Reparations by skeddy_kat (Dark Side Challenge)
Author: skeddy_kat
Title: Reparations
Character: McKay
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: About 2500
Summary: The folks on Atlantis were making quite a name for themselves in the Pegasus Galaxy.
Summer was in full swing on M3S-448. The temperature was hovering around 31 (degrees Celsius, thank you very much - Canadian here!) and Rodney knew his teammates expected him to be complaining about the heat. He would have been, except he was trying to track such intriguing energy readings. Even better, the readings were right near the gate for a change - no miles of hiking to unknown destinations.
There seemed to be multiple sources, about six of them, but they were hard to pin down. Either something was interfering with his readings or -
“Colonel, I think there might be someone out there.”
“I thought you didn’t have any life sign readings?” Sheppard moved up beside him, glancing at the device in Rodney’s hand.
“I don’t,” Rodney explained, “but I think these energy signatures might be masking the life signs. It would explain why they’re mobile.”
At that point everything seemed to happen at once. An unsteady voice called out for them to drop their weapons. Sheppard, Teyla, and Ronon brought up their weapons, spinning to try and spot the threat. A series of whines rang out and Sheppard, Teyla and Ronon fell. Rodney was torn between reaching for his sidearm and checking to see if Sheppard was still alive.
“Don’t move, Dr. McKay.” While the voice might have been unsteady, the hand holding the weapon wasn’t. The boy holding it couldn’t have been more than about 15, his five friends were probably younger. “Your companions are only unconscious. They will be fine, so long as you do as I say.” Just lovely, more hoodlums in the throes of puberty.
“What is it with armed children in this galaxy?” Rodney muttered. He glared at his captors. “I assume there’s a reason I’m still standing and they aren’t. How do you know who I am? What do you want?”
“You. We need you to fix something for us. If you do, we’ll let you go.”
“What? You couldn’t have just asked? What the hell is the matter with you people?” He looked down at Sheppard, sprawled in a graceless heap. “I need to check on him, first.”
“No. We go now, Dr. McKay.” The voice was no longer uncertain, it was merely hard.
Fear flashed through Rodney; fear that the kid had lied and his team was dead. He had to know - he couldn’t leave without knowing. He dropped to his knees and reached for Sheppard’s wrist. Sharp pain flared in his head and everything went black.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Rodney woke to the sound of arguing in the next room. He was lying on a small bed, covered with a light blanket. Soft light filtered into the room through pale blue curtains covering two large half-open windows. The walls were rough hewn wood covered with woven tapestries showing various scenes of a magnificent fairytale-like city.
Thinking now might be a good time to escape the homicidal adolescents, Rodney started for the open windows. He got as far as pushing himself up onto his elbows when the room started spinning and he felt like someone was jabbing an ice pick into his skull. On second thought, maybe he’d stay for a bit longer. He fell back to the bed, fighting nausea.
The argument next door continued. Since he wouldn’t be making a daring escape any time soon, he listened in; trying to learn something he could turn to his advantage. He recognized the strident tones of his captor. The other voice was female, older, and carried a sense of authority. Right now, the tone reminded him of a teacher about to mete out serious punishment.
“It was not your decision to make!”
“We need to find why the harnesses are failing. We need to fix them. McKay can fix them. I recognized him from the posters, so I brought him here. It was not a hard choice. I will lead our people one day. You have to start letting me make decisions. Instead you keep treating me like a child.” Yes, that was definitely his captor sounding decidedly defensive.
“That is because you act like one. Don’t you understand, Tal? These are Lanteans.”
“Is that supposed to make me afraid?” The boy’s voice was still defiant.
“It should. You may have doomed us all. You cannot lead us if there is no one left to lead. Look at what we know about them. Sheppard, the man you left unconscious, killed over 60 Genii in the space of an afternoon. He has become the nightmare they threaten unruly children with. The Lanteans went to Hoff - the Hoff are no more. They lost over half of their world’s population before the Wraith came. Shortly after a visit by the Lanteans, the Olesians were destroyed, perhaps by the Wraith, perhaps not. The stories all agree the Lanteans were involved.”
Rodney couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Where did these people get their information? How did everything get twisted so that they ended up being the bad guys?
“Rumors on the wind.” Tal’s voice was scornful. “They weren’t that impressive. I brought them down with a handful of children. I’m not afraid of them, Maeve.”
“Then you are a fool.” Maeve’s voice was flat. “The entire Dorandan system is gone; turned to nothingness by the very man lying in the next room. No one knows how many people, how many worlds, died there. On Melakan, they drained all power the Tower used protecting its people from the Wraith. By a surprising coincidence, Taranis was all but destroyed during a Lantean visit. Their world was consumed in fire. Death and destruction follow these people everywhere they go.
“They never leave one of their own behind and you brought one of them here! You injured him. What do you think will happen now? They will come for him, and we will pay.”
Rodney was vaguely offended by what he heard. He wanted to defend himself, defend Atlantis, and say, “Hello, the Dorandan system was unoccupied by living beings and, yes, I screwed up - but I was trying to find a way to save us all from the Wraith; the Tower was using its power (and its weapons) against its own people; and we didn’t cause what happened on Taranis - we saved lives there.” He wanted to tell them that the Genii had attacked Atlantis and the Hoff were the instrument of their own destruction. The only thing his kidnappers had right was that his team wouldn’t leave one of their own behind. Oh, and speaking of that, wasn’t he due for a rescue right about now?
He shut his eyes, playing unconscious, as the door to his room opened. Soft footsteps approached the bed and there was a clank as something was set on the bedside table.
“Dr. McKay?” The voice belonged to the woman, Maeve. Rodney continued to feign sleep. A hand took his shoulder and shook it gently. “Dr. McKay?”
Obviously, she wasn’t going to go away. “What?” he snapped. “Come to beat on me some more? Go away. I have nothing to say to you.” He didn’t even open his eyes.
“This tea will help the pain and reduce any dizziness. Once you are feeling better, I will bring some food.” Her calm voice reminded him a little of Teyla’s.
Reluctantly he opened his eyes and looked at her. She was older than he’d expected - around thirty, and dressed in the simple homespun style that vied with military uniforms for haute couture on most Pegasus planets. Dark brown eyes regarded him gravely with no evidence of the fear or turmoil he’d heard before.
“Drink,” she said softly, holding the cup toward him. “Once the pain subsides we will talk.” He made no move to drink. She smiled slightly, “If you fear poison, I will drink from the cup first.”
The tea was bitter, unpleasant, and effective. The pain in his head began to subside almost immediately. Carson would like it. If these people weren’t homicidal maniacs, it would even be a viable item for trade.
How should he play this? Should he explain their misconceptions about Atlantis? Should he play on their fears and try and threaten them into releasing him? Why couldn’t he be better at the whole “dealing with people” thing? He decided to try for neutral and aloof until he had enough data to call them good guys or bad guys.
“OK, so talk. The hoodlum who kidnapped me and shot my friends said you needed my help. Strange, where I come from we usually ask someone first. We don’t get to the shooting part until way, way later.”
“My name is Maeve. I stand as leader of my people. On their behalf, I apologize for my nephew’s actions. We offer your people reparations.” Her language was more formal than before and she looked like she was expecting an answer.
“Fine, fine,” Rodney said. “Just get me back to my team. I need to see that they’re all right.”
“Your companions are fine; the weapon Tal used merely stuns. I’m afraid I cannot return you to your people right away. Tal transported you here from the Ring. To return would be a four day walk. Even if you were well enough to travel, the chances are great that we would pass your friends as they came looking for you. We will have to wait for them to come here.”
“Can’t you just transport me back?”
“The harnesses do not work that way,” Maeve explained. “They bring the wearer here to the city. We keep a team at the Ring to watch for Wraith and return and warn the village.” She had the grace to look embarrassed. “We have never needed to return to the Ring quickly.”
Rodney figured that the harness things explained the energy readings at the Gate. He questioned Maeve about them, learning that where there had once been many, now just a handful remained operational. He also learned that the village was shielded from the Wraith. Having people at the Gate wearing the harnesses and transporting back with warning of a Wraith attack allowed the villagers to get to safety before the Darts traveled as far as the village.
Rodney found he was interested, in spite of himself. Forgetting about the last vestiges of his headache, Rodney asked Maeve to bring him a working and nonworking harness. If he could tell how to fix the harnesses, maybe they could build some kind of relationship with these people. They had a functioning shield and teleporting harnesses. Who knew what else they might have?
Using the working harness as a guide, Rodney found he could identify the problems with the broken harness without much difficulty. The technology reminded him of the transporters on Atlantis. He worked on the harnesses for several hours, eating the food Maeve brought without really paying much attention to it. He was focused on the harnesses. He felt so close to understanding how they worked well enough to build his own. He managed to repair about a dozen of them before Maeve insisted he stop and rest for the evening. That night he dreamed of schematics and shields.
In the morning Maeve brought him water to wash up in and breakfast. When she returned to clear everything away, he was already elbow-deep in harness repair. Realizing she hadn’t left the room, he looked up to find her watching him, hesitantly.
“Yes? What is it?” He tried not to be too brusque, but he was busy.
“There is a good chance your companions will arrive today if they returned for one of the flying ships.”
“Yes, and I’ll be headed off with them. Not that it hasn’t been fun, with the kidnapping and getting hit in the head, and all. Although the working on the harness thing, that actually was fun. Say, before I leave, can I take a look at your shield mechanism?”
“Yes, of course. Someone will show you whatever you desire. When your friends arrive, I will speak to them and make reparations. That will suffice?”
“Fine,” Rodney told her, back to work and not really listening. He had permission to look at the shield, nothing else really mattered. On the other hand, maybe they’d let him take one of the broken harnesses in payment for all of his repairs.
It was only four harnesses later that he heard a familiar voice in his ear. “McKay, this is Sheppard. Are you receiving this?”
“Loud and clear, Colonel.” It was about time they got here.
“You OK?”
“I’m fine. Things turned out rather well, actually. I think I made us some new friends. Let me know when you get into the village. I have new toys to show you. We should definitely come back and spend some time with these people.”
“Right,” Sheppard drawled. “We’ll be there in about five minutes.”
~~~~~~~~~~~
Rodney met his team outside of Maeve’s cottage. None of the villagers were in sight. Sheppard held his P90 ready. “Nice to see you’re still with us, McKay. So, where are all these new friends you were talking about? This place looks like a ghost town.”
“I think they’re worried you’ll be angry. You’d be surprised the ideas these people have about us.” Rodney looked around. “Maeve?” he called.
After a moment, Maeve stepped out from a cottage across the way wearing a white gown with golden trim - a radical change from her earlier outfits. She walked toward them, stopping a short distance away.
“Lanteans,” she began formally, “I am Maeve, the leader of this village. On its behalf, I apologize for the offense committed by our people and offer reparations. Please accept this offering and spare my people.” She raised her arms high in the air, and then brought them down in front of her. Only when the blood began to spread across the white of her dress, did Rodney see the knife.
“Maeve!” He ran to her, catching her as she fell. “Why?” he whispered.
“Please, Doctor, will this be sufficient?” Her hands pulled weakly at his. “Is the debt paid? Please don’t hurt my people.”
This was her idea of reparations? He wanted to scream at her, to ask her what the hell she thought she was doing and why she would ever think they wanted this from her. He wanted to tell her she was stupid, and her actions were pointless and wasteful, and ask who would lead her people now- a boy with no common sense or self-discipline? There were so many things he wanted to say, but instead he looked at her pleading face and said softly, “All debts are paid. We will not hurt your people.”
“Thank you.” She smiled, and then closed her eyes for the last time.
Rodney looked at his team in confusion. “I don’t understand these people at all. I thought we were going to be friends. I thought we were going to trade. Why would she do this?”
Sheppard knelt beside him and gently lifted Maeve from his arms and laid her in the grass.
He stood and laid a hand on Rodney’s shoulder. “Come on, Buddy. Let’s go home.”
They walked to the Puddle Jumper without looking back.
Title: Reparations
Character: McKay
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: About 2500
Summary: The folks on Atlantis were making quite a name for themselves in the Pegasus Galaxy.
Summer was in full swing on M3S-448. The temperature was hovering around 31 (degrees Celsius, thank you very much - Canadian here!) and Rodney knew his teammates expected him to be complaining about the heat. He would have been, except he was trying to track such intriguing energy readings. Even better, the readings were right near the gate for a change - no miles of hiking to unknown destinations.
There seemed to be multiple sources, about six of them, but they were hard to pin down. Either something was interfering with his readings or -
“Colonel, I think there might be someone out there.”
“I thought you didn’t have any life sign readings?” Sheppard moved up beside him, glancing at the device in Rodney’s hand.
“I don’t,” Rodney explained, “but I think these energy signatures might be masking the life signs. It would explain why they’re mobile.”
At that point everything seemed to happen at once. An unsteady voice called out for them to drop their weapons. Sheppard, Teyla, and Ronon brought up their weapons, spinning to try and spot the threat. A series of whines rang out and Sheppard, Teyla and Ronon fell. Rodney was torn between reaching for his sidearm and checking to see if Sheppard was still alive.
“Don’t move, Dr. McKay.” While the voice might have been unsteady, the hand holding the weapon wasn’t. The boy holding it couldn’t have been more than about 15, his five friends were probably younger. “Your companions are only unconscious. They will be fine, so long as you do as I say.” Just lovely, more hoodlums in the throes of puberty.
“What is it with armed children in this galaxy?” Rodney muttered. He glared at his captors. “I assume there’s a reason I’m still standing and they aren’t. How do you know who I am? What do you want?”
“You. We need you to fix something for us. If you do, we’ll let you go.”
“What? You couldn’t have just asked? What the hell is the matter with you people?” He looked down at Sheppard, sprawled in a graceless heap. “I need to check on him, first.”
“No. We go now, Dr. McKay.” The voice was no longer uncertain, it was merely hard.
Fear flashed through Rodney; fear that the kid had lied and his team was dead. He had to know - he couldn’t leave without knowing. He dropped to his knees and reached for Sheppard’s wrist. Sharp pain flared in his head and everything went black.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Rodney woke to the sound of arguing in the next room. He was lying on a small bed, covered with a light blanket. Soft light filtered into the room through pale blue curtains covering two large half-open windows. The walls were rough hewn wood covered with woven tapestries showing various scenes of a magnificent fairytale-like city.
Thinking now might be a good time to escape the homicidal adolescents, Rodney started for the open windows. He got as far as pushing himself up onto his elbows when the room started spinning and he felt like someone was jabbing an ice pick into his skull. On second thought, maybe he’d stay for a bit longer. He fell back to the bed, fighting nausea.
The argument next door continued. Since he wouldn’t be making a daring escape any time soon, he listened in; trying to learn something he could turn to his advantage. He recognized the strident tones of his captor. The other voice was female, older, and carried a sense of authority. Right now, the tone reminded him of a teacher about to mete out serious punishment.
“It was not your decision to make!”
“We need to find why the harnesses are failing. We need to fix them. McKay can fix them. I recognized him from the posters, so I brought him here. It was not a hard choice. I will lead our people one day. You have to start letting me make decisions. Instead you keep treating me like a child.” Yes, that was definitely his captor sounding decidedly defensive.
“That is because you act like one. Don’t you understand, Tal? These are Lanteans.”
“Is that supposed to make me afraid?” The boy’s voice was still defiant.
“It should. You may have doomed us all. You cannot lead us if there is no one left to lead. Look at what we know about them. Sheppard, the man you left unconscious, killed over 60 Genii in the space of an afternoon. He has become the nightmare they threaten unruly children with. The Lanteans went to Hoff - the Hoff are no more. They lost over half of their world’s population before the Wraith came. Shortly after a visit by the Lanteans, the Olesians were destroyed, perhaps by the Wraith, perhaps not. The stories all agree the Lanteans were involved.”
Rodney couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Where did these people get their information? How did everything get twisted so that they ended up being the bad guys?
“Rumors on the wind.” Tal’s voice was scornful. “They weren’t that impressive. I brought them down with a handful of children. I’m not afraid of them, Maeve.”
“Then you are a fool.” Maeve’s voice was flat. “The entire Dorandan system is gone; turned to nothingness by the very man lying in the next room. No one knows how many people, how many worlds, died there. On Melakan, they drained all power the Tower used protecting its people from the Wraith. By a surprising coincidence, Taranis was all but destroyed during a Lantean visit. Their world was consumed in fire. Death and destruction follow these people everywhere they go.
“They never leave one of their own behind and you brought one of them here! You injured him. What do you think will happen now? They will come for him, and we will pay.”
Rodney was vaguely offended by what he heard. He wanted to defend himself, defend Atlantis, and say, “Hello, the Dorandan system was unoccupied by living beings and, yes, I screwed up - but I was trying to find a way to save us all from the Wraith; the Tower was using its power (and its weapons) against its own people; and we didn’t cause what happened on Taranis - we saved lives there.” He wanted to tell them that the Genii had attacked Atlantis and the Hoff were the instrument of their own destruction. The only thing his kidnappers had right was that his team wouldn’t leave one of their own behind. Oh, and speaking of that, wasn’t he due for a rescue right about now?
He shut his eyes, playing unconscious, as the door to his room opened. Soft footsteps approached the bed and there was a clank as something was set on the bedside table.
“Dr. McKay?” The voice belonged to the woman, Maeve. Rodney continued to feign sleep. A hand took his shoulder and shook it gently. “Dr. McKay?”
Obviously, she wasn’t going to go away. “What?” he snapped. “Come to beat on me some more? Go away. I have nothing to say to you.” He didn’t even open his eyes.
“This tea will help the pain and reduce any dizziness. Once you are feeling better, I will bring some food.” Her calm voice reminded him a little of Teyla’s.
Reluctantly he opened his eyes and looked at her. She was older than he’d expected - around thirty, and dressed in the simple homespun style that vied with military uniforms for haute couture on most Pegasus planets. Dark brown eyes regarded him gravely with no evidence of the fear or turmoil he’d heard before.
“Drink,” she said softly, holding the cup toward him. “Once the pain subsides we will talk.” He made no move to drink. She smiled slightly, “If you fear poison, I will drink from the cup first.”
The tea was bitter, unpleasant, and effective. The pain in his head began to subside almost immediately. Carson would like it. If these people weren’t homicidal maniacs, it would even be a viable item for trade.
How should he play this? Should he explain their misconceptions about Atlantis? Should he play on their fears and try and threaten them into releasing him? Why couldn’t he be better at the whole “dealing with people” thing? He decided to try for neutral and aloof until he had enough data to call them good guys or bad guys.
“OK, so talk. The hoodlum who kidnapped me and shot my friends said you needed my help. Strange, where I come from we usually ask someone first. We don’t get to the shooting part until way, way later.”
“My name is Maeve. I stand as leader of my people. On their behalf, I apologize for my nephew’s actions. We offer your people reparations.” Her language was more formal than before and she looked like she was expecting an answer.
“Fine, fine,” Rodney said. “Just get me back to my team. I need to see that they’re all right.”
“Your companions are fine; the weapon Tal used merely stuns. I’m afraid I cannot return you to your people right away. Tal transported you here from the Ring. To return would be a four day walk. Even if you were well enough to travel, the chances are great that we would pass your friends as they came looking for you. We will have to wait for them to come here.”
“Can’t you just transport me back?”
“The harnesses do not work that way,” Maeve explained. “They bring the wearer here to the city. We keep a team at the Ring to watch for Wraith and return and warn the village.” She had the grace to look embarrassed. “We have never needed to return to the Ring quickly.”
Rodney figured that the harness things explained the energy readings at the Gate. He questioned Maeve about them, learning that where there had once been many, now just a handful remained operational. He also learned that the village was shielded from the Wraith. Having people at the Gate wearing the harnesses and transporting back with warning of a Wraith attack allowed the villagers to get to safety before the Darts traveled as far as the village.
Rodney found he was interested, in spite of himself. Forgetting about the last vestiges of his headache, Rodney asked Maeve to bring him a working and nonworking harness. If he could tell how to fix the harnesses, maybe they could build some kind of relationship with these people. They had a functioning shield and teleporting harnesses. Who knew what else they might have?
Using the working harness as a guide, Rodney found he could identify the problems with the broken harness without much difficulty. The technology reminded him of the transporters on Atlantis. He worked on the harnesses for several hours, eating the food Maeve brought without really paying much attention to it. He was focused on the harnesses. He felt so close to understanding how they worked well enough to build his own. He managed to repair about a dozen of them before Maeve insisted he stop and rest for the evening. That night he dreamed of schematics and shields.
In the morning Maeve brought him water to wash up in and breakfast. When she returned to clear everything away, he was already elbow-deep in harness repair. Realizing she hadn’t left the room, he looked up to find her watching him, hesitantly.
“Yes? What is it?” He tried not to be too brusque, but he was busy.
“There is a good chance your companions will arrive today if they returned for one of the flying ships.”
“Yes, and I’ll be headed off with them. Not that it hasn’t been fun, with the kidnapping and getting hit in the head, and all. Although the working on the harness thing, that actually was fun. Say, before I leave, can I take a look at your shield mechanism?”
“Yes, of course. Someone will show you whatever you desire. When your friends arrive, I will speak to them and make reparations. That will suffice?”
“Fine,” Rodney told her, back to work and not really listening. He had permission to look at the shield, nothing else really mattered. On the other hand, maybe they’d let him take one of the broken harnesses in payment for all of his repairs.
It was only four harnesses later that he heard a familiar voice in his ear. “McKay, this is Sheppard. Are you receiving this?”
“Loud and clear, Colonel.” It was about time they got here.
“You OK?”
“I’m fine. Things turned out rather well, actually. I think I made us some new friends. Let me know when you get into the village. I have new toys to show you. We should definitely come back and spend some time with these people.”
“Right,” Sheppard drawled. “We’ll be there in about five minutes.”
~~~~~~~~~~~
Rodney met his team outside of Maeve’s cottage. None of the villagers were in sight. Sheppard held his P90 ready. “Nice to see you’re still with us, McKay. So, where are all these new friends you were talking about? This place looks like a ghost town.”
“I think they’re worried you’ll be angry. You’d be surprised the ideas these people have about us.” Rodney looked around. “Maeve?” he called.
After a moment, Maeve stepped out from a cottage across the way wearing a white gown with golden trim - a radical change from her earlier outfits. She walked toward them, stopping a short distance away.
“Lanteans,” she began formally, “I am Maeve, the leader of this village. On its behalf, I apologize for the offense committed by our people and offer reparations. Please accept this offering and spare my people.” She raised her arms high in the air, and then brought them down in front of her. Only when the blood began to spread across the white of her dress, did Rodney see the knife.
“Maeve!” He ran to her, catching her as she fell. “Why?” he whispered.
“Please, Doctor, will this be sufficient?” Her hands pulled weakly at his. “Is the debt paid? Please don’t hurt my people.”
This was her idea of reparations? He wanted to scream at her, to ask her what the hell she thought she was doing and why she would ever think they wanted this from her. He wanted to tell her she was stupid, and her actions were pointless and wasteful, and ask who would lead her people now- a boy with no common sense or self-discipline? There were so many things he wanted to say, but instead he looked at her pleading face and said softly, “All debts are paid. We will not hurt your people.”
“Thank you.” She smiled, and then closed her eyes for the last time.
Rodney looked at his team in confusion. “I don’t understand these people at all. I thought we were going to be friends. I thought we were going to trade. Why would she do this?”
Sheppard knelt beside him and gently lifted Maeve from his arms and laid her in the grass.
He stood and laid a hand on Rodney’s shoulder. “Come on, Buddy. Let’s go home.”
They walked to the Puddle Jumper without looking back.