Team, Week 1: A Burden Shared (1/2)
Title: A Burden Shared
Author: wildcat88
Genre: Team
Prompt I see the bad moon rising/I see trouble on the way/I see earthquakes and lightnin'/I see bad times today (Creedence Clearwater Revival)
Word Count: ~17,700
Rating: PG
Warnings: None. Set Post-S5.
Summary: Unwilling to burden the others, each team member tries to endure a personal crisis alone. A difficult mission reminds them how much they need each other.
Notes: Many thanks to kristen999 for the beta. All faults mine.
A Burden Shared
John hung back, dribbling patiently while his guys got set on the makeshift court someone had created on the north pier. He grinned at Lorne then faked left and moved right, shooting a bounce pass at Ronon who snatched the ball, turned, elbowed Reardon in the face and dunked with room to spare.
“Son of a bitch!” Reardon’s shout was muffled by the hand he had slapped over his nose and mouth. He glanced down at his hand, now smeared with blood, and back up at Ronon. “I have a date tonight with that blonde in botany.”
Ronon shrugged. “It’ll make you look tough.”
“It’ll make me look like I got beat up.”
“Go see Keller,” John suggested. “She’ll have some magic potion to make you beautiful.”
Lorne huffed a laugh as he handed Reardon a towel. “Nothing is that powerful.”
“Funny.” Reardon got to his feet, dabbing at his nose with the towel. “I get at least two free throws for that.”
John shook his head. “No bleeding on the court, Lieutenant. Go, get that looked at before it swells up like a balloon.”
“Yes, sir.” Reardon headed toward the door with a final glare at Ronon. “I want a rematch tomorrow.”
“You’re on,” Ronon called after him.
John wiped his face with a towel from his bag then slung it around his neck. “Seriously, big guy, you can’t beat people up on the basketball court, and you know it. You’ve been playing for four years.”
“Makes it more interesting.”
“Makes you foul out of the game,” Lorne said. “By my count, that was five.”
Ronon looked unrepentant. “Dumb game anyway. Not much in it to keep a warrior’s skills sharp.”
John glanced at his watch, reluctant to have this conversation again. “Let’s call it a day, boys. I’ll see you at staff meeting at 0700.” He nodded at Lorne, waved at the rest of the players, and grabbed his bag, shifting mentally to the long list of duties still waiting for him before lights out. Forty-five new military personnel on Apollo’s last trip and the Daedalus was bringing in thirty-seven more. Good thing Atlantis was the size of Manhattan, though he still didn’t know where he was going to put them all. For now. Once they finished training, they would be assigned to a garrison. Of course, then he’d have another new group coming in.
Ronon jogged up next to him. “Don’t know why you like that game.”
“Because it’s fun.” John stopped at the doors and turned to face Ronon. “Not everything has to be a life-or-death struggle. Basketball is about athleticism, skill, and finesse. It works your hand/eye coordination, your depth perception, and your stamina as well as teaching teamwork. It’s not about beating the shit out of the opposing players.” John held his eye. “Even if you’re the most talented guy out there, you still have to play by the rules in order to win.”
“Thinking like that will get you killed.”
“Thinking like that builds discipline.” John walked inside, entered the transporter, selected crew quarters, and stepped out. “There are times to break the rules, but playing basketball isn’t one of them. You know that.” He stopped in front of his door and held Ronon’s eye. “What’s bothering you?”
Ronon’s gaze shifted sideways. “Nothing.”
“Has McKay been giving you lessons in lying? Because that really sucked.”
Ronon’s mouth twitched then his face went blank. “Don’t know what you mean.”
Avoiding grief was a dance John knew well, and he recognized it in Ronon’s eyes, saw it manifest itself in the short fuse, the restlessness, the jitters, the irrational responses. But the only thing John was worse at than expressing his own feelings was dealing with the emotions of others. Where was Teyla when he needed her?
“Fine, forget I asked.” John palmed the door open, feeling the burden for his friend grow heavier. “If you change your mind-”
“There you are! I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” McKay stumbled over a chair as he hurried down the hallway. “Why do you keep moving these around? I almost break my neck every time I come here.” He barely paused to breathe. “I want to change tomorrow’s mission destination. Teyla says there’s a planet reporting an evil moon. I think we should check it out.”
John did a double take. “What did you say?”
“Planet, evil moon, mission tomorrow.”
“Who are you, and what have you done with Rodney McKay?”
McKay’s face scrunched in confusion. “What?”
“Seriously?” John glanced between Ronon and McKay. “Ronon thinks discipline isn’t important and you want to check out an ‘evil moon.’ Is this a joke or did I suddenly enter the Twilight Zone?”
McKay looked at Ronon who shrugged. “Well, I don’t know why you’d be surprised at his lack of discipline. Have you seen him eat?”
Ronon laid a hand on the back of McKay’s neck and squeezed. “You ever want to eat again?”
“Easy.” McKay wriggled out of Ronon’s grasp. “I stopped falling for your threats a long time ago.” He slid sideways until he was almost behind John. “And I know where you keep your knives.”
Ronon grinned. “Not all of them.”
“Yes, well…”
“McKay, focus.” John sighed, feeling his left eye twitch. “Back to the evil moon.”
“Oh, right. Teyla says the people on M3W-712 are reporting that an evil moon should be rising this week.”
John pinched the bridge of his nose. “Get to the part where you started believing in evil moons.”
“Are you high?” McKay asked. “What makes you think I believe in evil moons?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe the fact that you want to go see one?” John leaned against the wall and folded his arms over his chest, letting his bag drop to the floor.
“I don’t believe it’s really evil. However, according to legend, every two hundred years the evil moon rises and wreaks havoc - monsoons, earthquakes, tsunamis, tornados, the works.” McKay held out his tablet. “I checked the database. Nothing there about weather experiments on that planet. But the locals say it started about the time the Ancients left. That can’t be a coincidence.”
John pushed off the wall. “You think something’s causing it.”
“Has to be. Plus every two hundred years? If these people can measure the frequency to the point of knowing what week it’s going to start…” McKay waggled his brows.
“And you believe them.”
“I believe Teyla,” McKay corrected. “She’s been right every time so far, no matter how ridiculous it sounded - the seer, visions of Kanaan.” His eyes pinched tight. “And if you hadn’t listened to her and Ronon about that shrine a few months ago…”
John couldn’t argue with that. Pegasus was filled with the unexplainable and extraordinary, but he was still surprised that McKay was open to going without hard scientific evidence. And the way Ronon was staring at McKay like he’d grown another head confirmed that John wasn’t alone.
“Okay,” John said. “Send the MALP-”
“Already done.” McKay poked at his tablet. “Everything’s in normal ranges. Temperature is a little warm for my taste-”
“When isn’t it?” Ronon mumbled.
“-but the gate is on a cliff near the village so we won’t have far to go. By my calculations, their sundown should be around our midmorning. We won’t even have to adjust our scheduled departure time,” McKay finished with a triumphant grin.
“Have you run it by Woolsey?” John asked.
“Of course. How else was I going to get the MALP sent?”
John lifted a brow. “Perfect. Then I’ll let you update all the schedules.”
McKay opened his mouth in protest then snapped it shut. “Fine. But if the cook yells at me again for making him mess up his white board, I will not be responsible for my actions.”
“Good,” John replied. “And when I find your dead body, I’ll know who to blame it on.”
“I’m laughing on the inside,” McKay snapped.
With a chuckle and a shake of his head, John watched McKay quick-step his way down the hall, and then turned his attention back to Ronon. “No more beating up the Marines on the basketball court. Understood?”
Ronon rolled his eyes. “Yeah.”
John stepped inside his quarters. “Want a beer?”
“Nah. Got some stuff to do.”
“Suit yourself. See you at dinner.”
John tossed his bag in the corner and sat on the edge of his bed, staring at the closing barrier between him and Ronon and wishing he had a clue what to do. With a sigh, he turned on his laptop and reread the eyes-only communiqué O’Neill had sent him a week ago, still at a loss how to answer.
oOoOo
Ronon waited until the door closed before he let his face twist with the snarl he’d been hiding for most of the day. He stomped down the hall, kicking a chair and slamming a fist against the transporter doors until they opened with a jerk. He stepped in and stabbed at the map, not caring where he went. The transporter deposited him in an unused section of the city, one that would be a perfect running spot - full of debris and other obstacles to keep his senses sharp. Ronon inhaled the musty air, sniffing for anything unexpected, then took off down the darkened hallway.
His pounding boots echoed in the empty space, and he lost himself in the rhythm, the splash of puddles, and the beating of his heart. He leaped over the crumpled remains of a chair, skirted around the twisted metal that had been a door, ducked under a groaning beam with wires that clung to him like a spider’s web.
His dreads whipped behind him. Blood rushed in his ears. His lungs couldn’t keep up. He ran anyway, as fast and as far as he could, the memories chasing him like the Wraith had, nipping at his heels, never letting him rest.
Ronon rounded the corner and skidded through a puddle. Chunks of concrete blocked most of the corridor. Overtaxed legs couldn’t get him high enough, and the toe of his boot caught the edge of the rubble, vaulting him over the pile and sending him sprawling. He slid a ways on his stomach before coming to rest against the wall in an undignified heap.
The all-consuming rage blasted through him again, and he screamed until his throat was raw. Ragged breaths hissed through gritted teeth as he rolled into a seated position and leaned his head against the wall, propping his forearms on his knees and letting his hands dangle, suddenly too exhausted to fight anymore.
The memories washed over him - Melena’s soft touch and the smile that made his knees weak, his mother’s laughter as he and his brothers carried her like a queen on her birthday, his father’s eyes welling with pride as he took top honors in strategy and weapons, his sister holding her son with one hand and bracing her pregnant belly with the other while she ran from the culling beams.
His head dropped forward as he swallowed thickly and clenched his eyes shut. The grief he’d been too busy to feel until now crushed down on him, wave after wave until he was sure he was drowning. His years as a runner had left him alone with the memory of the attack, but not until he reached Atlantis had he realized the extent of it. Seven years of hope had been obliterated with one video image, but even then he’d had other immediate concerns to focus on - the increased Wraith cullings, then Michael, then the Replicators, moving Atlantis, the missing Athosians. But they’d found the Athosians, killed Michael, destroyed the Replicators. The Wraith were fractured, fighting each other, while Keller was cooking up a retrovirus that ended their ability to feed and the war.
In the past, Ronon’s team had distracted him from the grief when things were calm. Sparring with Teyla and Sheppard, teaching McKay self-defense and learning some science in return, movie nights and day trips to the mainland and late night pranks on unsuspecting scientists had occupied his time and his mind. But though they were as close as ever, things were different with his team too now - new relationships and responsibilities keeping them mostly apart when they weren’t off-world.
Alone, all he had was his grief, and he didn’t know what to do with it. If he acknowledged it, dealt with it like he’d seen Teyla and Rodney and so many others do, what would be left of him? His entire adult life plus part of his childhood had been focused on one thing - defeating the Wraith - and while that was still his goal, the taste of revenge was no longer sweet.
Todd had asked Keller once who the Wraith would be without the war. When she’d repeated it to Ronon, she’d had no idea how close to home the statement had struck.
Who would he be without the war?
“Ronon?”
He flinched at Teyla’s voice, although the earpiece volume was no louder than usual. He scrubbed his hands over his face, cleared his throat, and activated the radio. “Yeah?”
“Will you be joining us for dinner?”
Ronon clenched his fists to stop his hands from shaking. “Not tonight. Got some stuff to finish.”
“Very well. I will see you in the morning.”
He sighed when the frequency clicked clear. He heard the worry and disappointment in her voice along with the promise that while she wouldn’t ask him directly, she’d talk around the problem during their mission until he spilled his guts.
Ronon suppressed the urge to go confess now and get it over with. He wasn’t ready to let go yet. He climbed to his feet and continued to run.
oOoOo
“He’s not coming?”
Teyla schooled her features then turned and smiled at John. “Not tonight. He says he has-”
“Stuff to do. Yeah, that’s what he told me three hours ago.” John stirred his chili, keeping his eyes downcast. He was quiet for a minute, his face twitching as it did when he became uncomfortable. “You have any idea what he’s grieving over?”
Shock washed over her, though she knew it really shouldn’t. John could be very perceptive at times, but she hadn’t realized anyone else had sensed Ronon’s pain yet. “He has not mentioned anything to me.”
“I keep thinking maybe his past is haunting him, but,” John gave a half-shrug, “Sateda was destroyed over a decade ago. Can’t be that, can it?”
“I am certain that when he is ready to tell us, he will.” Teyla smoothed the napkin on her lap and sliced into her pizza. “Ronon knows we will listen when he is ready to talk.”
John grunted in reply, his eyes focused on her knife as she cut another bite. “You know you’re supposed to eat pizza with your hands, right?”
“I know.” Teyla sliced in a hugely exaggerated motion and winked at him. “It is delicious either way.”
“You’ve spent too much time around McKay.”
Before Teyla could reply, two very young and very new Marines approached their table. With a nod, she rose to refill her water glass and to give John space to deal with them. She allowed her gaze to wander over the room, wilting a little inside when she realized she barely recognized half the faces. The influx of new personnel had increased as her time on Atlantis had decreased. Not that she regretted spending more time with her people - her Athosian people - but she had always made a point of getting to know every scientist and soldier, learning their skills and their interests, being a voice in team formation and mission assignments based on that knowledge. Elizabeth had valued her input and her ability to read people, as had Samantha. In the chaos that had coincided with Mr. Woolsey’s arrival, she had chosen to help her people rebuild their village on New Athos, and by the time she had returned to Atlantis and her team full time, Mr. Woolsey had established his advisors. And while he listened to her and occasionally took her advice, it wasn’t the same.
But if she were being completely honest with herself, she wasn’t that disappointed. She had a family now; Torren and Kanaan deserved her attention, and she gave every spare moment to them. John might jokingly suggest she spent too much time around Rodney, but she knew it was the opposite. She didn’t spend enough time with any of them anymore. Teyla knew Rodney’s relationship with Jennifer was blossoming - she could read it in their faces and body language - but she knew little else about what was going on in his life. John did his best to keep up with all of them; however, the new recruits from Earth were dominating his time. Between staff meetings, training exercises, skill evaluations, and missions, he barely had time to eat and sleep, which could explain why he had been more distracted than usual the past week.
Something had been torturing Ronon since they had landed on Earth. His distress had increased in the past few weeks, but his eyes had told her not to pry. Now that it had grown to the point that others were noticing, she would push him a little harder. Perhaps a sparring session would loosen his tongue, if he didn’t share with her during the mission the next day. They had not sparred in quite some time, and she could use the workout. The last time she had swung a bantos rod had been on New Athos with Halling as they practiced while they argued over the fate of their people. He was right, she knew he was, but she mourned the thought of combining their culture with others. Slowly their ways would merge with the ways of other societies, and the distinctiveness of Athosian culture would disappear. But the sad truth was they could no longer survive on their own - too much to do with too few to do it.
In the end, she had bowed her head in agreement and helped him pack the contents of his tent. She had held in the tears until she returned to Atlantis, and then she curled on her bed, clutching the blanket Charin had woven for her, and cried herself to sleep.
Kanaan was helping with the move to Tipul, once home to a vibrant people who had become victims of Michael’s experiments. Teyla had yet to mention it to her teammates, unwilling to add to their burdens. She had given the new gate address to Hannah, Mr. Woolsey’s assistant, so that they would know how to reach Kanaan in an emergency.
She was only now really beginning to understand the enormity of what Ronon had lost.
“Teyla?” John called, waving at her. “You gonna finish your dinner?”
She glanced around as she returned to her seat. “Have they already gone?”
John crushed a few crackers and stirred them into his chili. “Who?”
“The two Marines you were speaking with.”
“Oh, them. Yeah. They left a few minutes ago. You’ve been staring into space for a while.” John’s gaze darted to hers then back down at the table. “You okay?”
“I am…” Teyla hesitated, tasting the lie. “My people are having-”
John’s hand flew to his ear. “What is it, McKay? Of course, we’re at dinner. It’s dinnertime.” He made a rolling motion with his hand as he smiled apologetically at her. “Yes, we’ll be here for a few minutes.” His gaze lost focus. “What experiment?”
Teyla laughed to herself. Her heart had rejoiced at the friendship that had formed between two of the loneliest people she had ever met. At times they reminded her of her cousin’s twins - constantly bickering until the other needed something then pretending they hadn’t almost died trying to provide it. John trusted easily but never revealed much, while Rodney revealed everything and didn’t trust anyone. Over the years, John had learned to open up a tiny bit and Rodney had learned to trust. No one had been more shocked than Teyla when he believed her about the moon on Nesac, or M3W-712 as he called it. She had long hoped for the day when someone would believe her when she related a bit of Pegasus lore. She had expected it to be John. And though he would do anything for her, go anywhere based on her word, he would do it because he trusted her, not because he believed what she said. A subtle difference perhaps, but a difference nonetheless.
When she had told Rodney of the report from Nesac, she had braced herself for the scathing laughter and look of scorn she usually got when she talked about the peoples of Pegasus. When instead he’d leaned forward, eyes wide and sparkling with interest, she’d had to draw on all her skills to prevent herself from bursting into tears. Rodney had believed her, had trusted that she knew what she was talking about. Even now, she could barely wrap her mind around it.
“McKay’s almost here.” John waved at her cold pizza slice with his spoon. “Better eat that now if you want it.” He frowned. “What were we talking about?”
Teyla reached for her fork then changed her mind, and picked up her pizza with both hands. “You were going to tell me about your new personnel.”
oOoOo
“New personnel suck.” Rodney set his tray on the table and dropped into a chair. “Sam needs to stop telling the IOA how understaffed we are.”
“We are understaffed, McKay.”
“Only if we keep doing all the stuff the IOA wants, Sheppard.” Rodney eyed the remnants of Teyla’s pizza and glanced at the taco he had pinched between his thumb and forefinger. “Any idea what’s in this today?”
Teyla leaned over and sniffed. “Skirsk, I believe. The spices make it difficult to be certain.”
“Skirsk.” Rodney wrinkled his nose. “Do I like skirsk?”
“Yes,” Teyla replied. “You have it every time you visit New Athos.”
Rodney glanced up at the funny hitch in her voice. Sheppard apparently heard it, too, because he narrowed his eyes at Teyla and asked, “What’s wrong?”
Her eyes filled with tears, but before she could get her mouth open, the citywide comms blared to life.
“Colonel Sheppard, Doctor McKay, please report to the control room. Colonel Sheppard and Doctor McKay to the control room.”
“Oh, for God’s sake,” Sheppard growled. “Teyla…”
Teyla smiled and patted his hand. “Go. We will speak later.”
Rodney gazed mournfully at his untouched tray while his stomach rumbled.
“Here.” Teyla extended the pizza slice. “This is easier to eat on the run than a taco.”
“Thanks.” Rodney folded it in half and took a bite as he pushed away from the table and trotted after Sheppard. “What’s wrong with her?”
Sheppard heaved a sigh. “No idea. Somebody interrupts every time she starts to tell me.”
“She’s not pregnant again, is she?”
Sheppard stopped and glanced over his shoulder then shook his head and kept going. “No, she would’ve told me already. Besides, I don’t think she’d be upset about that.”
They rounded the corner, stepped in the transporter and stepped out on the command level.
“Oh.” Rodney’s step quickened as he caught sight of a group huddled around the long range sensors. “Well, maybe after her people get settled on their new world she’ll feel better.”
“What?” Sheppard screeched to a halt and stared at him. “What are you talking about?”
“Teyla’s people are moving. That new girl… Haley, Heather, Hilda…”
“McKay!”
“What’s-her-name was trying to update the emergency contact on Teyla’s file and couldn’t figure out how to change it since it was a gate address. I caught her banging on the keyboard and cursing like a sailor. Seriously, Sheppard, you should hear this girl. She’d make Lorne blush-”
Sheppard closed his eyes and breathed out in that loud counting-to-ten-before-I-kill-you exhale. “Rodney.”
“That’s all I know. She said Teyla asked her to change the gate address of her homeworld.”
“Did you look it up?”
“Yeah.” Revulsion rose in Rodney’s throat and he swallowed thickly. “Michael had one of his labs there. After we…exterminated what he’d left behind, the stragglers of a few dozen civilizations whose worlds or societies had been destroyed beyond repair set up camp. It’s basically Refugee Planet.”
“Why are the Athosians moving there?”
Rodney’s heart twisted in a way that was still new to him. “I don’t know for sure, but I can guess. You know how few of them Michael left. They aren’t viable as a people. If they stay on New Athos, they’ll die off in a generation or two.”
Sheppard’s head dropped forward, and he rubbed his eyes. “Damn it.”
Anger bubbled up in Rodney’s chest. “It’s a good thing she already threw him off the top of the tower because…because...”
The corner of Sheppard’s mouth quirked up. “Yeah, buddy, it sure is.” He sighed and turned his gaze toward Ops. “Let’s go see who needs us to save them this time.”
Rodney finished off the pizza as he followed Sheppard toward the control room. The buzzing voices quieted when they reached the console everyone was gathered around.
Zelenka looked up with a wide grin. “We have found something.”
“I would have never guessed,” Rodney replied. “Not with all these people standing around, not working.”
The techs and scientists scurried back to their stations, leaving room for Rodney and Sheppard to move behind Zelenka.
Rodney studied the display, his mind quickly translating the Ancient. “Are there any ships in the database that match these readings?”
“Ships?” Sheppard squinted at the display. “That’s a ship?”
“Not necessarily,” Zelenka answered. “Though I am reading a ZPM power signature from it. The…object is in a stationary orbit.”
“A space station?” Sheppard asked. “Over what planet?”
Rodney glanced down at the console. “That can’t be right.”
Zelenka’s grin widened. “It is.”
“What?” Sheppard demanded.
Rodney grabbed Zelenka’s chair and rolled him out of the way. “This says it’s in orbit over M3W-712.”
Sheppard’s brows shot up. “Your evil moon is actually a space station?”
“Yes.” Zelenka hovered behind Rodney, peeking over his shoulder. “I was running scans of the sector as you requested. While I was detailing the asteroid field between the second and third planets of the solar system, this moon just came to life.”
“Moons do not come to life,” Rodney snapped.
“Nor do they cause earthquakes and tornadoes every two hundred years,” Zelenka replied. “But this one does, according to you.”
“Well, being a space station could explain that.” Rodney wheeled the chair into place and sat down, staring at the screen and letting the thoughts in his head roam freely. “If someone is manning that station, they could be causing the weather phenomena.”
Sheppard leaned against the console, arms folded. “Really? And what exactly does one use to cause an earthquake?”
“Gee, Sheppard, I don’t know. I haven’t tried that lately. Though I did manage to use something the Ancients left to destroy five-sixths of a solar system once.” Rodney rolled his eyes. “And then there was that time an Ancient device gave me superpowers. And how about-”
“Point taken, McKay.” Sheppard rubbed at the furrow between his brows that seemed to grow deeper by the day. “So, I guess we’re saying that having a ZPM makes it an Ancient facility.”
“Unless you know someone else in this galaxy that uses ZPMs.”
“Gee, McKay, I seem to remember Todd borrowing a few.”
Rodney grimaced. He’d forgotten about that. “Okay, so probably Ancient, but maybe Wraith. Great.” He leaned back and looked at Sheppard. “What do you want to do?”
“Check it out.” Sheppard’s quick grin faded. “Cautiously. We haven’t had great success intervening in Ancient experiments and even worse success with Wraith ones. See what else you can find out. We’re wheels up at 0900.” He patted Zelenka’s shoulder. “Good job, Radek.”
“Wheels up,” Rodney muttered as Sheppard walked away. “Like a jumper has wheels.”
Suddenly the gate lit up and spun. Once the event horizon stabilized, the shield coalesced.
“Unscheduled activation,” Chuck reported. “No IDC yet.”
Zelenka pulled another chair close, his fingers dancing over the console. “Uh oh.”
“Uh oh? What the hell does ‘uh oh’ mean?”
“We are receiving a transmission. The…” Zelenka waved his hand wildly. “The station is communicating directly with Atlantis!”
“What?” Rodney turned to a nearby laptop and scanned the frequencies. “Oh, no no no! Shut down the gate.”
Chuck keyed in the command once then a second and a third time. “Gate will not disengage.”
“Damn it!” Rodney typed furiously, letting his mind direct his fingers without help from his eyes. “We have to stop it now!”
Sweat dripped off Zelenka’s nose. “I am trying!”
“Block, block, block, come on, damn it!” Rodney keyed in every jamming code he knew and invented a couple for good measure. “Well?”
“Still transmitting.” Zelenka mumbled something in Czech that had to be particularly vile based on the tone. “Wait… There!” He sagged back in his chair and pulled off his glasses as the gate shut down. “I have turned off the protocol to accept all Ancient transmissions.”
“That was in Ancient?” Rodney called up the source code of the transmission, leaning forward and unconsciously drumming his fingers on the console. “Are you sure?”
“Atlantis recognized it as Ancient although it is unlike any code I have seen before.”
Rodney twisted to face Chuck. “Figure out why you couldn’t shut the gate down. You,” he waved at Amelia, “make sure that transmission didn’t contain anything that’s going to bite us in the ass later, especially some kind of Wraith virus.” He turned back and began a diagnostic of the primary and secondary systems then searched the database for a form of code that matched what the facility had sent. “I don’t suppose Atlantis provided the translation.”
Zelenka snorted. “No. I will start the decryption process, but I believe it will take many hours to complete.” He sighed. “If we can decrypt it at all.”
“We have to. I have a mission there tomorrow.” Rodney snapped his fingers at the comms tech. “Get Chapman and… and… What’s-his-name - the new cryptologist Jackson insisted we needed - up here now. We’ve got work to do.”
The tech nodded and began the calls. The rest of the gate techs and scientists were running diagnostics on their equipment or staring at the code. Silence descended in the control room, interrupted only by the hum of laptops and the occasional muttered curse. Rodney ignored his growling stomach as he continued his search of the database. He glanced at his watch and sighed.
The email from Jeannie had waited two days already. It could wait for one more.
oOoOo
John fought the urge to get up and pace, checking has watch for the sixth time. Teyla sat behind to him, her fingers weaving intricate circles that were either for extreme knitting or a new bantos exercise while Ronon stood by the bulkhead doors and practiced the various cool ways he could draw and spin his blaster.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” McKay stumbled in the back of the jumper, vest and holster in one hand, tablet in the other. “I…I’m sorry.”
John narrowed his eyes and opened his mouth for the verbal slap-down he’d been planning for half an hour until he got a good look at McKay - eyes bloodshot and red-rimmed, face drawn and gray. Gray. “Damn, Rodney, did you sleep at all?”
“A little.” McKay tossed his equipment in the co-pilot chair and strapped on the holster with shaking hands. He tried to pull on his vest and caught his elbow in the arm hole. “Shit!”
Teyla moved to his side. “Here, let me help.”
She untangled him from the vest and held it so he could slide his arms in. Then Rodney slumped in his seat and let her zip it up. Every alarm bell in John’s head clanged in warning at how still McKay sat.
“What’s wrong?” John asked.
“Huh?” McKay looked at him blankly. “Are you talking to me?”
“Yes, Rodney, I’m talking to you. We’re not leaving until you tell me the bad news.”
McKay paled. “How did you… What bad news?”
If McKay hadn’t looked like he’d crumple in a million pieces, John would’ve smacked the back of his head. “Whatever is making you look like somebody kicked your dog. What the hell did that code say?”
McKay blinked in confusion then his eyes went wide. “Oh. It’s a summary of the atmospheric and weather patterns of the planet for the last two hundred years. Once we knew what to look for, we found other reports going back several thousand years. I’ve got a team of people combing through the data, but I don’t anticipate finding anything of concern.”
“Then what…” He trailed off as McKay’s jaw tightened and his gaze dropped. John winced internally - must be something personal. “You good to go on this mission?”
“Yeah.”
No scathing retort. No sarcastic tone. Must be worse than he thought. John’s grip tightened on the controls as he lifted off and felt the autopilot kick in to lower them into the gate room. First Ronon then Teyla and now McKay. His team was in pain, and he was powerless to help. He knew how to fight Wraith and Replicators and every nasty thing Pegasus had thrown at them, but damned if he knew how to fight…whatever was hurting them.
How could he not know what was wrong with his team?
Maybe he should take O’Neill up on that offer.
The gate rotated into view, and they shot through the wormhole and out to a cloudy sunset and winds that gusted hard enough to make John’s teeth rattle. The Nesac gate was on a cliff that overlooked a deep valley split by a river. The village had been built into the side of the mountain to the right of the water, and the left had been made into a terraced farm. John hugged the cliff as he angled toward the village, searching for a spot to land.
Teyla leaned forward to peer out at the black clouds spilling over the mountains to the left. “The storms are beginning?”
“Looks like it.” McKay poked at his tablet and glanced at the HUD. “The barometric pressure is going wild everywhere. It’s like a storm is brewing over the whole planet.”
“Stay here or head to the space station?” John asked.
McKay grimaced as he switched HUD readouts. “I was hoping to take some readings here first. If that station is responsible for these weather conditions, it has to be communicating with something on the planet. I may not be able to detect it if we take it offline from the station.”
Ronon hunched forward. “What difference does it make?”
“While I’m not saying the Ancients couldn’t have set up an experiment like this just to get their jollies, I think it’s more likely they were testing it as a weapon.” McKay turned to face Ronon. “We know the Wraith hibernate for centuries on planets.”
“But the Wraith were not hibernating while the Ancestors were here,” Teyla said. “They were at war.”
“You said this weather pattern didn’t start until after they’d left Pegasus.” McKay frowned at his tablet and began to type. “It’s all conjecture until we figure out what’s going on, but I don’t want to miss something important because I was in a hurry.” His face flushed. “I’ve done that too many times already.”
Veins of lightning exploded across the sky. John circled behind the village and set down between two buildings with inches to spare. “Maybe we should wait here for a little while,” he said as he powered down non-essential systems and turned on the shield. “I’m guessing the jumper is a little safer than one of those huts.”
“Actually, the Nesacians are known for their superior construction,” Teyla offered. “Many worlds seek their knowledge in preparation of rebuilding after a culling or other disaster.”
“Guess they’d have to be good at it with storms like this.” Ronon leaned forward, the flashes of lightning casting odd shadows on his face. “Must be tough.”
Teyla’s gaze grew distant. “I spent many days playing here as a child. Athos and Nesac had a strong trading alliance, and my father came often to keep the relationship healthy. These people are kind and fond of laughter.” She smiled softly. “If things were tough, as you say, they certainly never let it show.”
Lightning split the sky and thunder crashed immediately afterward. Driving rain sluiced down the shield and swirled then turned sideways. Hail bounced. The wind screamed.
John kept his eyes on the sky which had turned a sickly shade of green. “You think a tornado can pick up a shielded jumper?”
McKay gave a tight nod.
“Why?” Ronon asked.
“We have one on each side of the river.” McKay held up his tablet with the predicted path which led straight for them. “They’ll merge over the water. Let’s hope the stargate is anchored to the bedrock of the cliff.”
John watched the lightning blanket the sky. “I’m not sure I can fly through that. Do you have any idea what multiple lightning strikes will do to the jumper?”
“Nothing good,” McKay replied.
The small ship vibrated slightly then rocked side to side.
John called up the HUD to search for the rotation. A few hundred yards to his left. “Didn’t realize tornadoes felt so much like earthquakes.”
The nose of the jumper rose and dipped as the ground rolled beneath them.
“They don’t.” McKay changed the display. “That is an earthquake.”
“We should get out of here,” Ronon said.
McKay turned to stare at him. “And go where? We’ve got a tornado almost on top of us.”
The home in front of them swayed but didn’t collapse. The air was filled with debris - a cart, planks ripped from a building, farming implements, toys, the broken carcass of a goat-like animal. John flinched as a tree tried to spear them, only to deflect off the shield.
“Oh, great. More trouble,” McKay muttered. “I knew today was going to be bad.”
John held tightly to the chair’s arms as the jumper jarred violently. “What now?”
“We’re losing the shields.”
“You have got to be kidding. Why?”
“Well, it seems to be raining boulders at the moment.” McKay swept an arm toward the viewscreen as something large crashed into the home on their right. “That one just bounced off the shield.”
“We must do something,” Teyla urged.
“Like what?” McKay twisted in his seat to face her. “This is like flying through an asteroid field. The shields can only take so much abuse before they fail, and right now they are holding off the lightning, the hail, and all the trash the tornado is throwing at us. We can’t fly in this and we sure as hell can’t get out in it.”
Teyla stared at the damage the boulder had done to the home. “These people-”
“Have dealt with this for generations.” McKay sighed heavily. “I’m not unsympathetic, but we can’t help them right now.”
“Rodney’s right,” John interjected. “I’ve got a city full of new soldiers. We’ll bring back a platoon and help these people however we can. But we can’t stop this from happening.” He glanced at McKay. “How much longer is this storm going to last?”
“I cannot possibly know that.”
John gestured toward the viewscreen. “I’ve been through a few earthquakes in my time. It doesn’t matter how structurally sound these buildings are; if a fault opens up beneath them, they’ll be destroyed. If this is not natural, we need to find a way to stop it before their entire civilization is flattened.”
McKay looked back at Teyla. “How long do the effects of the evil moon typically last?”
“According to legend, a week,” she answered.
“You’re right. They aren’t going to survive if this keeps up.” McKay brought up the schematics on his computer. “Okay, I’ve boosted the shields with everything we’ve got short of engine power. If we’re going to the space station, do it now.”
John powered up and lifted off, wincing as the surrounding buildings wobbled. He hadn’t realized the shield was holding the structures upright. The home on the right flattened while the wall of the home on the left collapsed inward. He ignored Teyla’s gasp and Ronon’s muttered curse and pointed the nose of the jumper straight up, climbing toward the heavens and the roiling storm clouds at a ninety degree angle.
“Tornado is shifting,” McKay reported. “Heading right for us.”
John gritted his teeth and clutched the controls in a death grip, fighting the winds buffeting the small craft.
“Hurry!”
“I am hurrying, Rodney,” John growled, sweat dripping in his eyes and down his back. “Engines are sluggish.”
“That’s because the shield is sucking up all the power.”
Lightning slammed into the shield directly on top of the viewscreen. Blinded, John clenched his eyes shut and thought, Up! The jumper lurched, stalled then shot upward like a rocket.
“My eyes!” McKay shouted. “I can’t see!”
“Nor can I,” Teyla replied, a faint tremor belying her calm tone.
“Nobody can, McKay.” John called up the HUD in his mind, tracing their path. “Remind me the next time I’m bitching about the Ancients that I need to be grateful some things have a mental component. We should almost be clear of the planet.”
“We are,” Ronon said. “I, uh, wasn’t looking when the lightning hit.”
John opened his eyes. Nothing but pure white. No time to panic. “Have we cleared the atmosphere?”
Cloth rustled and an elbow bumped his arm. “Yeah,” Ronon said.
“Can you see the space station?”
“Not yet. Can you straighten out some?”
“I’ll try.” John concentrated on the controls. “How’s that?”
Ronon grunted. “Still don’t see it.”
John thought the HUD on and searched for a ZPM signature. “Do you see it on the HUD?”
“What would it look like?”
“Big blue dot,” McKay said. “Probably pulsing.”
“Got it.” More jostling. “Go, um, left.”
John banked left and when the engines hesitated, he shut down the shield. “How’s this?”
“Little more left,” Ronon said.
“Hey, I think my sight’s returning,” McKay announced. “I can see some dark around the edges… Unless I’m going completely blind which would really suck because-”
“Rodney,” John snapped. “Have your breakdown later. If you can see, help me find the station so we can save those people down there.”
“Oh, right.” McKay paused for a second. “Sorry. Still only shadows.”
“I can recovered somewhat,” Teyla said. “Head toward your eleven o’clock.”
John made the adjustment and the presence at his side vanished.
“How’d you know that?” Ronon asked.
John could actually hear the arch in Teyla’s brow. “I have lived in Atlantis for five years. Many people have clocks with wands.”
“Hands.” John tried to hide a smile. “Clocks have hands.”
“And faces,” McKay added.
“Whatever,” Ronon mumbled. “You’re going the right way now.”
John opened his eyes slowly and blinked a few times. McKay had been right - shadows. Spots of black on brilliant white. Please, God, let it clear up. “How much farther?”
“Not far,” Teyla answered. “Perhaps five minutes.”
John blew out a breath and forced his cramping hands to release the controls. Until his or Rodney’s sight returned, they couldn’t do much. “Don’t let me fly into the station.”
Teyla squeezed his arm. “Do not worry. We will not let that happen.”
“I just hope the Wraith don’t show up,” McKay mumbled.
“Way to think positive, McKay.” John kneaded his palms with his thumbs to get the circulation going, and to keep his hands away from his eyes.
“I can’t help it. I always assume the worst so I’m not disappointed later on.” Something thumped to the floor. “Aw, damn it. Can someone hand me the laptop?”
“I will get it,” Teyla said. “Is that a new picture of Jeannie and Madison?”
“Yeah.” Rodney’s voice sounded strange, like he was choking.
Teyla must have noticed, too. “Has something happened, Rodney?”
“What? Oh, um, no. I mean…” McKay sighed heavily. “Jeannie’s sick.”
“What illness does she have?” Teyla asked.
“Cancer,” Rodney whispered. He paused, his shaky breaths echoing in the silence. “They caught it early and it’s operable. The doctors think she’ll be fine.”
John twisted toward him. “But…”
“But what the hell do they know!” McKay exploded. “I’m surrounded by the most advanced technology in two galaxies and she has to have some quack cut her open to heal her. My sister is a freaking health nut! How does this happen? What if I…”
“What if you what?” John asked.
“What if I shut down the nanites too soon? They could have-”
“She’d be dead,” Ronon said. “You said so.”
“But if I had-”
“Ronon’s right, Rodney. You know those nanites would have killed her for sure. You saved her life. Besides, lots of people survive cancer, and Jeannie’s as tough as they come.” John blinked at the smear of color that was McKay. “She’d have to be, growing up with you.”
McKay’s splutter held equal parts laughter and indignation.
“Did she not say that she had to protect you on your walk home from school?” Teyla teased.
“Lies, all of it. I was in high school when she started Grade One.”
Ronon snorted. “So?”
Teyla slapped Ronon’s leg then leaned forward to pat Rodney’s shoulder. “If her doctors are as gifted as the ones on Atlantis, she will be fine.”
McKay nodded. “I emailed Sam before we left. I’m hoping someone at the SGC will take a look at her.”
When the HUD beeped a warning, John squinted at the gray blob in front of them. “The death star, I presume.”
McKay groaned. “You just couldn’t resist, could you?”
“Nope.” John blinked rapidly, hoping to bring the controls into focus. “How much can you see?”
“Shapes and colors,” McKay said. “I’ve still got starbursts in my vision.”
“Me too. Damn it.”
“Perhaps we can assist.” Teyla moved behind John. “I can put my hands over yours and guide the ship toward the dock.”
“Can you see it?” John asked.
“Call the HUD up,” Ronon said. “What am I looking for?”
McKay’s hand flopped around on the console. “Okay, that should activate the scans of the facility. Can you read Ancient?”
“A little. Learned most of the danger words after Sheppard got sucked into that time dilation field.”
“Huh. Well, usually the docking ports show up as small flashing orange dots but so do exhaust ports. If we get too close to one, you’ll see a warning appear on the HUD.”
“Think there’s a dock over there. See it?”
“Yes,” Teyla replied as she placed her hands on John’s. “We need to go up and to the right.”
John looked that way but saw only shades of gray. “Here goes nothing.” He kept his hands on the controls but allowed Teyla to guide them. The jumper lurched slightly. “Sorry.” He exhaled slowly and let his mind go blank, trusting Teyla.
After a minute, her grip tightened. “We are close.”
“No warnings on the HUD,” Ronon reported.
“The docking port is on the ceiling,” John reminded Teyla. “You need to maneuver under the docking clamp and ease upward.”
Her hair brushed his neck as she nodded.
“When she gets into place, you need to make sure the docking clamp is sealed or we’ll die when we open the hatch,” McKay said. “There’s a lever on the other side of the bulkhead doors that lowers the exit ladder. The controls for the hatch are under a panel next to it.”
“Got it.”
Metal scraped metal.
“I am sorry.” Teyla’s palms were clammy. “I am not sure what to do now.”
“Watch the HUD,” John said, mentally calling up the alignment display. “The two lines with a circle on top is us. Get the circle inside the orange dot.”
A few seconds later, the jumper bumped into something solid and stopped moving.
“What now?” Teyla asked.
“The HUD will tell you when the docking clamps have engaged.” McKay turned toward the rear. “When the lights turn purple, the seal is good. If the green button is lit, that means there is an unpressurized access tube.”
The jumper vibrated when something clanged against the roof.
“Got all purple,” Ronon reported. “The green button is dark.”
“Let’s go.” John ran his hands over his vest, checking the contents, while Teyla closed McKay’s laptop and set it aside then moved toward the back.
“I hope that seal is solid,” McKay muttered.
John looked to where he assumed Ronon and Teyla were then glanced over his shoulder at McKay’s blurry form. “It’s solid.” He clipped the P-90 Teyla handed him to his vest. “How’s your eyesight?”
“Getting better, I think, though I don’t remember your hair being flat like that.”
“What?” John brushed his hands over his hair.
McKay grinned. “You are so gullible sometimes.”
“You’ll pay for that later.”
“Oh, I’m so scared.”
“You done yet?” Ronon called from above them.
John moved to let McKay start climbing. “Coming, Mother.”
“Don’t make me kill you, Sheppard.”
“If you are done, there are people who need our help.” Teyla sounded disgusted. “Today.”
John fumbled around until he found the ladder. “On my way.”
When he reached the top, Ronon pulled him through and led him through a dimly lit room of smooth gray metal with familiar crystal sensors.
“Only exit,” Ronon said.
“Life signs?”
“Um…” McKay pulled the life signs detector from his vest and squinted at it, pulling it close then holding it at arm’s length. “Well, shit. I don’t know.”
Teyla peered over his shoulder. “There are none in the vicinity.”
“Well, come on, then,” John said. “Teyla, take point. Ronon, you cover our six.”
Teyla nodded and moved in front of him. She swiped at the sensors then pulled her P-90 to ready when the doors opened. She stepped through with McKay on her heels. John followed closely behind. A blinding light flashed.
Then nothing.
To Part 2
Author: wildcat88
Genre: Team
Prompt I see the bad moon rising/I see trouble on the way/I see earthquakes and lightnin'/I see bad times today (Creedence Clearwater Revival)
Word Count: ~17,700
Rating: PG
Warnings: None. Set Post-S5.
Summary: Unwilling to burden the others, each team member tries to endure a personal crisis alone. A difficult mission reminds them how much they need each other.
Notes: Many thanks to kristen999 for the beta. All faults mine.
A Burden Shared
John hung back, dribbling patiently while his guys got set on the makeshift court someone had created on the north pier. He grinned at Lorne then faked left and moved right, shooting a bounce pass at Ronon who snatched the ball, turned, elbowed Reardon in the face and dunked with room to spare.
“Son of a bitch!” Reardon’s shout was muffled by the hand he had slapped over his nose and mouth. He glanced down at his hand, now smeared with blood, and back up at Ronon. “I have a date tonight with that blonde in botany.”
Ronon shrugged. “It’ll make you look tough.”
“It’ll make me look like I got beat up.”
“Go see Keller,” John suggested. “She’ll have some magic potion to make you beautiful.”
Lorne huffed a laugh as he handed Reardon a towel. “Nothing is that powerful.”
“Funny.” Reardon got to his feet, dabbing at his nose with the towel. “I get at least two free throws for that.”
John shook his head. “No bleeding on the court, Lieutenant. Go, get that looked at before it swells up like a balloon.”
“Yes, sir.” Reardon headed toward the door with a final glare at Ronon. “I want a rematch tomorrow.”
“You’re on,” Ronon called after him.
John wiped his face with a towel from his bag then slung it around his neck. “Seriously, big guy, you can’t beat people up on the basketball court, and you know it. You’ve been playing for four years.”
“Makes it more interesting.”
“Makes you foul out of the game,” Lorne said. “By my count, that was five.”
Ronon looked unrepentant. “Dumb game anyway. Not much in it to keep a warrior’s skills sharp.”
John glanced at his watch, reluctant to have this conversation again. “Let’s call it a day, boys. I’ll see you at staff meeting at 0700.” He nodded at Lorne, waved at the rest of the players, and grabbed his bag, shifting mentally to the long list of duties still waiting for him before lights out. Forty-five new military personnel on Apollo’s last trip and the Daedalus was bringing in thirty-seven more. Good thing Atlantis was the size of Manhattan, though he still didn’t know where he was going to put them all. For now. Once they finished training, they would be assigned to a garrison. Of course, then he’d have another new group coming in.
Ronon jogged up next to him. “Don’t know why you like that game.”
“Because it’s fun.” John stopped at the doors and turned to face Ronon. “Not everything has to be a life-or-death struggle. Basketball is about athleticism, skill, and finesse. It works your hand/eye coordination, your depth perception, and your stamina as well as teaching teamwork. It’s not about beating the shit out of the opposing players.” John held his eye. “Even if you’re the most talented guy out there, you still have to play by the rules in order to win.”
“Thinking like that will get you killed.”
“Thinking like that builds discipline.” John walked inside, entered the transporter, selected crew quarters, and stepped out. “There are times to break the rules, but playing basketball isn’t one of them. You know that.” He stopped in front of his door and held Ronon’s eye. “What’s bothering you?”
Ronon’s gaze shifted sideways. “Nothing.”
“Has McKay been giving you lessons in lying? Because that really sucked.”
Ronon’s mouth twitched then his face went blank. “Don’t know what you mean.”
Avoiding grief was a dance John knew well, and he recognized it in Ronon’s eyes, saw it manifest itself in the short fuse, the restlessness, the jitters, the irrational responses. But the only thing John was worse at than expressing his own feelings was dealing with the emotions of others. Where was Teyla when he needed her?
“Fine, forget I asked.” John palmed the door open, feeling the burden for his friend grow heavier. “If you change your mind-”
“There you are! I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” McKay stumbled over a chair as he hurried down the hallway. “Why do you keep moving these around? I almost break my neck every time I come here.” He barely paused to breathe. “I want to change tomorrow’s mission destination. Teyla says there’s a planet reporting an evil moon. I think we should check it out.”
John did a double take. “What did you say?”
“Planet, evil moon, mission tomorrow.”
“Who are you, and what have you done with Rodney McKay?”
McKay’s face scrunched in confusion. “What?”
“Seriously?” John glanced between Ronon and McKay. “Ronon thinks discipline isn’t important and you want to check out an ‘evil moon.’ Is this a joke or did I suddenly enter the Twilight Zone?”
McKay looked at Ronon who shrugged. “Well, I don’t know why you’d be surprised at his lack of discipline. Have you seen him eat?”
Ronon laid a hand on the back of McKay’s neck and squeezed. “You ever want to eat again?”
“Easy.” McKay wriggled out of Ronon’s grasp. “I stopped falling for your threats a long time ago.” He slid sideways until he was almost behind John. “And I know where you keep your knives.”
Ronon grinned. “Not all of them.”
“Yes, well…”
“McKay, focus.” John sighed, feeling his left eye twitch. “Back to the evil moon.”
“Oh, right. Teyla says the people on M3W-712 are reporting that an evil moon should be rising this week.”
John pinched the bridge of his nose. “Get to the part where you started believing in evil moons.”
“Are you high?” McKay asked. “What makes you think I believe in evil moons?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe the fact that you want to go see one?” John leaned against the wall and folded his arms over his chest, letting his bag drop to the floor.
“I don’t believe it’s really evil. However, according to legend, every two hundred years the evil moon rises and wreaks havoc - monsoons, earthquakes, tsunamis, tornados, the works.” McKay held out his tablet. “I checked the database. Nothing there about weather experiments on that planet. But the locals say it started about the time the Ancients left. That can’t be a coincidence.”
John pushed off the wall. “You think something’s causing it.”
“Has to be. Plus every two hundred years? If these people can measure the frequency to the point of knowing what week it’s going to start…” McKay waggled his brows.
“And you believe them.”
“I believe Teyla,” McKay corrected. “She’s been right every time so far, no matter how ridiculous it sounded - the seer, visions of Kanaan.” His eyes pinched tight. “And if you hadn’t listened to her and Ronon about that shrine a few months ago…”
John couldn’t argue with that. Pegasus was filled with the unexplainable and extraordinary, but he was still surprised that McKay was open to going without hard scientific evidence. And the way Ronon was staring at McKay like he’d grown another head confirmed that John wasn’t alone.
“Okay,” John said. “Send the MALP-”
“Already done.” McKay poked at his tablet. “Everything’s in normal ranges. Temperature is a little warm for my taste-”
“When isn’t it?” Ronon mumbled.
“-but the gate is on a cliff near the village so we won’t have far to go. By my calculations, their sundown should be around our midmorning. We won’t even have to adjust our scheduled departure time,” McKay finished with a triumphant grin.
“Have you run it by Woolsey?” John asked.
“Of course. How else was I going to get the MALP sent?”
John lifted a brow. “Perfect. Then I’ll let you update all the schedules.”
McKay opened his mouth in protest then snapped it shut. “Fine. But if the cook yells at me again for making him mess up his white board, I will not be responsible for my actions.”
“Good,” John replied. “And when I find your dead body, I’ll know who to blame it on.”
“I’m laughing on the inside,” McKay snapped.
With a chuckle and a shake of his head, John watched McKay quick-step his way down the hall, and then turned his attention back to Ronon. “No more beating up the Marines on the basketball court. Understood?”
Ronon rolled his eyes. “Yeah.”
John stepped inside his quarters. “Want a beer?”
“Nah. Got some stuff to do.”
“Suit yourself. See you at dinner.”
John tossed his bag in the corner and sat on the edge of his bed, staring at the closing barrier between him and Ronon and wishing he had a clue what to do. With a sigh, he turned on his laptop and reread the eyes-only communiqué O’Neill had sent him a week ago, still at a loss how to answer.
oOoOo
Ronon waited until the door closed before he let his face twist with the snarl he’d been hiding for most of the day. He stomped down the hall, kicking a chair and slamming a fist against the transporter doors until they opened with a jerk. He stepped in and stabbed at the map, not caring where he went. The transporter deposited him in an unused section of the city, one that would be a perfect running spot - full of debris and other obstacles to keep his senses sharp. Ronon inhaled the musty air, sniffing for anything unexpected, then took off down the darkened hallway.
His pounding boots echoed in the empty space, and he lost himself in the rhythm, the splash of puddles, and the beating of his heart. He leaped over the crumpled remains of a chair, skirted around the twisted metal that had been a door, ducked under a groaning beam with wires that clung to him like a spider’s web.
His dreads whipped behind him. Blood rushed in his ears. His lungs couldn’t keep up. He ran anyway, as fast and as far as he could, the memories chasing him like the Wraith had, nipping at his heels, never letting him rest.
Ronon rounded the corner and skidded through a puddle. Chunks of concrete blocked most of the corridor. Overtaxed legs couldn’t get him high enough, and the toe of his boot caught the edge of the rubble, vaulting him over the pile and sending him sprawling. He slid a ways on his stomach before coming to rest against the wall in an undignified heap.
The all-consuming rage blasted through him again, and he screamed until his throat was raw. Ragged breaths hissed through gritted teeth as he rolled into a seated position and leaned his head against the wall, propping his forearms on his knees and letting his hands dangle, suddenly too exhausted to fight anymore.
The memories washed over him - Melena’s soft touch and the smile that made his knees weak, his mother’s laughter as he and his brothers carried her like a queen on her birthday, his father’s eyes welling with pride as he took top honors in strategy and weapons, his sister holding her son with one hand and bracing her pregnant belly with the other while she ran from the culling beams.
His head dropped forward as he swallowed thickly and clenched his eyes shut. The grief he’d been too busy to feel until now crushed down on him, wave after wave until he was sure he was drowning. His years as a runner had left him alone with the memory of the attack, but not until he reached Atlantis had he realized the extent of it. Seven years of hope had been obliterated with one video image, but even then he’d had other immediate concerns to focus on - the increased Wraith cullings, then Michael, then the Replicators, moving Atlantis, the missing Athosians. But they’d found the Athosians, killed Michael, destroyed the Replicators. The Wraith were fractured, fighting each other, while Keller was cooking up a retrovirus that ended their ability to feed and the war.
In the past, Ronon’s team had distracted him from the grief when things were calm. Sparring with Teyla and Sheppard, teaching McKay self-defense and learning some science in return, movie nights and day trips to the mainland and late night pranks on unsuspecting scientists had occupied his time and his mind. But though they were as close as ever, things were different with his team too now - new relationships and responsibilities keeping them mostly apart when they weren’t off-world.
Alone, all he had was his grief, and he didn’t know what to do with it. If he acknowledged it, dealt with it like he’d seen Teyla and Rodney and so many others do, what would be left of him? His entire adult life plus part of his childhood had been focused on one thing - defeating the Wraith - and while that was still his goal, the taste of revenge was no longer sweet.
Todd had asked Keller once who the Wraith would be without the war. When she’d repeated it to Ronon, she’d had no idea how close to home the statement had struck.
Who would he be without the war?
“Ronon?”
He flinched at Teyla’s voice, although the earpiece volume was no louder than usual. He scrubbed his hands over his face, cleared his throat, and activated the radio. “Yeah?”
“Will you be joining us for dinner?”
Ronon clenched his fists to stop his hands from shaking. “Not tonight. Got some stuff to finish.”
“Very well. I will see you in the morning.”
He sighed when the frequency clicked clear. He heard the worry and disappointment in her voice along with the promise that while she wouldn’t ask him directly, she’d talk around the problem during their mission until he spilled his guts.
Ronon suppressed the urge to go confess now and get it over with. He wasn’t ready to let go yet. He climbed to his feet and continued to run.
oOoOo
“He’s not coming?”
Teyla schooled her features then turned and smiled at John. “Not tonight. He says he has-”
“Stuff to do. Yeah, that’s what he told me three hours ago.” John stirred his chili, keeping his eyes downcast. He was quiet for a minute, his face twitching as it did when he became uncomfortable. “You have any idea what he’s grieving over?”
Shock washed over her, though she knew it really shouldn’t. John could be very perceptive at times, but she hadn’t realized anyone else had sensed Ronon’s pain yet. “He has not mentioned anything to me.”
“I keep thinking maybe his past is haunting him, but,” John gave a half-shrug, “Sateda was destroyed over a decade ago. Can’t be that, can it?”
“I am certain that when he is ready to tell us, he will.” Teyla smoothed the napkin on her lap and sliced into her pizza. “Ronon knows we will listen when he is ready to talk.”
John grunted in reply, his eyes focused on her knife as she cut another bite. “You know you’re supposed to eat pizza with your hands, right?”
“I know.” Teyla sliced in a hugely exaggerated motion and winked at him. “It is delicious either way.”
“You’ve spent too much time around McKay.”
Before Teyla could reply, two very young and very new Marines approached their table. With a nod, she rose to refill her water glass and to give John space to deal with them. She allowed her gaze to wander over the room, wilting a little inside when she realized she barely recognized half the faces. The influx of new personnel had increased as her time on Atlantis had decreased. Not that she regretted spending more time with her people - her Athosian people - but she had always made a point of getting to know every scientist and soldier, learning their skills and their interests, being a voice in team formation and mission assignments based on that knowledge. Elizabeth had valued her input and her ability to read people, as had Samantha. In the chaos that had coincided with Mr. Woolsey’s arrival, she had chosen to help her people rebuild their village on New Athos, and by the time she had returned to Atlantis and her team full time, Mr. Woolsey had established his advisors. And while he listened to her and occasionally took her advice, it wasn’t the same.
But if she were being completely honest with herself, she wasn’t that disappointed. She had a family now; Torren and Kanaan deserved her attention, and she gave every spare moment to them. John might jokingly suggest she spent too much time around Rodney, but she knew it was the opposite. She didn’t spend enough time with any of them anymore. Teyla knew Rodney’s relationship with Jennifer was blossoming - she could read it in their faces and body language - but she knew little else about what was going on in his life. John did his best to keep up with all of them; however, the new recruits from Earth were dominating his time. Between staff meetings, training exercises, skill evaluations, and missions, he barely had time to eat and sleep, which could explain why he had been more distracted than usual the past week.
Something had been torturing Ronon since they had landed on Earth. His distress had increased in the past few weeks, but his eyes had told her not to pry. Now that it had grown to the point that others were noticing, she would push him a little harder. Perhaps a sparring session would loosen his tongue, if he didn’t share with her during the mission the next day. They had not sparred in quite some time, and she could use the workout. The last time she had swung a bantos rod had been on New Athos with Halling as they practiced while they argued over the fate of their people. He was right, she knew he was, but she mourned the thought of combining their culture with others. Slowly their ways would merge with the ways of other societies, and the distinctiveness of Athosian culture would disappear. But the sad truth was they could no longer survive on their own - too much to do with too few to do it.
In the end, she had bowed her head in agreement and helped him pack the contents of his tent. She had held in the tears until she returned to Atlantis, and then she curled on her bed, clutching the blanket Charin had woven for her, and cried herself to sleep.
Kanaan was helping with the move to Tipul, once home to a vibrant people who had become victims of Michael’s experiments. Teyla had yet to mention it to her teammates, unwilling to add to their burdens. She had given the new gate address to Hannah, Mr. Woolsey’s assistant, so that they would know how to reach Kanaan in an emergency.
She was only now really beginning to understand the enormity of what Ronon had lost.
“Teyla?” John called, waving at her. “You gonna finish your dinner?”
She glanced around as she returned to her seat. “Have they already gone?”
John crushed a few crackers and stirred them into his chili. “Who?”
“The two Marines you were speaking with.”
“Oh, them. Yeah. They left a few minutes ago. You’ve been staring into space for a while.” John’s gaze darted to hers then back down at the table. “You okay?”
“I am…” Teyla hesitated, tasting the lie. “My people are having-”
John’s hand flew to his ear. “What is it, McKay? Of course, we’re at dinner. It’s dinnertime.” He made a rolling motion with his hand as he smiled apologetically at her. “Yes, we’ll be here for a few minutes.” His gaze lost focus. “What experiment?”
Teyla laughed to herself. Her heart had rejoiced at the friendship that had formed between two of the loneliest people she had ever met. At times they reminded her of her cousin’s twins - constantly bickering until the other needed something then pretending they hadn’t almost died trying to provide it. John trusted easily but never revealed much, while Rodney revealed everything and didn’t trust anyone. Over the years, John had learned to open up a tiny bit and Rodney had learned to trust. No one had been more shocked than Teyla when he believed her about the moon on Nesac, or M3W-712 as he called it. She had long hoped for the day when someone would believe her when she related a bit of Pegasus lore. She had expected it to be John. And though he would do anything for her, go anywhere based on her word, he would do it because he trusted her, not because he believed what she said. A subtle difference perhaps, but a difference nonetheless.
When she had told Rodney of the report from Nesac, she had braced herself for the scathing laughter and look of scorn she usually got when she talked about the peoples of Pegasus. When instead he’d leaned forward, eyes wide and sparkling with interest, she’d had to draw on all her skills to prevent herself from bursting into tears. Rodney had believed her, had trusted that she knew what she was talking about. Even now, she could barely wrap her mind around it.
“McKay’s almost here.” John waved at her cold pizza slice with his spoon. “Better eat that now if you want it.” He frowned. “What were we talking about?”
Teyla reached for her fork then changed her mind, and picked up her pizza with both hands. “You were going to tell me about your new personnel.”
oOoOo
“New personnel suck.” Rodney set his tray on the table and dropped into a chair. “Sam needs to stop telling the IOA how understaffed we are.”
“We are understaffed, McKay.”
“Only if we keep doing all the stuff the IOA wants, Sheppard.” Rodney eyed the remnants of Teyla’s pizza and glanced at the taco he had pinched between his thumb and forefinger. “Any idea what’s in this today?”
Teyla leaned over and sniffed. “Skirsk, I believe. The spices make it difficult to be certain.”
“Skirsk.” Rodney wrinkled his nose. “Do I like skirsk?”
“Yes,” Teyla replied. “You have it every time you visit New Athos.”
Rodney glanced up at the funny hitch in her voice. Sheppard apparently heard it, too, because he narrowed his eyes at Teyla and asked, “What’s wrong?”
Her eyes filled with tears, but before she could get her mouth open, the citywide comms blared to life.
“Colonel Sheppard, Doctor McKay, please report to the control room. Colonel Sheppard and Doctor McKay to the control room.”
“Oh, for God’s sake,” Sheppard growled. “Teyla…”
Teyla smiled and patted his hand. “Go. We will speak later.”
Rodney gazed mournfully at his untouched tray while his stomach rumbled.
“Here.” Teyla extended the pizza slice. “This is easier to eat on the run than a taco.”
“Thanks.” Rodney folded it in half and took a bite as he pushed away from the table and trotted after Sheppard. “What’s wrong with her?”
Sheppard heaved a sigh. “No idea. Somebody interrupts every time she starts to tell me.”
“She’s not pregnant again, is she?”
Sheppard stopped and glanced over his shoulder then shook his head and kept going. “No, she would’ve told me already. Besides, I don’t think she’d be upset about that.”
They rounded the corner, stepped in the transporter and stepped out on the command level.
“Oh.” Rodney’s step quickened as he caught sight of a group huddled around the long range sensors. “Well, maybe after her people get settled on their new world she’ll feel better.”
“What?” Sheppard screeched to a halt and stared at him. “What are you talking about?”
“Teyla’s people are moving. That new girl… Haley, Heather, Hilda…”
“McKay!”
“What’s-her-name was trying to update the emergency contact on Teyla’s file and couldn’t figure out how to change it since it was a gate address. I caught her banging on the keyboard and cursing like a sailor. Seriously, Sheppard, you should hear this girl. She’d make Lorne blush-”
Sheppard closed his eyes and breathed out in that loud counting-to-ten-before-I-kill-you exhale. “Rodney.”
“That’s all I know. She said Teyla asked her to change the gate address of her homeworld.”
“Did you look it up?”
“Yeah.” Revulsion rose in Rodney’s throat and he swallowed thickly. “Michael had one of his labs there. After we…exterminated what he’d left behind, the stragglers of a few dozen civilizations whose worlds or societies had been destroyed beyond repair set up camp. It’s basically Refugee Planet.”
“Why are the Athosians moving there?”
Rodney’s heart twisted in a way that was still new to him. “I don’t know for sure, but I can guess. You know how few of them Michael left. They aren’t viable as a people. If they stay on New Athos, they’ll die off in a generation or two.”
Sheppard’s head dropped forward, and he rubbed his eyes. “Damn it.”
Anger bubbled up in Rodney’s chest. “It’s a good thing she already threw him off the top of the tower because…because...”
The corner of Sheppard’s mouth quirked up. “Yeah, buddy, it sure is.” He sighed and turned his gaze toward Ops. “Let’s go see who needs us to save them this time.”
Rodney finished off the pizza as he followed Sheppard toward the control room. The buzzing voices quieted when they reached the console everyone was gathered around.
Zelenka looked up with a wide grin. “We have found something.”
“I would have never guessed,” Rodney replied. “Not with all these people standing around, not working.”
The techs and scientists scurried back to their stations, leaving room for Rodney and Sheppard to move behind Zelenka.
Rodney studied the display, his mind quickly translating the Ancient. “Are there any ships in the database that match these readings?”
“Ships?” Sheppard squinted at the display. “That’s a ship?”
“Not necessarily,” Zelenka answered. “Though I am reading a ZPM power signature from it. The…object is in a stationary orbit.”
“A space station?” Sheppard asked. “Over what planet?”
Rodney glanced down at the console. “That can’t be right.”
Zelenka’s grin widened. “It is.”
“What?” Sheppard demanded.
Rodney grabbed Zelenka’s chair and rolled him out of the way. “This says it’s in orbit over M3W-712.”
Sheppard’s brows shot up. “Your evil moon is actually a space station?”
“Yes.” Zelenka hovered behind Rodney, peeking over his shoulder. “I was running scans of the sector as you requested. While I was detailing the asteroid field between the second and third planets of the solar system, this moon just came to life.”
“Moons do not come to life,” Rodney snapped.
“Nor do they cause earthquakes and tornadoes every two hundred years,” Zelenka replied. “But this one does, according to you.”
“Well, being a space station could explain that.” Rodney wheeled the chair into place and sat down, staring at the screen and letting the thoughts in his head roam freely. “If someone is manning that station, they could be causing the weather phenomena.”
Sheppard leaned against the console, arms folded. “Really? And what exactly does one use to cause an earthquake?”
“Gee, Sheppard, I don’t know. I haven’t tried that lately. Though I did manage to use something the Ancients left to destroy five-sixths of a solar system once.” Rodney rolled his eyes. “And then there was that time an Ancient device gave me superpowers. And how about-”
“Point taken, McKay.” Sheppard rubbed at the furrow between his brows that seemed to grow deeper by the day. “So, I guess we’re saying that having a ZPM makes it an Ancient facility.”
“Unless you know someone else in this galaxy that uses ZPMs.”
“Gee, McKay, I seem to remember Todd borrowing a few.”
Rodney grimaced. He’d forgotten about that. “Okay, so probably Ancient, but maybe Wraith. Great.” He leaned back and looked at Sheppard. “What do you want to do?”
“Check it out.” Sheppard’s quick grin faded. “Cautiously. We haven’t had great success intervening in Ancient experiments and even worse success with Wraith ones. See what else you can find out. We’re wheels up at 0900.” He patted Zelenka’s shoulder. “Good job, Radek.”
“Wheels up,” Rodney muttered as Sheppard walked away. “Like a jumper has wheels.”
Suddenly the gate lit up and spun. Once the event horizon stabilized, the shield coalesced.
“Unscheduled activation,” Chuck reported. “No IDC yet.”
Zelenka pulled another chair close, his fingers dancing over the console. “Uh oh.”
“Uh oh? What the hell does ‘uh oh’ mean?”
“We are receiving a transmission. The…” Zelenka waved his hand wildly. “The station is communicating directly with Atlantis!”
“What?” Rodney turned to a nearby laptop and scanned the frequencies. “Oh, no no no! Shut down the gate.”
Chuck keyed in the command once then a second and a third time. “Gate will not disengage.”
“Damn it!” Rodney typed furiously, letting his mind direct his fingers without help from his eyes. “We have to stop it now!”
Sweat dripped off Zelenka’s nose. “I am trying!”
“Block, block, block, come on, damn it!” Rodney keyed in every jamming code he knew and invented a couple for good measure. “Well?”
“Still transmitting.” Zelenka mumbled something in Czech that had to be particularly vile based on the tone. “Wait… There!” He sagged back in his chair and pulled off his glasses as the gate shut down. “I have turned off the protocol to accept all Ancient transmissions.”
“That was in Ancient?” Rodney called up the source code of the transmission, leaning forward and unconsciously drumming his fingers on the console. “Are you sure?”
“Atlantis recognized it as Ancient although it is unlike any code I have seen before.”
Rodney twisted to face Chuck. “Figure out why you couldn’t shut the gate down. You,” he waved at Amelia, “make sure that transmission didn’t contain anything that’s going to bite us in the ass later, especially some kind of Wraith virus.” He turned back and began a diagnostic of the primary and secondary systems then searched the database for a form of code that matched what the facility had sent. “I don’t suppose Atlantis provided the translation.”
Zelenka snorted. “No. I will start the decryption process, but I believe it will take many hours to complete.” He sighed. “If we can decrypt it at all.”
“We have to. I have a mission there tomorrow.” Rodney snapped his fingers at the comms tech. “Get Chapman and… and… What’s-his-name - the new cryptologist Jackson insisted we needed - up here now. We’ve got work to do.”
The tech nodded and began the calls. The rest of the gate techs and scientists were running diagnostics on their equipment or staring at the code. Silence descended in the control room, interrupted only by the hum of laptops and the occasional muttered curse. Rodney ignored his growling stomach as he continued his search of the database. He glanced at his watch and sighed.
The email from Jeannie had waited two days already. It could wait for one more.
oOoOo
John fought the urge to get up and pace, checking has watch for the sixth time. Teyla sat behind to him, her fingers weaving intricate circles that were either for extreme knitting or a new bantos exercise while Ronon stood by the bulkhead doors and practiced the various cool ways he could draw and spin his blaster.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” McKay stumbled in the back of the jumper, vest and holster in one hand, tablet in the other. “I…I’m sorry.”
John narrowed his eyes and opened his mouth for the verbal slap-down he’d been planning for half an hour until he got a good look at McKay - eyes bloodshot and red-rimmed, face drawn and gray. Gray. “Damn, Rodney, did you sleep at all?”
“A little.” McKay tossed his equipment in the co-pilot chair and strapped on the holster with shaking hands. He tried to pull on his vest and caught his elbow in the arm hole. “Shit!”
Teyla moved to his side. “Here, let me help.”
She untangled him from the vest and held it so he could slide his arms in. Then Rodney slumped in his seat and let her zip it up. Every alarm bell in John’s head clanged in warning at how still McKay sat.
“What’s wrong?” John asked.
“Huh?” McKay looked at him blankly. “Are you talking to me?”
“Yes, Rodney, I’m talking to you. We’re not leaving until you tell me the bad news.”
McKay paled. “How did you… What bad news?”
If McKay hadn’t looked like he’d crumple in a million pieces, John would’ve smacked the back of his head. “Whatever is making you look like somebody kicked your dog. What the hell did that code say?”
McKay blinked in confusion then his eyes went wide. “Oh. It’s a summary of the atmospheric and weather patterns of the planet for the last two hundred years. Once we knew what to look for, we found other reports going back several thousand years. I’ve got a team of people combing through the data, but I don’t anticipate finding anything of concern.”
“Then what…” He trailed off as McKay’s jaw tightened and his gaze dropped. John winced internally - must be something personal. “You good to go on this mission?”
“Yeah.”
No scathing retort. No sarcastic tone. Must be worse than he thought. John’s grip tightened on the controls as he lifted off and felt the autopilot kick in to lower them into the gate room. First Ronon then Teyla and now McKay. His team was in pain, and he was powerless to help. He knew how to fight Wraith and Replicators and every nasty thing Pegasus had thrown at them, but damned if he knew how to fight…whatever was hurting them.
How could he not know what was wrong with his team?
Maybe he should take O’Neill up on that offer.
The gate rotated into view, and they shot through the wormhole and out to a cloudy sunset and winds that gusted hard enough to make John’s teeth rattle. The Nesac gate was on a cliff that overlooked a deep valley split by a river. The village had been built into the side of the mountain to the right of the water, and the left had been made into a terraced farm. John hugged the cliff as he angled toward the village, searching for a spot to land.
Teyla leaned forward to peer out at the black clouds spilling over the mountains to the left. “The storms are beginning?”
“Looks like it.” McKay poked at his tablet and glanced at the HUD. “The barometric pressure is going wild everywhere. It’s like a storm is brewing over the whole planet.”
“Stay here or head to the space station?” John asked.
McKay grimaced as he switched HUD readouts. “I was hoping to take some readings here first. If that station is responsible for these weather conditions, it has to be communicating with something on the planet. I may not be able to detect it if we take it offline from the station.”
Ronon hunched forward. “What difference does it make?”
“While I’m not saying the Ancients couldn’t have set up an experiment like this just to get their jollies, I think it’s more likely they were testing it as a weapon.” McKay turned to face Ronon. “We know the Wraith hibernate for centuries on planets.”
“But the Wraith were not hibernating while the Ancestors were here,” Teyla said. “They were at war.”
“You said this weather pattern didn’t start until after they’d left Pegasus.” McKay frowned at his tablet and began to type. “It’s all conjecture until we figure out what’s going on, but I don’t want to miss something important because I was in a hurry.” His face flushed. “I’ve done that too many times already.”
Veins of lightning exploded across the sky. John circled behind the village and set down between two buildings with inches to spare. “Maybe we should wait here for a little while,” he said as he powered down non-essential systems and turned on the shield. “I’m guessing the jumper is a little safer than one of those huts.”
“Actually, the Nesacians are known for their superior construction,” Teyla offered. “Many worlds seek their knowledge in preparation of rebuilding after a culling or other disaster.”
“Guess they’d have to be good at it with storms like this.” Ronon leaned forward, the flashes of lightning casting odd shadows on his face. “Must be tough.”
Teyla’s gaze grew distant. “I spent many days playing here as a child. Athos and Nesac had a strong trading alliance, and my father came often to keep the relationship healthy. These people are kind and fond of laughter.” She smiled softly. “If things were tough, as you say, they certainly never let it show.”
Lightning split the sky and thunder crashed immediately afterward. Driving rain sluiced down the shield and swirled then turned sideways. Hail bounced. The wind screamed.
John kept his eyes on the sky which had turned a sickly shade of green. “You think a tornado can pick up a shielded jumper?”
McKay gave a tight nod.
“Why?” Ronon asked.
“We have one on each side of the river.” McKay held up his tablet with the predicted path which led straight for them. “They’ll merge over the water. Let’s hope the stargate is anchored to the bedrock of the cliff.”
John watched the lightning blanket the sky. “I’m not sure I can fly through that. Do you have any idea what multiple lightning strikes will do to the jumper?”
“Nothing good,” McKay replied.
The small ship vibrated slightly then rocked side to side.
John called up the HUD to search for the rotation. A few hundred yards to his left. “Didn’t realize tornadoes felt so much like earthquakes.”
The nose of the jumper rose and dipped as the ground rolled beneath them.
“They don’t.” McKay changed the display. “That is an earthquake.”
“We should get out of here,” Ronon said.
McKay turned to stare at him. “And go where? We’ve got a tornado almost on top of us.”
The home in front of them swayed but didn’t collapse. The air was filled with debris - a cart, planks ripped from a building, farming implements, toys, the broken carcass of a goat-like animal. John flinched as a tree tried to spear them, only to deflect off the shield.
“Oh, great. More trouble,” McKay muttered. “I knew today was going to be bad.”
John held tightly to the chair’s arms as the jumper jarred violently. “What now?”
“We’re losing the shields.”
“You have got to be kidding. Why?”
“Well, it seems to be raining boulders at the moment.” McKay swept an arm toward the viewscreen as something large crashed into the home on their right. “That one just bounced off the shield.”
“We must do something,” Teyla urged.
“Like what?” McKay twisted in his seat to face her. “This is like flying through an asteroid field. The shields can only take so much abuse before they fail, and right now they are holding off the lightning, the hail, and all the trash the tornado is throwing at us. We can’t fly in this and we sure as hell can’t get out in it.”
Teyla stared at the damage the boulder had done to the home. “These people-”
“Have dealt with this for generations.” McKay sighed heavily. “I’m not unsympathetic, but we can’t help them right now.”
“Rodney’s right,” John interjected. “I’ve got a city full of new soldiers. We’ll bring back a platoon and help these people however we can. But we can’t stop this from happening.” He glanced at McKay. “How much longer is this storm going to last?”
“I cannot possibly know that.”
John gestured toward the viewscreen. “I’ve been through a few earthquakes in my time. It doesn’t matter how structurally sound these buildings are; if a fault opens up beneath them, they’ll be destroyed. If this is not natural, we need to find a way to stop it before their entire civilization is flattened.”
McKay looked back at Teyla. “How long do the effects of the evil moon typically last?”
“According to legend, a week,” she answered.
“You’re right. They aren’t going to survive if this keeps up.” McKay brought up the schematics on his computer. “Okay, I’ve boosted the shields with everything we’ve got short of engine power. If we’re going to the space station, do it now.”
John powered up and lifted off, wincing as the surrounding buildings wobbled. He hadn’t realized the shield was holding the structures upright. The home on the right flattened while the wall of the home on the left collapsed inward. He ignored Teyla’s gasp and Ronon’s muttered curse and pointed the nose of the jumper straight up, climbing toward the heavens and the roiling storm clouds at a ninety degree angle.
“Tornado is shifting,” McKay reported. “Heading right for us.”
John gritted his teeth and clutched the controls in a death grip, fighting the winds buffeting the small craft.
“Hurry!”
“I am hurrying, Rodney,” John growled, sweat dripping in his eyes and down his back. “Engines are sluggish.”
“That’s because the shield is sucking up all the power.”
Lightning slammed into the shield directly on top of the viewscreen. Blinded, John clenched his eyes shut and thought, Up! The jumper lurched, stalled then shot upward like a rocket.
“My eyes!” McKay shouted. “I can’t see!”
“Nor can I,” Teyla replied, a faint tremor belying her calm tone.
“Nobody can, McKay.” John called up the HUD in his mind, tracing their path. “Remind me the next time I’m bitching about the Ancients that I need to be grateful some things have a mental component. We should almost be clear of the planet.”
“We are,” Ronon said. “I, uh, wasn’t looking when the lightning hit.”
John opened his eyes. Nothing but pure white. No time to panic. “Have we cleared the atmosphere?”
Cloth rustled and an elbow bumped his arm. “Yeah,” Ronon said.
“Can you see the space station?”
“Not yet. Can you straighten out some?”
“I’ll try.” John concentrated on the controls. “How’s that?”
Ronon grunted. “Still don’t see it.”
John thought the HUD on and searched for a ZPM signature. “Do you see it on the HUD?”
“What would it look like?”
“Big blue dot,” McKay said. “Probably pulsing.”
“Got it.” More jostling. “Go, um, left.”
John banked left and when the engines hesitated, he shut down the shield. “How’s this?”
“Little more left,” Ronon said.
“Hey, I think my sight’s returning,” McKay announced. “I can see some dark around the edges… Unless I’m going completely blind which would really suck because-”
“Rodney,” John snapped. “Have your breakdown later. If you can see, help me find the station so we can save those people down there.”
“Oh, right.” McKay paused for a second. “Sorry. Still only shadows.”
“I can recovered somewhat,” Teyla said. “Head toward your eleven o’clock.”
John made the adjustment and the presence at his side vanished.
“How’d you know that?” Ronon asked.
John could actually hear the arch in Teyla’s brow. “I have lived in Atlantis for five years. Many people have clocks with wands.”
“Hands.” John tried to hide a smile. “Clocks have hands.”
“And faces,” McKay added.
“Whatever,” Ronon mumbled. “You’re going the right way now.”
John opened his eyes slowly and blinked a few times. McKay had been right - shadows. Spots of black on brilliant white. Please, God, let it clear up. “How much farther?”
“Not far,” Teyla answered. “Perhaps five minutes.”
John blew out a breath and forced his cramping hands to release the controls. Until his or Rodney’s sight returned, they couldn’t do much. “Don’t let me fly into the station.”
Teyla squeezed his arm. “Do not worry. We will not let that happen.”
“I just hope the Wraith don’t show up,” McKay mumbled.
“Way to think positive, McKay.” John kneaded his palms with his thumbs to get the circulation going, and to keep his hands away from his eyes.
“I can’t help it. I always assume the worst so I’m not disappointed later on.” Something thumped to the floor. “Aw, damn it. Can someone hand me the laptop?”
“I will get it,” Teyla said. “Is that a new picture of Jeannie and Madison?”
“Yeah.” Rodney’s voice sounded strange, like he was choking.
Teyla must have noticed, too. “Has something happened, Rodney?”
“What? Oh, um, no. I mean…” McKay sighed heavily. “Jeannie’s sick.”
“What illness does she have?” Teyla asked.
“Cancer,” Rodney whispered. He paused, his shaky breaths echoing in the silence. “They caught it early and it’s operable. The doctors think she’ll be fine.”
John twisted toward him. “But…”
“But what the hell do they know!” McKay exploded. “I’m surrounded by the most advanced technology in two galaxies and she has to have some quack cut her open to heal her. My sister is a freaking health nut! How does this happen? What if I…”
“What if you what?” John asked.
“What if I shut down the nanites too soon? They could have-”
“She’d be dead,” Ronon said. “You said so.”
“But if I had-”
“Ronon’s right, Rodney. You know those nanites would have killed her for sure. You saved her life. Besides, lots of people survive cancer, and Jeannie’s as tough as they come.” John blinked at the smear of color that was McKay. “She’d have to be, growing up with you.”
McKay’s splutter held equal parts laughter and indignation.
“Did she not say that she had to protect you on your walk home from school?” Teyla teased.
“Lies, all of it. I was in high school when she started Grade One.”
Ronon snorted. “So?”
Teyla slapped Ronon’s leg then leaned forward to pat Rodney’s shoulder. “If her doctors are as gifted as the ones on Atlantis, she will be fine.”
McKay nodded. “I emailed Sam before we left. I’m hoping someone at the SGC will take a look at her.”
When the HUD beeped a warning, John squinted at the gray blob in front of them. “The death star, I presume.”
McKay groaned. “You just couldn’t resist, could you?”
“Nope.” John blinked rapidly, hoping to bring the controls into focus. “How much can you see?”
“Shapes and colors,” McKay said. “I’ve still got starbursts in my vision.”
“Me too. Damn it.”
“Perhaps we can assist.” Teyla moved behind John. “I can put my hands over yours and guide the ship toward the dock.”
“Can you see it?” John asked.
“Call the HUD up,” Ronon said. “What am I looking for?”
McKay’s hand flopped around on the console. “Okay, that should activate the scans of the facility. Can you read Ancient?”
“A little. Learned most of the danger words after Sheppard got sucked into that time dilation field.”
“Huh. Well, usually the docking ports show up as small flashing orange dots but so do exhaust ports. If we get too close to one, you’ll see a warning appear on the HUD.”
“Think there’s a dock over there. See it?”
“Yes,” Teyla replied as she placed her hands on John’s. “We need to go up and to the right.”
John looked that way but saw only shades of gray. “Here goes nothing.” He kept his hands on the controls but allowed Teyla to guide them. The jumper lurched slightly. “Sorry.” He exhaled slowly and let his mind go blank, trusting Teyla.
After a minute, her grip tightened. “We are close.”
“No warnings on the HUD,” Ronon reported.
“The docking port is on the ceiling,” John reminded Teyla. “You need to maneuver under the docking clamp and ease upward.”
Her hair brushed his neck as she nodded.
“When she gets into place, you need to make sure the docking clamp is sealed or we’ll die when we open the hatch,” McKay said. “There’s a lever on the other side of the bulkhead doors that lowers the exit ladder. The controls for the hatch are under a panel next to it.”
“Got it.”
Metal scraped metal.
“I am sorry.” Teyla’s palms were clammy. “I am not sure what to do now.”
“Watch the HUD,” John said, mentally calling up the alignment display. “The two lines with a circle on top is us. Get the circle inside the orange dot.”
A few seconds later, the jumper bumped into something solid and stopped moving.
“What now?” Teyla asked.
“The HUD will tell you when the docking clamps have engaged.” McKay turned toward the rear. “When the lights turn purple, the seal is good. If the green button is lit, that means there is an unpressurized access tube.”
The jumper vibrated when something clanged against the roof.
“Got all purple,” Ronon reported. “The green button is dark.”
“Let’s go.” John ran his hands over his vest, checking the contents, while Teyla closed McKay’s laptop and set it aside then moved toward the back.
“I hope that seal is solid,” McKay muttered.
John looked to where he assumed Ronon and Teyla were then glanced over his shoulder at McKay’s blurry form. “It’s solid.” He clipped the P-90 Teyla handed him to his vest. “How’s your eyesight?”
“Getting better, I think, though I don’t remember your hair being flat like that.”
“What?” John brushed his hands over his hair.
McKay grinned. “You are so gullible sometimes.”
“You’ll pay for that later.”
“Oh, I’m so scared.”
“You done yet?” Ronon called from above them.
John moved to let McKay start climbing. “Coming, Mother.”
“Don’t make me kill you, Sheppard.”
“If you are done, there are people who need our help.” Teyla sounded disgusted. “Today.”
John fumbled around until he found the ladder. “On my way.”
When he reached the top, Ronon pulled him through and led him through a dimly lit room of smooth gray metal with familiar crystal sensors.
“Only exit,” Ronon said.
“Life signs?”
“Um…” McKay pulled the life signs detector from his vest and squinted at it, pulling it close then holding it at arm’s length. “Well, shit. I don’t know.”
Teyla peered over his shoulder. “There are none in the vicinity.”
“Well, come on, then,” John said. “Teyla, take point. Ronon, you cover our six.”
Teyla nodded and moved in front of him. She swiped at the sensors then pulled her P-90 to ready when the doors opened. She stepped through with McKay on her heels. John followed closely behind. A blinding light flashed.
Then nothing.
To Part 2