Stargate Atlantis: Drawn To A Different Light
By Reyclou
Chapter 02 - "Confined"
At 0800 hours, Rodney contentedly sipped his third cup of coffee as he skimmed over the mission reports of Team Lorne's first contact with an alien village the scientist had only conceived of in his dreams. The Major himself described a matrilineal society mainly composed of young women who were open to trade and, as luck would have it, had something worth trading for—forgotten Ancient technology hidden deep within their mountainous territory. Rodney had volunteered to personally follow up on the mission long before Lorne had suggested their flagship team return with a negotiator to open diplomatic channels.
That should have been his first clue.
Regardless, Elizabeth agreed, the team marched off to prepare and, by 1100 hours, Evan Lorne was a dead man.
Despite his inherent distaste for violence, at least violent action directed toward his person, Rodney's years of studying hazardous chemical compounds and dangerous machinery had inspired more than a few inventive scenarios to end a man's life—or at least scare him into next week.
Lorne's team reported the village currently experienced unseasonably warm temperatures around 26 degrees. On the Celsius scale, that was still bikini weather. But somewhere between the down-lined parka Zelenka handed him in the Gaterium and the icy burst of slicing white dagger-dust that met him as he stepped out of the event horizon, McKay came to the sudden realization that the damn Americans had forgotten to convert the temperature from Fahrenheit yet again, which meant the climate was not so much beach-worthy as it was well below freezing.
And snowing.
Actually, not so much snowing as it was spiraling head first into a veritable white out—and as the temperatures dropped, Lorne's chances of living to see the next sunrise dropped with them.
That is, if Rodney ever made it back to Atlantis.
Standing in a shallow entrance to a cave system buried in the local mountainside, Rodney watched as a fierce storm raged across the frozen landscape. Factoring in the wind chill, Rodney reasoned the current temperature fell somewhere around "certain death". He shivered. The alcove in the rock offered poor protection from the cold, but at least it blunted the piercing wind and held back the swirling powder. This kind of weather could easily drop inches of snow by the hour, and Rodney had to find himself grateful for at least this little bit of protection. The storm charged the mountain with all force, but broke on the stone and fell before him in great sheets of ice and sand-like snowfall. With visibility that poor and Rodney pacing like a madman to work up some heat, several bulking sub-human forms stepped in from the storm and nearly trampled him before he could make out their mass against the dismal grey and white. Quickly, he squirmed and ducked out of their way as two of the native villagers struggled through the curtain of frozen fury.
Cloaked in thick layers of fur and wool, the natives resembled bulking snow men, or rather, snow women. The two of them loomed over him, their figures lost beneath piles of stiff hairs and rough fabrics. Their faces wrapped in scarves and crude hoods, Rodney couldn't even make out if the women were young or old, fair skinned or dark, hot or—well—not. Right now, he was siding with not.
Two forms marched between them, one standing a head and shoulders taller than the others. With a frustrated groan, Rodney surmised that eleven months in the Antarctic had taught Lt. Col. John Sheppard more than a middle-America born flyboy should ever know about surviving the frozen wasteland. Wrapped in micro-fleece and a military issue poncho, John stalked through the cold chaos like it were nothing more than a light summer rain. In fact, he seemed to be enjoying his romp through the snowy unknown, slowing only to help his companion along.
Dressed in her own fluffy winter uniform, Elizabeth, too, had shown she was no stranger to the cold. She had, after all, led the expedition in the Antarctic, both literally and politically, since its development long before Dr. Jackson had decrypted the Atlantis Gate address. However, she had not been ready to lead delicate, interplanetary negotiations alongside a military officer whose first instinct upon arriving in the fresh snowdrift was to make snow angels outside their host's towering stone shelters.
"Colonel?" Rodney called out over the howl of the wind, surprised to find the cold hadn't frozen his lips shut.
"McKay?" returned the airman's drawl, but the wind stole his voice away almost as soon as he spoke. He had to shout to be heard above the howl. "I thought you'd be waiting inside," he teased.
"Oh, you know me," replied the scientist, drawing his arms tighter around himself for warmth. It didn't work. He had to turn his face away from the wind to keep from swallowing drifts of snow. "Just admiring the lovely weather."
"It's good to see you, Rodney," Elizabeth eased, loosing the scarf around her face just enough to let the words ring out. He could see where the snow and wind had bitten at her ivory skin, leaving it pink and raw. She came just short of huddling up to the colonel, letting the broad expanse of the man's form block the slicing wind. Sadly, McKay caught himself doing nearly the same thing as the small group gathered in the enclave.
"You are lucky you came when you did," one of the natives replied as the group shuffled out of the storm. Already, she began loosing her facial wraps in anticipation of the warmer climate within the mountain walls. "It is unlikely the storms will stay so mild for much longer."
She had to be joking.
"Yes. Lucky. Of course," Rodney shivered, then motioned to the cave entrance. "Shall we?"
With a sly nod, the woman led the party into the cave. McKay ducked after her quickly, with John, Elizabeth, and their other newfound friend following close behind. John had to walk half hunched over to keep from grating his head against the walls. He too disrobed as they walked, removing first his rounded sunglasses, followed by a thick knit cap and a balaclava. While it made for a very uncomfortable stroll, the small passageway did cut down on the cold. Aided by the fires of the odd but precious torch light, there was light and warmth enough to make their way through. By the time they'd marched far enough away from the alcove that they could no longer hear the whistling wind, he had freed his dark hair, face, and hands, tucking the spare accessories away in one of sixteen or eighteen snapping pockets.
Rodney had to admit that, as they progressed through the cave, the air grew increasingly warmer. Never so much that he could do without his coat, but at least enough that he could unzip it.
He still would have preferred the bikinis.
"So how're things coming on your end," the colonel asked as Rodney tugged at his own cap. "Anything?"
"Yes and no," the scientist responded, shoving the cap into a pocket. He felt the tingly sensation of short hair strands popping up, if not standing at straight attention, celebrating their freedom from the knit cap. Rodney had a feeling he'd accidentally stolen a page out of Sheppard's book of Unruly Hair Care.
Except John had more of it. Bastard.
"The energy field we detected is buried deep within the cave system," he explained. "And when I say buried I mean that literally."
Nodding again, the woman added, "We have been boring deeper into the mountain to extend our living space, but it has come at a price."
Rodney swerved out of the way of a menacing stalactite. John grumbled something under his breath and followed suit, bending uncomfortably. "Some time ago they suffered a cave in that cut their living facilities in this system in half," the Canadian explained. "However, the subsequent renovations revealed the existence of a sealed chamber deep within the mountain range."
"And that's where our field is coming from?" John questioned. Rodney nodded.
"And you don't believe our friends here could have constructed it?" Elizabeth asked, trying to find a kind way to note the natives decidedly unsophisticated level of technology.
"No, not unless they can walk through solid rock," Rodney glanced at the hulking woman in front of him and had to reconsider the statement. "We've had to conduct most of the excavation on the spot, and we've only just cleared an access path."
John interrupted in a curious tone. "I assume by 'we' you mean…?"
"Ronon."
"Ah," the colonel sighed, as if he'd known Rodney's reply before the scientist offered it. "It makes sense now."
Rodney's brow furrowed with indignation. His eyes rolled up to glare at the ceiling and he braced himself for a digging comment. "What makes sense?"
John shrugged nonchalantly. "Why you were out front."
"Colonel," Elizabeth warned, green eyes daring the taller man to test her patience, though she knew as well as he did how Rodney could miraculously escape heavy labor duties by inventing some pressing emergency.
"Actually I was waiting for Sheppard to show up," sniffed the scientist as the group shuffled on through the winding passageways. From time to time they came across a fork or split in the caverns, often enough that Rodney did not envy the thought of navigating the cave system without a guide. From some they heard the sounds of children playing, from others wafted the smell of simmering foods and sparse cook fires. The grumble in his gut gave away the sudden hunger in Rodney's stomach.
"Rodney?" the colonel pressed, and the scientist realized he'd neglected to answer.
"Well, neither Teyla nor Ronon have the Gene," he confessed. "And I can't concentrate on manipulating Ancient technology and log anomalies into my laptop at the same time—at least not without another cup of coffee. Not to mention we don't even have a clue what it's supposed to do. We don't know if it's a weapon, a booby trap, a transport station-"
John slid him a suspicious glance from the corner of his eye. "Rodney, are you saying you're afraid to turn it on?"
"No…" the smaller man straightened, buffing out his chest as if recoiling from an insult. Then slumped. "Yes," he waved a hand in front of his face, batting the comment aside. "Look, I just need to borrow his genes," Rodney insisted in a terse tone, then clenched his eyes shut as Elizabeth pursed her lips to stifle a giggle. John rolled his eyes to hide reddening cheeks. "That came out so wrong."
oOo
The team heard the grunts and echoes of tumbling rock long before they reached the excavation site where a very uncomfortable Satedan giant worked to loosen small boulders and pulled cracked rock chunks away from a dim archway. Despite the cool chill in the air, Ronon worked in his usual worn tunic, his own newly issued cold weather gear lay in a pile, where they appeared to have been thrown in frustration. The wall to which he'd been assigned looked like a cannonball had knocked straight through it. John smiled. He made a frighteningly efficient machine, especially when it came to rampant destruction.
Teyla stood in the archway, warily gazing into the darkness beyond, aided only by the light of her P-90. She brightened considerably when she caught site of the arriving team.
" Elizabeth! Colonel!" She greeted, half jogging to meet them. It seemed odd to John to see the small woman in the bulky bright white gear. It leant her a strange, angelic quality, serving as a sharp contrast to the deadly weapon she casually held in her off hand. "How went the negotiations?"
Elizabeth smiled and motioned toward their escort. "Just fine, Teyla. Our friends here are just as eager to learn about the Ancients as we are."
"That is good news," the Athosian replied, then, with a glance to the ex-Runner she supplied, "Ronon was just finishing. We were about to head in," Ronon straightened, or rather, set aside his last armful of rock and sort of rose to a hunched attention beside Teyla. Even bowing over to keep from banging his head, he still dwarfed the woman. He stood even taller than Sheppard, and therefore felt even less suited to the close quarters.
Elizabeth turned to their escort and nodded politely, "With your permission?"
The looming woman consented with a light bow of her own and stepped out of the way, "Of course."
Smiling, Rodney ushered toward the entrance with his hands, urging the women ahead of him, "After you."
Wordlessly, Elizabeth and Teyla raised a collective eyebrow, then turned to John, who glared at Rodney before stepping forward.
"What?" Rodney whined as the colonel slumped past him, but no one returned the question.
At first the path before John seemed to lead into total darkness but as he guided his own light into the room, he caught a glimmer of something on the far wall. Intrigued, he stepped forward, into the stone seal now broken after how many thousands of years of sentry.
No sooner had he crossed the threshold but the room blinked to life, breaking the spell of darkness and welcoming him in. John and his team were stunned for a moment as the light revealed a round—or rather multi-faceted—chamber large enough for the full team to gather in and then some. Embedded in each wall were tall fields of smooth, reflective glass—like a mirrored dressing room. John glanced at his own reflection in one, and was surprised to see that, given the angles of the mirrors, he could see himself from nearly every angle—his views blocked only by the presence of his other teammates. Above him the ceiling stretched imposingly high, but below him he saw a strikingly familiar design; a platform of interlocking panels, much like he had seen under the Chair devices in both Atlantis and Antarctica, lit up beneath him.
He tapped at the blue flooring with the tip of his boot. "Uh, Rodney, What happens now?"
Slightly confused, though clearly awed by their situation, he had nothing more to say but the truth, "I'm not quite sure."
"Not quite sure?"
"Okay, I don't know… yet. Surely there has to be some kind of input device. Maybe it's concealed behind one of these mirrors or something." Rodney stepped off the platform to inspect one of the mirror-like fields. He traced its lines but found nothing promising.
John smirked sarcastically. "Right, you do that, Rodney. I'll just stand here and see if I can't dream up an instruction booklet."
Ignoring the colonel's comment, Rodney made for the doorway. "My laptop is out by Ronon's stuff. Lemme go grab it really quick and we'll…"
A faint blast and sudden rumble, like something crashing into the side of the mountain, cut Rodney's statement short.
The colonel's eyes snapped upwards, "What the hell was that?"
Instantaneously, the native woman leapt from the platform and sped for the door, where she was met by a younger woman, swathed in furs. Ice and snow still clung to her clothes and her face was reddened not with the bite of the wind but with the warmth of exertion.
"Please tell me that isn't what I think it is," Rodney whimpered, eyes wide with fright.
The young woman spoke quickly to the older woman in hushed tones.
Elizabeth straightened with surprise. "My god, Wraith!" She whispered, not for fear of her own life, but for those of their newfound allies. "It has to be the Wraith."
"Are they really safe down here?" Teyla questioned softly, watching intently as the other woman gave further orders to a second messenger.
"It seems to have worked well enough for them in the past," Elizabeth returned, but she did not seem entirely assured herself.
Groaning, Rodney turned wide eyes on the colonel and the diplomat. "Yes, but that was before we cranked up the Ancient powder room back here. The energy field had to have spiked with we turned the power on. We might as well hang a sign out front that says 'Hey, we're hiding right here.'"
Brown curls flipped through the air as Elizabeth whirled on the colonel. "John, can you shut it off?" She pressed.
"I can try," John obediently closed his eyes in concentration. He thought about the power pulsing through the device. Imagined it as a cord plugged into an outlet. He imagined taking that chord and yanking it with all his strength.
Another blast and rumble rocked the mountainside, causing Rodney to stumble. He clawed at the mirrored fields for support. Frightened, he clenched his eyes shut and wished he were anywhere but here.
Rodney heard the sound of rock exploding, felt chips of stone pelt his face as he clung to the ancient panel. A bright white light burst in the room, warmed them, then blanketed them with a sudden, all-encompassing darkness.