A general Stargate Atlantis short fic.
Warning: Spoiler alert for the end of SGA.
Author's Note: For the following story, Carter is still in charge because Wolsey never came to run Atlantis.
Synospsis: The SGA Expedition members have just received some news from Colonel Carter – news they don't like at all.
CANCELLED
by alastria7
Following orders. At times, it stank.
Carter had objected, oh how she'd objected, when her superiors had contacted her earlier on in the morning with some devastating news for the main inhabitants of the City of the Ancients. But an objection was an opinion after all, and her opinion didn't matter a damn in the face of Orders from Above. And, whatever she felt about it, she was there to do one thing, afforded by her rank, and that was to carry out those orders. Period. She didn't have to agree with them.
Right now she was wishing she could yell at someone. At a time like this, it fell to her leadership to be strong and provide her people with someone they could yell at instead. And it was a hell of a thing she'd just told John Sheppard's team as they'd gated back to Atlantis following their latest off-world assignment. She steeled herself for the fallout.
"What do you mean, we've been cancelled?" A dumfounded Rodney McKay glared at Carter. When she failed to offer anything remotely like comfort, he took his dumfounded look on a little trip around Sheppard, Teyla and Ronon, his mouth slightly ajar. The gate room still echoed with his words.
"She means can-cel-led," Sheppard said slowly. "Sent home. Dismissed. Pack up and leave. Right?" He stared hopefully at Carter for confirmation that he'd misunderstood her.
"Right," she confirmed.
Rodney rounded on John like it was all John's fault. "Why would they do that?"
"It's not like they don't have the right," Carter said, frowning at them. "I mean I might not like it, but the IOA have control here. And they've decided... there aren't enough people on Earth backing our expedition, so they've recalled us. We're done here."
"Is it that simple?" Teyla asked.
Carter wished it wasn't, but, "Yeah." She shrugged. "I'm afraid it is."
"That is so not fair," objected Rodney. "Don't we get a say in this?"
Carter knew all about having 'a say'. She also knew it had been a complete waste of time because when a mountain decides to erupt, there isn't much you can do about it. She shook her head. "Not with The Powers That Be. You know they pull the strings, Rodney, just as much as I know it. There's nothing we can do."
"But I thought they'd decided we were doing a great job, a necessary job," Sheppard said. "I thought we were needed."
Carter looked downcast. "Yeah, I thought so, too."
Sheppard pursed his lips and nodded, understanding. "That's it then." He was trying hard to be philosophical, having been through this before; OK not quite like this but, being military, he was hardened to orders suddenly breaking into his structured working life and turning his stability on its head. He broke away from the others, heading for the staircase that would take him to the control room above, pulling a line of followers as the others drifted after him.
"So that's it?" McKay continued to argue, waving a hand around. "Are we just supposed to ship out and forget it?"
"'Fraid so," Carter agreed, climbing the stairs.
Rodney was deeply disappointed.
As was John Sheppard - he loved Atlantis, and the thought of leaving it cut into him but there was no way he would show that to the others. From the expression on Carter's face earlier, he knew there was no point in arguing against Earth's orders – she'd have done that already, he guessed, and he was betting she'd given them hell. But The Powers were not a group of people you could ever hope to win out over, not like the Wraith or other evils. No, The Powers had the power. It was a done deal. Sheppard turned slightly as he neared the top of the steps and shot a look back at McKay. "Sorry Rodney, but you're just going to have to find a job packing supermarket shelves on Earth, or something."
"Yes, thank you for that," grumbled the scientist. "Although I seriously think I would be the best shelf-packer the world has ever seen!"
A few faces now carried smiles at the thought of Rodney packing shelves, brilliantly, as Ronon added, "I'd pay to see that."
"Hard to save the world, though, at the same time," Rodney concluded.
Having arrived at the upper level, the small group entered the control room, all well aware that this discussion wasn't over yet.
From his perch on the edge of a desk, Sheppard looked over at Ronon, who was leaning against the wall. "You got nothing to say?"
"Yeah," the big man replied. "Never thought they'd do it – never thought your people would pull you out of here." His words echoed a thought the others had already entertained.
"Yes well they shouldn't have ordered us home, in my opinion," Rodney said fervently, bubbling over again as he sprang up from his seat and paced. "I'm sure this is all some huge mistake."
Sam Carter shared his feelings. "It's no mistake, Rodney," she said gently.
Halting in front of the seated Carter, McKay glared down at her, raising his voice to demand, "Can't you do something?"
"You think I haven't tried?"
"Well there has to be..."
"I had a bag full of tricks, Rodney," she interrupted, shaking her head. "I pulled them all out one by one and nothing worked. We're history. The Expedition has been ordered home." She smiled wanly. "I can't change that – for you, for any of us. I'm sorry."
An indignant Rodney stabbed the air with a finger, pointing first towards Teyla and then Ronon. "We can't leave them!" he almost shouted.
"Don't you think that's up to them?" Sheppard cut in reasonably, grinning at Ronon, unable to see either of them settling in to a life on Earth. For a visit, yes, but not full time.
"He needed us," Rodney persisted, glaring at Carter while pointing at Ronon again. "That... 'thingy' in his back... he'd have been dead by now, for certain, if we hadn't removed it."
"Thanks for the vote of confidence," Ronon said good-naturedly, folding his arms.
Still on a roll, Rodney glared at his boss. "And she..." he continued, pointing now towards Teyla, "left her own people so she could stand beside us in Atlantis. They're ours now!"
"It doesn't work that way, Rodney," John told him patiently. "Teyla and Ronon are really big grown-up people now..." He looked at them and grinned. "And they get to decide where they want to be, not you."
"And that'd be here," clarified Ronon, in case anyone was in any doubt.
Teyla pushed off from the wall she had been leaning against and stepped forward, gently resting a hand on McKay's sleeve to deliver the scientist's next bit of bad news. "I shall stay also. Thank you for caring, Rodney... but this galaxy is my home; I could not think of leaving." With that she gave him a light kiss on his cheek.
"But," McKay flapped, staring at Teyla uncomprehendingly. "I'll miss you!"
She smiled warmly. "And I you," she assured, squeezing his arm before returning to stand beside the Satedan.
"I can understand him," McKay persisted to Teyla, indicting Ronon with a nod of his head, "old Conan there, on a Mission... but why don't you come back to Earth with us?" he pushed, choosing to ignore her earlier words. "You could do that, couldn't you?" His voice left her in no doubt that parting from his new-found friends wasn't in his mind.
"Or you could remain here, with us," she stated serenely.
"Well, no. I mean I couldn't. I can't. I..." McKay floundered. "I guess I have a life on Earth that I kind of need to get back to, if we're not wanted here any more." Slowly those words and their implication sank in as he realized Teyla and Ronon were saying the same thing, from their side of the fence. He was surprised how much the thought of leaving them and Atlantis upset him. They were his friends, family almost, and this floating city was home, to all of them.
Sam Carter had been slowly stirred by the emotion in the room, and it was now beginning to fuel her anger. The decision to recall them had been made by a small group of people way too far removed from Atlantis ever to be affected by the decision. She knew it wasn't the view of everyone in Cheyenne Mountain. "I think," she offered tersely, "we are wanted here, there are people on Earth who want us to be here, but it's not up to all the people who want us, is it? It's up to the few bastards who don't."
"Whoa!" countered John, surprised at her. "Not like you, to lose it."
"Doesn't happen often," Carter defended, still angry. "And it shouldn't happen now, I know. I should just take this. I tried to, I really did, but this just makes my blood boil, John. First they break up SG-1, after 10 years of dedicating my life to it, to send me here, and now this..."
"What will you do?" Ronon asked, surprised that he cared enough to ask.
"Me?" She shrugged her shoulders at the Satedan and then glanced around at them all. "Honestly? I don't know. But..." Sam knew them well enough now, she decided, to trust them with her thoughts, "between you and me, this passive-desk-job thing... it sucks. I was created to get Out There and kick ass, not sit on it."
"And save the world," John added, grinning.
"And save the world," Sam agreed, without pride. "I can't go on doing the Hammond/O'Neill/Landry thing – oh, not that I'm knocking what they did, far from it. But this isn't me. I settled into it here, yes, but I can't do this again, somewhere else. And I won't. And if that's what they're going to try for, with me, then they'll have my resignation. In which case... I might just look up an old friend," she added wistfully, her anger dissipating as Jack O'Neill's twinkling brown eyes visited her mind's eye. "What about you?" she asked the Satedan. "What will you do?"
"I guess I'll head off –find a cause worth fighting for. I'm a fighter," he shrugged, looking at Teyla with a grin. "It's what I do."
"I wish you'd fight the idiots who decided, in their infinite lack of wisdom, to recall us," Rodney grumbled unhappily, standing beside a console and poking the corner of it absentmindedly. "I think I'd pay to see the IOA come up against you in combat."
"It'd serve them right," Carter agreed unprofessionally, smiling at the thought.
The small group of soon-to-be-displaced people fell silent. They were making occasional eye contact with each other but each one of them was momentarily lost in their own thoughts, as the sadness of their current reality marched all over their ability to push the truth aside. Then Sheppard decided to ask a certain question they'd all been avoiding.
"So when's the off? When do we ship out?"
Unable to sugar-coat it, Carter shocked them with her reply as she responded, "Tomorrow morning, 09:00 hours."
Sheppard winced. "They don't waste any time, do they?"
"That's when we start ferrying personnel back to Earth," Sam continued. "I'll deliver a City-wide soon, break the news to our people and tell them to get their things together."
"Not long to wrap up 5 years, is it?" Sheppard asked reflectively, flicking a pen across the desk he was perched on.
Rodney's anger was like a control freak in a padded cell, with no control over the people or events outside of the cell. He felt helpless and, although he was often clueless, helplessness wasn't a state Rodney McKay, brilliant scientist, enjoyed at all. "God, I hate this!"
"Yeah, I think it's safe to say we're all hating this, science-boy," Sheppard agreed. "So what happens to Atlantis?" he asked Carter.
"Yes, what do Earth plan to do about the City?" Teyla echoed, knowing that Earth's predecessors had built it and therefore Earth had the first call about what should become of it. She wanted to remain in the city, for now, and her voice held concern for her future.
"They're just abandoning it," Carter said with a disbelieving shrug. "And frankly I don't know why, because we have something going on out here, something special – we've got advanced technology, we've made new friends, and I was pretty sure we had some 'adventures' left in us yet." She signed. "Orders are to transport whatever technology we can carry. The rest...?" She huffed, lost for words.
"But if you remove large amounts of the technology and take it with you when you leave," Teyla said reasonably, "we shall not be left with enough to run Atlantis efficiently."
"She's right," Ronon agreed.
"Yeah," John sided with them. "Look, it's not up to Earth to take this stuff and just walk away with it. After all, Atlantis was here way before we found it and I think it's only manners we should leave it whole."
"You underestimate me," Carter told them with a slight smile. "I've already decided to inform Earth of some kind of 'magic' failsafe built into the equipment, something that blocks the removal of any technology that, by going, would inhibit the running of the City. I'll tell them it would endanger us to proceed with the plan." She acknowledged the approving looks she was getting. "That ought to do it."
"A lie?" McKay asked, amazed.
"Not really," Ronon informed them, smiling. "It would be dangerous to remove it. I'd probably start shooting!"
"And he's good," John said grinning.
"Don't worry, they'll believe me, when I've finished with them," Carter decided grimly. "We'll take some of the technology with us, certainly, but nothing that renders Atlantis less than it was before we came here. This place has to keep working."
Sheppard looked at her with pride. "Absolutely," he agreed, as Rodney also nodded his approval.
Approaching footsteps heralded the arrival of the Czech scientist, Radek Zelenka, who joined the group. He noted the looks on their faces and instantly knew there was some kind of a problem, but they weren't being too animated about it. That told him it probably wasn't anything too urgent. "What?" he asked generally.
"We've been cancelled," Sheppard told him glumly.
"Cancelled? What cancelled...? I don't understand. You cancel milk, you cancel an order. Cancelled?"
"As in we're all going home," Rodney clarified.
"Don't be ridiculous," Radek dismissed, sitting down at a console, ready to work.
Carter looked at the others and then calmly walked over to Zelenka, switching off the power to the console. "No point, Radek. We're not staying. It's all over," she said quietly.
"On who's order?" the Czech asked, amazed. It was unthinkable.
Rodney identified the culprits, like his little buddy Radek should have known who would do such a thing all along. "The IOA, of course."
"Ah, those idiots," Zelenka muttered, "what do they know?"
"They know you're going home tomorrow," Ronon told him.
Radek wasn't stupid. He had a past. With his character, and not exactly being a manly sort of man, he'd been an easy target for practical jokers over the years. And this was so obviously a wind-up. "I shall do no such thing," he objected airily.
"I'm afraid you'll carry out the order," Carter told him, grim-faced, "if I have to push you through the gate myself."
The scientist's mouth dropped open as he turned to stare at her, and then at the others. "You're not kidding, are you?" He was met with a sea of shaking heads. "No." he objected, but their expressions told him otherwise. "So it's official then?"
Sheppard confirmed it for him, "Yep."
Sam Carter was holding out on them. There had been a miniscule sweetener offered by the IOA. It was pathetic but at least it was a small lifeline and she considered this was probably the time to jump in and let the others know about it. "The IOA want us to come back here, to Atlantis – maybe once every few years, maybe sooner –to check up on the place, see what's happened to it, that kind of thing." She gazed at the surprised looks of disbelief. "Yeah, I know it's not much, but at least we'll get to catch up on old friends." Her last few words were directed at Ronon and Teyla. "If they're still around." She gave them a sad smile. "But otherwise, that's it."
"And in the meantime? Like, oh let me think, anything could happen!" McKay objected forcibly. "What is wrong with Earth? We NEED to be here!"
"Believe me, I tried," Carter said wearily, her anger a memory now. "Apart from keeping the SGC teams active, they said the only new project coming out of Cheyenne Mountain in the foreseeable future would be to send a Stargate crew to a ship they've discovered in deep space, probably built by the Lanteans, for exploration. But God knows when that'll happen."
"Oh, OK. So we can sign up for that, then," Rodney decided, thinking that his continued involvement with the SGC was way better than any other kind of science job he would ever find. And he doubted whether Earth would ever allow him to be part of a crack team operating out of Cheyenne Mountain.
"I don't think so," Carter said, quashing his idea. "Landry said they're looking for... younger recruits."
"Yah, but," Zelenka said, "with age comes experience." He waved a finger in the air and smiled knowingly.
"Right," Rodney agreed. "He's right."
"Probably the only time you ever agreed with me," grumbled Zelenka quietly.
"New kids on the block?" continued McKay, not rising to the bait. "Ridiculous. Those children know nothing. Entrust the job to a man, every time, I say." He looked around for support and found a few smiles aimed in his direction.
"They said younger, Rodney," Carter underlined, buttoning her grin. "That means... not us."
"Then the IOA are assholes." John Sheppard decided, although it wasn't a new concept to him.
"And I always thought you were intelligent," Rodney scolded. "What took you so long? They've always been assholes."
"Assholes, full of..."
"John!" Carter interrupted quickly as Ronon grinned. "Whatever we think of them, they have the power. So it doesn't really matter what we think. Our job is to carry out orders." That seemed to kill any remaining hope of rebellion in the others. "We had a blast," she told them. "It's been a hell of a ride."
"Some a bigger blast than others," Zelenka said reflectively, thinking of lost friends before he realized his quiet words were in gross bad taste. The others pretended they hadn't heard him.
"I wouldn't have missed it," Ronon told them, by way of saying thank you for rescuing him from his life as a runner from the Wraith. "I'll miss you guys."
Teyla nodded her agreement silently, her sad smile reaching out to everyone.
"We lost some good people," John said quietly. "Carson, Elizabeth..."
"She didn't have to let me stay," Ronon said, remembering Elizabeth Weir. "Could have said no but she took me in. I won't forget her."
"As I shall not forget Dr Beckett," Teyla said, misty-eyed, "nor how he put his own life before the lives of others. His compassion and love are a part of me now."
"Lovely way of putting it," Sam said.
"Yes. Good people, both of them, "Rodney readily agreed. "I'm glad I got to know them." After a lull, he added, "Surprisingly, I'm going to miss this place. I mean it took me a while to enjoy being here, especially during some of the more colorful adventures we've endured." He rubbed his right buttock, none too fondly remembering the arrow incident. "But now?" He looked around. "I don't want go, I don't want to leave Atlantis."
"Many will be sad to see your people leave," Teyla said softly. "You gave Pegasus the City of the Ancients; you restored it to them. You shall not be forgotten, ever."
"You know what's fascinating about life?" McKay said unexpectedly, not waiting for a reply. "Something always comes along to fill a void. It's the old 'nature abhors a vacuum,' thing." Looking partially pleased with himself as he came up with what he saw as a fitting analogy, he continued, "When they cancelled the X-Files on TV, I have to tell you, I was impossible."
They all stared at him. But he was being serious, apparently.
"I thought the bottom had dropped out of my world."
"Yeah, but," Sheppard protested with a scowl. "You can hardly rate us alongside some television show, Rodney. This is real life."
"Ah but the principle's the same," Rodney persisted as Ronon and Teyla shared a grin. "I'm just saying... I didn't have to wait too long before another show came along to interest me – a sci-fi, where they all ran off and saved the world weekly. Doesn't mean I'll ever forget the X-Files though," he said fondly, with a far-away look. "Mulder and Scully..."
"Then the news is all good for you," John told him. "You'll be home in time to see their latest movie!"
"Ah yes," Rodney said, his face breaking out into a smile, before he remembered his current situation and his smile faded.
Zelenka offered his own analogy. "Work is a lot like trams."
He had confused them all.
So he explained, "A tram comes along; you sit on it; it takes you places. Then you get off. Then another one comes along, and..." he swooped his right hand upward, "off you go again."
John grinned. "I think I'd pay to see you drive a tram through the Stargate!"
"My next job, whatever it is," said Rodney, "is going to be pretty much retro, compared to the City of the Ancients, isn't it? You're not going to find this kind of kick-ass advanced tech every day."
That hit home as they all fell into thinking about the truth of McKay's words. They were going to miss being able to do some of the 'wow' stuff Atlantis allowed; things they had, by now, largely taken for granted.
"Well wherever you all drift off to," Carter reminded them, "don't forget, every once in a while we'll be back here, in Atlantis – our little tidbit from the IOA – if you ever want to come back that is, once you get yourselves settled back on Earth."
"It wasn't my idea to leave here in the first place!" grumbled Rodney tetchily. "Of course I'll come back."
Silence fell, as the morrow and what it heralded for them sank that little bit deeper into their conscious brains. They fell into an uneasy acceptance, knowing they could no longer fight against it.
"Do we still have that poison you brewed up last month?" John finally asked Zelenka, referring to the wine the scientist had created, a wine that would probably burn a hole in paper if you splattered any on it.
"We do," the Czech said proudly.
"Then I suggest," John offered, "that we all get drunk as skunks later, since we can't change what's going to happen tomorrow." He clapped Ronon on the shoulder. "We should definitely party hard tonight, my friends – say a fond farewell to the natives. That is," he added, his questioning eyes now on Sam, "if boss-lady here has no objections."
"I'd only object if it wasn't happening," Sam said easily. And then, suddenly reflective, she added, "You know, I loved SG-1. And here I am, just beginning to love Atlantis – doesn't seem I've been here for more than a minute..."
"Yeah, John agreed. "I was pretty sure we'd get another year at it, at least. "They told me six years and then they'd review our situation. What the hell changed?"
"Hard to say, when you're dealing with narrow-minded officialdom," Sam grumbled. "I guess all that's left is that we celebrate all the good we've shared here, and move on out tomorrow, like good boys and girls."
"Then a party it is!" Zelenka told them, with a voice decorated in false happy-happy. "19:00 in that big training room near the West Pier?"
"Good idea," John said. "Room for all."
"Sounds good to me," Ronon agreed.
"OK then," Sam told them. "I guess I had better break the bad news to the City, and soften it with the party." She walked over to Zelenka, patting his arm. "The wine will certainly help. Thanks," she told him before walking away.
Moments later they heard Colonel Carter's strong and sure voice, with no trace of her inner emotions, informing the Earth-born inhabitants of Atlantis of their enforced career change in the morning, courtesy of the IOA.
After the broadcast, Sam knew there would be applications from some of the Pegasus natives, asking to be allowed to come back to Earth with them, and she headed off to her office to handle what her mind perceived as the steady flow of enquiries she was expecting.
She sat at her desk, deflated, staring through the glass wall that was a window, or the window that was a wall – it worked either way – and she sighed.
Strange day. Unexpected day.
One minute, one direction. And the next minute...? It was all over. Time to move on.
So what, if they could visit every now and then...
It wasn't enough.
But then, you can't fight Fate, she decided, wearily.
She thought of Elizabeth Weir then, and how Elizabeth hadn't handled being recalled to Earth when the Lanteans had supposedly returned to reclaim their city. She'd gone to see Elizabeth one evening and, having knocked for some time to gain admittance, she'd been shocked at the mess in the apartment when she'd finally been allowed inside. Elizabeth had been a mess too, like someone going through bereavement and ignoring life to take time out to mourn.
She could finally understand that now.
And a tear trickled down Carter's cheek. A tear for her own losses – lost chances, lost people – for time marching on without the gifts you hoped it might have brought you, and the uncertainty of change.
She was a tough chick. Nothing much fazed her, usually.
But sometimes life deserved a tear.
alastria7