Things had been going too well lately.
Elizabeth Weir knew when something was going to go wrong. The Daedalus had made its supply run without any delays and all the Stargate teams were coming and going according to schedule. Barring a few firefights here and there, things were going well. Too well.
Nothing ever stayed constant in the Pegasus galaxy. If any situation was going sour, there'd be some sort of good luck or miracle—usually by Rodney—to get them out of it. Now it was the opposite…everything was fine. This made Elizabeth very edgy. Something was bound to happen sooner or later. They'd never gone this long without losing someone or being under attack.
"Dr. Weir?"
She tilted her head upwards, spying Dr. Zelenka in the doorway. Plastering a welcoming smile on her face, Dr. Weir moved her hand towards the chair in front of her desk. "Come in, Dr. Zelenka."
He gave a tentative smile and sat down across from her. "Dr. Weir," he acknowledged with a tip of his head, "I'm only here for a moment. There have been fluctuations in the northeast naquadah generator that Rodney's been harping about for several days now…"
"Of course," Elizabeth responded. She prodded, "Go ahead."
"Well…" Zelenka's hands played with one another, his nervousness obvious, "Today is our day off and I was thinking of tweaking some systems—nothing against protocol, of course—to secure a more…enlarged—or bigger, if you will…viewing device for recorded films because, you see, the scientists would like to…"
As Radek rambled on, Elizabeth scrutinized the doctor. She knew giving both military and civilian personnel a mandatory day off every five days would come back to haunt her. They'd only need a skeleton crew during that particular day, but plenty of antics and trouble followed regardless of how much fun the expedition was having.
She braced herself. "You want to alter Atlantis' systems to set up a larger television screen for movies?"
She tried to hide her smile as Radek fidgeted in his chair. "Well, yes. We had a movie marathon planned for today and…we were unsure how you'd take it once you found out." Elizabeth had to hand it to him. She would find out, there was no doubt about that. Rodney, on the other hand, would take his chances. Zelenka was taking precautions. But she couldn't let this slide so easily. She'd have to ensure that inconsequential matters couldn't always be advocated and passed off so quickly or it might become a habit.
"Will this affect any other systems or dampen any power in the immediate vicinity?"
Dr. Zelenka's anxiety seemed to disappear almost immediately. "No, this sort of manipulation would be very minor at best. It will not affect Atlantis' systems whatsoever."
Elizabeth eyed him critically. He didn't fidget or shift under her gaze. Years of perfecting the art of diplomacy told her he was a hundred percent certain no other systems would be affected. His body language gave that much away.
"Very well, Dr. Zelenka." He let out a sigh of relief. "However, tomorrow morning I'd like the generator to be returned to its original status."
"Of course, Dr. Weir." Actually, he looked remarkably giddy right about now...That gnawing feeling was coming back. "I appreciate it. Have a good day." He was backing out of her office awfully quickly...
Elizabeth braced herself for the worst.
-------SGA-------
Golf was a difficult game.
Ronon refused to call it a sport. It didn't have a great amount of activity or movement, there was no one getting hurt (unless he continued to ricochet balls off the wall to hit Sheppard), and it wasn't of any great benefit to himself.
How he actually ended up with Sheppard for another afternoon playing golf was another matter. After having gotten a little too "trigger happy" during their last off-world mission (how was he supposed to know the king of that world was supposed to be dressed like an assassin? Damn customs...), Sheppard decided he needed to calm down. Ronon disagreed. He was calm. But Sheppard was having none of it. And now here they were, on the edge of Atlantis. Playing golf.
"Look, all I'm saying is that lifeguards are a vital part of the beach. They save lives everyday! Plus, where would we be without Pamela Anderson and her slow-motion running?"
"Probably in better control of this galaxy..." Ronon grumbled.
John's head shot up. "What was that?"
"Nothing." Ronon swung sideways with his driver. The golf ball hit the wall to his right, bounced behind the two men into a corner and pelted Sheppard in the rear.
"What the hell?! I know you're not any good at this game, but at least keep the ball outthere," Sheppard gestured wildly towards the ocean. "And don't think I don't know that you're doing this on purpose! I remember your first swing! It's not like you suck at this!"
Ronon smiled. It was fun to rile him. "Lifeguards are a waste of time and money. If people can't swim then they shouldn't be in the water."
Rubbing his injury, Sheppard grabbed another ball from the bucket and set it on the tee. "But if they're never in the water, how will they learn to swim? And really, how could you deprive someone of swimming? I think that's a crime."
"It's not a crime."
"Yeah, well, it should be." Sheppard appeared thoughtful. "In fact, you know what? We should go swimming. When was the last time you went swimming?"
"Don't have time to go swimming. Movies are starting soon."
Movies. Though advanced in weaponry and other similar technology, Satedans had never actually focused on aspects of light and created film. Sure, they had 'plays' and various theatrical events, but they'd never had the resources to create a whole different world. Ronon was visually impressed, especially with the action films, though that was to be expected. He'd also taken to rooting for the killer in slasher films because, really, how stupid were those people?
Sheppard seemed to deflate. "Ah, crap. I forgot about that. They won't put Star Trek on until late anyway."
Ronon rolled his eyes. Sheppard and McKay often took hold of the television room, specifically for their science-fiction films. It wasn't so bad, at least until Elizabeth discovered they were using their positions as head of military and science departments, respectively, in order to book the TV room for days at a time.
"Should we get ready?"
Sheppard paused, considering the question. "I think I'll hit a few more."
"Then I'll see you there." Ronon opened the large, bulking doors and headed back into the depths of Atlantis.
Golf was boring.
-------SGA-------
"No, these are NOT the energy readings I calculated from the generator. These are YOURS."
Teyla cringed. Even after months and months of being in the company of Dr. Rodney McKay, one could never fully get used to the anger and annoyance that irradiated from him. Especially since his voice traveled so far.
"Well, you can do this by yourself then!"
Now she smiled. She could always count on Dr. Zelenka to keep him in line. Until he left the room and left Rodney to his own devices, of course. One could only endure McKay for so long.
"Fine! I will! And it will run smoother than your calculations ever would have!"
"Fine! Enjoy your own loathsome company!"
"I will thank you very much!"
"Fine!"
"FINE!"
And with a huff, Dr. Zelenka rushed past her and out the door.
Stepping cautiously forward, Teyla grazed her fingers along a nearby desk covered in laptops and errant pieces of paper. Someone's calculations. She recognized the jumbled, incoherent handwriting. Rodney's calculations.
"Dr. McKay?" Teyla ventured, being careful not to startle the scientist.
"WHAT?" McKay's head shot up from behind a desk, glaring holes into Teyla's head. His face softened immediately. "Oh, Teyla…Hi…there. Don't mind Radek. He's just cranky as always because my idea was better."
She raised her eyebrows. "Oh really?"
McKay fidgeted. It was hard for him to lie to her. "Well, no, not really, but mine's just as good! In just a few, short minutes we'll have the big screen up in no time! And someone better pick some damn good movies because Elizabeth told Zelenka we can only have this thing up until tomorrow morning."
"Elizabeth approved?" Disbelief ran through her. Surely Elizabeth could not accept all of John's, Rodney's and Zelenka's crazy schemes.
"Of course she approved. Why wouldn't she? It's a perfectly harmless, minor alteration in energy output to the naquadah generator so that I can reroute a small amount into the projector we have set up in the recreation room. This will account for perfect definition and picture clarity and—as a bonus—a two-hundred inch television screen!"
Teyla smiled.
"I know, it's great, isn't it?"
"That's not why I'm smiling, Rodney."
"Oh…then why are you smiling?"
"I just figured out what to get Elizabeth for her birthday. Thank you, Rodney." Teyla strode happily out the door to the lab.
With a mortar and a pestle, Teyla could grind up some of the kichiguru leaves and haru beans she acquired from their last 'Gate trip and mix them with water. She could then make a paste, mold them into tablet form and then refrigerate them for two days. This would make Elizabeth the perfect birthday present.
The concoction, most commonly known on Earth, would be aspirin.
Teyla's smile grew.
-------SGA-------
"Unscheduled off world activation! I repeat, unscheduled off world activation!"
The Stargate was dialing. Sound after sound of the coordinates being locked into place hit Elizabeth's ears like fresh bullets being fired from a gun. It was just a matter of time before those bullets reached Atlantis. They were long overdue for an attack.
Quelling her nervousness, Elizabeth stood up from her desk and walked to the railing overlooking the Gate room. She remained stoic, unmoving; a rigid pillar. A leader has to appear strong before their people and that's what she was doing. Everyone else in the gate room knew just as well as she did that they had been coasting lately. A smooth ride on a road without bumps. But a road can only travel so long.
"It's Major Lorne's IDC, ma'am," her control officer, Chuck, relayed to her.
The tension eased slightly in the Gate room at the mention of Lorne's team. SG-2 was sent out on a mission roughly eight hours ago and was not scheduled to return for at least another four hours. Either they have nothing to report, negotiations went sour or they were under attack. Elizabeth prayed it wasn't the latter.
"Lower the shield," she ordered.
The glowing barrier in front of the Stargate disappeared almost immediately, allowing entry to Atlantis. The distortions in the puddle in the middle of the Stargate were mesmerizing as Elizabeth waited for human bodies to rush through. Like ripples in a pond, except they did not move outwards in a circle. It was fragmented, indecisive. Unsure.
She could sense the apprehension in the room. Nothing was coming through. Perhaps this was the moment she was waiting for. That one problem that would begin a path of destruction. The catalyst that would set the entire city into motion to try to repair.
This feeling was nothing new. It gnawed at Elizabeth every single time the Stargate rotated. It was like riding the world's most unsafe roller coaster ride, waiting for the tracks to derail, the ride to fall apart or for the safety mechanisms to fail. It was difficult to handle.
And then a solid shape moved through the wormhole and entered the city.
Elizabeth smiled.
"Major Lorne," she called out. The relief that spread through her was massive as one by one, all of SG-2 stepped through the Stargate fully intact without any physical injuries. "Welcome back."
"Glad to be back, ma'am." Evan Lorne tipped his head upwards in her direction, gesturing that everything was alright. She sighed.
"Briefing room in two hours, Major." Lorne nodded and Elizabeth returned it before walking back to her office. Sitting down at her desk, she let a slow smile form on her face, satisfied that routine had somehow returned to her day. A regular briefing, a meeting with John during supper about military schedules and vacations that were long overdue for a few people and, perhaps, she would even sneak in a movie before bed.
-------SGA-------
Rodney McKay was, without question—according to himself—the smartest person on Atlantis. With a Masters degree in Astrophysics, countless published theses and a mind that could hold a great deal of calculations at one time, Rodney was content that no other person could surpass him in intellect.
"Then why the hell can't I get this to work properly?" he said aloud, slamming a balled-up fist into the wall. "Ow."
The energy alteration for the projector was simple enough, but energy readings were still fluctuating. A report he received yesterday from Zelenka mentioned something about the problematic naquadah generator in the northeast section of Atlantis, but these results were just so…erratic.
"Of course he'd leave me more work to do. Radek just can't seem to do anything himself nowadays." With a huff, Rodney set to work on his Tablet PC, courtesy of the Ancients. The device was about the size of a pad of paper and about as thick as a tree stump. It was light, though, which made walking around with it much easier. Rodney decided he wouldn't carry a tree stump even if it needed it to save his own life.
The map on the tablet had several blinking areas in the northeast region, indicating some kind of failure in those areas. The lights were annoying.
He tapped his headpiece. "Zelenka, come in. It's McKay."
After clicking a few buttons, a garbled message came back through the small radio, "What is it, Rodney? I'm eating." To substantiate that claim, the sound of teeth entering some kind of fruit—probably citrus—could be heard on the other end of the headpiece. Rodney grimaced.
"What's the deal with these power fluctuations in Sector Four? I know you said they were there, but there's no base pattern to follow as to why it's messed up."
Zelenka's voice returned, clearly annoyed. "Kavanaugh is working on it with Jones. I wasn't able to get around to it today because we were testing the new personal shields we found in Sec—"
Rodney cut in. "New personal shields? Like the one I used to have?"
"Yes, like that one." Radek was exhaling a lot now. Definitely frustrated, McKay decided. But he had work to do. "We could not get the shields to work, though. They are fully powered, but for some reason they do not respond to our thoughts. As for the power fluctuations, they are not affecting any areas within the city. Their source is likely a short-circuiting power conduit, which can be fixed tomorrow. It's our day off, Rodney. Enjoy it."
Enjoy it? Rodneywas enjoying it. Working on the city is what made Rodney happy, not lolly-gagging about, citing excuses for not working. As if Radek could understand that, coming from a guy who thought Warcraft was a better game than Starcraft. Seriously, what kind of backwards nation did he come from?
Though, now that Rodney thought about it, he was getting hungry…As if to verify that, his stomach growled, aching for some food. "Well," he supposed, "I guess Sector Four can wait until tomorrow for repairs…"
He tapped his stomach, "Time to get you some food!" He frowned, looked down, and tapped it again. "But we're not sitting next to Zelenka. Next thing he'll do is tell us that Battlestar Galactica is better than Star Trek. Ha!"
-------SGA-------
Tick. Tick.
Elizabeth checked her watch. One o'clock in the afternoon. SG-2 should be arriving any minute now.
She tapped her fingers on the end of the long table. The briefing room was not the most luxurious of rooms on Atlantis. Drab walls, a boring table pattern and one lonely leader. At least you couldn't get distracted once conversation was started.
And it was making Elizabeth tired. It wasn't Lorne's fault—she knew—that Carson was thorough in his check-ups after missions. He had to take samples of bodily fluids, check them for physical injuries or punctures and ensure that they were mentally suitable to remain on-duty. Elizabeth did not envy his job at all.
Tick. Tick.
And on that note, she didn't think anyone envied her job either. Her Timex was too slow. The second hand was always falling behind her laptop's clock in her office. She was late for two meetings yesterday due to the damn thing.
Speaking of late, the briefing room doors swiveled open and SG-2 quietly stepped inside. Major Lorne sat down closest to her, already familiar with the process in which she would rely on him for most of the answers. Lieutenant Cadman sat down to his left, clasping her hands together on the tabletop. Doctors Parrish and Samuels, who was the newest addition to the team, sat opposite their teammates.
"I trust your post-check-up went well?" Elizabeth queried.
"Yes, ma'am," Lorne replied. "You know Doctor Beckett. Always goes that extra mile to make sure we're okay. And then some."
Elizabeth grinned. "Yes, Major. Carson sure has his methods."
"You can say that again," Cadman spoke up, matching Elizabeth's grin. Lorne rolled his eyes, aware of the relationship between his Lieutenant and the good doctor.
"Can it, Laura. Mission briefing."
"Yes, sir!" Cadman stated solemnly, salute and all.
"Alright, alright. Let's get down to business, shall we?" Elizabeth folded her hands in front of her, wrinkling her uniform in the process. "What exactly happened on the planet?"
"Well, ma'am," Lorne started, "We arrived on PSX-487 and walked around for a few hours. Dr. Samuels," he tilted his head in Samuels' direction, "Located an energy source about thirty minutes from our location. We got there and found a rather advanced civilization. A city. It reminded me of Earth with skyscrapers—more advanced looking than ours—and lots of vehicles."
"They have transportation?" Elizabeth was excited. She knew the Wraith had tried to quell any resistance they came across in the Pegasus galaxy, going so far as to feed on any planet with anything resembling advanced technology. However, several races knew how to hide their technology.
"Yes, ma'am, they do." Lorne paused, unsure how to phrase his next thought. "They have a sort of wall around their city. It's not really visible to the naked eye unless you feel it. Cadman found that out the hard way."
"I didn't see it, okay? …My forehead still hurts."
Lorne smiled at her before turning back to Elizabeth. "They sent a security detail to cover our group when we arrived. They let us in, but not without us being escorted by a ton of guards."
Samuels spoke up, "The architecture of their buildings is impeccable. It's clean, it's precise, it's extravagant…And it's all powered by ZPMs."
Elizabeth was even more intrigued. "They have ZPMs?"
"Oh, yes. Well, we didn't actually see any ZPMs, but judging by my energy readings and the amount of power required to run all of their technology and the invisible technology on their city wall, it would take a rotation of four ZPMs to maintain that energy for even just two years. I can't see any other man-made energy source keeping their city from…well, shutting down."
"This…invisible technology," Elizabeth gestured with air quotes, "How much do you know about it?"
"Well, ma'am, we met with their leader, Theoron. Apparently, they have devices that can phase objects through solid matter." Elizabeth's eyes grew at that comment. "I don't think he wanted us to know, but we saw someone—quite literally—walk through a wall to enter a building on the street. It seems, according to Dr. Samuels, that they can manipulate light to make things invisible and also break complex particles down so that they can pass through solid matter."
"Wow…" Elizabeth was astonished. Acquiring the technology to go through solid matter would be extraordinarily beneficial to the expedition. And to go invisible! The Wraith and the Replicators would not even be able to see Atlantis, even if they did know it existed.
"There's a problem though, ma'am." Lorne's eyes were downcast. That didn't bode well.
"Major?"
"Their leader, Theoron. He doesn't want to trade for anything we have. He didn't even want to hear what we had to offer. Realistically, the negotiations were over before they even began."
This was a problem. Possibly surmountable, but still a problem, nonetheless. "Did you offer him a meeting with me?"
"Yes, I did, ma'am. He declined, saying that he would rather be isolated from us. I told him about the war with the Wraith and he said he doesn't want any part of it. He wants to remain objective."
Elizabeth sighed. "So, he's Switzerland then…Wonderful."
Lorne looked disappointed.
"Major, don't worry about it. We can't hope to change someone's mind when they don't know the full extent of the circumstances."
Lorne looked up questioningly, "Ma'am?"
"We're heading back to that planet. I'm going to talk to him myself." She was adamant about getting that technology. This was the break they—and Earth—needed in this war. This would forever shift the balance of power into Atlantis' favor. This would be their ace in the hole and it would completely turn the tables on the Wraith.
"But he said—"
"I know what he said, Major, but this technology has the potential to give us victory. A victory against the Wraith. And not just a small win, but the whole damn galaxy. And I do not intend to let this opportunity pass us by. So, enjoy the rest of the day and get some rest, all of you. We'll head back tomorrow at eight a.m., sharp."
"Yes, ma'am." Lorne and his team stood.
"You're dismissed, SG-2. Enjoy your day."
-------SGA-------
"John Sheppard, please report to Sector Four, Room 452."
Now what?
John was tired of all the running around. After having put his golf clubs back in the sports locker, he had to rush back to his office and sort out the vacation schedule for several of the marines before his meeting with Elizabeth. It wouldn't look very good to arrive at their meeting and not have anything to discuss. She'd be pissed at him, that's for sure.'
Quickly establishing a workable schedule for the next two weeks for the marines, John shoved everything into a folder and put it on top of his desk. He was close enough to mess hall that he could run here just before supper, pick up the folder and meet Elizabeth there.
He was looking forward to sitting down in the rec. room and watching a movie. And halfway there it's no surprise that he's redirected again.
John looked up and followed the green lines to Sector Four. Things had started to get confusing as people were called more and more to the outer sections of the cities, so Elizabeth came up with a plan to more efficiently maximize everyone's time and make it easier to reach their destination. The six main sections of the cities were given different colours. A line of paint ran along the wall from the middle section of Atlantis to each respective section of the city with the designated color. Section Four was the color green, so John followed the nearest green to a transporter.
Using the map on the wall, John touched the nearest transporter location to room 452. He recognized it as a room that SG-6 had wanted to investigate after reports from Rodney that the Ancients may have harbored back-up drones there. He and Elizabeth had discussed what the best plan of action would be and both agreed upon looking into it.
He hoped he wasn't going to regret that decision.
After a very uneventful five minute walk from the transporter, John 'thought' the door open to room 452. With a 'whoosh' it rushed open and John was staring into the eyes of Lieutenant Waldon. "Lieutenant," John started, "Why am I here?"
Waldon glanced over his shoulder and John could see the other members of SG-6 rooting around in several large containers as high as John's waist. The Lieutenant returned his attention to John. "Guess what we found?"
He was smiling. That unnerved John, but they must have found something good. Especially since they called him all the way out here. "What is it?"
"Drones."
And now John was smiling. They nearly depleted all their drones for the chair during their latest clashes with the Wraith. A completely new and fully stocked supply would be insane. Rodney wasn't going to be happy now that John had more toys to play with.
"Well, let me see!" John through his hands up the air and bounced around with newfound energy. All of SG-6 was excited as well, seeing John's pleased expression.
John tapped his headpiece. "Rodney! We found the golden ticket!" Leaning over the edge of one of the containers, John stared down at their contents. Lovely, yellow drones stared back, ready to be locked, loaded and used to blow the Wraith out of the sky. It felt like Christmas.
A crackling at his hear let him know Rodney was responding, "What was that? A Willy Wonka reference? We're in the rec. room watching Die Hard right now."
"Well then yippie-kay-yay, 'cause SG-6 just found the mother load. Crates full of drones, Rodney."
Silence.
"Rodney? Are you there?"
"Yes…" A soft voice came back. "How many drones?"
"Hundreds, Rodney! There's tons here!" John placed his hand over one and felt the hard metal against his hand. It was cool to the touch. Something this deadly shouldn't feel so calming.
Silence.
"Rodney?"
"Hold on, would you? This is a good part of the movie."
John sighed and gave up. If Rodney wasn't going to join in on his happiness, then he could enjoy it all. He couldn't wait to tell Elizabeth.
"Hey Waldon! I'll be sure to tell Elizabeth what you found! Keep unloading them and I'll go get a team to help you carry 'em to the drone room." The drone room. That's what Rodney had come up with for the room below the 'chair room.' Real original.
Stepping out into the hallway, John spotted the green line of paint and began following it back to the transporter. The humming from Atlantis comforted John. A constant whir of noise that could lull one to sleep. It was awfully easy to find yourself listening to the sounds of Atlantis when one was alone.
"Halfway there," he spoke aloud, counting the number of turns it took to reach room 452. And on turn number seven, a rumbling took place that John could not have predicted. Atlantis screamed in pain in his mind and John grabbed his head, falling back against the nearest wall to the intersection.
The pain was excruciating. It felt like a migraine coupled with a lobotomy. John leaned against the wall for support, trying to maintain his balance and stay upright. Atlantis was hurt. John wanted to help, but could barely even think through all the noise. A loud, obtrusive sound was in his head and he couldn't get it out.
And then the wall blew open. Shrapnel went flying. John was lifted off his feet and thrown down the hallway.
And light turned to dark as John was knocked unconscious.
-------SGA-------
Time passed.
Quickly? Slowly? None at all?
His head hurt. That was to be expected, but it was still extremely painful.
He could smell burning. That meant one of two things. Either something was on fire or he was about to experience a stroke. Hopefully it was the former.
A hand on his head. Who the hell was that? Oh, right. That was his own hand.
Cracking open an eyelid, John blinked furiously to adjust to the light. Of course the lights still worked. A wall blows the hell open and, unsurprisingly, the lights still worked. Reality doesn't have to make sense, apparently.
And then the other eye opened. Blink. Blink. Blink. No dust. No smoke. Which means everything had settled and become stabilized. For now.
John struggled to sit up, using his elbows to roll over. Pressing his hands against the floor, he pushed up and leaned back against the closest wall. Hopefully this one wouldn't blow up too.
The ringing in his ears disappeared. His head cleared. He eyed the wreckage at the other end of the hallway from his position. The entire wall had collapsed. Naturally, no transporters were located this far out in Sector Four. Sectors One, Three and Five had exterior transporters since their naquadah generators were required to power the outside areas of the city. Coincidence? Highly unlikely.
Some kind of liquid was pouring down the right side of his face and John guessed what it is before he felt it. Blood. Lifting his right hand up, he touched the thick liquid and pulled his hand away, staring at the dark red mixture on his hands.
Great. Just great.
He needed to call for help. His headpiece had disappeared somewhere. That wasn't surprising since that would make it too easy to get out of this situation.
John used the wall to support himself as he used a hand to pull himself up. He laughed to himself, wondering who won the pool and picked the right date as to when Sheppard would next end up injured. Probably Zelenka. He was much better at gambling than anyone gave him credit for, that sneaky Czech.
Well, that didn't sound right. John couldn't hear his own laugh. He tried again and said, "Hello" to himself. Still couldn't hear it.
Taking a step forward, John teetered and crashed down on his left side. Gasping for breath, he realized what was wrong. The explosion had done more than just give him a head wound and disorient him. It had also done much more than block off his route to the center of Atlantis.
It rendered his hearing useless. Permanently.
He was deaf.