The group of drones parted, allowing another wraith through.
"Who are you?" it demanded.
"Uh,"
The wraith inhaled deeply. Rodney could only watch, throughly terrified as well as confused.
"You are Lantean?"
"No, uh I mean... Wait, you could tell that just by smelling me?"
"Follow," the wraith said, gesturing for him to follow. Rodney wasn't about to argue seeing as any fight he put up probably wouldn't last long. He searched his memory to try and remember if he ever read anything about what the wraith did with Lantean prisoners. His memory drew a blank since they always figured they were just killed on sight.
His mind delved into imagining the many horrible ways that he could die here when the wraith turned to the left into a room. Rodney then realized that he wasn't being followed by the group of wraith drones. In fact, nobody was following him at all.
Inside the room, there was an assortment of humans, as well as wraith. The scene reminded him of a wraith version of a war room. He supposed these were the ones coordinating the attack occurring inside the secret facility.
The wraith caught the attention of one of the humans who was standing off to the side concentrating on the proceedings. He was dressed in the Lantean military uniform, just like the one's he'd seen the crew-members wearing on the Aurora. That was certainly the last thing he would have expected to see aboard a wraith ship.
The man turned his attention Rodney. "Who are you?" he demanded.
"I'm Doctor McKay," he said timidly. "Sorry, what's going on?"
"This one here says he believes you are Lantean."
"Yes," Rodney lied, trying to appear confident. "Yes, I am."
"What were you doing on this planet?"
"I was a prisoner."
The man scrutinized him momentarily. "That is unusual. Perhaps it is not surprising seeing as how desperate and foolish the Sorians were."
"Yes, how dare they," Rodney stated.
"What is your operating code?"
Rodney frantically tried to think of something to respond with. He was sure he had come across the term before, but what did it mean?
"Pro Sep Do At," he said, still not sure what context he'd seen that sequence before.
"Atlantis?" the man asked.
"Yes,"
The man gestured around him and suddenly several other men in Lantean uniform were aiming weapons at him.
"I'm sorry we will be forced to do this." The man said, his tone unapologetic.
Another person in Lantean uniform walked in through the door, except this time the face and the distinct gait he recognized.
The man who was interviewing Rodney looked awestruck briefly before he snapped to attention, placing his heels together and his arms straight by his side. All the others in the room did the same except for the wraith who looked annoyed. Rodney couldn't help himself in gaping. How had he gotten onto this ship? Also, how did he change his clothes so fast?
"General Foralkus," the man addressed. "We were not expecting you here."
"Stand at rest," Svard said. The man eased somewhat but was still standing tensely.
"I was trying to determine where this man came from and what his business was."
"I know where he's from," Svard replied. "I've been expecting him. Actually that's why I'm here. Come with me Doctor McKay." Svard addressed.
Rodney stepped forward and followed as Svard left the room.
"What did you tell them?" Svard whispered to him when they were a safe distance away. "It looked like they were preparing to do something unpleasant to you."
"They thought I was from Atlantis." Rodney said.
"That seems to be a trend with you. I also expected it would take you longer to find the ring transporter."
"What the heck is going on here? How are you here right now?"
"I have my ways," Svard said cryptically.
"What about this?" Rodney said gesturing to the innards of the wraith ship around them. "This is a wraith ship."
"And you are wondering why members of the Lantean military are on board and collaborating with the wraith?"
"Well, yeah. I mean it just doesn't make any sense."
"No it doesn't Doctor. For the past few years it hasn't made any sense; why we are fighting with them on one front and secretly working with them on another. In all my years, I've never seen a time when the Lantean government showed such duplicity and deception."
"Why are you here?"
"I am General Foralkus, otherwise known as Tev Svard to you and all those on Soria. I am here because the place I was hiding is now under attack from my own military."
"So you were hiding from your own military?"
"I have long since been retired from service, but since all this wraith nonsense started, I've been trying to stay out of sight, quietly trying to piece together why this is happening. I can't say for sure, but I can guess the attack on Soria was probably punishment in response to them spreading the word among their allies what they know about the Lantean-wraith involvement."
"But why would your people do that?"
"As I said, I don't know. Fortunately, or perhaps unfortunately, It seems you've given me the opportunity to become more directly involved in finding out." They rounded the bend back to the alcove in which the ring transporter resided.
"Where are we going?"
"The wraith will be at the front, causing the destruction, but there is likely to be a Lantean battle cruiser just out of sight."
They stepped into the middle of the transporter. Svard raised his wrist to fiddle with something which resembled a wristwatch.
"We've never seen a ring transporter on a wraith ship before," Rodney remarked. "I thought that was something that was only found in the Milky Way."
"What about milk?" Svard asked without looking up. Rodney rolled his eyes, suspecting that the man was probably a little hard of hearing. He thought of explaining that was the name they used to refer to his own galaxy, but he didn't have the motivation to explain it.
The ring transporter activated, and in the next instant they were both standing inside a Lantean ship.
"I've informed the captain to expect our arrival."
Svard walked with a partial limp through the hallways with purpose, obviously knowing exactly where he was going. After one elevator and considerable distance, probably half a mile worth of walking, they reached the bridge. Rodney worried about the man being old as he was and having difficulty walking, but he showed no sign of pain or slowing down. As Rodney walked in, he couldn't help but be amazed at the large windows that encircled the bridge. The room was darkened, allowing him to see the expanse of stars outside, as well as a slightly larger bright speck which he supposed was the planet he was on only a little while ago.
The ship's captain stood near the entrance, his rank denoted by the slightly different uniform which Rodney recognized from the Aurora crew.
"General," the man started. "I received your message, and I must say this comes as a surprise to everyone."
"I've been quietly conducting business on behalf of the Lantean council ever since I retired."
"I see," the captain said. "Then I shall inform them of your arrival."
"That won't be necessary," Svard said. "They will likely already know we're on board."
The captain looked uneasy. "You understand this mission is classified. I hope you have not used improper channels of communication."
"I know more about classified missions than anyone on board this ship." Svard said forcefully. "Captain."
"Very well sir," the captain said, retreating.
Radek tried to avoid slipping as he pulled on the rope, dragging the device up to the gate. The stargate was in a perfectly spherical cavern, centered around this strange object. From what he imagined, the device had kept the ice melted around the stargate for several thousand years, just enough to keep it uncovered from snow. He tried not to think of all the weight of ice that must be above his head.
"You got it?" Lorne asked, referring to the his traction on the ice.
"I think..." was all he could say before his boots lost traction and he fell on his left shoulder. He stood up again quickly. "I'm okay." he said. The device looked a bit like a malp. It was about the same weight, and size, but all it had was a set of metal skids on which it was resting. They had succeeded with much effort in moving it ten feet, about halfway to the gate
"All right, before we take this any further," Lorne said, reaching his for his GDO. Just as Lorne entered the code, the device made a noise. Radek flinched backward a little as the device produced a set of tracks. The device propelled itself slowly and clumsily under it's own power up the ice ramp and toward the gate.
"You're sure it's not dangerous?" Lorne asked.
"Uh, I don't think so. At least from what tests I've been able to do on it here, I think that it's some sort of sub-space transmitter. At least I know it's power source doesn't have enough capacity left to be used as an explosive weapon."
"Convienient," Lorne said as he and Radek followed the device through the gate.
Upon reaching the other side, they saw the device had stopped moving after clearing the gate. Dr Weir was already in the room waiting for them.
"What is it?" Weir asked.
"We're not sure yet," Radek said, brushing the melting snow from his coat. "I've already determined it's a sub space transmitter, but I can't say what it's function is or why it was left on that planet. It's general appearance suggests the Ancients designed it."
"Is this the device which sent the message you received?"
"I don't know yet. I'll know more once I've gotten the opportunity to study it a little more."
"Was there any sign that anyone had accessed the device recently?"
"None, Ma'am," Lorne answered. "There were no footprints at all in the cavern until we arrived."
"Do what you need to," Weir instructed, "So far this is the only lead we have on whatever happened to Rodney."
Radek stepped closer to the device which had accrued a layer of frost it the moments it had been resting. He looked it over, noticing details about its construction which he hadn't been able to see in the dark cavern. He noticed something inscribed on the trim of the device. He removed the glove from his hand and placed his hand on the spot, trying to melt it away. When he removed his hand, it took him a moment to process the words written on it.
The superstructure of the device had the name 'Rodney McKay,' stamped onto it.
Rodney frowned as he examined the style of the Lantean uniform in the small mirror his cabin had installed. The room was packed with bunk beds and apparently the ship had a full contingent on board, meaning that for the last two days, he was forced to 'hot bunk.' He tried the floor at first, but it wasn't working out.
Svard had explained that he would be dropped off in Atlantis when the ship landed for maintenance. He had been given an operating code, which was something like an ID card. The code identified him as belonging to research and exploration based in Atlantis. Rodney could only wonder what connections that old man could have to be able to pull off something like that. To be honest, that didn't enthuse him as much as he thought it would. Not too long ago, he would have given his eye-teeth for an opportunity to travel back in time and see Atlantis as it was before the war. Now that he was here, all he could think about was getting home to his own time.
Svard explained that he would return to the city and request to be admitted to stay there, to call it his place of residence. His connections as well as recognition as an esteemed leader of the Lantean military would lend heavily to him being accepted. While he was there, he said he would try to quietly infiltrate the Lantean Council and find the source of what he referred to as the 'wraith nonsense.' According to him, only a select few people would know about Lantean involvement with the wraith. In the eyes of everybody else in the city, they were just some far away threat that their supposedly powerful military was quickly taking care of.
Rodney's tired mind ran through all that was going on. He thought of trying to find a way to get back to his own time, but his mind quickly wandered to all the peculiar and disturbing things Svard had told him about what the Lanteans were secretly doing. Svard suspected that his military working with the wraith was to provide some sort of front, to accomplish certain things without the scrutiny of the people in Atlantis or of the other civilizations involved. So far, their involvement was of providing strategy during attacks of human populated worlds. The attacks seemed random, except in the case of Soria, which was attacked for the purpose of preventing information about the Lanteans from spreading. He said that sort of evil was unprecedented in all their recorded history.
Rodney had been stripped of all his supplies when the Sorians had imprisoned him, so he didn't have anything to carry with him except the clothes he was wearing. He exited the cabin and walked toward the mess hall to find something fried and greasy to eat for breakfast. He shuffled along at a slow pace, tired from sleepless nights. He wasn't about to share a bunk with somebody else, no matter the circumstance.
Rodney had studied into the theories on time travel. He had performed research alongside those involved in with the stargate program. They knew the gate could be used to travel through time, as was the obvious case with him. The only way they knew it worked was by routing a wormhole close to a star during a solar flare event. The one that sent him back ten millenia had to be a very large event.
That led into all the logistical problems in getting back. He would need access to a stargate. That could be possibly be arranged, but then he would need to a way to predict which star out of the billions in the galaxy would undergo a solar flare, what magnitude and when. In other words, it was impossible, and he would likely be stuck here.
Somebody nudged his shoulder. He looked up and blinked, trying to get his tired eyes to focus.
"This way," Svard motioned, pulling him along a deserted hallway.
"We need to discuss further what you need to do when we arrive in Atlantis in a few hours. You can't go through the normal channels since you aren't registered as personnel."
"Well great," Rodney said through a yawn, "What do I do now?"
"You'll need to use an alternative means of entering," Svard explained. "You've told me that you know the layout of the city?"
"Well, yes from my time, but what if it...?"
"You also said you have the ability to operate our technology."
"Sure."
"Then you should be able to find your way through the service hallways in the bilge levels. You will need to have your likeness documented before you can move freely about the city."
"How do I do that?"
"You need to find the..." He stopped, plausibly unable to remember. "The personnel registry," he completed after a brief pause You should find one in the department where you'll be working."
"Got it," Rodney said, affirming that he understood.
"I'll have someone there waiting."
Svard stopped in front of a doorway which led into one of the higher class private cabins. The door opened seemingly of it's own accord.
"Oh you're kidding." Rodney said, seeing the spacious room with a carpeted floor and furniture. Svard took a step in and grinned, showing a few missing teeth. "I have my own private bedroom as well as a private bath."
"Well how nice for you." Rodney complained. The door closed between them.
A wind gust almost blew him over as the rings departed upward. He looked around him, the bright sunshine shadowed by the structure of the ship above him. He would have to get out of here quickly before someone noticed. Rodney started a fast walk toward the edge of the landing pad, but then started running seeing how slowly he appeared to be moving relative to everything else. Assuming nothing had changed, and that was a pretty large assumption, then there should be an access tunnel right at the tip of the pier.
After a few minutes of jogging, he was throughly tired, but he had reached the edge. He looked down over the edge at the water, the waves crashing against it sending spray almost all the way up the edge. There was no access tunnel here. He searched around and saw the ladder about a hundred feet to the left of him. He looked back to where the ship was resting, trying to orient himself. He shrugged, resolving that it wasn't important.
He reached the ladder and climbed down, thankful that the ladder seemed to be constructed of a corrosion resistant material. The last thing he needed was to have to pull rust shards out of his hands. He reached the tunnel, a gaping wide opening in the side wall with water stains leading out the bottom.
This tunnel was used primarily for pumping the bilge areas of water if flooding ever became an issue. He stepped off the ladder into the metal tunnel, his footsteps clanging dully. He moved forward quickly to try and reach the service hatch farther before somebody decided to turn on the bilge.
As the light from the end of the tunnel faded, the tunnel became lit intermittently by dim algae covered lamps, which only provided enough illumination to keep him from bumping his head. He felt a breeze oppose his motion. He stopped, but still felt the rush of oncoming air.
"Oh crap," he said, in slightly higher pitch than he wanted. He turned and tried to run, but the swiftness of his motion caused him to slip and fall. He stood up quickly and began to walk swiftly, just slow enough not to slip. He could hear the roar of the water behind him. He turned around and could see the onrushing water covering one lamp after another down the tunnel. There was no way he could outrun this thing now. He did the only thing he could think of, which was to wrap his arms around his head and sit down.
"It was definitely Rodney that built it," Radek explained to Dr. Weir, who was hovering just behind his shoulder. The parts and pieces of the transmitter were scattered all over the table in front of him.
Dr. Weir picked up a circuit board and examined it. "Now what would give you that idea?" she asked with a slight smile. She turned the piece around, noting the letters 'R M' soldered into the layout.
"Yes, well that sort of thing is embedded all over this device. There was some water damage to the internal circuitry when we brought it back. Apparently there was some water trapped inside which melted when it warmed up. We're working on recovering some of the data stored."
"Do you ever remember Rodney working on something like this."
"I don't" Radek replied. "I can't even think of when he would have had enough time to do something like this."
"Keep working on it, and keep me posted."
He had already been underwater for ten seconds. The force of the water tossed him around, scraping his limbs against the rough seams of the metal tunnel. It wouldn't be far before he was thrown over the side and into the ocean. The flow of water stopped, and everything became still. Rodney waited, hoping that the tunnel would clear itself of water. Twenty seconds had passed, and he felt as if he couldn't resist inhaling regardless of whether it was water or air. Rodney reached out and noticed a the force of the water flow was still pushing on him. The water was still being pumped out! He was about the retract his hand when his fingertips struck against something of a different consistency than water. He stood up slowly against the stream of water and his head broke the surface. He gasped, inhaling the salty rotten algae smell of the water. The tunnel was only partially full and seemed to be draining. He turned around, shocked to see the exit only feet away from where he was standing. Beyond that, the remaining water was still draining over the edge. He trudged forward, determined to reach the service hatch before that happened again.
Minutes later, he reached the hatch and turned the lock open, a whole deluge of water following him out as he entered one of the bilge control rooms. He turned around and attempted to close the hatch, but the force of water pushed back, making it very difficult to finally close and latch it. If he was trying to keep his entrance a secret, the water all over the place wasn't a good way to hide it. An alarm on a nearby control panel sounded.
"Oh great," Rodney said, beginning a jog to avoid being discovered.
He walked some distance before the floor cleared of water and noticed the sloshing sound his shoes made as he stepped. It was still about a mile to go before he reached the section he was looking for. He had a pretty good idea where he would have to go to get himself officially registered as belonging in the city.
Even after a mile of walking, his shoes were still sloshing, and his clothes were still pretty well soaked. He had to avoid the transporters since they were frequently transited and he didn't want to draw too much attention.
He received awkward stares as he neared the section. The stairways were the worst since the area was confined and he began to notice that he smelled a bit like a fish.
He reached the room where he was heading, and he noticed someone standing outside. Rodney approached. The man stared at him as though he couldn't believe his appearance.
"Are you the one I'm supposed to...?"
"Probably," Rodney said, "Let's get this over with."
"Right. I've been informed that you have an operating code, but are not currently registered within the city."
"That's right."
The man directed him through the doorway down a mostly deserted hallway. "Normally you would need to go through official channels to receive permission to dwell in the city, which could take months before everything is sorted out. I have the means to expedite that process."
"Great," Rodney said with little enthusiasm. He felt something touching his shoulder. He looked over and saw the man had taken a bit of seaweed off his shoulder and cast it to the floor.
"You're going to have your likeness recorded, so you will want to appear your best."
