Welcome to the final installment of the Will Trilogy. Couldn't escape the voices in my head anymore, and had to get it down on paper.We're pretty far off canon here, so if you haven't read 'The Will of Jennifer Keller' or 'Where there is a Will' it might be worth taking a read.If you have read them, then you have my gratitude.We pick up our story a couple of months after the revelation that Jennifer is the Herald, just as the Herald's Journey is about to begin.Come along for the ride.Give it a chance.And review if you can to let me know you are out there.Would love your feedback. –Kalli (PS – I'm not a medical professional, scientist, or soldier.You may need to suspend some disbelief) Here we go...
"What.. is this?" Jennifer asked while Sam and Lorne smiled.
"It's your new uniform," Sam explained.
"I have a uniform," Jennifer reminded them. "A whole set of them."
"Yes," Lorne answered, "you do, but they are yellow stripes."
Jen nodded at the obvious.
"Because I am medical personnel."
"But not right now, and there is no official Herald designation category, so we had them make one for you," Sam said as she handed the stack of clothing to Jennifer.
Purple. Apparently the Herald color was purple. It was a bunch of purple t-shirts, tank tops, and uniform jackets and tops with a deep purple strip running across the back. Jennifer looked at the items.
"Was this really necessary?" Jennifer asked them dubiously.
"Lorne wanted to get baseball hats made. This is way better."
"That's not what I was saying," Lorne protested.
"You wanted to have Team Herald hats made. True or False?"
Lorne moved closer to Jennifer. "Don't listen to her. Her memory can be a little wonky."
"What was that, Major?"
"Nothing, ma'am."
The banter made Jennifer laugh. It was taking some of the anxiety about starting the Herald's Journey in earnest and channeling it into something else. Anything else. She had begged them to let her do this. She couldn't be the reluctant one.
Jennifer made Lorne avert his eyes and pulled off the grey shirt she wore with the yellow tripe and replacing it with the new one.
Time to be the Herald.
Even if she didn't know entirely what that meant.
"There," Lorne said when he was allowed to turn back around. "That's more like it."
The rest of Team Herald entered the large room in an out of the way location. Close enough to be easy to get to, but off the beaten path so that people wouldn't wander over by accident. The room had been secured to only open for people assigned to the Herald Mission, and the room had been organized with a makeshift team meeting table, and storage space and workstations for research and testing.
It had taken a while to get organized. After the return from Keltiga , and the public wedding celebration for Ronan and Jen, they all took a deep breath. Jennifer needed it more than anyone. But then the draw of the Journey kicked in, and planning started in earnest.
Then there was the matter of personnel. Given the stakes and the circumstance, a Herald mission couldn't be like any other mission.
Then they had to come to some agreement with SGC and the IOA on how this would work.
They lost weeks in that part of the process alone.
But they were finally ready.
If the rest of the missions worked like Keltiga, once the team was through the Atlantis gate for a Herald world, they were on their own. There was no way for Atlantis to send back up. That made for some extra planning. They would likely make first contact and have to make decisions without a chance to discuss it as a group, and so some Rules of Engagement needed to be laid down. It was Sam who kicked off the meeting.
"Since we don't know how many Journey worlds there are, or how many times we will need to go to any particular place, a schedule is sort of useless. Colonel Sheppard signed off on a list of personnel that will make the pool the team is chosen from. First contact will be teams of eight. Jennifer and Ronon always gate together. No exceptions."
The room already knew that. Jennifer had made it clear she wanted Ronon on every mission. Ronon had made it very clear, too.
"We will plan for Teyla to take every mission she is available for. Sheppard, Lorne, and Abatello – only ever two of you at a time at most. Someone has to keep an eye on the city."
The men all nodded their head.
"We'll take two marines to round out the team. Meyers and Matthews will be primary, and we have four others that are approved to rotate in if needed."
"Scientists?" Zelenka asked.
"Not on first contacts. We'll bring science support for the return mission to any location."
McKay pouted.
"We have no idea what is on the other side of these gates, so alert. Cautious. Observant. On missions, Dr. Keller is the Herald. The less they know about her and the more shrouded in mystery she is the better that will work for us, we think. No Jennifer. No Doc. Herald."
Everyone nodded.
"Nice shirt, Herald," Matthews said dramatically, eliciting laughter from the group and a genuine smile from Jen.
"Our goal is three days for first contact. Get there, get the lay of the land, meet and greet and then home. I image second contact for any Herald world will be determined by complexity and circumstance. Did I miss anything, Colonel?" Sam asked, deferring to John.
"Based on our experience with Keltiga, it's important that Dr. Keller has the authority in the group. If a situation goes tactical for any reason, you better be listening to the military lead, but short of that, Doc calls the shots."
"Right. Gate time tomorrow is 1100 hours. Major Lorne is military lead for the mission. See everyone then."
The group filed out, Jennifer grabbing her new stack of clothes and heading back to her quarters to deposit them. Sheppard and Lorne loitered just a few minutes until everyone but Sam had left.
"We ready?" John asked her.
"As ready as we're going to be. Jennifer has been ready, then not ready, and working her way back again. I think the best thing is to kick this off and see what happens."
John and Evan agreed.
"Have you heard anything from SGC about Dr. Feist?" Lorne asked Sam.
John's face tightened at the name, and Sam shook her head.
"No. She's just gone."
John's frustration wasn't far beneath the surface.
"How exactly does one go missing from a Military Prison? Has anyone figured that out?"
"With help," Sam answered. "I spoke to General O'Neill yesterday. Speculation on Air Force side is that she had inside help."
"Who would help her?" Lorne exploded. "She plays mental games with our CMO and with a top-notch marine – O'Neill's godson, by the way - screws it up, puts their lives in danger, and someone helped her escape?"
"It has IOA written all over it," John said. "Maybe the Staunton/ Jarrick mission wasn't as rogue and unsanctioned as they insisted."
"They'll find her," Sam assured the men.
()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()
"I can feel them look at me differently," Jennifer said uncomfortably.
Ronon didn't bother to look around. He never lost the habit of being hyper-aware of his surroundings. He knew where everyone was without having to turn his head. And he knew that many glances were being directed at them while they ate their meal. So he just kept looking at Jennifer.
The real Journey of the Herald started tomorrow. She had been anxious to get the trips going, wanting to speed up preparations and a rough gate schedule and get the journey underway. Now that she had what she asked for, it appeared that desire had changed. She was anxious; withdrawn from most, except Ronon, who by sheer force of love and will kept her close.
"It isn't you."
He saw her furrow her brow in either deep thought or disagreement.
"What else could it be?" she asked.
"They don't look at you any different. The difference is in themselves."
His explanation hadn't helped. She didn't look convinced, so he explained.
"That table behind me – that's a table of soldiers who weren't chosen. Some of them have gone on missions with you since you arrived. They laughed with you; consider themselves friends. But they weren't the best. Only the best were chosen. Not getting assigned to Team Herald, or whatever Lorne is calling it, tells people something about themselves, not about you."
The reference to Team Herald made Jennifer crack a smile.
"That table over there is some of your staff. They worked side by side with you and never knew. They didn't see your distress when Jarrick was here, they didn't figure out there was a gene that made you different; they didn't help you when Abatello took you. It isn't you that are different to them - they fear they are different to you."
Jennifer's eyes drifted to a table far to their right, landing on Sheppard and Lorne in a serious conversation.
"They should be the least affected, but they seem so tense," Jennifer noted.
"Because there is only one Herald. There is no completing the Journey if anything happens to you. There is no getting back to Atlantis if anything happens to you. There is no defeating the Wraith if anything happens to you."
"But they have always done that. They've always protected me, always brought me home. Why would tomorrow be any different?" Jennifer protested.
"They are asking something above and beyond of you, and they don't want to let you down."
He said nothing else to give her time to consider his words. They disposed of their trays and made their way back to their quarters.
"How about you? Do you feel any different?" she asked him.
"Not at all," he said with complete confidence.
"Oh yeah?"
"You were already the only you in this or any other universe. I'd already give anything to keep you safe, do anything to find you, kill anyone that would harm you. So tomorrow we go through the gate, and nothing will have changed."
"I love you, Ronon," barely made it out before she crushed her body into his, demanding to be held and reassured without words. And he did. He held her, rubbing his strong hands against her shoulder blades. He would do anything to protect her; anything to keep her safe.
()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()
Banks watched the comings and goings in the mess hall. Just like every meal for his first two weeks on Atlantis, he carefully scanned the room.
Finding people in this city was actually harder than he thought, especially if they were assigned to the secretive Herald missions that were about to dominate the mission schedule. Hard to get good face time with his superior officers and make a good impression. Hard to find time to scout the alien everyone said would kick his ass in training.
Hard to find his target.
His instructions had been very specific: getting it right was more important than getting it done quickly. He was to wait until the perfect opportunity presented itself. He would likely only get one chance. He had to get them alone. Hard to do when you barely see someone, and when you do, they are always surrounded.
He shrugged his shoulders and sat down with members of his squad. The money was already in his bank account. He had all the time in the world.