WAITING.
Rating: G, series will probably be PG-13.
Characters: Atlantis, Elizabeth Weir (others to follow, no main OC's)
Summary: In the years between the Alterans' Exodus to Earth and the Coming of the new people, Atlantis waits.
Author's notes: This is the first ficlet in a longer series I'm planning. The series will center on the main team as well as Evan Lorne, who will play rather a large role. Please let me know what you think.
She had laid resting for so long; down in the impenetrable darkness. The only soul who She'd had to keep her company had long since gone to rest herself and wouldn't be likely to wake again.
The woman had been older the last time she had awoken – noticably so. Atlantis would have made a few suggestions as to how the female designated 'Elizabeth Weir' might have prolonged the time she could have stayed in stasis before expiring, but all systems were running on less than minimal power, only a fraction of what Atlantis would need to perform the nescessary computations and activating a consol so the woman could read the results.
Atlantis had early on deducted that this woman was a descendant and not a citizen. A 'human' as She'd heard them called by the Magisters. The descendants could not hear her – much less interact with her systems. Even so, Atlantis had taken some small confort in the occasional presense of a living being within her walls. The woman Elizabeth only came alive four times in the many centuries of submersion: two times to see to a small fluctuation in the makeshift one-as-three converter and twice to rotate expired potentia, but just the distant ecchoes of life that reached Atlantis in her own slumber was enough to keep her adhering to her new acting primary directive: wait.
It had been harder after the last of the three potentia was locked into the circuit and the woman Elizabeth went back to her rest for what would be – barring unforseen circumstances - the last time. Cold and darkness fell and was only releived by the faint vibrations of whalesong against the shield; still, Atlantis was patient. Janus, Primus Magister, had made it clear that someone would come eventually. He had not input any data as to who they would be, only that they would not be Wraith and incorporated an imperative into her systems that she not hurt them.
One day someone would come and, until that time, Atlantis would make music from the rolling of the deep currents and the slow percussion of tectonic plates and wait. And wait...and wait.
TBC