Fic: Vermicular Confusion: VI of VII (second half)
Title: Vermicular Confusion part VI of VII (yes, I was trying to keep it to 6 parts, but...I uh, suck and now it shall be 7)
Previously: part I || part II || part III || part IV || part V
Author: me! the Oparu
Rating: R to be safe, there's some sex...
Pairings:Sheppard/Weir, Crusher(Beverly)/Picard, Riker/Troi
Universes:Season 3 STTNG, Season 2 SGA
Notes: Been forever since I updated, but in my defense, I moved 17 hours worth of timezone. I also decided to go epic and enjoy my own little universe of doom. ;)
On the bridge of the Enterprise, reaching across universes through a feat of interstellar slight of hand he still wasn’t sure he entirely understood, Jean-Luc tried not to fidget in his chair. Geordi, Data and Doctor McKay had put their minds together and found a small quantum singularity that could be used to bounce a signal through to the universe John Sheppard had dubbed the ‘gateverse’. Jean-Luc’s own universe was called ‘trekverse’ after a dramatic program commonly watched in the ‘gateverse’. The names were crude but they saved a great deal of time.
Jean-Luc tapped his fingers anxiously on the arm of his chair and Worf hailed the city again. “Atlantis, this is the Federation starship Enterprise. Please respond. Commander Riker, Doctor Crusher, Counselor Troi, please respond. Repeat. This is the Federation starship Enterprise. We believe we have a way to cross into your universe. If you are receiving this message, please respond.”
“Captain-” Worf’s gruff baritone interrupted the heavy silence on the bridge. “Captain, we are receiving a signal. Radio waves.”
Geordi shook his head from the engineering console behind Worf and crossed to examine tactical. “Old style, early twenty-first century. There’s some distortion from the micro wormhole, but the comm is holding. Translators aren’t going to work though. Too much time distortion.”
Finally letting himself leave his chair, Picard straightened his uniform jacket and nodded. “On speaker.”
A woman’s voice was polite and controlled. Jean-Luc caught the word ‘Atlantis’ and wondered if it was just a distortion of his own message cruelly bounced through time.
“Sir,” Worf reported unbidden. “The translation matrix reports she is speaking in an old Earth language common in the twenty-first century.”
“Mandarin?” Picard wondered.
“English,” Worf answered. “We may be able to program the translator to compensate for the time fluctuations of the wormhole but it will take some time.”
“If you’ll allow me, sir.” Data offered. Jean-Luc spared a moment on the irony of a language barrier. To all the gateverse visitors, surrounded by Starfleet officers wearing universal translators, everyone on the Enterprise spoke flawlessly in their native tongue. Normally the computer could compensate, but with the distortion the initial message had been in Federation standard, something these humans had no knowledge of.
At Picard’s nod, the android spoke calmly in the ancient language. “Atlantis, this is the Enterprise--”
“Data!”
The familiar voice cut through the bridge like the flare of a supernova.
“Beverly-”He nearly choked on her first name; the lump in his throat was so intense. “Doctor Crusher?”
“Jean-Luc,” she sighed and the relief was palpable. He could even picture her glowing smile. “You found us.”
“I hope you never doubted us,” he said drolly trying to regain his composure. “Please inform Atlantis that we have a Colonel Sheppard, Doctor McKay, Mister Dex and Miss Emmagen who are all in excellent health and anxious to return home.”
The female voice spoke in the background. Jean-Luc thought he could hear the relief in her voice, even though her words were unfamiliar. After a moment, Beverly translated. “Doctor Weir, the leader of Atlantis, says that’s excellent news, sir.” The last word seemed like an afterthought, but it suggested the shock of being saved had worn off.
“With her permission,” Jean-Luc began. “We’re working on a way to bring everyone home. We require access to their database, specifically the information concerning the Stargate wormhole phenomenon.” He couldn’t remember getting to his feet and hoped he hadn’t jumped up too abruptly from his chair. He forced himself to stand still behind Data. “Can we establish a remote connection?” He asked the android while Beverly translated on the other end.
“Captain, Doctor Weir warns that the computer has a very large database,” Beverly said after a moment. “It is also in a language called Ancient. I’ll try to explain to her that our computer can handle it.”
Jean-Luc waved his hand unnecessarily and chastised himself for doing it. “Thank you doctor.” Turning back down to Data, he tried to formulate a plan. “Can you write an algorithm to search and download only what we need?”
Data paused then nodded when the thousands of complex calculations were done. “Complete, sir.” He input it quickly into the computer and tilted his head before waiting for the involuntary facial cues he recognized in his captain’s face as permission to ask a question.
Jean-Luc almost smiled and inclined his head. “Yes Data?”
“I find it fascinating that in the universe we are calling the gateverse, the myth of Atlantis was true and that an advanced race actually constructed such a vessel,” Data remarked as they walked up to join Geordi and Worf in the rear of the bridge. “That is surely a marvel of technical skill. As is their development of slipstream technology and artificial wormholes capable of transporting them across galaxies. If it is possible to study their information in detail, Starfleet could learn much from their technology.”
“I wonder if their evolution paralleled that of the Ikonians. The gateway technology would be similar. If we have time for scientific study,” Jean-Luc replied easily. “I shall see that you have the opportunity to do so.
Allowing himself the luxury of hope, Jean-Luc turned back towards Worf and Geordi. “After we establish a link with their computer, can we keep it open long enough to get what we need?”
Worf’s huge hands moved lightly over the smooth tactical screen before he brought his eyes back up to the captain’s. “Remote access link is enabled, sir.”
Geordi leaned over the science console and double checked the link. “Data, their database is almost forty times the size of the Enterprise computer. Even if the wormhole data is a small fraction of the city’s database, it could take days to transfer the data.”
“I believe the algorithm to be sufficient,” Data answered evenly. “Considering the impending attack on the city, I shall endeavor to speed the process.”
“Data, contract Doctor McKay and have him assist you with the computer. He may be able to fill in some of the gaps and help you find exactly what we need to know.” Jean-Luc suggested as he tried not to notice the two empty chairs in the central circle of the bridge. Deanna would tell him that worrying for the safety of only three of his officers was not enough to risk being distracted at a crucial moment. Worry would help no one. Will would be amused by a floating city or recount some anecdote of his last vacation on Pacifica. Beverly would have reminded him over breakfast that he would figure it out. Captains of the Enterprise always worked miracles and he was no exception.
Her absence was the most palpable. He’d eaten breakfast in his ready room instead of his quarters for the past three days because breakfast alone in his quarters was unbearably quiet. His only breakfast date with her had been Friday, the first day she was missing. She was supposed to have spent breakfast regaling him tales of her trip to Haguerean Eight. Instead, he’d had to stomach the knowledge that she was missing and that nagged him more than he wanted to admit.
“Still there?” he asked with more lightness than he felt. Walking back to the command chair kept his face from betraying too much to Worf or Geordi. Jean-Luc didn’t think Data would understand, but he would remember.
“Hard to wander off in a floating city,” Beverly’s voice quipped back. “Doctor Weir thinks we’re ready on this end. Don’t suppose you can beam us straight through?”
“Now Beverly,” he mock chastised as he pictured her in the vast floating city John Sheppard had described. “Where would the fun be in that?”
The radio hung silent for a moment and he wondered if he should summon Wesley to the bridge from engineering.
Beverly’s thoughts beat him there. “Jean-Luc. If you can’t- if we can’t make it back--”
“Hey,” he interrupted her sharply. “None of that.”
“Will’s written a letter to his father. Deanna has one to her mother and I-” her voice faltered and his mind’s eye put tears in her blue eyes. “Wesley. I wrote one for Wesley. I-”
“We will bring you home, doctor,” he insisted as firmly as he dared on the bridge. “Beverly--”
“I want you to look after him. Talk to him about girls. Make sure he has some fun at the Academy.”
How many times had he been in this place with her? He’d brought her home when she’d been kidnapped by terrorists. He’d somehow managed to keep her alive on Minos. No universal twist of fate was going to keep her from Wesley. “Wesley will always be able to count on me for whatever he needs but Beverly, I promise you won’t have to turn to me out of desperation. Just keep your chin up.”
Geordi cleared his throat. “We need to terminate the radio link, sir.”
He realized she’d heard Geordi when Jean-Luc heard her sigh heavily. “Doctor, I will see you shortly. You have my word.”
Her voice was still shaky but there was more hope in it now. “Crepes tomorrow then?”
“My treat,” he promised. The signal terminated with a innocent beep of Worf’s panel. The blackness of the quantum singularity on the viewer felt that much more foreboding without her voice.
He took a slow breath before he headed to his ready room. “Gentlemen, I expect to that my breakfast tomorrow will be on time,” Jean-Luc suggested in his most hopeful tone.
To his surprise, Worf seemed to be amused as he answered. “We’ll do our best, sir.”
It felt doubly wrong to have Will, Deanna and Beverly absent with John Sheppard, Rodney McKay, Teyla Emmagen and Ronon Dex filling their places. John was even sitting in Will’s seat to Jean-Luc’s right.
There were similarities between both men, he mused as he half-listened to Doctor McKay’s very technical explanation. John certainly drew his fair share of admiring looks from the crew. He was more reserved than Will, his mock contempt of his position as a leader, covered his deep care for his team. Ronon was a warrior, honorable, quiet and completely dedicated to his mission to eradicate the Wraith. Jean-Luc couldn’t help making the comparison to Guinan’s feelings about the Borg. It was the same type of unflinching commitment.
Teyla definitely commanded his respect. Even as Rodney tried to out-talk Data concerning the ‘gateverse wormholes Data was now an expert on, Teyla looked calm. Her serenity seemed to hang around her like a cloak.
“We will need some way to neutralize the Wraith vessel before it can damage anything in our universe,” Data explained briskly. The lack of variation in his tone between the discussion a genocidal alien race and the modifications to the shields was getting under Doctor McKay’s skin. So was the way Data had yet to react.
“Something big,” John suggested grimly. “Nukes if you have them. Lots of those photon torpedoes if you don’t.”
Jean-Luc pursed his lips and considered their situation. Starfleet would strongly disapprove of his mission to rescue his crew but the Enterprise was enough out that his subspace message describing their plan would not be received until the following day, far too late for them to disapprove. However, they did need a way to neutralize a Wrath vessel and the assistance of another starship would have been ideal.
“Mister Worf,” he began when McKay paused for breath during a lengthy explanation of the Wraith’s weapons capabilities. “Do you think Chancellor Gowron would be willing to test a few Birds of Prey against an previously untried foe?”
The dark Klingon grinned wickedly and nodded once. “I will contact him immediately. We are near enough to the Merota Four colony for several ships to be available.”
Ronon watched Worf as he stood and spoke for the first time in the meeting. “Permission to go with him,” he asked gruffly as he got to his feet. “I don’t know anything about wormholes. I do know how to kill Wraith. I would be proud to teach that to Klingons.”
Jean-Luc met Worf’s dark eyes and then nodded once. “Granted.”
“They better be enough,” Doctor McKay warned darkly. “Trust me, the last thing you want is Wraith getting a foothold in your space.”
“They’re as insidious as the Borg,” John Sheppard added. Surprised he even knew of the existence of the Borg, Jean-Luc stared at the colonel. “Except they don’t want to assimilate you, or turn you into Locutus.”
When all of his crew looked as puzzled as Jean-Luc felt, Sheppard got a strange look in his eyes. “Sorry,” he shrugged weakly. “Wrong universe.” He had a wordless argument with Doctor McKay that ended with a throat cutting gesture before Geordi gently took over the conversation.
“I’d like to suggest that we separate the ship and crew the stardrive section on a volunteer basis,” the engineer began with a softness that betrayed the uncertainties he felt. “We’re pretty sure we can swap the stardrive section of the Enterprise in the same manner the shuttle and the puddle jumper were swapped.”
“The space-altering dynamics of your warp field and the wormhole generated by the Pegasus stargate at that instant were enough to exchange two objects of roughly the same mass that were both out of normal space time,” McKay explained impatiently. “Just like I’ve already said.”
“However, the Enterprise is far too big to fit through a Stargate,” Data added without sharing any of the human’s emotion. “We are going to attempt to duplicate the effect using a precisely timed spread of photon torpedoes. Arming the warheads with subspace inverters tuned to the exact frequency of an incoming wormhole should temporarily extend the containment field of the singularity formed by the Stargate.”
Teyla read the same dread on McKay’s face that Jean-Luc saw. “If we are not exact?”
Geordi blanched slightly before he spoke. “Without the photo torpedoes to redirect our travel, the stardrive section will be forced through a circle approximately six meters in diameter. The reconversion of the ship from energy to matter will be like trying to stuff a shuttlecraft through a torpedo tube at warp two. We’ll be duranium dust.”
“Let’s try to avoid that Commander,” Jean-Luc suggested as he scanned the faces of his crew. “Mister Data, Doctor McKay, Mister LaForge, prepare to separate the ship and program the appropriate spread of torpedoes.
“Aye sir,” Geordi replied. Doctor McKay looked like he intended to say something but a look from Sheppard silenced him.
“Captain Picard,” the colonel began with gravity of someone who knew exactly what he was asking of strangers. “I know your people are trapped in Atlantis, just like we’re stuck here, but I want to thank you. All of you, for risking your lives to save our city.“
“Commander Riker would say it is all part of the service,” Data remarked. After a pause he looked at the leader from the other universe and added, “Sir.”
Jean-Luc wasn’t entirely sure, but he thought Sheppard looked oddly touched. “Colonel Sheppard, I understand you’re a very good pilot. Perhaps you would like a chance to handle the helm in a few simulations while we’re evacuating the ship?”
Sheppard actually smiled and Jean-Luc finally understood why Guinan had compared him to Will Riker. “I’d love to, Captain.”
“I will show him the way,” Data offered with a slight inclination of his white hand. “Please.”
The door of the observation lounge hissed shut behind the the four men as they left together. McKay’s voice carried through the corridor for a few moments as he discussed the warheads of the torpedoes with Geordi.
Teyla had left her chair and stood staring out the window at the still points of starlight. Jean-Luc straightened his uniform as he stood and headed for the replicator. Ordering two cups of earl grey, he handed one to her as he moved to join her.
“Thank you,” she murmured as she blew across the surface. “Were the situation reversed, John would act just as you are. He greatly admires you for that reason.”
Jean-Luc smiled and realized that had been the reason for Sheppard’s quiet agreement. “I cannot leave my crew behind,” he offered simply. If Teyla had been part of his crew he would have guarded his feelings better, however, he couldn’t help feeling that she would have known regardless.
“There is someone in the city he is particularly close to,” Teyla began. Taking a sip of tea, she collected her thoughts with the hot liquid in her mouth before finishing. “You could say he has a personal reason to return.”
Watching his reflection smile wryly in the glass, Jean-Luc wondered just how much time Teyla had spent with Guinan. “Just as I have a personal reason to retrieve my crew?”
She smiled with him. “I believe so,” she said simply. “I will never understand why so much time is wasted by both of your cultures. On my world, feelings are too precious to waste on indecision or fear.“
“Perhaps we’ve grown complacent,” he offered in response as he tried to imagine living a life where he did not have all the time in the universe to find peace with Beverly. “We are rarely reminded how precious the time we are given can be.”
Much like his own mind, Teyla’s thoughts seemed light-years away. “Perhaps someday, my world will share that luxury.”
“Maybe my people will learn to seize the moment,” he replied. Perhaps even starship captains who had carried their secrets far too long, Jean-Luc finished to himself as he let his mind wander out among the stars. When his thoughts inevitably returned to Beverly, he allowed them to remain there.
It wasn’t a puddle jumper, John Sheppard complained silently to himself, but it was almost as much fun to fly, even for something hundreds of times the size. The helm of the stardrive section was nearly instantly responsive and packed a maneuverability that the Daedalus and other Earth ships lacked. The shields were sensitive enough to allow for wild dips and turns and unlike the perfect dampening of the puddle jumper, he could actually feel the Gs.
Ronon and the Klingon, Worf, had beamed over to prepare the crew of the huge green, hungry-looking vessel on the big screen in front of him, the IKS ErethKul, in hand-to-hand tactics. The Klingons enjoyed boarding enemy vessels, and Wraith shields had not proved very effective against transporters. Trying to imagine what Ronon had found to do on a ship full of Klingons was nearly as much fun as flying the Enterprise.
After he’d tested against the Enterprise computer and the two pilots who had volunteered, John had been given the go ahead to fly the stardrive section into combat. He knew the Wraith and he thought he knew where to hit them. John went over the controls again in his head, keeping his eyes closed as he inventoried all the functions of the smooth glass panel.
Many of Picard’s crew had been quick to volunteer, even when the stakes were raised as high as they were. Picard was keeping the numbers small, only willing to risk the personnel he thought were absolutely necessary. A small band of engineers and scientists, including a married pair of Vulcans who insisted that exploration of a new universe was the highest honor for them, Picard’s command crew and one trainee were all that would be aboard.
The young Wesley Crusher had caused a certain amount of debate when he’d insisted on being allowed to go. The prodigy was supposed to be shipped off to somewhere called the Academy soon and his insistence on being part of the suicidal-trans-universal camping trip didn’t set well with Picard. John wasn’t entirely sure how he would have handled it, if the decision had been his.
The older officers knew exactly what they were signing on for. John knew the type who joined intergalactic spaceflights. They had made their choices but Wesley hadn’t even had a chance to come home drunk at oh-two hundred. However, his mother was in the gateverse and something he had said to Picard had changed the captain’s mind. John didn’t want to speculate, he didn’t usually fall into gossip but he’d overheard Guinan answering Geordi’s question as she made the rounds with a tray of hot coffee.
Wesley’s entire family was going on this mission. His mother was in Atlantis. Geordi and Data, both of his tutors, were heading through and the way he shared glares with the captain suggested that Wesley depended on Picard like a father. John wondered if his own father would have looked at him that way with the same mixture of pride, guilt and frustration.
“I can order you to stay behind,” Picard reminded the young man gently.
“Yes sir,” Wesley answered, pain evident in his voice. His shoulders were stiff and if Picard had made the request an order, John knew he would have followed it. Jean-Luc Picard was a Jack O’Neill, a General Hammond or, John’s current personal favorite fictional hero, William Adama. He was the type of man who was a leader when it was most difficult to be. Wondering if he could do that, John pretended not to watch the end of their conversation.
“With respect sir,” Wesley’s voice was sharp as if he was trying too hard to speak. “My father would have gone. I think he would have gone even if I was staying behind.”
Picard straightened stiffly. “Yes, he would have gone because he would have thought he was the best man for the job and refused to leave me alone until he had convinced me. However, he would have wanted you to stay behind. Now, if you were a child, that would be the case, but I find that is no longer the situation. As the adult, I believe you to be, I cannot deny you the right to choose. You will help Doctor McKay modify the torpedoes.”
John wondered how old the boy was when his face broke into a smile. Sixteen? Seventeen? Teyla’s people were considered adults when they were old enough to hunt and protect those weaker than themselves. She’d become an adult at thirteen. John wasn’t sure he even considered himself an adult some days. “Yes sir, thank you sir,” was all Wesley said before the door hissed and signaled his exit from the bridge.
Picard was seated in the center of the battle bridge when John let himself stop pretending to be engrossed in his work. “His mother may not forgive me,” he admitted as he lifted his head from his hands.
“Remind her that he is exactly what she raised him to be,” John suggested as he hovered near the first officer’s chair. He didn’t really belong there, he was much happier being at the helm but he sat for the moment when Picard offered the seat with his hand.
Picard actually smiled dryly. “I have no doubt she will be exceedingly proud of him,” he agreed.
“Maybe that will distract her,” John hoped. His observation earned a tiny smile from the captain as they watched Commanders La Forge and Data appear from the turbolift.
Geordi nodded once purposefully. “Captain, we’re ready.”
After he asked the computer, John found Teyla on holodeck three. He could smell the summer heat and the richness of the air. Walking up the hill towards a small house wrapped in the woods, he found her seated beneath one of the trees.
“We are on your Earth,” Teyla announced without opening her eyes. “I believe this area is known as France. I am reminding myself what we are fighting for.”
John grinned and offered her his hand getting to her feet. “Trees?”
She returned his smirk with a shake of her head. “Yes John, trees,” she replied. “Has Ronon returned?”
“Sickbay,” John explained. Looking around him, he turned to her quizzically when the path he’d come up seemed to lead right into a vineyard.
“Arch, please,” Teyla asked the air. Wrapping her air into his, she let him lead the way to sickbay. “How was he injured?”
As they entered and found Ronon sitting on one of the biobeds, three nasty-looking cuts on his face, a bruised lip and a slowly blackening eye promised more bruises were beneath his clothes. The Vulcan doctor, Selar, one of the volunteers that was coming with them, was repairing the damage to Ronon’s broken collarbone as the huge man grinned like a kid on Christmas morning.
“Training?” John wondered.
Ronon lifted one of the wicked looking, three-pronged daggers sitting on the bed next to him and smiled rakishly at it. “Cultural exchange,” he replied before he closed his eyes to let her repair them. “When I defeat the Wraith,” he announced with deadly certainty. “Should I leave Pegasus, I have found a place to call home.”
“More fun than Atlantis?” John teased and winced when Ronon removed his shirt and exposed what looked like bite marks on his torso.
“More women.”
“Two Wraith ships are still incoming,” Chuck reported apologetically. “No word from the Enterprise.”
Elizabeth stared down at her white knuckles and sighed heavily. That motion of her chest did nothing to to alleviate the knot in her stomach. Someone, Airman Kirahoshi, pressed coffee into her hands, at her left Doctor Crusher accepted a cup as well. The other woman’s hands shook slightly and they shared a look.
“First time the Wraith have tried to kill me,” Beverly said. She sipped her coffee and smiled in surprise. “This is good.”
“We do what we can,” Elizabeth agreed. “Who else?”
“Who?” Beverly repeated before she understood the question. “Anyone who has tried to kill me? Me personally or me as collateral damage?”
Deciding she liked the sarcastic doctor’s wit, Elizabeth watched the graphic of the two Wraith vessels close in on the city. “Either.”
Taking a moment to think, Beverly stared down at her coffee before she stared a list. “The Romulans, the Borg, a flying robot salesman, the Klingons- that was a long time ago, a terrorist called Flynn kidnapped me, a disembodied entity possessed me, and once a crazy, psychopathic Android shot me. A crystalline entity tried to eat the ship, a giant puddle of black goo tried to kill me, Jean-Luc was brainwashed and attacked the ship with a relic. We tripped a radiation trap--”
When the list continued, Elizabeth actually started to smile. “How was being possessed?”
“Boring,” Beverly mock-whispered conspiratorially. “I don’t remember it. The time I was most frightened was when I was being held hostage by the terrorist. The giant puddle of black goo with a temper control problem would have been ridiculous if it hadn’t killed one of my friends.” She paused and grief passed over her face for a moment. Life-sucking aliens with a taste for raw human is definitely a new one.”
Elizabeth felt the knot in her stomach twist become a living thing. “You were saying Captain Picard has excellent timing,” she remembered hopefully.
Beverly gulped her coffee. “A certain ability to work miracles comes with the job.”
Exhaustion seemed to be fighting its way in from the edges of her body while nervousness reached outward from the inside. Neither sensation was pleasant and Elizabeth shuddered.
“Doctor Weir,” Chuck’s voice was a welcome distraction. “We’re receiving another signal from the Enterprise, audio only.”
The voice she didn’t understand, Captain Jean-Luc Picard, spoke from another universe. Something in their translators still wasn’t working and all Elizabeth could hear was the tone of his voice. His sureness and confidence sank into her like the sun on a pleasant day on the mainland.
“About time,” Beverly teased him. The way her face became hopeful instead of simply exhausted suggested Picard had good news. “The Wraith ships are getting close down here.”
“Less than thirty minutes,” Elizabeth explained for her.
Beverly listened to the warm, intelligent sounding voice from farther away than Elizabeth had ever been. “They’re coming. It’s very complicated but they’re coming-”
She didn’t think she’d heard that correctly. “Coming?”
Reaching for Elizabeth’s computer, Beverly traced a line of trajectory across a map of the galaxy with the stylus. “Can you create an incoming wormhole from three-nine mark one-seven-four mark two-five-eight? Or within ten degrees of that direction? The Enterprise should be able to arrive in orbit within a few moments of the establishment of the wormhole.”
Chuck’s voice interrupted her reply. “Doctor Zelenka says the Major’s team needs to dial in from m-three-b, two-eight-eight.”
“The dinosaur planet?” Lorne asked with a shake of his head. “How many rocket launchers can I take with me?”
“Two,” Elizabeth answered with deadly seriousness. “Get your team together.” Taking a moment to think, she bit her lip in frustration. “I don’t want to pull Carson out of the infirmary for the chair.”
“The chair?” Beverly repeated. Exhaustion and excitement made an odd mix in her voice.
“I planned on using Major Lorne in the chair,” Elizabeth explained. Her hands fidgeted unbidden with her now nearly empty coffee mug. “I could move down the line but my people have less experience as I go.”
Beverly seemed to understand as she accepted more coffee from the airman refilling the cups in command. “Deanna did quite well until we shut it off. Then we discovered the effect it has on her.”
Even with the weight of the impending battle on her shoulders, Elizabeth managed a smile. “It really does make her drunk?”
“Psilosine and xerotolemine are the neurotransmitters you associate with the Ancient gene. Using the chair produces large amounts of both of those in Deanna’s brain and they breakdown in her bloodstream.” Beverly said with a trace of amusement. “Usually something like that would just give her a slight headache, but your Carson treated her with an opiate called codeine when we arrived. Deanna’s not human, at least, not entirely, Her mother’s Betazoid and their brains are much more complicated. Opiates and similar drugs have vastly different effects on her species. I’ve given her something to absorb the codeine. She’ll be completely coherent if she ran-flew-controlled, whatever you call it, your chair device again.” Her second cup of coffee had sharpened her tongue. Elizabeth couldn’t help wondering if they even had caffeine in the future.
“Lieutenant Booth,” Elizabeth requested from the commlink. “Can you find Deanna Troi?”
The voice that replied sounded slightly amused. “She’s in her quarters with Riker, sir.”
Beverly chuckled slightly and her blue eyes had a wicked glint in them.
Elizabeth watched even Chuck start to smile and suddenly realize how much of a mess she’d be in if she was ever caught in John’s quarters. That thought was still one of her most guarded fantasies, but a precious one to her. “Can you wake them, politely, and request their presence in the chair room?”
Lieutenant Booth still seemed amused and Elizabeth made up her mind to ask Major Lorne about the young woman’s combat history. “Yes sir. I will retrieve parts of their clothing for them as well, sir.”
Chuck was biting his lip and Beverly was actually laughing at her side. “I’m going to enjoy seeing the looks on their faces. Not as much as I’ll enjoy telling the captain.”
Picard’s voice, his gentle yet completely foreign words cut through the comm system again. Elizabeth wondered if he could hear the laughter in Beverly’s voice as she answered his questions.
“Enterprise needs us to signal when the wormhole has been established,” she translated. “The captain would also like you to know that he will be taking care of one of the Wraith ships immediately and the other should be something the Enterprise can manage. Though any help from the city will be appreciated.”
“I’ll inform the major,” Elizabeth said taking a step back and letting the other woman have a moment if she needed one. Wondering what she’d say to John if it was the last time she’d speak to him, she was almost disappointed when Beverly simply bit her lip and wished him luck.
“Major Lorne just reported in,” Chuck reported from the communications console in the center of command. “It will take him approximately sixty seconds to shut down the wormhole and dial out again.”
“Signal the Enterprise. Lieutenant Booth?” Elizabeth asked next. Her console showed the two Wraith vessels moving ominously towards them in hyperspace.
“Commanders Riker and Troi are in the chair room with me,” the lieutenant reported through the commlink. “Commander Troi is in the chair.”
“But is she sober?” Beverly appeared behind her, arms crossed over her chest. The lilt in her voice suggested she already knew the answer to her question.
Lieutenant Booth reported again. “She’s fine but apparently the doctor’s methods are worse than a hangover.”
“I’ll have to apologize when this is over,” Elizabeth said nodding and trying to file it in her memory.
“Major Lorne is dialing in,” Chuck reported a moment before the bright green lights started to chase each other round the stargate. The sight was still new enough to startle Beverly. Her hands gripped the rail looking out over the atrium. The first six lights lit up and as the last one locked, the sky above the city exploded.
“Wraith ships are dropping out of hyperspace--” Chuck’s voice was swallowed up in a roar of energy.
In a perfect circle of bright green light, some kind of explosion, the Enterprise’s complicated plan blew a green hole into the atmosphere of the planet. Shielding her eyes from the stabbing pain of the light, Elizabeth brought her eyes to the display. For a moment, she saw two Wraith ships, bearing down on the city.
Suddenly, one of them vanished, popping out of existence like a bad dream while something else appeared in its place. Whatever it was, it was almost the size of the other Wraith ship but shaped very differently. Instead of the pointed nose and horizontal stripe of engines in the rear of the ship like most vessels Elizabeth had seen, this new ship seemed to be composed only of engines. While Wraith ships were like hulking insects and human ships more like boxy toys traveling through the void, this ship was a swan. It was mostly silver, a few windows flashed extra light but the most beautiful part were the glowing blue lines of the engines. They were swept back and up like they were meant to let her glide through space.
“It’s beautiful,” Elizabeth sighed to no one in particular. Chuck smirked slightly behind his station but she thought she could almost catch tears in Beverly’s eyes as she nodded.
Beverly was keeping her eyes on the outline of the Enterprise. Her voice was wistful. “She really is, isn’t she?”
“Doctor Weir,” Chuck reported from his computer. “Doctor, we’re being hailed.”
“Atlantis,” The rich, confidant voice she’d heard before was suddenly speaking perfect English, as if he’d grown up speaking it all his life. “This is the Captain Picard of the Federation Starship Enterprise. Your Colonel Sheppard tells us you’re having a little problem with the Wraith.” Beverly’s relief only became more apparent as Elizabeth watched her listen to her captain’s voice.
“Captain,” Elizabeth finally found her voice. “We’d appreciate any help you can give us.”
“Elizabeth?” The new voice was John’s. Suddenly, Elizabeth thought she shared Beverly’s overwhelming sense of relief. Just hearing John’s voice on the comm was like knowing he was back from the dead. “Good to hear your voice again. Can’t talk now, I’m going to teach our new friends how to blow up a Wraith ship.”
“Keep in touch,” Elizabeth warned him with more concern than she intended. “Your captain would travel all this way, crossing universes, not just to save you, but to fight our enemy?”
Beverly smiled but there was something secretive in it. “Perhaps your Colonel Sheppard is more persuasive than you give him credit for being,” she replied.
If the gossip of her crew was right about Riker and Troi, whatever the rules were in Starfleet, fraternization seemed not to be as strictly enforced. There was something more than simple relief at hearing a familiar voice in Beverly’s face. There was something special about Jean-Luc Picard. If everything went right, Elizabeth had to admit to herself she was deeply curious to see what it was.
“Signal the chair room,” Elizabeth ordered. “If they see through our cloak we’ll need to raise the shields and deploy the drones as quickly as possible.” She met Beverly’s eyes one more time and tried to share her faith in the Enterprise. Whispering to herself, Elizabeth crossed her arms over her chest and glanced up at the clear sky where the great ship had appeared. “Good luck Enterprise.”
Previously: part I || part II || part III || part IV || part V
Author: me! the Oparu
Rating: R to be safe, there's some sex...
Pairings:Sheppard/Weir, Crusher(Beverly)/Picard, Riker/Troi
Universes:Season 3 STTNG, Season 2 SGA
Notes: Been forever since I updated, but in my defense, I moved 17 hours worth of timezone. I also decided to go epic and enjoy my own little universe of doom. ;)
On the bridge of the Enterprise, reaching across universes through a feat of interstellar slight of hand he still wasn’t sure he entirely understood, Jean-Luc tried not to fidget in his chair. Geordi, Data and Doctor McKay had put their minds together and found a small quantum singularity that could be used to bounce a signal through to the universe John Sheppard had dubbed the ‘gateverse’. Jean-Luc’s own universe was called ‘trekverse’ after a dramatic program commonly watched in the ‘gateverse’. The names were crude but they saved a great deal of time.
Jean-Luc tapped his fingers anxiously on the arm of his chair and Worf hailed the city again. “Atlantis, this is the Federation starship Enterprise. Please respond. Commander Riker, Doctor Crusher, Counselor Troi, please respond. Repeat. This is the Federation starship Enterprise. We believe we have a way to cross into your universe. If you are receiving this message, please respond.”
“Captain-” Worf’s gruff baritone interrupted the heavy silence on the bridge. “Captain, we are receiving a signal. Radio waves.”
Geordi shook his head from the engineering console behind Worf and crossed to examine tactical. “Old style, early twenty-first century. There’s some distortion from the micro wormhole, but the comm is holding. Translators aren’t going to work though. Too much time distortion.”
Finally letting himself leave his chair, Picard straightened his uniform jacket and nodded. “On speaker.”
A woman’s voice was polite and controlled. Jean-Luc caught the word ‘Atlantis’ and wondered if it was just a distortion of his own message cruelly bounced through time.
“Sir,” Worf reported unbidden. “The translation matrix reports she is speaking in an old Earth language common in the twenty-first century.”
“Mandarin?” Picard wondered.
“English,” Worf answered. “We may be able to program the translator to compensate for the time fluctuations of the wormhole but it will take some time.”
“If you’ll allow me, sir.” Data offered. Jean-Luc spared a moment on the irony of a language barrier. To all the gateverse visitors, surrounded by Starfleet officers wearing universal translators, everyone on the Enterprise spoke flawlessly in their native tongue. Normally the computer could compensate, but with the distortion the initial message had been in Federation standard, something these humans had no knowledge of.
At Picard’s nod, the android spoke calmly in the ancient language. “Atlantis, this is the Enterprise--”
“Data!”
The familiar voice cut through the bridge like the flare of a supernova.
“Beverly-”He nearly choked on her first name; the lump in his throat was so intense. “Doctor Crusher?”
“Jean-Luc,” she sighed and the relief was palpable. He could even picture her glowing smile. “You found us.”
“I hope you never doubted us,” he said drolly trying to regain his composure. “Please inform Atlantis that we have a Colonel Sheppard, Doctor McKay, Mister Dex and Miss Emmagen who are all in excellent health and anxious to return home.”
The female voice spoke in the background. Jean-Luc thought he could hear the relief in her voice, even though her words were unfamiliar. After a moment, Beverly translated. “Doctor Weir, the leader of Atlantis, says that’s excellent news, sir.” The last word seemed like an afterthought, but it suggested the shock of being saved had worn off.
“With her permission,” Jean-Luc began. “We’re working on a way to bring everyone home. We require access to their database, specifically the information concerning the Stargate wormhole phenomenon.” He couldn’t remember getting to his feet and hoped he hadn’t jumped up too abruptly from his chair. He forced himself to stand still behind Data. “Can we establish a remote connection?” He asked the android while Beverly translated on the other end.
“Captain, Doctor Weir warns that the computer has a very large database,” Beverly said after a moment. “It is also in a language called Ancient. I’ll try to explain to her that our computer can handle it.”
Jean-Luc waved his hand unnecessarily and chastised himself for doing it. “Thank you doctor.” Turning back down to Data, he tried to formulate a plan. “Can you write an algorithm to search and download only what we need?”
Data paused then nodded when the thousands of complex calculations were done. “Complete, sir.” He input it quickly into the computer and tilted his head before waiting for the involuntary facial cues he recognized in his captain’s face as permission to ask a question.
Jean-Luc almost smiled and inclined his head. “Yes Data?”
“I find it fascinating that in the universe we are calling the gateverse, the myth of Atlantis was true and that an advanced race actually constructed such a vessel,” Data remarked as they walked up to join Geordi and Worf in the rear of the bridge. “That is surely a marvel of technical skill. As is their development of slipstream technology and artificial wormholes capable of transporting them across galaxies. If it is possible to study their information in detail, Starfleet could learn much from their technology.”
“I wonder if their evolution paralleled that of the Ikonians. The gateway technology would be similar. If we have time for scientific study,” Jean-Luc replied easily. “I shall see that you have the opportunity to do so.
Allowing himself the luxury of hope, Jean-Luc turned back towards Worf and Geordi. “After we establish a link with their computer, can we keep it open long enough to get what we need?”
Worf’s huge hands moved lightly over the smooth tactical screen before he brought his eyes back up to the captain’s. “Remote access link is enabled, sir.”
Geordi leaned over the science console and double checked the link. “Data, their database is almost forty times the size of the Enterprise computer. Even if the wormhole data is a small fraction of the city’s database, it could take days to transfer the data.”
“I believe the algorithm to be sufficient,” Data answered evenly. “Considering the impending attack on the city, I shall endeavor to speed the process.”
“Data, contract Doctor McKay and have him assist you with the computer. He may be able to fill in some of the gaps and help you find exactly what we need to know.” Jean-Luc suggested as he tried not to notice the two empty chairs in the central circle of the bridge. Deanna would tell him that worrying for the safety of only three of his officers was not enough to risk being distracted at a crucial moment. Worry would help no one. Will would be amused by a floating city or recount some anecdote of his last vacation on Pacifica. Beverly would have reminded him over breakfast that he would figure it out. Captains of the Enterprise always worked miracles and he was no exception.
Her absence was the most palpable. He’d eaten breakfast in his ready room instead of his quarters for the past three days because breakfast alone in his quarters was unbearably quiet. His only breakfast date with her had been Friday, the first day she was missing. She was supposed to have spent breakfast regaling him tales of her trip to Haguerean Eight. Instead, he’d had to stomach the knowledge that she was missing and that nagged him more than he wanted to admit.
“Still there?” he asked with more lightness than he felt. Walking back to the command chair kept his face from betraying too much to Worf or Geordi. Jean-Luc didn’t think Data would understand, but he would remember.
“Hard to wander off in a floating city,” Beverly’s voice quipped back. “Doctor Weir thinks we’re ready on this end. Don’t suppose you can beam us straight through?”
“Now Beverly,” he mock chastised as he pictured her in the vast floating city John Sheppard had described. “Where would the fun be in that?”
The radio hung silent for a moment and he wondered if he should summon Wesley to the bridge from engineering.
Beverly’s thoughts beat him there. “Jean-Luc. If you can’t- if we can’t make it back--”
“Hey,” he interrupted her sharply. “None of that.”
“Will’s written a letter to his father. Deanna has one to her mother and I-” her voice faltered and his mind’s eye put tears in her blue eyes. “Wesley. I wrote one for Wesley. I-”
“We will bring you home, doctor,” he insisted as firmly as he dared on the bridge. “Beverly--”
“I want you to look after him. Talk to him about girls. Make sure he has some fun at the Academy.”
How many times had he been in this place with her? He’d brought her home when she’d been kidnapped by terrorists. He’d somehow managed to keep her alive on Minos. No universal twist of fate was going to keep her from Wesley. “Wesley will always be able to count on me for whatever he needs but Beverly, I promise you won’t have to turn to me out of desperation. Just keep your chin up.”
Geordi cleared his throat. “We need to terminate the radio link, sir.”
He realized she’d heard Geordi when Jean-Luc heard her sigh heavily. “Doctor, I will see you shortly. You have my word.”
Her voice was still shaky but there was more hope in it now. “Crepes tomorrow then?”
“My treat,” he promised. The signal terminated with a innocent beep of Worf’s panel. The blackness of the quantum singularity on the viewer felt that much more foreboding without her voice.
He took a slow breath before he headed to his ready room. “Gentlemen, I expect to that my breakfast tomorrow will be on time,” Jean-Luc suggested in his most hopeful tone.
To his surprise, Worf seemed to be amused as he answered. “We’ll do our best, sir.”
It felt doubly wrong to have Will, Deanna and Beverly absent with John Sheppard, Rodney McKay, Teyla Emmagen and Ronon Dex filling their places. John was even sitting in Will’s seat to Jean-Luc’s right.
There were similarities between both men, he mused as he half-listened to Doctor McKay’s very technical explanation. John certainly drew his fair share of admiring looks from the crew. He was more reserved than Will, his mock contempt of his position as a leader, covered his deep care for his team. Ronon was a warrior, honorable, quiet and completely dedicated to his mission to eradicate the Wraith. Jean-Luc couldn’t help making the comparison to Guinan’s feelings about the Borg. It was the same type of unflinching commitment.
Teyla definitely commanded his respect. Even as Rodney tried to out-talk Data concerning the ‘gateverse wormholes Data was now an expert on, Teyla looked calm. Her serenity seemed to hang around her like a cloak.
“We will need some way to neutralize the Wraith vessel before it can damage anything in our universe,” Data explained briskly. The lack of variation in his tone between the discussion a genocidal alien race and the modifications to the shields was getting under Doctor McKay’s skin. So was the way Data had yet to react.
“Something big,” John suggested grimly. “Nukes if you have them. Lots of those photon torpedoes if you don’t.”
Jean-Luc pursed his lips and considered their situation. Starfleet would strongly disapprove of his mission to rescue his crew but the Enterprise was enough out that his subspace message describing their plan would not be received until the following day, far too late for them to disapprove. However, they did need a way to neutralize a Wrath vessel and the assistance of another starship would have been ideal.
“Mister Worf,” he began when McKay paused for breath during a lengthy explanation of the Wraith’s weapons capabilities. “Do you think Chancellor Gowron would be willing to test a few Birds of Prey against an previously untried foe?”
The dark Klingon grinned wickedly and nodded once. “I will contact him immediately. We are near enough to the Merota Four colony for several ships to be available.”
Ronon watched Worf as he stood and spoke for the first time in the meeting. “Permission to go with him,” he asked gruffly as he got to his feet. “I don’t know anything about wormholes. I do know how to kill Wraith. I would be proud to teach that to Klingons.”
Jean-Luc met Worf’s dark eyes and then nodded once. “Granted.”
“They better be enough,” Doctor McKay warned darkly. “Trust me, the last thing you want is Wraith getting a foothold in your space.”
“They’re as insidious as the Borg,” John Sheppard added. Surprised he even knew of the existence of the Borg, Jean-Luc stared at the colonel. “Except they don’t want to assimilate you, or turn you into Locutus.”
When all of his crew looked as puzzled as Jean-Luc felt, Sheppard got a strange look in his eyes. “Sorry,” he shrugged weakly. “Wrong universe.” He had a wordless argument with Doctor McKay that ended with a throat cutting gesture before Geordi gently took over the conversation.
“I’d like to suggest that we separate the ship and crew the stardrive section on a volunteer basis,” the engineer began with a softness that betrayed the uncertainties he felt. “We’re pretty sure we can swap the stardrive section of the Enterprise in the same manner the shuttle and the puddle jumper were swapped.”
“The space-altering dynamics of your warp field and the wormhole generated by the Pegasus stargate at that instant were enough to exchange two objects of roughly the same mass that were both out of normal space time,” McKay explained impatiently. “Just like I’ve already said.”
“However, the Enterprise is far too big to fit through a Stargate,” Data added without sharing any of the human’s emotion. “We are going to attempt to duplicate the effect using a precisely timed spread of photon torpedoes. Arming the warheads with subspace inverters tuned to the exact frequency of an incoming wormhole should temporarily extend the containment field of the singularity formed by the Stargate.”
Teyla read the same dread on McKay’s face that Jean-Luc saw. “If we are not exact?”
Geordi blanched slightly before he spoke. “Without the photo torpedoes to redirect our travel, the stardrive section will be forced through a circle approximately six meters in diameter. The reconversion of the ship from energy to matter will be like trying to stuff a shuttlecraft through a torpedo tube at warp two. We’ll be duranium dust.”
“Let’s try to avoid that Commander,” Jean-Luc suggested as he scanned the faces of his crew. “Mister Data, Doctor McKay, Mister LaForge, prepare to separate the ship and program the appropriate spread of torpedoes.
“Aye sir,” Geordi replied. Doctor McKay looked like he intended to say something but a look from Sheppard silenced him.
“Captain Picard,” the colonel began with gravity of someone who knew exactly what he was asking of strangers. “I know your people are trapped in Atlantis, just like we’re stuck here, but I want to thank you. All of you, for risking your lives to save our city.“
“Commander Riker would say it is all part of the service,” Data remarked. After a pause he looked at the leader from the other universe and added, “Sir.”
Jean-Luc wasn’t entirely sure, but he thought Sheppard looked oddly touched. “Colonel Sheppard, I understand you’re a very good pilot. Perhaps you would like a chance to handle the helm in a few simulations while we’re evacuating the ship?”
Sheppard actually smiled and Jean-Luc finally understood why Guinan had compared him to Will Riker. “I’d love to, Captain.”
“I will show him the way,” Data offered with a slight inclination of his white hand. “Please.”
The door of the observation lounge hissed shut behind the the four men as they left together. McKay’s voice carried through the corridor for a few moments as he discussed the warheads of the torpedoes with Geordi.
Teyla had left her chair and stood staring out the window at the still points of starlight. Jean-Luc straightened his uniform as he stood and headed for the replicator. Ordering two cups of earl grey, he handed one to her as he moved to join her.
“Thank you,” she murmured as she blew across the surface. “Were the situation reversed, John would act just as you are. He greatly admires you for that reason.”
Jean-Luc smiled and realized that had been the reason for Sheppard’s quiet agreement. “I cannot leave my crew behind,” he offered simply. If Teyla had been part of his crew he would have guarded his feelings better, however, he couldn’t help feeling that she would have known regardless.
“There is someone in the city he is particularly close to,” Teyla began. Taking a sip of tea, she collected her thoughts with the hot liquid in her mouth before finishing. “You could say he has a personal reason to return.”
Watching his reflection smile wryly in the glass, Jean-Luc wondered just how much time Teyla had spent with Guinan. “Just as I have a personal reason to retrieve my crew?”
She smiled with him. “I believe so,” she said simply. “I will never understand why so much time is wasted by both of your cultures. On my world, feelings are too precious to waste on indecision or fear.“
“Perhaps we’ve grown complacent,” he offered in response as he tried to imagine living a life where he did not have all the time in the universe to find peace with Beverly. “We are rarely reminded how precious the time we are given can be.”
Much like his own mind, Teyla’s thoughts seemed light-years away. “Perhaps someday, my world will share that luxury.”
“Maybe my people will learn to seize the moment,” he replied. Perhaps even starship captains who had carried their secrets far too long, Jean-Luc finished to himself as he let his mind wander out among the stars. When his thoughts inevitably returned to Beverly, he allowed them to remain there.
It wasn’t a puddle jumper, John Sheppard complained silently to himself, but it was almost as much fun to fly, even for something hundreds of times the size. The helm of the stardrive section was nearly instantly responsive and packed a maneuverability that the Daedalus and other Earth ships lacked. The shields were sensitive enough to allow for wild dips and turns and unlike the perfect dampening of the puddle jumper, he could actually feel the Gs.
Ronon and the Klingon, Worf, had beamed over to prepare the crew of the huge green, hungry-looking vessel on the big screen in front of him, the IKS ErethKul, in hand-to-hand tactics. The Klingons enjoyed boarding enemy vessels, and Wraith shields had not proved very effective against transporters. Trying to imagine what Ronon had found to do on a ship full of Klingons was nearly as much fun as flying the Enterprise.
After he’d tested against the Enterprise computer and the two pilots who had volunteered, John had been given the go ahead to fly the stardrive section into combat. He knew the Wraith and he thought he knew where to hit them. John went over the controls again in his head, keeping his eyes closed as he inventoried all the functions of the smooth glass panel.
Many of Picard’s crew had been quick to volunteer, even when the stakes were raised as high as they were. Picard was keeping the numbers small, only willing to risk the personnel he thought were absolutely necessary. A small band of engineers and scientists, including a married pair of Vulcans who insisted that exploration of a new universe was the highest honor for them, Picard’s command crew and one trainee were all that would be aboard.
The young Wesley Crusher had caused a certain amount of debate when he’d insisted on being allowed to go. The prodigy was supposed to be shipped off to somewhere called the Academy soon and his insistence on being part of the suicidal-trans-universal camping trip didn’t set well with Picard. John wasn’t entirely sure how he would have handled it, if the decision had been his.
The older officers knew exactly what they were signing on for. John knew the type who joined intergalactic spaceflights. They had made their choices but Wesley hadn’t even had a chance to come home drunk at oh-two hundred. However, his mother was in the gateverse and something he had said to Picard had changed the captain’s mind. John didn’t want to speculate, he didn’t usually fall into gossip but he’d overheard Guinan answering Geordi’s question as she made the rounds with a tray of hot coffee.
Wesley’s entire family was going on this mission. His mother was in Atlantis. Geordi and Data, both of his tutors, were heading through and the way he shared glares with the captain suggested that Wesley depended on Picard like a father. John wondered if his own father would have looked at him that way with the same mixture of pride, guilt and frustration.
“I can order you to stay behind,” Picard reminded the young man gently.
“Yes sir,” Wesley answered, pain evident in his voice. His shoulders were stiff and if Picard had made the request an order, John knew he would have followed it. Jean-Luc Picard was a Jack O’Neill, a General Hammond or, John’s current personal favorite fictional hero, William Adama. He was the type of man who was a leader when it was most difficult to be. Wondering if he could do that, John pretended not to watch the end of their conversation.
“With respect sir,” Wesley’s voice was sharp as if he was trying too hard to speak. “My father would have gone. I think he would have gone even if I was staying behind.”
Picard straightened stiffly. “Yes, he would have gone because he would have thought he was the best man for the job and refused to leave me alone until he had convinced me. However, he would have wanted you to stay behind. Now, if you were a child, that would be the case, but I find that is no longer the situation. As the adult, I believe you to be, I cannot deny you the right to choose. You will help Doctor McKay modify the torpedoes.”
John wondered how old the boy was when his face broke into a smile. Sixteen? Seventeen? Teyla’s people were considered adults when they were old enough to hunt and protect those weaker than themselves. She’d become an adult at thirteen. John wasn’t sure he even considered himself an adult some days. “Yes sir, thank you sir,” was all Wesley said before the door hissed and signaled his exit from the bridge.
Picard was seated in the center of the battle bridge when John let himself stop pretending to be engrossed in his work. “His mother may not forgive me,” he admitted as he lifted his head from his hands.
“Remind her that he is exactly what she raised him to be,” John suggested as he hovered near the first officer’s chair. He didn’t really belong there, he was much happier being at the helm but he sat for the moment when Picard offered the seat with his hand.
Picard actually smiled dryly. “I have no doubt she will be exceedingly proud of him,” he agreed.
“Maybe that will distract her,” John hoped. His observation earned a tiny smile from the captain as they watched Commanders La Forge and Data appear from the turbolift.
Geordi nodded once purposefully. “Captain, we’re ready.”
After he asked the computer, John found Teyla on holodeck three. He could smell the summer heat and the richness of the air. Walking up the hill towards a small house wrapped in the woods, he found her seated beneath one of the trees.
“We are on your Earth,” Teyla announced without opening her eyes. “I believe this area is known as France. I am reminding myself what we are fighting for.”
John grinned and offered her his hand getting to her feet. “Trees?”
She returned his smirk with a shake of her head. “Yes John, trees,” she replied. “Has Ronon returned?”
“Sickbay,” John explained. Looking around him, he turned to her quizzically when the path he’d come up seemed to lead right into a vineyard.
“Arch, please,” Teyla asked the air. Wrapping her air into his, she let him lead the way to sickbay. “How was he injured?”
As they entered and found Ronon sitting on one of the biobeds, three nasty-looking cuts on his face, a bruised lip and a slowly blackening eye promised more bruises were beneath his clothes. The Vulcan doctor, Selar, one of the volunteers that was coming with them, was repairing the damage to Ronon’s broken collarbone as the huge man grinned like a kid on Christmas morning.
“Training?” John wondered.
Ronon lifted one of the wicked looking, three-pronged daggers sitting on the bed next to him and smiled rakishly at it. “Cultural exchange,” he replied before he closed his eyes to let her repair them. “When I defeat the Wraith,” he announced with deadly certainty. “Should I leave Pegasus, I have found a place to call home.”
“More fun than Atlantis?” John teased and winced when Ronon removed his shirt and exposed what looked like bite marks on his torso.
“More women.”
“Two Wraith ships are still incoming,” Chuck reported apologetically. “No word from the Enterprise.”
Elizabeth stared down at her white knuckles and sighed heavily. That motion of her chest did nothing to to alleviate the knot in her stomach. Someone, Airman Kirahoshi, pressed coffee into her hands, at her left Doctor Crusher accepted a cup as well. The other woman’s hands shook slightly and they shared a look.
“First time the Wraith have tried to kill me,” Beverly said. She sipped her coffee and smiled in surprise. “This is good.”
“We do what we can,” Elizabeth agreed. “Who else?”
“Who?” Beverly repeated before she understood the question. “Anyone who has tried to kill me? Me personally or me as collateral damage?”
Deciding she liked the sarcastic doctor’s wit, Elizabeth watched the graphic of the two Wraith vessels close in on the city. “Either.”
Taking a moment to think, Beverly stared down at her coffee before she stared a list. “The Romulans, the Borg, a flying robot salesman, the Klingons- that was a long time ago, a terrorist called Flynn kidnapped me, a disembodied entity possessed me, and once a crazy, psychopathic Android shot me. A crystalline entity tried to eat the ship, a giant puddle of black goo tried to kill me, Jean-Luc was brainwashed and attacked the ship with a relic. We tripped a radiation trap--”
When the list continued, Elizabeth actually started to smile. “How was being possessed?”
“Boring,” Beverly mock-whispered conspiratorially. “I don’t remember it. The time I was most frightened was when I was being held hostage by the terrorist. The giant puddle of black goo with a temper control problem would have been ridiculous if it hadn’t killed one of my friends.” She paused and grief passed over her face for a moment. Life-sucking aliens with a taste for raw human is definitely a new one.”
Elizabeth felt the knot in her stomach twist become a living thing. “You were saying Captain Picard has excellent timing,” she remembered hopefully.
Beverly gulped her coffee. “A certain ability to work miracles comes with the job.”
Exhaustion seemed to be fighting its way in from the edges of her body while nervousness reached outward from the inside. Neither sensation was pleasant and Elizabeth shuddered.
“Doctor Weir,” Chuck’s voice was a welcome distraction. “We’re receiving another signal from the Enterprise, audio only.”
The voice she didn’t understand, Captain Jean-Luc Picard, spoke from another universe. Something in their translators still wasn’t working and all Elizabeth could hear was the tone of his voice. His sureness and confidence sank into her like the sun on a pleasant day on the mainland.
“About time,” Beverly teased him. The way her face became hopeful instead of simply exhausted suggested Picard had good news. “The Wraith ships are getting close down here.”
“Less than thirty minutes,” Elizabeth explained for her.
Beverly listened to the warm, intelligent sounding voice from farther away than Elizabeth had ever been. “They’re coming. It’s very complicated but they’re coming-”
She didn’t think she’d heard that correctly. “Coming?”
Reaching for Elizabeth’s computer, Beverly traced a line of trajectory across a map of the galaxy with the stylus. “Can you create an incoming wormhole from three-nine mark one-seven-four mark two-five-eight? Or within ten degrees of that direction? The Enterprise should be able to arrive in orbit within a few moments of the establishment of the wormhole.”
Chuck’s voice interrupted her reply. “Doctor Zelenka says the Major’s team needs to dial in from m-three-b, two-eight-eight.”
“The dinosaur planet?” Lorne asked with a shake of his head. “How many rocket launchers can I take with me?”
“Two,” Elizabeth answered with deadly seriousness. “Get your team together.” Taking a moment to think, she bit her lip in frustration. “I don’t want to pull Carson out of the infirmary for the chair.”
“The chair?” Beverly repeated. Exhaustion and excitement made an odd mix in her voice.
“I planned on using Major Lorne in the chair,” Elizabeth explained. Her hands fidgeted unbidden with her now nearly empty coffee mug. “I could move down the line but my people have less experience as I go.”
Beverly seemed to understand as she accepted more coffee from the airman refilling the cups in command. “Deanna did quite well until we shut it off. Then we discovered the effect it has on her.”
Even with the weight of the impending battle on her shoulders, Elizabeth managed a smile. “It really does make her drunk?”
“Psilosine and xerotolemine are the neurotransmitters you associate with the Ancient gene. Using the chair produces large amounts of both of those in Deanna’s brain and they breakdown in her bloodstream.” Beverly said with a trace of amusement. “Usually something like that would just give her a slight headache, but your Carson treated her with an opiate called codeine when we arrived. Deanna’s not human, at least, not entirely, Her mother’s Betazoid and their brains are much more complicated. Opiates and similar drugs have vastly different effects on her species. I’ve given her something to absorb the codeine. She’ll be completely coherent if she ran-flew-controlled, whatever you call it, your chair device again.” Her second cup of coffee had sharpened her tongue. Elizabeth couldn’t help wondering if they even had caffeine in the future.
“Lieutenant Booth,” Elizabeth requested from the commlink. “Can you find Deanna Troi?”
The voice that replied sounded slightly amused. “She’s in her quarters with Riker, sir.”
Beverly chuckled slightly and her blue eyes had a wicked glint in them.
Elizabeth watched even Chuck start to smile and suddenly realize how much of a mess she’d be in if she was ever caught in John’s quarters. That thought was still one of her most guarded fantasies, but a precious one to her. “Can you wake them, politely, and request their presence in the chair room?”
Lieutenant Booth still seemed amused and Elizabeth made up her mind to ask Major Lorne about the young woman’s combat history. “Yes sir. I will retrieve parts of their clothing for them as well, sir.”
Chuck was biting his lip and Beverly was actually laughing at her side. “I’m going to enjoy seeing the looks on their faces. Not as much as I’ll enjoy telling the captain.”
Picard’s voice, his gentle yet completely foreign words cut through the comm system again. Elizabeth wondered if he could hear the laughter in Beverly’s voice as she answered his questions.
“Enterprise needs us to signal when the wormhole has been established,” she translated. “The captain would also like you to know that he will be taking care of one of the Wraith ships immediately and the other should be something the Enterprise can manage. Though any help from the city will be appreciated.”
“I’ll inform the major,” Elizabeth said taking a step back and letting the other woman have a moment if she needed one. Wondering what she’d say to John if it was the last time she’d speak to him, she was almost disappointed when Beverly simply bit her lip and wished him luck.
“Major Lorne just reported in,” Chuck reported from the communications console in the center of command. “It will take him approximately sixty seconds to shut down the wormhole and dial out again.”
“Signal the Enterprise. Lieutenant Booth?” Elizabeth asked next. Her console showed the two Wraith vessels moving ominously towards them in hyperspace.
“Commanders Riker and Troi are in the chair room with me,” the lieutenant reported through the commlink. “Commander Troi is in the chair.”
“But is she sober?” Beverly appeared behind her, arms crossed over her chest. The lilt in her voice suggested she already knew the answer to her question.
Lieutenant Booth reported again. “She’s fine but apparently the doctor’s methods are worse than a hangover.”
“I’ll have to apologize when this is over,” Elizabeth said nodding and trying to file it in her memory.
“Major Lorne is dialing in,” Chuck reported a moment before the bright green lights started to chase each other round the stargate. The sight was still new enough to startle Beverly. Her hands gripped the rail looking out over the atrium. The first six lights lit up and as the last one locked, the sky above the city exploded.
“Wraith ships are dropping out of hyperspace--” Chuck’s voice was swallowed up in a roar of energy.
In a perfect circle of bright green light, some kind of explosion, the Enterprise’s complicated plan blew a green hole into the atmosphere of the planet. Shielding her eyes from the stabbing pain of the light, Elizabeth brought her eyes to the display. For a moment, she saw two Wraith ships, bearing down on the city.
Suddenly, one of them vanished, popping out of existence like a bad dream while something else appeared in its place. Whatever it was, it was almost the size of the other Wraith ship but shaped very differently. Instead of the pointed nose and horizontal stripe of engines in the rear of the ship like most vessels Elizabeth had seen, this new ship seemed to be composed only of engines. While Wraith ships were like hulking insects and human ships more like boxy toys traveling through the void, this ship was a swan. It was mostly silver, a few windows flashed extra light but the most beautiful part were the glowing blue lines of the engines. They were swept back and up like they were meant to let her glide through space.
“It’s beautiful,” Elizabeth sighed to no one in particular. Chuck smirked slightly behind his station but she thought she could almost catch tears in Beverly’s eyes as she nodded.
Beverly was keeping her eyes on the outline of the Enterprise. Her voice was wistful. “She really is, isn’t she?”
“Doctor Weir,” Chuck reported from his computer. “Doctor, we’re being hailed.”
“Atlantis,” The rich, confidant voice she’d heard before was suddenly speaking perfect English, as if he’d grown up speaking it all his life. “This is the Captain Picard of the Federation Starship Enterprise. Your Colonel Sheppard tells us you’re having a little problem with the Wraith.” Beverly’s relief only became more apparent as Elizabeth watched her listen to her captain’s voice.
“Captain,” Elizabeth finally found her voice. “We’d appreciate any help you can give us.”
“Elizabeth?” The new voice was John’s. Suddenly, Elizabeth thought she shared Beverly’s overwhelming sense of relief. Just hearing John’s voice on the comm was like knowing he was back from the dead. “Good to hear your voice again. Can’t talk now, I’m going to teach our new friends how to blow up a Wraith ship.”
“Keep in touch,” Elizabeth warned him with more concern than she intended. “Your captain would travel all this way, crossing universes, not just to save you, but to fight our enemy?”
Beverly smiled but there was something secretive in it. “Perhaps your Colonel Sheppard is more persuasive than you give him credit for being,” she replied.
If the gossip of her crew was right about Riker and Troi, whatever the rules were in Starfleet, fraternization seemed not to be as strictly enforced. There was something more than simple relief at hearing a familiar voice in Beverly’s face. There was something special about Jean-Luc Picard. If everything went right, Elizabeth had to admit to herself she was deeply curious to see what it was.
“Signal the chair room,” Elizabeth ordered. “If they see through our cloak we’ll need to raise the shields and deploy the drones as quickly as possible.” She met Beverly’s eyes one more time and tried to share her faith in the Enterprise. Whispering to herself, Elizabeth crossed her arms over her chest and glanced up at the clear sky where the great ship had appeared. “Good luck Enterprise.”