If All Else Fails - Chapter 7
Chapter 7: Holding Pattern
“We had no idea how long it would take for the SGC personnel to arrive, or if they would arrive at all. We weren’t sure how they would get here, although the briefing I’d received indicated that they would have to find passage on a ship, or find a way to gate to from inside Pegasus. We couldn’t afford to worry about them, though. We had to focus on building a colony-building a whole new world.”
~Interview with Elizabeth Weir
“I’ve been thinking about it, and it’s just not possible, John.”
The worst part, John thought as he looked at the gate through her office window, was that Elizabeth was right. As much as he wanted to go spend two weeks with the Athosians, Atlantis couldn’t afford for him to be gone that long. And, as Elizabeth had pointed out, having two members of the command staff away from Atlantis at the same time wasn’t the smartest decision.
“One week,” John suggested. “I’ll go, and then McKay can go.”
“What about the Ebrus?” Elizabeth asked.
John sighed. “As much as I want a ZPM yesterday, I think it’s important to seal our agreement with the Athosians, and the Ebrus. Let’s show them both we can keep our promises, and maybe the Ebrus will feel better about letting us into their temple.”
“I agree,” Elizabeth said after a pause. “I’ll send a team with Carson. He can treat the Ebrus with the anti-malarial drugs as a good-faith gesture.”
“Send Lorne,” John suggested. “He’s usually stuck on survey and rescue missions, but he’s more than ready to spread his wings.”
“And you want to be sure he can step into your shoes.”
John snorted. “I’m not sure that I can step into these shoes. You know this wasn’t what I signed on for.”
“You had a chance to back out the last time we were on Earth,” Elizabeth replied, her expression serene. “Are you regretting your decision now?”
He plopped into the chair across from her desk. “No. No more than you are, anyway.”
Elizabeth made a face. “You know, if General O’Neill were sitting across from me right now, I’m not sure he’d make it out of this office in one piece.”
John chuckled, but he quickly grew serious. “There are risks I’m still going to have to take. I understand that things have to change, but-”
“No, I agree,” Elizabeth replied. “But Rodney is right, John. We can’t afford to lose you.”
John rubbed his eyes. “You’ve got Lorne. His gene is almost as strong as mine, and he’s nearly as adept at using the Ancient tech. Carson could even do in a pinch.”
“And neither of them are the military commander of this city.”
“I think I liked my job better when I was expendable,” he grumbled.
Elizabeth gave him a dirty look, clearly meant to discourage that kind of thinking. “Speaking of, would you like to explain just what is going on between you and Rodney?”
John waved away the question. “We’re fine.”
“John…”
“We’re fine,” he insisted. “Everybody’s reacting a little differently to the new circumstances. Rodney is going overboard about keeping everyone safe.”
Elizabeth appeared far from convinced, but she nodded, and John knew that she’d let it go for now.
At least until the next time Rodney started acting overprotective in the middle of a strategy meeting.
“Very well. Are you still leaving in an hour?”
“That’s the plan,” John replied. “I’ll break the news to McKay that he’s got another week on the city.”
“John, I am sorry. Maybe once some of the other SGC personnel arrive…”
John shook his head. “Let’s not go there, Elizabeth. You and I both know that if they do show up, we’re going to have to integrate them into the current command structure, and some of them are likely to be higher ranked than I am.”
“Our charter states very clearly that ranking goes to those who have been on Atlantis the longest.” Elizabeth’s smile was just a trifle smug. “So, it really doesn’t matter who shows up.”
John smiled. “Even General O’Neill?”
“Maybe especially O’Neill,” Elizabeth replied. “Check in every day?”
“Same goes for you,” he replied.
John found Rodney in his lab, berating one of his lesser minions while Zelenka watched on in amusement. John had seen it happen before; the minion-a Dr. Benet, if John remembered correctly-had probably done something incredibly stupid or foolhardy.
Probably both.
“Hey, Doc,” John greeted Zelenka. “How’s it going?”
“I am vastly entertained,” Zelenka said dryly. “Dr. Benet has been demonstrating how not to update our power outputs.”
“And how is that?” John asked lazily.
Zelenka raised an eyebrow, suggesting that John should have already known the answer. “Without asking myself or Dr. McKay, of course.”
“Get out of here,” Rodney ordered Benet. “Just remember, I’m going to be on the mainland for the next two weeks, and therefore incapable of correcting your gross errors.”
John cleared his throat. “Actually, I need to talk to you about that, McKay.”
“Dr. Benet and I were just leaving,” Zelenka said. “Excuse us.”
John thought he heard Zelenka’s low remonstrance as he ushered Benet out. She didn’t even glance at John as she passed, and John winced in sympathy. He could recall a few dressings-down that had probably stung as much as the one Rodney had just delivered.
“Okay, what is it?” Rodney demanded. “I’m very busy. We only have an hour until we leave, and-” He blinked. “Wait, Elizabeth actually talked you into it?”
“She talked to you first?”
“She asked for my help in convincing you to cut back the time to one week,” Rodney said slowly. “I told her she was on her own because I can’t convince you to do anything.”
John gave him a sour look. “Shit, Rodney. Do you have to make it that obvious? She already thinks we have a personal problem.”
“We don’t have a personal problem,” Rodney shot back. “Other than the fact that you have a deep desire to sacrifice yourself for the greater good.”
John was stung. “Every time I risk my life, it’s necessary, Rodney. It’s not like I want to die.”
“I know.” Rodney now just sounded tired. “What’s the plan?”
“One week for me, one week for you,” John replied. “I think Elizabeth would have asked us to make it shorter, but I’d already told Halling I wouldn’t ask our people to do anything I wasn’t willing to do.”
Rodney nodded. “That’s fair. Are you still taking Teyla and Ronon?”
“There’s nothing to say they can’t spend two weeks there,” John reminded him. “And I know Teyla was looking forward to it.”
“She was.” Rodney squared his shoulders. “Well, that just made my life considerably easier, but you’re leaving in less than an hour now. You’d better get going.”
John had no idea what to say. He felt strangely ambivalent about two weeks spent without Rodney. He’d been looking forward to the time with the Athosians, yes-but it was supposed to be time with Rodney, too.
“Hey, don’t have too much fun without me, huh?” he finally said, which was probably the lamest line ever.
Rodney must not have minded, because his expression softened, and the corners of his mouth turned up in a real smile. “I’ll try.”
John turned to leave, but Rodney’s voice stopped him. “Look, John-” he began, and then seemed to think better of it. “Take care of yourself.”
“I’ll try,” John promised. “See you in a week, McKay.”
John hated that it felt like goodbye.
~~~~~
Teyla didn’t have much to pack. She felt the flutter of excitement at the prospect of two weeks among her people, particularly since she would not have to question whether Atlantis would be harmed by her absence. For the first time in a long time, she did not feel torn between two worlds, two duties.
The knock on her door surprised her, and Teyla called out a welcome. When only silence followed, she half-turned to face Rodney, who hovered uncertainly in the entrance.
“Rodney? Shouldn’t you be packing?”
“I’m going over next week,” Rodney replied. “Elizabeth didn’t think it was a good idea for Sheppard and me to be off the city at the same time for so long.”
Teyla grimaced. She hadn’t thought of that particular problem, although she probably should have. The Athosians didn’t have the traditional command structures that the Lanteans did, but her people were careful to split the care of the elders among family groups, careful so that not all of the elders and leaders of the Athosians would be taken at once in a culling.
So far, they had always been successful.
“I see. Does John want Ronon or me to stay behind this week, too?”
Rodney shook his head emphatically. “No, no, nothing like that. He thought you guys would want to stay with the Athosians for the full two weeks.”
Teyla nodded. “Forgive me for any rudeness, Rodney, but why are you here?”
“I need to ask your advice,” Rodney blurted out. “It’s about Sheppard.”
Teyla knew her time was growing short, and she hated to be late. “I would be happy to help, but-”
“Right, there isn’t time.” Rodney appeared absolutely miserable. “I’ll talk to you next week.”
“If you could give me an idea what the problem is, I could think about it this week, and next week we could talk in more detail,” Teyla suggested, wanting to offer him something.
“I’m interested in John, and I know he’s interested in me, but when I suggested…” Rodney flushed a deep red and trailed off. “You know what, forget it.”
Teyla frowned. “Do you want a relationship with him beyond friendship?”
“Yes. I just-I’m afraid I ruined my chance to ask.”
Teyla thought for a moment, and decided that without knowing more about the situation she couldn’t very well give advice. She might, however, offer an observation of John’s character and hope Rodney worked out his next step on his own.
“John seems to appreciate actions more than words,” she said. “Perhaps you should try showing him how you feel.”
Rodney frowned, opened his mouth-probably to argue-and then shut it abruptly. “That’s…a good idea.”
Teyla smiled. Rodney really could be tactless, but she always knew where she stood with him. “I do have them occasionally.”
“Oh! I didn’t mean to imply that-I just-thank you,” he finally said. “It’s a good idea.”
“I hope you can put it to good use,” Teyla replied. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to be late if I don’t leave right this moment.”
“Of course.” Rodney followed her out of the room. “Have a good week, Teyla.”
Teyla pulled Rodney’s forehead to her own, feeling as though he needed the physical gesture.
While Teyla was not late reaching the jumpers, she was the last to arrive, murmuring an apology to the four Marines in the back of John’s jumper. She stowed her gear, taking her traditional seat behind him. Corporal Barnes sat in the co-pilot’s chair, looking supremely uncomfortable to be sitting next to his commanding officer.
“Glad you could make it, Teyla,” John said, with a smile that took out any potential sting.
“Something came up rather suddenly,” she replied. “But I’m here now.”
“Let’s get underway. Barnes, you take us up.”
Teyla could hear his audible gulp, and she exchanged an amused look with Ronon, who had the seat behind Barnes. “Yes, sir,” Barnes said.
The takeoff, while not as smooth as John’s, was not as bad as it could have been for someone with so little training.
“Good,” John said. He didn’t hesitate to offer praise where it was due, at least for those under his command. “Now let’s see if you can fly it in a straight line.”
Ronon smirked, and Teyla leaned back in her seat, content to watch John instruct Barnes in the finer points of piloting a jumper. By the time Barnes landed, he’d relaxed considerably. Teyla thought that by the time the week was out, John would have convinced Barnes he was worthy of respect, and Barnes would follow John into a hive ship, just like all of the other military personnel on Atlantis.
“Good landing,” John said. “Well done, Corporal.”
“Thank you, sir,” Barnes said, flushing with pride.
Teyla allowed the four Marines in the cargo area to disembark first. She caught sight of Major Lorne immediately. He looked tanned and fit, wearing a grubby white t-shirt and loose trousers that Teyla thought had probably belonged to one of her people.
As John might say, Major Lorne had gone native.
“Good to see you, sir,” Lorne said as soon as John emerged from the jumper.
“You’re out of uniform, Lorne,” John observed, although his grin suggested that he didn’t care.
“Yes, sir,” Lorne replied. “No offense, sir, but black is too hot to wear in the middle of the fields.”
John waved off the explanation. “Lorne, I don’t care what you wear as long as you get the job done.”
Lorne moved closer, speaking in low tones. Teyla started to approach in order to overhear their conversation, but Halling approached her with his hands outstretched. “Teyla.”
“It’s a pleasure to see you,” Teyla said, turning her attention to Halling. “Have the Lanteans been of help?”
“More than I’d hoped,” Halling confessed with a conspiratorial smile. “We have formed close connections these last two weeks.”
“I’m glad to hear that,” Teyla said. “I’d worried.”
“As had I,” Halling replied. “But if we continue on in this vein, we will have enough food for our people and theirs for the next year.”
“That is good news.” She glanced over to see Lorne taking a step back from John, apparently responding to a call from one of her people. As he approached, Teyla recognized Laro, whom she hadn’t seen for months now. “Very close connections?” Teyla asked in a murmur as Laro pressed a wrapped object into Lorne’s hands.
Halling smiled. “You could say that. Laro has not expressed an interest in anything but his art in a very long time.”
“So I’ve noticed,” Teyla replied, watching as Lorne blushed and accepted the gift. “How long has this been going on?”
“Laro has been giving Major Lorne lessons this last week. I imagine that we can expect him to ask Colonel Sheppard for permissions to visit Atlantis.”
“John is only staying for the first week,” Teyla informed him. “Elizabeth believed it too dangerous to leave Atlantis without its military commander or its chief of sciences for any longer.”
Halling nodded. “I had wondered. You and I both know the heavy burden a leader must bear.”
“I do,” Teyla agreed. She turned to smile at John as he strolled up to greet Halling.
“I’m sure Teyla already told you that I can’t stay more than a week,” John said. “Sorry about that.”
“I understand,” Halling assured him.
John nodded at Lorne and Laro, who were still saying their goodbyes. “Anything I should worry about?”
“Laro is a master craftsman, and he’s unattached,” Halling replied. “Many in his family have been culled, and he keeps to himself. His work is highly prized, and provides valuable trade goods for us.”
John nodded, making a noncommittal sound.
“The items that Laro makes are both beautiful and very valuable,” Teyla said.
“Seems like making pottery takes a knack,” John observed.
Teyla smiled. “It does, and Laro is not known for wasting his time.”
“I’m told that Major Lorne has picked things up quickly,” Halling said.
Lorne joined them, the item tucked under his arm still in its wrapping. He was flushed, a pleased smile on his lips. “If you don’t need me for anything else, Colonel, I’ll finish loading my things.”
“Don’t keep us in suspense, Major,” John drawled. “Let’s see what you’ve got there.”
Lorne flushed a deeper shade of red. “Uh…yes, sir.”
Teyla recognized the distinctive lines of one of Laro’s bowls, one that would fetch quite a price in trade. “That is a great gift, Major.”
“I’m aware.” Lorne tried-and failed-to suppress a grin. “He does amazing work.”
“He does,” Halling agreed.
Lorne glanced at John. “Sir, if you don’t need me-”
“Go,” John said. “And I’ll expect you to pilot the jumper bringing the next team next week, Major.”
“Yes, sir,” Lorne said, keeping a straight face.
Teyla looked over at John as Lorne jogged off. “That was kind, John.”
“Hey, somebody ought to be getting some action,” John replied, his tone slightly sour.
Teyla exchanged a look with Halling and decided not to press the matter. She suspected that it had something to do with Rodney’s last minute request for advice, but Teyla wasn’t about to get in the middle.
“And if Laro asks to visit Atlantis?” Halling asked.
John shrugged. “I don’t see where the harm would be in a visit.”
“No harm at all,” Halling replied.
Teyla felt a thrum of contentment as she settled into one of the tents that had been set aside for the Lanteans. Before Charin’s death, Teyla had stayed in her tent when visiting, and since then, there had been others who were more than willing to share space. Now that the Athosians had a permanent arrangement with the Lanteans, two tents had been reserved for those who stayed on the mainland.
Although Teyla knew the Lanteans would likely have chosen to arrange sleeping quarters along gender lines, her people formed family groups, and John had decreed that teams would share a tent in keeping with local custom.
Teyla sensed that John was trying to encourage those on Atlantis to do as he had done-to find family among team members, and she approved. In fact, the only thing preventing Teyla from being perfectly happy was Rodney’s absence, and she suspected John and Ronon felt much the same way.
And, while she understood why John and Elizabeth had decided to split up the team for these two weeks, she feared that it was a harbinger of things to come. There might come a time when Elizabeth determined that she could not risk both Rodney and John on the same mission.
Still, even with Rodney’s absence, Teyla thought that being back among her people for two weeks was a little like pulling on her favorite pair of pants, the ones that fit her like a second skin, and were worn in all the right places. Sitting down to dinner at Halling’s fire, with a tankard of Varani ale, Teyla felt at ease, in a way she had not since giving up her place as leader to Halling.
Teyla mourned on her friends’ behalf, and for the loss of a world she’d seen only through John’s eyes, but she couldn’t regret the closer ties that had been forged between her people and the Lanteans.
Jinto sat between John and Ronon, looking from one to the other with hero-worship in his eyes, and although the boy behaved himself, Teyla could see Jinto vibrating with questions.
John had always been good with children, and halfway through the meal, he nudged Jinto with his elbow. “Go ahead and ask,” John whispered conspiratorially.
Jinto immediately turned to Ronon. “Is it true you’ve killed a million Wraith?”
Ronon’s lips twitched. “Not that many.”
“Can I see your gun?” Jinto asked.
Ronon glanced at Halling for approval and received a brief nod in reply. “Look, but don’t touch.”
Jinto stared at Ronon’s weapon with the same avarice John sometimes displayed, his blue eyes wide. “May I see your sword?”
“Jinto-” Halling began, a warning in his voice, but Ronon waved him off.
“It’s fine,” Ronon said. “I was curious at his age, too.”
Teyla glanced at John, seeing a heightened interest on his face. Ronon didn’t speak of his past. He made oblique references to his time as a runner on occasion, but he rarely talked about Sateda. Ronon’s life before the Wraith had been destroyed, and his world remained a mystery.
Jinto stared at Ronon’s blade with the same wide-eyed wonder, and cautiously asked, “How did you learn to use such weapons?”
“The military,” Ronon replied briefly.
Jinto opened his mouth to ask another question, and Halling said again, “Jinto.”
This time, Jinto heeded the warning and subsided. Teyla turned the conversation to safer subjects, mostly gossip about various Athosians and their kin, as well as a few off-world contacts Halling had seen more recently than she had.
Their pleasant conversation was interrupted by the arrival of Corporal Barnes and two of the Athosians Teyla had recommended as guides. “There’s a knife-throwing contest, sir,” Barnes said. “We thought Ronon might want to know.”
Ronon glanced over at John, who shrugged. “Up to you, Chewie.”
Ronon’s answering grin was fierce. “Coming, Sheppard?”
“Don’t mind if I do,” John replied, getting to his feet with an easy grace.
Jinto sent a pleading look Halling’s way. “Father? May I?”
“If you don’t mind, I can keep an eye on him,” John promised.
Halling nodded. “Go on, but remember that you still have chores tomorrow, Jinto.”
Jinto rolled his eyes, but dutifully said, “Yes, Father,” and John draped an arm over the boy’s shoulders.
“Ronon’s going to kick some butt,” John predicted as they headed away from Halling’s tent.
The sun hung low in the sky, but there was just enough light to allow for such displays of skill. Teyla could hear laughter and conversation, the joyful sounds of a secure people. It had been a long time since she’d witnessed such a gathering.
“They will remember tomorrow why it is unwise to drink ruus wine, except at festivals,” Halling predicted.
Teyla smiled. “They are young, and will recover much more quickly than either of us would.” She hesitated and said, “Jinto has grown.”
“Sometimes, when I wake in the night, I look over at him and think that I can see him getting bigger,” Halling admitted. After a pause, he added, “He wants to be a warrior, and he is at an age where he does not think much of his father.”
“I seem to recall that you went through such a phase,” Teyla replied with a smile.
Halling chuckled. “I did, but it’s easy to forget.”
“I will have a word with John,” Teyla promised. “Perhaps he can sing the praises of farmers.”
Halling shook his head. “Jinto will have to learn a warrior’s ways. I would prefer that he learn how to fight from someone I trust.”
Teyla belatedly realized what Halling meant. “You wish me to teach him?”
“He’s been playing Wraith and hunter since he was small,” Halling replied. “And he wishes to learn how to fight. If you would teach him how to use the bantos, I could console myself that at least he is learning the ways of our people.”
Teyla nodded. “I would be honored to give Jinto lessons as I am able.”
“Only as you are able,” Halling replied. “And please, do not go easy on him. I trust you to teach him that the warrior’s path is not only about glory, but also about pain.”
“Pain, and the acceptance of suffering,” Teyla agreed. “Perhaps Jinto will turn from the path as he learns that lesson.”
Halling sighed. “Perhaps, though I wish all of our people could forgo such lessons, Teyla.”
“The Lanteans offer our best chance for such a hope,” Teyla pointed out, long used to bridging the gap between the two worlds.
Halling nodded. “And that is why I didn’t hesitate to create a deeper bond between our peoples. It’s to their credit that they are willing to stay and fight the Wraith with us, rather than going back to their home.”
“It is,” Teyla agreed. “But this is their home.”
“And now that our peoples are more tightly knitted together, what will you do?” Halling asked. “Will you come back to us?”
“I have a family on Atlantis, Halling. I believe I may serve our people there better than I would here.”
“I agree,” Halling said. “But I had to ask.”
Teyla inclined her head. “I understand.”
The silence that fell between them was not uncomfortable. They had known each other too long for that, and even when they didn’t see eye to eye, there was a level of understanding that eased Teyla’s heart.
And yes, she would likely be happy to return to Atlantis in two weeks, but she was content to be here at the moment.
~~~~~
Evan grinned as he stepped off the jumper to see Radek waiting. Radek had a tablet in hand, and he appeared to be in the process of going over the docked jumpers, but Evan knew that if he’d truly been engaged in his task, Radek wouldn’t have watched the team disembark.
With his duffel over one shoulder, and Laro’s bowl tucked under his opposite arm, Evan jogged over to say hello. Radek’s sharp blue eyes peered out from behind smudged lenses. “What do you have there, Major?” he asked.
Evan tried to fight the blush, but it was a lost cause. “Uh, Laro-one of the Athosians-gave it to me.”
“The workmanship is exquisite,” Radek noted when Evan removed the wrapping to show off his gift.
“He gave me a few lessons.”
“You are a Renaissance man, then,” Radek suggested, his tone gently mocking. “You paint, you make pots, you play chess. Is there anything you cannot do?”
Evan grinned. “I can’t cook to save my life.”
“And thus you are saved from boring perfection,” Radek teased.
Evan shrugged. “Thank God.”
“You will play chess with me tonight?”
“I will,” Evan promised. “I’ve missed it.”
Radek smiled. “As have I.”
“Major Lorne!” Dr. Weir called as she approached. “Go get checked out, and then join me in the conference room for a debriefing.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he replied, nodding at Radek.
Evan swung by his quarters to drop his things off, and then headed for the infirmary. Dr. Beckett waved him to one of the empty beds. Although everybody who’d spent the last two weeks with the Athosians were scattered around the infirmary, Evan couldn’t see any other patients.
“Seems like you’ve had a couple of quiet weeks,” Evan said when Beckett showed up to draw a sample of blood.
Beckett glared at him. “You’re going to jinx us with talk like that, lad.”
“Sorry,” Evan said immediately. “But aren’t we due for an emergency soon?”
“Let’s hope we can avoid it,” Beckett said grimly. “We still have the Wraith to worry about. I haven’t forgotten.”
“Nobody’s forgotten about it,” Evan assured him.
Beckett shook his head. “Of course you have. We live in the moment, Major. What other choice do we have?”
“That doesn’t mean we can’t plan ahead,” Evan objected, although he knew there wasn’t much they could do to plan. Almost everything they did was reactive; that was just the nature of the game.
Beckett patted him on the shoulder. “You’re cleared, Major. It looks like your time with the Athosians was good for you.”
“They’re an amazing people,” Evan replied with complete sincerity.
Beckett smiled. “Aye. They’re lovely. Off with you now.”
Evan had just enough time to shower and change into a clean uniform before meeting Dr. Weir in the conference room. Dr. McKay entered shortly after he did, still typing away on his tablet. Dr. Beckett hurried inside, and Stackhouse and Cadman dropped into the seats on either side of Lorne.
“I’d like a report on your time on the mainland as soon as you can get to it,” Dr. Weir said. “And I’ve heard from the Ebrus. They’ve had an outbreak of what they call the planting sickness and have requested our help. Dr. Beckett is leaving tomorrow morning, and I want you to accompany him, Major.”
Evan nodded. “Of course. What if they ask about Colonel Sheppard?”
“Tell them we want to prove our trustworthiness before we try to gain access to their temple, and Colonel Sheppard is currently fulfilling a promise made to our allies.”
It was the kind of diplomatic response Evan had come to expect from Dr. Weir, and while he could employ that sort of tact, he hadn’t had much experience. Since coming to Atlantis, Evan had executed a hell of a lot of search and rescue missions, but first contacts generally went to Sheppard’s team.
“Anything else I should know?” Evan asked.
“We’ll want to identify the source of the illness,” Dr. Beckett said. “We don’t currently have an entomologist, but Dr. Parrish has some knowledge that might be helpful.”
Dr. Weir nodded. “Take Dr. Parrish, then. Anyone else?”
Evan considered the question. “Cadman and Reeves, just in case. They’re both handy in a fight, and they know how to keep their mouths shut.” He carefully didn’t look at Cadman when he said it, but he caught her grin out of the corner of his eye.
“Agreed,” Elizabeth said. “Reeves has some training as a medic, doesn’t he?”
Evan nodded. “He did. It was one of the reasons he was chosen to come to Atlantis, along with his gene, and pilot’s training.”
“Good, he can assist Dr. Beckett and his people,” Dr. Weir stated. “You leave at 0800 tomorrow, so get some rest.”
Cadman and Stackhouse fell in on either side of Evan as he left the conference room. “So, how was it, sir?” Cadman asked.
“How was what?” Evan asked, playing dumb.
Cadman gave him a look that said she knew he was messing with her. “I’m going in two weeks,” she pointed out. “And Stackhouse has the shift after me. We’d like to know what to expect.”
“You’ll have access to my report after I’ve given a copy to Dr. Weir,” Evan replied, heading for his office.
Cadman didn’t wait for an invitation; she dropped into a chair across from his desk. Not for the first time, Evan thought that Cadman’s expertise with explosives probably allowed her to get away with a lot.
Either that, or being on Atlantis had given her freer rein.
Stackhouse was a little more circumspect, hovering uncertainly next to the door.
“Come in,” Evan sighed. “You’ve both had dealings with the Athosians. They’re gracious hosts.”
Stackhouse sat down in the other chair. “Yes, sir, but it’s a little different now.”
Evan was about to say that they’d be with their teams, and then he remembered that they were both floaters, meaning that they didn’t have a permanent team. He quickly pulled up the roster for assignments and said, “The food is good, and they’ve got two tents set aside for us. You can split up quarters however you want, although the colonel suggested dividing them between teams. It’s hard work, but it’s not unpleasant. You’ll be fine.”
“I blow things up,” Cadman pointed out. “I joined the Marines so I didn’t have to be a farmer.”
“Maybe they’ll find something for you to blow up,” Evan suggested. “I don’t need to remind you how important this alliance is, Lieutenant. We need supplies, and the Athosians have offered us a close alliance and a low-risk way of getting those supplies.”
“I get the importance, sir,” Cadman assured him. “No way am I going to screw it up.”
“I’m not worried that you will,” Evan replied. “Anybody we couldn’t trust didn’t make it on the rotation. Don’t worry about it. You’ll have fun.”
“Like you did?” Cadman asked. “Scuttlebutt says you made a friend.”
Evan just managed to keep a straight face, and to keep the blush from creeping up his neck. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Sure,” Cadman drawled. “Just so you know, and based on your example, I’m hoping to meet a gorgeous guy and live happily ever after.”
“Get out of here,” Evan growled. “Both of you.”
Cadman grinned at him cheekily, but Stackhouse didn’t hesitate to rise to his feet. “Thank you for your time, sir,” he said.
Cadman glared at Stackhouse but said, “Thank you, sir.”
“I have a report to write,” Lorne said. “I’m sure you both have things to do.”
“Sir, yes, sir,” Cadman shot back.
Evan shook his head. Cadman had a point about his report; reports always contained the bare bones and little more. The scuttlebutt generally contained the juicier details, which made its way through Atlantis like wildfire.
He couldn’t blame Cadman and Stackhouse for wanting the inside scoop. Evan probably would have cornered Sheppard for details if the colonel had won the coin toss.
Evan finished his report in short order and sent it on to Elizabeth. Radek was already in the mess by the time Evan arrived for dinner, and he quickly filled his tray and joined his friend.
“I hear you have a mission tomorrow,” Radek said as Evan sat down across from him.
Evan shrugged. “It will have to be a short game tonight, I’m afraid.”
“And that is different from another night, how?” Radek asked with a wicked glint in his eye.
Evan couldn’t suppress his grin. “I’ll beat you one of these days, old man.”
Radek’s eyes twinkled merrily. “Ah, but with age comes wisdom, my friend. Now, tell me about the friend you made with the Athosians.”
Evan shook his head. “How did you hear about that?”
“This is Atlantis,” Radek reminded him. “Gossip is an art form.”
Evan shrugged. “I guess so.”
“So?”
Evan smiled. “His name is Laro.”
“This I already knew,” Radek replied. “Tell me something I don’t know.”
Evan hesitated briefly. He’d been hiding in plain sight for so long, it felt strange to be open about his relationship-or proto-relationship-now. And yet, there was no censure in Radek’s eyes, only a gentle concern.
He appreciated that he could be honest with Radek.
“He’s going to ask for permission to visit Atlantis for a few weeks,” Evan offered.
Radek smiled. “Now, that’s a good start.”
~~~~~
Elizabeth hated waiting. She’d grown used to it since coming to Atlantis; as the expedition head, she couldn’t go haring off whenever she’d like. When she did leave the city, it was generally because her expertise was needed, and no one else would do.
But now… There was no one else to take her place if she were killed off-world. There was John, of course, and he’d do a fine job, but Elizabeth also knew that he didn’t want the position. Rodney could handle it in a pinch, but there weren’t many others.
In time, maybe, other teams from the SGC would make their way to Atlantis, and there would be other senior officers who could take their places if necessary. But until then, Elizabeth would be forced to wait and watch, to stay on Atlantis, even though she wanted to spend time with the Ebrus and the Athosians, to cement old alliances and make new ones.
That’s what she’d come to Pegasus to do, after all. She hadn’t known that her position would make it harder, not easier, to accomplish her goals.
The alarms for a gate activation sounded, and Elizabeth made her way from her office to the control room. Chuck’s fingers flew over the touch pad as the wormhole whooshed to life. “It’s Major Lorne’s IDC, ma’am,” he said.
“Lower the shield,” she ordered. Lorne was right on time, and she felt herself relax ever so slightly.
Lorne stepped through the gate first, raising a hand in greeting and reassurance. The rest of the team followed close behind, no one looking the worse for wear. Carson waved to her as well, offering a reassuring smile.
Elizabeth headed down the stairs. “I take it there weren’t any problems?”
Carson shook his head. “The Ebrus are quite hospitable, Dr. Weir, and were very grateful for our assistance.”
“You discovered what was causing the illness?” she asked, glancing over at Dr. Parrish.
Parrish shrugged his narrow shoulders. “I believe we’ve discovered the insect responsible. As we suspected, it’s similar to the Earth mosquito, and we’re going to attempt to come up with a way to stop its breeding without a negative effect on the ecosystem.”
“Good work,” Elizabeth replied. “Carson?”
“It’s similar enough to malaria to make it easier to devise a treatment. We took along plenty of mosquito netting, and that should make an impact in the spread.” He shrugged. “Otherwise, it’s just a matter of treating symptoms.”
Elizabeth looked at Lorne. “Did they ask about Colonel Sheppard?”
“They did, but I explained the circumstances. Brista seemed relieved that we weren’t too eager to gain access to the ruins. They’re expecting the colonel’s arrival next week, though.”
“Good. We’ll plan on that. Well done, people,” Elizabeth called out. “Get checked out, and then enjoy your evening off.”
Carson and Lorne followed Elizabeth to her office, as she’d half-expected. “What else do you have for me?” she asked as the door slid shut behind them.
“They’re a fundamentally peaceful people,” Carson said slowly, his Scottish brogue thick. “They welcomed us with open arms.”
“And their response to Colonel Sheppard’s absence?” Elizabeth queried, wanting more details.
Lorne shook his head. “They seemed pleased, to be honest. Brista appeared to be gratified that we were willing to help, even without gaining access to the temple. It was a good call.”
“Thank you,” Elizabeth replied. “Anything else I need to know?”
“We were able to discover a little more about the purification ritual,” Lorne replied. “They require a fast, and a hike to the sacred temple without weapons or shoes. It’s a symbolic gesture, but it’s nothing too arduous.”
“I understand,” Elizabeth replied. “Did you discover any more information about whether the ritual can be aborted?”
Carson shook his head. “Nothing from my end.”
“Brista reiterated that no one had ever died as a result of the ritual,” Lorne replied. “My understanding is that Colonel Sheppard can abort at any time.”
“That’s good to know,” Elizabeth replied. “Enjoy your evening, gentlemen.”
They left her with her thoughts, and acting on impulse, Elizabeth called down to Chuck. “Begin scanning all channels, Chuck. I want to be sure that we don’t miss any messages from SGC teams.”
“You got it, Dr. Weir.”
Elizabeth missed Teyla and Ronon. She missed John, too, and while she’d ordered daily check-ins for each team spending time on the mainland, it wasn’t the same.
Still, there were only a couple of hours until John was due to check in, so it behooved Elizabeth to stay in her office.
When John’s call did come in, Elizabeth answered immediately. “How are you?”
“We’re good,” John assured her. “The crops are in the ground, and they’re looking forward to Rodney’s help with the irrigation next week, but we’ve got enough to keep us busy until then.”
“That’s good to hear,” Elizabeth replied.
“Wasn’t Lorne going to spend time with the Ebrus today?” John asked.
Elizabeth quickly filled him in, and added, “They’re expecting you next week.” She gave him a run-down of what Lorne had said about the ritual. “You don’t have to do this, you know.”
“It’s the principle of the thing,” John replied. “I can’t ask anybody to do what I won’t. Tell you what, though. If we get another chance like this, I’ll let someone else do it.”
Elizabeth can’t fault his sense of honor. “You’re on.”
“Talk to you tomorrow,” John promised.
“You’d better.”
When Elizabeth finished up for the day, she headed for the cafeteria. She had planned on eating alone, but when Zelenka waved her over, Elizabeth joined him and Major Lorne.
“I hear that we have a source of cloth,” Zelenka said. “Congratulations.”
Lorne gave him a hard look. “It’s not as simple as that.”
“It never is,” Elizabeth observed, beginning to dig in to the mystery casserole.
Lorne sighed. “I’ve included this in my report, but black is not a color the Ebrus embrace.”
“But they can provide it,” Zelenka inserted.
“No, but they can do something close to charcoal gray.” Lorne shrugged. “From what Brista said, a true black is nearly impossible to dye. The closest they can come is a charcoal gray, which occurs naturally in the fleece of the orkna they breed.”
“I think we can get by without a true black,” Elizabeth replied. “We’ll utilize whatever cloth we can get.”
“Good luck with that, ma’am,” Lorne muttered.
Elizabeth raised her eyebrows. “Do you think it’s going to be a problem, Major?”
“You know how Colonel Sheppard feels about black,” Lorne replied.
Elizabeth sighed. “Then he’ll just have to get used to the idea,” Elizabeth replied. “If charcoal gray is the best we can do, then that’s what we’ll use. End of story.”
“If you say so, ma’am,” Lorne replied with a wry twist of his mouth.
Elizabeth could appreciate Lorne’s sense of humor; Colonel Sheppard tended to wear a lot of black. “Colonel Sheppard’s fashion choices aside, will we have enough cloth for the entire expedition?”
Lorne shook his head. “There’s no way, especially given how hard we are on uniforms.”
“Any suggestions?” Elizabeth asked.
Lorne glanced at Zelenka, who shrugged. “We could use more durable materials.”
“Outfitting the entire expedition in leather seems a little much,” Elizabeth objected.
Lorne frowned thoughtfully. “It’s not a bad idea, though, at least for off-world missions. We won’t have to worry about it for a while, but it’s going to become an issue. I doubt there’s a trading partner we could find who could fully supply our needs.”
“I’ll take it under consideration,” Elizabeth said. “I’m hesitant to make any decision that results in us looking like a bunch of space pirates.”
Lorne smirked, and Zelenka snorted. “As long as we don’t make eye patches part of the uniform, I think we can avoid it,” Lorne replied cheerfully.
“I’ll try to resist,” Elizabeth said dryly.
Zelenka asked Lorne a question about his time with the Athosians, neatly changing the subject. Elizabeth tucked into her meal, letting the conversation wash over her, grateful for the company, which served as a distraction from her own melancholy thoughts.
Chapter 8
“We had no idea how long it would take for the SGC personnel to arrive, or if they would arrive at all. We weren’t sure how they would get here, although the briefing I’d received indicated that they would have to find passage on a ship, or find a way to gate to from inside Pegasus. We couldn’t afford to worry about them, though. We had to focus on building a colony-building a whole new world.”
~Interview with Elizabeth Weir
“I’ve been thinking about it, and it’s just not possible, John.”
The worst part, John thought as he looked at the gate through her office window, was that Elizabeth was right. As much as he wanted to go spend two weeks with the Athosians, Atlantis couldn’t afford for him to be gone that long. And, as Elizabeth had pointed out, having two members of the command staff away from Atlantis at the same time wasn’t the smartest decision.
“One week,” John suggested. “I’ll go, and then McKay can go.”
“What about the Ebrus?” Elizabeth asked.
John sighed. “As much as I want a ZPM yesterday, I think it’s important to seal our agreement with the Athosians, and the Ebrus. Let’s show them both we can keep our promises, and maybe the Ebrus will feel better about letting us into their temple.”
“I agree,” Elizabeth said after a pause. “I’ll send a team with Carson. He can treat the Ebrus with the anti-malarial drugs as a good-faith gesture.”
“Send Lorne,” John suggested. “He’s usually stuck on survey and rescue missions, but he’s more than ready to spread his wings.”
“And you want to be sure he can step into your shoes.”
John snorted. “I’m not sure that I can step into these shoes. You know this wasn’t what I signed on for.”
“You had a chance to back out the last time we were on Earth,” Elizabeth replied, her expression serene. “Are you regretting your decision now?”
He plopped into the chair across from her desk. “No. No more than you are, anyway.”
Elizabeth made a face. “You know, if General O’Neill were sitting across from me right now, I’m not sure he’d make it out of this office in one piece.”
John chuckled, but he quickly grew serious. “There are risks I’m still going to have to take. I understand that things have to change, but-”
“No, I agree,” Elizabeth replied. “But Rodney is right, John. We can’t afford to lose you.”
John rubbed his eyes. “You’ve got Lorne. His gene is almost as strong as mine, and he’s nearly as adept at using the Ancient tech. Carson could even do in a pinch.”
“And neither of them are the military commander of this city.”
“I think I liked my job better when I was expendable,” he grumbled.
Elizabeth gave him a dirty look, clearly meant to discourage that kind of thinking. “Speaking of, would you like to explain just what is going on between you and Rodney?”
John waved away the question. “We’re fine.”
“John…”
“We’re fine,” he insisted. “Everybody’s reacting a little differently to the new circumstances. Rodney is going overboard about keeping everyone safe.”
Elizabeth appeared far from convinced, but she nodded, and John knew that she’d let it go for now.
At least until the next time Rodney started acting overprotective in the middle of a strategy meeting.
“Very well. Are you still leaving in an hour?”
“That’s the plan,” John replied. “I’ll break the news to McKay that he’s got another week on the city.”
“John, I am sorry. Maybe once some of the other SGC personnel arrive…”
John shook his head. “Let’s not go there, Elizabeth. You and I both know that if they do show up, we’re going to have to integrate them into the current command structure, and some of them are likely to be higher ranked than I am.”
“Our charter states very clearly that ranking goes to those who have been on Atlantis the longest.” Elizabeth’s smile was just a trifle smug. “So, it really doesn’t matter who shows up.”
John smiled. “Even General O’Neill?”
“Maybe especially O’Neill,” Elizabeth replied. “Check in every day?”
“Same goes for you,” he replied.
John found Rodney in his lab, berating one of his lesser minions while Zelenka watched on in amusement. John had seen it happen before; the minion-a Dr. Benet, if John remembered correctly-had probably done something incredibly stupid or foolhardy.
Probably both.
“Hey, Doc,” John greeted Zelenka. “How’s it going?”
“I am vastly entertained,” Zelenka said dryly. “Dr. Benet has been demonstrating how not to update our power outputs.”
“And how is that?” John asked lazily.
Zelenka raised an eyebrow, suggesting that John should have already known the answer. “Without asking myself or Dr. McKay, of course.”
“Get out of here,” Rodney ordered Benet. “Just remember, I’m going to be on the mainland for the next two weeks, and therefore incapable of correcting your gross errors.”
John cleared his throat. “Actually, I need to talk to you about that, McKay.”
“Dr. Benet and I were just leaving,” Zelenka said. “Excuse us.”
John thought he heard Zelenka’s low remonstrance as he ushered Benet out. She didn’t even glance at John as she passed, and John winced in sympathy. He could recall a few dressings-down that had probably stung as much as the one Rodney had just delivered.
“Okay, what is it?” Rodney demanded. “I’m very busy. We only have an hour until we leave, and-” He blinked. “Wait, Elizabeth actually talked you into it?”
“She talked to you first?”
“She asked for my help in convincing you to cut back the time to one week,” Rodney said slowly. “I told her she was on her own because I can’t convince you to do anything.”
John gave him a sour look. “Shit, Rodney. Do you have to make it that obvious? She already thinks we have a personal problem.”
“We don’t have a personal problem,” Rodney shot back. “Other than the fact that you have a deep desire to sacrifice yourself for the greater good.”
John was stung. “Every time I risk my life, it’s necessary, Rodney. It’s not like I want to die.”
“I know.” Rodney now just sounded tired. “What’s the plan?”
“One week for me, one week for you,” John replied. “I think Elizabeth would have asked us to make it shorter, but I’d already told Halling I wouldn’t ask our people to do anything I wasn’t willing to do.”
Rodney nodded. “That’s fair. Are you still taking Teyla and Ronon?”
“There’s nothing to say they can’t spend two weeks there,” John reminded him. “And I know Teyla was looking forward to it.”
“She was.” Rodney squared his shoulders. “Well, that just made my life considerably easier, but you’re leaving in less than an hour now. You’d better get going.”
John had no idea what to say. He felt strangely ambivalent about two weeks spent without Rodney. He’d been looking forward to the time with the Athosians, yes-but it was supposed to be time with Rodney, too.
“Hey, don’t have too much fun without me, huh?” he finally said, which was probably the lamest line ever.
Rodney must not have minded, because his expression softened, and the corners of his mouth turned up in a real smile. “I’ll try.”
John turned to leave, but Rodney’s voice stopped him. “Look, John-” he began, and then seemed to think better of it. “Take care of yourself.”
“I’ll try,” John promised. “See you in a week, McKay.”
John hated that it felt like goodbye.
~~~~~
Teyla didn’t have much to pack. She felt the flutter of excitement at the prospect of two weeks among her people, particularly since she would not have to question whether Atlantis would be harmed by her absence. For the first time in a long time, she did not feel torn between two worlds, two duties.
The knock on her door surprised her, and Teyla called out a welcome. When only silence followed, she half-turned to face Rodney, who hovered uncertainly in the entrance.
“Rodney? Shouldn’t you be packing?”
“I’m going over next week,” Rodney replied. “Elizabeth didn’t think it was a good idea for Sheppard and me to be off the city at the same time for so long.”
Teyla grimaced. She hadn’t thought of that particular problem, although she probably should have. The Athosians didn’t have the traditional command structures that the Lanteans did, but her people were careful to split the care of the elders among family groups, careful so that not all of the elders and leaders of the Athosians would be taken at once in a culling.
So far, they had always been successful.
“I see. Does John want Ronon or me to stay behind this week, too?”
Rodney shook his head emphatically. “No, no, nothing like that. He thought you guys would want to stay with the Athosians for the full two weeks.”
Teyla nodded. “Forgive me for any rudeness, Rodney, but why are you here?”
“I need to ask your advice,” Rodney blurted out. “It’s about Sheppard.”
Teyla knew her time was growing short, and she hated to be late. “I would be happy to help, but-”
“Right, there isn’t time.” Rodney appeared absolutely miserable. “I’ll talk to you next week.”
“If you could give me an idea what the problem is, I could think about it this week, and next week we could talk in more detail,” Teyla suggested, wanting to offer him something.
“I’m interested in John, and I know he’s interested in me, but when I suggested…” Rodney flushed a deep red and trailed off. “You know what, forget it.”
Teyla frowned. “Do you want a relationship with him beyond friendship?”
“Yes. I just-I’m afraid I ruined my chance to ask.”
Teyla thought for a moment, and decided that without knowing more about the situation she couldn’t very well give advice. She might, however, offer an observation of John’s character and hope Rodney worked out his next step on his own.
“John seems to appreciate actions more than words,” she said. “Perhaps you should try showing him how you feel.”
Rodney frowned, opened his mouth-probably to argue-and then shut it abruptly. “That’s…a good idea.”
Teyla smiled. Rodney really could be tactless, but she always knew where she stood with him. “I do have them occasionally.”
“Oh! I didn’t mean to imply that-I just-thank you,” he finally said. “It’s a good idea.”
“I hope you can put it to good use,” Teyla replied. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to be late if I don’t leave right this moment.”
“Of course.” Rodney followed her out of the room. “Have a good week, Teyla.”
Teyla pulled Rodney’s forehead to her own, feeling as though he needed the physical gesture.
While Teyla was not late reaching the jumpers, she was the last to arrive, murmuring an apology to the four Marines in the back of John’s jumper. She stowed her gear, taking her traditional seat behind him. Corporal Barnes sat in the co-pilot’s chair, looking supremely uncomfortable to be sitting next to his commanding officer.
“Glad you could make it, Teyla,” John said, with a smile that took out any potential sting.
“Something came up rather suddenly,” she replied. “But I’m here now.”
“Let’s get underway. Barnes, you take us up.”
Teyla could hear his audible gulp, and she exchanged an amused look with Ronon, who had the seat behind Barnes. “Yes, sir,” Barnes said.
The takeoff, while not as smooth as John’s, was not as bad as it could have been for someone with so little training.
“Good,” John said. He didn’t hesitate to offer praise where it was due, at least for those under his command. “Now let’s see if you can fly it in a straight line.”
Ronon smirked, and Teyla leaned back in her seat, content to watch John instruct Barnes in the finer points of piloting a jumper. By the time Barnes landed, he’d relaxed considerably. Teyla thought that by the time the week was out, John would have convinced Barnes he was worthy of respect, and Barnes would follow John into a hive ship, just like all of the other military personnel on Atlantis.
“Good landing,” John said. “Well done, Corporal.”
“Thank you, sir,” Barnes said, flushing with pride.
Teyla allowed the four Marines in the cargo area to disembark first. She caught sight of Major Lorne immediately. He looked tanned and fit, wearing a grubby white t-shirt and loose trousers that Teyla thought had probably belonged to one of her people.
As John might say, Major Lorne had gone native.
“Good to see you, sir,” Lorne said as soon as John emerged from the jumper.
“You’re out of uniform, Lorne,” John observed, although his grin suggested that he didn’t care.
“Yes, sir,” Lorne replied. “No offense, sir, but black is too hot to wear in the middle of the fields.”
John waved off the explanation. “Lorne, I don’t care what you wear as long as you get the job done.”
Lorne moved closer, speaking in low tones. Teyla started to approach in order to overhear their conversation, but Halling approached her with his hands outstretched. “Teyla.”
“It’s a pleasure to see you,” Teyla said, turning her attention to Halling. “Have the Lanteans been of help?”
“More than I’d hoped,” Halling confessed with a conspiratorial smile. “We have formed close connections these last two weeks.”
“I’m glad to hear that,” Teyla said. “I’d worried.”
“As had I,” Halling replied. “But if we continue on in this vein, we will have enough food for our people and theirs for the next year.”
“That is good news.” She glanced over to see Lorne taking a step back from John, apparently responding to a call from one of her people. As he approached, Teyla recognized Laro, whom she hadn’t seen for months now. “Very close connections?” Teyla asked in a murmur as Laro pressed a wrapped object into Lorne’s hands.
Halling smiled. “You could say that. Laro has not expressed an interest in anything but his art in a very long time.”
“So I’ve noticed,” Teyla replied, watching as Lorne blushed and accepted the gift. “How long has this been going on?”
“Laro has been giving Major Lorne lessons this last week. I imagine that we can expect him to ask Colonel Sheppard for permissions to visit Atlantis.”
“John is only staying for the first week,” Teyla informed him. “Elizabeth believed it too dangerous to leave Atlantis without its military commander or its chief of sciences for any longer.”
Halling nodded. “I had wondered. You and I both know the heavy burden a leader must bear.”
“I do,” Teyla agreed. She turned to smile at John as he strolled up to greet Halling.
“I’m sure Teyla already told you that I can’t stay more than a week,” John said. “Sorry about that.”
“I understand,” Halling assured him.
John nodded at Lorne and Laro, who were still saying their goodbyes. “Anything I should worry about?”
“Laro is a master craftsman, and he’s unattached,” Halling replied. “Many in his family have been culled, and he keeps to himself. His work is highly prized, and provides valuable trade goods for us.”
John nodded, making a noncommittal sound.
“The items that Laro makes are both beautiful and very valuable,” Teyla said.
“Seems like making pottery takes a knack,” John observed.
Teyla smiled. “It does, and Laro is not known for wasting his time.”
“I’m told that Major Lorne has picked things up quickly,” Halling said.
Lorne joined them, the item tucked under his arm still in its wrapping. He was flushed, a pleased smile on his lips. “If you don’t need me for anything else, Colonel, I’ll finish loading my things.”
“Don’t keep us in suspense, Major,” John drawled. “Let’s see what you’ve got there.”
Lorne flushed a deeper shade of red. “Uh…yes, sir.”
Teyla recognized the distinctive lines of one of Laro’s bowls, one that would fetch quite a price in trade. “That is a great gift, Major.”
“I’m aware.” Lorne tried-and failed-to suppress a grin. “He does amazing work.”
“He does,” Halling agreed.
Lorne glanced at John. “Sir, if you don’t need me-”
“Go,” John said. “And I’ll expect you to pilot the jumper bringing the next team next week, Major.”
“Yes, sir,” Lorne said, keeping a straight face.
Teyla looked over at John as Lorne jogged off. “That was kind, John.”
“Hey, somebody ought to be getting some action,” John replied, his tone slightly sour.
Teyla exchanged a look with Halling and decided not to press the matter. She suspected that it had something to do with Rodney’s last minute request for advice, but Teyla wasn’t about to get in the middle.
“And if Laro asks to visit Atlantis?” Halling asked.
John shrugged. “I don’t see where the harm would be in a visit.”
“No harm at all,” Halling replied.
Teyla felt a thrum of contentment as she settled into one of the tents that had been set aside for the Lanteans. Before Charin’s death, Teyla had stayed in her tent when visiting, and since then, there had been others who were more than willing to share space. Now that the Athosians had a permanent arrangement with the Lanteans, two tents had been reserved for those who stayed on the mainland.
Although Teyla knew the Lanteans would likely have chosen to arrange sleeping quarters along gender lines, her people formed family groups, and John had decreed that teams would share a tent in keeping with local custom.
Teyla sensed that John was trying to encourage those on Atlantis to do as he had done-to find family among team members, and she approved. In fact, the only thing preventing Teyla from being perfectly happy was Rodney’s absence, and she suspected John and Ronon felt much the same way.
And, while she understood why John and Elizabeth had decided to split up the team for these two weeks, she feared that it was a harbinger of things to come. There might come a time when Elizabeth determined that she could not risk both Rodney and John on the same mission.
Still, even with Rodney’s absence, Teyla thought that being back among her people for two weeks was a little like pulling on her favorite pair of pants, the ones that fit her like a second skin, and were worn in all the right places. Sitting down to dinner at Halling’s fire, with a tankard of Varani ale, Teyla felt at ease, in a way she had not since giving up her place as leader to Halling.
Teyla mourned on her friends’ behalf, and for the loss of a world she’d seen only through John’s eyes, but she couldn’t regret the closer ties that had been forged between her people and the Lanteans.
Jinto sat between John and Ronon, looking from one to the other with hero-worship in his eyes, and although the boy behaved himself, Teyla could see Jinto vibrating with questions.
John had always been good with children, and halfway through the meal, he nudged Jinto with his elbow. “Go ahead and ask,” John whispered conspiratorially.
Jinto immediately turned to Ronon. “Is it true you’ve killed a million Wraith?”
Ronon’s lips twitched. “Not that many.”
“Can I see your gun?” Jinto asked.
Ronon glanced at Halling for approval and received a brief nod in reply. “Look, but don’t touch.”
Jinto stared at Ronon’s weapon with the same avarice John sometimes displayed, his blue eyes wide. “May I see your sword?”
“Jinto-” Halling began, a warning in his voice, but Ronon waved him off.
“It’s fine,” Ronon said. “I was curious at his age, too.”
Teyla glanced at John, seeing a heightened interest on his face. Ronon didn’t speak of his past. He made oblique references to his time as a runner on occasion, but he rarely talked about Sateda. Ronon’s life before the Wraith had been destroyed, and his world remained a mystery.
Jinto stared at Ronon’s blade with the same wide-eyed wonder, and cautiously asked, “How did you learn to use such weapons?”
“The military,” Ronon replied briefly.
Jinto opened his mouth to ask another question, and Halling said again, “Jinto.”
This time, Jinto heeded the warning and subsided. Teyla turned the conversation to safer subjects, mostly gossip about various Athosians and their kin, as well as a few off-world contacts Halling had seen more recently than she had.
Their pleasant conversation was interrupted by the arrival of Corporal Barnes and two of the Athosians Teyla had recommended as guides. “There’s a knife-throwing contest, sir,” Barnes said. “We thought Ronon might want to know.”
Ronon glanced over at John, who shrugged. “Up to you, Chewie.”
Ronon’s answering grin was fierce. “Coming, Sheppard?”
“Don’t mind if I do,” John replied, getting to his feet with an easy grace.
Jinto sent a pleading look Halling’s way. “Father? May I?”
“If you don’t mind, I can keep an eye on him,” John promised.
Halling nodded. “Go on, but remember that you still have chores tomorrow, Jinto.”
Jinto rolled his eyes, but dutifully said, “Yes, Father,” and John draped an arm over the boy’s shoulders.
“Ronon’s going to kick some butt,” John predicted as they headed away from Halling’s tent.
The sun hung low in the sky, but there was just enough light to allow for such displays of skill. Teyla could hear laughter and conversation, the joyful sounds of a secure people. It had been a long time since she’d witnessed such a gathering.
“They will remember tomorrow why it is unwise to drink ruus wine, except at festivals,” Halling predicted.
Teyla smiled. “They are young, and will recover much more quickly than either of us would.” She hesitated and said, “Jinto has grown.”
“Sometimes, when I wake in the night, I look over at him and think that I can see him getting bigger,” Halling admitted. After a pause, he added, “He wants to be a warrior, and he is at an age where he does not think much of his father.”
“I seem to recall that you went through such a phase,” Teyla replied with a smile.
Halling chuckled. “I did, but it’s easy to forget.”
“I will have a word with John,” Teyla promised. “Perhaps he can sing the praises of farmers.”
Halling shook his head. “Jinto will have to learn a warrior’s ways. I would prefer that he learn how to fight from someone I trust.”
Teyla belatedly realized what Halling meant. “You wish me to teach him?”
“He’s been playing Wraith and hunter since he was small,” Halling replied. “And he wishes to learn how to fight. If you would teach him how to use the bantos, I could console myself that at least he is learning the ways of our people.”
Teyla nodded. “I would be honored to give Jinto lessons as I am able.”
“Only as you are able,” Halling replied. “And please, do not go easy on him. I trust you to teach him that the warrior’s path is not only about glory, but also about pain.”
“Pain, and the acceptance of suffering,” Teyla agreed. “Perhaps Jinto will turn from the path as he learns that lesson.”
Halling sighed. “Perhaps, though I wish all of our people could forgo such lessons, Teyla.”
“The Lanteans offer our best chance for such a hope,” Teyla pointed out, long used to bridging the gap between the two worlds.
Halling nodded. “And that is why I didn’t hesitate to create a deeper bond between our peoples. It’s to their credit that they are willing to stay and fight the Wraith with us, rather than going back to their home.”
“It is,” Teyla agreed. “But this is their home.”
“And now that our peoples are more tightly knitted together, what will you do?” Halling asked. “Will you come back to us?”
“I have a family on Atlantis, Halling. I believe I may serve our people there better than I would here.”
“I agree,” Halling said. “But I had to ask.”
Teyla inclined her head. “I understand.”
The silence that fell between them was not uncomfortable. They had known each other too long for that, and even when they didn’t see eye to eye, there was a level of understanding that eased Teyla’s heart.
And yes, she would likely be happy to return to Atlantis in two weeks, but she was content to be here at the moment.
~~~~~
Evan grinned as he stepped off the jumper to see Radek waiting. Radek had a tablet in hand, and he appeared to be in the process of going over the docked jumpers, but Evan knew that if he’d truly been engaged in his task, Radek wouldn’t have watched the team disembark.
With his duffel over one shoulder, and Laro’s bowl tucked under his opposite arm, Evan jogged over to say hello. Radek’s sharp blue eyes peered out from behind smudged lenses. “What do you have there, Major?” he asked.
Evan tried to fight the blush, but it was a lost cause. “Uh, Laro-one of the Athosians-gave it to me.”
“The workmanship is exquisite,” Radek noted when Evan removed the wrapping to show off his gift.
“He gave me a few lessons.”
“You are a Renaissance man, then,” Radek suggested, his tone gently mocking. “You paint, you make pots, you play chess. Is there anything you cannot do?”
Evan grinned. “I can’t cook to save my life.”
“And thus you are saved from boring perfection,” Radek teased.
Evan shrugged. “Thank God.”
“You will play chess with me tonight?”
“I will,” Evan promised. “I’ve missed it.”
Radek smiled. “As have I.”
“Major Lorne!” Dr. Weir called as she approached. “Go get checked out, and then join me in the conference room for a debriefing.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he replied, nodding at Radek.
Evan swung by his quarters to drop his things off, and then headed for the infirmary. Dr. Beckett waved him to one of the empty beds. Although everybody who’d spent the last two weeks with the Athosians were scattered around the infirmary, Evan couldn’t see any other patients.
“Seems like you’ve had a couple of quiet weeks,” Evan said when Beckett showed up to draw a sample of blood.
Beckett glared at him. “You’re going to jinx us with talk like that, lad.”
“Sorry,” Evan said immediately. “But aren’t we due for an emergency soon?”
“Let’s hope we can avoid it,” Beckett said grimly. “We still have the Wraith to worry about. I haven’t forgotten.”
“Nobody’s forgotten about it,” Evan assured him.
Beckett shook his head. “Of course you have. We live in the moment, Major. What other choice do we have?”
“That doesn’t mean we can’t plan ahead,” Evan objected, although he knew there wasn’t much they could do to plan. Almost everything they did was reactive; that was just the nature of the game.
Beckett patted him on the shoulder. “You’re cleared, Major. It looks like your time with the Athosians was good for you.”
“They’re an amazing people,” Evan replied with complete sincerity.
Beckett smiled. “Aye. They’re lovely. Off with you now.”
Evan had just enough time to shower and change into a clean uniform before meeting Dr. Weir in the conference room. Dr. McKay entered shortly after he did, still typing away on his tablet. Dr. Beckett hurried inside, and Stackhouse and Cadman dropped into the seats on either side of Lorne.
“I’d like a report on your time on the mainland as soon as you can get to it,” Dr. Weir said. “And I’ve heard from the Ebrus. They’ve had an outbreak of what they call the planting sickness and have requested our help. Dr. Beckett is leaving tomorrow morning, and I want you to accompany him, Major.”
Evan nodded. “Of course. What if they ask about Colonel Sheppard?”
“Tell them we want to prove our trustworthiness before we try to gain access to their temple, and Colonel Sheppard is currently fulfilling a promise made to our allies.”
It was the kind of diplomatic response Evan had come to expect from Dr. Weir, and while he could employ that sort of tact, he hadn’t had much experience. Since coming to Atlantis, Evan had executed a hell of a lot of search and rescue missions, but first contacts generally went to Sheppard’s team.
“Anything else I should know?” Evan asked.
“We’ll want to identify the source of the illness,” Dr. Beckett said. “We don’t currently have an entomologist, but Dr. Parrish has some knowledge that might be helpful.”
Dr. Weir nodded. “Take Dr. Parrish, then. Anyone else?”
Evan considered the question. “Cadman and Reeves, just in case. They’re both handy in a fight, and they know how to keep their mouths shut.” He carefully didn’t look at Cadman when he said it, but he caught her grin out of the corner of his eye.
“Agreed,” Elizabeth said. “Reeves has some training as a medic, doesn’t he?”
Evan nodded. “He did. It was one of the reasons he was chosen to come to Atlantis, along with his gene, and pilot’s training.”
“Good, he can assist Dr. Beckett and his people,” Dr. Weir stated. “You leave at 0800 tomorrow, so get some rest.”
Cadman and Stackhouse fell in on either side of Evan as he left the conference room. “So, how was it, sir?” Cadman asked.
“How was what?” Evan asked, playing dumb.
Cadman gave him a look that said she knew he was messing with her. “I’m going in two weeks,” she pointed out. “And Stackhouse has the shift after me. We’d like to know what to expect.”
“You’ll have access to my report after I’ve given a copy to Dr. Weir,” Evan replied, heading for his office.
Cadman didn’t wait for an invitation; she dropped into a chair across from his desk. Not for the first time, Evan thought that Cadman’s expertise with explosives probably allowed her to get away with a lot.
Either that, or being on Atlantis had given her freer rein.
Stackhouse was a little more circumspect, hovering uncertainly next to the door.
“Come in,” Evan sighed. “You’ve both had dealings with the Athosians. They’re gracious hosts.”
Stackhouse sat down in the other chair. “Yes, sir, but it’s a little different now.”
Evan was about to say that they’d be with their teams, and then he remembered that they were both floaters, meaning that they didn’t have a permanent team. He quickly pulled up the roster for assignments and said, “The food is good, and they’ve got two tents set aside for us. You can split up quarters however you want, although the colonel suggested dividing them between teams. It’s hard work, but it’s not unpleasant. You’ll be fine.”
“I blow things up,” Cadman pointed out. “I joined the Marines so I didn’t have to be a farmer.”
“Maybe they’ll find something for you to blow up,” Evan suggested. “I don’t need to remind you how important this alliance is, Lieutenant. We need supplies, and the Athosians have offered us a close alliance and a low-risk way of getting those supplies.”
“I get the importance, sir,” Cadman assured him. “No way am I going to screw it up.”
“I’m not worried that you will,” Evan replied. “Anybody we couldn’t trust didn’t make it on the rotation. Don’t worry about it. You’ll have fun.”
“Like you did?” Cadman asked. “Scuttlebutt says you made a friend.”
Evan just managed to keep a straight face, and to keep the blush from creeping up his neck. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Sure,” Cadman drawled. “Just so you know, and based on your example, I’m hoping to meet a gorgeous guy and live happily ever after.”
“Get out of here,” Evan growled. “Both of you.”
Cadman grinned at him cheekily, but Stackhouse didn’t hesitate to rise to his feet. “Thank you for your time, sir,” he said.
Cadman glared at Stackhouse but said, “Thank you, sir.”
“I have a report to write,” Lorne said. “I’m sure you both have things to do.”
“Sir, yes, sir,” Cadman shot back.
Evan shook his head. Cadman had a point about his report; reports always contained the bare bones and little more. The scuttlebutt generally contained the juicier details, which made its way through Atlantis like wildfire.
He couldn’t blame Cadman and Stackhouse for wanting the inside scoop. Evan probably would have cornered Sheppard for details if the colonel had won the coin toss.
Evan finished his report in short order and sent it on to Elizabeth. Radek was already in the mess by the time Evan arrived for dinner, and he quickly filled his tray and joined his friend.
“I hear you have a mission tomorrow,” Radek said as Evan sat down across from him.
Evan shrugged. “It will have to be a short game tonight, I’m afraid.”
“And that is different from another night, how?” Radek asked with a wicked glint in his eye.
Evan couldn’t suppress his grin. “I’ll beat you one of these days, old man.”
Radek’s eyes twinkled merrily. “Ah, but with age comes wisdom, my friend. Now, tell me about the friend you made with the Athosians.”
Evan shook his head. “How did you hear about that?”
“This is Atlantis,” Radek reminded him. “Gossip is an art form.”
Evan shrugged. “I guess so.”
“So?”
Evan smiled. “His name is Laro.”
“This I already knew,” Radek replied. “Tell me something I don’t know.”
Evan hesitated briefly. He’d been hiding in plain sight for so long, it felt strange to be open about his relationship-or proto-relationship-now. And yet, there was no censure in Radek’s eyes, only a gentle concern.
He appreciated that he could be honest with Radek.
“He’s going to ask for permission to visit Atlantis for a few weeks,” Evan offered.
Radek smiled. “Now, that’s a good start.”
~~~~~
Elizabeth hated waiting. She’d grown used to it since coming to Atlantis; as the expedition head, she couldn’t go haring off whenever she’d like. When she did leave the city, it was generally because her expertise was needed, and no one else would do.
But now… There was no one else to take her place if she were killed off-world. There was John, of course, and he’d do a fine job, but Elizabeth also knew that he didn’t want the position. Rodney could handle it in a pinch, but there weren’t many others.
In time, maybe, other teams from the SGC would make their way to Atlantis, and there would be other senior officers who could take their places if necessary. But until then, Elizabeth would be forced to wait and watch, to stay on Atlantis, even though she wanted to spend time with the Ebrus and the Athosians, to cement old alliances and make new ones.
That’s what she’d come to Pegasus to do, after all. She hadn’t known that her position would make it harder, not easier, to accomplish her goals.
The alarms for a gate activation sounded, and Elizabeth made her way from her office to the control room. Chuck’s fingers flew over the touch pad as the wormhole whooshed to life. “It’s Major Lorne’s IDC, ma’am,” he said.
“Lower the shield,” she ordered. Lorne was right on time, and she felt herself relax ever so slightly.
Lorne stepped through the gate first, raising a hand in greeting and reassurance. The rest of the team followed close behind, no one looking the worse for wear. Carson waved to her as well, offering a reassuring smile.
Elizabeth headed down the stairs. “I take it there weren’t any problems?”
Carson shook his head. “The Ebrus are quite hospitable, Dr. Weir, and were very grateful for our assistance.”
“You discovered what was causing the illness?” she asked, glancing over at Dr. Parrish.
Parrish shrugged his narrow shoulders. “I believe we’ve discovered the insect responsible. As we suspected, it’s similar to the Earth mosquito, and we’re going to attempt to come up with a way to stop its breeding without a negative effect on the ecosystem.”
“Good work,” Elizabeth replied. “Carson?”
“It’s similar enough to malaria to make it easier to devise a treatment. We took along plenty of mosquito netting, and that should make an impact in the spread.” He shrugged. “Otherwise, it’s just a matter of treating symptoms.”
Elizabeth looked at Lorne. “Did they ask about Colonel Sheppard?”
“They did, but I explained the circumstances. Brista seemed relieved that we weren’t too eager to gain access to the ruins. They’re expecting the colonel’s arrival next week, though.”
“Good. We’ll plan on that. Well done, people,” Elizabeth called out. “Get checked out, and then enjoy your evening off.”
Carson and Lorne followed Elizabeth to her office, as she’d half-expected. “What else do you have for me?” she asked as the door slid shut behind them.
“They’re a fundamentally peaceful people,” Carson said slowly, his Scottish brogue thick. “They welcomed us with open arms.”
“And their response to Colonel Sheppard’s absence?” Elizabeth queried, wanting more details.
Lorne shook his head. “They seemed pleased, to be honest. Brista appeared to be gratified that we were willing to help, even without gaining access to the temple. It was a good call.”
“Thank you,” Elizabeth replied. “Anything else I need to know?”
“We were able to discover a little more about the purification ritual,” Lorne replied. “They require a fast, and a hike to the sacred temple without weapons or shoes. It’s a symbolic gesture, but it’s nothing too arduous.”
“I understand,” Elizabeth replied. “Did you discover any more information about whether the ritual can be aborted?”
Carson shook his head. “Nothing from my end.”
“Brista reiterated that no one had ever died as a result of the ritual,” Lorne replied. “My understanding is that Colonel Sheppard can abort at any time.”
“That’s good to know,” Elizabeth replied. “Enjoy your evening, gentlemen.”
They left her with her thoughts, and acting on impulse, Elizabeth called down to Chuck. “Begin scanning all channels, Chuck. I want to be sure that we don’t miss any messages from SGC teams.”
“You got it, Dr. Weir.”
Elizabeth missed Teyla and Ronon. She missed John, too, and while she’d ordered daily check-ins for each team spending time on the mainland, it wasn’t the same.
Still, there were only a couple of hours until John was due to check in, so it behooved Elizabeth to stay in her office.
When John’s call did come in, Elizabeth answered immediately. “How are you?”
“We’re good,” John assured her. “The crops are in the ground, and they’re looking forward to Rodney’s help with the irrigation next week, but we’ve got enough to keep us busy until then.”
“That’s good to hear,” Elizabeth replied.
“Wasn’t Lorne going to spend time with the Ebrus today?” John asked.
Elizabeth quickly filled him in, and added, “They’re expecting you next week.” She gave him a run-down of what Lorne had said about the ritual. “You don’t have to do this, you know.”
“It’s the principle of the thing,” John replied. “I can’t ask anybody to do what I won’t. Tell you what, though. If we get another chance like this, I’ll let someone else do it.”
Elizabeth can’t fault his sense of honor. “You’re on.”
“Talk to you tomorrow,” John promised.
“You’d better.”
When Elizabeth finished up for the day, she headed for the cafeteria. She had planned on eating alone, but when Zelenka waved her over, Elizabeth joined him and Major Lorne.
“I hear that we have a source of cloth,” Zelenka said. “Congratulations.”
Lorne gave him a hard look. “It’s not as simple as that.”
“It never is,” Elizabeth observed, beginning to dig in to the mystery casserole.
Lorne sighed. “I’ve included this in my report, but black is not a color the Ebrus embrace.”
“But they can provide it,” Zelenka inserted.
“No, but they can do something close to charcoal gray.” Lorne shrugged. “From what Brista said, a true black is nearly impossible to dye. The closest they can come is a charcoal gray, which occurs naturally in the fleece of the orkna they breed.”
“I think we can get by without a true black,” Elizabeth replied. “We’ll utilize whatever cloth we can get.”
“Good luck with that, ma’am,” Lorne muttered.
Elizabeth raised her eyebrows. “Do you think it’s going to be a problem, Major?”
“You know how Colonel Sheppard feels about black,” Lorne replied.
Elizabeth sighed. “Then he’ll just have to get used to the idea,” Elizabeth replied. “If charcoal gray is the best we can do, then that’s what we’ll use. End of story.”
“If you say so, ma’am,” Lorne replied with a wry twist of his mouth.
Elizabeth could appreciate Lorne’s sense of humor; Colonel Sheppard tended to wear a lot of black. “Colonel Sheppard’s fashion choices aside, will we have enough cloth for the entire expedition?”
Lorne shook his head. “There’s no way, especially given how hard we are on uniforms.”
“Any suggestions?” Elizabeth asked.
Lorne glanced at Zelenka, who shrugged. “We could use more durable materials.”
“Outfitting the entire expedition in leather seems a little much,” Elizabeth objected.
Lorne frowned thoughtfully. “It’s not a bad idea, though, at least for off-world missions. We won’t have to worry about it for a while, but it’s going to become an issue. I doubt there’s a trading partner we could find who could fully supply our needs.”
“I’ll take it under consideration,” Elizabeth said. “I’m hesitant to make any decision that results in us looking like a bunch of space pirates.”
Lorne smirked, and Zelenka snorted. “As long as we don’t make eye patches part of the uniform, I think we can avoid it,” Lorne replied cheerfully.
“I’ll try to resist,” Elizabeth said dryly.
Zelenka asked Lorne a question about his time with the Athosians, neatly changing the subject. Elizabeth tucked into her meal, letting the conversation wash over her, grateful for the company, which served as a distraction from her own melancholy thoughts.
Chapter 8