Chapter 2
"So what did…" Rodney's question died on his lips as he, too, took in what was inside the chamber.
Stacked neatly in rows upon rows, like bookshelves in a library, were dozens of cases of drones, stretching across the entire length of the room. The holding units, built like hives with hexagons to host the inactive drones, were all completely full. There were no drones missing in any of the seen units, and all the drones looked slick and brand new even though they were over ten thousand years old.
On the right wall was a sort of white stripe of some kind of a metal on which personal shields were neatly hung, rows and rows of them from one end of the chamber to the other. Just below them were Lantean personal weapons, held in a special device that kept them upright. They were exactly like those John had seen on the Aurora, and the quantity of them was dazzling.
And by the left wall were…
"Three ZedPMs," Rodney whispered in awe, approaching the stand slowly, almost like he was hypnotized. And indeed, inside a stand made out of the same hexagons that held the drones, were three ZPMs glowing bright with the kind of strong and steady light that indicated that they were fully charged.
Even Teyla and Ronon came to stare at the precious devices in silent awe. They were all so shocked at their discovery that they forgot that Noman was there with them.
"I see that you've found what you were looking for?" Noman asked gently, snapping them all out of their trance-like state.
Rodney and John turned to look at him, and John nodded. "Oh, I'd say we definitely found it. We just never expected to find so many of it," he said, gesturing at the chamber with his chin before turning back to look at all those Ancient weapons once more.
"We have to count them," Rodney said suddenly, taking out a notepad and a pen. "And we can start with three ZedPMs," he added gleefully. "How about Teyla count the personal shields, Ronon the Lantean personal weapons and Sheppard, you and I will count the drones?" he said, and without waiting for a response started counting the rows of the drone holding units.
John counted as well. There were twenty horizontal rows on six vertical, which meant that every holding unit hosted one hundred and twenty individual drones. And after a quick count it turned out that there were fifty units, which added up to…
"Six thousand drones," Rodney said hoarsely. John noticed the quivering in his hand as he wrote that number down, but couldn't bring himself to tease him about it. For starters, the only thing that currently filled his mind was the number six thousand, and secondly, his own stomach was lodged somewhere in his throat and he didn't think he could produce any sound at the moment.
Rodney looked up at John with solemn eyes. "John, we've got to convince them to let us have it all," he said, using John's first name in his excitement. "I can't even begin to tell you the number of uses we could put three ZedPMs and six thousand drones to, but there's a lot. We've got to get them to let us take it," he stressed again.
"And how am I supposed to do that, Rodney? It's not like its just one ZPM that we can take with us in a bag or something!" John hissed back at him, knowing just how poorly adapted he was for this task. The people of Olam had no reason to hand over all these weapons to them, and he sucked at diplomacy. Woolsey should have been there instead of him.
"No, this isn't just one ZedPM, this is an entire armory of Ancient weapons and there is nothing stopping us from taking it all other than the natives' permission. Talk to them, promise them help or medicines or ships, hell, promise them the moon! We need those three ZedPMs, John," Rodney's hand grabbed John's arm and he squeezed in emphasis.
Teyla and Ronon, accompanied by Noman, appeared next to them before Rodney had a chance to say something more. "With Noman's help we have counted five hundred personal shields, Rodney," Teyla said, smiling graciously at Noman, who smiled back kindly.
"And seven hundred personal weapons," Ronon added, and John felt his head spinning. They could give every member of the expedition a personal shield and a weapon and still have some to spare.
"I gather that you're interested in taking all of it home, Colonel?" Noman asked, his face deceptively calm.
John turned to look at him, wary. Noman might be a nice person, but if he was some sort of minister then he wasn't stupid. At least, not stupid enough to allow total strangers to take an arsenal of weapons with no idea what they were going to do with them.
"Yes, we would. I'd be happy to talk to you about what you would like in return for these," he said, carefully, watching Noman's reaction.
But Noman simply smiled. "Let us go outside. If we linger too long others may come looking for us. It might also be advisable to lock this room again. Using your unique ability, of course," he said, looking at John for his approval. Hesitantly, John nodded. The ball was in Noman's court and they both knew it.
They made their way out (Ronon had to drag Rodney from veering towards the ZPMs) and blinked in the sun for a minute before adjusting to the natural light once more. John put his hand up where the wall was supposed to be and thought it closed, and the wall reappeared under his hand with startling ease.
He expected to be taken back to where they had sat before, or maybe even to meet with whatever passed as a government on this planet. Instead, Noman led them a few feet away from the Ancient chamber to where a group of rocks rose from the ground and sat on one, clearly waiting for them to do the same.
John sat down next to him and watched the excavation site when Noman turned to watch it as well. The workers resumed their activity there, some standing under the shadings and cataloguing artifacts and some coming and going from the small cave where the Stargate stood.
John had no idea what to say, or how to say it, so he opted for the truth. "Look. It's obvious that there's nothing your people can use any of those things for. If I wasn't here to open it for you, you would never have known that there was something behind the stone wall," John started.
"You might be right and you might not be right, Colonel. Even if I'm inclined to agree with you I can't determine anything without further information. For starters, I would very much like to know how you did what you just did," Noman replied with the same deceptive calm from before. John had a feeling that he was playing a game that he didn't know the rules of, and it put him on edge.
"I have a gene that allows me to operate Ancient… uh, Ancestral technology. Most of the things they built were designed to be operated by people who have this particular gene," John began, but saw that Noman didn't understand him.
"A… 'gene'?"
"There are different genes in the human body, like the gene for green eyes and brown hair and big hands and such. These genes determine our physical traits," John tried to explain, and was relieved when Noman's face was flooded with understanding.
"Yes, we are familiar with the concept, even if we have a different term for it. We have only recently made those significant leaps in our medicine and science," Noman confirmed. From the back Rodney muttered something about how this placed Olam somewhere near the level of development of Earth around 1900, maybe even less, before Ronon shut him up, but John hurried to jump at the opportunity.
"That's great. We can help you there, we discovered DNA a long time ago and we can even manipulate it and map it. Not to mention many more other medical and scientific advancements that we've made that we'd be willing to share, including," he offered temptingly, "gate technology. We'd be happy to provide you with the knowledge of how to operate the Stargate and a list of planets that are safe and friendly."
John thought it was a good proposal. Clearly these people have been cut off from the gate network for generations and thus hadn't heard of Atlantis' reputation, but they were about to earn a very powerful friend. A sneaked look at Rodney, Ronon and Teyla showed their approval and he turned back to Noman, smiling victoriously.
Noman, however, smiled a small and private smile and returned to observing the archeologists at the site. "I'm sure you are, Colonel. However I'm not sure that my people are ready for so many new discoveries at once. We have a number of revolutionary ideas circling around, one of them being the confirmation of the Cataclysm and the legends surrounding it, and more information will simply cause unnecessary confusion."
John watched, confused and dismayed at being rejected, as Noman touched the diagonal stripe that crossed his chest absently before turning back to look at him. "We are only now entering the era of discoveries. Until now, and even now, we consider ourselves as inventors and artists. The minds of Olam's inventors are fertile with ideas, and the imagination of Olam's painters is wild. As a matter of fact, regardless of whether we are alone in the universe or not, I'm sure that Olam's artists are the best in this galaxy," Noman said with unveiled pride.
John grinned back at him, then turned to look at Teyla who sat on his other side on the rock. "I'm sure Lorne would be overjoyed coming here," he commented, and she smiled back.
Noman's brow creased. "Does this Lorne have a special appreciation for art?" he asked, curious, and John tried a different approach. Maybe some cultural knowledge would tempt these people more.
"Oh yeah, he likes art very much. He even paints. I'm sure he would be happy to come here and show you some of our works of art, if that's what your people appreciate," John said enthusiastically, but inside he was uneasy. These people, with their preference for art and culture over medicine and science, reminded him of Proculus and nothing good came out of there.
"We would be happy to host him here. Who is he?" Noman replied warmly, very much interested now. John suddenly remembered that he was talking with the equivalent of the minister of culture and history. Of course he would be happy.
"He's my second, and we have centuries of art that he can show you," John answered, and moved on to something that wasn't as revolutionary as manipulating DNA. "We can also give you cures for different illnesses. Flu, some types of Cancer, Hepatitis… uh…" John fumbled for something to say that would not involve art and culture about which he had no idea, and was aware that Hepatitis and Cancer meant nothing to Noman.
"We have found a procedure that can save the lives of those infected with the Second Childhood," Teyla came to his aid, and John sent her a grateful look. "We can offer and even teach you…" Teyla trailed off, her brow creasing as she looked at Noman.
As John turned back to Noman too he found Noman staring at him, a strange look in his eyes. The gentle breeze ruffled his brown hair and blew it into his eyes, but it was only after a very long time that he blinked and averted his gaze.
Noman looked at the ground, smiling. "You want the contents of that chamber, Colonel Sheppard. In truth, we probably have no use for it. I'll be happy to give everything in that chamber to you if you and your Second would help me in return," he said finally, and when he looked back up his smile was somewhat unpleasant.
John looked at Teyla, but she couldn't offer him any insight into what was going on. "Okay, sure. What do you need?" John asked, cautious.
"Our world is heading towards elections. We are at our last round, and I have petitioned to lead the combined interests of Olam. I'll attempt to give you a short explanation about our governing system, so that you'll have a better understanding of what I ask.
"There are two rounds of elections. On the first round any person or group may participate, as long as they represent a new interest for the people of Olam. The residents of Olam choose who they want to continue on to the last round of elections according to the various interests being represented," Noman started.
"Oh. Like adopting a certain low proposal and being elected according to it," Rodney chimed in from Teyla's other side. Ronon beside him looked at Noman with suspicion.
"The two interests that received the most votes will be the final nominees, and the decision will fall between them. Until the time of the second elections each of the losing interests from the previous round must ally themselves with one of the two main rival interests, and that is so that after the elections the winning interest will have supporters in the Council of Law that decides which interest will be made into a law. The party that suggested the winning interest must fill sixty of the hundred seats of the Council, while the party that suggested the losing interest has only forty."
"So it's like a politician whose platform is a low proposal that must make coalitional treaties with less popular politicians in order to secure a majority after the elections. And the winning politician's law proposal will be made into an actual law because he has the majority of the council on his side and the support of the people, and the people are happy because other popular law proposals will also be turned into laws because of the coalitional treaties," Rodney explained, a look of wonderment in his eyes. "Huh, that's actually quite nice."
"Thank you, Doctor McKay," Noman smiled at Rodney and bowed his head slightly at the compliment.
"So you're law proposal… uh… interest… is?" Rodney prompted.
"My interest is one of the two main rivals in this final round," Noman replied, which was no answer at all.
"Which is?" John asked, his suspicion rising in the face of Noman's evasiveness.
"For every person to be able to choose a Second regardless of their gender."
John took a moment to take that in, trying to decipher what that meant, and failed. He had no idea what Noman was referring to, and wondered whether women are not allowed to take part in the politics of this world, because that was the closest he could place that statement.
"I am sorry, Noman, but when you say 'a Second' you mean…" Teyla trailed off meaningfully, sounding as confused as John was.
"Someone who has been through a legal binding ceremony, of course," Noman replied promptly. "As an advanced society that allows a man to take himself a Second who is another man you're the perfect example of the road we must take in order to become as enlightened as we seek to be," he added.
John stared at him, speechless. Noman assumed that because John called Lorne 'his second' – which John only vaguely remembered doing – he meant that he and Lorne were married. Noman, John realized, was trying to lead a revolution by promoting gay rights in his world, using John and Lorne as his winning card. Somehow even though John's brain repeated those facts to him, his mind refused to comprehend it.
"We'll do it," Rodney said suddenly, smiling and clapping his hands once as if it was a done deal.
"We-we will?" Teyla turned to Rodney, as did John, looking confused and concerned. John suspected that he, on the other hand, looked every bit as horrified as he was feeling.
"That is wonderful news! If my people can see your example then my group's interest is bound to win in the final round of elections. Once I take the role of High Councilor of the Council of Law I will have the authority to give you whatever it is that you want from that chamber to strengthen our new alliance," Noman said warmly, beaming at John and his team.
Rodney beamed right back. "See? Of course we'll do it!" he told Teyla, a note of smug victory in his voice.
"No, we won't!" John finally managed to find his voice, and raised it impressively at Rodney. What the hell was Rodney thinking, damn it! John wasn't gay, and neither was Lorne. Hell, they were forbidden from even speaking about such things, and now Rodney wanted him to pretend that he lives happily ever after with his second in command!
"McKay," John began, getting up and looming over his friend, lacing his voice with as much anger as he could. "If you think that I'm going to-"
"Come with me for a moment," Rodney interrupted him, getting up as well and smiling at Noman as he practically dragged John to the side.
John yanked his arm from Rodney's grasp angrily, turning to look at him. "What the hell were you thinking!" he asked incredulously, not remembering being this angry with Rodney in a very long time. "This is madness, why the hell did you tell him we'd do it! Do you even know what he's asking us to do!"
Rodney's expression was serious and his mouth was set in a crooked line. "He's asking you and Lorne to pretend to be a happy gay couple in order to convince his people that gay people deserve the same rights as straight people," Rodney replied, looking at John intently.
"Yes, Rodney, that's exactly what we're talking about! And there's only one small problem with that plan – I'm not gay!" John hissed angrily, the old urge he used to feel during most of his first year in Atlantis to deck Rodney returning with a vengeance.
"I know you're not," Rodney huffed, rolling his eyes at John. "But we don't have any other choice. If we can get Noman in a position of power, we get our ZedPMs and drones," he claimed.
John stared at him, unbelieving. "This is from the guy who wanted to take a nearly depleted ZPM that was in use protecting a planet full of children?" he asked snidely, crossing his arms over his chest angrily.
Rodney mirrored the gesture, looking back defiantly. "Things have changed since then," he said.
"Yes, they have! We have the Deadalus now. There's nothing stopping us from going back in, sticking a locator beacon on the ZPMs and having the Deadalus beam them up!" John was nearly shouting now. It was only pure luck that Rodney had managed to drag him far enough from Noman while he was still shocked that they weren't overheard.
"Yes, there is. If Noman is half as smart as I think he is, and while I don't have much faith in people in general being smart I must assume that he has at least a small amount of intelligence, he'll put a guard over that wall. And even if we could stick a locator beacon on those ZedPMs what would happen if they manage to open the wall themselves and find out we took everything behind their backs?"
"Rodney, they don't have the gene! How can they open the damn wall!"
"This planet was once occupied by the Ancients. The probability of one of them having the gene is just the same as the probability of someone from Earth having it!" Rodney cried back, sounding as exasperated as if John was a rebellious six-year-old. "And then what would happen if the Coalition hears about it? Huh?"
John decided that they needed to check the coffee that was served in the mess hall this morning. Maybe it was responsible for Rodney becoming stupid, because something must've been. "McKay," he said slowly, trying to be as articulate and clear as possible. "Up until the moment we arrived here, which was five hours ago, they didn't even know for sure what the Stargate was used for."
"And if they find a tablet with an explanation on how to work it?"
"Oh, because the Ancients were so big on leaving detailed manuals behind!"
Rodney took a deep breath. "Look, let me make this simpler for you. You seem to have a rudimentary grasp of mathematics, so I'll paint you an equation. You and Lorne pretending to be gays equals three ZedPMs, six thousand drones, five hundred personal shields and seven hundred personal weapons," Rodney said impatiently.
"You're forgetting that this equation also equals me and Lorne landing in Leavenworth for a very long time and getting ourselves discharged with dishonor," John retorted icily.
"No one has to know!"
"And what do we write in our report to explain this? That we found a ZPM tree!"
"Oh, ha-ha. Listen-"
"No," John cut Rodney short, something he should've done a long time ago, his voice low and dangerous. "You are going to go back to Noman, and you're going to apologize and tell him that we can't do what he wants us to do. You got me into this mess, now you're going to get me out," John ordered, pointing back at where Noman was now talking with Teyla and Ronon. Both Teyla and Ronon kept gazing at John and Rodney, uncertainty written over Teyla's face and a frown adoring Ronon's.
Rodney put his hands on his hips, tilted his head to the side and stared at John without saying a word, his entire body screaming defiance. John wanted to shoot him.
"Why are you so adamant about this, damn it!" John asked, frustrated.
"Because there's a chance that they can figure out how to work the gate. And if they do and they find out that we stole from them then the Coalition is bound to hear about it as well," Rodney said, in all seriousness. "If it was two months ago I'd have no problems with sticking a locator beacon on the entire stash of Ancient weapons and beaming it up using the Deadalus. But since then the Coalition was formed and beyond the fact that I don't want to spend the rest of my life in some flee-bitten prison cell on a world where coffee hasn't even been invented, we need allies here. And we need to know that if we step through the gate we won't be attacked or left out for the Wraith to feed on us," he said, his voice breaking over the last few words like it always did when he was trying very hard to convince someone of something he believed to be unquestionably true.
And he had valid points. Woolsey also told John to be very careful, and John remembered the last time they were at the hands of the Coalition none too fondly. He knew that the next time there might not be a trial and Woolsey might not be able to come to their rescue or lure one of their captors with sweet promises.
This was not a decision he felt comfortable making alone, and that fact frustrated and angered him more than anything Rodney had said so far.
"He thinks that you and Major Lorne are what?" Woolsey was so shocked it might have been funny if it wasn't for the fact that they were talking about John's career.
"Married. He thinks we're married," John forced through clenched teeth.
Woolsey looked at John's team, seated around the conferences room's large wooden table, eyebrows climbing up from behind his glasses. "And none of you thought to correct his mistake?" he asked, a note of incredulousness in his voice.
"I tried," John said tightly, harshly, shooting an angry look at Rodney.
Rodney rolled his eyes at him. "Would you stop being so melodramatic? If it was me I'd sleep with Lorne in front of their entire council if it got me the ZedPMs," Rodney snapped back.
"But it's not you, damn it! It's me!" John's eruption startled Rodney, and even startled himself. He bowed his head and raked his hands through his hair, exhaling loudly. "Rodney, do you realize that you're asking me to do something I'm not even sure I can do?" he asked his friend, more quietly but with as much seriousness as he could muster. This wasn't a joke. He wasn't gay, and neither was Lorne. Hell, John didn't even know if Lorne was seeing someone.
"Colonel," Woolsey said soothingly, sensing John's agitation, "I realized that what was asked of you might be a little unorthodox-" he began, and John looked at him sharply.
"Unorthodox? I have dedicated my life to an organization that forbids such actions, and screw anyone who dares wave that Don't Ask Don't Tell thing at me now because that's crap and you know it," John cut Woolsey off angrily. Was Woolsey really trying to justify Rodney?
"I know that," Rodney intervened somberly. "And despite that, six thousand drones are enough to wipe out every single Wraith vessel in our quarter of the galaxy and we'd still have plenty more to spare," he said with a strange conviction in his voice. John knew that under all the snipping and sarcasm Rodney wanted the Wraith defeated just like the rest of them did. John did too, but he never imagined it would take such a toll on him and him alone.
"Is that really so, Doctor McKay?" Woolsey asked, surprised and hopeful.
Rodney nodded his head. "Yes, and that's not even bringing into account what other things we could do with the personal shields, or the ZedPMs. I mean, we would have an entire ZedPM to spare!" Rodney was getting excited once more, hands gesturing around in the air and eyes aglow at the thought of the ZPMs.
"What do you mean, a spare ZPM?" Woolsey asked, his words coming out slowly and haltingly as he tried to take everything in.
"After the Replicators' occupation of the city we were left with three ZedPMs. One was shipped back to Earth to power up the Ancient outpost, one was taken to the Prometheus to help it in the fight against the Ori, and one was left here. That one was depleted when we escaped from the Replicator beam, but we replaced it with the one we stole from the Replicators, which still powers the city.
"Even if we wanted more, we have room for only two other ZedPMs here in Atlantis, which leaves a spare one," Rodney said gleefully. He could have been dancing for all the difference it would make, because he was fidgeting and moving in his seat with barely contained excitement and nearly hitting Teyla on the head when he gestured wildly.
"And they're willing to give us all that? Why?" Woolsey sounded skeptic. John thought it was a good question. If they had an ounce of wisdom they wouldn't give a stash of powerful weapons to a race of 'aliens' they didn't even know. It would render the entire discussion about John's alleged marriage to Lorne moot and leave John with enough time to kick Rodney's ass all over the gym before they were due to go back.
"Noman said on a number of occasions that his people have no need for the Ancestral weapons. They do not know how to work them, and even if they did they have not yet found signs of any platform from which to launch the drones. Also, they have not been visited by the Wraith in countless generations," Teyla provided, her voice slightly stronger than usual in order to cut short any response either John or Rodney were about to make.
"And this is the only thing they've asked for in return?" Woolsey looked relieved to hear her, after having been forced to listen to John and Rodney argue for the past half hour.
"He said that while they'd be willing to receive our help in other areas, it must be done gradually. And unless we wish to wait for the release of the Ancestral items…" Teyla trailed off meaningfully, and Rodney jumped almost as if on cue.
"No! Definitely not waiting!" he exclaimed, causing all heads to turn to look at him. "You never know what might happen and there are all sorts of things that could deplete a ZedPM," he explained a touch defensively. "I mean, what if there was some sort of an accident?"
"Oh, and you would know. You managed to deplete one all by your two selves," John remarked venomously.
Rodney shot him an annoyed glare. "I didn't have much of a choice. It was either that or watching my double die from cascade failure. And besides, you all said that you hated Rod!"
"I kinda wished he'd stayed right now. At least he would have had the brains not to start spouting nonsense and getting me into trouble!"
Woolsey cleared his throat meaningfully. "Gentlemen, please," he said, waiting until they broke away from their staring contest. "I happen to agree with Doctor McKay. Regardless of the incident in question, imagine what would have happened if during your trip in space two years ago you had three ZPMs instead of just the one?" he asked, causing them all to wince.
If they had had more than one ZPM Elizabeth would still be alive, the Replicators wouldn't have destroyed all those worlds and many other people wouldn't have been hurt.
"Exactly," Woolsey agreed, almost as if reading their minds. "I also think that there was nothing more you could have offered them other than weapons, and that is unacceptable."
"Wait a minute," John straightened in his seat. "You're not really thinking of making us go through with it, are you?" he demanded, desperation and frustration coursing through him. Was he the only one who understood that this was complete madness?
"Yes, we are. If we can get Noman in a position of power we get the ZedPMs," Rodney said sharply, his patience with John wearing thin. Well, let it, John didn't mind.
"We haven't even heard what his rival has to offer. Maybe the other guy will accept something else from us that doesn't require me to do ridiculous things!" John turned to Woolsey in his desperation, trying to get him to see reason.
"Maybe he will, and maybe he won't. We may not have the necessary impact on his cause to secure his victory as we have on Noman's. If we ally ourselves with the losing side what will we do then, Colonel?" Woolsey spoke up, looking John in the eyes. John could see that he was leaning towards accepting Rodney's course of action, and wanted to throttle him awake. "The way I see it, we have a chance to influence the results of the elections on that planet, and thus secure ourselves the ZPMs and many more useful items."
John stared at him, trying hard to find an argument that he hadn't used yet. "And who says that Noman will actually give us the ZPMs if he's elected?" he asked, holding on desperately to that question. "We have only his word."
"He said that if you agree, he is willing to give us one ZPM as a token of good faith until the time of the elections," Teyla said, sounding a bit rueful at having to smash John's hopes.
John glared at her angrily. "He did? When did he say that?" he demanded.
"While you and Rodney were… talking. Ronon and I have explained to him the purpose of the ZPMs and he said that out of all the things in the chamber, those sounded the least dangerous to his people," she replied, not quite meeting his eyes.
"Yeah. Said that while we were there he would also have a chance to get to know us and our intentions," Ronon had no problems looking at John, and John could see that he, too, supported Rodney's idea.
"'Our intentions'? 'Our intentions' right now are to lie to them, those are 'our intentions'!" John said bitterly.
"Sheppard, they'd be making a pact with Atlantis as a whole. What you and Lorne do there is personal and no one has to know that it's a lie, if what we tell them about the city and our goals in the fight against the Wraith isn't," Ronon said matter of fact.
"I agree with Ronon, Colonel. While I don't approve whole heartedly of influencing the result of any elections on any planet, I cannot let an opportunity to obtain this many needed technologies at such a low price slip by us. And I completely approve of Noman's way of thinking. By having you stay on Olam, he will be able to judge whether we're truly friends or foes," Woolsey added, mild regret showing in his eyes as John looked at him with disbelief.
"And if he decides that we're foes?" John asked quietly.
"Your job is to make sure that he doesn't," Woolsey said simply, and then took off his glasses and closed his eyes. When he opened them again they held disarming honesty. "Colonel, I can't and won't order you to do this-"
"Yes you can!" Rodney cut him off, but Woolsey held his hand up to stop him without even looking in Rodney's direction, never breaking eye contact with John.
"All I can do is promise you that no one outside the senior staff would know the truth, including the SGC and Earth. You know that at the moment I can't order the Deadalus to steal the ZPMs, and neither can Washington. We can try to do that once things have settled down with the Coalition, but this may not happen in the foreseeable future and we have no guarantee that we will remain safe from the Wraith or from other threats that may come our way in the meantime.
"I'm hoping that you can see that what Doctor McKay has offered is the most prudent course of action," he said quietly, and looked at John with patience, giving him time to think.
There was nothing much to think about. John knew that this was the best course of action, it was the fact that he'd have to put everything he had worked his entire life to earn in danger that he didn't approve of.
And then there was Lorne.
"Lorne should have a say in the matter as well," John said quietly, voice low with defeat.
Woolsey smiled at him a smile that wasn't at all victorious, which John appreciated. "Yes, he should," Woolsey said, and tapped his earpiece. "Amelia, could you send for Major Lorne? I'll be waiting for him in the briefing room," he spoke into his earpiece, and nodded his approval once he received Amelia's answer. "Thank you."
Lorne must've been close to a transporter because he entered the conference room less than a minute after being summoned. John turned to look at him, actually seeing him for the first time.
Lorne had a few traits that were hard to miss, like his buff figure and his blue eyes. John remembered those blue eyes looking at him frantically, pupils dilated, as he pointed a gun at who he thought in his dream was a Replicator. But other than that John had never really paid Lorne's face or body any attention. He never had any reason to give Lorne anything other than a fleeting look, and certainly no reason to look at Lorne as an object of desire.
But now that John looked, he could see that Lorne was actually a good looking man. His eyes were big and his eyebrows were thick and expressive. His nose was short with large nostrils, and his mouth was straight and thin-lipped. His ears were small and his hair short and flat, and there was something pleasant about his mannerisms and smile that put people at ease.
"You wanted to see me, Mr. Woolsey?" Lorne asked as he entered the room, though he slowed down when he saw that John and his team were there as well and were all turning to look at him. "Sir," he acknowledged John, "when did you get back? And how did it go?"
John turned away from him and looked at the table. Let someone else explain it to him.
"Actually, Major, it was beyond my wildest dreams," Rodney filled in happily, waving at Lorne to sit on the empty chair beside him.
Lorne's brows rose and he smiled. "Really, Doc? You got the ZPM?" he asked, honest excitement in his voice.
Rodney's smile was so bright it hurt John's eyes. "ZedPMs. Plural," he corrected, and Lorne nearly gaped.
"How many?"
"Three. Fully charged," Rodney said delightedly. "And six thousand drones, five hundred personal shields and seven hundred personal Lantean weapons," he continued to recite happily, watching Lorne the entire time.
Lorne sat back in his chair, a look of awe on his face. "Wow," he said quietly. "The things we could do with three ZPMs are…" he tried to find the right words, looking excitedly all around the table. "I mean, we could actually replace the ZPM on M7G-677 and relocate refugees there, or start powering up systems in the city that we never had the power to spare for before. And six thousand drones! That's enough to take out-"
"-All Wraith vessels in our quarter of the galaxy, yeah, we know," John cut into the Major's excitement impatiently.
Lorne looked at John and frowned. "So what do they want in return? Do I need to get my team ready to pick up the ZPMs?" he asked, turning back to practical lines after seeing John's scowl.
"They want our help in winning their elections," Teyla answered him.
"Winning the elections? Normal, democratic elections?" Lorne asked, and Rodney nodded. "That's all?" he sounded suspicious, for which he got full marks from John.
"Their way of life is undergoing several major changes. Noman, the man we were talking to, said that he would be glad to receive any advancements we have made and are willing to share in the fields of medicine and science. But as an official representative of his people he cannot allow us to flood them with information they may not fully grasp and would misuse to bring harm upon themselves. So our help with the elections is the best thing we can offer at the moment," Teyla explained.
Lorne's brows shot up. "Well, this is new. A less advanced race that actually refuses superior technology for fear of bringing destruction on themselves," Lorne said, clearly referring to the many rejections made by advanced races to Earth regarding sharing advanced technology.
John, however, wasn't really in the mood for SGC stories. "I'm glad you find it so intriguing, Major," he snapped icily, and Lorne quickly flashed him a guilty look.
"Sorry, sir," he muttered, looking uneasy all of a sudden. "You didn't call me here to get my team ready or to simply tell me about your mission," he stated.
"Not entirely, Major," Woolsey intervened. "The people of M1M-995 are willing to give us the entire contents of the Ancient armory. However, due to a… well, an honest mistake, they think that you and Colonel Sheppard are married. In exchange for the ZPMs they want you and the Colonel to help them in their attempts to secure equal rights for same-sex couples," Woolsey explained.
It was only because John was waiting for it that he caught the fleeting look of horror and fear in Lorne's eyes. Lorne got up, agitated. "But I'm not-"
"We know you're not gay, Lorne," John cut him off once more. "Like Mr. Woolsey said, it was an honest mistake. They take pride in their artists, I commented to Teyla that you'd be happy to come and visit there. They asked who you were and I told them that you're my second. Apparently being a Second on 995 is the same as being someone's husband," John explained tiredly.
"Actually the Second is the submissive partner of the two," Teyla corrected gently, and Lorne turned to look at her, eyes impossibly wide and horrified.
"You want to tell me that there's an entire world out there that thinks that the Colonel is…" Thankfully he stopped there, but John knew what he wanted to say. An entire world that thinks that John is fucking Lorne.
John bowed his head and looked at the table as the same discussion that had occurred moments ago between John and Woolsey now took place between Woolsey and Lorne, and looked up only when Woolsey pulled out his winning argument.
"Major, I know that you're not allowed to do such things under the military's code of conduct. I can't order you to do this just like I can't order Colonel Sheppard to, but I can promise you both that all anyone will ever know is that we sent the people of M1M-995 medical supplies and shared gate technology with them in return for the ZPMs," Woolsey told Lorne, who listened attentively even though John noticed that his hands were clasped together harder than necessary.
"I understand that," Lorne said quietly, casting John a cautious look. "I just don't like it."
"None of us do, Major. But I need you to understand that this is the best possible plan," Woolsey replied.
Lorne leaned forward over the table and looked down at the polished surface, brow creasing and mouth tightening. John heard him exhale much like John himself had a while ago, but when he looked up there was acceptance in his eyes. "How long until the elections?" he asked, voice measured.
"Three weeks," Woolsey answered.
Lorne turned to look at John, his eyes searching. "There's a simple truth we can't ignore here, sir, which is that we need every advantage we can get," he told John, and John had no choice but to nod. He was right. They had the Wraith looming over their heads, a group of rouge Asgards that managed to escape their guns and nothing ensured them that those scary silvery alien creatures that John saw in another reality when they boarded that alternate Deadalus didn't also exist in this one.
"So you'll do it?" Woolsey asked, addressing both of them.
"We don't really have much of a choice," John said, defeated.
"Thank you, Major, Colonel," Woolsey concluded. "While you're there I want you to assess the planet and the people. We have a chance to create bonds with a planet that knows nothing about us except what we tell them, and we need an ally when dealing with the Coalition as well.
"Doctor McKay. I want you to make sure that there is no launching platform on the planet. It would also be good to know why they have gone for so long undetected by the Wraith," Woolsey looked at Rodney, who nodded briskly. "Doctor Keller will be joining you to provide the cover story of humanitarian aid, and also to help you with any difficulties that might arise.
"Ronon, Teyla," Woolsey addressed both of them. "I would like you to move around and be alert. We don't know what treatment homosexual couples might get on M1M-995. If it's anything like Earth I think both Major Lorne and Colonel Shepard will need all the help they can get and I want you to look out for them," Woolsey said, bringing forth another problem John had not even thought of.
"Of course," Teyla agreed.
Finally Woolsey looked at everyone around the table. "I wish you all good luck."