Chapter One: On the Sacrifice of Yana
Dr. McKay grumbled softly to himself. They'd been climbing down the mountainside for the better part of an hour now. Shepard and Ford where ahead, like this was a walk in the park. Teyla was keeping pace with him, but McKay knew that was more out of kindness than anything else. He didn't need sympathy from Xena the Warrior Woman. He needed more food. McKay glanced up at the sky. Twin suns glared down at him, offering little heat. A cool breeze arose and nearly blew Ford's cap off. McKay shivered. He decided there and then to hate this planet, whatever it was called.
Teyla hadn't recognized the Gate Address, from the Ancient Database. From the look of the Stargate and the surrounding area, it would seem that no one had used it in centuries. And it was no wonder. Who puts a stargate high in the mountains as far away from the people, as possible? It seemed to McKay, that it sort of defeated the purpose. Though he supposed it was no different then having one in Antarctica. He mumbled to himself. Why did he have to go on the mission anyway? He and Zelenka had been running some interesting experiments, but now here he was enjoying the scenery. Except there was no scenery. It was barren, dry, and cold. Not McKay's idea of a pleasant afternoon. In the distance they could make out a monastery, stark against the landscape. Shepard pointed at it. "Let's go meet the natives," he said.
The Monastery didn't look very inviting up close. Black obsidian rose out of the mountainside, but the doors opened readily enough. Clad in grey robes, the Abbot welcomed them kindly and bid them enter.
"Welcome to the Temple of Yana," he said. The hall was dark, lit only by the flickering candles. It was simple, very few decorations, save a clockwork pattern etched into the floor. "Rejoice, for your pilgrimage is at an end my brothers." Shepard and McKay glanced at each other.
"Uh…pilgrimage," Shepard asked.
"Yes. You mean you did not know? You are dressed strangely but still you could hardly fail to recognize our humble abode." The Abbot glanced at their puzzled looks. "Rejoice now my brethren for it was upon this summit that Yana, thanks be to him, made his Sacrifice so that the Tannisian people could at last be free." Teyla frowned softly at that. The Abbot looked around and saw that they were none the wiser. "Surely you know the story. Every mother whispers it into their child's ear."
"We're not from around here," said Shepard.
"There is nowhere across the globe that the Sacrifice has not touched."
"Unusual upbringing."
"You truly do not know?" The Abbot beckoned them. "Come within so that I may teach you of our heritage."
As they followed, Shepard whispered to Teyla. "What's wrong?"
"He mentioned the Tannisians."
"So what of it?"
"They were once a friendly people and did trade with my people."
"What happened to them," whispered Shepard.
"No one has heard from them in generations…not since the last culling almost 500 years ago." Any further conversation was cut short as they entered the inner chamber. The clockwork symbols were again prevalent. Beneath the torchlight there were over 50 Monks kneeling before an altar, upon which rested the statue of an old man, an open pocket watch in his hand. They were chanting, a harsh rhythmic chant. Softly, softly now loud.
"The chant is maintained at all times," the Abbot said. "Thanks be to Yana, and praise be to our Protector. At the appointed times, the entire order will sound the drums of praise together. 200 of the brethren here alone, hundreds of thousands across the globe. Praise be to our Lord & Master." Shepard really didn't like the sound of that. Something was wrong here, very wrong. "Please be seated," the Abbot smiled benignly. "Once long ago," he began. "On an island in a sea of stars, there was a land where dwelled an ancient mighty race. They looked out upon all of creation and thought it good. But out of the darkness came forth a terrible enemy and they did battle. Fought with each other unceasingly across all of time and space, until at last the two almighty civilizations were laid to waste.
So it came to pass that a man with no memory feel to Tannis. He was humble and kind, and grew to be an elder among our people, renowned for his great wisdom. But when the Wraith came, he found that for all his great wisdom, he had not the strength to save his people, but he knew of one who could. Using his knowledge and subtle arts, he summoned the last of that ancient and mighty race. Yana was consumed in the fire of our Savior's resurrection. He sacrificed himself so that our Savior could have flesh. With his help we drove the Wraith back and hid our world from their view. And our Savior sits enthroned as our Lord & Master eternal. Praise be!" He nodded at them solemnly. You may now observe your own private prayers," he frowned softly. "though I find it unlikely that you have never heard the story before." He left, his robes billowing behind him.
"McKay," Shepard said.
"I don't know. Obviously they're still here and judging by the fact that Teyla's only heard legends of them, I'd say there's some truth to their story."
"What," Ford asked.
"Well I'd say they found some sort of Ancient device that hide or maybe even cloaked the entire system. If that's true, then it would take a colossal amount of energy. The only thing I could think of, of hand, is a ZPM."
"Well that's good," said Shepard.
"Just one problem."
"McKay…"
"We don't know were, or even if there is a ZPM, and of course if we did find it…"
"Taking it away would strip them of their only defense," Teyla said.
"Yeah," Shepard sighed. "And what's with all that Lord & Master business?"
"Don't look at me," said McKay. "I don't do religion."
"Alright," Shepard said. "We need more information. I'm going to talk to the Abbot see if there's a village nearby. Ford see if you can find some robes or something…anything. We stand out too much like this." He gestured to their uniforms.
"Yes sir."
The Abbot waved, as they head out down the road. "Don't forget," he called. "The last Air Tram is in two hours. Should take you right to the Citadel." He watched until they had become little more then specks in the distance. The doors closed fast behind him. He always enjoyed greeting the visitors, and pilgrims. He enjoyed seeing the Temple though new eyes. Everyone saw the Sacrifice slightly different. True wisdom lay in contemplating those differences. Praise be. But these last visitors had been different…wrong. Everything about them, from their accents to their clothing had been wrong. He stopped in the hallway outside the Spiritual Chamber and listened to the chant. Oh how he loved to listen, even as a child the chant had spoken to him, whispered ancient secrets that only he could hear. To become lost in the rhythm and cadence was to know our Lord & Master. He shook himself, and slowly walked on, lingering for a moment before entering his office.
He sank gratefully into his plush seat and sighed. It had been a long day, but it wasn't over yet. In contrast to the spartan monastery the room was ornately furnished. The walls were lined with bookshelves, except behind his desk, where a portrait of the Lord & Master hung, gazing down at the room.
"Computer," the Abbot said. On his desk sat a flat screen computer, the green clockwork emblem etched on its side. The military and Spirituals got all the top of the line equipment. "I have a report."
"Please state your identity," came a coolly professional voice.
"Cyvus Graven, Coordinator" he said.
"Voiceprint confirmed. Please state your purpose."
"I have information for the Master. I think someone has come through the Gate."
"Understood," the computer said. "Please standby."
He leaned back and waited. His finger absently taping out a drumbeat on his desk. Tappity tap went his fingers. Tappity tap.