A/N: Takes place in late Season 3, sometime between "Tao of Rodney" and "Sunday." This is my first SGA fic, so feedback is greatly appreciated! Review and I'll love you forever.
It could be said that the Ardonians were a very meticulous people. It could also be said that they were experts on wasting time. Dr. Rodney McKay seemed to like the second wording better, and demonstrated this by repeating it often as SGA-1 waited for their hosts to finish preparing for their entry to the half-ruined stone structure nearby.
"They do not believe anything should go to waste; it is very deeply ingrained in their culture," explained Teyla patiently as the scientist stood fuming. "The plants that have grown over the entrances to the Pergatum have many uses for the Ardonians."
Rodney needlessly readjusted the settings on his life signs detector for the hundredth time. "It's just too bad they waited to do their weeding for when we actually have something important to look at."
"Might have something important," came Sheppard's voice. He emerged from behind the corner of the large stone building, still lugging the strange scythe-like tool the Ardonians were using the clear away the overgrowth. "I remember you saying that the energy readings could be just any old power source, with a slight chance of being a ZPM."
"Well, yes, but that's not the point." Rodney waved a hand at Sheppard dismissively, not bothering to look up from his scanner. "The point is that at this rate, by the time we actually get in there the power source will be used up and we'll die of old age."
Sheppard only grinned at him. "It'd go a lot faster if you helped us instead of complaining; Ronon's already cleared half the building, by himself." He held out the scythe, which was nearly as tall as McKay. "Well, not a lot faster. It'd at least give you a much-needed workout."
Rodney simply shot the Colonel a glare, clutching the scanner possessively and eyeing the scythe with disgust. "I'll leave that to the rest of the grunts, thank you."
It was at that moment "the rest of the grunts" chose to approach. Ronon was with them, carrying his scythe over his shoulder as if it were a broomstick. "Don't worry, McKay. After your training with me tomorrow, work like this'll seem like nothing."
McKay paled. "That's tomorrow already? I...that is to say, there isn't-- I mean, Katie Brown-- yes! I have a date with Katie, afraid I can't come--"
"Katie's back on earth visiting family, McKay; that one won't work today," interrupted Sheppard. Ronon simply gave one of his I-love-watching-you-squirm smirks.
One of the Ardonians cleared his throat. "The way is open now, friends," he said with a hesitant smile as he brushed the dirt from his hands into the planter lining the path. "Please, be careful. No one has entered the Pergatum for many years."
"Got it," replied Sheppard. "Thanks for the help."
"I must assist with the storage of the karren vines we have gathered. You may enter now, but please do not touch anything until we can come to assist you."
McKay shifted at this, obviously fighting the urge to scoff, roll his eyes, or comment on the preposterous idea that he would need any assistance.
"Thank you for your welcome and your help, Synde. We are very grateful." Teyla dipped her head with her hands clasped under her chin, mirroring the Ardonian custom. Synde and the other workers repeated the gesture before beginning to gather the vine-filled sacks and working tools.
It took only a moment for excitement to replace Rodney's impatience. He rushed heedlessly inside with eagerness rivaling a child on Christmas. His excitement proved infectious, and it was no wonder.
The Pergatum, or court of cleansing, as Weir said the Ancient roughly translated to, stretched out in murky shadows before them; by some trick of architecture it seemed far more vast than it appeared from the outside. The lofty, vaulted ceiling recalled the Gothic cathedrals of Europe. Stone pillars of varying height rose to meet or fall just short of the ceiling, inlaid with a strange metal that gave a weak flourescant glow in the dimness.
All of this garnered the least of their attention, though. A skylight in the very center of the hall laid a pool of green-flecked light beneath it, in which rose a tall statue of a robed woman. The carven eyes were closed and face serene; one stone hand was held out beckoningly and the other held a sword at her side, point downward. Piping and chutes twirling around its base and sides indicated it was once a fountain, but the dust and caked grime seemed to have been dry for centuries. McKay was at the statue in a flash, stopping just short of touching it.
"Oh, this has to be it! Just look at it; usually the Ancients wouldn't put this much art into a power source, it's got to have some other purpose. If I could just get some readings--"
"Rodney, the Ardonians may know useful information about what is here," Teyla reminded. "We had best wait for them."
"Oh, right, 'cause the Beverly Hillbillies here are going to teach us how to best use picks and shovels and--" he motioned expansively with his hands, "--and giant scytheblades to operate Ancient technology." There was no real bite behind his words, though, and he found a reasonably comfortable stone ledge to sit on.
"It is pretty cool," Sheppard commented with a shrug; he didn't bother to hide a smug expression as he waited for the highly predictable response.
"Cool? Cool? You never cease to amaze me with your gift for understatement, Colonel. This is obviously Ancient technology mixed with medieval workmanship. As little as I care about the whole culture-research thing this is not something that happens often, or at all for what we know. I mean, who knows what we could find out from this place?"
Another indifferent shrug. "Whatever it is, I'm sure it'll be cool, too."
A voice echoing in from the doorway ruined Sheppard's chance to see if the scientist would rise to the bait a second time. "Excuse me, Colonel Sheppard, but Regent Therell wishes to discuss a few small details of our relations with the Lanteans before you begin. Come this way, please?"
Sheppard grimaced the moment Synde's back was turned. "It'd probably be best if you came too, Teyla. I heard this Regent Therell guy isn't the easiest to talk to."
A smile tugged at Teyla's mouth, but she nodded gravely. Before leaving, Sheppard glanced back at McKay, who was happily munching on a Power Bar. "Ronon, keep an eye on him--and if he tries anything, make sure to add stick fighting to his training tomorrow."
"Oh, ha ha ha ha," Rodney scoffed around a mouthful of Power Bar.
One of the first things Teyla learned to do as a negotiator was to read the faces of those she spoke to. It was a useful skill, and in far more than negotiation; it allowed her to see through John's careless facade, Rodney's hostile bluster, Ronon's brooding silence.
But as Regent Therell greeted her and Sheppard and introductions were made, she found herself unnerved. He was a tall, thin man approaching old age, with a tanned face and dark hair peppered with gray. Callouses on his hands and muscles that time hadn't yet withered showed Teyla he did not shun work as many leaders she had met over the years did. All of this Teyla would normally take as good signs, but there was a certain blankness to him when she tried to read his face. It was like trying to read a book written in another language. However, years of careful practice allowed her to mask any reaction with a pleasant, open expression.
"We are honored by your people's interest in our land," the Regent began the moment the head-dipping and hand-clasping ended. "And your wish to trade will help us greatly, I am sure. But there must be limits to your exploration. The Pergatum is a sacred place as well as a symbol of our history."
John was wandering around the room, making a show of studying the leaves of the plants potted by the doorway: his sign for letting someone else doing the talking. Teyla folded her hands in front of her and smiled carefully at Therell. "Of course; what limits are these?"
Meanwhile, McKay was hovering around the statue, eyes darting between his scanner and some detail on its surface. He had already been around the room several times, but there was little to hold his interest there; even the patterns of unknown metal on the pillars began out of arm's reach. Repeatedly he was drawn back to the hall's centerpiece, especially the sword held in an outstretched stone hand--it appeared to be made completely of the luminescent metal, as was a small object that formed the sword's tip. Faint lines spidered across the object's surface, outlining what seemed to be panels of various sizes and a pair of clasps that held the object to the rest of the sword.
"Looks like the readings are coming from the sword's tip," Rodney mused, punching a few buttons. "Definitely not a ZPM, too small...but...hm... Looks like the water would've flowed over here, and covered the device completely... What's the point of that?"
Ronon simply continued pacing. It seemed that whenever anyone who wanted to hear Rodney's thoughts as he worked, like Weir or Sheppard, the most reply they would get was, "Working!" But if someone who didn't ask questions was nearby they usually got the audio commentary, albeit a choppy and meandering one. As long as the job didn't involve too much pressure, of course. There were times Ronon could swear Mckay forgot to breathe at times like that.
"Your people may examine any part of the Pergatum they wish, but the Cleansing Guardian may not be touched."
"You mean the statue?" Sheppard spoke up. He had paused in his examination of a thory plant that resembled an earth cactus.
When Therell nodded, Teyla caught John's gaze and saw his eyebrows climb. Leaning forward slightly, she replied carefully, "The artifact you speak of may be of great significance; my people are very eager to study it." She realized "very eager" was a gentle way of putting Rodney's excitement; she did not want to imagine his disappointment at this news.
Therell shook his head. "We have our reasons for this. How much do you know of the Pergatum, Emmagen?"
Teyla lowered her eyes for a brief moment before meeting Therell's again. "Very little, I am afraid; only that its name means 'court of cleansing'. We had hoped our studies today would tell us more of it."
"I will tell you more, then. The Pergatum is named in the tongue of the Ancestors, akin to those your people call Ancients. Ever since their coming, and when their people mingled with ours, the Pergatum was the Ardonian hall of justice. However, it held a power far greater than judgment: it could cleanse a man's spirit and take the evil from him. The guilty would only place his hands into the water beneath the Cleansing Guardian's sword, and he would be made pure and set free." As he spoke, the Regent sat motionless, hands still and face unchanged.
Teyla briefly wondered what Rodney's reaction to these claims would be and hid a smile. "Would those who were let go not repeat their crimes?" she asked.
"Never once," was the firm reply.
"And would you please stop stealing my Power Bars!"
"You brought at least twenty of 'em. Figured you could spare a few."
"They're for emergencies. Like, oh, you know, all those times we get stuck on a planet for some stupid reason and I have to save everyone's lives, again, and those Power Bars end up being the only thing between me and hypoglycemic shock?"
"Right." Ronon began to unwrap the Power Bar and took a large bite.
McKay sighed in exasperation before peering at the screen of his scanner again. Of course, since he had studied the readings scores of times already, there was nothing new to see. He stuffed it into his pack and crossed his arms sullenly across his chest. "We should have waited outside," he murmured. "At least we could have watched the grass grow."
"Could always spar to pass the time," Ronon grinned, receiving only an indignant snort in response.
"Figures that I'd be the one stuck here. When everything goes wrong, it's, 'Fix this impossible problem, McKay! Save our skins for the millionth time, McKay! We're all depending on you, McKay!' But here I am, wasting my time while Sheppard is probably off at some huge welcoming feast. I wonder what kind of food they have here. Probably roasted possums or pickled squirrels or-- What are you doing?"
This question was directed at Ronon as he began to stride purposefully towards the statue's base. Without warning, he pushed the clasps in and gave the device a sharp tug, pulling it off of the sword's tip. Bluish light licked at his fingertips for a moment before the object dulled and faded to a bland silver color. Ronon then shoved it into McKay's hands and brushed his own off on his coat. "Just look at it if it'll keep you quiet."
McKay stared at him, conflicted between shock and admiration and holding the device in his hands as if it were the Crown Jewels. He stammered for a moment before mumbling something about "might as well look at it" before snatching up his scanner and prying a panel off the side.
The Ardonian guide spoke very little on the way back. "Probably so he won't waste air," Sheppard murmured aside to Teyla, who responded with a reproachful but amused look.
The landscape contrasted with the medieval appearance of the Pergatum. Pre-industrial villages and sprawling farms were clustered loosely around the Stargate, dotted with crumbled stone and worn statues as the only reminders of the heritage the Pergatum represented. The walk back to the hall was a long one, and with a twinge of guilt Teyla realized that Ronon and Rodney had been waiting for quite some time, now.
By the time she and the Colonel had reached the Pergatum, the workers who had been carrying the vines away were gone, and every last bit of dust had been swept back into its place. Before Teyla's eyes could adjust to the greenish darkness inside the building, Sheppard spoke angrily beside her.
"Damn it, McKay!"
Device in hand, Rodney stared at them wide-eyed: the proverbial child caught in a cookie jar. One hand snapped up to point at Ronon.