A/N: This is my first story set neither on Atlantis nor Earth. I've enjoyed writing it and inhabiting its little world for a while, which is actually loosely based on the Isle of Man, where I grew up, as it might have been a few thousand years ago and with some added volcanic activity! I hope you enjoy it.
Chapter 1 - Blame
Dr Rodney McKay stepped through the gate and onto yet another new world with a weary sigh. They had emerged onto a rocky clifftop at the end of a promontory, the gate at right angles to the sea. He looked down across the broad curve of the bay below, noting the yellow-stained soil and plumes of smoke denoting volcanic activity, and then further into the distance where green lowlands met the misty blue hills. Jurassic Park meets the Emerald Isle, he thought, but didn't say. Nobody joked any more; things had gone too far for that.
He took out his laptop and wandered away from the gate, in search of a suitable rock to rest on while he worked. He could see Dr Gauthier, the geologist, eagerly taking samples and surveying the deep fissures in the clifftop, as if someone had cut straight into it with a giant saw. Further inland the rock gave way to short, springy turf, which sloped up to meet purple-flowered heather. Teyla stood amongst the heather, keeping watch, Ronon at the edge of the cliff, kept an eye out to seaward.
Sheppard stood by the gate, P90 in hand, eyes alert as always, but expression guarded, inscrutable.
Rodney sat down on a rock, opened his laptop and began studying the confusing readings from his surroundings. Some intermittent seismic activity; not surprising given the obviously volcanic area. He found the data scrolling in front of him blurring as he thought over the last few months; the events that had led to the breakdown of his team. He had sent his request for a transfer this morning; didn't know why he hadn't done it earlier.
It began with the death of a scientist. Dr Alison Treadwell had returned with Atlantis to the Pegasus Galaxy after its sojourn on earth and quickly established herself as a valuable member of Dr McKay's department. Rodney himself came to value her and treat her with a good deal more courtesy than the rest of his scientists, due in part to the firm logic of her reasoning and whip-quick grasp of the ins and outs of any new technology that came her way, but mostly because when confronted with her head of department at his arrogant, self-important worst, she neither backed down, dissolved into tears, nor responded in kind; she simply acknowledged his point of view and then calmly restated her case, often with a small, firm-but-friendly smile. The rush of wind leaving Rodney's sails was almost tangible. The department became a much more peaceful environment; the other scientists regarded Alison as a kind of snake-charmer, her small but purposeful presence guaranteeing a quick resolution to any altercation with the mercurial head scientist.
And then came the mission to PX8-584; and the Katirians with their misguided attempts at nuclear fusion; and the reactor, pushed to its limits and beyond by the impatience and arrogance of government officials. Rodney recalled the shocked faces when he told them their reactor was heading for meltdown, that they'd doomed themselves along with their people, that they'd built their facility in such a way that he couldn't access the circuits that might allow for a safe dispersal of power.
Then Sheppard, studying the reactor plans had suggested that someone small might be able to force themselves into the inner workings of the reactor; somebody with the expertise to effect a miracle. Rodney remembered, for the thousandth time, the crushing inevitability of it all. The tiny crawl-space, through which even Dr Treadwell's petite frame would barely fit, the mounting urgency of the situation, the way Colonel Sheppard's eyes had met Alison's.
"Can you do it?" he'd said. Can you sacrifice yourself and save these people? he'd meant.
Her reply, determined, decisive: "Yes."
He'd nodded, one quick nod, jaw tight, knowing what it meant.
And then she was gone. And she'd done it; she'd diverted the power and the crisis, exposing herself in the process to radioactive steam and sprays of super-heated coolant. She had given her life for others. They couldn't even retrieve her body until the reactor cooled down; and when they did... Rodney couldn't recognise that thing as his colleague, his friend.
McKay couldn't look at Sheppard on the way back to the gate, or later during the debrief. He'd deployed her like a tool that happened to be the right size, like a nanite to do a job nobody else would do. They should have left the Katirians to the consequences of their own foolish actions, departed swiftly through the gate, put the shield up and not given them another thought. But, no, Sheppard had to save the world, except this time it'd been someone else forced into the role of hero; someone else who'd had to pay the price.
Teyla had tried to talk to Rodney, tried to persuade him that the Colonel had done the right thing, made the hard decision that had to be made, but he couldn't accept it. He kept seeing Dr Treadwell's face in his mind, her penetrating hazel eyes which always seemed to compel him to listen to her point of view. She had been Jennifer's friend too, but Jennifer didn't blame the Colonel. She had tried to mediate between them, but to no avail; one full of blame, the other full of guilt, neither would speak.
So, when Rodney had been asked to spend a few months on earth trying to reassemble the weapons chair with some parts recently found by an SG team, he'd eagerly agreed. He needed to get away from Atlantis, from his memories, and from John Sheppard.
He'd returned, nearly three months later, exhausted but self-satisfied, to find the mood in Atlantis still oppressive.
Jennifer told him a mission had gone disastrously wrong. Rebel Genii had killed six of their marines, Sheppard had been captured, held for two weeks; tortured. Ladon Radim's men had found, rescued and returned him, but, according to Jennifer, he had refused to speak about his experiences except in a private debrief with Woolsey. He had been out of the infirmary for over two weeks when Rodney returned and Jennifer refused to give Rodney any details of Sheppard's injuries, but it had been bad. And now the man he'd once been so close to was unapproachable; doing his job, but sullen, closed-off.
Rodney didn't know what he felt any more; it was too much, it had been too long. The easy familiarity was gone. And Sheppard wasn't talking to anyone.
Rodney blinked himself out of his reverie and returned to his scrutiny of the data in front of him. This was an unusual world; mostly covered by water, according to the Ancient database, the land-mass being restricted to a handful of small islands, it nestled in the swirl of a huge asteroid belt. The mission was restricted, for now, to the immediate vicinity of the gate due to the difficulty of penetrating the vast swathe of asteroids, should rescue by the Daedalus become necessary; also due to the fact that this was Sheppard's first mission since Jennifer had cleared him to return to active duty.
The island where the gate was installed had been surveyed by UAV and proved to be just thirty miles long by about ten miles at its widest point. The UAV signal had cut out several times during its flight and when regained showed a significant loss of altitude as if the vehicle had suddenly plummeted; Rodney suspected some kind of interference from unusual minerals within the rocky outcrops on the various hilltops. It certainly wasn't safe to bring a Jumper.
The planet was probably peppered with asteroid craters beneath its placid ocean surface. Tidal waves were a risk. But rare minerals were also a likelihood and that was really why they were here.
Rodney glanced up and noticed Sheppard had released his grip on his P90 and was alternately rubbing the fingers of one hand with the other as if they hurt. Sheppard saw him looking, their eyes met briefly and both turned hurriedly away.
"Colonel Sheppard!" Teyla spoke suddenly into the silence.
"Teyla?" he responded.
"There is something wrong," she said, uncertainly. "This place... it is too silent. There should be seabirds, insects." She stopped and Rodney realised she was right. All he could hear was the blustering wind in his ears and the more distant wash of waves on the shore.
Sheppard looked around as if reaching with his senses for any hint of danger.
"Ronon, UAV," he said, his words curt, as was usual now. He began to dial the gate to check in with Atlantis and return the UAV, which had managed to return to land near the gate despite its erratic flight.
Rodney felt a slight tremor as the gate began to activate. He looked at his screen. It was registering a small increase in seismic activity.
The gate engaged with its usual swoosh, Sheppard spoke briefly to Atlantis and then he and Ronon began to manoeuvre the UAV back through the event horizon.
There was a further, stronger tremor. Dr Gauthier stood up, rock sample in hand and looked around. Teyla moved swiftly towards the gate, calling, "Colonel Sheppard! John! This place is not safe!"
Then there was a convulsion which knocked them all off their feet and a deafening crack as a fissure began to open in the rock beneath the gate.
Rodney's laptop flew out of his hands, and he tried to reach it before it smashed but was flung further down the slope towards the cliff edge by the continuous shaking of the rock beneath him.
Sheppard, scrambling to his feet yelled, "Go through!" and Teyla lurched upright, grabbed Dr Gauthier's arm and they stumbled through the gate. Ronon hesitated, seeing Sheppard head towards Rodney. "Ronon, go!" Sheppard ordered and Ronon backed reluctantly through the event horizon.
Rodney, thwarted by the heaving of the rock beneath him, tried again to rise but was once more flung to the ground. He saw Sheppard coming towards him, then there was an ear-splittingly loud boom and the event horizon sputtered and died.
The clifftop continued to shake. Sheppard couldn't keep upright and tumbled over next to Rodney. They clung to the rock beneath them, riding the bucking ground through surge after surge of tremors.
At last the shaking seemed to lessen and they lay, breathless with shock, not trusting the rock enough to rise to their feet.
Sheppard raised his head, slowly and and then gave a shout of startled dismay.
Rodney looked up and then rapidly got onto his hands and knees, then knelt up, then stood, as if each change of position might alter the incontrovertible truth before him.
Both the gate and the DHD were gone.