SGA Fic : "Return to Normalcy" - Ark of Truth (Part 2)
Title: Ark of Truth
Author: Cypher
Fandom: Stargate Atlantis
Universe: The Return to Normalcy
Main Characters: John Sheppard, Rodney McKay, Lorne, Cadman, Landry, Carter
Summary: "The fleet comes for Earth. The Ori are here to burn Avalon.”
Pairing: Sheppard/McKay, Teal'c/Cam (if you squint), Carter/Pete
Rating: R
Word Count: 13,000
Notes: I've been toying with this plot dangle for a while, and the 10 Year Anniversary for SGA is just too good an opportunity to pass up! This is what happens in the Ark of Truth in the "Return to Normalcy" 'verse--or rather, what happens with John and Rodney, and the lost city of Lemuria. The order of the stories (currently) is:
The Return to Normalcy
That Time Lorne Manages to Steal John's TV
The Myth of Makepeace
What About Teyla & Ronon?
Ark of Truth - Part 2
~*( Part 1 )*~
It takes another day for Lemuria to move to a stationary orbit above the North Pole. Lifting off from the dark side of the moon goes smoothly, but then they have to coordinate with Earth’s satellites to ensure no civilians accidentally catch a glimpse of the city mid-flight. The IOA continues to hope that Earth will remain ignorant of the SGC and what’s going on in the grander universe, but John’s pretty sure after this attack the secrecy of the program will be blown wide open.
He’s got some mixed feelings about that.
The Weir, McKay, and Sheppard are flying in concert with the Daedalus and the newly completed Apollo and Sun Tzu. There’s a fourth, the Phoenix, that the SGC is trying to rush to completion, but John doubts they’ll even get it into orbit, much less battle ready. The six ships are at a midpoint between Mars and Earth orbit, equidistant and constantly patrolling.
Though highly underpowered, both the Grodin and Gall still have basic weapons and shields that theoretically can withstand a shot or two from an Ori warship. They’re staying close to Earth and staffed with skeleton crews, all of whom are aware that their job is to act as blockades, nothing more. There’s a couple Atlantis personnel on board, but most are those who were staffed on the Prometheus, the ones who felt they should’ve gone down with their ship and have been living half-lives at the SGC.
John knows exactly how they feel, and really wishes they had their own versions of SG-20 to help them through the darkness. He ended up being one of the lucky ones.
On the bridge of the Ford, he’s manning the pilot controls and keeping them in a parallel orbit to the moon. Cadman’s on the weapon console and Chuck is almost bouncing in his seat, once again in charge of ship logistics and sensors. Lorne isn’t at the central pentagon of stations, he’s behind John, manning the cruiser controls for when they launch the twenty-five automated vessels. For a change, Miko has actually left the safety of Lemuria and is stationed at engineering. In fact, almost the entire staff of the Ford are ex-Atlantis personnel. Supposedly, they all volunteered the instant they heard both the name of the ship and that John was captaining.
There was that chest-swelling feeling again, but at least this time he wasn’t alone, if the look on Rodney’s face at the announcement was anything to go by.
Rodney and Radek worked miracles and got two more Furling strike cruisers operational, giving them a fleet of nearly 80 small cruisers to fight off Ori darts-fighters. They’re functionally the same, and John keeps getting the terms mixed up in his head. Doesn’t help that except for coloring, they look the same. He and Rodney had a small celebration when Radek reported both strike ships were fully operational.
He certainly didn’t argue with the christening of the Teyla and Ronon. They aren’t manned by Atlantis personnel, but just the fact that his old team has been invoked in spirit is enough to make him think they have a shot.
Like the Ford, they’re keeping a close parallel orbit to the moon. They’re the second line of defense, in case the warships get past the six ships farther out.
“I’ve got something,” Chuck says suddenly.
“Yes, that’s the crystal clarity we all relied upon in Atlantis,” is Rodney’s acerbic reply from Lemuria.
“I’ve got another blip,” comes Caldwell’s voice. “Still no reply from the Supergate.”
Before travelling through, the Odyssey dropped off a cloaked Jumper. Supposedly, once the weapon was deployed, SG-1 will dial back and give them the go-ahead to exterminate the Ori here.
“Yes, thank you, Colonel. It’s not as if we’re not all watching the comm obsessively in the hopes of hearing-“
“McKay,” comes the heaving sigh from General Landry, who’s currently in the Antarctic outpost with Carson preparing to use what few drone weapons are still left in the platform. “Just confirm the situation.”
There’s a huff and nearly inaudible mutters before, “I’m reading seven-no, eight. Shit. Nine. Nine Ori warships entering the system. They’ll be passing Jupiter in under eleven minutes. I’d estimate no more than twenty before they’re in weapon’s range of the first line.”
“You heard the man,” Landry replies. “Furling warships and Daedalus-class ships, focus on the warships themselves. Sheppard, I want you to take out as many of their fighters as you can.”
“Yes sir.” A tall order, considering each warship holds 500 fighters. He glances back at Lorne, who nods and starts coordinating the cruiser launches with the Teyla and Ronon. There’s a deep, almost rhythmic pulse to the engines as the separation takes place, and the lights of the bridge change from an ambient orange to a crimson purple. With a few strokes of the crystal keys, Chuck brings two visuals up, one an overview of the entire Sol system, including the ships. The other, a visual of the three strike ships and their now launched cruisers.
Seventy-five differently sized triangular ships all zipping and flying in a controlled dance. There’s a deadly poetry to it that, if John were better at words, he’d definitely write down. From the way Lorne’s staring, he’s pretty sure there’ll be a few drawings of it in the future. “How’s it look?”
Lorne snaps back to attention and works his own controls. A third of the ships do lazy barrel rolls before the narrowest corner on the cruises start glowing an eerie lavender. “All ships responsive, weapons systems online, shields at full strength.”
John glances at Miko and raises an eyebrow. “Versus Ori fighters?”
She pushes her glasses up and ducks, trying to avoid his gaze. “Our cruisers should have no difficulty penetrating their shields, nor are the fighter weapons a sizable threat individually. There is likely, however, to be heavy losses on our side.”
Cadman grimaces. “Death by a thousand stings.”
Miko bobs her head. “Yes. They have nearly five thousand fighters. We have no method to replenish our own ships at this time.”
“Don’t worry,” Lorne says, “we’ll make every shot count.”
“Plus, there’s the Ford’s secret weapon,” Cadman throws in.
“One trick pony, Lieutenant,” John reminds her. The Furlings had an extra bit of cunning when designing their strike ships. While the cruisers are the main weaponry of the vessels, the pyramid structure itself has a shockwave pulse it can emit. Something like that, though, the enemy will learn early on. It seems more like a last resort weapon, considering the strain it puts on the power sources.
“It is our shields,” Miko speaks up again quietly, “that may give us the best advantage.”
John looks to the screen at the Weir, which is the closest Furling ship to the approaching armada. “We’ll know soon enough.” With luck, the stealth shields will be something the Ori can’t see through-much like the Ancients, according to Lemuria’s records.
It’s a tense silence that descends over the radio, and John feels his shoulders twitch as they watch the slowly approaching ships. The two warships leading the pack unleash their swarm of fighters as they pass the asteroid belt. The Sun Tzu has moved close enough to take the first shot, to see if new Asgard weaponry is enough.
John winces when the warship’s shields flare. A hundred fighters break off to attack the Earth ship, when it makes its second shot.
This one burns straight through and destroys one of the launch bays.
There is cheering over the radio, even among the sounds of battle taking place, and through it John can just make out, “Hermiod you little asshole I could kiss you!”
If it weren’t for the pants thing, John would totally agree with Rodney.
As it is, the Sun Tsu’s own shields are starting to flare at the onslaught, and while the shot damaged one warship, the second one opens fire with its main weapon. He can see sparks on the hull upon impact, and while the Asgard weapon upgrades may be great, apparently the shields are still shaky at best.
“Weir,” Landry says, “let’s see what you can do.”
Chuck obligingly changes the view to the Weir and the damaged warship. Though hundreds of fighters are still approaching, none seem to have noticed the rather large ship. The edges at the top of the pentagon seem to spark purple lightning, and then three bolts shoot out, striking a half dozen fighters in a single blow.
Then the energy jumps to another dozen. And another.
Nearly sixty fighters are destroyed in their first shot. And from the reactions, the rest are scrambling, completely unaware of who or what fired the weapon.
Which is when the Ori warship unleashes its own yellow beam of destruction.
And misses.
Not by much. The Weir’s shields are glanced, but it’s already moving, still destroying fighters with its weapon. Other warships are releasing their fighters, but the McKay and Sheppard are now within range.
Five thousand fighters. 4500, his mind corrects automatically. Considering how effecting the Furling weapons are, John’s beginning to wonder if they’ll even have more than a few hundred get through.
Shouldn’t have thought it. A thousand suddenly break off from the massive swarm and just make a straight run towards Earth. “That’s us,” he says to the sister ships, and seventy-five cruisers break orbit to intercept the fighters. John coordinates with the three pyramids to be just far enough apart that each pulse shockwave, should they have to use it, won’t overlap with each other.
Before the screen changes, the McKay tilts on its axis, its top pentagon unfolding into a pentagram. The purple lightning jumps from each point to the other of the star, until they arch together in the center in an effect reminiscent of the Death Star and, what John can best describe as ball lightning, hurtles through space, cuts through the Ori shields and blasts apart one of the warship’s main canons. The energy dances across the hull and entire sections are disintegrated as the discharge fades.
“Holy shit,” Chuck mutters.
Cadman exchanges a look with Lorne. “Could we actually win this?”
John’s question is more focused on, if this is the warship weapon, what the hell can Lemuria itself do?
And more frighteningly, just how devastating was the war between the Furlings and the Ancients?
Then there’s no time for thoughts because the cruisers and darts are in range and though the cruisers weapons are more familiar directed energy beams, it’s allowing the dart pilots to hone in for more accurate shots against the invisible enemy. They manage to wipe out nearly two hundred in cross-lances of violet energy before one of the smaller cruisers is destroyed by fifty well-placed shots.
Then one of the largest ones is lost as well, a mix of good shots and at least four suicide runs.
By the time they’ve lost half their fleet, there’s still six hundred darts trying to make a run for Earth. The nearest group is closest to the Ronon, whose shields seem to have inverted and the stealth vanished, if the pot shots of the fighters are any indication.
Nearly half of the remaining darts converge to exterminate the Ronon, which is when there’s a blinding flare of white light from the ship. Even John has to shield his eyes a moment, but when he looks back, the Furling ship is surrounded by debris. A quick glance at Chuck’s screen shows two of the five sides of the pyramid are without power, but its shields are up at quarter power. “Kelly, you’re done. Go join the Grodin and Gall.”
“Understood,” comes the harried reply, though she doesn’t sound exhausted or frightened. Given that the darts seem to have lost her, it looks like the stealth shield is still functional and no major damage was done to the ship itself.
A glance at the map overlay shows they’ve lost all but seven of their cruisers, and the darts are being a little more careful approaching Earth, aware that there might be more traps like the Ronon. Farther out, additional fighters have been launched, but five of the Ori warships are down, and the Sheppard and McKay are tag-teaming the two closest to Earth.
It’s not all good news. Another thousand fighters has made it through, approaching Earth from another vector. The Sun Tsu and Apollo are limping-in the case of the Sun Tsu, the bridge is missing, along with entire chunks of the ship. The Deadalus is staying strong, but only because it’s weaving around the Furling ships. And the Weir appears have lost its stealth, one warship focusing its fire along with hundreds of darts-though its shield is holding so far.
They’re close to winning, but there’s still a good chance there’ll be damage to Earth before the day is out.
Which is when Rodney jumps on the line and says, “We have confirmation from the Supergate! Radek, activate the Sangraal!”
“Zaplat panbuh! Weapon is activated. Vysrat se na Ori!”
For half a second, John thinks they’ve won, but a curse from Lorne reminds him that the Gods are dead, but the crusade is still on. A glance at the screen shows three cruisers left, and yes, nearly twelve hundred fighters and one Ori warship have made it past their defense line.
“Rodney,” comes Carson’s slightly unsteady voice, “Should I use the chair?”
“Not yet. Stackhouse?” And then Lemuria moves, sliding over the planet and in front of the invading force in such a smooth move that he really has to buy the Marine a drink. Flying a city that effectively deserves to be admired and praised for years.
“Daaaaamn,” Lorne says as Cadman lets out a low whistle.
While the stealth shield has proven effective, it appears Rodney has turned it off as the fighters all veer towards the city, and the warship actually halts its approach, as if it’s surprised at the city’s appearance. There’s an epic pause that covers the moment.
Then all five towers at the center of each pentagram’s point erupts purple light in the form of a wave around it-akin to the wave Chaya used to defend her planet. It’s just as effective, too, as in that one bold stroke all the fighters are gone. No debris, none flying as if knocked out of orbit, not even bits of ash floating in the solar wind. Just gone.
If anything, the warship backs up.
Then its engines burst to full strength and it’s approaching the city.
Ramming speed.
“McKay,” he yells involuntarily. He doubts even the Furling shields can handle that sort of damage.
The weapons fire again, this time reminiscent of the Death Star ball lightning of the McKay, but to a much, much larger scale. The impact against the Ori ship isn’t just an energy strike, it actually flings the oval vessel away, tilting it up and back as the shields struggle and fail to keep the destructive energy out. The next shot obliterates the ship entirely.
“Fifteen percent power,” McKay says smugly.
John’s starting to get a picture of just how the Furlings destroyed the planets they impacted before leaving for their technology-free utopia. The Ancients have their faults, but they’re intentions were initially benevolent, and at one point they felt sympathetic to the natives they observed.
For the first time, he’s really, really glad the SGC never encountered the Furlings. The destruction potential of their technology, their methods upon departing this galaxy…
There’s a darkness about them that John never, ever wants to meet in person.
There’s another scan, to make sure there’s no stragglers. The Sheppard finishes off the ships hounding the Weir, which apparently lost some of its shields, if the hole in one of its sides is any indication. The strike ships have lost all of their cruisers, and the Sun Tzu is essentially a derelict.
They won the battle.
Now the question is can they win the war.
~*()*~
They reconvene on Lemuria, where Rodney laments the damage done to the ships-“And just where do you think we can get spare cruisers from, Colonel, where? Do you think the Furlings just left those plans lying around?!”-and gloats about their success in fighting off the armada.
John just keeps his thoughts to himself, though he sees the rest of his team connecting the same dots he did earlier.
General Landry join them by holographic projection in the meeting room. Like the rest of Furling design, it’s a pentagonal table made of the strange obsidian composite and silver, intricately designed seats with no backs. Though the Apollo and Daedalus are parked on Lemuria to handle repairs before shipping the crews Earthside, both Caldwell and Ellis asked if he could report in on their behalf so they could focus on their ships. From some of the sounds of it, the commanders of the Furling vessels put the same request to Rodney as well.
Once they’re all seated in the Furling meeting room, Landry starts them off. “Good work everyone. The President has a commendation waiting for all of you.” Rodney rolls his eyes, but otherwise keeps quiet. John just nudges him with his elbow. “McKay, what’s our status?”
He huffs and sets his hands on the table. “Lemuria is fine, they never got a shot off. We’ll be back on the moon in about an hour.” He grimaces then. “The strike cruisers have lost their entire fleet, and one of the power sources in the Ronon was knocked offline. I’m not sure I can get it restarted.”
“Understandable. Considering everything, they still performed admirably.”
Rodney scoffs. “Of course they did. I wouldn’t let them out there if they weren’t in peak condition.” This time, it’s Landry that rolls his eyes. “The McKay and Sheppard are fine. Shields need some repair, but otherwise the Ori couldn’t land any devastating hits. The Weir, however, will definitely need repairs. The stealth system has been completely fried, and seven decks are exposed to space.”
“And the Earth ships?”
At this, Rodney slumps a bit. “The Sun Tzu will require a massive overhaul. Or maybe melted for slag and remade. I don’t know yet. It’s still out there, we’ll tow it in when we’re settled. The Apollo is out for the count, half the systems are dead and the other half barely function. The Daedalus lost three shield emitters and its weapons systems.”
Landry nods, then looks to John. “Casualties?”
Letting his emotions fall behind a blank stare, John dutifully reports, “Fifty-eight from the Sun Tzu are dead, another thirty-three wounded. Apollo and Daedalus rescued as many survivors as they could. The Weir crew was only in engineering and the main bridge, which are exceptionally protected. Minor injuries. About sixteen burns between the Furling controls overloading.”
It could be a lot worse. A whole lot worse. He doesn’t even want to think what would’ve happened if they hadn’t found Lemuria.
“Any signs of survivors from the Ori?”
“Not yet, sir. But once Lemuria lands we’ll be making another sweep to confirm.”
“Good. Any other word from SG-1?”
Chuck shakes his head, but it’s Rodney who answers. “No. The Jumper’s been silent since the announcement came. No sign of the Odyssey or additional Ori warships.”
“Let’s pray the latter stays that way. How about the weapon? Can we confirm it was deployed successfully?”
At this, projection screen with Zelenka appears, hair crazier than normal, but otherwise looking exceptionally calm. “Orlin said it would work, I assume it works. Unless we have an ascended sensor somewhere and I was neglectfully uninformed.”
“Not yet. Give me a week,” Rodney mutters.
“Yes, of course.” There’s actually little sarcasm in the tone, though some challenge does bleed through. “Device is still active. I believe any Ori or Ancient will die if they enter the galaxy.”
Landry nods. “All right. We’ll leave it active until SG-1 returns. Dr. McKay, please continue scanning for Ori incursion. Considering the strength of the Furling ships, they’ll be our first line of defense.”
“Assuming I can get the Weir active again.” He types his fingers on the table as if there were a laptop. He frowns momentarily, confused. Looking closely, he can see Rodney’s as exhausted as John feels, probably more so since getting the Ronon and Teyla operational ate into his rest time.
“Sir, I’d recommend at least four hours down-time for anyone who was engaged in the battle, or helped prep for it.”
Rodney opens his mouth to object, but Landry cuts him off with an, “Agreed. Four hours. We’ll check in in five, unless there’s any additional Ori sighting. Landry out.”
The connection’s cut. Zelenka doesn’t bother saying goodbye, just waving at them absently as his feed vanishes.
It leaves the rest of them in the briefing room. John exchanges a brief nod with Lorne and Stackhouse, and then he prods Rodney with his foot. “Come on, time for all astrophysicists and saviors of humanity to get some rest.”
A scowl is aimed at him. “In case you’ve forgotten, Colonel, I still need to get repair inventories, determine just how much strain Lemuria suffered by using its weapons, not to mention-“
“After.” He kicks Rodney’s ankle gently. “You need to sleep.”
“What I need is for Colonels-“
“McKay,” he uses his quiet command tone, “four hours minimum. If I have to drug you and drag you to quarters, I will.”
Rodney’s mouth clicks closed, and then he harrumphs and pulls himself out of his chair. “Fine. Four hours. Not a minute more,” he points a finger at John’s face.
John offers him his most trustworthy grin. “Scout’s honor.” The ‘bullshit’ is plain to read in the glare Rodney gives him. John makes sure to take an extra minute to stretch as he gets up, before heading for the door, Rodney at his side. “So, where do you think SG-1 is?”
“Probably chasing down Daniel’s theory on the Ark. Or maybe fighting Adria. Even ascended I bet she didn’t die, crazy power-hungry prophet wannabe.” There’s a thoughtful look. “Maybe they’ll find a cure for Orlin.”
“That really bugs you, doesn’t it.”
“It’s bad enough the Ancients,” it’s said with a sneer, “left us to not only fight, but win their war. They won’t even let the man-boy-whatever, keep what sanity he has left. If there’s any sort of cure, we’ll find it.”
“Maybe,” John hedges. “You think you can get him back to Atlantis?”
“I’d like to,” he sighs, “but probably not. If he’s stuck on Earth, maybe I’ll…you know, visit. To have all that knowledge, and then have it taken away bit by bit, to lose your mind…”
Glancing around and seeing the coast is clear, John puts his arm around Rodney as they reach the transporter and he presses the destination to Rodney’s quarters. “Maybe I can teach him football.”
Rodney reads between the lines and offers him a crooked grin. It isn’t until they’re at the room door that he nudges John with his elbow. “So, savior of the human race?”
“Thought I’d play to your ego.”
“Thoughtful, but not necessary.”
“Yeah, but completely true.” Twice in a month, he can’t help but think as he presses his hand against the metal surface to the left of the door. The silver non-Euclidian lattice retracts from the wall and he can feel the static from the field vanish. To get into quarters in Lemuria, one has to actually walk through a holographic wall that doubles as a shield. It’s pretty cool, John thinks, once you get used to walking through what looks like stone.
The inside of Rodney’s quarters are much as they were on Atlantis, including a large bathroom and tub, a special extra wide mattress, and degrees and diplomas hanging on the walls. There’s also a picture of Euler, and Jeannie and family, and some from their time on Atlantis. Only someone really sharp would notice that the images of John actually outnumber all the others, cleverly hidden in plain sight.
John actually likes it. There’s no balcony, but it feels almost like the home he lost. Spinning around, he sits on the edge of the bed and unlaces his boots.
Rodney sits beside him. “Four hours,” he accuses.
“Yes dear.” John makes a point of setting his watch.
Rodney smacks his arm before lying down. “Ass.”
John grins and rolls over to lay beside him, reaching to the wall to glide his hand over the strange square bit of lattice that controls the light. In the dark, he wiggles closer to Rodney. Quietly, he says, “We won.”
“Yeah,” Rodney says back.
There’s a moment of silence.
“Rodney?”
“Hrm?”
“Do you still miss it?” They both know what it is, never need to actually say the name.
“Of course,” he mumbles. “Don’t you?”
John shuts his eyes. “Yeah.”
Neither of them calls the other out on lie.
Author: Cypher
Fandom: Stargate Atlantis
Universe: The Return to Normalcy
Main Characters: John Sheppard, Rodney McKay, Lorne, Cadman, Landry, Carter
Summary: "The fleet comes for Earth. The Ori are here to burn Avalon.”
Pairing: Sheppard/McKay, Teal'c/Cam (if you squint), Carter/Pete
Rating: R
Word Count: 13,000
Notes: I've been toying with this plot dangle for a while, and the 10 Year Anniversary for SGA is just too good an opportunity to pass up! This is what happens in the Ark of Truth in the "Return to Normalcy" 'verse--or rather, what happens with John and Rodney, and the lost city of Lemuria. The order of the stories (currently) is:
The Return to Normalcy
That Time Lorne Manages to Steal John's TV
The Myth of Makepeace
What About Teyla & Ronon?
Ark of Truth - Part 2
~*( Part 1 )*~
It takes another day for Lemuria to move to a stationary orbit above the North Pole. Lifting off from the dark side of the moon goes smoothly, but then they have to coordinate with Earth’s satellites to ensure no civilians accidentally catch a glimpse of the city mid-flight. The IOA continues to hope that Earth will remain ignorant of the SGC and what’s going on in the grander universe, but John’s pretty sure after this attack the secrecy of the program will be blown wide open.
He’s got some mixed feelings about that.
The Weir, McKay, and Sheppard are flying in concert with the Daedalus and the newly completed Apollo and Sun Tzu. There’s a fourth, the Phoenix, that the SGC is trying to rush to completion, but John doubts they’ll even get it into orbit, much less battle ready. The six ships are at a midpoint between Mars and Earth orbit, equidistant and constantly patrolling.
Though highly underpowered, both the Grodin and Gall still have basic weapons and shields that theoretically can withstand a shot or two from an Ori warship. They’re staying close to Earth and staffed with skeleton crews, all of whom are aware that their job is to act as blockades, nothing more. There’s a couple Atlantis personnel on board, but most are those who were staffed on the Prometheus, the ones who felt they should’ve gone down with their ship and have been living half-lives at the SGC.
John knows exactly how they feel, and really wishes they had their own versions of SG-20 to help them through the darkness. He ended up being one of the lucky ones.
On the bridge of the Ford, he’s manning the pilot controls and keeping them in a parallel orbit to the moon. Cadman’s on the weapon console and Chuck is almost bouncing in his seat, once again in charge of ship logistics and sensors. Lorne isn’t at the central pentagon of stations, he’s behind John, manning the cruiser controls for when they launch the twenty-five automated vessels. For a change, Miko has actually left the safety of Lemuria and is stationed at engineering. In fact, almost the entire staff of the Ford are ex-Atlantis personnel. Supposedly, they all volunteered the instant they heard both the name of the ship and that John was captaining.
There was that chest-swelling feeling again, but at least this time he wasn’t alone, if the look on Rodney’s face at the announcement was anything to go by.
Rodney and Radek worked miracles and got two more Furling strike cruisers operational, giving them a fleet of nearly 80 small cruisers to fight off Ori darts-fighters. They’re functionally the same, and John keeps getting the terms mixed up in his head. Doesn’t help that except for coloring, they look the same. He and Rodney had a small celebration when Radek reported both strike ships were fully operational.
He certainly didn’t argue with the christening of the Teyla and Ronon. They aren’t manned by Atlantis personnel, but just the fact that his old team has been invoked in spirit is enough to make him think they have a shot.
Like the Ford, they’re keeping a close parallel orbit to the moon. They’re the second line of defense, in case the warships get past the six ships farther out.
“I’ve got something,” Chuck says suddenly.
“Yes, that’s the crystal clarity we all relied upon in Atlantis,” is Rodney’s acerbic reply from Lemuria.
“I’ve got another blip,” comes Caldwell’s voice. “Still no reply from the Supergate.”
Before travelling through, the Odyssey dropped off a cloaked Jumper. Supposedly, once the weapon was deployed, SG-1 will dial back and give them the go-ahead to exterminate the Ori here.
“Yes, thank you, Colonel. It’s not as if we’re not all watching the comm obsessively in the hopes of hearing-“
“McKay,” comes the heaving sigh from General Landry, who’s currently in the Antarctic outpost with Carson preparing to use what few drone weapons are still left in the platform. “Just confirm the situation.”
There’s a huff and nearly inaudible mutters before, “I’m reading seven-no, eight. Shit. Nine. Nine Ori warships entering the system. They’ll be passing Jupiter in under eleven minutes. I’d estimate no more than twenty before they’re in weapon’s range of the first line.”
“You heard the man,” Landry replies. “Furling warships and Daedalus-class ships, focus on the warships themselves. Sheppard, I want you to take out as many of their fighters as you can.”
“Yes sir.” A tall order, considering each warship holds 500 fighters. He glances back at Lorne, who nods and starts coordinating the cruiser launches with the Teyla and Ronon. There’s a deep, almost rhythmic pulse to the engines as the separation takes place, and the lights of the bridge change from an ambient orange to a crimson purple. With a few strokes of the crystal keys, Chuck brings two visuals up, one an overview of the entire Sol system, including the ships. The other, a visual of the three strike ships and their now launched cruisers.
Seventy-five differently sized triangular ships all zipping and flying in a controlled dance. There’s a deadly poetry to it that, if John were better at words, he’d definitely write down. From the way Lorne’s staring, he’s pretty sure there’ll be a few drawings of it in the future. “How’s it look?”
Lorne snaps back to attention and works his own controls. A third of the ships do lazy barrel rolls before the narrowest corner on the cruises start glowing an eerie lavender. “All ships responsive, weapons systems online, shields at full strength.”
John glances at Miko and raises an eyebrow. “Versus Ori fighters?”
She pushes her glasses up and ducks, trying to avoid his gaze. “Our cruisers should have no difficulty penetrating their shields, nor are the fighter weapons a sizable threat individually. There is likely, however, to be heavy losses on our side.”
Cadman grimaces. “Death by a thousand stings.”
Miko bobs her head. “Yes. They have nearly five thousand fighters. We have no method to replenish our own ships at this time.”
“Don’t worry,” Lorne says, “we’ll make every shot count.”
“Plus, there’s the Ford’s secret weapon,” Cadman throws in.
“One trick pony, Lieutenant,” John reminds her. The Furlings had an extra bit of cunning when designing their strike ships. While the cruisers are the main weaponry of the vessels, the pyramid structure itself has a shockwave pulse it can emit. Something like that, though, the enemy will learn early on. It seems more like a last resort weapon, considering the strain it puts on the power sources.
“It is our shields,” Miko speaks up again quietly, “that may give us the best advantage.”
John looks to the screen at the Weir, which is the closest Furling ship to the approaching armada. “We’ll know soon enough.” With luck, the stealth shields will be something the Ori can’t see through-much like the Ancients, according to Lemuria’s records.
It’s a tense silence that descends over the radio, and John feels his shoulders twitch as they watch the slowly approaching ships. The two warships leading the pack unleash their swarm of fighters as they pass the asteroid belt. The Sun Tzu has moved close enough to take the first shot, to see if new Asgard weaponry is enough.
John winces when the warship’s shields flare. A hundred fighters break off to attack the Earth ship, when it makes its second shot.
This one burns straight through and destroys one of the launch bays.
There is cheering over the radio, even among the sounds of battle taking place, and through it John can just make out, “Hermiod you little asshole I could kiss you!”
If it weren’t for the pants thing, John would totally agree with Rodney.
As it is, the Sun Tsu’s own shields are starting to flare at the onslaught, and while the shot damaged one warship, the second one opens fire with its main weapon. He can see sparks on the hull upon impact, and while the Asgard weapon upgrades may be great, apparently the shields are still shaky at best.
“Weir,” Landry says, “let’s see what you can do.”
Chuck obligingly changes the view to the Weir and the damaged warship. Though hundreds of fighters are still approaching, none seem to have noticed the rather large ship. The edges at the top of the pentagon seem to spark purple lightning, and then three bolts shoot out, striking a half dozen fighters in a single blow.
Then the energy jumps to another dozen. And another.
Nearly sixty fighters are destroyed in their first shot. And from the reactions, the rest are scrambling, completely unaware of who or what fired the weapon.
Which is when the Ori warship unleashes its own yellow beam of destruction.
And misses.
Not by much. The Weir’s shields are glanced, but it’s already moving, still destroying fighters with its weapon. Other warships are releasing their fighters, but the McKay and Sheppard are now within range.
Five thousand fighters. 4500, his mind corrects automatically. Considering how effecting the Furling weapons are, John’s beginning to wonder if they’ll even have more than a few hundred get through.
Shouldn’t have thought it. A thousand suddenly break off from the massive swarm and just make a straight run towards Earth. “That’s us,” he says to the sister ships, and seventy-five cruisers break orbit to intercept the fighters. John coordinates with the three pyramids to be just far enough apart that each pulse shockwave, should they have to use it, won’t overlap with each other.
Before the screen changes, the McKay tilts on its axis, its top pentagon unfolding into a pentagram. The purple lightning jumps from each point to the other of the star, until they arch together in the center in an effect reminiscent of the Death Star and, what John can best describe as ball lightning, hurtles through space, cuts through the Ori shields and blasts apart one of the warship’s main canons. The energy dances across the hull and entire sections are disintegrated as the discharge fades.
“Holy shit,” Chuck mutters.
Cadman exchanges a look with Lorne. “Could we actually win this?”
John’s question is more focused on, if this is the warship weapon, what the hell can Lemuria itself do?
And more frighteningly, just how devastating was the war between the Furlings and the Ancients?
Then there’s no time for thoughts because the cruisers and darts are in range and though the cruisers weapons are more familiar directed energy beams, it’s allowing the dart pilots to hone in for more accurate shots against the invisible enemy. They manage to wipe out nearly two hundred in cross-lances of violet energy before one of the smaller cruisers is destroyed by fifty well-placed shots.
Then one of the largest ones is lost as well, a mix of good shots and at least four suicide runs.
By the time they’ve lost half their fleet, there’s still six hundred darts trying to make a run for Earth. The nearest group is closest to the Ronon, whose shields seem to have inverted and the stealth vanished, if the pot shots of the fighters are any indication.
Nearly half of the remaining darts converge to exterminate the Ronon, which is when there’s a blinding flare of white light from the ship. Even John has to shield his eyes a moment, but when he looks back, the Furling ship is surrounded by debris. A quick glance at Chuck’s screen shows two of the five sides of the pyramid are without power, but its shields are up at quarter power. “Kelly, you’re done. Go join the Grodin and Gall.”
“Understood,” comes the harried reply, though she doesn’t sound exhausted or frightened. Given that the darts seem to have lost her, it looks like the stealth shield is still functional and no major damage was done to the ship itself.
A glance at the map overlay shows they’ve lost all but seven of their cruisers, and the darts are being a little more careful approaching Earth, aware that there might be more traps like the Ronon. Farther out, additional fighters have been launched, but five of the Ori warships are down, and the Sheppard and McKay are tag-teaming the two closest to Earth.
It’s not all good news. Another thousand fighters has made it through, approaching Earth from another vector. The Sun Tsu and Apollo are limping-in the case of the Sun Tsu, the bridge is missing, along with entire chunks of the ship. The Deadalus is staying strong, but only because it’s weaving around the Furling ships. And the Weir appears have lost its stealth, one warship focusing its fire along with hundreds of darts-though its shield is holding so far.
They’re close to winning, but there’s still a good chance there’ll be damage to Earth before the day is out.
Which is when Rodney jumps on the line and says, “We have confirmation from the Supergate! Radek, activate the Sangraal!”
“Zaplat panbuh! Weapon is activated. Vysrat se na Ori!”
For half a second, John thinks they’ve won, but a curse from Lorne reminds him that the Gods are dead, but the crusade is still on. A glance at the screen shows three cruisers left, and yes, nearly twelve hundred fighters and one Ori warship have made it past their defense line.
“Rodney,” comes Carson’s slightly unsteady voice, “Should I use the chair?”
“Not yet. Stackhouse?” And then Lemuria moves, sliding over the planet and in front of the invading force in such a smooth move that he really has to buy the Marine a drink. Flying a city that effectively deserves to be admired and praised for years.
“Daaaaamn,” Lorne says as Cadman lets out a low whistle.
While the stealth shield has proven effective, it appears Rodney has turned it off as the fighters all veer towards the city, and the warship actually halts its approach, as if it’s surprised at the city’s appearance. There’s an epic pause that covers the moment.
Then all five towers at the center of each pentagram’s point erupts purple light in the form of a wave around it-akin to the wave Chaya used to defend her planet. It’s just as effective, too, as in that one bold stroke all the fighters are gone. No debris, none flying as if knocked out of orbit, not even bits of ash floating in the solar wind. Just gone.
If anything, the warship backs up.
Then its engines burst to full strength and it’s approaching the city.
Ramming speed.
“McKay,” he yells involuntarily. He doubts even the Furling shields can handle that sort of damage.
The weapons fire again, this time reminiscent of the Death Star ball lightning of the McKay, but to a much, much larger scale. The impact against the Ori ship isn’t just an energy strike, it actually flings the oval vessel away, tilting it up and back as the shields struggle and fail to keep the destructive energy out. The next shot obliterates the ship entirely.
“Fifteen percent power,” McKay says smugly.
John’s starting to get a picture of just how the Furlings destroyed the planets they impacted before leaving for their technology-free utopia. The Ancients have their faults, but they’re intentions were initially benevolent, and at one point they felt sympathetic to the natives they observed.
For the first time, he’s really, really glad the SGC never encountered the Furlings. The destruction potential of their technology, their methods upon departing this galaxy…
There’s a darkness about them that John never, ever wants to meet in person.
There’s another scan, to make sure there’s no stragglers. The Sheppard finishes off the ships hounding the Weir, which apparently lost some of its shields, if the hole in one of its sides is any indication. The strike ships have lost all of their cruisers, and the Sun Tzu is essentially a derelict.
They won the battle.
Now the question is can they win the war.
~*()*~
They reconvene on Lemuria, where Rodney laments the damage done to the ships-“And just where do you think we can get spare cruisers from, Colonel, where? Do you think the Furlings just left those plans lying around?!”-and gloats about their success in fighting off the armada.
John just keeps his thoughts to himself, though he sees the rest of his team connecting the same dots he did earlier.
General Landry join them by holographic projection in the meeting room. Like the rest of Furling design, it’s a pentagonal table made of the strange obsidian composite and silver, intricately designed seats with no backs. Though the Apollo and Daedalus are parked on Lemuria to handle repairs before shipping the crews Earthside, both Caldwell and Ellis asked if he could report in on their behalf so they could focus on their ships. From some of the sounds of it, the commanders of the Furling vessels put the same request to Rodney as well.
Once they’re all seated in the Furling meeting room, Landry starts them off. “Good work everyone. The President has a commendation waiting for all of you.” Rodney rolls his eyes, but otherwise keeps quiet. John just nudges him with his elbow. “McKay, what’s our status?”
He huffs and sets his hands on the table. “Lemuria is fine, they never got a shot off. We’ll be back on the moon in about an hour.” He grimaces then. “The strike cruisers have lost their entire fleet, and one of the power sources in the Ronon was knocked offline. I’m not sure I can get it restarted.”
“Understandable. Considering everything, they still performed admirably.”
Rodney scoffs. “Of course they did. I wouldn’t let them out there if they weren’t in peak condition.” This time, it’s Landry that rolls his eyes. “The McKay and Sheppard are fine. Shields need some repair, but otherwise the Ori couldn’t land any devastating hits. The Weir, however, will definitely need repairs. The stealth system has been completely fried, and seven decks are exposed to space.”
“And the Earth ships?”
At this, Rodney slumps a bit. “The Sun Tzu will require a massive overhaul. Or maybe melted for slag and remade. I don’t know yet. It’s still out there, we’ll tow it in when we’re settled. The Apollo is out for the count, half the systems are dead and the other half barely function. The Daedalus lost three shield emitters and its weapons systems.”
Landry nods, then looks to John. “Casualties?”
Letting his emotions fall behind a blank stare, John dutifully reports, “Fifty-eight from the Sun Tzu are dead, another thirty-three wounded. Apollo and Daedalus rescued as many survivors as they could. The Weir crew was only in engineering and the main bridge, which are exceptionally protected. Minor injuries. About sixteen burns between the Furling controls overloading.”
It could be a lot worse. A whole lot worse. He doesn’t even want to think what would’ve happened if they hadn’t found Lemuria.
“Any signs of survivors from the Ori?”
“Not yet, sir. But once Lemuria lands we’ll be making another sweep to confirm.”
“Good. Any other word from SG-1?”
Chuck shakes his head, but it’s Rodney who answers. “No. The Jumper’s been silent since the announcement came. No sign of the Odyssey or additional Ori warships.”
“Let’s pray the latter stays that way. How about the weapon? Can we confirm it was deployed successfully?”
At this, projection screen with Zelenka appears, hair crazier than normal, but otherwise looking exceptionally calm. “Orlin said it would work, I assume it works. Unless we have an ascended sensor somewhere and I was neglectfully uninformed.”
“Not yet. Give me a week,” Rodney mutters.
“Yes, of course.” There’s actually little sarcasm in the tone, though some challenge does bleed through. “Device is still active. I believe any Ori or Ancient will die if they enter the galaxy.”
Landry nods. “All right. We’ll leave it active until SG-1 returns. Dr. McKay, please continue scanning for Ori incursion. Considering the strength of the Furling ships, they’ll be our first line of defense.”
“Assuming I can get the Weir active again.” He types his fingers on the table as if there were a laptop. He frowns momentarily, confused. Looking closely, he can see Rodney’s as exhausted as John feels, probably more so since getting the Ronon and Teyla operational ate into his rest time.
“Sir, I’d recommend at least four hours down-time for anyone who was engaged in the battle, or helped prep for it.”
Rodney opens his mouth to object, but Landry cuts him off with an, “Agreed. Four hours. We’ll check in in five, unless there’s any additional Ori sighting. Landry out.”
The connection’s cut. Zelenka doesn’t bother saying goodbye, just waving at them absently as his feed vanishes.
It leaves the rest of them in the briefing room. John exchanges a brief nod with Lorne and Stackhouse, and then he prods Rodney with his foot. “Come on, time for all astrophysicists and saviors of humanity to get some rest.”
A scowl is aimed at him. “In case you’ve forgotten, Colonel, I still need to get repair inventories, determine just how much strain Lemuria suffered by using its weapons, not to mention-“
“After.” He kicks Rodney’s ankle gently. “You need to sleep.”
“What I need is for Colonels-“
“McKay,” he uses his quiet command tone, “four hours minimum. If I have to drug you and drag you to quarters, I will.”
Rodney’s mouth clicks closed, and then he harrumphs and pulls himself out of his chair. “Fine. Four hours. Not a minute more,” he points a finger at John’s face.
John offers him his most trustworthy grin. “Scout’s honor.” The ‘bullshit’ is plain to read in the glare Rodney gives him. John makes sure to take an extra minute to stretch as he gets up, before heading for the door, Rodney at his side. “So, where do you think SG-1 is?”
“Probably chasing down Daniel’s theory on the Ark. Or maybe fighting Adria. Even ascended I bet she didn’t die, crazy power-hungry prophet wannabe.” There’s a thoughtful look. “Maybe they’ll find a cure for Orlin.”
“That really bugs you, doesn’t it.”
“It’s bad enough the Ancients,” it’s said with a sneer, “left us to not only fight, but win their war. They won’t even let the man-boy-whatever, keep what sanity he has left. If there’s any sort of cure, we’ll find it.”
“Maybe,” John hedges. “You think you can get him back to Atlantis?”
“I’d like to,” he sighs, “but probably not. If he’s stuck on Earth, maybe I’ll…you know, visit. To have all that knowledge, and then have it taken away bit by bit, to lose your mind…”
Glancing around and seeing the coast is clear, John puts his arm around Rodney as they reach the transporter and he presses the destination to Rodney’s quarters. “Maybe I can teach him football.”
Rodney reads between the lines and offers him a crooked grin. It isn’t until they’re at the room door that he nudges John with his elbow. “So, savior of the human race?”
“Thought I’d play to your ego.”
“Thoughtful, but not necessary.”
“Yeah, but completely true.” Twice in a month, he can’t help but think as he presses his hand against the metal surface to the left of the door. The silver non-Euclidian lattice retracts from the wall and he can feel the static from the field vanish. To get into quarters in Lemuria, one has to actually walk through a holographic wall that doubles as a shield. It’s pretty cool, John thinks, once you get used to walking through what looks like stone.
The inside of Rodney’s quarters are much as they were on Atlantis, including a large bathroom and tub, a special extra wide mattress, and degrees and diplomas hanging on the walls. There’s also a picture of Euler, and Jeannie and family, and some from their time on Atlantis. Only someone really sharp would notice that the images of John actually outnumber all the others, cleverly hidden in plain sight.
John actually likes it. There’s no balcony, but it feels almost like the home he lost. Spinning around, he sits on the edge of the bed and unlaces his boots.
Rodney sits beside him. “Four hours,” he accuses.
“Yes dear.” John makes a point of setting his watch.
Rodney smacks his arm before lying down. “Ass.”
John grins and rolls over to lay beside him, reaching to the wall to glide his hand over the strange square bit of lattice that controls the light. In the dark, he wiggles closer to Rodney. Quietly, he says, “We won.”
“Yeah,” Rodney says back.
There’s a moment of silence.
“Rodney?”
“Hrm?”
“Do you still miss it?” They both know what it is, never need to actually say the name.
“Of course,” he mumbles. “Don’t you?”
John shuts his eyes. “Yeah.”
Neither of them calls the other out on lie.