When I Sorrow Most - part 4
'When I Sorrow Most' part 1 is here.
'When I Sorrow Most' part 2 is here.
'When I Sorrow Most' part 3 is here.
When I Sorrow Most
Part Four
Three Months Ago
John felt the heat hit him like a wall as he soon as they stepped out of the Quoron’s pavilion and back into the hot Cataran afternoon. As had been decided, Quoron and Karania were to take Ronon and Teyla on a tour of the market whilst Rodney and John would go with Konar to see the research facility. Rodney was practically buzzing with scientific excitement, too caught up in questioning Konar about the details of their experiments with Wraith technology to even complain about the temperature.
“So you’ve been able to de-code the Wraith’s programming?” John heard him ask.
“Yes,” came Konar’s reply. “We have a team of programmers who work exclusively…”
John tuned out the remainder of the discussion as he turned to speak to Teyla and Ronon. “Keep in touch,” he said to them in an undertone. “Alternating hourly check-ins starting with you two, okay?”
“Yes, John,” Teyla replied as Ronon grunted his assent. “Although I do not believe we have anything to worry about,” she continued.
“Doesn’t look like it so far,” John agreed, letting his gaze flick back to Rodney and Konar, still both deep in discussion. “Let’s hope it stays that way.”
Just then, a large motorized vehicle pulled up in front of the pavilion. A smartly dressed driver stepped out from the front compartment and moved to the rear of the vehicle to pull open a door.
“Colonel, Dr McKay, if you would be so good as to step inside,” Konar said, gesturing towards the vehicle’s interior, “then we can be on our way to the facility.”
“Bit like a limo,” Rodney commented to John as he took his seat inside the spacious vehicle. As John settled himself opposite Rodney, he had to admit that he could see what he meant. Despite the back entrance, the inside of the vehicle’s size and facing rows of seats running its length, was reminiscent of a limousine.
“It will be about a twenty minute journey to our research centre,” Konar said as he sat down next to Rodney and gestured for the driver to go. The vehicle glided smoothly into action, its engine purring in a remarkably similar fashion to that of a car. “As Balar no doubt told you, our economy is mostly based on agriculture and food production, and it is in those industries that most of our population works,” Konar explained. “However, the presence of the Wraith has necessitated us to allocate a substantial proportion of our resources to the research and development of weapons with which to fight them.”
“You also appear to have an advanced energy production facilities,” Rodney commented as they left the main square behind them. John noted that they were heading out to the edges of the city, but moving in the opposite direction of the stargate.
“Yes,” Konar agreed. “The southern region of Cata, our most populated continent and where we are at present, has rich supplies of paraf - a hydrocarbon liquid which, once properly refined, produces great quantities of energy when burned.”
“Ah, yes,” Rodney said. “It sounds like petroleum,” he explained to John.
“You are familiar with it?” Konar asked.
“Very,” Rodney replied. “Most of our home planet is powered in exactly the same way.”
“And here?” Konar asked again. “For your… What did you call it? Your expedition. For this, you use an alternative source?”
Rodney shot John a questioning look to which John responded with a small nod, indicating that Rodney could answer Konar’s question. After all, the man was being open enough to take them on a tour of their research facilities. John figured that such openness demanded at least some small show of faith from them in return.
“We use a variety of different power sources for the expedition,” Rodney explained, turning back to face Konar as he spoke. “Most of our energy comes for our base from a power generator called a Zero Point Module. It’s an incredibly powerful device which is able to extract vacuum energy. However, in addition to that, we also have a number of generators which use a mineral called naquadah. It’s what the stargates are made from and one of its unique properties is that it can amplify energy.”
As they continued to discuss energy production, John watched Konar, looking closely to see if he would be tempted to use any of this information against them. To John’s relief, Konar appeared be no more than genuinely interested in the exchange of knowledge.
“How fascinating,” Konar was saying. “Of course, I know very little about such things myself. I will have to introduce you to Fader Trin as he has a particular interest in energy production and will no doubt be able to appreciate your insight far better than I, Dr McKay.”
“Trin is one of your scientists?” John asked, all too well aware of what happened when potential allies decided that they ‘appreciated’ Rodney.
“He is a scientist, yes. A talented one at that, but he is not directly employed by the government,” Konar replied. “His family own most of the power plants and the mining facilities on Cata, so, as you can imagine, there is no need for him to work.”
“Influential, then,” John commented.
“Very, Colonel,” Konar replied with a wry smile. “But, his family connections aside, he is a brilliant scientist and a very astute man - I am fortunate to have him consent to work with my research team.” Konar sat forward then, looking past John and out the front of the vehicle’s windshield. “Ah, we have almost arrived.”
John turned his head to look outside, noting that they were just pulling up to the rather austere set of gates, which were guarded by men wearing the same type of uniform as their driver. The gates were swung open as soon as the guards recognized the vehicle’s occupants and they were then driving up a narrow road towards a huge concrete building. The shape of the building, with its array of cooling towers, looked familiar.
“It’s the power station we saw from across the city,” Rodney said as he too looked up at the large construction.
“This is the Cataran Ministry’s prime Research and Development site,” Konar said. “And, yes, the site is also used by the Trin power corporation.” The vehicle came to a stop outside the imposing doors of the building and the driver once again came around to let them out.
“After you, gentlemen,” Konar said graciously.
The next hour was spent touring what John suspected was only the public-facing end of the R&D facility. Konar, despite his reserved exterior, had turned out to be a genial host once he’d become convinced that both John and Rodney very obviously knew what they were talking about when it came to fighting the Wraith. John left most of the talking to Rodney, content to merely stand back and observe. After all, it gave him a better opportunity to watch out for Rodney as well as simply to watch him.
Rodney was very much in his professional researcher-mode, questioning Konar closely about everything they were being shown and practically interrogating each scientist to whom they were introduced. In the first part of the tour, Konar showed them through the facility’s numerous laboratories, all of which housed countless scientists completely engrossed in their separate projects. Konar explained that each set of labs specialized in a particular project - so there were cross-disciplinary teams working on a wide range of research and defence protocols. From the few things John could pick out and understand, he was certain he spotted weaponry, aircraft, satellites and computer systems all at different stages of design and development.
Rodney seemed to be just as much at home in these labs as he was in his own back on Atlantis. Despite the fact that the Catarans used a totally different type of notation, John had to get a firm grip on Rodney’s arm on a number of occasions to prevent him from plucking a pen out of a nearby scientist’s hand and correcting their calculations.
“You never let me have any fun,” Rodney complained under his breath after one particularly close call, glowering down at where John had a hand wrapped tightly around his elbow.
In response, John cocked an eyebrow at Rodney and then proceeded to turn his grip into a caress, slowly stroking his fingers down the bare inside of Rodney’s arm all the way to his wrist and delighting in the blush that slowly started to stain Rodney’s cheeks.
“Yes, yes, alright,” Rodney said, blinking rapidly as if to clear his mind and shaking off John’s hand. “I’ll behave… just stop with the…” he trailed off and flapped a hand at John. “You know.”
“Good,” John replied, leaning into Rodney to whisper his final words directly into Rodney’s ear. “We can have plenty of fun and ‘you know’ when we get back home.” He pulled back quickly, watching Rodney shiver in reaction, and proceeded to follow Konar into the next room.
From the labs, they moved outside and across the compound to a large structure that reminded John of an aircraft hanger.
“The practical part, I presume,” Rodney commented to Konar as they approached it.
“Exactly,” Konar replied. “Of course, our most advanced prototypes are located at the nearby military base for testing, but our research vessels are here.”
“Research vessels?” John asked.
Konar looked over at him, an amused look on his face. “Oh yes, Colonel,” he replied. “This is where we keep the darts.”
Rodney stumbled at Konar’s casually spoken words. He would have, in fact, fallen had John not reacted almost instantaneously, spinning around and reaching out his arms to catch hold of Rodney before he fell.
“Darts?! You have actual Wraith darts here?” Rodney babbled, using John’s chest for leverage as he pushed himself upright.
“Yes, Dr McKay,” Konar said. “We have two darts which crashed near the city during the last culling. Of course, I suspect they are rather out-dated by now, but they nevertheless have taught us much about Wraith technology.”
Rodney was still spluttering at John’s side, as if the words from his no doubt numerous questions were getting impossibly tangled on his tongue in their eagerness to be voiced.
“You have been able to reverse engineer them?” John took the opportunity to ask, knowing that he was probably looking just as eager as Rodney was by the prospect.
“To a certain extent,” Konar replied slowly, as if unwilling to admit to more. “But you should probably talk to one of the scientists on the project for the exact details.”
They had, by this point, arrived at the hanger doors. Stepping forward, Konar punched a series of numbers into a keypad to the right-hand side of the entrance way, and the heavy metal slowly swung open with a groan. Peering inside, John noted that the interior of the hanger was large and brightly lit by rows of florescent lights hanging from the high ceiling. It was also a hive of activity and a surprisingly large number of people were milling about, all dressed in overalls and most of them carrying toolkits of some description. However, what really caught John’s attention was the obvious focus of their work - the five Wraith darts.
“Oh, wow,” Rodney breathed as he slowly stepped into the hanger, moving towards the nearest dart as if mesmerized. John found himself doing the very same thing, captivated by at last being in such close proximity to an object which represented all that had come to be the bane of his existence for the past year and a half. For a moment, all either of them could do was stand there and look at the darts in awe.
“This is amazing,” Rodney said at last in a low tone. “I mean, just think about the possibilities. Even if they are no longer exactly the models the Wraith are using today, what we could learn from them; how they’re manufactured, the materials, engine schematics, computer coding, weapons… just, well, everything.”
John nodded in agreement, feeling his excitement build. They’d been looking for an opportunity to get their hands on some Wraith technology since practically their first encounter. Of course, over the years, they had been able to glean bits of information here and there - from Rodney’s team searches of the Ancient database, Ronon and Teyla’s first-hand knowledge, and from their own encounters - but there was still so much they didn’t know or understand.
“How long have you had them? What have you learned so far? Have you been able to decipher their programming? Replicate any of their systems? Understand the biological base which underpins their technology?” Rodney was bouncing on his toes in his excitement as quick-fired his questions at an amused looking Konar.
Konar held up a placating hand in Rodney’s direction. “Like I said, Dr McKay, I am hardly an expert. Let me see if I can find… Ah, Fader, exactly the man I was hoping to see. Colonel Sheppard, Dr McKay, may I introduce Dr Fader Trim, our foremost expert in Wraith technology.”
****
Fader Trim, John decided as he made his way back to the group having made his latest scheduled check-in with Ronon and Teyla, was someone on whom it was probably worth keeping an eye. He was a fairly average looking man, in his early forties with a thick shock of black hair which was showing the first signs of starting to grey, who certainly posed no threat with his physical presence. However, there was something in the keen intelligence that shone from his eyes that disconcerted John. Not that intelligence was usually something that disturbed him. In fact, nothing usually could be further from the truth: case in point, one Rodney McKay, arguably the smartest man in two galaxies, to whom John was more than just a little attached. But Trin’s intelligence was something different than Rodney’s, John thought as he looked from one man to the other. Rodney’s genius was sharp and bright - much like the man himself - piercing, arrogant, and almost always right. Rodney sought the truth of things relentlessly and without much thought to the consequences. True, he might talk of Nobels and glory, but when he was stuck in to a problem, he was totally committed to its solution for its own sake. After all, John knew all too well that Rodney was more than likely to remain in a life-threatening situation in an effort to prove that his science was true, even when all other evidence pointed to the contrary.
Trin, on the other hand, seemed to John to be much more mercenary in his intelligence. Konar had left them in Trin’s care whilst he attended to some business elsewhere in the facility. As Trin had showed them around the hanger, talking in only the vaguest terms about what the Catarans had learned from studying the darts, John couldn’t escape the impression that he was somehow testing them, viewing them as potential competition. John had observed enough of his father’s often cut-throat business dealings to recognize the signs and to be wary of them. Unsurprisingly, Rodney was largely oblivious to Trin’s subtle probings. Although it was true that he was now far more cautious in his dealings with other scientists since his run-in with Koyla, there were still times when his scientific curiosity, not to mention his professional pride, got the better of him. As John smoothly insinuated himself back into Trin and Rodney’s discussion, he knew without doubt that his was certainly one of those times.
“It’s a completely different basis for technology entirely,” Rodney was saying, hands waving excitedly as he expounded upon his point. “It’s fascinating when you think about it, rather like biological evolution - here we have real evidence of the two different methods of attaining technological advancement being pitted against one another in a literal fight for survival. You’ve got the Wraith, on the one hand, developing a largely biological base, and the Ancients, on the other, going down the hard-core hardware route, albeit with a nod to biology in the genetic component necessary for the activation of their technology.”
“Ah, but the Wraith have also developed a complex, as you call it, hardware basis,” Trin replied, gesturing towards the darts engine core which looked to John to be a tangled mess of engine parts connected by something that looked disturbingly like veins.
“I have to admit,” Trin continued, “that my knowledge of the technology of the Ancestors - the Ancients - is not great, but a comparison of how each type performs in practice would be most illuminating.” He regarded Rodney thoughtfully, “You say the Ancients technology has a genetic component, this is something of which I was not aware.”
Rodney was nodding. “Yes, not for all of it of course - the stargate for a start requires no more than the knowledge of another gate’s address and use of the dialling device, but some of the more complex or experimental pieces do require a particular genetic marker to be present in the user for them to become active.”
At this point, John thought it was about time for him to step in - the last thing he needed was for what was looking like a successful mission to go all to hell because, yet again, someone thought it would be a good idea to kidnap his scientist and use him for their own nefarious purposes. “I’m not surprised you don’t know much about Ancient tech,” he said to Trin, hoping to distract him from Rodney, at whom he’d been looking with ever growing interest. “Apart from the gate, we haven’t noticed any indication of their presence here.”
Trin turned at John’s words, interest still lighting his dark eyes. “This is something you look for, Colonel?” he asked. “Ancient technology.”
“To a certain extent,” John replied warily, a trickle of unease running down his spine at the wording of Trin’s enquiry. “In addition to our own technology, we do use a lot of what was left by the Ancients. We’re always interested in learning more.”
The interest in Trin’s eyes grew deeper for a moment as his gaze darted between John and Rodney, before lessening again. “As are we, Colonel,” Trin said mildly. “After all, with knowledge comes the ability to defend ourselves; that is what my life’s work has all been about. I do hope that an agreement can be reached between our people because I am sure there is much we can learn from each other.”
“Yes,” John agreed cautiously, still trying to work out quite what it was about Trin that seemed to rub him the wrong way. Just then Konar re-appeared, crossing the hanger with his long stride.
“Well, gentlemen,” Konar said as he joined them. “I hope you have enjoyed your time with Fader. Perhaps we should now return to the city and rendezvous with Balar and your colleagues?”
John was about to reply that the suggestion was a good one when Rodney beat him to it.
“No,” he said, his eyes locked on his scanner. “Uh - I mean, could we have a little extra time here?” he clarified, digging around in his rucksack and finally producing his scanner.
“Rodney?” John asked warningly.
“I don’t need long,” Rodney said, looking over at John with eyes wide in entreaty before focusing his attention back to his scanner. “It’s just that we are a good distance from the stargate here and that hill over there,” he waved a hand towards the hill at the east of the facility, “looks like a perfect place to site the second electrode.”
Oh, right, of course, John thought with a smile. How could he possibly have forgotten Rodney’s bastardised MALP?
“Electrode?” Trin queried, his interest obviously piqued.
“Oh, merely a simplistic antennae,” Rodney explained. “I wanted to get some readings of the pulsar in your system - the… uh… speaking star, I believe you call it.”
“Ah, yes,” Trin said, nodding. “It emits intermittent EM radiation that, when directed towards our planet, interferes with our technology.”
“Exactly,” Rodney replied. “It’s an interesting astronomical phenomenon and one our scientists have not had the opportunity to study at such close range.” It suddenly seemed to occur to Rodney that perhaps the Catarans might object to his measurements, so he beckoned Trin closer, showing him the MALP’s design on his scanner and explaining the data it was designed to collect.
John looked over at Konar. “Would you mind?” he asked in an undertone. “We’ll just head up there,” he thumbed in the direction of the hill to which Rodney had haphazardly waved. “Rodney can do his thing and we’ll be back down here before you know it.”
“Of course, Colonel,” Konar replied. “I do not mind at all.” He cast an amused glance at Rodney and Trin, who were both in animated discussions, before cocking an eyebrow at John. “I understand the… ah… delicacies involved in working with people such as your Dr McKay.” He swept his hand out to encompass the totality of the complex and the no-doubt thousands of researchers who worked within it. “It certainly makes a change from my time as a solely military commander.”
John grinned back at Konar, his last remaining reservations about the man melting away. “Yeah, well, I hear ya,” he replied. “It all sounds very familiar.” Turning back towards his Dr McKay, John reached out and got a firm grip on Rodney’s arm. Rodney broke off from his discussion with Trim, mid-handwave, and turned to face John.
“Come on, Rodney,” John said with a grin. “Let’s go plant that electrode of yours so we can get back to the city; Teyla and Ronon are waiting for us.”
~*~
Present Day
The reality of what they are doing doesn’t really fully hit Rodney until he’s carefully piloting the cloaked jumper out of the bay, down to the gateroom and then through the stargate itself. He just has just enough time to glance quickly up to the control room, completely empty as Lorne had promised, as they pass by before the jumper enters the event horizon and they are catapulted light-years away.
Once they've emerged from the Cataran stargate, Rodney heads immediately into orbit, confident that the Ancient technology of the jumper's cloak is sufficiently advanced for them to go completely undetected by any Cataran surveillance. He positions the jumper in Catara's ionosphere in a geosynchronous orbit above the gate, flips on the auto-pilot to hold them there, and, letting out a shaky breath, turns to face Teyla and Ronon.
"So, we're here," he says, somewhat unnecessarily, but his brain hasn't quite caught up to speed just yet. When he'd first come up with the scheme to get them off Atlantis and back to Catara, he hadn't actually anticipated it going quite this smoothly. But, then again, perhaps he's owed a break by this galaxy by now - and he's more than happy to take it now, especially if it means that they will be successful in their quest.
Teyla looks up from where she's been studying the sensor readings, her eyes shining in sheer delight at their successful escape. Ronon too, when Rodney glances back to the jumper's rear seats, looks like he's about to do something rash - like hug Rodney, or perhaps punch him, or at least do something equally unsettling. Rodney decides it's about time he gets his brain back online before he finds out what exactly Ronon has in mind.
"Right, so, let's get to it - prep your scans and initiate," he says decisively, nodding to himself as he turns back to the jumper's controls. He calls up his own science workstation and feels a sense of calm descend as he is greeted by the familiar sight of the scans he custom-wrote for this mission. He starts by first downloading his new scan parameters directly into the DHD of the Cataran stargate, waiting with baited breath as the software integrated. To his delight, the DHD accepts the new protocols easily and he initiates the data upload with a sense of extreme satisfaction. Beside him, Teyla is busy running some sensor sweeps of the planet and behind them, Ronon is engrossed with scanning the solar system for any indication of Wraith activity with the latest, most sensitive and furthest-reaching sweeps Rodney and Radek were able to create. Rodney feels his sense of satisfaction grow - no matter what the IOA might think, they’re a damn fine team.
While Rodney is waiting for his new scanning program to finish going through the Cataran gate’s memory buffer, he decides, on the off-chance, to go ahead and upload the most recent data from the MALP that is still monitoring the Cataran pulsar. After all, he’s still got that odd itch in the back of his brain which says that something is up with the pulsar and he knows from experience that he should trust his instincts.
"Well, I am not detecting any sign that the Cataran have noticed our presence," Teyla reports at last. "Communications from both the city and the research facility are minimal and there is no sign of any of the Cataran aircraft being launched.”
"Just as well," Ronon mutters, still buried in his own workstation. "They've no chance against us anyway."
"No," Rodney agrees. Like Ronon, he is also somewhat distracted by the data he's amassing, but is nevertheless comforted by the knowledge that in the jumper, especially with its improved engines, they are at no danger from even the very best of Konar's defences.
“However,” Teyla continues, sounding a little less heartened this time. “There is still no sign of John’s subcutaneous transponder.”
“Damn,” Rodney curses, pausing in his review of the DHD data to double-check Teyla’s conclusions. “Double damn,” he curses again when his assessment of the readings agrees with Teyla’s and feels the hopelessness start to well up within him once more. “Okay, okay - it’s not the end of the world,” he says quickly, as much to reassure himself as to comfort Teyla and Ronon. “All that means is that it’s unlikely that John’s still on the planet; nothing more, nothing less. And if he’s not on the planet - he’s been taken somewhere else and, now that we’re here, we have everything we need to find out where.”
“And everything we need to get him back too,” Ronon adds, reaching over to tap Rodney lightly on the shoulder with his fist.
“Yes,” Rodney agrees, “to get him back.” He pauses to take a deep breath, willing the hope to swell once more as he turns towards Ronon. “So, what have you got?” he asks.
Ronon flashes a quick grin at Rodney before turning back to his workstation. “No sign of any Wraith,” he reports, studying his screen intently. His brow is furrowed in concentration, reminding Rodney that performing complex sensor scans is not really his preferred way of spending the time. Still, Rodney knows that they need more information before they do anything. He’s all for aiming the guns at John’s captors and letting rip, but he’d also like to know for sure that he’s targeting the right people. And, at the moment, the questions of where John is and who’s responsible for his disappearance are both still up in the air.
“If these scans are doing what they should,” Ronon continues, glancing up at Rodney as he speaks, “it doesn’t look like there’ve been Wraith in the area in a long time.”
“Of course, they’re doing what they should,” Rodney replies, striving for patience. “And what, precisely, does ‘a long time’ mean? Details, please.”
Ronon grunts, but turns back to consult his screen. “Years,” he says. “I think…”
“Years…” Teyla echoes in surprise. “But, the attack… I don’t understand.”
Rodney too, is shocked at the pronouncement, that the results of his new scan could possibly lead Ronon to be that decisive. “Really?” he asks, feeling a little light-headed at the implications of that would be. “Are you sure?”
Ronon scowls at him and stabs a finger towards his screen. “Yes.”
“Let me see that,” Rodney replies, spinning round in the pilot seat so he can peer over Ronon’s shoulder at his screen. As was the case with Teyla’s reports, he needs to see this for himself. “Hmm,” he hums as he consults the read-out, bemused by the seemingly water-tight results which, as Ronon said, indicate that no ship bearing the tell-tale signature of the Wraith has been in the sector in years. He gets to his feet so he can reach past Ronon fully, tapping away at the console one-handed to slightly altering the scan parameters and then setting it to re-run it.
“Well, fuck me,” he says when the results come back the same, sitting back in his chair heavily and rubbing a hand across his face as his brain attempts to formulate a reasonable model which could account for all of the observable data.
“What about you, Rodney?” Teyla asks, reaching out to rest a hand comfortingly on Rodney’s leg for a moment.
Her gentle touch and softly spoken words help still Rodney’s whirring thoughts, allowing him to focus once more and reminding him that there’s still more data to be gathered. “Yes, the data from the gate,” he says. “Hang on…” He lets his words drift off as he turns back to his workstation to review the data he’s managed to retrieve from the Cataran gate and DHD.
"Rodney?" Teyla questions softly as the minutes continue to stretch.
"Okay,” Rodney replies, turning so he can look at both Teyla and Ronon as he adds the final pieces to their puzzle. “According to the tracker we've had on the gate, there's been no activity whatsoever of the Cataran stargate since the last time we had a team here."
"Yes," Ronon says, sounding ever so slightly put out by Rodney’s report. "What of it? We knew that before we left."
"I know that," Rodney says, his own brain still struggling to assimilate all the information. "But this confirms it. You see, I've refined the scan and it now taps directly into this gate’s DHD - so we know we’re getting un-tampered and real-time data.” He leans forward as he tries to convey to his team exactly what this means. “And, what’s more, because I can access the DHD data crystals directly, I can go back even further. Cross-referencing the dialling memory of the Cataran DHD with the Atlantis mission records, it would appear that no one but us has used the gate.”
“What?” Ronon asks sharply.
“No one but us has gone through the Cataran stargate,” Rodney repeats. “The ATA-gene detection data corroborates this - the only people with the ATA gene to have used this gate are Atlantis personnel on specified missions.” He looks from Ronon to Teyla and back again, willing them to understand what he’s saying. “There’s no way anyone - Wraith, Cataran, Genii, hell, even Ancient - could falsify this data.”
“What you’re saying,” Teyla says slowly. “Is that John did not leave Catara through the stargate.”
“No,” Rodney replies. “No, he didn’t - not in any fashion - not dead, not alive, not conscious, and not unconscious,” he pauses for a moment before adding the piece of information -the one that is perhaps the most important. “Not even in the harvest chamber of a dart.”
Teyla’s breath catches in a gasp at his pronouncement, but Ronon is frowning, his dreds swinging and brushing against Rodney’s shoulder as he shakes his head. “I don’t get it,” he says. “If he’s not on the planet and he didn’t leave through the gate, where the hell is he?”
“Could we be missing the signal of his transmitter?” Teyla asks. “Or could whoever has him have deactivated it?”
“I don’t think so,” Rodney replies. “Our subcutaneous transmitters are based on Asgard tech - something that no one in this galaxy has ever encountered. I can’t imagine the Catarans would have sufficient knowledge to even detect John’s, let alone remove or deactivate it.”
“What does this leave us with?” Teyla asks. “You said that the Catarans have some space-worthy ships of their own. Perhaps they took John on one of those?”
“We need to go down there,” Ronon growls, scowling down at the planet through the jumper’s viewscreen and cracking his knuckles ominously. “They’ve got to know more than they’re saying.”
Rodney follows the direction of Ronon’s gaze, letting his eyes go vague and unfocussed as he stares at the bright planet below them, illuminated by the visible light of the system's still-living star. “The living star,” he murmurs to himself, “partner of the dead neutron star, the pulsar.” The itch in his brain intensifies.
“No,” he suddenly finds himself saying aloud, shaking his head at Ronon’s suggestion. “No, we don’t go down to the planet. There’s no point; he’s not there and we’ve no idea who to start questioning.” Turning back to his workstation, Rodney pulls up the readings his MALP has recorded from the pulsar. “No,” he says again. “There’s something else here - something we’re missing.”
~*~
Three Months Ago
“So, what do you make of it all,” John asked Rodney as they made their way out of the compound and started to climb up into the surrounding hills. The day had faded into late afternoon and the heat had finally abated as the sun sank lower in the sky. “An alliance with the Catarans, I mean,” he clarified, taking a deep breath of the clean air and allowing himself to relax a little now that it was just the two of them.
Rodney paused for a moment, coming to a stop in the middle of the path they were following and tilted his head to the side as he considered the question. “It’s potentially promising,” he concluded at last, starting to make his way up the hill once more.
“Well, that’s very decisive of you,” John replied with a laugh as he fell into step beside Rodney.
Rodney shot him a look. “Oh, you know what I mean,” he replied. “You saw exactly the same things that I did and I know that you understood far more about it than you’ll willingly let on… No, no, don’t even try to deny it - I know you, remember?”
“Yeah,” John conceded softly, pleased once more by how accepting Rodney was of their newly changed relationship. “You do.”
“Well, then,” Rodney sniffed, looking half-embarrassed and half-pleased by John’s admission. “Then you also know how very valuable sharing their research on the Wraith could be. I’m sure that were my team to only have a few hours with one of those darts, the information we could learn about how the Wraith operate would be… well… just incredible.”
John nodded, conceding the point, but still… “I don’t trust Trin,” he said. “I don’t know why, but something about the man just rubs me the wrong way.”
“He seemed perfectly pleasant to me,” Rodney replied.
“That’s not saying much,” John said. “You’d find anyone who was willing to let you examine five Wraith darts perfectly pleasant.”
Rodney laughed. “True enough,” he admitted. “But even you, Colonel Suspicious, have got to admit that the Catarans have a lot things going from them.”
“Yes, I do,” John replied. “Teyla seemed pleased with the trade agreement Quoron has proposed,” he said, grateful that this was the case. Despite their now regular contact with Earth, he felt far more comfortable with their position in Pegasus knowing they could be self-sufficient were the need to arise again. “I guess if we can also work something out in terms of a sharing of scientific expertise then we can count this mission a win.”
Giving in to the temptation that had been with him since he and Rodney had left his quarters early that morning, John reached out and put his hand gently on Rodney’s forearm. “So there was something for you on this one after all,” he added, letting his thumb move back and forth over Rodney’s bare skin, luxuriating in the fact that he could now reach out and touch Rodney like this without fear.
“Idiot,” Rodney admonished him, but his tone was affectionate and his face slightly flushed as he turned his head to watch as John caressed him. “Of course there’s something for me - there’s always something for me on our missions, no matter how mundane they might be.” His eyes were serious as he lifted his head to meet John’s gaze.
Entirely unable to resist, John leaned forward and brushed his lips softly across Rodney’s mouth, catching Rodney’s slight gasp before reluctantly pulling back. Rodney’s eyes were wide and ever so slightly glazed and he swayed when John released his grip on Rodney’s arm.
“Yeah,” Rodney said, blinking rapidly as if trying to bring his brain back online. “I guess that I… um… I should get this finished so we can get home and…”
“Continue this,” John finished for him, feeling the anticipation start to curl pleasantly in his belly at the thought. “Yeah, I think you should.”
Nodding to himself, Rodney turned to survey their surroundings before shouldering out of this pack and retrieving his folded up antennae. John allowed himself a few moments in which to contemplate the tempting view of Rodney’s ass as he bent over his pack, before switching his mind forcibly back to the mission.
The sudden whine from overhead caught John by surprise, but his reactions didn’t fail him. His body, well-honed after almost two years of living in Pegasus, reacted perfectly - his eyes scanning the horizon for the source of the threat and possible places of cover, one hand moving to bring his P-90 up and into position, and his other reaching for his radio to contact his team. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Rodney drop down into a crouch beside his newly raised antennae.
Despite the fact that John couldn’t spot any darts, the sound of explosions echoed loudly from somewhere beyond the research facility. “Ronon, Teyla, come in!” he shouted into his radio, hopeful that they had a better view of the situation from the city. However, there was no reply forthcoming. He tried his radio again, flipping the on switch a few times in an effort to establish a connection. The radio, however, was dead.
“Damn it!” he cursed under his breath, pulling the headset from his ear and scowling down at it in disgust. He raised his head and looked up at the sky where, somewhere far beyond the planetary atmosphere, he suspected the pulsar’s EM radiation was directed straight at them. “Figures - how we always manage to time these missions just right I will never know.”
Spotting a small cluster of trees about 50 meters ahead of them up the hill, John debated the various merits of either running for cover or trying to make it back down the research facility. More detonations could now be heard coming from that general direction and part of John’s brain wondered why the facility was being targeted rather than the far more populated city.
“Rodney!” he shouted aloud, turning in a circle one last time to see if he could see anything more. “You getting anything through the comms?” He heard Rodney try to contact Teyla and Ronon, but Rodney seemed to have no more success than John had.
“Right, we need to get to cover,” John decided as another explosion sounded, closely followed by the nauseating sound of a Wraith dart. As he turned to collect Rodney and head up to the cover of the trees, another explosion hit, this one close enough to make the ground beneath them shake violently. John managed to keep his footing, but when he looked up there was no sign of Rodney.
“Rodney!” John yelled, looking around frantically and mentally cursing his inactive radio. There was no sign of him anywhere. “Rodney!”
Another explosion, this one mere meters away from his position. The whine of darts was also louder now, but he still couldn’t see any. Shouting in frustration, John let a volley of bullets fly high into the air in the general direction of where the dart must have been to make the hit.
“Rodney!” he shouted again in desperation. He turned and ran as fast as he could in the direction of where he’d last seen Rodney.
John never knew what hit him; all of a sudden he saw a bright flash and felt a wave of pain pass through his body and then everything faded away into blackness.
****
John regained consciousness in an explosion of pain which threatened to crack his skull apart. After his first brief attempt at opening his eyes was met by nothing more than an exponential increase in the number of white hot needles which felt like they were trying to gouge their way into his brain, he immediately let them fall shut again. Taking a few deep breaths in an effort to calm himself, John managed to overcome his instinctive panic and tried once again. The pain was slightly more bearable this time round, and John blinked cautiously into the blackness, trying to clear his vision. Nothing. Even though he thought that his eyes were open, at least partially, he couldn’t make out a single detail of his surroundings. Feeling slightly sick, he realised that he was either in complete and total darkness or he had been blinded. Swallowing the renewed wave of fear prompted by the latter possibility, John attempted to forget his sight for the time being and concentrate on learning what he could from his other senses.
Despite listening carefully, John couldn’t hear the sound of anyone near him. Still, that didn’t mean that he was alone, only that he was unable to hear his captors above the sound of his pulse echoing loudly and painfully fast in his ears. With the possibility of his being watched in mind, he moved slowly to test out the rest of his physical condition. He was lying on a padded surface, a mat or pallet he guessed for it felt too hard to be a mattress. He arms were stretched out by his sides and when he tried to move them, he found that he was manacled in place by the wrists. Great, he thought to himself, so it seemed like it was his turn to be kidnapped this time around - he could have sworn it was Rodney’s go.
God, Rodney. And Ronon and Telya. Where were they? Had they managed to escape or were they in a similar situation to him?
Grateful for both his training and the years he’d already spent learning about the typical ‘hospitality’ of Pegasus, John managed to retain his calm and continued to assess his situation. After all, if he couldn’t help himself, he certainly wasn’t going to be in any fit state to help his team. Mentally working his way down his body, he discovered that in addition to the restraints on his arms, there was a tight band secured across his chest and his legs were also manacled to the surface on which he was lying. Apart from the ache in his head, his body felt like it had been through the wars as well, the muscles of his thighs and calves aching when he flexed them gently, suggesting that whatever had happened to him, he’d tried to outrun it. His arms also felt slightly fatigued, his right shoulder slightly more sore than his left, evidence that he’d fired his P-90 recently. Repeatedly by the feel of it.
A memory of what had happened would really be good right about now, John thought to himself. He recalled that his team had been on a trade mission, that he’d been with Rodney outside… somewhere, and then the distant sounds of weapons fire. If his headache had not been enough to confirm it, the obvious gaps in his memory obviously were, there had been an attack of some kind and he’d sustained a head injury at, the very least. He had a vague memory of the high-pitched whine of darts - a culling perhaps? Yet it didn’t feel like he was in a hive.
He tried to turn his head, moving gingerly, but soon discovered that it too was being held in place somehow. Although he couldn’t feel a strap or brace holding his head, he was nevertheless unable to turn in any direction. So, it would seem that things were entirely Not Good. He could hear and see nothing, his memories of the events leading up to this were decidedly patchy, and he was totally incapacitated. So far the only things that seemed even remotely positive was the fact that there was no sign that any of the other members of his team had been captured along with him and the fact that it didn’t feel like he was in a Wraith cocoon.
He tried to figure out what his next move should be, but his thoughts were turning sluggish now, his body no match for the cold which was seeping insidiously into every part of him. John tried desperately to hold onto consciousness, not wanting to succumb to a sleep from which he might never awaken. He forced himself to keep thinking, trying to keep active even though his body no longer responded to the impulses of his mind. He repeated his name, rank and serial number over and over again in his head and then started chanting the names of all the different crafts he had flown through the years to himself - anything that could help him hold on to reality. Too soon even that became too much as his synapses became even more sluggish. Atlantis, he thought desperately, that is what he needed to remember; Atlantis, his home, and Rodney, Ronon, Teyla, his family. However, he knew he was fighting a losing battle as his brain slowed even more, the last few vestiges of coherence slipping away from him. Rodney, he thought as his body finally succumbed; he had to have faith - it would be alright, Rodney would save him.
Darkness, silence, coldness, nothing.
~*~
Present Day
Rodney can feel the weight of Teyla and Ronon’s gaze on him as he skims through the readings of the EM and particle emissions the MALP has collected from the pulsar. He knows they’re confused - hell, he’s confused - but he also knows that there is something more to this data than it first appears. The odd mix of the pulsar’s particle flux is still in evidence and Rodney is now convinced that it must mean something.
“But what?” he asks aloud in exasperation. “What is going on with that damn star?”
“Star?” Teyla asks. “The pulsar, you mean?”
“Yes,” Rodney replies. “These readings, they’re… odd. The pulsar seems to be producing a very strange particle flux… It doesn’t make any sense. I can’t explain it.”
“You think it’s connected to Sheppard’s disappearance?” Ronon asks.
“It does seem to be an odd coincidence,” Teyla adds. “For John to disappear and for the pulsar to change at the same time. Perhaps they are related?”
“Well,” Ronon replies. “McKay seems to think they’re related, so I guess it’s worth a look.”
Rodney continues to frown down at the data readings as his team mates discuss the situation. The part of him which is still attending to their conversation can’t help but feel gratified at the obvious faith they have in his abilities and his instincts. Now he just has to prove himself worthy of them.
“Okay, okay,” he says, as much to himself as to Ronon and Teyla. “So what could be going on here? Why would the pulsar suddenly start emitting such a strange spectrum of particles?”
“Particles?” Teyla questions. “I thought it was radio waves that this pulsar emitted.”
“Oh, yes, it does that too,” he replies, trying to think of a way to explain. “But all stars also radiate particles - electrons, photons and the like, including radio waves.” He twirls a hand in the air to encompass the plethora of other sub-atomic particles. “But what’s odd here is the particular spectrum of energies I’m detecting…” He shakes his head and scowls at the readings. “It’s almost as if…” his voice trails off as he dredges his memory for the relevant bits of elementary particle physics that will hopefully enable him to work out just what the hell is going on.
Leaning back in his chair, Rodney pats his hands up and down his chest in search of a pen. Finding one stuck down in the inside pocket of his jacket, fortuitously alongside a small notepad, he draws both out and starts scribbling down the list of particles in the flux, muttering their names aloud as he does so. “Muons, pions, kaons, electrons, photons…” List completed, he stares down at the paper for a few seconds before lifting his gaze to stare out of the jumper’s viewscreen, not at the planet this time, but instead out into the blackness of the seemingly empty space.
“McKay?” This time it’s Ronon’s low tones which bring him back to himself.
“There’s something out there,” he says, staring out at the vacuum with dawning understanding. “There’s got to be - it’s the only explanation.”
“Like a ship?” Ronon asks, his excitement at the prospect evident in his voice. “You think they’ve got Sheppard on a ship?”
“Not a ship,” Rodney says, thoughts flying. “More like a… well, some sort of particle accelerator.” He shakes his head again; just as certain that the idea is quite clearly preposterous as he is that it really is the only logical explanation. “Trouble is, I’m sure Occam’s razor isn’t supposed to point to something quite this bizarre.”
“Rodney?”
Turning to face Teyla, Rodney waves his notepad at her. “I think there’s something out there that’s doing this.”
“Doing what?” Ronon asks.
“This!” Rodney says, shaking his pad at Ronon this time. “Causing the pulsar to behave like this. I know it sounds crazy, but really the only thing I can think of which would account for what I’m detecting would be if the pulsar was all of a sudden creating strange quarks.”
“Strange quarks?” Teyla asks. “They are particles themselves, are they not?”
“Yes,” Rodney replies, glancing at her in surprise that she would be aware of such a fact, but quickly suppressing it for discussion at a later time. “But they’re not something you’d expect to detect because they decay far too quickly. However, what you would expect to see if strange quarks were decaying is precisely what this pulsar is emitting.”
“And the detection of these strange things is important?” Ronon queries, rising from his seat to lean over the back of Teyla’s chair, presumably so he can get a better view of proceedings.
“They’re strange quarks,” Rodney corrects automatically. “And, yes, detecting them - or rather the particles into which they ultimately decay - is important… at least I think so. The fact that this pulsar seems to be producing them suggests that something is affecting the very composition of the star.”
Both Ronon and Teyla are looking at him now as if he’s gone completely mad. “Look,” Rodney tries again, with more urgency this time. “This isn’t a natural phenomenon - someone is doing this, causing this change.”
“The Catarans?” Teyla suggests.
“I don’t know,” Rodney replies. “I’d find it hard to believe that it’s their invention - I mean the level of technology we’re talking about here is just… well, immense. It’d probably be beyond our present capacity and well beyond that of the Catarans, I would have thought. To be honest, if I had to make a guess, I’d say the only people capable of building something capable of catalysing such a change would be the Ancients.”
“But there was no evidence of any Ancient presence on Catara,” Teyla says.
“Not on Catara, no,” Rodney agrees. “But, like I said, the only thing I can think of capable of altering the pulsar in this way would be some sort of particle accelerator. An Ancient particle accelerator which would have to be in orbit around the pulsar itself.”
“They have ships, though, don’t they,” Ronon says flatly. “Cataran spaceships, Ancient technology, and Sheppard’s gene.”
“Exactly,” Rodney says, impressed with Ronon’s insight as he’s only just coming to terms with the implications of the facts himself. He hears Teyla give a gasp of understanding as he turns back to his workstation and starts to run yet another sensor sweep, this time of the space around the pulsar rather than the planet. “His damn gene.”
~*~
Sometime Earlier
Cold, confusion, pain. He tried to move, but was somehow locked in place. Despite this, his body convulses every now and then completely beyond his control, his limbs jerking and twitching in his bonds as if electrical impulses were being funnelled directly into his muscle fibres. His head throbbed with painful intensity with each beat of his heart and his skin felt raw and hypersensitive, but at least his heart was still beating and his body, although of no use to him at the moment, was apparently still capable of sensation.
Everything was dark; he wasn’t even sure if his eyes were open or closed. His mind was no better - thoughts confused, memories blank, consciousness slipping.
Darkness, silence, coldness, nothing.
****
Awareness crept upon him gradually again, but little seemed to have changed. He was still unable to move, uncontrollable spasms still wracked his body every few minutes, and he was still confused and had no clear idea of where or even who he was. It felt like he was at the bottom of a deep sea trench, the cold water freezing his blood, the great pressure of many atmospheres leaving him immobile, the lack of oxygen dulling his mind and his senses. It was dark and cold and there was pain. That was the sum of his existence.
Suddenly something new happened; there came the sound of raised voices, the words unintelligible, but the tone nevertheless recognisable - angry, impatient, dangerous. The sounds echoed down towards him as if from a great distance, as if something was happening on the sunlit surface of the water and he could only sense the odd ripple of disturbance from his eerie half-life. Nevertheless, the new sensory inputs - almost too loud after what seemed like an eternity of nothingness - sparked a flash of something… a single word, a memory perhaps, or maybe even a prayer… Atlantis.
But consciousness was fleeting. All too soon the voices faded away and he was left lying in dark, cold silence once more. Thought faded.
Darkness, silence, coldness, nothing.
~*~
When I Sorrow Most pt. 5
'When I Sorrow Most' part 2 is here.
'When I Sorrow Most' part 3 is here.
When I Sorrow Most
Part Four
Three Months Ago
John felt the heat hit him like a wall as he soon as they stepped out of the Quoron’s pavilion and back into the hot Cataran afternoon. As had been decided, Quoron and Karania were to take Ronon and Teyla on a tour of the market whilst Rodney and John would go with Konar to see the research facility. Rodney was practically buzzing with scientific excitement, too caught up in questioning Konar about the details of their experiments with Wraith technology to even complain about the temperature.
“So you’ve been able to de-code the Wraith’s programming?” John heard him ask.
“Yes,” came Konar’s reply. “We have a team of programmers who work exclusively…”
John tuned out the remainder of the discussion as he turned to speak to Teyla and Ronon. “Keep in touch,” he said to them in an undertone. “Alternating hourly check-ins starting with you two, okay?”
“Yes, John,” Teyla replied as Ronon grunted his assent. “Although I do not believe we have anything to worry about,” she continued.
“Doesn’t look like it so far,” John agreed, letting his gaze flick back to Rodney and Konar, still both deep in discussion. “Let’s hope it stays that way.”
Just then, a large motorized vehicle pulled up in front of the pavilion. A smartly dressed driver stepped out from the front compartment and moved to the rear of the vehicle to pull open a door.
“Colonel, Dr McKay, if you would be so good as to step inside,” Konar said, gesturing towards the vehicle’s interior, “then we can be on our way to the facility.”
“Bit like a limo,” Rodney commented to John as he took his seat inside the spacious vehicle. As John settled himself opposite Rodney, he had to admit that he could see what he meant. Despite the back entrance, the inside of the vehicle’s size and facing rows of seats running its length, was reminiscent of a limousine.
“It will be about a twenty minute journey to our research centre,” Konar said as he sat down next to Rodney and gestured for the driver to go. The vehicle glided smoothly into action, its engine purring in a remarkably similar fashion to that of a car. “As Balar no doubt told you, our economy is mostly based on agriculture and food production, and it is in those industries that most of our population works,” Konar explained. “However, the presence of the Wraith has necessitated us to allocate a substantial proportion of our resources to the research and development of weapons with which to fight them.”
“You also appear to have an advanced energy production facilities,” Rodney commented as they left the main square behind them. John noted that they were heading out to the edges of the city, but moving in the opposite direction of the stargate.
“Yes,” Konar agreed. “The southern region of Cata, our most populated continent and where we are at present, has rich supplies of paraf - a hydrocarbon liquid which, once properly refined, produces great quantities of energy when burned.”
“Ah, yes,” Rodney said. “It sounds like petroleum,” he explained to John.
“You are familiar with it?” Konar asked.
“Very,” Rodney replied. “Most of our home planet is powered in exactly the same way.”
“And here?” Konar asked again. “For your… What did you call it? Your expedition. For this, you use an alternative source?”
Rodney shot John a questioning look to which John responded with a small nod, indicating that Rodney could answer Konar’s question. After all, the man was being open enough to take them on a tour of their research facilities. John figured that such openness demanded at least some small show of faith from them in return.
“We use a variety of different power sources for the expedition,” Rodney explained, turning back to face Konar as he spoke. “Most of our energy comes for our base from a power generator called a Zero Point Module. It’s an incredibly powerful device which is able to extract vacuum energy. However, in addition to that, we also have a number of generators which use a mineral called naquadah. It’s what the stargates are made from and one of its unique properties is that it can amplify energy.”
As they continued to discuss energy production, John watched Konar, looking closely to see if he would be tempted to use any of this information against them. To John’s relief, Konar appeared be no more than genuinely interested in the exchange of knowledge.
“How fascinating,” Konar was saying. “Of course, I know very little about such things myself. I will have to introduce you to Fader Trin as he has a particular interest in energy production and will no doubt be able to appreciate your insight far better than I, Dr McKay.”
“Trin is one of your scientists?” John asked, all too well aware of what happened when potential allies decided that they ‘appreciated’ Rodney.
“He is a scientist, yes. A talented one at that, but he is not directly employed by the government,” Konar replied. “His family own most of the power plants and the mining facilities on Cata, so, as you can imagine, there is no need for him to work.”
“Influential, then,” John commented.
“Very, Colonel,” Konar replied with a wry smile. “But, his family connections aside, he is a brilliant scientist and a very astute man - I am fortunate to have him consent to work with my research team.” Konar sat forward then, looking past John and out the front of the vehicle’s windshield. “Ah, we have almost arrived.”
John turned his head to look outside, noting that they were just pulling up to the rather austere set of gates, which were guarded by men wearing the same type of uniform as their driver. The gates were swung open as soon as the guards recognized the vehicle’s occupants and they were then driving up a narrow road towards a huge concrete building. The shape of the building, with its array of cooling towers, looked familiar.
“It’s the power station we saw from across the city,” Rodney said as he too looked up at the large construction.
“This is the Cataran Ministry’s prime Research and Development site,” Konar said. “And, yes, the site is also used by the Trin power corporation.” The vehicle came to a stop outside the imposing doors of the building and the driver once again came around to let them out.
“After you, gentlemen,” Konar said graciously.
The next hour was spent touring what John suspected was only the public-facing end of the R&D facility. Konar, despite his reserved exterior, had turned out to be a genial host once he’d become convinced that both John and Rodney very obviously knew what they were talking about when it came to fighting the Wraith. John left most of the talking to Rodney, content to merely stand back and observe. After all, it gave him a better opportunity to watch out for Rodney as well as simply to watch him.
Rodney was very much in his professional researcher-mode, questioning Konar closely about everything they were being shown and practically interrogating each scientist to whom they were introduced. In the first part of the tour, Konar showed them through the facility’s numerous laboratories, all of which housed countless scientists completely engrossed in their separate projects. Konar explained that each set of labs specialized in a particular project - so there were cross-disciplinary teams working on a wide range of research and defence protocols. From the few things John could pick out and understand, he was certain he spotted weaponry, aircraft, satellites and computer systems all at different stages of design and development.
Rodney seemed to be just as much at home in these labs as he was in his own back on Atlantis. Despite the fact that the Catarans used a totally different type of notation, John had to get a firm grip on Rodney’s arm on a number of occasions to prevent him from plucking a pen out of a nearby scientist’s hand and correcting their calculations.
“You never let me have any fun,” Rodney complained under his breath after one particularly close call, glowering down at where John had a hand wrapped tightly around his elbow.
In response, John cocked an eyebrow at Rodney and then proceeded to turn his grip into a caress, slowly stroking his fingers down the bare inside of Rodney’s arm all the way to his wrist and delighting in the blush that slowly started to stain Rodney’s cheeks.
“Yes, yes, alright,” Rodney said, blinking rapidly as if to clear his mind and shaking off John’s hand. “I’ll behave… just stop with the…” he trailed off and flapped a hand at John. “You know.”
“Good,” John replied, leaning into Rodney to whisper his final words directly into Rodney’s ear. “We can have plenty of fun and ‘you know’ when we get back home.” He pulled back quickly, watching Rodney shiver in reaction, and proceeded to follow Konar into the next room.
From the labs, they moved outside and across the compound to a large structure that reminded John of an aircraft hanger.
“The practical part, I presume,” Rodney commented to Konar as they approached it.
“Exactly,” Konar replied. “Of course, our most advanced prototypes are located at the nearby military base for testing, but our research vessels are here.”
“Research vessels?” John asked.
Konar looked over at him, an amused look on his face. “Oh yes, Colonel,” he replied. “This is where we keep the darts.”
Rodney stumbled at Konar’s casually spoken words. He would have, in fact, fallen had John not reacted almost instantaneously, spinning around and reaching out his arms to catch hold of Rodney before he fell.
“Darts?! You have actual Wraith darts here?” Rodney babbled, using John’s chest for leverage as he pushed himself upright.
“Yes, Dr McKay,” Konar said. “We have two darts which crashed near the city during the last culling. Of course, I suspect they are rather out-dated by now, but they nevertheless have taught us much about Wraith technology.”
Rodney was still spluttering at John’s side, as if the words from his no doubt numerous questions were getting impossibly tangled on his tongue in their eagerness to be voiced.
“You have been able to reverse engineer them?” John took the opportunity to ask, knowing that he was probably looking just as eager as Rodney was by the prospect.
“To a certain extent,” Konar replied slowly, as if unwilling to admit to more. “But you should probably talk to one of the scientists on the project for the exact details.”
They had, by this point, arrived at the hanger doors. Stepping forward, Konar punched a series of numbers into a keypad to the right-hand side of the entrance way, and the heavy metal slowly swung open with a groan. Peering inside, John noted that the interior of the hanger was large and brightly lit by rows of florescent lights hanging from the high ceiling. It was also a hive of activity and a surprisingly large number of people were milling about, all dressed in overalls and most of them carrying toolkits of some description. However, what really caught John’s attention was the obvious focus of their work - the five Wraith darts.
“Oh, wow,” Rodney breathed as he slowly stepped into the hanger, moving towards the nearest dart as if mesmerized. John found himself doing the very same thing, captivated by at last being in such close proximity to an object which represented all that had come to be the bane of his existence for the past year and a half. For a moment, all either of them could do was stand there and look at the darts in awe.
“This is amazing,” Rodney said at last in a low tone. “I mean, just think about the possibilities. Even if they are no longer exactly the models the Wraith are using today, what we could learn from them; how they’re manufactured, the materials, engine schematics, computer coding, weapons… just, well, everything.”
John nodded in agreement, feeling his excitement build. They’d been looking for an opportunity to get their hands on some Wraith technology since practically their first encounter. Of course, over the years, they had been able to glean bits of information here and there - from Rodney’s team searches of the Ancient database, Ronon and Teyla’s first-hand knowledge, and from their own encounters - but there was still so much they didn’t know or understand.
“How long have you had them? What have you learned so far? Have you been able to decipher their programming? Replicate any of their systems? Understand the biological base which underpins their technology?” Rodney was bouncing on his toes in his excitement as quick-fired his questions at an amused looking Konar.
Konar held up a placating hand in Rodney’s direction. “Like I said, Dr McKay, I am hardly an expert. Let me see if I can find… Ah, Fader, exactly the man I was hoping to see. Colonel Sheppard, Dr McKay, may I introduce Dr Fader Trim, our foremost expert in Wraith technology.”
****
Fader Trim, John decided as he made his way back to the group having made his latest scheduled check-in with Ronon and Teyla, was someone on whom it was probably worth keeping an eye. He was a fairly average looking man, in his early forties with a thick shock of black hair which was showing the first signs of starting to grey, who certainly posed no threat with his physical presence. However, there was something in the keen intelligence that shone from his eyes that disconcerted John. Not that intelligence was usually something that disturbed him. In fact, nothing usually could be further from the truth: case in point, one Rodney McKay, arguably the smartest man in two galaxies, to whom John was more than just a little attached. But Trin’s intelligence was something different than Rodney’s, John thought as he looked from one man to the other. Rodney’s genius was sharp and bright - much like the man himself - piercing, arrogant, and almost always right. Rodney sought the truth of things relentlessly and without much thought to the consequences. True, he might talk of Nobels and glory, but when he was stuck in to a problem, he was totally committed to its solution for its own sake. After all, John knew all too well that Rodney was more than likely to remain in a life-threatening situation in an effort to prove that his science was true, even when all other evidence pointed to the contrary.
Trin, on the other hand, seemed to John to be much more mercenary in his intelligence. Konar had left them in Trin’s care whilst he attended to some business elsewhere in the facility. As Trin had showed them around the hanger, talking in only the vaguest terms about what the Catarans had learned from studying the darts, John couldn’t escape the impression that he was somehow testing them, viewing them as potential competition. John had observed enough of his father’s often cut-throat business dealings to recognize the signs and to be wary of them. Unsurprisingly, Rodney was largely oblivious to Trin’s subtle probings. Although it was true that he was now far more cautious in his dealings with other scientists since his run-in with Koyla, there were still times when his scientific curiosity, not to mention his professional pride, got the better of him. As John smoothly insinuated himself back into Trin and Rodney’s discussion, he knew without doubt that his was certainly one of those times.
“It’s a completely different basis for technology entirely,” Rodney was saying, hands waving excitedly as he expounded upon his point. “It’s fascinating when you think about it, rather like biological evolution - here we have real evidence of the two different methods of attaining technological advancement being pitted against one another in a literal fight for survival. You’ve got the Wraith, on the one hand, developing a largely biological base, and the Ancients, on the other, going down the hard-core hardware route, albeit with a nod to biology in the genetic component necessary for the activation of their technology.”
“Ah, but the Wraith have also developed a complex, as you call it, hardware basis,” Trin replied, gesturing towards the darts engine core which looked to John to be a tangled mess of engine parts connected by something that looked disturbingly like veins.
“I have to admit,” Trin continued, “that my knowledge of the technology of the Ancestors - the Ancients - is not great, but a comparison of how each type performs in practice would be most illuminating.” He regarded Rodney thoughtfully, “You say the Ancients technology has a genetic component, this is something of which I was not aware.”
Rodney was nodding. “Yes, not for all of it of course - the stargate for a start requires no more than the knowledge of another gate’s address and use of the dialling device, but some of the more complex or experimental pieces do require a particular genetic marker to be present in the user for them to become active.”
At this point, John thought it was about time for him to step in - the last thing he needed was for what was looking like a successful mission to go all to hell because, yet again, someone thought it would be a good idea to kidnap his scientist and use him for their own nefarious purposes. “I’m not surprised you don’t know much about Ancient tech,” he said to Trin, hoping to distract him from Rodney, at whom he’d been looking with ever growing interest. “Apart from the gate, we haven’t noticed any indication of their presence here.”
Trin turned at John’s words, interest still lighting his dark eyes. “This is something you look for, Colonel?” he asked. “Ancient technology.”
“To a certain extent,” John replied warily, a trickle of unease running down his spine at the wording of Trin’s enquiry. “In addition to our own technology, we do use a lot of what was left by the Ancients. We’re always interested in learning more.”
The interest in Trin’s eyes grew deeper for a moment as his gaze darted between John and Rodney, before lessening again. “As are we, Colonel,” Trin said mildly. “After all, with knowledge comes the ability to defend ourselves; that is what my life’s work has all been about. I do hope that an agreement can be reached between our people because I am sure there is much we can learn from each other.”
“Yes,” John agreed cautiously, still trying to work out quite what it was about Trin that seemed to rub him the wrong way. Just then Konar re-appeared, crossing the hanger with his long stride.
“Well, gentlemen,” Konar said as he joined them. “I hope you have enjoyed your time with Fader. Perhaps we should now return to the city and rendezvous with Balar and your colleagues?”
John was about to reply that the suggestion was a good one when Rodney beat him to it.
“No,” he said, his eyes locked on his scanner. “Uh - I mean, could we have a little extra time here?” he clarified, digging around in his rucksack and finally producing his scanner.
“Rodney?” John asked warningly.
“I don’t need long,” Rodney said, looking over at John with eyes wide in entreaty before focusing his attention back to his scanner. “It’s just that we are a good distance from the stargate here and that hill over there,” he waved a hand towards the hill at the east of the facility, “looks like a perfect place to site the second electrode.”
Oh, right, of course, John thought with a smile. How could he possibly have forgotten Rodney’s bastardised MALP?
“Electrode?” Trin queried, his interest obviously piqued.
“Oh, merely a simplistic antennae,” Rodney explained. “I wanted to get some readings of the pulsar in your system - the… uh… speaking star, I believe you call it.”
“Ah, yes,” Trin said, nodding. “It emits intermittent EM radiation that, when directed towards our planet, interferes with our technology.”
“Exactly,” Rodney replied. “It’s an interesting astronomical phenomenon and one our scientists have not had the opportunity to study at such close range.” It suddenly seemed to occur to Rodney that perhaps the Catarans might object to his measurements, so he beckoned Trin closer, showing him the MALP’s design on his scanner and explaining the data it was designed to collect.
John looked over at Konar. “Would you mind?” he asked in an undertone. “We’ll just head up there,” he thumbed in the direction of the hill to which Rodney had haphazardly waved. “Rodney can do his thing and we’ll be back down here before you know it.”
“Of course, Colonel,” Konar replied. “I do not mind at all.” He cast an amused glance at Rodney and Trin, who were both in animated discussions, before cocking an eyebrow at John. “I understand the… ah… delicacies involved in working with people such as your Dr McKay.” He swept his hand out to encompass the totality of the complex and the no-doubt thousands of researchers who worked within it. “It certainly makes a change from my time as a solely military commander.”
John grinned back at Konar, his last remaining reservations about the man melting away. “Yeah, well, I hear ya,” he replied. “It all sounds very familiar.” Turning back towards his Dr McKay, John reached out and got a firm grip on Rodney’s arm. Rodney broke off from his discussion with Trim, mid-handwave, and turned to face John.
“Come on, Rodney,” John said with a grin. “Let’s go plant that electrode of yours so we can get back to the city; Teyla and Ronon are waiting for us.”
~*~
Present Day
The reality of what they are doing doesn’t really fully hit Rodney until he’s carefully piloting the cloaked jumper out of the bay, down to the gateroom and then through the stargate itself. He just has just enough time to glance quickly up to the control room, completely empty as Lorne had promised, as they pass by before the jumper enters the event horizon and they are catapulted light-years away.
Once they've emerged from the Cataran stargate, Rodney heads immediately into orbit, confident that the Ancient technology of the jumper's cloak is sufficiently advanced for them to go completely undetected by any Cataran surveillance. He positions the jumper in Catara's ionosphere in a geosynchronous orbit above the gate, flips on the auto-pilot to hold them there, and, letting out a shaky breath, turns to face Teyla and Ronon.
"So, we're here," he says, somewhat unnecessarily, but his brain hasn't quite caught up to speed just yet. When he'd first come up with the scheme to get them off Atlantis and back to Catara, he hadn't actually anticipated it going quite this smoothly. But, then again, perhaps he's owed a break by this galaxy by now - and he's more than happy to take it now, especially if it means that they will be successful in their quest.
Teyla looks up from where she's been studying the sensor readings, her eyes shining in sheer delight at their successful escape. Ronon too, when Rodney glances back to the jumper's rear seats, looks like he's about to do something rash - like hug Rodney, or perhaps punch him, or at least do something equally unsettling. Rodney decides it's about time he gets his brain back online before he finds out what exactly Ronon has in mind.
"Right, so, let's get to it - prep your scans and initiate," he says decisively, nodding to himself as he turns back to the jumper's controls. He calls up his own science workstation and feels a sense of calm descend as he is greeted by the familiar sight of the scans he custom-wrote for this mission. He starts by first downloading his new scan parameters directly into the DHD of the Cataran stargate, waiting with baited breath as the software integrated. To his delight, the DHD accepts the new protocols easily and he initiates the data upload with a sense of extreme satisfaction. Beside him, Teyla is busy running some sensor sweeps of the planet and behind them, Ronon is engrossed with scanning the solar system for any indication of Wraith activity with the latest, most sensitive and furthest-reaching sweeps Rodney and Radek were able to create. Rodney feels his sense of satisfaction grow - no matter what the IOA might think, they’re a damn fine team.
While Rodney is waiting for his new scanning program to finish going through the Cataran gate’s memory buffer, he decides, on the off-chance, to go ahead and upload the most recent data from the MALP that is still monitoring the Cataran pulsar. After all, he’s still got that odd itch in the back of his brain which says that something is up with the pulsar and he knows from experience that he should trust his instincts.
"Well, I am not detecting any sign that the Cataran have noticed our presence," Teyla reports at last. "Communications from both the city and the research facility are minimal and there is no sign of any of the Cataran aircraft being launched.”
"Just as well," Ronon mutters, still buried in his own workstation. "They've no chance against us anyway."
"No," Rodney agrees. Like Ronon, he is also somewhat distracted by the data he's amassing, but is nevertheless comforted by the knowledge that in the jumper, especially with its improved engines, they are at no danger from even the very best of Konar's defences.
“However,” Teyla continues, sounding a little less heartened this time. “There is still no sign of John’s subcutaneous transponder.”
“Damn,” Rodney curses, pausing in his review of the DHD data to double-check Teyla’s conclusions. “Double damn,” he curses again when his assessment of the readings agrees with Teyla’s and feels the hopelessness start to well up within him once more. “Okay, okay - it’s not the end of the world,” he says quickly, as much to reassure himself as to comfort Teyla and Ronon. “All that means is that it’s unlikely that John’s still on the planet; nothing more, nothing less. And if he’s not on the planet - he’s been taken somewhere else and, now that we’re here, we have everything we need to find out where.”
“And everything we need to get him back too,” Ronon adds, reaching over to tap Rodney lightly on the shoulder with his fist.
“Yes,” Rodney agrees, “to get him back.” He pauses to take a deep breath, willing the hope to swell once more as he turns towards Ronon. “So, what have you got?” he asks.
Ronon flashes a quick grin at Rodney before turning back to his workstation. “No sign of any Wraith,” he reports, studying his screen intently. His brow is furrowed in concentration, reminding Rodney that performing complex sensor scans is not really his preferred way of spending the time. Still, Rodney knows that they need more information before they do anything. He’s all for aiming the guns at John’s captors and letting rip, but he’d also like to know for sure that he’s targeting the right people. And, at the moment, the questions of where John is and who’s responsible for his disappearance are both still up in the air.
“If these scans are doing what they should,” Ronon continues, glancing up at Rodney as he speaks, “it doesn’t look like there’ve been Wraith in the area in a long time.”
“Of course, they’re doing what they should,” Rodney replies, striving for patience. “And what, precisely, does ‘a long time’ mean? Details, please.”
Ronon grunts, but turns back to consult his screen. “Years,” he says. “I think…”
“Years…” Teyla echoes in surprise. “But, the attack… I don’t understand.”
Rodney too, is shocked at the pronouncement, that the results of his new scan could possibly lead Ronon to be that decisive. “Really?” he asks, feeling a little light-headed at the implications of that would be. “Are you sure?”
Ronon scowls at him and stabs a finger towards his screen. “Yes.”
“Let me see that,” Rodney replies, spinning round in the pilot seat so he can peer over Ronon’s shoulder at his screen. As was the case with Teyla’s reports, he needs to see this for himself. “Hmm,” he hums as he consults the read-out, bemused by the seemingly water-tight results which, as Ronon said, indicate that no ship bearing the tell-tale signature of the Wraith has been in the sector in years. He gets to his feet so he can reach past Ronon fully, tapping away at the console one-handed to slightly altering the scan parameters and then setting it to re-run it.
“Well, fuck me,” he says when the results come back the same, sitting back in his chair heavily and rubbing a hand across his face as his brain attempts to formulate a reasonable model which could account for all of the observable data.
“What about you, Rodney?” Teyla asks, reaching out to rest a hand comfortingly on Rodney’s leg for a moment.
Her gentle touch and softly spoken words help still Rodney’s whirring thoughts, allowing him to focus once more and reminding him that there’s still more data to be gathered. “Yes, the data from the gate,” he says. “Hang on…” He lets his words drift off as he turns back to his workstation to review the data he’s managed to retrieve from the Cataran gate and DHD.
"Rodney?" Teyla questions softly as the minutes continue to stretch.
"Okay,” Rodney replies, turning so he can look at both Teyla and Ronon as he adds the final pieces to their puzzle. “According to the tracker we've had on the gate, there's been no activity whatsoever of the Cataran stargate since the last time we had a team here."
"Yes," Ronon says, sounding ever so slightly put out by Rodney’s report. "What of it? We knew that before we left."
"I know that," Rodney says, his own brain still struggling to assimilate all the information. "But this confirms it. You see, I've refined the scan and it now taps directly into this gate’s DHD - so we know we’re getting un-tampered and real-time data.” He leans forward as he tries to convey to his team exactly what this means. “And, what’s more, because I can access the DHD data crystals directly, I can go back even further. Cross-referencing the dialling memory of the Cataran DHD with the Atlantis mission records, it would appear that no one but us has used the gate.”
“What?” Ronon asks sharply.
“No one but us has gone through the Cataran stargate,” Rodney repeats. “The ATA-gene detection data corroborates this - the only people with the ATA gene to have used this gate are Atlantis personnel on specified missions.” He looks from Ronon to Teyla and back again, willing them to understand what he’s saying. “There’s no way anyone - Wraith, Cataran, Genii, hell, even Ancient - could falsify this data.”
“What you’re saying,” Teyla says slowly. “Is that John did not leave Catara through the stargate.”
“No,” Rodney replies. “No, he didn’t - not in any fashion - not dead, not alive, not conscious, and not unconscious,” he pauses for a moment before adding the piece of information -the one that is perhaps the most important. “Not even in the harvest chamber of a dart.”
Teyla’s breath catches in a gasp at his pronouncement, but Ronon is frowning, his dreds swinging and brushing against Rodney’s shoulder as he shakes his head. “I don’t get it,” he says. “If he’s not on the planet and he didn’t leave through the gate, where the hell is he?”
“Could we be missing the signal of his transmitter?” Teyla asks. “Or could whoever has him have deactivated it?”
“I don’t think so,” Rodney replies. “Our subcutaneous transmitters are based on Asgard tech - something that no one in this galaxy has ever encountered. I can’t imagine the Catarans would have sufficient knowledge to even detect John’s, let alone remove or deactivate it.”
“What does this leave us with?” Teyla asks. “You said that the Catarans have some space-worthy ships of their own. Perhaps they took John on one of those?”
“We need to go down there,” Ronon growls, scowling down at the planet through the jumper’s viewscreen and cracking his knuckles ominously. “They’ve got to know more than they’re saying.”
Rodney follows the direction of Ronon’s gaze, letting his eyes go vague and unfocussed as he stares at the bright planet below them, illuminated by the visible light of the system's still-living star. “The living star,” he murmurs to himself, “partner of the dead neutron star, the pulsar.” The itch in his brain intensifies.
“No,” he suddenly finds himself saying aloud, shaking his head at Ronon’s suggestion. “No, we don’t go down to the planet. There’s no point; he’s not there and we’ve no idea who to start questioning.” Turning back to his workstation, Rodney pulls up the readings his MALP has recorded from the pulsar. “No,” he says again. “There’s something else here - something we’re missing.”
~*~
Three Months Ago
“So, what do you make of it all,” John asked Rodney as they made their way out of the compound and started to climb up into the surrounding hills. The day had faded into late afternoon and the heat had finally abated as the sun sank lower in the sky. “An alliance with the Catarans, I mean,” he clarified, taking a deep breath of the clean air and allowing himself to relax a little now that it was just the two of them.
Rodney paused for a moment, coming to a stop in the middle of the path they were following and tilted his head to the side as he considered the question. “It’s potentially promising,” he concluded at last, starting to make his way up the hill once more.
“Well, that’s very decisive of you,” John replied with a laugh as he fell into step beside Rodney.
Rodney shot him a look. “Oh, you know what I mean,” he replied. “You saw exactly the same things that I did and I know that you understood far more about it than you’ll willingly let on… No, no, don’t even try to deny it - I know you, remember?”
“Yeah,” John conceded softly, pleased once more by how accepting Rodney was of their newly changed relationship. “You do.”
“Well, then,” Rodney sniffed, looking half-embarrassed and half-pleased by John’s admission. “Then you also know how very valuable sharing their research on the Wraith could be. I’m sure that were my team to only have a few hours with one of those darts, the information we could learn about how the Wraith operate would be… well… just incredible.”
John nodded, conceding the point, but still… “I don’t trust Trin,” he said. “I don’t know why, but something about the man just rubs me the wrong way.”
“He seemed perfectly pleasant to me,” Rodney replied.
“That’s not saying much,” John said. “You’d find anyone who was willing to let you examine five Wraith darts perfectly pleasant.”
Rodney laughed. “True enough,” he admitted. “But even you, Colonel Suspicious, have got to admit that the Catarans have a lot things going from them.”
“Yes, I do,” John replied. “Teyla seemed pleased with the trade agreement Quoron has proposed,” he said, grateful that this was the case. Despite their now regular contact with Earth, he felt far more comfortable with their position in Pegasus knowing they could be self-sufficient were the need to arise again. “I guess if we can also work something out in terms of a sharing of scientific expertise then we can count this mission a win.”
Giving in to the temptation that had been with him since he and Rodney had left his quarters early that morning, John reached out and put his hand gently on Rodney’s forearm. “So there was something for you on this one after all,” he added, letting his thumb move back and forth over Rodney’s bare skin, luxuriating in the fact that he could now reach out and touch Rodney like this without fear.
“Idiot,” Rodney admonished him, but his tone was affectionate and his face slightly flushed as he turned his head to watch as John caressed him. “Of course there’s something for me - there’s always something for me on our missions, no matter how mundane they might be.” His eyes were serious as he lifted his head to meet John’s gaze.
Entirely unable to resist, John leaned forward and brushed his lips softly across Rodney’s mouth, catching Rodney’s slight gasp before reluctantly pulling back. Rodney’s eyes were wide and ever so slightly glazed and he swayed when John released his grip on Rodney’s arm.
“Yeah,” Rodney said, blinking rapidly as if trying to bring his brain back online. “I guess that I… um… I should get this finished so we can get home and…”
“Continue this,” John finished for him, feeling the anticipation start to curl pleasantly in his belly at the thought. “Yeah, I think you should.”
Nodding to himself, Rodney turned to survey their surroundings before shouldering out of this pack and retrieving his folded up antennae. John allowed himself a few moments in which to contemplate the tempting view of Rodney’s ass as he bent over his pack, before switching his mind forcibly back to the mission.
The sudden whine from overhead caught John by surprise, but his reactions didn’t fail him. His body, well-honed after almost two years of living in Pegasus, reacted perfectly - his eyes scanning the horizon for the source of the threat and possible places of cover, one hand moving to bring his P-90 up and into position, and his other reaching for his radio to contact his team. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Rodney drop down into a crouch beside his newly raised antennae.
Despite the fact that John couldn’t spot any darts, the sound of explosions echoed loudly from somewhere beyond the research facility. “Ronon, Teyla, come in!” he shouted into his radio, hopeful that they had a better view of the situation from the city. However, there was no reply forthcoming. He tried his radio again, flipping the on switch a few times in an effort to establish a connection. The radio, however, was dead.
“Damn it!” he cursed under his breath, pulling the headset from his ear and scowling down at it in disgust. He raised his head and looked up at the sky where, somewhere far beyond the planetary atmosphere, he suspected the pulsar’s EM radiation was directed straight at them. “Figures - how we always manage to time these missions just right I will never know.”
Spotting a small cluster of trees about 50 meters ahead of them up the hill, John debated the various merits of either running for cover or trying to make it back down the research facility. More detonations could now be heard coming from that general direction and part of John’s brain wondered why the facility was being targeted rather than the far more populated city.
“Rodney!” he shouted aloud, turning in a circle one last time to see if he could see anything more. “You getting anything through the comms?” He heard Rodney try to contact Teyla and Ronon, but Rodney seemed to have no more success than John had.
“Right, we need to get to cover,” John decided as another explosion sounded, closely followed by the nauseating sound of a Wraith dart. As he turned to collect Rodney and head up to the cover of the trees, another explosion hit, this one close enough to make the ground beneath them shake violently. John managed to keep his footing, but when he looked up there was no sign of Rodney.
“Rodney!” John yelled, looking around frantically and mentally cursing his inactive radio. There was no sign of him anywhere. “Rodney!”
Another explosion, this one mere meters away from his position. The whine of darts was also louder now, but he still couldn’t see any. Shouting in frustration, John let a volley of bullets fly high into the air in the general direction of where the dart must have been to make the hit.
“Rodney!” he shouted again in desperation. He turned and ran as fast as he could in the direction of where he’d last seen Rodney.
John never knew what hit him; all of a sudden he saw a bright flash and felt a wave of pain pass through his body and then everything faded away into blackness.
****
John regained consciousness in an explosion of pain which threatened to crack his skull apart. After his first brief attempt at opening his eyes was met by nothing more than an exponential increase in the number of white hot needles which felt like they were trying to gouge their way into his brain, he immediately let them fall shut again. Taking a few deep breaths in an effort to calm himself, John managed to overcome his instinctive panic and tried once again. The pain was slightly more bearable this time round, and John blinked cautiously into the blackness, trying to clear his vision. Nothing. Even though he thought that his eyes were open, at least partially, he couldn’t make out a single detail of his surroundings. Feeling slightly sick, he realised that he was either in complete and total darkness or he had been blinded. Swallowing the renewed wave of fear prompted by the latter possibility, John attempted to forget his sight for the time being and concentrate on learning what he could from his other senses.
Despite listening carefully, John couldn’t hear the sound of anyone near him. Still, that didn’t mean that he was alone, only that he was unable to hear his captors above the sound of his pulse echoing loudly and painfully fast in his ears. With the possibility of his being watched in mind, he moved slowly to test out the rest of his physical condition. He was lying on a padded surface, a mat or pallet he guessed for it felt too hard to be a mattress. He arms were stretched out by his sides and when he tried to move them, he found that he was manacled in place by the wrists. Great, he thought to himself, so it seemed like it was his turn to be kidnapped this time around - he could have sworn it was Rodney’s go.
God, Rodney. And Ronon and Telya. Where were they? Had they managed to escape or were they in a similar situation to him?
Grateful for both his training and the years he’d already spent learning about the typical ‘hospitality’ of Pegasus, John managed to retain his calm and continued to assess his situation. After all, if he couldn’t help himself, he certainly wasn’t going to be in any fit state to help his team. Mentally working his way down his body, he discovered that in addition to the restraints on his arms, there was a tight band secured across his chest and his legs were also manacled to the surface on which he was lying. Apart from the ache in his head, his body felt like it had been through the wars as well, the muscles of his thighs and calves aching when he flexed them gently, suggesting that whatever had happened to him, he’d tried to outrun it. His arms also felt slightly fatigued, his right shoulder slightly more sore than his left, evidence that he’d fired his P-90 recently. Repeatedly by the feel of it.
A memory of what had happened would really be good right about now, John thought to himself. He recalled that his team had been on a trade mission, that he’d been with Rodney outside… somewhere, and then the distant sounds of weapons fire. If his headache had not been enough to confirm it, the obvious gaps in his memory obviously were, there had been an attack of some kind and he’d sustained a head injury at, the very least. He had a vague memory of the high-pitched whine of darts - a culling perhaps? Yet it didn’t feel like he was in a hive.
He tried to turn his head, moving gingerly, but soon discovered that it too was being held in place somehow. Although he couldn’t feel a strap or brace holding his head, he was nevertheless unable to turn in any direction. So, it would seem that things were entirely Not Good. He could hear and see nothing, his memories of the events leading up to this were decidedly patchy, and he was totally incapacitated. So far the only things that seemed even remotely positive was the fact that there was no sign that any of the other members of his team had been captured along with him and the fact that it didn’t feel like he was in a Wraith cocoon.
He tried to figure out what his next move should be, but his thoughts were turning sluggish now, his body no match for the cold which was seeping insidiously into every part of him. John tried desperately to hold onto consciousness, not wanting to succumb to a sleep from which he might never awaken. He forced himself to keep thinking, trying to keep active even though his body no longer responded to the impulses of his mind. He repeated his name, rank and serial number over and over again in his head and then started chanting the names of all the different crafts he had flown through the years to himself - anything that could help him hold on to reality. Too soon even that became too much as his synapses became even more sluggish. Atlantis, he thought desperately, that is what he needed to remember; Atlantis, his home, and Rodney, Ronon, Teyla, his family. However, he knew he was fighting a losing battle as his brain slowed even more, the last few vestiges of coherence slipping away from him. Rodney, he thought as his body finally succumbed; he had to have faith - it would be alright, Rodney would save him.
Darkness, silence, coldness, nothing.
~*~
Present Day
Rodney can feel the weight of Teyla and Ronon’s gaze on him as he skims through the readings of the EM and particle emissions the MALP has collected from the pulsar. He knows they’re confused - hell, he’s confused - but he also knows that there is something more to this data than it first appears. The odd mix of the pulsar’s particle flux is still in evidence and Rodney is now convinced that it must mean something.
“But what?” he asks aloud in exasperation. “What is going on with that damn star?”
“Star?” Teyla asks. “The pulsar, you mean?”
“Yes,” Rodney replies. “These readings, they’re… odd. The pulsar seems to be producing a very strange particle flux… It doesn’t make any sense. I can’t explain it.”
“You think it’s connected to Sheppard’s disappearance?” Ronon asks.
“It does seem to be an odd coincidence,” Teyla adds. “For John to disappear and for the pulsar to change at the same time. Perhaps they are related?”
“Well,” Ronon replies. “McKay seems to think they’re related, so I guess it’s worth a look.”
Rodney continues to frown down at the data readings as his team mates discuss the situation. The part of him which is still attending to their conversation can’t help but feel gratified at the obvious faith they have in his abilities and his instincts. Now he just has to prove himself worthy of them.
“Okay, okay,” he says, as much to himself as to Ronon and Teyla. “So what could be going on here? Why would the pulsar suddenly start emitting such a strange spectrum of particles?”
“Particles?” Teyla questions. “I thought it was radio waves that this pulsar emitted.”
“Oh, yes, it does that too,” he replies, trying to think of a way to explain. “But all stars also radiate particles - electrons, photons and the like, including radio waves.” He twirls a hand in the air to encompass the plethora of other sub-atomic particles. “But what’s odd here is the particular spectrum of energies I’m detecting…” He shakes his head and scowls at the readings. “It’s almost as if…” his voice trails off as he dredges his memory for the relevant bits of elementary particle physics that will hopefully enable him to work out just what the hell is going on.
Leaning back in his chair, Rodney pats his hands up and down his chest in search of a pen. Finding one stuck down in the inside pocket of his jacket, fortuitously alongside a small notepad, he draws both out and starts scribbling down the list of particles in the flux, muttering their names aloud as he does so. “Muons, pions, kaons, electrons, photons…” List completed, he stares down at the paper for a few seconds before lifting his gaze to stare out of the jumper’s viewscreen, not at the planet this time, but instead out into the blackness of the seemingly empty space.
“McKay?” This time it’s Ronon’s low tones which bring him back to himself.
“There’s something out there,” he says, staring out at the vacuum with dawning understanding. “There’s got to be - it’s the only explanation.”
“Like a ship?” Ronon asks, his excitement at the prospect evident in his voice. “You think they’ve got Sheppard on a ship?”
“Not a ship,” Rodney says, thoughts flying. “More like a… well, some sort of particle accelerator.” He shakes his head again; just as certain that the idea is quite clearly preposterous as he is that it really is the only logical explanation. “Trouble is, I’m sure Occam’s razor isn’t supposed to point to something quite this bizarre.”
“Rodney?”
Turning to face Teyla, Rodney waves his notepad at her. “I think there’s something out there that’s doing this.”
“Doing what?” Ronon asks.
“This!” Rodney says, shaking his pad at Ronon this time. “Causing the pulsar to behave like this. I know it sounds crazy, but really the only thing I can think of which would account for what I’m detecting would be if the pulsar was all of a sudden creating strange quarks.”
“Strange quarks?” Teyla asks. “They are particles themselves, are they not?”
“Yes,” Rodney replies, glancing at her in surprise that she would be aware of such a fact, but quickly suppressing it for discussion at a later time. “But they’re not something you’d expect to detect because they decay far too quickly. However, what you would expect to see if strange quarks were decaying is precisely what this pulsar is emitting.”
“And the detection of these strange things is important?” Ronon queries, rising from his seat to lean over the back of Teyla’s chair, presumably so he can get a better view of proceedings.
“They’re strange quarks,” Rodney corrects automatically. “And, yes, detecting them - or rather the particles into which they ultimately decay - is important… at least I think so. The fact that this pulsar seems to be producing them suggests that something is affecting the very composition of the star.”
Both Ronon and Teyla are looking at him now as if he’s gone completely mad. “Look,” Rodney tries again, with more urgency this time. “This isn’t a natural phenomenon - someone is doing this, causing this change.”
“The Catarans?” Teyla suggests.
“I don’t know,” Rodney replies. “I’d find it hard to believe that it’s their invention - I mean the level of technology we’re talking about here is just… well, immense. It’d probably be beyond our present capacity and well beyond that of the Catarans, I would have thought. To be honest, if I had to make a guess, I’d say the only people capable of building something capable of catalysing such a change would be the Ancients.”
“But there was no evidence of any Ancient presence on Catara,” Teyla says.
“Not on Catara, no,” Rodney agrees. “But, like I said, the only thing I can think of capable of altering the pulsar in this way would be some sort of particle accelerator. An Ancient particle accelerator which would have to be in orbit around the pulsar itself.”
“They have ships, though, don’t they,” Ronon says flatly. “Cataran spaceships, Ancient technology, and Sheppard’s gene.”
“Exactly,” Rodney says, impressed with Ronon’s insight as he’s only just coming to terms with the implications of the facts himself. He hears Teyla give a gasp of understanding as he turns back to his workstation and starts to run yet another sensor sweep, this time of the space around the pulsar rather than the planet. “His damn gene.”
~*~
Sometime Earlier
Cold, confusion, pain. He tried to move, but was somehow locked in place. Despite this, his body convulses every now and then completely beyond his control, his limbs jerking and twitching in his bonds as if electrical impulses were being funnelled directly into his muscle fibres. His head throbbed with painful intensity with each beat of his heart and his skin felt raw and hypersensitive, but at least his heart was still beating and his body, although of no use to him at the moment, was apparently still capable of sensation.
Everything was dark; he wasn’t even sure if his eyes were open or closed. His mind was no better - thoughts confused, memories blank, consciousness slipping.
Darkness, silence, coldness, nothing.
****
Awareness crept upon him gradually again, but little seemed to have changed. He was still unable to move, uncontrollable spasms still wracked his body every few minutes, and he was still confused and had no clear idea of where or even who he was. It felt like he was at the bottom of a deep sea trench, the cold water freezing his blood, the great pressure of many atmospheres leaving him immobile, the lack of oxygen dulling his mind and his senses. It was dark and cold and there was pain. That was the sum of his existence.
Suddenly something new happened; there came the sound of raised voices, the words unintelligible, but the tone nevertheless recognisable - angry, impatient, dangerous. The sounds echoed down towards him as if from a great distance, as if something was happening on the sunlit surface of the water and he could only sense the odd ripple of disturbance from his eerie half-life. Nevertheless, the new sensory inputs - almost too loud after what seemed like an eternity of nothingness - sparked a flash of something… a single word, a memory perhaps, or maybe even a prayer… Atlantis.
But consciousness was fleeting. All too soon the voices faded away and he was left lying in dark, cold silence once more. Thought faded.
Darkness, silence, coldness, nothing.
~*~
When I Sorrow Most pt. 5