Sheppard.

“You folks don’t owe me anything,” she answers quietly, politely.

This time she thinks she can hear Halling nodding even though she can’t see it.

“We must be going.  Old Calla is teaching the children how to wash clothes today.”

Wash clothes,” Ursula can hear her son bemoan in Halling’s background.

Again Halling laughs.  This time its loud and hearty with great mirth and joy, “Yes, yes, wash clothes.”  He repeats after her son.

Ursula grins again, her tears drying.  She can just imagine the look on her son’s face.  I told you I bet it wasn’t like any school on Earth would be.

“Till the morrow, Lieutenant.”

For a moment Ursula’s chest clamps all the way to her throat, but then she remembers that New Athos has a day-night cycle not unlike the Athosian’s original homeworld Athosia, or Athos depending on who you asked it was called, has.  Very, very short either way.  Only about six hours daylight and six hours night.  What passed for one day around here was actually more like two Athosian days and their nights.  She breathes again, restoring calm, and nodding like a blind idiot again, “Yes, Halling, till the morrow.  Have fun at school Michael, Mommy loves you.”

“I love you too Mommy.”

“Byesy-bye Sweetheart.”

“Byesy-bye Mommy.”

Ursula kisses the air, hears Michael kiss back, and…

The Stargate shuts down.  Ursula continues to stand there for a moment, it would be about midnight Athosian time before her son would be back.  Here, he’d be gone about…it’s eight a.m., he’ll be back at five…nine hours.  Suddenly Ursula’s eyes bulge.  Nine hours!

Doctor Rodney McKay, wearing his standard grey Atlantis personnel uniform accented by strip-like panels of dark blue angled over his collar bone indicating his designation via the blue color as part of the Expedition’s science department, walks up to the Lieutenant, eyeing her carefully.  Her eyes have suddenly gone wide and he’s not entirely sure he should be doing this, but he’s stalked her and her son all the way from their quarters, where he’d spent another half hour beforehand listening and waiting for her to leave her room from the end of the hallway, all the way here.  Quietly he inches closer to her…she doesn’t seem to be going off on him yet, he’s not even really sure she knows he’s there yet.  He inches closer…nothing, then he opens his mouth—

“Oh my God,” Kenmore agonizes, throwing her head back and staring up at the far distant ceiling up above her, “Other kids go to school on a bus or in their parents’ cars and mine gets to go to school through a Stargate…on an alien planet…in a different galaxy,” she finishes with a sigh so exhausted she closes her eyes during it.  And it’s a moment before she straightens her head back up and opens her brown eyes.  She looks over at McKay.  “So what can I do for you, Doc?”

He stares at her for a moment, it’s suddenly dawned on him that it’s the first time he’s seen her with her long, naturally curly, brown hair down, then snaps to, he gestures at the screen of his computer tablet in his hands, “I was just writing up my report of our last mission,” Kenmore sighs but it’s nowhere near the ones she’d expressed for her son going offworld without his mother, “and I was wondering if you could help me clear up some things?”

Kenmore turns and immediately starts walking back into the corridors of the Lost City of the Ancients.  Rodney takes that as his cue that it’s okay to follow her, she didn’t say no after all.

They turn the corner and Kenmore goes to the right side of the hallway with Rodney in her wake, following the line of personnel traffic heading from the heart of the city to its outer points or residential areas, beside the flow of oncoming personnel traffic.  At the first opportune moment, McKay shoves his way up to walking beside the Lieutenant.  She doesn’t look like she’s in a particularly talky mood but she still hasn’t actually said ‘No’ so…

“What part of it stuck out to you,” he asks casually.

“The Ancients sold out the Athosians in order to cover their own asses,” she answers bluntly.

Rodney takes it although that wasn’t exactly what he had in mind…

“I sort of meant, what part of the other planets stuck out to you,” he rephrases.

“Which one?”

They go around the bend in the hallway. Traffic gets a little heavier.  Shift change is approaching.  If Kenmore wanted breakfast, considering she was too freaked out about sending her son to school this morning that she didn’t eat anything, couldn’t even look at it, then she better get over to the mess hall.

“Well, any one of them.”  Rodney racks his brains for a place to start or to get Kenmore to starting talking.

There was first of all the planet of Athos itself.  After Teyla had gotten through the Fire ‘Exam,’ before Sheppard and Ronon ripped Kenmore apart alive or at least poked a lot of holes in her via the bullets or blasts of their weapons fire, and Teyla had been transported back to the consoles in that Temple’s main room, she had unlocked the previous recordings of the other Athosians who had passed the exam back when the city/college campus was still in use and being run by Ancients.  Thankfully, there wasn’t enough power in any of the consoles and their components had become so weather and time worn that all the console could do was playbacks not make any more new recordings, pick a person and you got to see their recording, nothing more.  After five recordings at the Fire console, Teyla had apparently made it a personal mission to pass every test in the Temple and she demanded, well, actually ordered Kenmore to take her to each and every one.  And the moment Sheppard tried to step in between Teyla and Kenmore’s lead, Rodney actually feared for the man’s life.  Teyla Emmagan had glared at John Sheppard with such a deep seated fury and anger and, and everything so not the Teyla they know.  And when Teyla actually growled at him to “Get.  Out.  Of.  My.  Way,” John Sheppard did exactly that, very slowly.  Like the way a zebra backs away from a watering hole when it sees the sleek subtle movements of a crocodile swimming the waters right in front of where the zebra was heading to drink.  After that John never got in Teyla’s way the rest of the time on Athos, he never dared to.

After passing all the ‘exams’ and finally opening up the recordings of the Earth element console, sounds came from the back of the main hall.  When they as well as Stackhouse’s team went to investigate, they discovered another Asgard beaming platform and a control console covered in debris and grime hidden in a wall niche.  The sounds must have been the part of the wall that had been hiding the niche console moving away to reveal it.  Rodney had barely managed to get the decrepit console going again, he had to hook up a generator to it and even then the thing had apparently suffered more damage than the other ‘elemental’ consoles.  Even with another generator hooked up to it, all that energy wasn’t enough to do more than barely bring the platform’s circuitry to a dismal glow that kept constantly dimming in and out of existence.  Its operating console wouldn’t glow at all, even with a generator, forcing him to activate what he could out of the platform by his trusty computer tablet.  And when Rodney activated it, it projected a map of Athos’s solar system.  A holographic celestial sphere.  At first sight, at first encounter, it was awe-inspiring…and informative.

The Athosian star system is set up not unlike Earth’s own Sol system, but with fewer planets, even with Pluto being downgraded.  Athos is smack in the middle, relatively speaking of course, its sun is technically in the middle, of the thing, not like Earth though.  Even though, Athos’ day and night are equally timed, their shortness is because of Athos’ incredible fast rotation.  Twice that of Earth’s.  The tilt of the planet is just a tad more than that of Earth’s causing for a slightly longer average fall than Earth sees.  And, according to Kanaan, a slightly harsher winter too, the man told Rodney, when Woolsey had called for a debrief on Athos in which he’d called specifically for Teyla and Kanaan to be there, that the Athosians often relied on Teyla and the other traders to work very hard and make very good trades on the Athosians behalf during those months for their village’s survival.  Both Kanaan and Teyla did say, though, that their homeworld looked beautiful when the snow fell, no matter how harsh or for how long, the planet always seemed to be absolutely stunning when the snow fell.

Aside from Athos, there are four other habitable planets in the Athosian star system, whose sun Teyla informed them while they were admiring the Athosian celestial sphere is called Veron.  Their environments and planetary atmospheres are similar to several of Earth’s environments as well as some of the Sol system’s other planets.  Kenmore had even gone so far as to crack a joke about the other worlds being M-Class to which Rodney had gaped at her.  When Sheppard, oblivious to what she’d just said really meant, asked the Lieutenant what the ‘M’ meant, Kenmore and Rodney kept their eyes looked on each other and answered in unison ‘Minshara’.  Sheppard had frowned, not understanding, but Rodney knew full well he was staring at the face of a fellow Trekkie.  And not just any sort of Trekkie, but a science fiend Trekkie.  Only a Trekkie like that would know Minshara is what the M in M-class planet is.  Silently, he’d gone back to his work of reading incoming data on the hologram’s energy readings off of his tablet and Kenmore’d gone back to walking around the hologram’s perimeter while subtly checking to make sure the thing wasn’t bobby trapped.  Before much more could happen though, Zelenka radioed them from the Temple’s Library that the giant planetary hologram of Athos in the room had changed to show a different looking planet entirely.  When Rodney had asked what sort of planet, Radek had reported desert, a planet that was entirely desert.

Immediately Rodney’s eyes widened and the competition began.  Rodney nominated that they call the planet Tatooine as in the planet Luke Skywalker grew up on, an entirely desert planet.  An obvious choice.  Sheppard vetoed that and started throwing out his own name ideas, i.e. Sahara, Gobi, and others that even now Rodney rolls his eyes at the stupidity and thorough uncreativity of just as he had then.  They argued…and argued…and argued until Teyla called them to silence and informed them that the planet is named Laema Dar.  Both men’s shoulders stooped and they went back to listening to Zelenka, who had been chattering the entire time John and he had been arguing what to rename the planets of Teyla’s home star system.  Finally actually paying attention to him, Radek told them the desert planet’s climate is generally that of the Chihuahuan desert, from his observations, the White Sands area in particular.  Causing Sheppard to grumble about how he mentioned naming the planet White Sands, prompting Teyla to tell him rather bluntly that it was not his planet to re-name, and that resulted in there being a long awkward silence that left it up to Radek Zelenka, the one not in the room, to break.

Which he did.  Thankfully.  Radek reported that the planet’s holographic rotation was showing them two unique energy signatures on its surface some distance away from each other and that the second one was weaker and was apparently mostly underground.  Then he stumbled onto something else that had him going ‘Ooh, ooh, ooh’ like an excited child.  At that they all went running back to the Library.

Inside the giant computer station columned room, Zelenka immediately began running his mouth, word after word after word came tumbling out one tripping over the other; resulting in an unintelligible mess.  The gist was that the same satellite system that had a control console in Atlantis, that Sheppard and Rodney had thought belonged to an Ancient video game, was present in the planet’s orbit.  And…it was transmitting!  Still!  After over ten thousand years!  Of course Rodney dove for the large holoprojecting device along with Radek and the science team already analyzing it.  Trying to see if he, Rodney McKay, could get access to the satellite system…And he did, boy, did he.

The planet hologram changed to that of a space battle.  And it took up the whole length and breadth and height of the Library room!  It was like they were standing in space with the ships.  And there were lots of ships.  Everyone counted eight Aurora-class Ancient warships accompanied by two Asgard motherships taking on fifteen Wraith hiveships, Wraith hiveships that were exactly as Sheppard had once described them as:  carrier groups.  It wasn’t the hundreds they were used to, it was thousands of Wraith dart fighters taking on the precious few Ancient puddle jumpers that had apparently once accompanied their warships.  Seeing it all was painfully obvious how incredibly outmatched the jumpers were.

They were being picked apart.  Blown away right in front of their eyes.  Right in front of their bodies.  Two darts went kamikaze on a particular skillfully piloted jumper a mere two feet in front of where Teyla had been standing.  The hologram of the explosion was so convincing, so immersive, Teyla screamed and covered her body from it as though she thought she was going to be caught in the not-really-there blast.  Stackhouse, closest to her, had reacted too.  He’d reached out and yanked her to him.  Holding her close and shielding her with his own body from the blast that never had a dream of touching them.  It was a lesson everyone in the room learned well as they watched the chaos of the space battle unfold around them and past them.  Epic.  Kenmore, Rodney, and Stackhouse all commented on how much it was like the Battle over Antarctica against Anubis only all in space.  It was…horrifically beautiful.  Like watching a star go nova.

When the shields of the two Asgard motherships started crackling, showing that they were beginning to buckle from the unyielding concentrated barrage of four hiveships, the Asgard unleashed a unified constant onslaught on the four enemy ships.  Even through the uproar of war, Rodney heard Sheppard breathlessly say the word:  “Slaughter.”  And that’s what it was.  Everyone knew how the Asgard here acted and they knew very well how the Ida Galaxy Asgard had acted in battle any time a Goa’uld system Lord violated the treaty they had with the Asgard.  This, what they were seeing, was complete and utter butchery of the Wraith.  It was almost as if the Wraith had ticked off these Asgard by simply proving that with enough firepower the Asgard technology could fail to theirs.  The Asgard bombardment was the absolute definition of overkill.  In a matter of a few seconds the four Wraith hiveships didn’t explode.  They shattered.

Each pair of awestruck eyes were riveted seeing plumes of fire billow behind then suddenly engulf girders and organic looking sinewy parts of the hiveships as the flames erupted out into cold space.  Rodney was sickened to realize he was close enough to one of the hiveships to see the bodies of Wraith ejected from various decompressing areas of their dying ship.  Then incinerated alive when the vessel finally shattered entirely.  Hundreds of millions of little burning fragments.  When that happened, Sheppard gave the order to figure out what the hell they were seeing.  He’d been just as close to one of the other hiveships and had clearly been just as disgusted by the deaths he’d seen up close.

The scientists stationed at the device snapped to work and in practically no time at all Rodney reported that they’d have to go to the planet in order to find that out.  What they were seeing was all the information, other than information on the planet itself, that they were going to get.  Sheppard’d simply nodded while remaining grimly riveted by the battle.  Rodney used his shoulder radio to tell another scientist back in the main room to go back to the Asgard platform’s hologram mock up of the solar system and check on the other habitable planets in the celestial sphere.  Suddenly the all consuming battle vanished and the room seemed suddenly more than silent, cold actually and hollow, shivering making, as a new holographic image of a rotating planet rotated majestically in place over the Library’s holographic device.  The practically sapphire blue planet seemed to quietly govern the room with its deep, rich, luxurious color.  Tranquility.  Sudden welcoming peace.  Like a patient listener waiting for you to say what you needed to say and waiting for you to finish through every silence and every word.

Rodney checked and reported that this planet is a lot like Atlantis’ original planet except that this world’s single landmass is about a fifth the size.  But other than that, like Lantea, the planet is covered in deep blue ocean.  This time there is no competing to rename the planet, John had turned to Teyla and asked her and she told him that the world is called Amna and glowed a bright wondrous blue in Athosia’s night sky.  Again all Rodney could report was that the planet had an Earth-like atmosphere.  Rodney radioed the main room again and told the scientist or soldier or whoever they were, to pick another planet.

The hologram changed to a bright red planet that Rodney silently wanted to name Mustafar after the lava planet Anakin Skywalker and Obi-wan Kenobi had their infamous duel over the lava lakes of, but Teyla told them the planet is named Arca and when it shone brightly in Athosia’s sky, it was considered an omen of ill portent.  Lovely, Rodney remembered thinking, a bad voodoo planet, just what they needed after the hell planet they’d managed to get away from that Rodney was personally nicknaming Hoth; what could he say he was on a STAR WARS bent that day.

This time Zelenka reported that the planet had a not exactly Earth-like atmosphere, the planet is basically one massive Ring of Fire.  Its tectonic plates are so fractured the world is looking like an egg that had been dropped over and over to the point that no part of its shell isn’t fractured.  Rivers and lakes of lava and a planet full of still active volcanoes numbering in the hundreds of thousands cover the surface.  Somehow the planet managed to find some sort of stability in its pressures and stresses and is now somewhat stabilized, i.e. basically the planet won’t rip itself apart but as for the seismic activity that normally comes with an erupting volcano, oh sure that’s still going on.  Rodney had snarked that how in the hell could that planet possibly be termed habitable and Zelenka had answered that the energy signature they were reading on the planet’s surface was the same signature as Atlantis’s shield, implying that there was a shielded city or at least an outpost down there.  When Sheppard asked how the shield could possibly still be working at the full power Zelenka was reporting it as after ten thousand years of, they could safely guess, perpetual full power, full time use, Radek answered that the extreme volcanic conditions are being harnessed as geothermal energy and powering the shield just like it had on Taranis.  Zelenka also quickly pointed out that where the Taranian’s tapping of the geothermal energy had activated a dormant super volcano the Taranian base was built into, this planet already is basically one big super volcano, so actually the shielding isn’t putting anymore stress on the volcanic system than was already there.  And, Zelenka added, the shielded area had a breathable, all be it hot, Earth-like atmosphere.  Anything more than that, nope, no information; they’d have to go to that planet too and Radek added that it should be no problem to drop by the place considering that it is relatively close to the desert planet which is the one next on Lorne’s list of planets he and his team were investigating at that time.

Out of nowhere, without even requesting it, the volcano planet changes to a world that looked like it was made entirely of solid white.  The team had stared at it.  The ice planet.  Hoth…but Teyla had muttered the word, the planet’s name, breathlessly:  Gian.  Rodney had looked at her then, he couldn’t believe that a world that had been so hideous to them, to her personally—I mean, her father and all—and it had a beautiful name.  So melodious and musical to the ear and yet…it was unbelievable.  And it was clear by Teyla’s expression that she had had absolutely no idea that that hell-world that had taken the life of her father was the world she had known all her life as Gian.  Then she told them, fixated in horror at the sight of the planet rotating serenely yards away from her, that its stark bright white light always shows like a constant in Athosia’s sky, that the Athosians view the world as a beacon of hope and something that illuminates their darkness.  Forever constant.  Zelenka commented that it was like Venus in Earth’s sky…And that was a stomach churning thought.  The planet of love here is represented by frozen hell world.

Then the next question, Sheppard asked it:  Where next?

Well that had been somewhat answered by Lorne and the Daedalus around orbit of the fiery planet Arca, they were done checking the planet out and were heading for the desert planet Laema Dar.  Sheppard asked for a quick lowdown on what they’d seen or run into and Lorne had confirmed that it was a ‘run into’ situation.  That sent their team looking around at each other, if the ice planet was anything to go by…Kenmore immediately asked what had happened and Lorne gave them a preview of his debrief right then and there.  The shielded energy signature was indeed a place, it’s a monastery actually.  One that had housed both Ancients and Asgard monks, two of which had still been there…alone…with no one else but each other…for about ten thousand years.  Yea, Rodney’d thought and Lorne continued, telling them that one of the Asgard monks, both monks had been Asgard coincidentally, had actually charged at them in the belfry area.  He reported it screaming and snarling at them with its tiny little grey boney fingers coming at them like claws; they’d been forced to mow it down with their P-90s.  Well that sounded somewhat familiar, when Sheppard asked if the Asgard had said anything before hand, all Lorne reported was that the crazy thing started screaming at them not to pull the seventh bell, it had gone berserk and charged when Lorne just touched what was apparently the seventh bell’s rope.  Sheppard and Rodney had blatantly looked at each other then, the thought mutual Oh goody as if them being just plain crazy wasn’t bad enough, now there are religious nutbag crazy ones too.  “There’s more,” Lorne had added and went on to tell them that there were also paper notes here that said that one of the monks, an Ancient, had been drawn and quartered in the middle of the monastery’s chapter-house for ringing the seventh bell by the monastery’s controlling Ancient.  Again, an unsettling glance was shifted around the entire room especially between those of Rodney’s own team.  Not good.  Because it meant that the Ancient scientist on the ice planet wasn’t the only seriously screwed up guy involved in this, they had figured that all of the scientists involved in this secret project were mental but there’s mental and then there’s this.  Wow.

Lorne proceeded to tell them then that when they went looking around to see if there were anymore crazy monks left, they’d stumbled into the monastery’s chapter-house and ran into another one who came at them mumbling about hearing bells, although none of them had touched the bells’ ropes after the one Asgard ran at them let alone rang any of them, while clawing at the skin of his own face.  They hadn’t actually had to shoot this one, in its stumbling to get towards them it stumbled into one of the room’s shielded vents that shown the lava lake running beneath the monastery.  Lorne said it was like watching Gollum melt at the end of Return of the King, the Asgard monk had gone quietly, happily actually, which made Lorne tell his men to watch their backs and that this place was definitely creepy as hell.  Later in the more private debrief with Sheppard’s team and Kanaan and Woolsey, a debrief Kenmore had been left out of, Lorne reported that they’d found a small room just off the chapter-house that had Ancient computers lining the twelve by twelve room’s walls along with a podium that was topped with a large crystalline bowl of sorts, although it wasn’t anything like they’ve ever seen in Atlantis, it’s look was definitely Ancient.  And after Lorne’d activated the computers, his team discovered that the computers were continuing the Project Veritas experiment and that the bowled podium in the center of the small room was actually a brazier like how the Goa’uld used and it was used as a baptismal font of sorts.  The Ancient running this place, the lead monk, with a few of the other brothers as lab assistants would actually hold the baby’s limbs in the fire and then pull them out to see if the children had taken on any of the Ancient ability to heal themselves and to what extent the babies had that ability, it was also a test to see if Ancient technology could still be activated by the baby by passing the child over the brazier or having it wave a limb over it to activate the brazier’s fire.  Leading Lorne to guess that that was where the expression ‘baptismal by fire came from’.  At that point in the briefing, everybody went cold inside.  The monastery was where the babies, the offspring of hell world were taken…and the experiment that created them was continued on them.  Even now Rodney shudders.

Lorne also reported in the debrief that they’d figured out, with the help of the backup of two other teams supplied by the Daedalus, that ringing the seventh bell didn’t actually ring a bell, it opened a door in the floor of the head Ancient’s bedroom, where the other team accompanying Lorne’s had been when Lorne’s team pulled the cord.  The floor door led down a set of stairs the sort that they’d find in the outskirts of the city, metal grated, to a sort of Ancient ‘basement’ laboratory.  A circular basement lined all around by the lava lake being held back by an Ancient shield, not unlike the Stargate’s iris, being powered by said lava lake.  It was also Lorne’s believed duty to report that at the foot of the spiral staircase into the laboratory were three graves, two of which acting as a security system and they were the sickest security system he’d ever seen.  However the security system was apparently okay with you if you were led down the stairs by an Ancient or someone with Ancient DNA.  He’d reported the graves being glass topped coffins embedded in the stone floor like prone versions of Atlantis’s Ancient stasis pods, but these ones were definitely not meant to keep anybody alive.  The two security coffins, on either side of the foot of the stairs, contained one body each of unmasked Wraith drones.  Their eyes had been gouged out and inlaid with white control crystal rods and when someone passed the threshold, the crystals glowed as a signal the room had biologically scanned the entrant and okayed them to be there, i.e. knew they were Ancient.  The third coffin is the one you had to walk over because it was only a single step from the foot of the steps and inside of it was a Wraith Hive Queen.  Her eyes had not been gouged out but her desiccated corpse was frozen in a contorted position of someone having been buried alive and fighting to get out.  Fighting to save themselves.  In the metal at the sides of her coffin’s interior, they could clearly see deep claw marks painted with some sort of black substance and one of Lorne’s team had noted that the Queen’s corpse didn’t have flesh on its fingertips anymore.  Lorne had said he’d never thought he’d ever feel sorry for a Wraith, much less a Queen, but after seeing those coffins, he did…and so did Rodney.  But that was in the debrief, in the Athosian Temple’s Library room, Lorne had reported that they’d cleared the place of any hazards like booby traps, there had been none, and were moving on to the desert planet.  Sheppard had told him to tell Caldwell to plot his course within enough range to beam their team to the Daedalus and they’d ride over to the planet with Lorne’s team.

“Well,” Rodney finally speaks up after his long reminiscing silence through the hallways of Atlantis and a quick trip in a transporter over to the West Pier beside Kenmore, “we could start with the desert planet.”

Kenmore considers stopping and staring at the theoretical astrophysicist, Seriously, you pick the planet with a military base that had not just a torture chamber, oh no, it had a torture basement complete with prison cells too.  How quaint of the sick bastards.  But she didn’t.  “Yeah, Doc McKay, sure.  I found the torture chamber and prison cell block rather scenic, didn’t you?”

They take the right turn down a new hallway and this time they’re packed in it like sardines in a very small tin.  Shift change is officially here and in full swing.  And appetizingly close are the wafting enticing smells of the mess hall breakfast being refreshed for those just coming off their shifts.  Sausage, Kenmore’s stomach growls, Sweet Mary, Mother, and Joseph, sausage.  She could practically hear the links sizzling.

“That wasn’t what I meant,” Rodney frowns and he can’t help but notice the sound of her stomach.  Both that and her mention reminds him of the two times he’d thrown up in the basement of that ‘outpost’.

Passing the opened prison cells had been the first time the urge to wretch had come to him in the Ancient-Asgard ‘outpost’/military base on the desert planet.  Then they, Sheppard’s team and Kenmore and Lorne’s team, entered the torture chamber proper. Well, torture chambers.  The lights had come on at their presence just as they had when the Expedition first stepped foot in Atlantis.  Revealing these glowing icy-colored, ten by ten, doorless cells lining the opposite wall as well as the left and right sides’ walls.  Well doorless wasn’t entirely accurate either.  Spanning the front of the cells was a series of consoles that looked and acted more like the guard railing barriers you see just in front of animal cages at the zoo.  The correlative imagery hadn’t boded well.  There was also a ‘guard railing’ console cordoned off rectangular area taking up the very center of the room.  As the group, Lorne’s team bringing up the rear, dispersed, via the two-person comfortably wide aisles created by the console railings and the center rectangle, throughout the room, Kenmore had backed up to let one of Lorne’s team members past her and her presence in proximity alone activated something behind her.

The hurried yelling of “Nuh, nuh, nuh-uh” sounded like a thunderous boom in the deafeningly silent room.  Kenmore actually yelped and jumped away as she turned around, raising her P-90 to aim at the owner of the voice.  Except he wasn’t there, what was there was a cell.  A stainless steel looking, flawlessly glistening, cell the same design they had in Atlantis except that it’s blatantly clear that it wasn’t meant to hold multiple people with well more than enough room to walk around in.  It was meant to hold one very cramped person standing up in the center of it.  A projection the size of a 48-inch TV screen was now coming up from a glassy looking part lining the top of the railing console.  It showed a man dressed like one of the Ancient crewman of the Aurora and looked to be about Kenmore’s age constricted in the confining cell.  Standing stiffly and looking like he was bound by some unseen rope.  Suddenly the forcefields in between the cell’s bars crackled and snapped with whips of glacier white lightning.  The man screamed in agony.  Kenmore dropped her P-90 and covered her ears, wincing.  After a few seconds, the lightning calmed back down into nonexistence and an unseen voice commanded, “Tell me the command codes you overheard.”  The man in the cell swore he didn’t know anything.  The lightning snapped again, he screamed, this time for longer.  Then the lightning went away again and the interrogator told the man that he’d better tell him what he knew because the General was coming and he wasn’t going to be anywhere near as kind to the man as the interrogator was being now.

Kind, he’d thought then, that was kind; Rodney’s stomach had plummeted, realizing that the Ancients were interrogating their own…but he hadn’t ralphed, not then.  It wasn’t until John had stumbled accidentally too close to one of the other chambers’ console and it’s recording systems’ holo-projection appeared showing another Ancient young man in Aurora-class garb, couldn’t be more than nineteen for God’s sake, strung up like the Vitruvian man by energy shackles coming from the ceiling and the floor of the chamber.  Every muscle in the kid’s body was taught with practically every vein on it bulging.  He begged for his life as some sort of glistening stainless steel flawless looking contraption came up from a hidden compartment in the floor directly underneath his spread legs.  The contraption powered up with the sounds of a mean buzz saw and a vibrating blade came out of the top of it…and began to cut the kid from the crotch—that was all Rodney could handle.  He caught sight of the blade still cutting upward and the screams were soul piercing as Rodney ran past Sheppard, past everyone else, and out the door.  He just made it beyond the threshold when he projectile vomited onto the wall beside the door.  When he managed to catch his breath, Rodney stumbled further away.  He accidentally staggered into a prison cell, designed like an Earth prison cell, and saw the gelatinous stain in a corner next to red marks smeared into the wall just above it.  Someone had been left in here to mark the days count with their own rubbed raw fingernails before dying and instead of becoming a desiccated corpse, they became goo.  Goo he was staring at.  Goo that was still gooey.  Rodney wretched right there.  Again.  The second time.

“Look, could we just skip that whole planet,” Rodney McKay told her.  Rethinking brining up that disgusting planet at all.

“Aw, come on Doctor McKay, finding two Ancient tanks wasn’t that bad.”  She looks over at him.

He weighs that, she is right.  They turn into an offshoot corridor that’s practically empty except for them, a short cut to the mess hall that not a whole lot of people took because it didn’t normally come from or go to any of Atlantis’ labs, offices, or training areas.  Getting a couple of tanks was cool.  Well, one broken down basically scrapped tank and another that couldn’t go anywhere except the other place on the desert planet giving off a weak energy signature.  Which so happened to turn out to be the Ancient that ran that God forsaken place’s, the General’s, laboratory.  But they had a couple of teams working on breaking through the tank’s computer programming that kept it only going back and forth from the lab to see if they could get the thing to go other places in the desert and if that didn’t work, well then at least now they had the ability to reverse engineer an Ancient tank, so that’s something positive…he thinks.

The clear and distinct cough for attention comes suddenly from behind them.  McKay and Kenmore stop in the middle of the apparently almost empty hallway and turn to see Sheppard, wearing his typical stand down from missions clothing of the Expedition’s standard grey uniform pants, sans pistol holster, black combat boots, black t-shirt, untucked of course, standing a few yards behind them.

“Kenmore, you, me, training.  Now.”  He stalks off, not even bothering to see if she’s following him.

Kenmore and McKay look over at each other for a moment then Kenmore shrugs and follows after Sheppard.  Rodney watches her go, not envying her at all.  Although considering he has to finish writing his mission report about all the hideous crap they’d discovered via Athos, perhaps a training session with Sheppard wouldn’t be so bad.  He went a lot easier on you than Ronon.  Rodney looks down at his waiting to be finished mission report still on the screen of his computer tablet balanced stably on his forearm.  Then again maybe training with Ronon didn’t sound so bad right now either.  Oh, Rodney’s head shoots up, maybe Lorne isn’t done with his report either.  Maybe Rodney can convince him to write part of this report as he had unsuccessfully just tried to do with Kenmore.  McKay heads back towards the gateroom, maybe Lorne’s in the locker room area right beside there.  It’s worth a try…

Posted in Season Six- Episode Four | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Episode Four- Veritas- Front Cover

It come from within.

coverart4(final)

In the aftermath of the revelations about Athosia’s past, Atlantis’ flagship team has been temporarily grounded in order to let wounds heal and life get somewhat back to normal.  And it does when four key Expedition members are kidnapped from inside the city itself.

It’s up to the teaming of Richard Woolsey, Teyla Emmagan, Ronon Dex, and Doctors Jennifer Keller and Radek Zelenka to figure out who stole their friends and loved ones from them and how the kidnappers did it, let alone why.

While their friends search for them, Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard, Lieutenant Ursula Kenmore, Major Evan Lorne, and Doctor Rodney McKay encounter a person that the Stargate Program thought that it would never have to meet again.  Their message to the four eventually becomes clear:  there’s a threat coming to Atlantis from the outside as well as from within.

Posted in Season Six- Episode Four | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Episode Three- The Ruins- Acknowledgements

Acknowledgements

First and foremost, this goes practically without saying, I would love to thank everybody associated with the creation and production of Stargate Atlantis and the Stargate franchise.  You have created and forged a truly wonderful playground for me and many others to play in and I truly thank you for allowing me to join this incredible adventure.  You have no idea how terrific you all are!  You all so totally rock!  Next I’d like to thank Sally Malcolm for her novelization of Stargate Atlantis’ premiere “Rising”, it’s an awesome book and, to me, you wrote with the voice of Doctor Elizabeth Weir so absolutely clearly and wonderfully I couldn’t imagine doing this book without bringing the parts of your book over that I did and working them in.  It adds such a flavor and authenticity to this story that could not be possible without you, the “Rising” story, and your flawless gift for voice.  I’d also like to thank you for short story “The Companion” (Stargate SG-1/Atlantis magazine issue #12), it’s a wonderful story that fit in perfectly for adding backstory to notion of the Trust and Janus’ secret lab and just secrets in general that this book really goes for.  It adds such great history and makes for a great McKay moment, thank you.  Much thanks to Jo Graham and her short story “Gods and Heroes” that appeared in Stargate SG-1/Atlantis/SGU magazine issue #33.  It gave so much help to Teyla’s character and the backstory of the city ruins on Athosia that again help this story have so much authenticity and validity.  It’s just a great read too.  Thanks bunches.  And a huge, monumental thank you to actress Rachel Luttrell for her terrific portrayal of Teyla Emmagan but more importantly for the interview you gave in Stargate SG-1/Atlantis magazine issue #14 which gave me the idea and the cart blanch to include some ideas that you yourself had thought of for the Teyla character.  It helped so much fleshing out the personal feelings of Teyla and just enhanced the character that much more and helped to make this story, in my opinion, the Teyla-centric story that it is.  Thank you so much you precious jewel you.  And of course thank you to Natalie Barnes and Stargate SG-1/Atlantis/SGU magazine for conducting the interview and publishing it in the first place, as you’ve probably already guessed the magazine and people like you proved to be and continue to prove to be an invaluable wealthy source of information.  Thanks for the riches.  I have to give a big hand to actress Torri Higginson (“Doctor Elizabeth Weir”), Big Finish Productions, and especially Sharon Gosling for the Stargate Atlantis audio drama “A Necessary Evil,” it went a long way to helping out the progression of the story with the gift of phase shift technology that requires a huge amount of power to operate and having our Atlantean heroes encounter it before.  You helped McKay out so much and in a bizarre way, bad guy Asgard and Ancients throughout the Pegasus Galaxy.  And of course a great big thanks to Fandemonium Publishing for giving us fans access to your list of wonderful authors from which I have gotten so much both from their novels and their short stories.  And to everyone associated with Stargate SG-1/Atlantis/SGU magazine, even though we’ve lost your magazine, you’re still my go to resource for information and canon whether it comes from your incredible interviews or the great short stories you’ve published over your many issues.  Thanks for the memories, may they always add new light and life to the Stargate franchise.  And lastly, a huge thanks to everyone at Activision that had anything to with the PC game Zork Nemesis especially the writers, you have given me so much inspiration and helped me flesh out the Pegasus Asgard even more than the little bit we got to know them in the Atlantis episodes “First Contact” and “The Lost Tribe”.  Your game is awesome and came instantly to mind when it came to taking these Asgard as far away from the passive and peaceful ones who had come to know and love from Stargate SG-1 and the darker image of the Ancients.  You gave me leaps and bounds in this story, I’m so grateful.  To the fans just like me, I hope you love this book and I hope I’ve done you proud because like you I’d accept nothing that would even think of shaming one of my favorite television shows ever, let alone it’s entire franchise.  And finally to my mother, thank you for being the first person to put a pen in my hand and telling me “Go have an adventure”—P.S. the adventure is awesome!

Posted in Season Six- Episode Three | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Episode Three- The Ruins- Epilogue

Epilogue

Sheppard walks across the gangways above the perimeter of the disembarkation floor of the gateroom.  He looks down below and stops.  Lieutenant Kenmore is down there, doing a last minute check on her gear, alongside Lorne’s team.  The gate is activated and waiting for them.  Kenmore looks up and catches John standing at the railing staring down at her specifically then Lorne tells something to his team, probably that they had a go, and Kenmore walks through the gate with them.

“She’s still a part of your team, Colonel.”

John looks to his left.  Richard Woolsey, who had obviously approached him while he was distracted, is standing there looking at John.

“She’s just assisting Major Lorne’s team.  That’s the third time they’ve been back to collect supplies then return to their mission.”

Sheppard nods.  Woolsey comes to stand beside him and look down at the now empty floor.

“I take it,” the former attorney starts, “that the funeral went well.  I understand from Mister Halling that Athosian burials such as these can take up to a week when given the time to be performed properly.”

John nods.  Woolsey bows his head and they observe a mutual moment of silence.

“What mission,” John asks finally.

“What?”

“What mission is Kenmore assisting Lorne’s team with?”

“They’ve gone back to Athosia,” Sheppard straightens up.  He faces Woolsey, worried and more than a little angry and about to tell Woolsey that when Richard puts a hand up to stop him, “They are exploring the city ruins.  That’s what she went there for after all.”

“If just those caves took us someplace like that outpost—“

“The ruins are relatively safe, Colonel.”

“Relatively?  Who’s been hurt there already while we’ve been away?”

“They were just minor burns, easily treated.”

Sheppard starts again, but Woolsey puts his hand up again.

“Relax, Colonel, both you and you’re team will be able to see for yourself.  I’m ordering you to join your fifth team member on Athosia.”

“She’s not our fifth team member and when?”

“As soon as Teyla returns from her people.  She still has another day left in the traditional period of morning following the burial.”

*                      *                      *

Teyla’s foot lands on a whole different set of soil.  This one is just as fertile as her new homeworld’s, but this one was the first her feet had ever touched.  The gate shuts down behind her as she steps away from it with the rest of her team.  The morning fog still clings to the spaces in between the trees.  She looks over at Sheppard, he nods, and she leads them back to her village once again.  The journey is not long as it had not been before but unlike the last time she was here, there is no feeling of unresolved connection.  Although this place had been her home for many years, the place where she had been born and the place where she had suffered the loss of both her parents and the place where she had first met the people she serves with now, this place is no longer her home anymore.  There are no more ghosts to run beside her.  She had buried them almost a week ago now.

As they near the village, curious sounds reach her ears.  The village was alive again.  People are talking to each other, laughing nearby, yelling to each other to not forget to bring things along with them.  The team stops at the gap that opens to the main avenue of her village and the lake across from it.  She looks towards her village.  Yes, indeed, she had been right.  SGC scientists have turned the destroyed huts that are still somewhat usable into shelters again.  They are milling through the village much as her own people had when other members of their expedition had first arrived here.

“Colonel Sheppard,” the voice comes from the direction of the lake.  They turn to see Sergeant Stackhouse walking up to them from the lake’s shore, “Mister Woolsey told me you’d be coming through.  Come on, Sir, Lieutenant Kenmore is in the city.”

With a smile, he starts leading them up around the lake’s perimeter.

“What have you discovered so far,” McKay asks as they walk.

“I think it’s better if you just see it.”

“Well can’t you at least just give us a clue?”

Stackhouse looks back at Rodney.

“It took us twenty-four hours just to figure out how to open the front door.  Can you imagine how many Athosian days that is?”

Well, considering the average Athosian day is six hours long and has an equivalent night.  Wow, McKay’s face quirks, either they are working with really dumb people, dumber than I thought they were, or this place really is complicated.

It takes five minutes to walk around the bend of the lake and as they get closer, the ruins begin to stretch out beyond their view and seem to go right up to the mountains in the distance behind.  There does seem to be a city center though, the broken down remains of a massive, much larger than anything else around it Temple.  Its open welcoming arch was the one that could be seen from the shoreline in front of Teyla’s village.  It seems to be the only structure left somewhat intact.  Everything else seems to have been reclaimed by both time and weather and perhaps nature too but the mountains and the remains of the city are too far off to tell if that’s true or not.  The team starts for the arch but Stackhouse draws off to the left, he stops.

“You can’t go through there yet.  We’re not too sure about the structural integrity of the arch.  You have to get inside from over here,” he informs them then starts walking again.

The team takes a fleeting look at the arch, Rodney’s attention remains much longer than everybody else’s, but they follow Stackhouse anyway.  He leads them around a tall line of what remains of an incredibly tall wall that encircled the place.  There’s enough of the wall left that it still stands a good foot taller than Ronon might be able to reach, even on his tippy-toes although John didn’t think the giant Satedan would go that far.  He’d probably jump for the top and even then John figures it would be unlikely for his fingertips to catch a good hold on the lip of what remains of the wall’s edge.  Eventually the wall ends, finally broken and crumbling into nothing but they’ve long gone past the front of the Temple so it doesn’t reveal anything about the front of the building they weren’t allowed to see yet.

The wall of the main building stretches up high enough to block out the rising sun coming up from the horizon’s treeline on the distant other side of the building.  Passing into the shadows makes them feel as though they were walking around one of Atlantis’ taller spires, but it also makes it easier to examine the wall as they walk beside it.  It had been smoothly honed at one point in time and, like the rest of this city, time and weather has roughed it up.  Roughed it up badly enough that part of its brickwork has simply weakened and given way, leaving a giant hole big enough for a puddle jumper with its engine pods fully extended to pass through it easily in the side of the wall with the fallen and broken bricks tumbling away from it and already partially retaken by the soil and grass.  They pass a duo of scientists lugging a container out as they enter.

Inside, Sheppard has to hold himself in.  He stares all around him, it was like walking into Atlantis for the first time all over again.  This big Temple is relatively simple inside like Ancient décor had a tendency to look from the outside and it is all carved from stone.  The room extends up about as far as the jumper bay’s roof does.  Even then that was just a shaft big enough to fit a jumper through, this is an entire room five times the perimeter of the gateroom including the command center.  Normally John would exclaim ‘Holy crap’ or something like that, but words fail him at the magnitude of the room.  Just like they had when he first stepped foot into Atlantis’ gateroom, but this is much more than Atlantis’ gateroom at first sight.  And just like the gateroom, there are gangways just lining the walls all around them.  Only half of one remains intact though, showing that rather than like Atlantis’ simple metal railings on their gangways, these had ornately carved stone ones.  Probably an aging reminder of the civilization this once had been and the heyday the Ancients might have been leading humanity through here in the Pegasus Galaxy before the Wraith.  All the other gangways have fallen to the floor leaving barely recognizable remnants of themselves behind on the upper level.  In the center of the room, excavated from the layers of debris from the collapsing elements in here and dirt from the natural elements blowing in from outside through the gaping hole that have combined on the floor, is an ornate floor medallion inlaid with strips of silver and copper and the polished iridescence of some sort of seashell, probably the Athosian equivalent of abalone or mother of pearl, depicting an inner circle with an outer ring.  The inner circle shows what looks like a white glowing star shape, John knew that that is what Ascension looks like, and the outer ring is divided into four different quadrants with equally artistic art nouveau representations of the four elements.  North, earth and set of beautiful mountains untouched by snow or sky and peppered by rock representations of other gorgeous minerals that look like various granites and marbles.  South, fire and sumptuous flames curving and writhing this way and that.  East, air and luscious, bubbling and billowing clouds.  West, water and a richly-hued, roiling ocean with giant vivid breakers.  Set around the room and positioned in between the four natural compass points are podiums that look like the one an Ancient had commanded out of Atlantis’ disembarkation floor when she and her crew had returned home and taken a very short-lived command of the city before the Replicators killed them, with two of the regular computer consoles that they used in Atlantis’ command center attached to either side of it.  Dead and buried, it’s already spectacular.  Revisited…When they get done with it, John would love to see what Atlantis’ archeologists’ ‘computer generated theoretical recreation’ of this place would look like.  It’d be mind blowingly beautiful.

Teams of two, three, or four scientists are gathered around each podium and plugged into them with a handful each of computers and tons of other gadgets with a bunch of cords and wiring spread over the floor of their immediate areas, doing their scientific thing.  As Sheppard and his team walk further into the center of the room, their boots echo and crunch on the dirty, stone floor.  Standing by one of the podiums and watching its group of worker-bee scientists, Lieutenant Kenmore looks up and walks over to them.

McKay’s eyes look like they will never fit back into his skull ever again as he continues to look around.

“What—what”

Sheppard stares at him, Holy crap, Rodney can’t form words.

“It’s a school,” Kenmore answers the question struggling to be asked.

McKay stares at her.

“A school,” his whole body is giddy, “a school, we actually found an Ancient school.”

Kenmore nods but her expression remains serious.  Sheppard lights onto that.

“What’s the catch,” he asks.

Kenmore takes a deep breath, Oh boy, then starts…

“According to what we’ve discovered so far, the Ancients really did back the Asgard in their efforts to save themselves by using human DNA, well, at least some of them did.”  That wasn’t good, John’s stomach drops, weren’t the Ancients supposed to be the good guys?  Kenmore goes on, “But,” she holds up a finger, “but they were extremely selective in who they gave to the Asgard.”  Gee those lucky few.  “That’s what this place was,” she extends both her arms in a gesture meant to introduce the expanse of the place, although it really doesn’t need it.  The place introduces itself as soon as you stepped inside of it, heard the echoes of your own footsteps, and realize just how small you really are in the world or at least its world.

“That’s it,” McKay snarks, obviously feeling a hell of a lot of stuff is missing in her explanation, “This is just a school for picking out good genetic material?”

“An academy actually, the whole city,” Kenmore drops her arms and starts to lead them off into the middle of the main area of the massive room.  She gestures at the four podiums of what John can only guess are science stations, “Every building here was meant to teach the humans of this planet everything the Ancients knew involving the sciences.  Starting with the basics.  Earth,” she gestures to the northwest podium, “fire,” southeast, “air,” northeast, “and water,” southwest, “and how they blended together to represent everything in the universe.”

“The elements,” Rodney scoffs.

“We beamed out of Asgard Hell with alchemy and you’re griping about studying the four basic elements of life,” she asks him, sounding not the least bit perturbed by him in any way.

Rodney stalls, John glances at him.  Okay so, so far in this whole thing Kenmore has scored how many points over the great genius of Doctor Rodney McKay?  If he hadn’t just come from a funeral, John might have cracked a lopsided smile at the astrophysicist’s expense.  She’s gotten more points on him than even Zelenka or Carson normally did.  But the Colonel didn’t crack a smile and Kenmore goes on.

“These podiums represent the final tests of these four schools of study of this Academy.  That’s where the Asgard come in.  Only when someone was able to pass all four were they then sent to the Asgard to undergo what were called the ‘Final Challenges.’”

“How do you know they were called the Final Challenges?”

“Because, Doctor McKay, we found the personal study of the Ancient that ran this place.”

They all start at her.

“Why didn’t you mention that first,” John snaps, although he really hadn’t meant to.

She looks at him, “Because there were things you needed to know first.”

“Like what,” he asks.

“Like there wasn’t a single Ancient in Atlantis that had a clue about this place.  Oh, they knew about Athosia, don’t get me wrong, and they knew that there was a school here.  They had a large hand in building the place, that’s why Athosia’s name comes up so soon in the database even though the database isn’t alphabetized and it’s not just because the planet’s still inhabited and has an operational gate on it either.  It’s because of the school.  But they didn’t know at all that some of the brainiacs this place was turning out were being smuggled to the Asgard.  It was a conspiracy between the Asgard, four scientists, their flunkies, and the guy that ran this place.  Apparently they were all united under the same cause.”

“A conspiracy?  You really expect me to believe that there was a conspiracy this huge operating right under the Ancients’ noses and they didn’t know about it?”

Kenmore starts leading them off in the direction of the front door of the complex, towards a permanently open set of double doors at the far end of the room, “I got one name for you, Doctor McKay:  The Trust.”

Rodney gives her that one.  That was a huge sore spot for any member of the SGC.  It had been embarrassing when the Tollans and a couple of other races friendly to the SGC or that the SGC had been hoping at the time would become friendly with them came and accused the SG teams of stealing technology the SGC had previously asked for and had been denied.  That’s when the SGC learned of an organization using them as cover that simply referred to itself as the Trust and was going around taking whatever they wanted and leaving all the legitimate SG teams to take all the heat.  Oh and there was that little matter of Janus having a secret lab in the heart of Atlantis herself right under the noses of the Ancients too, not the least of which was the Lantean Council.  And he hadn’t been the only Ancient to do it, there had been another Ancient, Doctor Josua, who had inadvertently managed to do the same thing by creating an assistant/companion hologram that developed an…unhealthy attachment to him, closed off the lab from everything outside it, and trapped him inside it until his death and Rodney’s arrival…

Rodney’s mouth works.

Sheppard’s team follows her.  She walks them to the end of the raised platform they had apparently been on, down its few stairs then the forty yards further to the exit.  Their footsteps echo the entire way and Sheppard notices doorways at the corners of this massive room leading off to places he can’t see before he leaves.  There again Kenmore hasn’t immediately mentioned the particulars of this room either like where those doorways lead to.  Kenmore leads them into another expansive room, well they had thought it was a room.  Once they walk out from under the covered knave walkway going around the perimeter of the rectangular-shaped area, they realize they’re in an open-air courtyard.  They’ve entered it on its width which makes it seem even more expansive just stretching out on either side of them, perhaps measuring the equal of the room they just exited if they had entered more on its length than they did.  Kenmore leads them right down the middle between two bowl-shaped pits.  McKay tries to look them over as he simultaneously tries to keep up with the group.

“They’re fire pits for meditation,” Kenmore says without looking back.

Rodney looks at her back then over at Sheppard beside him, the Colonel shrugs, and they keep on walking.  The Lieutenant leads them to the brink of another stretch of hallway but instead of going down it, she turns right and returns back under the cover of the knave.  Both Sheppard and McKay glance at the long, wide, fat stretch of hallway that extends for at least fifty more yards and apparently ends at the front door.  Although it’s itching at John to go there instead of following a Lieutenant whom he already knows is keeping things about this place secret from them, he keeps telling himself that the prospect of walking into an Ancient personal study is far more important to them than him wanting to bolt for the front door throw it open and see what the hell they didn’t get to see in the first place.  He turns and they follow the Lieutenant all the same.  God he wants a crack at what’s down there or at least at what’s outside that door though.  It was a tempting prospect, the Lieutenant hadn’t exactly been close enough to stop them if he’d just kept on going and left her to follow behind them.

This part of the walkway is darker, Sheppard’s eyes need to readjust, snapping him back from his lagging musings.  It takes a moment then John sees a light coming from the end of the covered walkway; it’s creamy and has a tendency to undulate, casting a fuzzy, shifting haze of light only a few feet beyond an open doorway.  If the light were more silver and cast a broader gleam, the Lieutenant Colonel would bet at least a month’s pay that its source is an active stargate.  Please God, that was all they needed, another stargate, a little personal sized one just the right size for only one person to go through at a time.

“You know if that light were more silver and cast a broader gleam of light from it, I’d say that its source was an active stargate,” McKay leans over and whispers to him, Sheppard looks at the scientist, “Perhaps a personal one, just the right size for only one person to go through at a time.”  John continues to stare at him.  It really is freaky sometimes how often they think alike.

Kenmore walks up to the opened door and gestures them in.  Sheppard, Teyla, and Ronon hesitate, eyeing her, but Rodney just walks right in without a second thought of “trap”.

His speed slows, McKay almost staggers to stop as he stares around him, gapping.  He had expected at least something like Janus’ secret lab but this is…

“What the hell happened to this place?  Now you can’t say that this was done by the elements.”

The rest of the team enters at Rodney’s little rant and Kenmore follows them in.

Rodney stares around the room, turning in a slow circle to take in everything he already knew his eyes were registering but his mind was having an enormous amount of trouble grasping.  The place is a dump.  From what he’s come to expect via pristine Atlantis, this place looks even worse than his own disheveled genius’ apartment back on Earth.  There were no signs that air current from strong winds coming through from the broken outside or the position of this room’s door relative to the exterior room funneling said wind into this place could throw things around as violently as they appear to have been.  Papers were blow, strewn, whatever, flung everywhere along with books of all shapes and sizes.  The four what must have been computer consoles at one point in time before someone looks like they took a bat to them sit in the room at nice, orderly intervals like desks in a classroom, apparently one ravaged by its own personal hurricane.  On the left side of the wall and the right are shelves that go up to the ceiling almost a foot shy of touching it, and that foot shy has all manner of things just crammed into it.  From where he’s standing in the middle of the room, Rodney can pick out tattered and dusty old clothes, crumpled papers, more broken equipment, random knickknacks like geodes, clumps of quartz crystal, and other utterly useless geological things, and books, both whole and practically ripped to shreds.  What might have been bare stone walls at one point in time are covered in artistic sketches and renderings of various subject matter from the human body and brain to planets Rodney has never seen before and symbols he can’t even begin to imagine what they mean or represent to the schematics for machines he can barely even begin to fathom what they are let alone what they’re meant to do and mathematical formulas that leave him with the same feeling.  In fact, to him, they look like some dead mathematical language’s answer to gibberish.

“Well, you know, with how big this place is and beat up it is, Rodney, maybe the wind just blew through here,” Sheppard tries staying as close to the door, and subsequently Kenmore, as he wants to while still getting as big an idea of what surrounds them as his teammates are.

“Oh, please,” Rodney snarks, “like wind can really break up computer consoles like that without treelimbs or fallen debris.”  The scientist gestures towards the intact ceiling.

John nods.  Okay, he has to give Rodney that, the ceiling is still up in here and as far as John can see, there aren’t any treelimbs in here either.

“If the Wraith landed, they could have come in here and done it themselves,” Ronon offers.

“No,” Teyla shakes her head as she looks over one of the computer consoles, “I have never heard of the Wraith landing on my planet before.  They simply cull with darts or their hiveship then leave us to pick up whatever is left and continue to live in fear of their return.”

John looks over the broken computer console nearest him.

“Maybe it was an overload.  When the Ancients picked up stake and ran back to Atlantis, they tried to destroy as much important stuff as possible before they left so the Wraith couldn’t use it or get access to it,” he adds.

“No, there would be signs of that, charred circuitry, molten glass,” Rodney denies.

“He did it himself.”

They look back at Kenmore standing just a step inside the doorway.

“Who,” Rodney asks her.

“The Ancient scientist that ran this place.  He went nuts.  And he busted things up.”

“How do you know that?”

“He told us so.”

Rodney’s eyes bug out of his head, “You found him?  He’s alive?”

“No, he’s dead.  His tomb’s in the front yard but—“

“His tomb!  You could have taken us to his tomb.”

“Yeah,” Kenmore nods.

“Why didn’t you take us to his tomb?”

“’Cause he’s dead.  He ain’t goin’ nowhere.”

“Oh and this stuff might?”

“You never know,” Kenmore says and McKay starts eyeing everything like he’s waiting for each individual item to turn into zombies and come and get him.  Kenmore reaches over to the top of a stack of papers, picks up a red leather-bound book, and holds it up for Rodney to see, “He wrote a lot in his journals.”

“Journals,” Sheppard asks.

“Yeah,” she nods, “almost all of these books in here are journals he handmade.  This is the last one,” Rodney looks back at the bookshelf on the left side then walks over to it, picks up a blue leather-bound book, and starts to read it, “It starts out pretty okay then it starts to go downhill.”

“How,” Sheppard asks.

“He starts to refer to himself in the third person.  Eventually he just snaps and only refers to himself in the third person.”

“Okay,” that actually doesn’t sound so bad to Sheppard, they’ve encountered weirder and far worse degrades into insanity than that, “so what’s his name?”

Her expression changes, not entirely in a way he likes.

“That’s where it get’s freaky.”

“Like it wasn’t that way already,” Rodney comments as Kenmore opens the book to its last page.

John shoots McKay a glare as she holds open the book’s spread to John.  There’s very little writing on the page, about half of it.  It would have been less than that but as the writing goes on over the course of the page, the spaces in between the lines gets bigger and the letters do too, but no matter how large they get John still can’t read it, he doesn’t read Ancient.  Puddle jumper Ancient, yes; this sort of Ancient, no.  But he doubts anyone else can, as the lettering and the gaps in between the lines too got larger, the ink—was that ink?—starts to splatter and bleed like whatever writing implement had been used had practically been mashed into the paper at the end like the guy’d been getting angrier and angrier as he wrote and at the end, finally exploded in rage.  John shakes his head at her.

“It’s that last giant, blotchy squiggle,” she tells him.

“I don’t know how to read Ancient,” he finally admits to her, not that he particularly wanted to but he needs her to start coughing up information and if this is going to be the way to do it, then he can take a little grief.

“It’s Nemesis.  His name was Nemesis.”

John swallows hard at her, as the others look back at her.

“Well that’s disheartening,” Rodney says then returns to the book in his hand.

John had to agree.

“Did you find out anything else,” he asks.

“Yeah, this whole thing began on a nice first note—well nice for them,” John nods, Kenmore goes on, “This place was the center of the campus like the HUB of a college.  You’d come here for your final exams which meant facing four challenges.  Each one representing one of the four elements.  Each time you pass a challenge, you’re taken back to that main area for evaluation.”

“What sort of evaluation,” McKay asks.

“A genetic one,” McKay looks up at her, “apparently actually passing the challenges wasn’t necessarily the point.  Don’t get me wrong, they showed that you were smart and trusting.”

“Lambs,” Rodney says, John glares at him again.

“Yeah,” Lieutenant Kenmore continues, “except that every time you do the task it specifically aligns to that person doing the task which means that only one person at a time can perform the challenge.  However, that only-one-at-a-time-genetics thing doesn’t count with the Ancient gene.  Apparently every person meant to do the task was also supposed to have an Ancient supervisor with them.”

“Making sure no one figures out a way to cheat the test,” Rodney says.

Kenmore nods.

“So what are the tests,” Sheppard asks.

“I don’t know I’m not seeing anything that really goes into any great detail about them,” Rodney answers before Kenmore can but the Lieutenant’s eyes don’t leave Sheppard for a moment.

“Well maybe if you check the library…,” she trails off smartly.  John could almost smile at her…almost.

“There’s a library,” Rodney’s head shoots up from the book, “Why didn’t you mention that before?  Why did you take us here first,” he exclaims.

“Because of the back of the room,” Kenmore points at the tattered, aged red what looks like velvet curtain behind Ronon.  They look back.  “That’s a separate room.  The books in there aren’t journals, they’re the records of his own experiments.”

“What experiments,” Sheppard asks as Ronon strays to the red curtain and tries to pull it back but it’s so worn away already, made fragile by thousands of years of rest, natural wear-and-tear maybe blowing through into here, and a madman tearing crap up, that the curtain just tears away.  Ronon let’s go of what little of the fabric is actually left in his hand and just let’s it fall in a dusty lump onto the floor at his feet.  What’s revealed is, by comparison, a bizarrely pristine room—well, relatively pristine, everything’s still got more than one healthy layer of dust and age on it.  It’s definitely a smaller room, about nine feet wide and maybe five feet in length.  There’s another bookcase that goes from the floor to the ceiling and covers the entire back wall of the anteroom except it’s books, all still intact, are perfectly ordered and all still nice and neatly residing on their shelves.  The other stone walls are bare.  On the floor and off to the right side is a very large cylinder, that comes to a point, on a step-up platform.  It’s not lit up although it’s pretty obvious that it’s meant to.  It’s got all the bells and whistles, the coloring, the Ancient writing, it looks like it belongs in Atlantis, but it doesn’t look like anything Ancient they’ve ever encountered before.  It’s the wrong shape, the wrong general design.  So far the only Ancient things they’ve encountered that are round have been the puddle jumpers.  And absolutely nothing cylindrical, again except for the puddle jumpers, either.  It’s all so bizarre.  They stare at the revelation as Kenmore goes on…

“Like I said this place started out on a nice note but apparently Nemesis started to believe that the others were conspiring to kill him.”

“So we can add paranoia to the insanity,” Rodney had to make the bordering on snarky comment.

“It’s not paranoia if they’re really out to get you nor is it insanity if you’ve got the proof they’re out to get you.”

He looks back at her and she points, off-handedly again, at the cordoned off area’s back wall bookcase of perfectly still in place, leather-bound books, “All of those books either contain handwritten accounts of his reporting his colleagues suspicious behaviors, those are the blue ones, transcripts of subspace transmissions the others exchanged between each other with or without knowing he had secretly tapped into the signals and listened in on them, those are the red ones, or actual letters that were exchanged between the other four that he outright stole from them, the yellow ones.”

“And what was the experiment,” John repeats.

“Oh it was simple, he was trying to figure out a way to get them first.”

“So what was he using,” Rodney asks as he wanders forward into the private area with Ronon, “Poison?  Gas?”

“The Wraith.”

Their expressions shoot back to her, but Kenmore’s expression is focused on Teyla.  John doesn’t know whether he likes that or not.  He takes a step towards his friend, placing himself just slightly in between the two women.

“You’re people were right about stepping foot in these ruins.  He was working on a way to use the Wraith to stop the others from continuing the experimenting on humans and he found it.  That podium in there is actually one big beacon that sends out only one message and it sends it out on a Wraith frequency.”

“And what message would that be,” Ronon asks as Rodney eyes the podium while simultaneously keeping his distance from it like his breathing on it would somehow activate both it and some catastrophic event.

“A set of coordinates.  The location of this planet.”

Teyla slowly turns her head and stares back at the podium, “He was the one who brought the Wraith to this planet,” she said it with anger, seething, accusatory anger.

Kenmore nods, “And he used this place to do it.  Luckily though,” Teyla’s head shoots back with a clear glare aimed at the Lieutenant that as usual the Lieutenant ignores, “you’re people started to associate here with the Wraith.  The more you avoided it, the less the Wraith came.  It was more due to the crap they were beating into Atlantis at the time actually than this place, but whatever.”

“Why isn’t this thing still transmitting,” Rodney asks, cagily edging towards it.  John eyes him carefully, just in case the eager astrophysicist actually managed to trigger the thing and that catastrophic event.  It’s dumb, he knows, the Wraith already know about this planet but still…

“He only set it to transmit until the Wraith arrived and when they did, he turned it off.”

Rodney looks back at Kenmore, gees he’s going to go back to Keller complaining about whiplash, “You mean…”

She nods again, “Yep, he was still here when the Wraith culled this place the first time.  He just hid here during the bombardment and hoped that the others would get totally screwed over, humans included apparently.”

John glances over at Teyla, he watches her seethe at the podium some more.  Her people have respected, even worshipped, the Ancients for thousands of years, trusted them even now, trusted the Atlantis Expedition because of it.  And now she finds out that it was one of those Ancestors that had sold out her people to be eaten by the wraith over and over again for the rest of their existences.  She looks like she wants to blast away the podium right now, but instead she simply spoke with a quiet voice laced with hate…

“Where are these tests,” her voice has gone past the sort of outrage that warbles it like Wraith hybrid Michael threatening the life of her then unborn child.

“According to the map, the fire one’s in the library.”

“Map?”  Rodney looks up, Kenmore nods again and walks back out.

Without hesitation, Teyla turns and follows her.  The three men exchange a look with each other then follow the women out.

 

 

Sheppard, Ronon, and Rodney walk out from under the covered knave and towards where they see a shadow leaving them behind, Teyla’s.  They finally get to walk into that open, long, wide, fat stretch of hallway that extends towards the front of the building.  John sees Teyla’s back enter an open doorway on the left wall that even from his angle and distance away looks large enough to fit one massive set of double-doors.  They follow her into a room that rivals the main room they’d first entered into.  It is so totally different though.  Where the rest of this place looked like Atlantean chic meets the Middle Ages, this place looks all Ancient.  First of all, there are computer databanks all over the room on their own half-circle platforms going in columns and rows all the way up the metal walls.  Metal probably built and forged over the stone that’s behind it like a sheath.  John starts at scuffling sounds coming from above his head and immediately crouches down in a moment of paranoid silence staring up above his head at the platform coming out of the wall above the entrance to the room.  The scuffling comes again and suddenly Doctor Radek Zelenka’s head appears over the platform’s edge, looking down at Sheppard with an ecstatic smile and an enthusiastic wave.

“Good afternoon, Colonel.  You would not believe this place,” and immediately the Czech scientist descended into super excited gesticulations and mile-a-minute musings in his native tongue.  John, still a bit sheepish and guarded—and embarrassed, simply nods at him and slowly comes out of his crouch and releases the trigger his finger had nearly pressed, but he doesn’t relax his P-90 as he waves back at the excited scientist.  He looks back at Rodney and Ronon, to which they give him the look of “Jumpy much,” then they walk into the center of the room.  Well as much as of it as they can.

The center of the room is taken up mostly by a giant holoprojector displaying an equally massive hologram of the Athosian planet itself; the thing reminds Sheppard of that one scene in Return of the Jedi.  He’d make the remark “Cool” but the lighting in the room is so much like the spooky aquarium lab that that severed head had talked to them in.  Except that the spotlights of creamy white light are placed over the entrances/exits and right in front of a collection of maps against one side of the wall rather than highlighting some sort of operation slab in the middle of the room on which some poor bastard was about to be experimented on by someone whose people he grew up believing he could trust with his faith let alone his life.  Embedded in the floor at the bottom of every other open space between the columns of computer platforms are circles in silver and the same iridescent sea-shell as the medallion back in the main room softly lit up by glowing strands of blue and silvery white light strips.  Mini-transporters, John guesses, figuring that’s how you get from platform to platform, just stand in the circle and think of which platform you wanted to go to up the column and presto, you’re there.  It’s a little thing that adds hugely to Kenmore’s assertion that this place required its non-Ancient visitors to have Ancient gene-possessing supervisors.

The magnitude, the technology, around them is humbling and John notices that for as many databases glowing, lighting up the dark room with their eerie Ancient tonal-values of oceanic blues, sea foamy greens, and silvery whites, only four teams are actually working on them.  Zelenka and a technician are stationed on the database platform, above the entrance from the hallway and two columns to the right and four rows up is another pair of scientists working on another database.  Stationed on another platform over the other entrance into the library, and John would have to tell Kenmore later that calling this room just simply a library was clearly an understatement the likes even layman’s terms couldn’t justify that John would rip her a new one for let alone Rodney, is another pair of scientists.  John can see an old dead garden outside the other entrance with another dilapidated fire pit at the heart of it.  Its semi-circle perimeter wall made up of dead hedge shrubs, obviously a mediation garden meant to get you even closer to nature…and evaluation.  Well that explains where Teyla’s people get their penchant for meditating from, it’s a bitter thought, If they only knew…John looks away, the final pair of scientists are working on the giant holoprojector itself, trying to get the image of the rotating lush green and blue and white planet it’s currently showing to change to hopefully something else that will prove more useful than a pretty topographical map of Athosia.

His team spreads out and finally Rodney comes out with it…

“So where is this map that tells us where the challenges are located?”

Kenmore looks over at the holoprojector team and they look up at her.

“Fire it up boys,” she says and they go back to work on the computers they’ve hooked up into the thing along with a generator the kind they used to power the chair back in Atlantis.

In a few seconds the peaceful image of Athosia shifts into a rotating three-dimensional layout of what they can only assume is this building.  There are four symbols pulsing at different locations around the map.  John recognizes enough Ancient and especially one of those symbols to know that for all their ornate detailing they’re the numbers one through four, and it looks like number one if his directions are right, although it’s kind of tough because the image keeps rotating like the planet had turned, but it still looks like number one is…John turns to his right, trying to keep his focus and his alignment with the map as it too shifted…like number one was…he gestures off to his right while the map turns beyond what he can manage to turn without losing sight of it…or maybe it was…he gestures to his left.  Rodney rolls his eyes at what he considers to obviously be his fearless leader’s Neanderthal-discovering-fire leanings and practically explodes…

“Oh for God’s sakes, it’s says it’s over there,” McKay points back at the collection of maps against the far wall.

The maps are almost exactly like the big glass displays in Atlantis’ Command Center, where there they usually display scans of Atlantis’ solar system or any other relevant schematics or diagrams or other maps of their own area.  Framed in frosted glass, trimmed here and there in geometric slats of silver metal with a central display of clear glass; the only difference is size, these maps are four times maybe five times the size of the ones in Atlantis.  The central display still has that brushed undulation look like water streaming and trickling over the image and distorting the view of what’s underneath it.  As far as John can tell there are four individual maps, one is displaying a topographical display of the mountain range these ruins are nestled at the base of, which is massive, the one behind that one shows the outlying regions, John can plainly see the lake just outside the front of this place and Teyla’s village on the other side of it, and the other two behind those are so distorted by let alone their own undulations but the other two on top of them, he can’t tell what they’re showing but he figures they probably have to be more land maps given the two he can see.  It’s another little taste of home.  Teyla approaches the maps slowly like she’s waiting for her sheer presence to set off some sort of trap Nemesis had left behind…like those burns Woolsey had mentioned.

“It’s not booby-trapped,” Kenmore says behind McKay, “We’ve already set that off.  Djajej caught on fire.”

John looks over at her as they continue towards the maps and Rodney turns to her and asks, “Who?”

“Franci Djajej, the German chick.  Her arm got the worst of it but we put her out in enough time,” she gestures back towards the main hall, “Worthy took her back through the gate.  She should be fine in a couple of months.  Her arm’ll take a little bit longer than that though.”

John glares at her.  Minor burns, his ass.  Why the hell hadn’t he been informed of something like that?  Yes, he had been offworld at the time but that doesn’t mean he stops being the military leader of this expedition God damn it.  Kenmore shrugs him off as Teyla steps up to the maps and starts looking them over.  McKay, Sheppard, and Ronon come up behind her.  The maps look harmless enough.  Ronon certainly can’t see where fire can come out of them.  In fact, he can’t see where there’s much of a test here.  He looks over at Sheppard and catches the same thought coming back at him.  They aren’t seeing it, whatever ‘it’ is.  Rodney looks up at where the maps hang from the ceiling.  Even though it’s insanely dark up there, he can’t see any difference in these suspension systems from those that hold the much smaller displays in Atlantis.  He pulls the little flashlight from his tacvest, flicks it on, and aims its light at one of the eight suspension rigs.  He peers.

“Well I don’t see anything that could generate fire…or an electrical current strong enough to catch fabric on fire,” McKay says as Teyla stares at the map of the mountains, “Are you sure—,” then she reaches out and touches its side.  The map suddenly slides over to the right and clear out of the way of the map underneath it.  The Athosian stares at it, so does Rodney.  But the other two men turn leveled glares back at the Lieutenant calmly standing behind them.  She looks totally unfazed, she knew that was going to happen.  Teyla could have caught on fire and Kenmore wouldn’t have done a thing to prevent it.

“So I take it that that was not the part where Déjà Vu caught on fire,” McKay asks.

“Djajej and nope,” Kenmore shakes her head, “Keep going, you’ll find the door.”

Rodney looks back at her as Sheppard and Ronon look back at the maps with Teyla.

“You knew there was a door here all along and you never thought to say ‘Gee why don’t you go over to that wall over there, that’s where one of the tests is,’” Rodney McKay growls.

Kenmore shrugs, “You asked where the map was.  I figured you knew how to read it.”

Rodney starts towards her, shaking his finger at her with his flashlight in the same hand, and that ‘Oh don’t you start with me little girl’ look on his face.  Kenmore, again, looks totally unfazed.  John turned to watch as soon as Rodney started towards Kenmore but before anything can start between the scientist and the upstart, Teyla reaches forward and touches the same side of the second map as she touched on the first one.

The map slides to the right but only half of its width to the side, not entirely away like the one before it had.  She frowns at it then touches its other side and the map slides off to the left and entirely out of the way just like the one ahead of it had.  She touches the other maps out of her way, drawing everyone’s attention to her.  Behind all of the maps is a door that looks exactly like the doors in Atlantis except it doesn’t have a side-panel of control crystals.  Teyla takes a deep breath, she wants to know what this man had done to her people, and she steps up to the door.  It slides open at her presence showing nothing but darkness at first then suddenly little sconce lights like the ones in Atlantis come on one by one just the way John and Rodney remembered them doing in Atlantis when they first arrived in the darkened city and it came to life at the presence of the Expedition.  It is again a souring bizarre taste of home.  Teyla eyes the slightly illuminated path before her.  What happened to her people?  What did he make my people do?  Silently, Teyla walks the path.

And the others follow.  The four crews of scientists watch them disappear into the relative darkness.  Kenmore stops in the middle of the threshold and casually turns her head to face the crew at the holoprojector.

“Tell the main room we’ll see them in a moment.”

The scientists nod at her then she turns and follows.

 

*                      *                      *

It is the sort of foreboding darkness that reminds Teyla and the rest of her team, save for Ronon who was not part of their team at the time, of that world in which Teyla’s mind had been taken control of by a man named Dorane, whom they thought was a lone-surviving Ancient of that world, and she was forced to turn John into a horrible creature called a Koan, a creation of Dorane’s meant to torture the true inhabitants of that world in revenge against the Ancients.  Rodney had described that place as a reliquary.  The atmosphere then had made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end, a feeling John had described to her as the same sentiment to be found in “zombie movies.”  She is not feeling that same thing now, but everything around her was reminding her of walking the halls of that broken place with her friends trying to find its secrets only to discover rooms, cells, with remains they dare not touched left inside and run into the madman who had experimented on those people in horrible ways as punishments for the Ancestors not helping him.  Now Teyla thought that perhaps that madman’s people had been spared the worst.

The sound of her own footsteps did not reach her ears nor did the footsteps of the rest of her team she knew was behind her.  They would not let her enter into such unknown darkness without them.  Still they are surrounded by relative darkness and silence.  It is one of the things causing her mind to wander to what it must have felt like for one of her people to have walked this path before her accompanied only, according to Lieutenant Kenmore, by an Ancestor.  Did they feel the same haunting sense that the people from Dorane’s reliquary had when they were being led to their punishment?  Or were they proud as they walked here, trusting in their faith in the Ancestor that followed them in here as a supervisor, faith in that Ancestor’s goodness?

The sensory deprivation is total but just barely not enough for Teyla’s heightened senses, but it is only due to Teyla’s own deep perceptions of her own body.  She can feel the angle of descent the path under her feet is taking.  But the air is not chilling as she feels herself descend rather steeply if she is calculating right.  Then there is another spotlight at the end of the tunnel’s path, highlighting another door, with a short podium, the sort the Ancestor that had returned from a sublight voyage to reclaim Atlantis had summoned from the city’s gateroom floor, stands in front of it emitting its own light.  Teyla slows her pace and feels her friends walk closer to her back.  She steps up to the podium.  They wait as she stares down at the podium’s blank and empty surface.  Teyla looks back then tries to peer around Sheppard, he takes the hint and moves aside to give her a clear view of Lieutenant Kenmore standing some steps behind them.  Kenmore doesn’t say anything.  It is as Teyla figured it would be, as she had wanted it to be, she has to do it alone.  Teyla turns back to the podium, not seeing the measuring look Sheppard gives the Lieutenant before returning his attention to protecting his friend should the need arise to save her from herself.

What was it the Lieutenant had said in Nemesis’ lab?  Suddenly Teyla presses her hand, palm-down and spread, onto the top of the podium.  She hears Rodney flinch beside her.  But she does not catch on fire.  Instead, the podium lights up entirely.  The spotlight on the door goes dark.  They look up.  The door’s frame is glowing now.  Illuminating every facet, every groove, of the Ancient design in brilliant blue so that the door looks like this heavenly gateway.  Like a gift from the Ancestors.  The podium retreats into the ground.  Teyla steps forward with her team following close behind her.  No sooner does she step up to the door then suddenly a medallion the size of her head lights up at her eye level.  There is the strangest image she has ever seen inside its circle.  It is another circle like the ring of the Ancestors but there is no whirlpool in the middle just these strange geometric shapes, some cut off, some not, and five small glowing holes.  Teyla glances back at the Lieutenant again.  Again there is no answer.  No sign of the Lieutenant planning on giving her aid either.  Teyla returns to facing the medallion.  She sees, out of the corner of her eye, Rodney start to reach out to the medallion and once again she remembers the Lieutenant’s words.  Suddenly Teyla moves much faster than Rodney’s tentative reach forward and plunges her fingertips into the five holes.  As Rodney flinches beside her with a hiss, Teyla suddenly hears a locking mechanism click inside the door.  Pressure wraps around each of her fingertips.  Teyla tries to pull out her fingers but they won’t come.

Rodney silently panics beside her, afraid to breath, afraid to make a sound in case that is the fire’s trigger.  His hands panic in the middle of the air between him and her.  He wanted to help her but is so afraid that it is going to set her on fire.  Behind her, she hears Ronon’s weapon power up, undoubtedly being pointed at the Lieutenant.  And she has no doubts either that John behind her is equally aiming his own weapon at the Lieutenant but torn between wanting to kill the Lieutenant and seeking to aid Teyla.  But Teyla couldn’t let them kill the Lieutenant, not until she knew everything about this place, everything the Lieutenant had discovered so far about this place.  She can’t let them kill her, she needed to know everything that had happened to her people here.  Trying, Teyla turns her wrist, trying to wriggle out as best as she can that way and suddenly the inner circle of the medallion turns with the movement of her hand.  She breathes as she hears Ronon’s weapon power down.  This is it, this is the next step in the journey.

Teyla begins to turn the medallion more and more.  As she twists, some of the geometric shapes align, some don’t.  But she notices something about these shapes.  They are the writing of the Ancestors.  There were words here.  Meanings she knows well.  Teyla starts thinking of the old stories her father used to tell her…she starts thinking of Charin, the other villagers.  Searching her mind for any keys words, phrases that would help her now that she has trapped herself here like this.

Then suddenly it all comes back to her.  The words of the song she had sung at Charin’s funeral…at her father’s funeral only days ago.  Beyond the night…Teyla peers at the medallion, was it really that simple and yet all so complicated?

Teyla turns the medallion and as before some of the symbols align and some do not and remain broken, but Teyla freezes there in the spot she has chosen and keeps the inner circle there, confident in her choice.  After a moment, the pressure releases her fingertips.  Teyla pulls her hand free and hears the satisfying sound of the door unlocking.  Then it splits open revealing a small, wide, circular room sparsely decorated like a lab in the lower levels of Atlantis.  Strangely, it reminds Teyla of the lab in which they had discovered an elderly woman whom they thought to be an Ancient left behind by her fellow Ancestors but had instead turned out to be a ten thousand year-old Doctor Elizabeth Weir.  But rather than the wall ahead of her harboring a stasis unit with an old woman inside of it, the wall is a set of staggered steps lined completely with candles.  Brightly, serenely burning cream-colored candles.  The same sort Teyla and her people use for their meditations.  Teyla isn’t sure what she had expected to see but whatever it had been, someplace that reminds her of a peaceful, tranquil refuge was not it.  She feels her friends press closer against her and she steps further into the center of the room.  Teyla gasps but manages to hold her balance as suddenly the inner circle of the floor rises up a step above the level she had been on.  The candles’ flames burn brighter, larger…like they are greeting her.

“Let me guess.  This is where that woman’s arm caught on fire,” Rodney says.

“Yep,” Kenmore nods, “Turns out she picked the wrong flame.”

Teyla turns to ask what the Lieutenant means when she realizes that there are two stasis chambers in the room guarding either side of the entrance.  They’re empty though and it looks like they are meant to be that way.  However their interiors aren’t what captures Teyla’s slightly open-mouthed attention exactly, it’s the reflections in their transparent glass.  She sees the flames of the candles gleaming brightly back at her with their creamy-orange light, all except for one that shines the same bright, brilliant blue as the door’s frame had glowed.  Teyla looks back at the actual candles.  She sees no blue light among them, she looks back at the reflection, but there is one there.

“What’s wrong,” John stares at her, alarmed by her looking back and forth.

Teyla looks back at the real candles.

“One has a blue flame.  I need to find the one with the blue flame.”

She looks back at the reflections, steps back further on the central raised platform, and starts analyzing the reflections for any indications they can give her.  She can count what step the blue flame is on, but in what row of candles on the step and what column is more difficult.  The candles may all be of the same width but are of varying heights.  Their flames’ glares are bright, slightly blinding and blurring her vision.  She has to focus, she has to concentrate.

John doesn’t like this.  He starts to lift his leg to step up on the raised platform with her.  Teyla flings out her hand at him…

“No,” she orders him.

John freezes.

“I must do this alone,” she tells him.

John still doesn’t like this but he puts his foot back down on the ground.  He still trusts Teyla’s judgment but…he glances back at Kenmore waiting by the door, it’s warning enough.  Then he goes back to watching Teyla.  If she needs him, he’s here. But John doesn’t do well sitting on the sidelines.

Teyla gathers herself, stares at the candle she believes to be the one she is supposed to find, but the imagined image of a member of the Atlantis Expedition’s arm catching on fire makes the hint of self-doubt she usually suppresses become a nagging feeling she finds she cannot quiet in herself.  Teyla looks back at the reflections and watches her own reflection in the glass slowly extend her hand out and start to move it towards the blue flame.  Suddenly a sweep of blue light passes from right to left across the threshold right in front of Sheppard and the reflections in the glass of the stasis chambers vanish and show only the illuminated interiors of the still empty chambers.  Teyla gasps as she straightens up, yanking her hand away from the candles in case she was reaching for the wrong one.  She does not want to die set on fire here but now there is nothing to help her except for her own instincts.  She looks to her friends for help.  John catches the look in her eye and starts to move again to help her…

“You can’t do that,” Kenmore’s voice comes from behind him.  He turns on her.

“You knew that was going to happen,” she keeps silent facing the raging John Sheppard unable to reach Teyla, “and you didn’t say anything,” he shouts at her.

“I couldn’t.  That’s how Djajej’s arm caught on fire,” she says coolly and calmly; she could be practically Vulcan sometimes damn it, “Whatever systems operate this challenge view any voice other than the recognized performers voice speaking while it observes the performer’s movements indicating they’re in the final process of choosing the flame as a violation and automatically renders the correct flame null and void.”

“It thinks you’re helping her pick the flame,” Rodney says.

“Yep,” Kenmore nods at him.

“But I asked her what was wrong before and she answered me?”

Kenmore nods, “And as soon as she uttered the words about the blue flame, that’s when the test officially started and the systems start observing with intent.  After that anyone else’s voice other than Miss Emmagan’s would render the test a cheat until the field comes across,” John looks back at Teyla, “She’s truly alone in there.  We’re not allowed to help her now.”

Ronon looks back at Kenmore.

“You’ve been talking a lot.  Why isn’t she on fire now?”

Kenmore looks at him.

“Because that blue sweep was a force field being activated across the threshold.  It seals her in there and it’s sound-proof.  She can’t hear us in there.  We could scream ‘Pick Door Number 3’ at the top of our lungs right now and the computer running this test would simple read us as running our mouths.”

“And if we touch the force field,” he asks, picking up on Sheppard’s intent as his friend eyes the field out of the corner of Ronon’s eye.

“She goes up like a Roman candle.  Fwoosh,” Kenmore makes a sort of single-handed exploding gesture with her sound effect.

Sheppard looks back at her with a deep seated glare and fingers his weapon.  God, of all times he really wanted to blow a hole through the dangerous, obnoxious little brat right now, but it might be her that’s ends up being the only one able to get Teyla out of there, dammit.  His blood is boiling, it’s never done that before, he’s never felt like this before.  He takes a deep breath then…

Teyla watches as John starts screaming like armed fury incarnate at the Lieutenant who is taking it calmly, but this is not helping Teyla, here…now.  She wants to hit the force field but thinks better of it.  When the Replicators had trapped her and the rest of her team as well as Mister Woolsey and General O’Neill, they had discovered that the force fields projected in between the metal bars of their cell stung significantly more than they had previously thought they would.  And, after all, Lieutenant Kenmore has been very secretive about how a fellow member of their Expedition had caught on fire while performing this test.  Teyla stares at John as he starts to take slow, menacing steps closer and closer to the Lieutenant who maintains her position and ease standing beside the closed only entrance into the room.  She cannot take it anymore…

“Stop it.  Just stop it,” Teyla yells at them.

John looks back at her suddenly, clearly shocked.

Kenmore watches the back of Sheppard’s head as his brain metabolizes what he just heard.  After a moment he looks back at her again.

“You didn’t say we could hear her.”

Kenmore nods again, “Tread lightly Colonel, it’s still monitoring what we’re saying,” she caught sight of Ronon shifting about, itching to do something with his hands to draw Teyla’s attention towards him, “and how we’re moving,” the Satedan looks back at her, “No cheating.”

Rodney looks at Teyla and what he can see of the area she’s trapped in, “Only one person at a time can do it…under supervision,” he turns to look back at Kenmore, “You never said that the Ancient supervisor wasn’t a person.”

“Oh there was a physical Ancient supervisor required, apparently someone had to come in and take out the torched bodies.”

“And now Teyla could be one of those bodies,” Sheppard snaps.

“Not if both she and we play by the rules.”

“It’s not a game.”

“Not to any of us, Colonel, but this place would beg to differ and there’s six casualties so far that would back that up.”

“Six about to be seven,” Ronon comments.

“Wait, six,” Rodney mildly panics, “You only mentioned one.  What happened to the other five?”

“Problems with the other tests.”

“What problems,” John takes another menacing step towards her.

“John stop.”

He turns at Teyla’s order and she faces him.

“I know what I am doing.”

With that Teyla turns and stares again at the candle she had chosen before and it’s comforting, inviting, creamy orange flame.  She starts to step towards it.

The others watch tensely, except for Kenmore, whose ease seems permanent.

“What happened to the others,” Rodney asks as Teyla slowly approaches the steps of candles.

“Two got frostbite in their hands from what we call the Water test.”

“How’d they get frostbite?  It’s not cold enough anywhere near here for that except maybe at the top of the mountains.”

“At the top of the left tower of this place is another Ancient chair, it’s a time machine.”

The three men look back at her.

“A time—you could—did you,” McKay stumbles into catatonic breathlessness.

Kenmore shakes her head at him before he can form whatever words or phrases he was to floored to form, “It only takes you back through three different time periods:  ten billion years ago, a billion years ago, and two hundred-fifty million years ago.”

“So—“

“No, anytime you get out of the chair, it,” Kenmore snaps her fingers, “pops you right back to this time period and standing right back in front of the chair like it’s a transporter.  You don’t get to talk to any Ancients.  You don’t get to pass ‘Go.’  You don’t get to collect two hundred ZPMs.”

Rodney glares at her, his demeanor one of exasperation.

“Just get in, do whatever you’re supposed to do, get out,” Kenmore finishes.

“And what are you supposed to do,” Sheppard asks her as Ronon goes back to watching Teyla still slowly approaching the candles.

Kenmore shrugs, “Beats the hell out of me.”

“I’d like to,” Ronon says under his breath.

“You wouldn’t stand a chance,” Kenmore quickly returns.

He looks back at her and again she isn’t fazed in the slightest by his lethal glare, isn’t backing down from it either.  Reluctantly thinking better of it, really reluctantly, Ronon returns his eyes to Teyla.  Right now his friend needed him.  Kenmore’s really satisfying butt-kicking can wait.

“And the others,” Sheppard asks.

“The Earth challenge.  Sergeant Hobbs almost got crushed at the bottom of a ravine if Daedalus hadn’t beamed her out in time.  She’ll spend most of the next couple weeks barfing her guts out, but other than the prolonged motion sickness caused by the mid-fall beam out, she’ll be fine.  Off the active duty roster for a little while but fine.”

“And the others?”

“Apparently there’s more than one way to die in the Earth challenge other than what the Daedalus scanned and discovered was a dead drop down fifteen hundred miles,” Rodney grimaces at the vivid re-creation of such a thing his imagination conjures up at the Lieutenant’s words, “It’s enough to liquefy a person at the bottom.  Daedalus’s sensors picked up some organic residue to confirm it.  One team member almost drowned to death in a pool so crystalline and dark you couldn’t even tell it was there.  The other bad choice is to drop into a pit of molten lava.  Yeah, we found that out with a MALP rigged up with a DNA sample.  Poor MALP.  Then there’s the Air test where the other two almost gassed themselves into a coma picking the wrong bug,” Rodney stares at her, she holds up her hand and shakes it a little, “Don’t ask,” then Kenmore suddenly tenses up as she stares beyond Sheppard.

The men’s attentions are immediately drawn back to Teyla.  Her outstretched arm, hand spread, fingers poised, is reaching for a flame.  This is it.  Either Teyla goes up in flames or she survives.  Sheppard shifts his grip on his P-90.  Should she need him…

They hold their breaths, even Kenmore.  Then Teyla touches the flame of a short stubby candle fifth one in from the right in the second row on the third step…and nothing happens.

They let their breaths go.  Suddenly a blue sweep of light scans over Teyla like she’s a photocopy then it looks like her whole body is being sucked back through some air vent they can’t see above the entrance to the room like water being sucked away by a vacuum cleaner.  She’s being distorted, torn apart, torn away from them.

“John,” Teyla’s yelp echoes and she’s gone.  Sucked away into the wall itself.

The force field comes down but the three men turn on Kenmore.  Ronon brings the barrel of his gun to bear, aimed right between Kenmore’s eyes.  John’s trigger finger isn’t quite so jumpy but it’s just as ready to go off.  He wanted to know where Teyla is first before he blows away the Lieutenant, regardless of her having a child to go back to in Atlantis.

“Relax,” the Lieutenant utters calmly, her demeanor driving him crazy.  You bet your ass, I’d shoot a Vulcan, “she’s back in the main room.”

Kenmore slowly puts her hand against the metal of the room’s door and it opens easily at her touch.  She holds up her hand and waves it at them, “Remember, the Ancient gene naturally goes back and forth through everything here.”

Sheppard stares at her for a moment then plows right past her, out the door, and back down the hallway.  Teyla is more important to him than the Lieutenant, no matter how mad he is.  God that kid is lucky sometimes.  Rodney runs after him.  Ronon lingers, keeping his gun trained on the Lieutenant, unwilling to let her take up the rear, unwilling to let her get off so easily.  Kenmore rolls her eyes at him with a sigh of put-upon exasperation.

“Fine.  Look, I’ll go through first, okay.  Walk with me.”

He doesn’t respond.  She gives up on the ‘with me’ part and slowly walks through the door, facing him the entire time.  Clearly she’s just as unwilling to be shot in the back as he is to let her go unchecked despite the strong possibility of Teyla being in peril at this very moment.  He follows her, keeping his aim steady the entire time.  As soon as they’re both clear of the door, turning as they came out so that Ronon is now in front, Kenmore slowly reaches back and puts her hand, keeping it in clear view the entire time, on the opened door’s molding part of its frame.  It closes.  They’re plunged into sensory depriving semi-darkness again.  They hear Sheppard’s voice call Teyla’s name echo back down to them from further up the tunnel.  Ronon turns and runs.  The spotlight comes back on in time for Kenmore to see the Satedan’s quickly fleeing back re-disappear back into the darkness down the rest of the tunnel.  Kenmore sighs, again in exasperation, then casually walks after the racing Satedan.

*                      *                      *

Sheppard keeps calling Teyla’s name as he races out of the library and back across the open central courtyard, bolting for the main area as fast as he can.  He breaks into the main room and sees her standing in front of one of those podiums one of the science teams had been working on.  Everyone is staring at her.  She seems shocked to be there more than anything else.  But all John can think of is that she’s safe.

“Teyla,” he calls again.

He takes the stairs and the landing in a few easy strides and in a handful of seconds is by her side.  She’s panting but alright.  But just to make sure…

“Are you alright?”

She nods, breathlessly, still facing the station like she’s unwilling to move in any further way in front of it.

“The journey was…interesting, to say the least,” she looks over and smiles at him.  And John knows everything is alright.  He relaxes as Rodney and Ronon join them and bringing up the rear rather nonchalantly is Lieutenant Kenmore, looking like she’s going for a walk in a park.

“What’d she manage to turn on,” Kenmore asks.

John looks back at her, she’s looking at the technicians on the other side of Teyla.  John works his mouth, he could yell at her for not at least looking at Teyla as she walks in.

“It’s up and running,” one of the technicians bursts out excitedly as she practically leaps to her feet but suddenly her enthusiasm dulls as she looks back at the podium in front of Teyla, “but nothing’s happened,” she glances back at Kenmore, hopeful, “yet.”

Kenmore nods at her then comes up beside Teyla and looks down at the lit up podium with a blank, glassy top.  Nothing, she harrumphs.  Sheppard glares at her.

“I take it you knew this was going to happen too,” he growls through gritted teeth as Teyla returns to staring down at the top of the podium waiting for something, anything to happen.  She’s come this far, why is this not showing her what else had happened to her people?  What final test had they been put through here before they were sent to their horrific deaths at the hands of the Asgard and the Ancestors that aided them?  What is the term the people of Earth sometimes used, ah yes…God damn it!

Kenmore looks over at him.

“Yeah, Major Novelo was the first person to get through the test successfully, but nothing happened when he got here.  The podium didn’t even light up.  He was just transported,” she gestures up and down at Teyla, “here.”  The Lieutenant let’s her arms fall to her sides.

“So that means this thing’s broken.  You sent her through a broken transporter.  It could’ve ki—“

Teyla’s hand shoots out in the middle of Sheppard’s build to an almighty ripping and plants itself confidently on top of the podium just like she had with the other podium in front of the door.  They all freeze and stare.  Almost instantly there’s a blue sweep of light that scans her hand from bottom to top then, as soon as that goes away, Teyla feels a sharp prick in her index finger.

“Ow,” she yelps and yanks her hand away.

Teyla looks down at the palm-side of her hand.  There is a big drop of deep red blood blooming from her middle fingertip.  She looks back down at the surface of the podium, on a lit up grid just like the scanner that had accepted the scan of her eye but not the others in the Asgard facility is a smudge of her blood.  As she watches, the podium’s glass seems to absorb the smudge of blood, sucking it into the glass and somehow below the crystalline pane.  Beneath the glass she sees the blood become encapsulated in something she cannot see but must be there, unless the pearl of blood is acting under the influence of the viscous weightlessness of space.  The podium’s interior lights up almost blindingly with white light like the sort that happens with the Asgard beaming technology then everything goes dark again and there is no more blood nor any sign that it had ever been there.

“Oh dear Lord, tell me that didn’t just go to someplace with Asgard still—“

“Lorie and the Daedalus already checked the other locations.  There are no more Asgard outposts like that out there anymore.  They’re all abandoned.  Well—now they’re all abandoned,” Kenmore cuts McKay off.

“What do you mean ‘like that’?  There are more Asgard out there?”

“At the last place Daedalus went to, it’s still orbiting it in fact while Lorne’s team beamed over to the next location, there was a holographic war being simulated both in orbit and on the ground using technology I believe two Expedition members discovered, kind of like this grid of holographic generators with a main console that tells people how to cut their hair, what sort of clothes to wear, where to find food, who’s face to stick on their flags, what technologies to advance.  Like, oh say, zeppelins with nukes?”

She looks pointedly at Sheppard and McKay, standing side by side.  Rodney looks sufficiently like a censured puppy while Sheppard just works his mouth, pissed as hell, Damn it she even scored a point on me that time!

“When they got to snooping around, they found that the outpost was receiving transmissions and when they tried to find out where those transmissions were coming from, they went silent, no trail, no nothing.  Just space noise.  So…those transmissions, in the Asgard language, had to come from someplace.  They’re still out there, I just cut off their last old processing line.”

Great, John looks at the podium, yet another enemy even more pissed off at us now than they had been before.

Suddenly Kenmore’s shoulder radio crackles…

“Uh, hey Urs,” Lorne’s somewhat concerned voice comes through staticy from being funneled through two stargates, thousands of light-years of distance, and the Daedalus’ radio systems as well as Kenmore’s own, “One of the computer consoles here just lit up and something beamed in using Asgard tech.  When we checked it out, it was a blood sample, small but enough for the computer to register it as a positive.  Now the computer wants us to reply.  I’ve got red and purple buttons here.  What do you want us to do?”

“Let it go through,” Kenmore orders into her shoulder radio, “Press the purple.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay.”

They wait in silence, everyone in the room watching the podium, except for Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard…he’s eyeing Lieutenant Kenmore, his mouth still working.

“If anything happens to her—,” he begins to warn.

“Bite me Captain America,” Kenmore says keeping her eyes focused on the podium.

Ronon eyes Sheppard and Sheppard catches the glance, Do you want me to shoot her?  John is honestly preparing to reject the unspoken offer in lieu of the fact that he wants to be the one to Swiss cheese the snot when suddenly the podium lights up to full power like some sort of weird beacon and a projection shoots out and blooms from the podium’s glass top.  The tiny faces of people from hundreds of little videos lined up side by side in dozens of rows and columns talk in hundreds of happy, excited voices all at once in front of Teyla.  My people that have gone before me.  As the technicians scramble around her, she looks at the faces of her own that had been stolen away from their homeworld to be sent to a place worse, in her opinion, than the bowels of a hiveship.  But they are all so happy, so proud.  Some of the overjoyed faces speak of the pride that they are bringing to their families for being chosen, for passing the Ancestors’ test.  It is all so…disturbing.  So disgusting.  Her stomach churns not with revulsion but with anger.  A sheer unadulterated rage that she has only felt previously for a Wraith hybrid named Michael when he attacked her unborn child in what should have been the safety of her womb with his own hideous experiments.  When she had the opportunity, when her son was safe, she fought Michael with that rage in defense of her child, her family, her friends, her home, and kicked him off the top of the city.  Teyla feels her body trembling…What she will do to these Ancestors, these Asgard, if she is given the opportunity.

“They’re recordings,” the technician practically shouts as she looks down at the computer tablet in her hands then she looks up at the rest of their waiting faces, except for Teyla’s whose sickeningly furious focus is still zeroed in on the collection of videos, some now repeating, some not, “apparently every person who passed the test and the genetic evaluation got to record a message.”

“Why isn’t Teyla recording a message,” Sheppard asks as McKay snatches the tablet out of the female scientist’s excited grasp, leaving her a little crestfallen, and beginning his own investigation.

“Because,” Rodney answers, “we’ve managed to screw up the wiring inside.  Instead of recording a message, she can now access all of the other previously recorded messages.  Which is…when you look at it, not really that bad after all.”

They look to the Athosian leader again.  Teyla chooses to look at John when she finally does chose to look over at someone.  He nods at her; they’re with her, all the way.  He sees the determination in her eyes, the chilly fire.  No one is going to stop her, she won’t let them.  She looks over at Kenmore looking over all the videos.  After a moment, Kenmore returns Teyla’s attention.  The Athosian waits.  Kenmore nods.

“Go ahead.  Pick one,” she tells her.

Teyla looks back at the projected wall of talking happy faces.  Her people gone before.  She closes her eyes, breathes, opens her eyes, and reaches out…

THE END.

Posted in Season Six- Episode Three | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment