Milky Way – Earth – Atlantis
STARGATE OPERATIONS BALCONY
It was difficult to say which was louder: the sound of the balcony door sweeping open, or the disgruntled sigh of a Lieutenant General who never could seem to catch a break. Not even ten minutes, he thought. Looking to his watch, however, proved an even greater disappointment.
"Sorry, am I interrupting something, sir?" Sam asked.
Jack lifted his head, a smile forming at the sound at her voice. "Of course not," he said, turning back to her. "If you were here with more paperwork, however…"
Sam smiled, though not in the least bit surprised. "Bad day?" she asked.
His exhaustion, having worn its way deep into his features, seemed enough to answer her question. "Oh, you don't know the half of it."
Sam crossed to his side, noting his expression lighten as she leaned against the cold metal of the balcony rail.
"So, how's the Victory coming along?" Jack asked.
"Well, the Asgard systems have all been installed. We're just waiting for the data packets to uncompress before we can fully initialise the core."
Jack nodded. "Right on schedule."
"It should be, yes. Commander Robinson is currently overseeing the transfer of supplies, but it shouldn't be long before the first test flight is underway."
Jack took a deep breath of the cool and salty sea air and nodded again, finding himself at long last begin to relax. "Sure as hell beats the Pentagon, doesn't it?" he said after a moment, looking out toward where San Francisco had become naught but a blur on the horizon; a mesh of green and blue and white where it clashed with the water below and the sky above.
"I think I made more decisions out here than I ever did in my office," Sam said.
Jack sighed, his gaze falling back down over the city before them. "I wish I had that luxury."
Sam smiled, a knowing expression. "Well, if it means anything, sir, there's no one I'd rather have in charge."
Jack smiled in silent appreciation at her words, relaxing further in the comfort of her presence; knowing that he could always count on her to dispel his own doubts. But in that thoughtful quiet that followed, her words began to weigh upon him, until only a single thought occupied his mind.
"Oh, I can think of one."
Sam's brow wrinkled in thought.
It was only when she met his gaze, however, that his true meaning became clear.
She closed her eyes and nodded, reflecting upon his words as they looked down upon the city together.
STARGATE OPERATIONS
The emptiness in the Gate Room was a hard thing to ignore, Banks found, her train of thought derailed once more. In her mind's eye she could still see it. After three years it was difficult to put aside from memory.
"Well, it was bound to happen sooner or later. You know how paranoid the IOA are," Chuck said, managing a brief glance up at her from where he lay, flat on his back beneath the D.H.D. control console.
Banks nodded with his reply, knowing the truth of it, but it still did little to dissuade her thoughts. "I know," she said with a sigh. "But it just doesn't feel right."
"Better wrong than having it blow up in our faces again," Chuck said, shifting uncomfortably beneath the console as he reached across for his tablet. "And besides, it's not like we're going to be here to notice it anyway," he added. "In a few days we'll be twiddling our thumbs on the Daedalus on our way to our new posting aboard a derelict Ancient warship that's currently adrift in the void of intergalactic space." He took a breath, shaking his head.
Banks then turned back, the thought detaching her from looking down upon the Gate Room below. "Oh, boy," she said with dry enthusiasm.
"And to think, my family thinks I'm studying abroad."
"Still?"
Chuck grinned. "Surprisingly enough, yeah," he said, putting the tablet aside again. "Not sure how long it's gunna hold up for though. These same old excuses are beginning to wear a bit thin."
"Same here," Banks said. "Being stuck in another galaxy for a few years does tend to strain relations a bit. I mean, look at Marzano. She was part of the original expedition and she came back to divorce papers."
"Marzano?"
"Yeah. She worked in the infirmary. Her cover was 'Doctors Without Borders', but her husband just got fed up with not hearing from her for so long. He made claims of abandonment and took their kids and their house, leaving her with nothing."
Chuck paused in thought of that, staring up at her open-mouthed.
"Hard to believe, I know," Banks said, recalling the sorrow of Marzano's loss from memory, "but it does add a certain perspective to joining… one which even I overlooked," she added after a few moments.
Chuck nodded. "Same here," he admitted. "They pretty much had me at 'aliens', 'spaceships', and 'intergalactic travel'. I don't think I've ever been so quick to sign up for anything in all my life."
A smile creased the corner of Banks' mouth.
"Still, it's one hell of a commitment, that's for sure," Chuck continued, slowly turning back to his work as he reached up toward the next panel. "Being deployed to another galaxy to combat an alien race with the ability to suck the life out of you with their hands wasn't exactly what I had imagined for a first posting." He took a breath, groaning against the strain that had slowly been working its way up his back.
"Are you alright down there?"
Chuck groaned again. "Lie down here for an hour and ask me that again."
"Wanna switch?"
"Nah. No point." With a slight click, the panel came away in Chuck's hands. "Just got this last node to bypass and…" Putting aside the panel, he reached up again and quite simply pulled out one of the control crystals. "… done."
And in that following moment, as Chuck slumped against the floor with a weary sigh, the D.H.D. control console powered down – for what may be its final and last time.
Looking to the tablet in her hands, Banks nodded. "That's it. It's isolated."
"Ah, thank god!"
"Amen to that," Banks agreed as she placed her tablet down on the console above him. "Here." She offered her hand, which Chuck graciously accepted as he shuffled out and, with a strength that surprised him, Banks hauled him up to his feet.
"Thanks," he said, dropping into a chair. "Another hour down there and I might've needed a medic."
The balcony door slid open and Jack's face twitched with impatience as he and Sam walked back inside, his hands balling into fists at his sides. He shook his head and pressed a finger to his earpiece, silencing Strom mid-sentence. "I'm entitled to a break, Strom. If you don't like it, I'd be more than happy to refer you to human resources."
Sam smiled at the remark, taking as much pleasure in Jack's defiance as he did as the balcony door slid shut behind them. And though she could only make out a few words here and there over Jack's radio as they spoke outside on the balcony, it was pretty clear that his reply had been met by silence – or at least for a few stunned moments.
Jack then sighed, seemingly being drowned in the resumption of Strom's bureaucratic rhetoric as they passed through into Stargate Operations.
"Colonel Carter?" Banks said, stepping away from the console.
Sam smiled warmly in reply, detaching herself from Jack – who continued on through into his office, whispering curses under his breath as he went. "Yes?"
"We're finished."
"That's ahead of schedule," Sam said. Her answer came with honest surprise, with McKay's estimate having fallen far short of the mark.
"Well, there aren't many who know the city's systems like we do, Colonel," Chuck said, "but we aim to please, nonetheless."
Sam nodded her agreement. "That you do."
"So, what next, Colonel?" Banks asked.
Sam thought on that a moment. "Well, you weren't due to ship out for another three days, so…" She let that linger in the air, watching the hopeful expressions on their faces.
OFFICE OF JONATHAN J. O'NEILL
Having had enough, Jack took his earpiece out and shoved it in his pocket, letting Strom's last few words fall on deaf ears as he dropped into his chair. "God, that man is a piece of work."
"What did he want this time?"
Jack looked up as Sam entered his office. "For me to get back to my desk, apparently," he said, shaking his head. "I mean… you know, for someone who's been dragged out of bed at four in the morning, you'd think he'd cut me some slack."
"Four?"
"Yep," Jack said with absent enthusiasm. "An emergency summit with the Jaffa High Council."
Another?
Jack nodded, Sam's expression pretty much speaking for her.
"What was it for this time?"
"Oh, some of their ships went missing," he said with the same unenthused tone. "Waste of damned time if you ask me. But that's what you get with the IOA negotiating our treaty obligations."
Sitting down across from him, Sam managed a dry smile, all too familiar with the politics that accompanied their work. She then lowered her gaze, glancing down at the desk between them. A disordered and disorganised mass of papers and files littered its surface, and her eyebrows rose in surprise at the depth to it all. "Boy, you weren't kidding about the paperwork."
"Intelligence reports, mostly." Jack yawned. "There's a financial assessment record in there somewhere, which is what Strom has been pestering me for all morning."
"Well, if the IOA have one redeeming quality, it's their persistence," Sam replied.
"And their pessimism, rigidity…"
Sam smiled, chuckling lightly.
And then, Jack's phone rang.
With a disgruntled sigh, he closed his eyes. "That man does not know when to quit."
"He must need that file pretty bad," Sam said.
"Then I'll strap the damned thing to a drone and fire it up his…. Oh" -Jack then saw the caller I.D.- "it's Daniel." Reaching across his desk, he put the phone on speaker. "Daniel. Glad tidings, I hope?"
"Bad day?" Daniel asked.
"Oh, you don't know the half of it," Jack said, glancing across at Sam.
There was a slight pause.
"Oh."
"Oh?"
"Yeah…" Daniel said warily. "You see…"
Milky Way – Earth – Atlantis, Eastern Pier
CORRIDOR OUTSIDE JANUS' LAB
"Well, it was some mighty fine shooting, I can tell ya," Jack said as the transporter doors opened. "I can't see anyone breaking that record for a while."
Sam smiled, her face flushed a bit. "Well, I can't take all the –"
Her last words came out in a sudden and forced breath as Jack's arm shot out across her body, forcing her back into the transporter. And no sooner had he done so than a large shipping crate suddenly went past; narrowly missing them both had it not been for Jack's quick reflexes.
"Thanks," Sam said as he withdrew his arm.
Stepping out of the transporter, Jack looked on as the crate was hauled up the corridor, its destination tag clear to see on is rear side – 'DR. JACKSON'S LAB / JANUS' LAB – ATLANTIS'.
But then, Jack paused… and sniffed the air intently. "That smell."
"What smell?" Sam asked.
"Exactly," Jack said, sniffing the air once more. "The last time I was down here, it smelled worse than my pond."
Sam's brow drew up at that and she sniffed the air for herself, its clean and fresh scent filling her nose. "Hey, you're right," she said, turning her puzzled stare back upon him. "It's gone."
Jack nodded. "Not exactly something your everyday air freshener can cover up."
Sam nodded in return, but then her gaze turned away, looking to the wall beside her. "It's been cleaned. Look." She stepped closer, brushing her fingers over its surface, where not a single trace of the water-line remained to be seen – anywhere. "The water-line's gone."
"But… but he only just moved in on Tuesday," Jack said, incredulous.
"Would you want to put up with that smell every day?"
"Hey, I'm just saying, it took three days before an engineer came to fix my toilet last week," Jack said, shaking his head. "Three days! Do you know what it's like having to take a transporter every time you've gotta go?"
Sam's face split into a wide smile at that, unable to suppress herself.
"Oh, ha-ha," Jack said, regarding her with a disapproving, but otherwise impersonal frown. "Just wait until you have to find empty quarters in the middle of the night – and in this city of all places. And my bladder aint exactly what it used to be, you know."
"Well, in all fairness, Colonel Orenski has done an exceptional job restructuring city operations since Atlantis' return," Sam said, "and especially given the damage it sustained during the battle with the Super-Hive, and the subsequent landing. I'm sure she spared an engineer as soon as she could."
Jack pursed his lips in thought, but then he nodded, deciding to let the matter pass. There was still much to be done before he could even call it a day – insofar as his work was concerned – and Janus' Lab still beckoned. Or, to be precise, a potential catastrophe beckoned. "Well," he began with a sigh, "we best not keep 'em waiting."
Sam nodded her agreement and began walking with him toward the end of the corridor, watching as the shipping crate slowly disappeared around the corner towards Janus' Lab. And it was there where they both came to a halt, staring off down the corridor with almost equal surprise.
Jack blew out a breath, brushing a hand through his hair. "What in the world…"
They both had to blink to believe what they were seeing before it became an undeniable fact. Stacked almost from floor to ceiling and seemingly from wall to wall were crates and boxes, all of which bore the same destination tag as the one being manoeuvred into position before them by an Airman.
"A few things," Jack said, disbelieving. "That's what he said to me. Just a few things. No big deal."
"And here we have what amounts to his entire office," Sam said, her own brow rising with his.
As they looked on, the Airman withdrew his pump truck from the crate, almost colliding with them as he did so. "Oh!" he said, fumbling to salute and bring the pump truck to a halt. "Sorry, General. Colonel."
"As you –" Jack paused as he moved to step aside. "Erm, Miller," he said, noting the name on his uniform, "please tell me this is all of it?"
"Yes, it is, sir."
Jack rubbed his forehead, still visibly taken aback, but he nodded, nonetheless. "As you were."
Miller relaxed at ease and moved on as Jack stepped aside, disappearing down the corridor at their backs as they moved to examine the crates more closely.
Finding a path through them, however, proved difficult.
"… seventy-three, seventy-four, seventy-five…" Jack whispered under his breath as they drew closer to the end – where in some places they could only just manage to squeeze past.
Sam's own count was significantly higher, but it was not the count which had piqued her interest. For each crate and box had a code; with the last four characters acting as a shipping reference. Most had been shipped from Stargate Command, whereas the others, a few dozen at most, were from Area 51.
"AC39?" Sam whispered under her breath, examining one of the more structurally reinforced crates. AC? Her brow furrowed at that thought. Potentially hazardous materials?
Jack turned back toward her. "Carter?"
"AC," Sam repeated. "It's a storage reference I.D. from Area 51… for potentially hazardous materials."
"Oh, potentially hazardous materials, you say?" Jack sarcastically riposted. "Well, I'm comforted."
A slight hint of a smile lifted the corner of Sam's mouth at the remark. "Well, I can't say for sure, but it's possible that these may just be what was catalogued from the lab when we first discovered it."
"That's not exactly filling me with confidence either, you know."
"…"
Words failed Jack.
"…"
A kick confirmed it was real.
Sam regarded him with an odd look, noting a slight twitch of pain from the kick.
Jack ignored the pain in his foot. He had not meant to have kicked it that hard – and especially with the shoes he wore – but he had to be sure.
And then, the door opened.
"I figured that was you."
Jack's eyes narrowed, fixing Daniel with an otherwise impassive expression as the moment dragged on. But then, he drew in a breath and turned to Sam, "You know," he began with a slight dramatic flair to his tone, "though my memory may not be what it used to be, I could have sworn that there used to be a wall somewhere around here."
Daniel blinked. "What?"
JANUS' LAB
"Well, the IOA insisted on the door," Daniel said as it closed behind them. "Not a lot of them were willing to risk their lives on McKay's tone generator."
"And I don't blame 'em," Jack said. "Hell, after Carter explained it to me, I was afraid to walk through the thing."
"He took some encouragement…" Sam said, a smile growing on her lips, "… and a push."
Daniel laughed lightly, recalling the memory for himself with much fondness.
"Well, forgive me for not wanting to end up a wall decoration," Jack replied with polite sarcasm; a Han Solo-esque image coming to his mind. But then his tone changed, "And just how in the hell did you manage to get all of this done so fast? You only moved in on Tuesday."
"Colonel –"
"Orenski, yes, I know," Jack interrupted. "But how? If I need anything doing, I get put on a waiting list – and I'm meant to be the Head of Homeworld Command, for cryin' out loud."
"And so was I."
Jack drew back slightly, resisting the urge to laugh. "Oh, really? Because that door and those crates out there would beg to differ."
"It was a four-week waiting list, if that makes you feel any better," Daniel said, sensing an all too familiar tension behind his words. He was having a bad day after all, he reflected. "And it was another week before that door was even installed for that matter," he added. "I didn't actually move in 'physically' until Tuesday."
Jack pursed his lips.
"What about the wall?" Sam asked.
"Area 51," Daniel said. "Apparently there are more than a few applications for being able to walk through walls."
Sam nodded, a few ideas already coming together in her mind. "Speaking of Area 51, I couldn't help but notice those crates outside. Potentially hazardous materials?"
Daniel nodded as she spoke. "They're from the original manifest which was catalogued from the lab upon its discovery."
"Yeah, we suspected as much," Sam said, glancing to Jack beside her.
"Well, those hazardous classifications only came about due to Janus' encryptions," Daniel said, hoping to put Jack at ease – if at least for a moment, "and we've only been able to decrypt a handful of them as it is. I mean, McKay, Lee, Zelenka, and god knows how many others have all pretty much exhausted their efforts on them."
"Myself included," Sam admitted.
Jack raised his eyebrows sceptically. "And you think you're going to succeed where they failed?"
"Well, I'm certainly going to try. After all, given what we have already been able to decrypt – which is pretty damned impressive by the way – who knows what else we might find in there."
"He is right, sir," Sam said. "Janus was designing some truly incredible pieces of technology in here. We found design concepts for a personal cloaking device. He was even working on something similar to Merlin's phase-shifting device."
Jack's brow rose again. "Something to reverse ageing would be nice," he said with a smile. "It would do wonders for my prostate."
They smiled at him, laughing lightly between them.
"If I come across anything, I'll be sure to let you know," Daniel said. "Although, if you're interested, you might want to check in with Doctor Lam if you want an answer to your ageing dilemma."
"Why, has she discovered the fountain of youth?" Jack asked.
"Well, if she has, she isn't letting on," Daniel said, much to Jack's disappointment. "She asked for my help translating Asgard cloning research."
"Ah, that takes me back," Jack mused.
"Asgard cloning research?" Sam repeated. "What would she be needing that for?"
"That's the thing, though. Apparently, Woolsey asked her to look into it for him."
"Woolsey?" Jack and Sam said together.
Daniel nodded.
"Okay, what would Woolsey be needing Asgard cloning research for?" Sam asked, her brow furrowed in thought.
"She didn't say, but it sounded important – at least to Woolsey, anyway."
There was a deep breath and then a yawn from Jack. "Well, I have a meeting with Woolsey tomorrow morning for Eli's debriefing, so I can ask him then," he said, stifling another yawn. "But in the meantime, what did you do?"
Daniel took a deep breath, understanding the question by tone alone. "Yeah…"
A long pause followed.
"Well?"
"Well…" Daniel hesitated.
Jack sighed, cocking an eyebrow. "I'm not getting any younger here, Daniel."
"Well… all I did was pick it up," Daniel said finally.
"You know, that sounds eerily familiar to how most crisis's we face come about," Jack said, glancing across at Sam. "Hazardous materials comes to mind, too."
Daniel rolled his eyes at that. Though, in truth, he had expected as much.
"Then why did it activate now?" Sam frowned. "If it's been handled before –"
"Okay, okay, let's rewind a little bit, shall we?" Jack cut in. "What exactly did you activate?"
Daniel said nothing; instead turning back to one of the lab's workbenches – of which there were only two. The contents of one of the 'Hazardous Materials' crates were neatly laid out across its surface; a majority of which being control crystals. But Daniel ignored these, not even making a move to pick anything up. "This," he said, indicating to a small, disk-like object, set apart from the others on the workbench.
Jack and Sam both stepped closer, peering down at the object. It had a dull, almost cloudy transparency to it, but no other distinguishing features.
"That?" Jack said.
Daniel nodded.
"Looks like a control crystal of some kind," Sam said.
"That was my assumption as well, but I've never seen anything like it before," Daniel said. "Not even McKay could make heads or tails of it."
"Is there any mention of it in Janus' database?"
Daniel shook his head. "Nothing. Nor is there anything in Atlantis' database either. I can only assume that the data is still encrypted."
"So, what exactly is the problem with it?" Jack asked.
"Well, to be quite honest, I'm not really sure," Daniel replied, noting how well Sam refrained from picking it up to examine it closer. "You see, when I first took it out of the crate, it was clear; perfectly transparent."
"Really?" Sam said, looking back to the crystal.
"I didn't really notice it at first. Not right away, anyway," Daniel quickly added.
Intrigued by such a transformation, Sam crouched down lower over the crystal.
"I had to triple check our records before I could believe it for myself, but the pictures were pretty clear."
"It could be a transmutation of some kind," Sam muttered – more to herself than Jack or Daniel. "Possibly a thermal expansion…. Or impurities in the crystal itself…"
"So, you broke it?" Jack said.
Daniel shrugged. "Your guess is as good as mine, but I sure as hell did something to it."
Milky Way – Earth – San Francisco
DAVE SHEPPARD'S BEACH HOUSE
"So, what do you guys think of the place?" Sheppard said as he closed the door behind them. "Pretty sweet, am I right?"
McKay's mouth fell open, signalling his own silent approval. The sun, shining out of a clear and cloudless sky, streamed in through a wide patio door which opened onto an expansive balcony. But the golden sands of the beach and the clear blue waters beyond held little interest for him, and neither did anything else he saw before him. Instead, his eyes fell upon the three arcade machines that were set up just off to their left, adjacent to the door. There was an 'X-Files' pinball machine, and a 'Tekken 3' and a 'House of the Dead' arcade machine.
"Ah, sweet!" he said, already fishing for loose change in his pockets.
"I'll take that as a yes," Sheppard said.
"Nice of your brother to let us stay here," Ronon said, seeming to express little interest in the property either as he looked to Sheppard.
Sheppard nodded. "Well, given how many properties he owns, it's not like he's going to miss one," he said, dropping his duffle bag on the floor beside all their other luggage. "Sure as hell beats a hotel, though."
With no hotel experiences to draw upon other than his brief stays at Stargate Command, Ronon just nodded.
"You want a beer?"
"Sure."
As Sheppard moved off, Ronon lingered a few moments longer, drawn to the sound of gunfire as McKay made himself quite at home on the 'House of the Dead' arcade machine – his jacket slung over the back of the nearest chair. With an unenthused expression, he looked on as the game – and a rather short one at that – player out. A small smile lifted the corner of his mouth at that, which then grew even wider as McKay scrambled to find more quarters in his pocket. He lingered a moment or two before finally detaching himself from the game.
The living room flowed seamlessly with the dining and kitchen area beside it as Ronon passed by a u-shaped arrangement of sofas and chairs. It looked enough to accommodate over a dozen people, which the approaching dining table supported, with spaces for twelve people already laid out.
"Take a load off," Sheppard said, indicating to the bar top. "Dave said that it should be pretty well stocked," he said as he approached the fridge, "but with what is another matter entirely."
And no sooner had Ronon sat down, then a beer came gliding over the polished oak surface of the bar top to rest in Ronon's waiting hand. "Thanks," he said, proceeding to down half the bottle in a single draught.
"Well, here's to two weeks of sun, sea and surf," Sheppard said, tipping his glass to Ronon before taking a swig.
Ronon drank down the last of his bottle, depositing it on the bar top as the last word left Sheppard's mouth. "And drink," he said, muffling a burp with the back of his hand.
Sheppard smiled, indulging in his beer again. "That too."
Milky Way – Earth – Atlantis
COMMUNICATION'S LAB
There were few tells which Graham had come to notice when the transference took effect, but as he watched Colonel Telford sitting in silent meditation before him, none had yet to present themselves. He checked his watch, again. It read 12:17 P.M.
Late again, he thought to himself, his brow furrowing slightly with concern.
It was becoming a bit of a habit for Eli of late, with each passing day amounting to yet another delay. Not that it could be helped, he knew – not with a four-day deadline handing over the young man's head.
Telford then drew in a sharp inhale of breath.
And there was the tell.
"Oh, I am so not going to get used to this."
Graham stepped forward, regarding Telford with an uncertain glance. "Mr. Wallace, I assume?"
Eli leaned back in the chair, his eyes still closed. "The one and only."
"Authentication code?"
"One seven nine seven eight four zero."
"Welcome back, Mr. Wallace. I'm Staff Sergeant Graham. When you are ready, I will be your escort to the conference room for the debriefing."
Eli made no motion to stand, or even move for that matter; instead seeming to relax even further into the chair.
Graham let him indulge in the moment a little while longer; his exhaustion clear to see. Back on Destiny, sleep was a luxury Eli could ill afford to indulge in, he knew, with each second of air proving as invaluable as the last. But this reprieve, as brief as it was, did little to hide the fact that he had once more come up empty.
12:19 P.M. Graham lightly cleared his throat. "Are you ready, Mr. Wallace?"
With that, Eli finally opened his eyes. "As I'll ever be," he said, dryly.
As he pushed himself up and out of the chair, Eli staggered, wavering slightly as he sought to adjust to the new lease of vitality offered by Telford's body – something which had been occurring with increasing frequency over the past few connections. But it would pass, he knew, which it did. He then looked up at Graham. "Well, let's get this over with."
"I take it that you have had no further success?" Graham asked delicately as he swiped his hand over the door control console.
Eli shook his head as the door swept open.
"I'm sorry to hear that."
As he spoke, Graham saw Woolsey turn down the corridor toward them; no doubt having arrived to determine the reason for Eli's lateness.
"Ah, Sergeant," he said as he drew closer, quickening his pace. "And Mr. Wallace. Welcome back to Earth."
"Mr. Woolsey," Eli said, accepting Woolsey's outstretched hand.
Woolsey then turned to Graham. "I will take it from here, Sergeant. Thank you."
Straightening up, Graham nodded. "Take care, Mr. Wallace," he said with a curt nod before turning back into the communication's lab.
"It's a pleasure to meet you again, Eli," Woolsey said. "Though, I had hoped that it was not under such… dire circumstances."
"She's an old ship," Eli said, fully accepting of the position he had put himself in.
Woolsey nodded. "Indeed, it is," he said as they began to walk down the corridor together. "But I still feel that it is a position that you should never have had to place yourself in. None of you, for that matter," he added. "Doctor Rush's actions were entirely self-serving, without any regard for you, or anyone else on that ship."
"Well, it's not like there's anything we can do about it now."
"No," Woolsey said sadly. "However, there has been a recent development which I believe you should be made aware of, and I was wondering if I might be able to have a moment of your time to discuss it before the debriefing begins."
Eli's brow furrowed with concern, and he came to a halt, turning to face Woolsey. "What kind of development?"
"I believe it would be best if we were to discuss this matter in private," Woolsey said. "Please, it will only take a few moments of your time."
"What about the debriefing?"
"Believe me, Eli," Woolsey said, his tone growing serious. "You will wish to hear what I have so say. I assure you."
Eli's brow furrowed further. "Okay."
"If you would follow me, there is an empty laboratory up ahead where we might speak in private."
The lab was empty, and all power save for the lights were out as they walked inside. Small in size, it consisted of only three control consoles situated around a cluster of eight transparent glass tubes that rose up from the floor to the ceiling. Towards the back of the lab, however, were two chairs with a small but low table in-between.
"Have you been able to make any progress with the stasis pod?" Woolsey asked as they both sat down.
"Honestly?"
Despite hearing the truth of the answer in Eli's tone, Woolsey nodded, nonetheless.
Eli shook his head. "I can't fix it."
"Are you sure?"
"I'm pretty sure," Eli said, trying not to sound too sarcastic. "Look, I wish I had better news for you," Eli continued, noting Woolsey's disappointment, "but Destiny has been through hell since we came on board, and god only knows what else in the millions of years since her launch. Hell, I'm surprised she's still flying. Even Rush is."
Woolsey breathed a dispirited breath.
"Mr. Woolsey, what's going on?"
Woolsey swallowed lightly. "There are certain members of the IOA who believe that the value of your knowledge far outweighs the sacrifice that you are willing to make in order to fix the stasis chamber."
"Well, it's not like there's anything you can do to help," Eli said.
"Do you remember Andrew Covel?"
Covel? Eli thought. What does he have to do with this?
"As I am sure you are no doubt aware, Doctor Covel came aboard the Destiny a few months ago with Senator Michaels, in order to investigate the signal which the Ancient's discovered within the cosmic microwave background radiation."
"Yeah," Eli said, still failing to see what Covel had to do with his current predicament.
"Upon discovering his own fate due to the severity of the radiation poisoning which he received during the Lucian Alliance attack, Doctor Covel attempted to sabotage the communication stones –"
"Can't say he made a lifetime friend in Greer for that," Eli interjected.
"Doctor Covel and Senator Michaels died shortly after the disarmament of the naquadria bomb."
"Oh," Eli said, sadly. "Sorry."
"That's quite alright, Eli," Woolsey replied, "but in so doing, Doctor Covel's attempt at sabotaging the communication stones opened up a whole new field of study with regards to their operation. As such, recent studies, taken in conjunction with research from Atlantis' database has confirmed that the transference of consciousnesses can be swapped out indefinitely – even after the long-range communications device has been switched off."
"… even after…"
Woolsey felt an uneasy discomfort pass over him as the revelation became clearer. "I'm sorry, Eli," he said, swallowing lightly. "But you have my personal assurance that their proposal is just that. A proposal. Nothing more."
"And they can shove it where the sun don't shine, because it aint gunna happen," Eli said, his tone rising angrily.
"And you won't. You have General O'Neill's personal assurance of that," Woolsey said firmly. "However, I have an alternative which I wanted to run by you before I present it during the debriefing. And believe me, Eli," Woolsey continued, "it is far more preferable to the one being… considered by the IOA."
"What is it?"
"Since we came into possession of both the Asgard computer core and the Ancient database in Atlantis, we have been able to make tremendous strides in virtually every field of study," Woolsey said. "However, there is one such field which the Asgard have researched and studied for thousands of years, and I believe it may very well be your salvation."
"Go on," Eli said, interested.
"Cloning."
Eli drew back, his eyes widening with surprise. "You want to clone me?"
CONFERENCE ROOM
"Mr. Wallace does not have two months, Mr. Woolsey," Strom said.
"I am well aware of the time constraints facing Mr. Wallace, Carl," Woolsey replied. "However, I find it hard to believe that you would have even considered such a plan. What gives you the right to judge one life's worth over another?"
"Hear, hear," Jack said, concurring.
"A suitable volunteer has yet to – "
"A suitable volunteer!" Jack's voice rose to a shout. "Do you even hear yourself?!"
"Of course, we would never have pressured Mr. Wallace into anything without his permission."
Jack snorted. "Yeah, like we haven't heard that before," he sarcastically retorted, narrowing his gaze on Strom. "A certain incident with the Replicators comes to mind."
Strom retained his composure, not rising to Jack's bait as they stared across the table at one another. "And we have already apologised for that incident, General."
"Ah, yes, I remember it fondly."
Woolsey lightly cleared his throat. "I think we are beginning to stray a little bit off topic here," he said. "And I think it is fair to assume that Eli would never have gone through with your proposal."
"Or your own for that matter," Strom replied.
"Actually," Eli broke in, letting his own voice be heard, "I prefer his plan over yours," he said to Strom, "but like you said, I don't have two months."
"How much time are we talking about here?" Jack asked, leaning forwards over the table.
"About forty-six hours," Eli replied.
"Forty-six hours?" Woolsey repeated. "I thought you had a little over four days before you reach the threshold of your power limitations?"
"Oh, I do," Eli said, "but I'm not risking their lives on my calculations."
"Do you not trust your own calculations?" Strom asked.
"Well, they've served me pretty well so far," Eli said. "Hell, they're what got me onboard Destiny in the first place, but that doesn't mean that I'm willing to stake the lives of the crew on them."
"But surely you would wish to use what little time you have left in order to fix the stasis chamber?"
Eli closed his eyes, drawing in a seething breath. "Have you not been listening to a single word I have said?!" Eli said, his voice thick with anger. "The pod can't be fixed. Not by me. Not by anyone. So please, stop asking!"
"Then what are you going to do, Mr. Wallace?" Strom asked. "If you cannot fix the stasis chamber –"
"Then my options are pretty slim, I know," Eli finished sharply.
"Eli, are you sure that there are no more stasis pods anywhere else on the ship?" Woolsey asked.
"Do you really think we'd be having this conversation if there were?"
Woolsey overlooked Eli's tone. "Well, I only ask because, if these figures are to be believed," he said, looking down at an open file before him on the table, "then there is a slight discrepancy between the number of stasis pods and the number of crew quarters on Destiny."
"Discrepancy?"
"Yes," Woolsey said, nodding as he traced his pen over both the figures on the file. "According to information obtained by Camille Wray, Destiny has crew quarters for approximately one hundred and twenty people."
"Sounds about right," Eli said.
"Then why would they only build eight stasis halls?" Woolsey asked. "I mean, with one pod capable of supporting only one person, why would they build an insufficient number of them if they had originally intended for a larger crew to inhabit the ship?"
The more Woolsey spoke, the more Eli's brow furrowed as he thought it over for himself. "But I've already checked the ship's database. There are only eight stasis halls. If there were more, I'd know about it."
"It does seem an awful waste of space," Jack put in.
Woolsey nodded. "And it stands to reason that the primary purpose of the stasis pods is for the intergalactic jumps."
"Well, obviously," Eli said, "but that still doesn't change what I've read in the database. There are no more pods."
"And we're back to square one," Strom said, speaking up.
"Well, it's not like I left it in the first place," Eli said, downcast. "But yeah, back to square one."
"So, there's nothing else you can do?" Jack asked, his voice edged with concern.
"No, not unless I can find more power for life support…" Eli's words trailed away as a thought suddenly struck him. "Oh my god, the shuttle!"