Fixed Action Pattern
Black.
The monitor was dark. The screen completely blank. Power hummed through the machine but the data was obscured. Hidden by the daunting dark screen. Appearing innocuous as it sat amid other computers on a console in a little used side laboratory. Dust was a thin veneer on top of the machine. A fuzzy gray layer that could have been centuries old. Suddenly the console hummed. The screen popping into brightness, displaying overlapping data as John Sheppard touched the keys. Instantly it obeyed his commands, fulfilled his requests. The bright screen was filled with star charts, with planets, with colored lines that only intersected at a few places.
The ambient glow threw John's handsome face into stark relief against the other disused equipment nearby. Gold light playing on the strong planes of his cheeks, his jaw. Tinging his brilliant green eyes to a bluish-green hue that matched the walls across the room. He typed in his passwords, accessing the data he needed. Long fingers moving confidently over the dusty keys.
"That again?" Rodney McKay asked, eying the screen irritably. "You pulled me away from a potentially vital piece of dynamic physics theory for that?"
John frowned, standing back from the screen. "Yes. Look at it. Look at it!" he repeated, voice curt. "I need you to do a full systems check. I need you to check everything three months back up until now, in every system, every log, every data base."
"What for?" Rodney asked, perplexed. "Look, you showed me this before, and you seem to think it is significant. I don't see anything except a bunch of planets and lines. Maybe if you told me what those lines and those planets represented I would be better able to see whatever is you think I should be seeing."
"It's a collation of data. Mission logs, Moira's research, yours, all of it. And the only thing that connects them is the fact that they are not connected."
"Oh. Well, that certainly clarifies things," Rodney snapped. Glared at the screen again. "Wait." Rodney sat, studied the screen. Ran his finger along it, creating a clean line through a film of dust. "Missions? Moira's research? Mine? They're all disparate, right. Separate fields of inquiry, of interest."
"Are they? I mean, they are now, aren't they? Look. We're being driven, well, guided away from whatever you two are pursuing out that way." John pointed towards the outer edges of the screen. "I need to know by what, or by whom. And you can access the systems much faster than I can. I need to know–"
"Whoa! Wait!" Rodney turned in the chair to him. "You think someone is deliberately keeping us away from those planets? Why? You think...no. No! You can't think that Elizabeth would–"
"Keep your voice down!" John warned, glancing at the open doorway to the main physics lab.
"Honestly, I don't know what to think. And until I do you are to keep this to yourself. Just see who accessed what and when and if there are any glitches in our systems, particularly in regards to the mission rosters. Got it?"
Rodney nodded. "Okay, okay. Give me an hour. No, half. You know there are only a certain number of people who have this kind of access to our systems."
"I know," John agreed.
"And you know that of those certain people only a few less have complete access to every byte of data in those systems and can access it."
"I know," John repeated.
"And you know that of those certain people only three have the security clearances and the command codes to bypass any fire walls to access those..." Rodney paused. "Whoa! Wait! If not Elizabeth, and it surely can't be her, then who? It's certainly not me! Am I a suspect? Are you? You, you think there's a traitor in–"
"No. Nothing that dramatic. Just see what you can find, Rodney. And keep it close," John advised sternly. He shut off the computer. The screen blinked into blackness again, devoid of data. "It could be nothing. It's probably nothing." He met Rodney's startled gaze.
"But what if it's not nothing, John. And why? What possible reason could there be to–"
"Don't know. Let's see if there is an intruder first, shall we?" He glanced down at his watch. "Shit. I'm late. Gotta go. Keep me posted!" He sprinted from the room.
Moira Sheppard sighed. She sat on the ramp to a Jumper. A picnic basket loaded with food was next to her. Next to that sat a cooler full of beverages. Along with a blanket, a few towels. She glanced at her watch, impatiently glared at the other ships. She had been waiting nearly forty minutes now, but there was still no sign of John. She stood. Walked down the ramp. Closed the bulky blue sweater over her, concealing the visible baby bump, her fuller hips and breasts. "Evan!" she called stridently.
Evan Lorne almost dropped the wrench he was holding. He emerged from the belly of a Jumper, smiled and moved to her. Olive BDUs messy. He wiped a spot of grease from his cheek. "Moira." He glanced past her at the ship. The supplies waiting on the ramp to be loaded. Or unloaded he wasn't sure. "Going somewhere?"
"I was. I've been stood up, apparently. Can you come with me? I need to get out of the city, just for a few hours," she complained.
"The colonel stood you up? I find that hard to believe," Evan noted.
"Do you see him?" She gestured expansively around the Jumper bay. "It's been forty-five minutes now! And not even a word from him! Please, Evan, I've got a lovely lunch all packed and ready to go. I've got beer," she added with a smile.
"If it was up to me, then yes, Moira, we'd already be gone. Beer and all. But I can't just–"
"Of course you can!" She took his arm, led him up the ramp. "Grab that, please. Just a quiet lunch on the mainland. Don't worry about John. Apparently he's too busy right now to even notice if we slip away. Please, Evan."
He sighed. "All right...I can at least load this for you." He carried the basket and cooler into the ship, shaking his head, amused.
"Thank you, Evan. And you can fly the ship, right? Of course you can," she insisted. "It will be lovely, just the two of us. And I'll try not to talk too much science, okay? We can talk about that intern you were dating, what's her name?"
"Huh? Oh, that didn't last. I'd rather talk science," Evan quipped over his shoulder.
"Really?" Moira asked, causing him to laugh. She smiled. "Okay, then, major, just remember you said that. I can talk about science for hours." She sighed. "Makes a change from baby talk."
"Now that's funny," Evan remarked. "Maybe I'd prefer baby talk. No, I wouldn't."
"Moira!" John was sprinting across the Jumper bay. Long legs pumping in the gray pants. Black t-shirt molded to his lean torso, arms bent as he ran to her. He slowed, seeing her on the ramp. Evan behind her.
"Looks like you don't need me now," Evan remarked, ready to depart.
"No. Prep the ship." She pushed him into the vehicle, walking up the ramp. Turned as John watched, suddenly sped towards them. She held up a hand as his boot hit the ramp, effectively stopping him. "No, colonel. I've found a pilot, thank you."
John smiled. "Hilarious, Moira. Sorry. I got involved in–"
"Don't care. I don't care what you got involved in, or why you are so damn late for our lunch date, colonel. Evan is going to take me now," she stated. Serious.
"Oh he is, is he?" John asked, looking past her. "Major!"
"Understood, sir." Evan headed to the ramp.
"No!" Moira stood between them. "Evan's taking me, John. He has kindly agreed to go with me to the mainland since you couldn't be bothered."
John frowned. "I was trying to explain, Moira. I got stuck in a meeting and then I had to see Rodney about stuff, okay?"
"No, it's not okay, John. Maybe next time, huh?" She glanced back at Evan. "Prep the ship, Evan. I'm hungry. Let's go!"
Evan looked past her. "Sir?"
"Never mind him!" She turned back to John who was watching, alternately amused and irritated. "And don't you dare pull rank on him, colonel. I'll meet you when I feel like it. We're going and that's an end to it!"
John met Evan's gaze. Nodded. Looked back at his wife. "Just be back in exactly one hour, major. One."
"Two hours, colonel," she argued, "and don't you dare–"
"Colonel Sheppard to the conference room," sounded a voice on the PA, interrupting.
John swore under his breath. "Damn it! Look, Moira, if you could wait maybe half an hour I–"
"No! I'm tired of waiting, colonel. If you can't make time for your wife, your pregnant wife then I will find someone who can!" She seemed near tears, but glared at him. Turned. "Let's go, Evan! Now!" She turned back, shooed her husband off the ramp. Began to close it.
John stumbled off it, not sure if she was genuinely upset or just suffering a surge of hormones. "One hour, major!" he ordered. "And not a hair out of place! Understood?"
"Yes, sir. I'll make sure she wears a hat," Evan quipped. "Moira, up front, please."
Moira closed the ramp. Moved to the front of the ship and took the co-pilot's seat. "Thank you, Evan. I really need to get out of here for awhile and if Colonel John Sheppard can't be bothered to even spend a little time with me then he can go–"
"I'm sure he'd rather be with you than in some meeting," Evan soothed, glancing at her. "Are you okay, Moira?"
"Yes." She wiped her eyes. "Sorry. Damn hormones."
He smiled. "Atlantis, this is Lorne. Jumper two is a go. Open the bay doors."
"One hour, major." John's voice came over the comm loud and clear. Slightly irate.
"Yes, sir," Evan agreed, glancing at Moira again. She was leaning near the comm.
"Don't you have a meeting, colonel?" she snapped. "Sheppards out!" She shut off the comm. Annoyed. "Ignore him."
Evan smiled. "I can't. He's my superior officer, Moira. Not to mention your husband."
"Don't remind me," she sulked, staring at the viewport.
