The Saints of Atlantis 8
“What’s a cathedral?” Ronon asked.
“I think it means temple Ronon,” Teyla said. “I think he’s right. Look at the designs around the windows. Doesn’t that look like the mark of the mila poppaaem?”
“Ok, those last two words were Ancient, right? Does anyone know what they mean?” Sheppard asked. The group had spread out around the room, looking at the various wall panels.
“Best translation would be: soldier-priests,” Murphy said, running his hands reverently across what had to be the altar. “Sort of like the Knights Templar during the Crusades.”
“The mila poppaaem were said to be charged with tending the people and destroying all evil,” Teyla said, “so that good could spread throughout all the worlds.”
Only Ronon noticed how the brothers stiffened up at Teyla’s words. He added his own knowledge of the Ancient Order. “Most of the militaries on the more advanced worlds like to believe they are descended from the mila poppaaem, but it’s doubtful that’s true. None have the Ancient gene and none in any of our histories have the gift of seeing evil.”
“Oh please, like evil is something that someone can just reach out and touch. Evil is completely intangible. There’s nothing to see with your eyes. The entire concept of evil is totally subjective,” Rodney said, starting on one of his ‘these people are so stupid I can’t believe’ rants.
“Shut your fucking mouth!” Murphy told him.
“Not another word!” Conner said as well. This made them the focus of attention from everyone in the room. Conner sighed. “It’s dead serious business, not something to make light of. From what these two,” he waved at Ronon and Teyla, “just said, these are the Ancients that are mine and Murphy’s ancestors.”
“And we are still called to battle evil to this day,” Murphy said. “Destroy all that which is evil, so that which is good may flourish.”
“It is our duty to teach our children to fight and to pray because we never know who will be called to do what,” Conner said. “Not even the most careful of examinations of health or character can show who the Lord will pick as his next shepherds.”
“Aye, some of the most gentle have become the fiercest warriors, the laziest become the most dedicated when they hear the call.” Murphy was showing his stubborn side. If he was going to be forced to expose himself, then he was going to do it right.
Sheppard made the connection. “That’s why you two are vigilantes,” he said. “It’s a family tradition isn’t it?”
“Yes and no. About half of our family takes up the work in one way or another. Usually most are called to the priesthood or life as a nun, but we’re talking about his shepherds. We’re taught what to do if we’re called and we make sure to pass those lessons on, that is family tradition. But we mean it literally when we say we’re called to do this work,” Murphy said seriously. “We don’t like to talk about it because most people would think we’re crazy.”
“I’d have to agree with that one,” Rodney snarked.
“Doctor McKay, my brother and I do have similar dreams, we’re twins after all, but we had never had an identical dream before that night, much less one that literally jerked us up out of our beds at the exact same time. We weren’t sure the next morning, but the minute we saw someone else for the first time after the dream, we saw the marks and we knew what they meant,” Conner said with passion.
“We could read them, tell who was an evil man and what he’d done and who wasn’t,” Murphy said earnestly. “Ask Romeo about what he’s seen us do, how accurate we are when it comes to identifying evil men.”
ART1 turned to Romeo, who nodded seriously. “They’re 100 percent accurate, no matter who it is, or just how obscure the crime is. Hell, they even called it on the mad bomber on board the Daedalus and the snake thing that was in Caldwell, although they still won’t tell me more than the little grey dude got drunk. You can ask Lorne, he was helping me keep an eye on the bomb maker.”
“Huh,” Sheppard said, filing the information in the back of his mind.
“So, would that make two of you Boston’s Saints?” Cadman asked casually. “Those are the only vigilantes that I know of with a perfect record.” Sheppard shot her a glare, but honestly he wanted to know as well, and not just for their bet.
“Actually, all three of us are the current Saints of South Boston,” Murphy said. “We’ve always been a triad from the very first, well almost.”
“Aye, Roc joined us as we were clearing out from our first hit. Then when he was killed, Da joined us. Romeo signed on when we told Da to stay home, not that he listened.” Conner shrugged. Mentioning Rocco still hurt.
“Can’t blame Da though, fucking bastard was setting us up again just to get at him, like the fucker hadn’t done enough damage sending Da to prison for twenty five to life,” Murphy growled.
Everyone watched as Cadman turned a brilliant grin on Sheppard and he groaned. “Alright, you’ll get the coffee as soon as I unpack it.”
“You bet coffee on whether or not these guys were one specific group of vigilantes? Are you crazy, Sheppard?” Rodney yelped.
“She put up a bag of snickers, besides these two are from Ireland. I thought there was no way it could be true,” Sheppard answered.
Rodney wavered a moment. “Still, that’s no reason to put up coffee for your end!”
“Relax Rodney. It was the stuff you say is crap and won’t drink unless there’s nothing else. I saved the good stuff, I promise.” Sheppard winked over McKay’s shoulder at Cadman. He knew perfectly well that Cadman preferred Folgers to McKay’s expensive, gourmet beans. She had said that the only time she’d appreciated just how different the two were was when it was McKay’s mouth that had done the drinking. When she’d gotten her own body back, she still couldn’t taste the difference.
While Sheppard and McKay were arguing over the bet, and the stakes, Romeo, Ronon and Teyla went back to walking around the cathedral while the twins turned back to the altar. “Sheppard, over here,” Ronon called.
“Whatcha got?” Sheppard said as he walked over. McKay had gone back to trying to get readings on the structure. Cadman had gone to follow Romeo around, and the twins were following Sheppard.
“Looks like one of those hidden doors,” Ronon said, gesturing at a bit of artwork.
Sheppard looked and nodded. The Ancients liked to hide things in the very walls of their city. Sometimes it was simply a drawer or two, sometimes it was entire rooms. Ronon had gotten good at finding the hidden entrances, mostly because he was so good at noticing details. Sheppard reached out to trigger the door, but stopped before his hand connected. Atlantis had stubbornly refused to allow anyone to enter this tower until the twins had arrived, and they had just found out that the McManus family was still adhering to an Ancient code more than 10,000 years old. Some things should only be opened by the right people, and apparently Atlantis thought the McManus brothers were the right people to open this tower.
“McManus, both of you come here,” Sheppard waved the men forward. “One of you put your hand right there and think ‘open’.”
The twins looked at each other, shrugged and stepped forward, putting their tattooed hands where the Colonel had pointed. Automatically they’d fallen into the familiar stance, which only helped them to use their connection to think in unison. With no more than a whisper of sound, the door that Ronon had known was there opened, and without hesitation, they stepped through the open doorway.
It was an armory of small hand weapons, not all of which were technologically advanced. Hand axes vied for wall space with knives and daggers, rows of display type cases held projectile weapons of every kind from simple bows to something that looked very similar to a nine millimeter hand gun but had no bore for a bullet to travel out of, but it was the back wall that caught the attention of those who had any knowledge of the weapons used at the SGC. “Rodney, is that what I think that is?” Sheppard asked breathlessly.
McKay nodded. “It’s a wall full of zats. There are enough weapons in this one room to outfit our people half a dozen times over with hand weapons, and I’m not talking just here in Atlantis, I mean the people we’ve got on the mainland too.” He hurried over to the wall and began scanning it. “It’s a recharging station! They’re all fully active.”
He didn’t notice Teyla’s gentle smile at his inclusion of her people in McKay’s thoughts of ‘our people’. The hunters could use some of these weapons when hunting the herd animals and fowl on the mainland, perhaps with all of these weapons to protect the hunting parties, she could even get Elizabeth to let them hunt on other worlds. There were some delicacies that she hadn’t eaten in years. She was putting off thinking about what had been discovered about these new men’s family, and she knew it made her a coward, but right now she couldn’t handle the ramifications.
“So, what do they do?” Ronon asked. He’d been looking over some of the knives on the wall.
“One shot stuns, two shots kills, oh and you’ll love this Conan, three shots disintegrate,” McKay said, bouncing on his toes with a huge grin on his face.
Murphy and Conner immediately reached up and grabbed two zats each. “Here, like this,” Cadman showed them how to work the energy weapons with one she grabbed. After careful consideration, the twins figured out a way to hang the zats on their holsters. It wasn’t the prettiest solution, but it worked and that was what they cared about. The grin on McKay’s face matched the ones on their faces, and suddenly they laughed and ran back into the altar room.
Murphy went right and Conner went left, feeling as they hurried along the walls, listening for the slightest hint from Atlantis. Soon each wall yielded up its secrets. Every wall that made up the outside walls of the tower, save the wall that held the entrance chamber, held a room filled with more weapons or something to do with weaponry.
The twins met in the center, and leaned against each other’s back. “Oh fuck, this is so beautiful,” Murphy said. He was fighting tears. Now he finally understood Romeo’s reaction to his pistols.
“Aye, I wish Da could have lived long enough to see this,” Conner whispered. “Now there’s just one thing left and this place will be perfect.”
“What’s that?” Ronon asked. As far as he was concerned the sheer amounts of weaponry made this place as good as the place the priests of his home world had said the Ancestors went to.
“A good drink,” they chorused.
“Well, I’m sorry to tell you this, but right now all we’ve got is Zelenka’s smurf piss. It’s just one step up from rotgut. On the other hand, it’s so damned strong you’ll be begging for some of Holling’s mild almost beer,” Sheppard grinned. It seemed he was right; this tower was their place and no one else’s.
“Irish car bombs,” Murphy suggested, “or at least as close as we can get here.”
“Aye little brother, let’s go celebrate,” Conner said, his right arm thrown over Murphy’s shoulder.
“You don’t know that, Ma still won’t tell us,” Murphy growled.