The Child of Fear

by Frisco

Atlantis must pick up the pieces after returning to Pegasus from an extended absence in the Milky Way. However, reclaiming their place in the Coalition will not be easy. The galaxy has changed, and not every change is visible.

Teyla stood, keeping her expression neutrally pleasant, and pressed her fingertips together as she bowed first her head and then her entire upper body in the Zhuliskan custom. She held the bow until the ambassador and her entourage passed, relaxing only after the room had cleared.

"Excellent work, Teyla." Richard Woolsey removed his glasses and massaged the bridge of his nose. "We couldn't have done this without you."

"Thank you, Mr. Woolsey."

"Richard, please." He sank onto the bench in the center of the stone railing where they had pled their case for the past fourteen hours. "After six weeks of negotiations, I'm done with formalities." He scrubbed his hands over his face, his shoulders slumped. "God, I'm tired."

Teyla blinked in surprise at the rare admission. "I, too, am ready to return home. We have visited many beautiful worlds, but it has been too long since I have seen my son."

"Where are we today?"

She smiled as she gathered her belongings. "Zhulisk. And Pammoi before that and Q'o before that and…"

"And some other planet before that. We've definitely made the rounds. I've groveled more than even I thought possible." Richard slid a folder into his case, tugged and smoothed his jacket, and followed her out of the communal hall. "At least the Coalition has agreed to give us full member status."

"But not military authority." Teyla nodded to Sergeant Kinsey and Corporal Mayweather who fell in step with them as they headed to the Ancestral Ring.

Richard grinned wryly. "Somehow I doubt Colonel Sheppard will mind."

Teyla shared his smile for a moment before shaking her head. "It is a sign of their continued mistrust." She looked over her shoulder at the village, one of the few untouched by the Wraith's fury during Atlantis' two-year disappearance to the Milky Way galaxy. "I fear we have only begun to feel the repercussions."

But when they arrived home, the chaos of the gateroom filled her with such a sense of normalcy that she couldn't hold back a laugh. Rodney was gesturing wildly, his face scorching red as he ranted at anyone who would listen. Radek had his nose pressed to his monitor. Chuck and Amanda were frowning and pretending to study a display. Airman Simmons and Corporal Wainwright were scrubbing green goop from the gateroom floor while a team of scientists evaluated the walls with various scanners. John was leaning on the balcony overhang, chin propped on one fist while he grimaced at the data pad he held in the other.

"Problems, Colonel?" Richard asked, climbing the main staircase toward Ops.

John glanced up and grinned. "Nope. How were the negotiations?"

"Ever had a root canal?"

"Ah." John glowered at the pad and poked it hard. "Remind me again why I let Lorne transfer."

"You didn't. Carter took him." Rodney glared at the nearest technician. "Run the diagnostic again."

"But-"

"It is not minus twelve in here, no matter which temperature scale you're using. Fix it." Rodney stomped over to John's side. "Imbeciles, every one of them."

"Doctor McKay, please refrain from belittling everyone," Richard said when he passed by on the way to his office. "Don't make me have that discussion with you again."

"It's not belittling. It's the truth," Rodney called after him before turning to Teyla. "What's his problem?"

"He is tired, as we all are." She locked gazes with Rodney and arched a brow. "And you were belittling. Do not make me have that discussion with you, either."

Rodney's eyes widened and he unconsciously rubbed the spot on his arm where her bantos rod usually landed. "Fine."

She turned to John. "Major Teldy will make a fine second-in-command, just as Major Lorne will make an excellent Executive Officer for Colonel Carter."

"Yes, they will." John folded the pad against his chest as he crossed his arms. "How were the negotiations really?"

"Exhausting. Leaving as we did cost us friends, and the extent of our unexplained disappearance has left many worlds doubting our reliability."

"But we're back in," John said.

"Yes, we are."

His eyes narrowed. "But not in charge of the military."

"No." Teyla leaned against a pillar, the weight of failure pressing down on her shoulders. "They are not convinced that we are here to stay."

"You mean the Genii are still running the show?" Rodney asked. "Have they met those people? I wouldn't trust them with my lunch money, much less the security of the entire galaxy against the Wraith."

"The Genii have no love for the Wraith," Teyla reminded him. "They are not as well equipped as Atlantis, but they also have no other ties."

"You know we didn't have a choice," John said.

Teyla squeezed his arm. "I know why you did it, and I supported your decision. However, we did abandon these people when we left and the Wraith realized it. Thousands died in the resulting cullings. We promised to protect them, and we did not. They are not willing to put their trust in us again."

"Can't say that I blame them." John huffed a laugh. "Can't say that I'm disappointed either. It will be nice to go back to exploring the galaxy again."

A yawn caught Teyla by surprise, and she grinned sheepishly. "I believe a hot bath and a good night's sleep are necessary. I will see you tomorrow at staff meeting."

"Don't forget to pick up Torren from the infirmary," Rodney said.

Teyla whirled. "The infirmary? Why?"

"Jennifer is keeping him while Kanaan is away."

"Kanaan is not here?" Teyla rubbed at the headache throbbing between her eyes. "Where has he gone?"

Rodney shrugged and looked at John who said, "New Athos, I think. Halling dialed in and asked to speak to him. After they talked for a few minutes, Kanaan grabbed his stuff and headed out. Some kind of council meeting."

Teyla smiled to herself as she walked down the main stairs toward the infirmary. She had always known that Kanaan had leadership potential. Since they had returned from Earth, he had developed an interest in the governance of their people, especially now that they were joining other surviving cultures on a world previously culled to extinction. A council of leaders from each society had been formed, and Kanaan had been chosen to represent Athos.

She heard her son's giggles before she walked into the infirmary. Captain Ruiz had a tight grip on the back of Torren's clothing and was flying him around the room like a jumper. The captain came to an abrupt stop above a gurney and dropped Torren who bounced on his stomach and shrieked with laughter.

"Look who's here," Captain Ruiz said.

Torren twisted in a way only the young can. "Mama!" He pushed to his knees and reached for her.

"Hello, vrooshen." Teyla scooped him up and kissed him until he giggled and pushed her away. "You do not look like a boy who is ready for sleep."

"No. Fly."

"It seems you share more with Uncle John than just your name." Teyla turned to Ruiz. "Thank you for caring for him."

"Anytime, ma'am. I had a few minutes before my follow-up scan," Ruiz gestured at the heavy plastic boot on his foot, "and Doctor Keller asked me to look after him while she tended to a patient with the flu or something." He wrinkled his nose. "Believe me, I got the better deal. He's a great kid."

"I think so as well, but I am biased," Teyla said. "Please thank Doctor Keller for me when she returns."

Torren talked the entire trek from the infirmary to the transporter and from the transporter to their quarters, his chatter a strange mix of English, Athosian, Satedan, Czech, French, and a few other words that made her decide to limit his exposure to Marines. By the time she bathed and changed him into his sleepwear, his chin was nodding toward his chest. After tucking him into bed, she ran a hot bubble bath for herself, added an extra dose of oils, and lit several candles. She sank to her nose with a sigh as the door opened.

Kanaan entered in silence, his weary face softening when he spotted Torren. He set his bag on the floor and bent to kiss their son's head before glancing her way. "Welcome back."

Teyla waved him into the bathing area and waited until he shut the door before saying, "It is good to be home."

Something intangible flickered over his face and was gone. "Were the negotiations successful?"

"As successful as they can be right now. How was the council meeting?"

Kanaan's smile was wide and genuine. "Good. We finally have a name for our new world – Altera."

"Altera?" Teyla's brows shot up. "In honor of the Ancestors?"

He sat on the edge of the tub, running his fingers mindlessly through the bubbles. "Yes. It is fitting, is it not? So many of their children coming together on one world. Even the Satedans agreed."

Teyla gaped at him. "The Satedans have joined us? Halling said they were uninterested. When did they change their minds?"

Kanaan stood and dried his hands on a towel. "Halling and I approached them again a few days ago. The few who survived the Wraith attack on Belkan relocated to Manara with the rest of their people. We…convinced them of the advantages of joining us."

She studied his face, and for a moment didn't recognize him. "What are you not saying?"

"We have let others chart our course for too long." He met and held her gaze. "We will no longer be terrorized and slaughtered like dumb loprem. We will fight the Wraith to our last breath." He exhaled noisily and began to pace. "Seeing Earth opened my eyes to the possibilities we have. We can achieve everything they have and more given the chance."

"And you are planning to take that chance, regardless of the cost."

"Have we not already paid that cost? How many died in the culling that took your father? How many died at Michael's hand?" Kanaan spit the name with all the bitterness it deserved. "Our people are almost extinct, Teyla. Satedans outnumber us as it is."

"And if we are reckless, the Wraith will destroy us completely." She held up a hand when he opened his mouth to argue. "I do not disagree with you. I left our people years ago to join the fight against the Wraith. But we must be wise when we battle."

"We will be. The Satedans have agreed to coordinate the training of a militia, not just for Altera but for every member world of the Coalition."

"To battle the Wraith will take more than a handful of warriors."

Kanaan glanced away as that inscrutable expression returned. "We have other plans as well." He stretched his arms over his head as a huge yawn overtook him. "Will you be done soon? I reek of tarniq smoke and fried tuttleroot."

Teyla flicked her foot, sending a spray of bubbles over his face. His eyes widened in surprise, and his mouth slowly curled into a smile as he pulled his shirt over his head.

xxx

Ronon slammed the tankard on the table and wiped his mouth on his sleeve. "So, how drunk were you when you agreed to this?"

"I was not drunk," Solen answered as he refilled Ronon's glass. "Knew what I was doing."

Ronon gave him a level stare. "The Solen Sincha I knew would die before getting involved in politics."

"Things change, Ronon. Things have changed." Solen wrapped his meaty hands around the bottle of ale and took a long drink. "I barely escaped the Belkan culling. Most of our people didn't. We're down to less than a hundred now."

"I know that." Ronon stared into his beer as the rage boiled inside. "Wish I'd been there."

"I don't. I'm glad you weren't there." Solen finished the bottle and heaved it toward the wall, a satisfied grin appearing when the glass shattered. "Because we need you now."

Ronon knew that tone. He pushed his glass away and leaned back, waiting. Whatever Solen was working toward wasn't going to be easy. Solen stretched, belched, and opened another bottle, gulping the foam that spewed from the top. Ronon narrowed his eyes as he watched. Patience in Solen was as unusual as silence in McKay.

"You're a leader, Ronon, and we need leaders."

"No."

Solen snorted a laugh. "You don't even know what I'm going to ask."

"Doesn't matter."

"It might." Solen glanced around the tiny tavern before locking eyes with Ronon, his customary humor vanishing completely. "You fought the Wraith for years as a runner. You know their tactics and their weaknesses." Solen's eyes blazed. "Teach us."

"Teach?" Ronon sat up straight. "Teach who?"

"The militia we are forming." Solen looked over his shoulders again and leaned forward. "We aren't going to let anyone have control over us anymore. We want to defend ourselves." A calculating smile appeared. "And we want the best to show us how to do it."

Ronon cocked his head to the side, studying his old friend. Solen's gaze was too steady, his movements too controlled – he was hiding something. "What else?"

Solen frowned. "What else? Isn't that enough?"

"I mean, what are you not saying?"

"So much," Solen waved his arms wide, "this world couldn't hold it."

Ronon fought the urge to roll his eyes. Solen's ability to exaggerate was trumped only by his ability to drink, but experience had taught Ronon that some nugget of truth was usually hidden in the bluster. Uncovering it took time.

"This is our chance, Ronon. Our chance to avenge Sateda, to rid ourselves of the Wraith. A chance for peace and safety." Solen chugged the rest of his beer and tossed the bottle at the fire, making the flames dance. "A chance for future Satedans."

Ronon folded his arms over his chest. "What future Satedans? Our people are blending with the other refugees on your new world. Our ways will be lost."

"But our people will live." Solen's face knotted in pain. "And they will carry Sateda in their hearts."

Ronon suspected he was getting close to that nugget. "Who was she?"

Solen jerked back. "Who?"

Ronon kept his gaze gentle as he waited. For a moment, raw grief ravaged Solen's expression. Then it was gone, replaced with pure hatred.

"Kera died in the Belkan culling," Solen spat. "She was carrying our first child."

Ronon closed his eyes, knowing how empty condolences were. "And you want to fight in their memory."

"Yes!" Solen took a deep breath and waved at the servant girl. "Isn't that why you do it?"

Ronon nodded. "But you need to know it won't get rid of the hurt. It only makes it worse."

Solen ordered two plates of food and another round of drinks, and then said, "I don't care. I have to do something. Will you help us? Help me?"

The reasoning was sound, but something in Ronon's gut told him he didn't have the whole story yet. "Let me think on it."

Solen's lip curled in derision. "You mean, let you ask your masters on Atlantis for permission."

Ronon leaped to his feet and planted his hands on the table, leaning into Solen's face. "I have no masters."

Something flickered behind Solen's eyes, but he smiled and held up his hands in surrender. "Sorry. I know they are your friends. It's just you used to be a lot more decisive."

"You mean reckless." Ronon sat down and stabbed a fork into the plate of steaming meat and vegetables the girl set before him. "Like you said, I learned a lot when I was running." He took a sip of beer. "My people can help, you know."

That flicker again. "Your people?"

"Atlantis. They've got guns and stuff." Ronon grinned. "You should see the explosives."

Solen grinned in return and held up his bottle. "Here's to friends with explosives."

"Here's to the end of the Wraith."

Ronon smacked his glass against Solen's and gulped until it was empty. He would talk it over with Sheppard, but he already knew his answer. He would train not just a militia, but warriors, and together they would bring the Wraith to their knees.

xxx

John bolted upright, heart pounding, choking back the scream exploding inside his chest. He blinked the sweat out of his eyes as he gasped for air and slumped back on the bed when his quarters came into focus. Damn that dream; it always ended the same: Ronon grinning wryly at Todd as he flips the detonator switch that destroys Michael's lab.

The dreams had started after his little trip into the future, thanks to Hologram McKay's vivid storytelling. But after rescuing Teyla and killing Michael, the dreams had stopped. Came with less frequency, anyway. As John rolled out of bed and stumbled to the bathroom to splash water on his face, he acknowledged the…weirdness that so much of what McKay had told him had come true – Woolsey running Atlantis, Carter commanding her own ship, McKay and Keller dating, and now Ronon. It was freaky.

And when Ronon left the team last month to train the Coalition militia the dreams returned with a vengeance – Teyla screaming his name as Michael rips the life out of her, McKay growing old and crumbling to dust, but especially Ronon's blaze of glory.

John squinted at his watch – 4:48 in the morning. His alarm was set for 6:00, but he'd never be able to go back to sleep now. He slipped into his sweats and running shoes, grabbed his earwig, and ignored the ache of loneliness as he headed to the east pier alone. He nodded to Corporal Sanderson as she jogged by while he stretched. The engineers had done a fine job with the track they had installed – a six mile course that started at the pier, ran past Weir Tower, between the Grodin and Ford Spires, and down Beckett Alley before looping back through the Athosian Gardens to the pier.

He shook out his arms and legs, bobbed his head from side to side, and trotted down the track to warm up. Muscles humming, he sped up, hoping to clear his mind, but as he found his rhythm, his thoughts continued to roil. The fight to get Atlantis back to Pegasus had been long, and the Lucian Alliance attack had almost derailed it completely. John refused to consider what might have been had McKay actually been allowed to finish dialing the Destiny. As it was, Atlantis would not receive the full staff that had been promised until the Alliance was no longer a threat.

The image from the nightmare had been seared into his brain and, as in his dream, John began to run faster. Legs and arms pumping, chest heaving, sprinting toward something he would never reach. Muscles strained. His heart galloped. Lungs struggled to pull in enough oxygen. But he continued to push himself. Spots filled his vision. His sides cramped. His quads turned to jelly.

"Sheppard, come in."

"Shit." John stumbled to a stop, bracing a hand against the nearest building as he gasped for air.

"Sheppard?"

"What..." John slid to the ground and leaned his head back. "…is it… Rodney?"

"What's wrong with you?"

John closed his eyes. "McKay."

"I need you in Ops."

Alarm raced up John's spine, and he sat up straight. "What's wrong?"

McKay's sigh roared through John's radio. "We're not under attack. I just – Damn it. Hold on." Something metal clanged, and McKay cursed a blue streak then shouted at someone to finish whatever they were doing and get out. "Incompetent… worthless… Sheppard, you still there?"

"Still here, Rodney."

Another metallic crash and a sigh. "Just… get up here."

"On my way."

John pushed to his feet, grimacing as every muscle shrieked its displeasure at the abuse he'd heaped on it. He made his way to the nearest transporter and minutes later strolled into Operations – the completely unmanned Operations control room.

"What the hell?" John glanced around the dimly lit Atrium and catwalks. "McKay?"

"Here." A hand waved from behind a panel. "It's about time."

"Where is everyone?"

McKay peeked over the console. "Sick. That's why I called you. I need some help."

"They're all sick?"

"The flu." McKay stood, holding a coffee cup in one hand and several crystals in the other. "Jennifer says about half the expedition is down with it. The few people I have still functioning are spread thin, and I have to finish reprogramming this panel before our guests show up."

"Fine. What do you need?"

"Keep an eye on environmental controls. We've had several reports of fluctuating temperatures in chem labs. Zelenka is running diagnostics on it but you'll have to adjust it manually until he figures out what's wrong. Oh, and answer any calls that come in."

John studied the consoles that Chuck and Amelia usually manned. Read-outs in Ancient and English scrolled continuously. A warning light flashed, but before he could identify the problem, another one went off. Then the comms panel lit up. John raked a hand through his hair, blew out a breath, and got to work.

Two hours later, he was staring cross-eyed at the display while Zelenka and McKay yelled at each other about fried circuitry and a barren supply inventory. The tread of boots and a gentle throat clearing shook John from his stupor, and he glanced up to find Chuck, surgical mask firmly in place and antibacterial everything in both arms, at his elbow.

"Sergeant."

"Good morning, Colonel. Is Penny still sick?"

John winced as he stood, pressing both hands to his back to work out the kinks. "I don't know who Penny is but if she's night shift, then yes. You got this?"

"Yes, sir." Chuck set a box of tissues and a can of Lysol on the console before pulling out wipes to scrub the chair and controls. "Amelia will be here as soon as Doctor Keller finishes with her."

McKay turned from his project, his face scrunched with worry. "Banks is sick, too?"

Chuck nodded. "The flu."

"Damn it. I'm running out of people. As soon as one gets well, two more come down with it. Jennifer says she's never seen anything like it – knocks you on your ass for days. Before they can get it under control, it mutates and everybody gets it again."

"I know," John said. "The SGC is working on it, too, along with Beckett and Keller. They'll figure it out." He checked his watch and scowled. "The meeting starts in less than an hour."

"Go." McKay gave a dismissive wave to John and turned back to his console. "Try it again, Radek."

"You're supposed to be there, too, Rodney."

McKay's death glare had always been good, but today's was spectacular. "Go."

"Going."

John hurried to his quarters and hit the shower, sighing as the hot water cascaded over his head and shoulders, and down his back, the gentle massage loosening the knots stress had tied. After shaving and donning a fresh uniform, he headed to the Mess for a quick bite. He filled a tray and looked around. Seating was plentiful with so many people ill, but he was slightly depressed to not spot a single person he knew well enough to share a meal with.

"Unc' John!"

John squinted into the dawn that covered the balcony, seeing only silhouettes but knowing the small body that belonged to that squeal was out there somewhere. When he stepped outside, his shin was attacked by a wriggling two-year-old.

"Up!"

"Torren." Kanaan sounded like his patience was at an end. "Be seated."

"But—"

"Torren." One of the silhouettes moved and John's leg was suddenly free. "My apologies, Colonel. Please, join us."

John blinked away the sun's afterimage and took a seat. "Thanks." He grinned at his favorite fan. "How are you, bud?"

"Hungry."

Kanaan shook his head. "Teyla is on her way." He looked at his son. "We are waiting for her."

"She's sick," Torren added.

John paused, a fork of scrambled eggs halfway to his mouth. "The flu?"

"I do not believe so. The symptoms are different." His eyes narrowed, and he frowned as he studied John. "Is something wrong, Colonel? You appear worried."

"It's this damn flu. People keep getting sick. We're short-staffed, and it's beginning to affect city operations."

Kanaan's expression flickered and then he touched Torren's leg. "Be still. She will be here soon." He turned back to John. "I understood that more personnel would be coming soon."

John sighed and sipped his coffee. "Earth is still dealing with the Lucian Alliance threat. The bombing at Homeworld Security really rattled them. Plus they can't seem to find a way to fight this flu."

"Perhaps my people can help."

"How?"

Kanaan sat back, arms folded over his chest, tapping a finger to his chin. "So far, Teyla and I have not become sick. She told me about your reaction to Kirsan Fever a couple of years ago. We could be resistant to the flu as well." He leaned forward, eyes sparkling with intensity. "If you are willing to teach us, we could learn the city's systems so the stations would not go unmanned when someone is ill." He paused, his features clouding. "If the Wraith were to attack while the city is vulnerable…"

John flashed back to the early days, when the Athosians were living on Atlantis and had been falsely accused of colluding with the Wraith. The wound had healed but the scar was still there.

"If you do not wish our help—"

"It's not that." John nibbled on a slice of bacon, not wanting to make the same mistake again. "It's not my decision to make. Let me talk it over with McKay and Woolsey. We may not have enough excess personnel to train you. I'll let you know what we decide."

"Very well. I will also discuss it with Teyla and Halling, as well as the council."

Torren bounced in his seat. "Mama!"

"Good morning," Teyla said with a smile as she pressed her forehead to Kanaan's and caressed Torren's face. "Hello, John. I am pleased you are joining us."

"Hey, Teyla. Are you feeling better?" John asked.

"Much better, thank you." She rested a hand on her stomach, and her eyes widened when she glanced at his tray. "Autress berries?" She swatted Kanaan's arm. "Why did you not tell me?"

Kanaan stared at her back as she hurried to the breakfast line. "She hates autress berries."

xxx

"No, no, no." Rodney fought the urge to shove the woman aside and do it himself. "Look, Mina—"

"Mita."

"What?"

"My name is Mita." She drew herself to her full height, almost to Rodney's shoulder. "Mita."

"Fine. Whatever. How many times do I have to tell you that you can't reroute power through that section? It will overload the conduits."

"You have said it many times yet I still do not understand why."

Rodney opened his mouth then snapped it shut again. Patience, Teyla had said. What he really needed was an IV of caffeine in one arm and antibiotics in the other. His head was stuffy, his chest ached, and he was certain he felt bumps behind his knees, growing by the minute. Probably tumors. He groaned at the thought.

"Are you unwell, Doctor?" Mita asked.

"Yes. Yes, I am." Rodney blew his nose for the hundred and twelfth time that morning, and pinched the bridge of his nose as the jackhammer behind his eyes ratcheted up another notch. "I'm dying and no one cares."

"Dying?" Mita's eyes went wide. "Truly?"

"Well, maybe not at this exact moment. Feels like it, though."

"Should I call Doctor Keller?"

"No," he moaned. "She'll just give me another shot of steroids and tell me to suck it up."

"But if you are ill…"

Rodney huffed a sigh. "Everyone is ill. That's why you're here, remember?"

Her face crumpled. "And I am failing you. Perhaps another could learn faster. I will speak with Kanaan—"

"Then I'd have to spend another month teaching this to someone else." Rodney took a seat when the room began to spin. "Have you been studying the schematics I gave you?"

"You gave me no schematics."

"Of course I did. They are on the tablet…" Rodney glanced at the data pad lying on the console behind them. "…over there." He handed it to her, ignoring her knowing smile. "You have to understand the load balance that the different conduits can tolerate."

While Mita read through the information with practiced ease, Rodney leaned his head back and closed his eyes, fighting the cough building in his chest. When Sheppard had brought Kanaan's offer to the table six weeks ago, Rodney had laughed and gone back to work. Yet as the sickness continued to ravage the expedition, he was forced to consider the option. The SGC was still working on a cure, and they were hesitant to rotate personnel until they were sure this alien bug wouldn't put Earth at risk. The Daedalus and Apollo continued to make supply runs but all contact was over the radio.

Teyla, Kanaan, Torren, Ronon – none of the Pegasus natives had become sick. Rodney's suspicious nature told him that was significant, but he was too foggy, and too busy, to think it through. The damn flu was eating his brain cells.

"Doctor?"

Rodney opened his eyes to find Mita watching him, her face filled with concerned. "What now?" he asked.

She handed him a cup of coffee. "I believe you have a meeting."

He jerked forward and checked his watch. "It's after 9:00. How did that happen?" He snatched the coffee from her hand and downed it in a gulp. "Where is my—"

Mita held out his tablet and another cup.

Rodney grabbed both and staggered toward the door, wondering how he'd fallen asleep and why he hadn't gotten an assistant before now. Well, technically Mita wasn't his assistant; she was a trainee, a good one if he were honest. For someone who'd never used a computer until a month ago, Mita had shown an innate grasp of the concept. She had already mastered communications so they had moved on to some of the more critical systems.

When he reached the conference room, Rodney sat in the first chair he reached and slumped down, propping an elbow on the table and resting his head on it. With red-rimmed eyes and a three-day growth of beard, Sheppard looked as bad as Rodney felt. Woolsey was his normal, buttoned-down self, but his face was waxen except for the red splotches on his cheeks. Only Teyla was the picture of health, her pregnancy adding to her radiance.

Woolsey discretely blew his nose and took a sip of something steaming and likely fragrant, if Rodney were able to smell it or anything else. "Good morning." Woolsey's voice was a gravelly scratch. He took another drink and cleared his throat, but it didn't help. "Doctor Keller will be here shortly, but let's get started. Doctor McKay, how is the training program coming along?"

Rodney didn't bother to raise his head. "Slowly." He glanced at Teyla who gave him an encouraging smile. "The Athosians are adequate, but they don't know the fundamentals."

"What can my people do to improve?" Teyla asked.

"Nothing." Rodney rubbed his temple, trying to wish away the headache. "The people who do these jobs normally are highly educated. They've spent a lot of years learning and working on systems like these – okay, not like these, but with highly advanced technology – and they are barely competent. There's no way your people can catch up at the rate we need them to."

Teyla tapped on her tablet, reading whatever she'd called up. "Would extending their hours be of benefit? Many are working ten-hour shifts. Perhaps—"

"Who do we have off world?" Sheppard's eyes were focused on the doors, his head cocked to the side.

"No one," Woolsey said. "Why?"

"Gate just activated." Sheppard clicked his radio. "Sheppard to Ops. What's going on?" His face knotted and then a smile broke out. "Send him in."

Moments later the doors opened and Ronon strode in. "Hey." He stopped and looked around the table. "It's true then."

"What's true?" Sheppard asked.

"That there's a sickness out of control here." Ronon dropped in the chair next to Sheppard. "You look like shit."

Sheppard sniffed then groaned. "Feel like it. What's brings you to town?"

All traces of humor disappeared from Ronon's face. "Got a problem. We've been hearing rumors about attacks on Coalition meetings. Nothing solid we could follow though. We increased security at the meetings. A couple of our patrols were hit last week. Minor injuries. Then last night a bomb went off during an invitation conference with the Bourjos. Two of Solen's men were wounded."

Teyla leaned forward. "And Solen?"

"Shrapnel in the shoulder. Lost a lot of blood. Beckett's working on him."

Woolsey pulled off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. "Have you tracked down the source of the rumors?"

"Still working on it."

"We don't have anybody we can spare, big guy," Sheppard said. "We're running a skeleton crew as it is."

"Don't need people." Ronon turned to Woolsey. "We need weapons."

Woolsey shook his head. "We can't—"

"Look, like you said, you're running a skeleton crew. I know you don't like it, but right now, my people are the ones providing protection for the Coalition."

Rodney coughed, a deep rattle that ripped at his vocal cords. "What happened to the Genii?"

"They joined the militia." Ronon's eyes gleamed with pride then dimmed. "But whoever is behind this is patient and well trained."

"Wraith worshipers?" Sheppard asked.

"Don't think so. We haven't run into Wraith weaponry."

"Well, who else would be behind terrorist attacks on the Coalition?" Rodney sipped his coffee and grimaced at the thick, cold liquid. "Ew."

"Don't know," Ronon said. "But I'm gonna find out." He looked back at Woolsey. "I need those weapons."

Woolsey sighed. "And I need—"

The doors flew open and Jennifer rushed in. "I apologize for being late." Hair disheveled and dark circles under her eyes, she scurried to a chair and took a deep breath. "I finally discovered something about the flu virus."

"A cure?" Woolsey asked.

Jennifer smiled. "Not yet, but we're close now that we've discovered its origins." Her gaze swept the room. "The virus has been genetically modified."

Woolsey frowned. "What are you saying?"

"The mutations are not natural." She glanced around again. "It's been programmed. To target us."

Rodney sat up straight and gripped the edge of the table when his vision swam. "Are you sure?"

"Positive. I ran the results four times, sent them to the SGC for confirmation and had Carson double check."

"Let me get this straight," Sheppard said. "Someone created a biological weapon, a virus that attacks humans and then mutates before it can be cured."

Jennifer's lips pressed into a thin line. "Not just any humans, Colonel. Humans from Earth."

"Is such a thing possible," Teyla asked.

"Yes," Jennifer said. "There are subtle differences in our bodies' chemical makeup that tie us to the world of our ancestry."

"And someone found a way to target those differences?" Rodney gaped at her. "My God. Do you understand the implications of that?"

Jennifer nodded. "We're lucky they chose the flu."

Ronon looked at Rodney and then Jennifer. "You saying that they could release some kind of virus that would only kill certain people?"

"Exactly." Rodney pushed out of his chair and began to pace. "These… terrorists could release a toxin in a crowd and only kill the Earthlings." He turned to Ronon. "Or the Satedans or Athosians. Anyone really."

"Terrorists?" Teyla asked. "Do you believe the creators of the flu are also responsible for the attacks on Ronon's militia?"

Sheppard exchanged glances with Ronon. "It's possible."

"Makes sense," Ronon added. "Depletes the militia, and it keeps Atlantis' military too thin and weak to help."

"To what purpose?" Teyla rested her hands on her growing abdomen. "Who has reason to destroy the Coalition?"

"And why the flu?" Woolsey asked.

Jennifer's face scrunched in confusion. "What do you mean?"

Woolsey dabbed at his nose. "I mean, why not something lethal? Why not a much deadlier virus like Doctor McKay mentioned. Why just make us sick?"

"And who has the knowledge to do it?" Rodney asked. "Creating a bioweapon isn't something your everyday farmer knows how to do."

Sheppard looked to Woolsey. "We need to find out and stop them before they create something worse."

Woolsey bowed his head for a moment and then turned to Ronon. "What kind of weapons do you need?"

xxx

Teyla tugged her blouse into place and sat back in the bed, allowing the calm of the infirmary to lull her into a light, meditative state, one that was quickly broken when Jennifer returned and pulled back the curtain.

"Everything looks great, Teyla. Your baby is developing exactly as expected and has a strong heartbeat."

Teyla sucked in a quick breath, pressing her hand to her side. "And quite a kick."

"Do you want to know what you're having?" Jennifer asked, eyes shining.

"Yes." Teyla held up a hand. "No. I mean, yes."

Jennifer laughed. "Do you want to have Kanaan here?"

"Kanaan is on New Athos." Teyla glanced away and then looked back with a smile. "I always thought he would be a good leader, and I have been proven correct."

"But he's away a lot."

"I had hoped to share this time with him since we were not permitted it with Torren." Teyla sighed and smoothed her hands over her belly. "But the demands of leadership are great."

Jennifer drew up a chair. "Have you thought about moving to New Athos with him? Not that I want you to leave."

"I know, and I have considered it, especially since I am on leave again from my team. But Mr. Woolsey does not have the time to represent Atlantis as well as govern it. I am the junior Lantean ambassador. Even if I were living on New Athos, I would spend most of my time here."

"And when the baby comes?"

Teyla squeezed her friend's hand. "We can only harvest the field one tava bean at a time."

Jennifer smiled. "Of course. Now, about that tava bean you're having…"

Teyla was still floating among clouds of joy when Richard called her to his office. She smiled as she walked through Ops, nodding to Mita, Joran, Cela, and several other Athosians manning stations. The flu epidemic was finally behind them, but her people had proven so useful that Rodney continued to use them for non-critical functions. Pride filled her at the respect her people had been given from the scientists and technicians of Atlantis who were now available to focus on critical projects and to have occasional days off.

"You wished to see me?"

"Yes, please," Richard gestured toward a chair, "have a seat." He pulled off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. "The Lucian Alliance is rumored to be gearing up for another attack, and the IOA is considering recalling Atlantis."

"They cannot! The Coalition is not strong enough yet to defend the people of this galaxy against the Wraith. Without Atlantis, we will never be free."

"I know. And General O'Neill knows. We just have to convince the IOA. Again." Richard heaved a deep sigh. "And I can do that, but it's going to take days of talks. I've been called back to Earth. I leave in a few hours, but I have too much to do before I go. I can't get away for today's meeting. I need you to go."

"I would be honored to do so," Teyla said. "I am certain the Athosian council can function without me this once."

"As we discussed, we stand against a trade embargo on the Elsee'q. If they choose to not join the Coalition or to provide sanctuary to Wraith worshippers, that is their right as a sovereign world, just as it is the right of the Coalition member-worlds to do business with them or not. I will leave judgments on any other agenda items to your discretion."

"Thank you, Richard." Teyla shifted with as much dignity as she could until she found the right position to leverage herself out of the chair. "I appreciate the trust you place in me."

Richard stood, clasping his hands behind his back. "There's no one I would rather have representing us."

Teyla acknowledged the compliment with a nod and a smile. "Will your trip be long?"

"I expect to be back in a month. I think the talks will last about a week, and then it will take another three weeks to travel back, assuming the Daedalus or Apollo is available." Richard shook his head and gave her a grim smile. "The last time I left Colonel Sheppard in charge…"

"The gate exploded," Teyla finished. "I remember. I will endeavor to keep the city intact until you return."

She glanced out the window at the Wall of Time, as Rodney liked to call it – a collection of time pieces programmed to show the local time of Atlantis' closest allies with the central clock displaying the official Coalition Standard Time.

"I must go," she said. "The meeting begins in an hour. Safe journeys, Richard."

"Thank you, Teyla. Good luck."

After visiting the daycare to arrange for Torren's care for the next several hours, Teyla went to her quarters to don appropriate "ambassador" attire – a top and pants made of Mishakan silk in swirling jewel tones from rare letin shell extract, and a long flowing coat of indigo skirsk hide. She gathered her satchel filled with necessary items – her data pad, a couple bottles of water, a stitching kit, hand cleanser, hairbrush, throwing knife, heartburn tablets, a bag of rapoi nuts, two chocolate bars, and lip stain – and slipped on her sandals, checking her appearance before heading to the gate room where John and a team of Marines were waiting.

John arched a brow at her. "You look formidable."

"Then I have achieved my goal." Teyla smoothed her jacket as the dialing sequence began. "Did you have much time to prepare for Mr. Woolsey's departure?"

"I was there when he got the call during the morning data burst. And I was planning on going before he told me you were taking his place." John grinned at her. "You used to be more subtle."

Teyla sighed as she fell in behind the Marines. "I know. Pregnancy does not agree with my brain."

As they emerged on Yorliba, Teyla lifted her face to the warm autumn sun and breathed in air thick with rich loam, ripening fruit, and freshly-cut wheat. She bowed her head for a moment, centering herself, and followed John toward the hastily constructed Coalition meeting hall where the ambassadors from the other seventy-two member-worlds were milling.

After exchanging pleasantries with those nearest her, Teyla took a seat at Atlantis' table while John moved to talk to Ronon as the Marines fanned out to sweep the area. She scanned the room, nodding to those she knew, and offering a smile to Halling who stared back at her in surprise. Pressia, the ambassador from Manara, stumbled slightly as she passed and heaved her bags onto the adjacent table. She gave Teyla a quizzical look, glanced to Halling, and sat down.

"Peace and prosperity to you, Pressia," Teyla said.

"Prosperity and peace to you, Teyla Emmagan." Pressia shuffled through the meeting agenda. "I was not expecting to see you today. Is Mr. Woolsey unwell?"

"He had other matters to attend today. I see Manara's proposal to establish a Coalition trade currency is on today's agenda."

"Yes. I am to speak before the Council." Pressia flashed a hesitant smile. "I am nervous."

"You have no need. Your arguments have always been clear and logical. You will do fine."

"Ambassador Pressia," Council Chief Brin called. "May we speak?"

"Of course."

As Pressia moved to the speaker's podium, Teyla read through the rest of the meeting agenda. The chatter in her earpiece increased, and she turned to look at John as he and Ronon moved to the doorway to speak with the Marine team leader. John's eyes blazed. He leaned forward, his expression intense while he questioned the Marine.

A warning tingle raced up Teyla's spine.

"Teyla."

She tapped her earpiece. "What is wrong?"

"Scanners just picked up a trace of explosives. We need to clear the building."

"Very well. I will notify the council chief."

Teyla stood and headed to where Chief Brin and Pressia were deep in conversation. She never heard the explosion.

xxx

The blast knocked John over a table and into the wall. Ears ringing, he staggered to his feet and shook his head to clear it.

"Sheppard!" Ronon grabbed his arm to help steady him. "You okay?"

John wiped at the warm trickle on his face, his hand coming away stained bright red. "Yeah. What… Oh, God."

The meeting hall was a disaster – paper and dust particles floated in the air, splintered wood was embedded in the walls and floor, and several people were lying on the ground, blood pooling around them.

"Teyla!"

While Ronon shouted orders to his militia, John raced to Teyla's side. She was face down, unconscious, a shard of what used to be a table sticking out of her thigh. He checked her pulse – slow and steady - and ran a hand down her neck and spine, not feeling anything unusual but not wanting to take chances.

"I need some help here!"

Ronon appeared at his side. "Is she breathing?"

"Yeah, but she's bleeding pretty bad."

"Specialist Dex!" A teenage girl dashed up. "A fire has started." She gestured toward the far side of the hall where smoke was billowing from an interior room.

"Damn it. Get everyone out," Ronon ordered, kneeling down. "We've got to move her, Sheppard."

John's radio clicked. "Gate's secure, Colonel," Morrison reported.

"Dial home, Lieutenant. Tell them we need as much medical assistance as we can get. And let Keller know I'm bringing Teyla to her."

"Will do, sir."

John scooped Teyla in his arms and headed toward the gate, forcing himself to move slowly, his cargo too precious to risk a stumble. Behind him, he heard Ronon organizing the movement of the wounded to safety by one of his units and the systematic sweep of the building by another, while villagers hurried to protect their town from the nearby flames.

Thankfully, the gate was on the outskirts of the village. John stepped through, knowing the medical team waiting for them would put the color back in Teyla's face. As he anticipated, nurses swarmed them when they emerged. He laid Teyla on her side, careful not to touch the shard. A handful of them rushed toward the infirmary. The rest turned to him with expectant faces.

"There was an explosion." John glanced up to find Woolsey on the catwalk, his face ashen. "At least ten others injured."

Doctor Gardner nodded. "We'll take care of them."

John stared down the hallway where Teyla had been taken and then looked to Chuck. "Dial it up."

McKay hurried up, tac vest in one hand, tablet in the other. "What happened?"

"Bomb."

"Bomb?" McKay shrugged on the vest and followed John through the gate. "How did a bomb get past security?"

John shoved back the rage boiling in his chest. "I don't know. Yet. I've had a team there since yesterday and Ronon's been there for a week. We checked every person in that village."

"Teyla?"

"Keller's working on her. She seemed stable."

"And the baby?"

John slowed, biting his lip as he glanced at McKay. "I don't know, Rodney. It was a pretty hard blast. I don't know what kind of internal damage it could have caused."

McKay busied himself with his tablet. "I'll figure out who's responsible."

But hours of work yielded nothing. The building had burned almost to the ground by the time they arrived. None of the delegates or villagers recalled seeing anyone unfamiliar. McKay fiddled with the scanner that had detected the explosive, but he couldn't narrow down the type of explosive or the location.

"You got anything?" John asked Ronon.

"No. By the time we got everyone out and the building secure, the fire was out of control."

McKay glanced up from the scanner. "Did you find any parts of the bomb?

Ronon shook his head. "Still don't understand how they got past us."

"You must've missed something."

"Like what, McKay?" Ronon snapped. "My team scoured this place when we got here and searched every trader who came through the gate."

McKay's head shot up. "Just the traders?"

"What are you thinking, Rodney?" John asked.

"What about these people?" McKay waved at the delegates sitting in clumps around them. "Did you search them?"

Ronon frowned at him, folding his arms over his chest. "You think one of the ambassadors is trying to destroy the Coalition?"

"I think anybody can be coerced." McKay took a step back, easing himself slightly behind John's shoulder. "I saw you bow to the Wraith once."

Ronon's face turned white and his jaw tightened. "Each ambassador has one of my militia guarding them at all times, except for Woolsey and Teyla. If any of them were under Wraith control, we would know by now."

"It's just one possibility. People can be bought, or they have some kind of political or religious beef."

"McKay's right." John scrubbed a hand over his face. "If it wasn't a stranger and it wasn't a villager, there's only one other option. That bomb got here somehow."

"Colonel Sheppard?" Halling approached with Chief Brin, a big man with a shock of red hair. "How is Teyla?"

"Alive," John said. "Awake, according to the update I got a little while ago."

"And her child?"

"Okay, as far as they can tell. Strong heartbeat and kicking."

Halling's exhale was long and slow, his shoulders slumping in relief. "That is good news."

"Please extend our well wishes to her, Colonel," Brin said.

"I will, Chief Brin." As John turned away, the council chief cleared his throat. "Was there something else?"

"Yes." Brin glanced at Halling, who nodded. "These attacks are growing more violent. We have been discussing possible locations for our next meeting, and we are agreed that Atlantis is the safest place we could go."

"When is the next meeting? I'll ask when we get back."

Brin arched a brow. "I understood Mr. Woolsey had been recalled to Earth and that you were in charge."

"Where did you hear that?" John asked.

"Was it a secret?"

John hid a grimace behind a smile. "No, I just wasn't aware that it was known since he wasn't scheduled to leave until a couple hours ago. I will still need to get permission from my superiors on Earth."

"I see. Please inform us once they have made a decision. Our next meeting is scheduled for three weeks from now, and as you can imagine, we have a lot of work to do."

After Brin and Halling walked away, Ronon rounded to face John, eyes tight and mouth pulled into a frown. "Why's Woolsey going back to Earth?"

"Damn IOA is jerking our chain again." John huffed as he surveyed the scene. "I don't think there's anything else we can do here. Let's get back."

Ronon stepped in front of him. "Is Atlantis going back to Earth?"

"Not if Woolsey or any of us can help it." John gripped Ronon's shoulder. "We won't abandon you, buddy."

Ronon nodded and walked toward the clump of militia monitoring the smoldering embers of the meeting hall.

"You really believe that?" McKay asked on the way to the gate.

"What?"

"That we won't abandon them. That Woolsey is going to win this fight."

John grinned. "I think Woolsey can pull it out. He has the dirt on everybody."

"And if he doesn't?"

"If he doesn't…" John shrugged. "We'll figure out something. We can't let the Wraith gain the upper hand again." He nodded to the Marines guarding the gate. "Time to go home."

"Yes, sir."

Once they were back on Atlantis, John got a high-level status update from Zelenka and then hurried to the infirmary with McKay. When they arrived, John smiled at Keller who waved them toward the private rooms. Raised voices caught his ear, and he paused at the door.

"…understand why you were there. You knew about the violent attacks. Why would you risk your life and the life of our child?"

McKay's brows shot up. "Do you think he knows who he's dealing with?" he whispered. "Maybe we should get Jennifer before Teyla rips him a new one."

"Too late," John whispered back.

Teyla's voice was calm and steady, with an edge that warned of impending doom. "Our lives are at risk every day – from the Wraith, from viruses and poisons, from falls down stairs and undiagnosed illnesses. I have never hidden from danger, and I do not intend to start now. With Mr. Woolsey gone, I am the Lantean representative to the Coalition. I have a responsibility to Atlantis and the council."

"And what of your responsibility to our daughter? If that piece of wood had been higher—"

"It was not. I am fine, Kanaan. Our daughter is fine."

John knocked on the door and stuck his head inside. "Hey."

The careful control on Teyla's face melted to a smile. "John, Rodney, welcome. Please, enter."

"How are you feeling?" John asked as he stepped in, catching a glimpse of fury on Kanaan's face before it was buried under his usual genial expression.

"Sore." Teyla looked at her leg which was bandaged heavily and lying on a pile of pillows. "Jennifer says my leg will require several days of rest before I can walk on it again."

"Good to hear." John shoved his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels. "Did you see anything suspicious before the bomb went off?"

"No," Teyla said. "I remember your warning, and then I awoke here."

"And nothing seemed odd before then?" McKay asked. "Did anyone seem nervous or out of place?"

Teyla shook her head. "I saw no unfamiliar faces. Several people seemed… unsettled, but nothing unusual for a negotiation setting. Have you no leads?"

"Not really, but we're not giving up. We'll figure out who's behind this," John said. "Brin asked to move the next meeting here. What do you think?"

"The next meeting?" Kanaan asked. "It is three weeks away."

John glanced at him in surprise. "Yeah. Is that a problem?"

"No. I am certain it is sufficient time for you and your people to prepare." The pucker in his forehead was at odds with his words, but he smiled as he slid his hand into Teyla's.

"And I am certain that if Chief Brin has determined it necessary, he will have the delegates prepared." Teyla turned to John. "If he has notice."

John grinned at her. "Consider it done." He patted her arm. "Get some rest. We'll check on you later."

While McKay headed to his lab, John went to Ops to update the SGC on Atlantis hosting the Coalition. After a lengthy discussion with Landry and O'Neill, they agreed that Atlantis was the safest location and the easiest to lockdown. No one would get a bomb through the gate without them knowing. John shared the decision with Brin, and then got a detailed status update from Zelenka who loaded him down with the day's reports and communiqués. Almost buried under the load of files – damn Woolsey and his love of paper – John crossed the catwalk and dropped them on Woolsey's desk.

Just one month. He had to keep the city running and intact for one month.

John slumped in the chair and picked up the first folder.

An entire month. God help him.

xxx

Rodney fought the urge to drum his fingers on the table, certain his leg would break if Jennifer kicked him one more time. The endless prep meetings for the Coalition meeting were a waste of his extremely valuable time. The city was secure. No unknown persons had been permitted to enter for over a week. The internal sensors were at maximum. Military teams had increased patrols, and Rodney's people were scouring the database for compounds that could be transformed into explosives. The other trivialities – food, lodging, entertainment – were somebody else's problem. He'd done his part, and he needed to get back to his real job.

"McKay!"

Rodney jumped as Sheppard's growl pulled him back to the meeting from hell. "What?"

Sheppard's head dipped forward, and for a second, a pang of remorse shot through Rodney. The past three weeks had been nonstop for all of them, but especially for Sheppard who was trying to run the city while heading up this security nightmare.

The moment ended when Sheppard tossed a pen at his head.

"Hey! I need my eyes."

Sheppard snorted. "I didn't come close to your eyes. Pay attention."

"To what? We've beaten this to death. Nobody is bringing explosives onto Atlantis. The Athosians are covering the non-critical systems, and a few of the critical, so my people can man the sensors. Soldiers and militia are everywhere. What more is there?"

"I asked for an update on the transporter recalibration."

"Oh." Rodney scrolled through Mita's status reports. "The east and south wings have been completed. We'll start on the north wing once the Coalition meeting is over."

"Good. Doctor Keller, what's new in Medical Sciences?"

Jennifer took a sip of tea and smiled apologetically. "We've got a new bug going around. So far, twelve crewmen have presented with it. Symptoms are fever, weakness, and uncontrolled vomiting which leads to severe dehydration. It hasn't responded to any medication so far. All I've been able to do is give intravenous fluids."

"The delegates arrive tomorrow, Doctor," Sheppard said. "Do we need to cancel?"

"I've got people working around the clock on it, Colonel. The sick are in quarantine. We're taking every precaution."

Sheppard turned to Teyla. "What do you think?"

"The Coalition has a great number of issues to resolve because too many meetings have been disrupted by attacks. As Doctor Keller said, the ill have been quarantined. The conditions are not perfect, but they never will be, and sickness is preferable to bombs. I believe we should continue as we have planned."

"Okay." Sheppard bit his lip and slowly nodded. "Okay. We go forward. Keller, notify me immediately if anyone takes a turn for the worse or if it keeps spreading. Teyla, contact Chief Brin about the situation and give him the option of canceling if he wishes. McKay, do a final sensor sweep before we lock down and cut the power to the unpopulated areas. I want all the extra juice for the sensors and shields." He pushed away from the table. "Ronon, with me."

Rodney gathered his tablet and coffee cup while Ronon followed Sheppard out of the conference room. Teyla eased to her feet, limping slightly on her still-healing leg, and Jennifer pressed the heels of her palms to her eyes.

"Hey," Rodney said. "Are you alright?" When Jennifer gave a non-committal moan, Rodney squeezed her shoulder then pulled back in alarm. "You're burning up."

Jennifer gave him a glassy-eyed stare and a small smile. "This new illness is a real humdinger."

"I saw you, like, three hours ago at breakfast. You were fine." Rodney took a step back and looked at his hands. "Were you feeling sick then?"

"No." Jennifer stood, bracing a hand on the table for a second, and then picked up her data pad and cup. "It's crazy, Rodney. Lieutenant Jeffers came in about five minutes after Doctor Landis. Both of them presented the same."

Rodney wiped his hands on his pants, wondering how much antibacterial gel he had in his lab. "What's crazy about that?"

"Lieutenant Jeffers has been off world for a week. She got back last night and went straight to her quarters. She says she didn't bump into anyone other than her team. None of them are sick."

"It's airborne?"

Jennifer sighed as she shuffled toward the transporter. "Maybe. I don't know. Jeffers and Landis don't office or live in the same towers. I don't know how Jeffers could've been exposed. If she brought it back, how did Landis get it?"

"They must have someone or something in common."

"I know, but Landis has been holed up in her lab working on a project. She didn't come out until she felt too bad to continue. Both say symptoms started in the middle of the night. Neither went to the Mess Hall yesterday." Jennifer stepped inside the transporter, holding it open. "I'm stumped."

"You go ahead. I'll, uh…" Rodney gave a sheepish grin. "I'll catch the next one."

"Coward."

"Yep." He held up a hand. "And send me your data. Maybe a fresh pair of eyes can help."

But by the time Rodney reached his lab, chaos had broken out. The gate had gone into self-diagnostic mode, power relays at several critical junctures had short-circuited, and the hologram room was projecting the final light saber battle between Darth Vader and Luke Skywalker in the gate room.

Rodney ducked as Vader's saber buzzed uncomfortably close to his head. "Who did this?"

"I have no idea," Chuck said. "I can't make it stop."

"It's kinda cool," Banks added.

"Any other day it would be cool. Not today," Rodney snapped. "I don't care if you have to pull every crystal in the room, shut that hologram down before Sheppard has a coronary." He toggled his earpiece. "Zelenka, how are those relays coming?"

"I am not yet to the corridor."

"What's taking so long?"

"The transporter sent me to the wrong building. Thought recalibration was done."

"Shit." Rodney glared at Chuck until he grabbed Banks' arm and they ran for the hologram room. "It was done. Someone started the north wing after I explicitly… Call me when you're done."

Four hours later, Vader and Luke were gone, the relays had been replaced, and the transporter recalibration had been reset. Half the night shift called in sick, but Rodney didn't have time to deal with that since the damn gate was still down.

"How much longer?" Sheppard asked.

"The diagnostic should've ended fifteen minutes ago." Rodney stood and stretched, grimacing at the kinks causing irreparable damage to his back.

"McKay, we've got delegates scheduled to arrive in six hours."

"Don't you think I know that?" Rodney briskly rubbed his hands over his face. "Look, as soon as it—"

The chevrons flashed and the gate began to turn.

"What's it doing?" Ronon asked.

"Dialing out to update its position. It's supposed to do that." Rodney picked up his coffee cup and stared in sorrow at the brown-stained empty bottom. "I need coffee."

Mita materialized at his elbow with a fresh cup. "We have finished the sensor sweep of the uninhabited areas, Doctor." She handed him a tablet. "Here are the results."

Rodney glanced over the data. "Okay. Shut off the power to those sections."

Mita nodded and disappeared.

"Where's Zelenka?" Sheppard asked.

"Puking his guts out in his lab." Rodney slumped in his chair and took a big gulp of coffee. "Seriously, how did I survive without an assistant?"

Sheppard rolled his eyes and walked away with Ronon. Rodney scanned the monitors in Ops, satisfied that all systems were in the green. Before he could start calling in subs for the unmanned consoles, Mita and three other Athosians returned to take the positions.

"Oh, good, you're here," Rodney said, coffee cup and tablet in hand. "I'm headed to my lab to go over some data Doctor Keller sent. Call me immediately if you even suspect a system might be going down."

Mita inclined her head in that dignified Athosian way. "Of course, Doctor."

"I'll be back before the first delegate arrives."

"You do not intend to sleep?" Mita asked.

Rodney snorted a laugh as he left. "Sleep is for mortals."

When Rodney reached his lab, he sprayed every surface liberally with disinfectant and slathered antibacterial gel on his hands up to his elbows. Then he plopped down in his favorite chair, pulled up Jennifer's findings, and began to read. He took another long drink of coffee, pushing away the exhaustion that was suffocating him. Something in the data was niggling at him, but his need to sleep was overriding his need to focus.

He pushed to his feet and paced the length of the room, letting his mind go blank – as blank as his mind could be. After several minutes, he called up the information on the main system and displayed the different data points, graphs, and slides on various monitors. He circled the room and stopped at the image of the germ under the microscope.

"What is it?" Rodney asked the alarm blaring in his head.

The alarm shrieked louder.

He walked the room again and again, always coming back to that one image.

Nothing.

Rodney huffed in disgust and stomped to a locker in the corner, programmed to his DNA alone. He rummaged through the contents until he found a chocolate bar to his liking and then slammed the door shut. He recited pi to the twenty-fifth decimal, threw darts at Kavanagh's photo, answered Madison's last three emails and sent one to Jeannie for good measure, made another pot of coffee, and checked Chuck's board for current odds on American Idol. He was halfway through the second chapter of some trashy ebook when it hit him.

Rodney scrambled back to the monitor displaying the image and called up another slide alongside it – the plant he had aerosolized to combat Kirsan Fever.

Oh. Dear. God.

The same tag on the pictures leaped out at him. Whatever this new bug was, someone had purposefully manipulated it into an aerosol version. Which meant this wasn't some random illness making the rounds. Someone was making them sick. Again.

Rodney dashed to the monitor showing Jennifer's timeline and probable incubation period. Then he pulled up a diagram of the city's ventilation system and plotted the whereabouts of the infected, narrowing it down to three possible intake areas. Then he called up the security footage of those areas and ran them backward from the time the first case presented, pausing each time someone came into frame.

An hour ticked by. Then another.

Finally, he found it – the smoking gun, the terrorist who was making them sick.

Rodney rewound the footage, his jaw dropping at the familiar face opening the intake and placing a container inside.

"Why?" he whispered.

"He did what was necessary for our plan, Doctor." Mita stepped inside, a stunner pointed at Rodney's head.

"You've got a hell of a sense of timing."

"I have been monitoring your system access. Once you began reviewing security footage, I knew you would probably discover us. Still, I hoped…"

"You're one of the terrorists, too?"

Mita shook her head sadly. "There are no terrorists," she said, and fired.

xxx

Ronon knew something was wrong. His blood sang the warning, and the twitch under his right shoulder blade throbbed with it. He stalked around Ops, watching Amelia and Teyla's people man the controls as delegation after delegation arrived. Teyla and Sheppard were all smiles as they welcomed the ambassadors and had other Athosians, along with a couple of Ronon's militia, escort them to quarters and then to the conference area. Sheppard's back was rigid as he checked his watch again, glancing up to Ronon who shook his head. McKay still hadn't shown up.

Other than McKay being late, everything seemed to be running smoothly. And yet Ronon's instincts screamed at him as loud as the day the Wraith had destroyed Sateda. He studied the people around him – Solen and his second in command were in fierce discussion, their bodies pictures of stress as they walked toward the conference room, never looking Ronon's way; several of his militia paced nervously as they waited for the next group to arrive, their eyes darting up to him occasionally, awkward smiles exchanged when he acknowledged them; the Athosians in Ops were all frowns and knots of tension, far from the warm and gracious people he knew. Only the two Marines patrolling the gate room seemed at ease.

Ronon radioed his team leaders, and each one answered with an "all clear."

The alarm in his mind shrieked louder.

"Genii delegation has dialed in," Amelia announced.

Sheppard looked up and gave her a quick nod. She lowered the shield. The hair on Ronon's neck stood on end as Ladon Radim and eight others marched in. Teyla squared her shoulders, which told Ronon she was as surprised as he was to see Radim. He wasn't on the guest list.

"Ladon," Sheppard drawled. "Always a pleasure."

Liar, Ronon thought. Sheppard couldn't stand that frouk.

"Colonel Sheppard." Radim gave his usual bland smile that made Ronon's skin crawl. "It has been some time."

Not long enough, Sheppard's body language shouted. His mouth said, "A few years, I guess. What brings you here today?"

Solen emerged from the conference room and crossed to Ronon's side. "What's going on?"

Ronon jerked his chin at Radim. "The Genii brought their… leader."

"It is a momentous day for the Genii, Colonel. One we've waited for and worked towards for many years."

Kanaan strolled in and stepped between Sheppard and Teyla. "Chief Radim."

Radim nodded. "Kanaan."

Teyla turned wide-eyed to Kanaan. "You know him?"

Something metallic flashed in Radim's hand, and he jabbed at Sheppard with it. Sheppard leaped backward and reached for his firearm as three militia raced to his side. But instead of protecting him, they grabbed his arms, forcing him to drop the gun as they wrenched his arms behind his back. The two Marines shouted and raised their weapons, but stunners fired from somewhere above and they collapsed.

Ronon lunged forward, but stopped when Solen jammed a blaster in his ribcage. Before Ronon could swing, the two Athosians in front of him stood, aiming Wraith stunners at him. Feet shuffled. People shouted. Amelia backed away from her station, hands in the air, as Mita trained a stunner on her.

Sheppard struggled to free himself, finally going still when one of the Genii aimed a shotgun at one of the unconscious Marines. "Care to explain this, Ladon?"

"I have waited almost seven years for this day, Colonel. Allow me a moment to savor it." Radim sauntered around the gate room, nodding at delegates, militia, and Athosians as he circled. When he met Ronon's eyes, he grinned.

"I know what you're thinking, Ronon, but don't," Solen whispered. "No one's going to get hurt unless you try something. You can't take all of us."

"I can try," Ronon growled, but his heart sank as members of his militia, armed with P-90s, filed into the room, several pointing their weapons at him.

"You will fail."

Ronon was still looking for an escape route when Radim made his way back to Sheppard who glared with such hatred that Radim's skin should have melted.

"You're trying to take Atlantis again?" Sheppard asked. "Didn't you learn anything last time?"

"I've learned many things since then, Colonel." Radim held up the silver injector in his hand. "Such as how to make certain people very cooperative." When he nodded, the men holding Sheppard shoved him to his knees. "This might hurt a little."

Sheppard pulled back as far as he could. "How did you convince these people to help you?"

Radim smiled, the injector poised at Sheppard's neck. "I didn't convince them of anything. They came to me."

"You lie!" Teyla growled. "My people would never willingly betray an ally."

Radim cocked a brow at Kanaan who took a deep breath and bowed his head.

"Kanaan, tell me that you did not do this."

Kanaan straightened and turned to look her in the eye. "This was the only way we could be sure that their people," he pointed at Sheppard, "wouldn't take the Ancestral City for themselves."

"By giving it to the Genii?" Teyla's body shook as she stared at Kanaan. "Have you heard nothing I've told you about them?"

"We are not giving the city to the Genii," Brin called down from the door of the conference room. "All of the Coalition will share in it."

Sheppard chuckled and shook his head. "They don't know you very well, do they?"

"I have no idea what you mean," Radim answered and plunged the injector into Sheppard's neck.

Sheppard arched and hissed in pain. Ronon jerked toward him, halting as every weapon in the room pointed at his head. Teyla moved subtly, and Ronon swallowed a grin. Even eight months pregnant, she could take down anyone in the room, especially with the blade she was concealing in her hand.

"Teyla, no," Sheppard said. "Stand down. You too, Chewie." He wavered side to side. "Just because they're doing it wrong doesn't mean they are wrong." He sighed and his body crumpled.

"No!" Teyla dropped beside him, cradling him as he slumped, unconscious. "What have you done?"

"Get her to the conference room," Radim ordered Kanaan, and then turned to one of his men. "Take him to the chair room."

Solen took Ronon's blaster and two of the three knives he had hidden, prodding him in the back to follow Teyla who was quivering with fury as Kanaan led her up the stairs to the conference room where Halling was waiting for them. The fight seemed to leak out of Teyla when she saw him, and she took a seat, eyes downcast. Ronon scanned the room, searching for a weapon, an escape, a way to wake up from this nightmare.

"Please, sit." Halling gestured toward a chair as Radim, Mita, and Council Chief Brin entered and sat.

"Where's McKay?" Ronon folded his arms and stared, pointedly not sitting down. "What did you do to him?"

"Doctor McKay is safe," Mita answered. "We have secured him and the others from Earth with Ancestor blood in an isolation room."

"And what are you going to do with Sheppard?"

"You are here as a courtesy, Ronon, nothing more." Radim leaned back in his chair. "We have agreed to give you this one chance to see our point of view."

Teyla raised her head. "Or?"

Radim smiled. "Or you will banned from Atlantis."

Teyla's eyes narrowed and her chin lifted. "Are you the voice of the Coalition?"

"I am the voice that matters right now."

"Enough." Halling stared at Radim until he lifted his hands in surrender. "Teyla, I ask that you consider our motives with the wisdom you have displayed from childhood. If you believe us mistaken afterward, we are open to your reasons."

"Speak. I will listen." Teyla turned to Ronon and extended a hand. "Please."

Shaking with rage, Ronon yanked a chair out and sat.

"Thank you," Halling said. "You must know this was not easy for any of us. At times I doubted this was the right move until Mita told us of the reason Mr. Woolsey was recalled to Earth. We cannot allow the Ancestral City to be taken from us again."

"It will not be," Teyla said. "Richard will be here in three days to tell you himself. Earth's government agreed to leave Atlantis here."

Kanaan leaned forward. "This time. What about the next?"

"You." Teyla didn't even glance at Kanaan. "Do not speak."

Ronon closed his eyes as the pieces fell into place. How could he have been so blind? "You've been planning this since we got back. It's why you wanted me to train the militia and get weapons from Woolsey."

"Yes," Solen said. "I told you once no one would have control over us anymore. Not the Wraith and not your friends from Earth. When the Ancestors left this galaxy, they left this city here. Where it belongs."

"But you cannot operate…" Teyla stared at Mita. "You have been learning the systems in order to run the city."

Mita nodded. "I learned everything Doctor McKay would teach me, and then I convinced some of the less paranoid that he wanted me to do more." She lifted her head proudly. "I can run Ops on my own."

Ronon jerked when the gate activated. "What's going on?"

Brin turned to him. "We are sending the sick back to Earth."

"But Earth's ring has a covering," Teyla said. "They will be killed."

Halling shook his head. "Joran will contact them first, explain what is happening."

"They will fight," Ronon said.

Radim smiled, looking very pleased with himself. "They are too weak. We made sure of that."

"You are responsible for this illness?" Teyla asked.

"And the flu that led you to ask your people to help run the city," Radim answered.

Teyla studied him. "You do not possess sufficient knowledge or technology to produce a bioweapon of such sophistication."

Radim arched a brow at her. "You have been spending too much time with Doctor McKay. Surely you don't think the only reason Commander Kolya kept that Wraith around was to torture people. That was a side benefit. Our scientists spent years gleaning as much information from him as they could, including how to manipulate and weaponize certain viruses." He leaned back and folded his arms over his chest. "It helped out at many a trade negotiation."

"What's your plan?" Ronon asked. "You said you had the ones with Ancestor blood in an isolation room. You planning on keeping them?"

"Yes," Brin answered. "Without Ancestor blood, we cannot operate some of the systems, nor can we fly the ships."

Ronon glanced at Radim. "Thought you'd been working on that for years."

Radim shrugged. "Never quite got it right. But I know Doctor Beckett did. Until we get it perfect and everyone tested, we'll use your people."

"They will not help you," Teyla said.

"They won't be able to help themselves." Radim held up the injector. "This contained a strong sedative. You saw how quickly Sheppard succumbed to it. In a less potent dose, it makes the subject very susceptible to suggestion."

"You can't keep him drugged all the time," Ronon said.

"Of course I can." Radim tucked the cylinder in his pocket. "And I will."

Halling shot a troubled glance at Radim, and then turned to Teyla. "No harm will come to Colonel Sheppard or any of the others. Our plan is to keep them only until our people can be trained on those systems. We will then send them back to Earth as well."

"Earth will not stand for this," Teyla answered. "They will come for you."

"We will not be here," Mita said. "We will fly the city to another planet, and when we are ready to send Colonel Sheppard and the others back, we will move again."

Solen pushed out of his chair and paced to the far wall. "This is our fight, not theirs. They have battles to fight back in their own galaxy." He turned to Ronon. "If they take Atlantis from us again, we won't survive. The memory of Sateda and our people will be wiped from existence."

"Why did you not share your concerns with them?" Teyla asked. "Mr. Woolsey and Colonel Sheppard would have listened to you."

"As they did when we came here after the Wraith attacked Athos?" Halling shook his head. "Do you remember the interrogations? The accusations?"

"I remember," Teyla said. "I remember that it was before they understood the Wraith. Years have passed, years in which they have learned about the Wraith, fought the Wraith, and died protecting the people of this galaxy from the Wraith."

"And they abandoned us to the Wraith the second their homeworld needed them," Solen snapped. "Do you not see that their loyalties are divided? We cannot depend on them."

"So you will poison some and kidnap others until you have what you want from them." Teyla's gaze swept over them, locking with Halling's. "Is this what we have become?"

Radim snorted in derision. "Do you honestly think that if we'd come to Woolsey and Sheppard, they would just hand over Atlantis to us?"

"To you?" Ronon asked. "Not while there was still breath in my body."

"To the Coalition then."

"We will never know," Teyla said.

Kanaan glanced at her. "You know that even if Woolsey and Sheppard were willing, their superiors on Earth would never allow it." He held up a hand when she turned rage-filled eyes at him. "We spent two years on the dark side of their solitary moon, waiting for their leaders to let us go while our people were dying at the hands of the Wraith. You are too blinded by your love for them to see that we are secondary to them."

"And you are too jealous of what they were able to achieve without the Wraith threat to see the consequences of rejecting their help."

Radim slammed his hands on the table. "We don't need their help!"

"Silence!" Halling stood and took a deep breath. "We promised to listen as she has listened to us." He looked to Teyla. "What consequences do you foresee?"

"Are you really that stupid?" Ronon asked.

Teyla shot him a dark look and then turned to Halling. "They have the vast resources of their galaxy – many civilizations even more highly advanced than Earth." She focused on Mita. "You have learned what you could from them. What happens when they are gone and you have no one to ask? Can you repair the consoles or reprogram the sensors?"

Mita shifted and glanced to Halling who stared down at the table. Brin looked away. Only Radim would meet their gazes, his expression smug.

Teyla's mouth dropped open. "You do not intend to send Rodney and John back at all." She leaned forward, attempting to catch Halling's eye. "They have families."

"We need them," Halling said.

"Not even McKay has all the answers," Ronon replied. "No matter what he says."

"How can you do this to them?" Teyla balled her hands into fists even as her chin wobbled. "How can you betray them, betray me like this?"

Halling raised his head, his eyes flat. "To survive."

"The Wraith feed to survive," Teyla snapped.

"Enough." Brin raked his hands through his hair. "Teyla, I can see in your eyes that you know Atlantis belongs here, with us. Why are you resisting?"

"Why are you holding my friends?"

Brin sighed. "Because we need them. It's what is best for the majority."

"'The good of the many outweighs the good of the few,'" Ronon murmured.

The familiar words of Zelenka's favorite quote made Teyla flinch, and when she glanced at Ronon, he saw the answer shining in her eyes.

"Can you give us a minute to talk?" Teyla asked.

"Of course," Halling said.

As the others stood, Teyla doubled over, crying out as she wrapped her arms around her abdomen. Kanaan, Halling, Mita and Brin rushed toward her. Ronon whipped his last knife from his hair and jammed the tip in Radim's ear.

Solen, trapped on the far side of the table in the confusion, shouted, "Ronon, no!"

Teyla exploded upward in a frenzy of elbows and fists. Mita dropped, followed by Brin and Halling. With her knife at Kanaan's throat, she tossed Mita's tablet to Ronon. "Go."

Ronon tucked the tablet in his vest and bent to whisper in Radim's free ear. "Don't think for a second that I won't bury this to the hilt in your brain if you make one false move."

"I know."

Ronon backed up until he reached the sensor that opened the doors which began to turn. He slammed the handle of the blade down on the back of Radim's head then shoved him into the table, grinning as he slid across the top and into Solen.

Before the doors opened fully, Ronon had slipped out and was running for the transporter, counting on his men to hesitate before firing at him, and slightly disappointed when they did. The first stunner beam zipped by his ear and he dived forward, sliding on one knee into the transporter, jabbing at the city map.

When the doors opened, he darted out and sprinted for the stairwell, stopping six floors down to see where he was – Tower Twelve, Level Fourteen. He breathed deeply and continued to descend until he reached Sublevel One. Using his best runner's pace, he headed for the Central Tower. Sweat dripped down his back and his legs burned. Would they suspect he was heading to the isolation room?

Twenty minutes later, he reached Level Twenty-Seven. He eased into the corridor, stretching every sense to detect movement. He slipped down the hall to the observation area, palmed the door open, and flattened against the outer wall. After a moment, a man armed with a P-90 stuck his head out. Ronon grabbed his neck and slammed him into the doorjamb. He sagged to the floor. Ronon peeked into the room, and, satisfied that it was empty, dragged the man inside with him.

About twenty people milled about below, including McKay and Beckett. Ronon toggled the mic. "You okay?"

"I most certainly am not," McKay snapped. "I've been stunned by that deceptive little minx and stuffed in here with way too many people. Without my coffee."

"He's fine," Beckett said. "We are very glad to see you, son. What's going on? I was told I tested positive for this new bug and tossed in here, but no one here is sick. Then someone in Genii uniform dropped off Dae and Chapman. When they woke up, they said the city was under attack."

Several people nodded in agreement.

Ronon waved a hand. "I'll explain later. Is there anyone outside your door?"

Beckett shrugged. "Not that we've seen."

"Sergeant Chapman," Ronon called. When the big Marine glanced up, he said, "I'm going to open the door. Take out anyone out there. They're going to be armed."

"Don't worry, sir," Chapman replied. "They won't be for long."

The doors parted and Chapman stepped out. A body went flying by and the Marine looked back in. "Good to go."

"Stay there," Ronon said. "I'm on my way."

He hurried out and down the steps to the isolation door, handing the P-90 to Chapman. "Don't let anybody by you."

Chapman grinned. "No, sir."

Ronon laid out the basics of what happened and then said, "We need to get you out of here."

"We're not retaking the city?" Lieutenant Dae asked.

"Look around you," McKay answered. "There are eighteen of us and most are scientists and doctors. Those people out there are trained warriors from birth. Would you want to take on an army of Teylas and Ronons? Without any weapons?"

Dae frowned. "We can't just give up."

"Don't you understand what's happening?" McKay asked. "The rest of the expedition is already gone. Atlantis is filled with armed people who want to drug us to the gills for the foreseeable future and use us to operate the city."

"He's right," Ronon said. "You can't win this battle. But they're right, too."

McKay gaped at him. "What?"

"They're cowards. Worse than cowards. They betrayed the alliance, the oath they made. I won't let them hold you or use you like that." Ronon turned away and closed his eyes. "But they are right. One day Earth will need Atlantis and they'll order Woolsey or Sheppard or whoever is in charge back. This galaxy will be defenseless again."

"You don't want us to fight," Dae said.

Ronon shook his head. "No, I don't. They don't want to fight you, but they will, and they will win. They have superior position and firepower. Part of battle is knowing when to retreat." He handed Mita's tablet to McKay. "You need to retreat through the ring so find a way to get us there without running into anybody."

Beckett studied Ronon for a moment. "You realize what will happen if we all leave."

"Teyla and I will figure something out."

"The ATA therapy didn't work on either of you," Beckett said. "Without someone to operate the gene-specific controls—"

"Okay, I've got it," McKay said. "I've turned power and environmental controls back on in the uninhabited areas and rerouted the transporters to go there."

"All of them?" Dae asked.

"Yes, all of them. Once the city detects someone out there, I've programmed the bulkhead doors to lock down. That should keep them busy for a while. Only someone with a command code can override it."

"Okay," Ronon said. "Let's go."

"That's it?" Beckett shook his head as they headed out. "You're losing your touch, Rodney."

"No, that's not it. I'm working on a way to clear out Ops." McKay scowled at the tablet. "Weird. Ops looks empty already."

Ronon grinned. "Guess Teyla took care of that."

McKay's brows shot up. "You left them alone with an angry pregnant Teyla? They'll be lucky to still be in one piece. Now, we just have to get there without dying."

"Can we dial out with a jumper?" Chapman asked.

"It doesn't have the control crystal that allows Atlantis to dial the eighth chevron. It has to be dialed from Ops."

As they moved through the hallway toward the stairwell, they came across a couple of militia. Ronon and Chapman knocked them out and took their stunners which made getting up the stairs considerably easier.

"Damn her. I trained her too well," McKay muttered, stabbing at the tablet.

"Who?" Beckett asked.

"Mita, my double agent assistant. She's trying to override what I'm doing."

"Can you stop her?"

McKay stopped and stared at Beckett. "Really?"

"Oh, sorry. Forgot who I was talking to."

When they reached the catwalk that took them to the next stairwell, Ronon turned left.

"Where are you going?" McKay asked. "Ops is this way," he said, pointing right.

"Have to get Sheppard."

"I'll come with you, sir," Chapman said.

McKay waved him away. "No, no. I'll go. No telling what damage they've done in the chair room."

Beckett stepped up. "I'm coming, too. The lad might need my help."

"Fine," Ronon said. "Chapman, get these people to the mission ready room and keep them safe. Find a radio and tune it to channel three. When we get close, I'll contact you."

They raced across the catwalk and down the stairs to the chair room. Ronon stunned everyone in their path, surprised to find so little resistance. When they entered, Sheppard was reclined in the chair, eyes closed, IVs in both arms. A roomful of Genii were staring at the monitors that were flashing data faster than the mind could follow, shouting at each other and at Sheppard who didn't seem to notice.

Ronon stunned the Genii while McKay plugged his tablet into the nearest console and Beckett removed the IVs from Sheppard's arms.

"Okay, he took what I did and ran with it. People are all over the city. He's got the hologram room freaking them out, I'm sure, because Megatron is holding court in the Mess Hall, and Darth Vader and Luke are back in the gate room."

"Can you keep the gate room clear?" Ronon asked.

"Not with the tablet. I need to be either in Ops or the chair."

"John, can you find Teyla?" Beckett asked.

Schematics of Atlantis began flashing on the monitors.

McKay glanced over his shoulder. "How will he know which one she is?"

Beckett frowned at the monitors and then smiled when they all displayed the same image. "She's the only dot with two heartbeats." He turned to Ronon. "They took my radio."

Ronon keyed his earpiece. "Teyla, this is Ronon."

"Ronon! Are you well?" Teyla's voice was a whisper. "John and Rodney?"

"Everybody's fine. We're in the chair room. Can you get here?"

"I am uncertain. I have not been successful in opening this door… which is now open. John is in the chair?"

"Yeah. Can you get here?"

"On my way."

Beckett tapped Sheppard's cheek. "Can you hear me, son? Keep the hallway clear for Teyla."

Different schematics appeared on the monitors. Alarms shrieked warnings of fire, electrical overloads, burst pipes, and toxic gases. The lifesigns in the vicinity scattered. But as soon as the double heartbeat dot neared each area, the bulkhead door would open and the alarms shut down.

Minutes later, Teyla walked into the chair room. She squeezed Ronon's arm, pressed a hand to McKay's face, and smiled at Beckett. "How is he?"

"Slowly coming around." Beckett tapped Sheppard's cheek again. "I need you to release the controls," he said. "We need to get you out of this chair."

The monitors and consoles went dark.

"And there went the holograms. Bulkhead doors are opening, too."

Beckett turned to Ronon. "Can you carry him?"

"Yeah." Ronon moved to his side. "Is it safe yet?"

"Yes."

Ronon grabbed Sheppard's arm and pulled him over his shoulders. "Okay, let's go."

"Wait," McKay called. "I'm not… What the hell?" He turned toward the chair where Beckett was now seated. "What are you doing?"

Beckett reclined and laid his palms on the gel controls. "Picking up where he left off, though I prefer Jurassic Park over the Transformers."

"Get off of there. We have to go. I'll figure out a way to clear the hallway."

"No. I'm not going."

Ronon stepped toward him. "Doc—"

"Have you lost your mind?" McKay asked. "Of course you're going."

"No, Rodney, I'm not. Earth isn't my home. I'm from this galaxy, and these people need me. I'm the second highest aptitude rating—"

"You just can't help throwing that in my face, can you?"

"And they need someone to operate the ATA-only systems like the chair and the jumpers. I can also manufacture some of the gene therapy. Plus I'm the best doctor they've got if I do say so myself."

"Carson…"

"It's not goodbye, Rodney. It's so long. One day, I'll convince them to reconnect with Earth. Don't give up on us." Beckett closed his eyes and the monitors lit. "Shutting bulkheads. Holograms are…" His forehead scrunched with effort. "How John does this so effortlessly, I'll never know." He opened one eye. "I need your help, Rodney. I can keep the bulkheads closed or clear the hallway, but I can't do both."

"Clear the hallway. You get me to Ops and I'll do the rest." McKay's face twisted. "Carson, I— you're…"

"Don't go mushy on me now, Rodney." Beckett closed his eye and swallowed thickly. "I will be here when you get back."

Ronon handed Teyla a stunner. "Get him to Ops, and dial out. We'll be right behind you."

Teyla nodded and prodded McKay toward the door.

As they stepped out, McKay turned around. "Before Elizabeth…" He cleared his throat. "We made a list of viable planets to take Atlantis when we were running from the Replicators. The list should be in the database somewhere."

"I'll find it, and if we can't go there, I'll leave a message at the alpha site of where we are," Beckett said.

"I should be the one to stay. They can't run this city without me."

"You would be a prisoner here." Teyla grasped McKay's face in her hands. "You have family, Rodney. Many people who love you – your sister, your niece, Jennifer. They are waiting for you on Earth."

"But you said we'd be back."

"And you will. I have no doubt of that." Teyla smiled gently. "One day."

McKay nodded miserably. "One day." He glanced around the room, his gaze landing on Beckett. "Carson."

"So long, Rodney," came the reply. "I'll see you soon."

McKay slammed a fist against the wall and ran like the Wraith were on his tail.

"I will see you in the gate room," Teyla said, and hurried after McKay.

Sheppard's body jerked. Ronon eased him to the ground and squinted at him. "Hey, buddy. How are you feeling?"

Sheppard sucked in a breath, his eyes rolling behind his lids, but he didn't show any other signs of waking.

"Oh, thank God." Beckett looked at Ronon. "Teyla and Rodney made it to Ops." He frowned. "The way is clear for you, but there is a group coming from a different direction. I can't stop them before they reach the ready room where Chapman and the others are waiting."

"The gate room is clear?"

"For now."

Ronon toggled his radio. "Teyla, Beckett says Chapman's group is about to be compromised. Get them out of here."

"Dialing out now—" Teyla said, and then static squealed and McKay came on. "We're not leaving without Sheppard."

"I'm on my way. Can you keep the gate open when you reach Earth?"

"I'm not leaving without Sheppard."

Ronon sighed and stared at the ceiling, irritated at McKay's stubbornness and missing it already. "On the way." He hefted Sheppard over his shoulder. "Doc, you sure?"

Beckett nodded. "Yes, lad, I'm sure. Just like I'm sure I'll see Scotland again one day. Now, go."

Then he was running for the stairs. The climb was slow and painful. Sheppard was deadweight on Ronon's back. Lights flickered. Alarms sounded. Beckett was really putting on a show.

"Hurry up, Ronon," McKay said. "The others have already gone through. I'm only showing five sub-cu transmitters—"

Gunfire popped in the background. McKay cursed and something thudded. A stunner whined, and then Teyla was back.

"Rodney is injured, and more are coming," Teyla said. "You must hurry."

"Get McKay through the gate. I'll be there soon."

"He will not go without John."

"Dammit. Throw him through if you have to."

"I cannot get him down the stairs without injuring him further."

Sheppard shifted and mumbled something unintelligible. Ronon paused and then lowered him to the ground when he heard footsteps. A door crashed down nearby, cutting off the voices. When he turned back, Sheppard was staring at him.

"Hey."

Sheppard's brows knotted. "Wha…" His jaw worked, but nothing else came out.

"Trying to get you to the gate room. McKay and Teyla are waiting. Can you walk?"

Sheppard nodded, and then shook his head.

"Sorry, buddy. I know you hate being carried." Ronon pulled Sheppard across his shoulders. "We're almost there."

When they reached Ops, Teyla was sitting in Chuck's chair and McKay was propped against the console, his leg stretched out in front of him.

Ronon looked him over. "You're not bleeding."

McKay glared up at him. "What astounding powers of observation you have."

"Why are you still here?"

"Because you are."

Ronon turned to Teyla. "Why is he still here?"

"He tripped over a chair when we were fired upon."

Ronon eased Sheppard to the floor, leaning him next to McKay. Sheppard blinked woozily, his forehead furrowed as his gaze swept over McKay.

"I'm fine, Sheppard. Quit looking at me like that." McKay looked at Ronon. "It's my knee."

"I could find no breaks, but it will not hold his weight." Teyla struggled to her feet and peered down at the ring. "Sergeant Chapman is on the other side, holding the gate open."

"Let's get them down there," Ronon said.

He helped McKay to his feet and steadied him until Teyla had an arm wrapped securely around him. He pulled Sheppard up, holding him upright even though he bore his entire weight as they slowly made their way down the main stairs to the shimmering blue that would separate them.

"Torren?" Sheppard said. "Where?"

"He is on New Athos, John." Teyla maneuvered McKay to Ronon's other side.

"No." Sheppard's body shook with his effort to control it. "Can't."

McKay glanced from one to the other in confusion. "What is he babbling about?"

Teyla took a step back. "I cannot go without my son, and there is no time to get him."

"You're not coming?" McKay said, looking stunned.

"Please," Sheppard said. "Teyla…"

"My people need me, John, now more than ever. They do not realize the mistake they have made. I cannot abandon them now."

"Even after what they've done?" McKay asked. "They've lied to you, almost killed you in that bombing."

Sheppard jerked at McKay's words. "They did that?" The words were slurred but understandable.

"There were no terrorists. Everything was a set up for them to get access to Atlantis."

"That power-hungry little weasel." Sheppard's face was a mask of rage. "I should have killed him when I had the chance."

"Ladon?" McKay asked. "It wouldn't surprise me if it was his idea, but they were all in this together." He turned to Teyla. "You can't trust them."

Teyla stroked her hands over her belly. "There are some whom I can never forgive or trust again, but others merely followed their leaders. I must show them that there is a better way." Her eyes shone with tears. "My child's heritage will not be one of fear and deception."

Sheppard lifted his chin, his muscles spasming as he fought for control. "You're my team, my family. I won't leave you behind."

Teyla stepped forward and pulled his forehead to hers. "You are not. I choose to stay, both for the good of your people and the good of mine. On your world, I would be just one of many warriors, but here, I can lead these people, once they are ready to listen. I can convince them to let your people return one day so that we may all share this city and her secrets."

"We don't have much time, Sheppard," McKay said. "The gate's been open for almost thirty minutes."

"I'm not going. Ronon and I will take a jumper, leave the city until it's safe to return." Sheppard gave a lopsided grin. "We'll scour the galaxy, hunting Wraith."

"And your oath to your military?" Teyla asked. "You would break it? Become a deserter?"

McKay shook his head. "Not if he ever wanted to go back to Earth again. Caldwell would hunt you down, and you know it."

The tension in Sheppard's muscles grew worse. "Teyla, please."

Teyla pressed a kiss to Sheppard's cheek, hugged McKay, and stepped back, not bothering to wipe the tears from her face. "I will be here with Carson, Torren, and," she caressed her belly again, "Charin Elizabeth, waiting for you when the time has come for your return."

Sheppard sagged against Ronon. "The door will always be open if you change your mind."

"I know." Teyla smiled through her tears. "Take care of each other."

"You steady enough to walk?" Ronon asked.

Sheppard flinched. "You're not coming either?" he whispered.

"Still got a few Wraith to kill. That jumper's not a bad idea, though. Maybe Beckett can rig one for me."

"Where is Carson?"

"Chair room. He's trying to keep the bad guys away for us." McKay's voice was thick with emotion and he coughed to clear it. "Damn fool."

Ronon helped them to the edge of the event horizon. "I'll take care of Beckett."

Something clattered nearby. Before Ronon could turn, a stunner beam ripped Sheppard from his grasp and another caught McKay in the chest. His eyes rolled back and he dropped to the ground.

"I can't let you do this, Ronon," Solen called from the top of the stairs. "We need them."

"And I can't let you have them."

A vein throbbed in Solen's jaw. "You would choose them over your own people?"

Ronon looked down at the two unconscious men at his feet, and something twisted and settled in his chest. "They are inspatrel."

Solen looked stunned for a moment. Then anger flooded his face, and he aimed the stunner at Ronon. Teyla spun and fired her stunner as Ronon leaped out of the way. Solen collapsed in a heap.

"Inspatrel?" Teyla asked. "Blood brothers?"

"You know the term?"

She nodded. "We pronounce it anspatrile."

Ronon fingered the cuff she had given him, tracing the design stitched in the leather, and glanced to the ones Sheppard and McKay had on. "More than blood."

"Soul bonded."

"Yes." Ronon hefted McKay over his shoulders. "Guess I should go. Running out of time."

"Are you certain this is what you wish?"

Ronon pulled McKay's arm and good leg tight around his neck and gripped them tightly. "Can you get Sheppard sitting up?"

"I will try." Teyla knelt awkwardly and tugged on Sheppard's upper body. "You have not answered my question."

Ronon stared down at her. "Yeah, this is what I want. I can't leave them here. Couldn't stay on Atlantis if I did. Radim would see to that." He held her eye. "I'm not alone anymore."

"No, you are not."

"Besides," he grinned at her, "I owe Teal'c a rematch."

Teyla laughed and wiped tears from her face as she hugged him. "Take care of them for me."

"Are you sure this is what you want?" Ronon asked in return.

Teyla wrapped an arm around her middle. "It is what must be. But it will be hard."

"Take care of Beckett."

"I will." Teyla hugged him again and stepped back. "Farewell, anspatrile."

Ronon wrapped his arm around Sheppard, looking one final time at the city and her new keeper.

"Farewell," he said, and stepped into the stargate.

---

A/N: Many thanks to kristen999 and everybetty for the beta. Their contributions and suggestions have been invaluable. All errors mine. Written for the 2011 SGA genficathon on . This will be the last story I post on this site. While I don't envision writing any longer in the SGA fandom, if I do, any future fics will be posted to my LJ account (wildcat88). Thank you to all of you who have read my work and encouraged me over the years. I have treasured your comments more than you will ever know.

Farewell.