*Disclaimer's still apply - see chapter 1*
A.N. Thanks to the amazing renisanz for being the beta on this. This story would be far less interesting without your guidance.
Elizabeth had been working hard in her office all afternoon. If you had asked she would have told you it was simply the never-ending paperwork that came with running an expedition to another galaxy. The expedition—on the other hand—knew that, in reality, she was vainly attempting to ease the growing anxiety regarding SGA-9's current mission. At the moment, there was still one hour before the team was due to check in and logic said they were probably enjoying the local festivities in their role as honoured guests. So why couldn't Elizabeth shake the feeling of impending doom?
Elizabeth looked around her office again, suddenly feeling like she was trapped in a cage. Maybe she should take a walk on the promenade to relax? That was it. She would go for a quick walk and be back in plenty of time for the check-in. Elizabeth had made it as far as the control room when the gate started to activate.
"Raising shield," Chuck calmly stated, putting down the coffee he had just started drinking.
Elizabeth anxiously looked towards the gate. "IDC?"
"We are receiving a transmission and IDC. It is SGA-9, Dr. Weir" Julie, a new British transfer, responded.
"Patch them through."
"Atlantis, lower the shield we're coming in hot. Wraith are on our tails and closing."
"Lieutenant Johnson, is the planet being culled?" Elizabeth asked.
"It's never that simple, Ma'am. Can we explain when we get back?" Johnson's voice sounded winded and was starting to crackle with interference.
"Of course, lieutenant. Chuck, lower the shield."
"Already done, Ma'am," Chuck replied. The entire gate room had gone to high alert. Marines now lined the gate room stairs, adding protection to the gate and incoming team. Technicians were literally buzzing around the control room checking monitors, rehashing transmissions, and re-examining sensor data. Elizabeth was also not the least surprised when she saw SGA-1 standing by, silently taking in the surrounding chaos and evaluating where their presence was most needed. Everyone on the expedition knew their jobs and were doing them with a skill and expertise that reassured Elizabeth as she helplessly watched on.
Moments later, a battered SGA-9 came crashing through the event horizon, wraith stunner's firing behind them and scorching the walls of the gate room.
"Raise shields!" Elizabeth shouted.
SGA-9 glanced behind them as the impending wraith stunners connected with the newly raised shield and breathed a sigh of relief.
"Lieutenant Johnson, what's your team's status?" Col. Sheppard barked out, making his presence known to the rest of the room.
"Cuts and scrapes mostly, sir," the weary lieutenant responded, on the verge of collapse.
"I want all of you to report to the infirmary for your post mission check immediately. Briefing with myself and Dr. Weir in 30. I want to know what in the hell happened on that planet!" Sheppard snapped.
With a weary nod, SGA-9 allowed the Atlantis medics to lead them to the infirmary, their adrenaline finally having run out.
Elizabeth shook her head at the memories and went to get a refill on her tea. To think in a matter of hours things had changed so drastically, such was the nature of life in Pegasus. Lieutenant Johnson had arrived at the briefing room 25 minutes later. He looked as though he were preparing himself for battle as he recounted the mission's last hours to Elizabeth and SGA- back Elizabeth realised that's exactly what the Lieutenant had been doing. Elizabeth paused briefly, once again recalling Lieutenant Johnson's rigid posture and haunted eyes as he recounted his team's experience.
The harvest festival had started like any other festival the Lantean teams had participated in during prior missions. Beginning during a large, delicious afternoon meal, the celebration had been marked by food, fun, and an abundance of tiandra leaf wine, the local equivalent of moonshine. With SGA-9 holding the role of honoured guests, the entire team had been introduced to much of the town's population, enjoying the atmosphere, and thanking their lucky stars to have found a sane ally at last. The entire team, that is, except their scientist Dr. Creighton.
In what turned out to be the biggest blessing of the night, the good doctor could simply not let go of the mysterious writings he had uncovered in the temple. As a result, he had requested aid from one of Atlantis' linguists, a Dr. Rachel Eason. The two had decided to forego the party spending their time working feverishly on the translation, citing a low tolerance to alcohol (and a preference of each other's company) as an excuse to sneak away from the larger group. It was there, as the moon began to rise that the duo discovered the festivities true nature.
Many generations ago, not long after the evacuation of Atlantis. The wraith had begun a massive culling before returning to hibernation while their "livestock" repopulated. The Vodeen home world had been one of the most severely affected planets during these raids, losing 85% of the planet's population in 3 days. However, some of the cities had survived by proving their loyalty to their wraith captors. These survivors not only gave up their former trade partners providing gate addresses and ground intelligence, but they also gave evidence as to the Vodeen's role as double agents during the great war. Atlantis hadn't even realised her efforts were being hampered. Ever since that time the Vodeen home world had become a irrefutable haven for Wraith worshippers everywhere.
This transition from livestock to worshipper (or from sane to nut job, in John's opinion) was still marked every year through the Vodeen harvest festival. During the festivities, the honoured guests were offered to a Wraith contingent as a symbolical sacrifice before the Vodeen would join their 'gods' in the next round of cullings. If not for the quick thinking of Lieutenant Johnson and the persistence of the scientists SGA-9 would have become the next symbolic meal. Elizabeth shuddered at the thought.
Overall, SGA-9 had taken almost becoming wraith chow relatively well, and yes, that is what the team had written in their official report. (Elizabeth silently wondered if there was any way to temper John's influence on his men. The official reports were only getting more interesting as the expedition's length increased and SGC was starting to ask questions about all of the team's mental health, not just SGA-1).
Following the briefing, Elizabeth and John agreed that Atlantis should remain on high alert pending any possible retaliation from the Vodeen. Elizabeth surveyed the area and was content. Her men were safe, Atlantis had settled back into standard procedure, they were well protected, well supplied, and the tension had lessened. After today all Elizabeth wanted was a hot shower and a good night sleep.
John had to admit the hot shower and bed sounded like a great idea, an amazing idea. He too had been concerned for SGA-9 during the fiasco and had been off-world with his own team until mid-afternoon, leaving him tired but comfortably so. John, however, did not feel the same relief as Elizabeth. He knew the Vodeen's type, and people like that didn't usually take defeat well. In fact, it usually pissed them off. John wished Elizabeth a good night and went off to have his men check Atlantis' defences and prepare for the worst, hoping against all hope that he too would be allowed a few hours sleep before the night was over.
John would not be that lucky.