Woolsey looked over the various fruit selections on the table before plucking a particularly delicious looking orange from the bowl. He grabbed a napkin from the small pile next to the fruit and looked around the room for an empty seat. He noticed Colonel Caldwell leaning against a balcony, coffee cup balanced on the railing as he read through papers in a file folder. Woolsey decided to take advantage of the opportunity and walked over to him, holding his orange and napkin in hand.
"Colonel Caldwell," Woolsey greeted him.
"Mr. Woolsey," Caldwell flipped the folder closed.
"Mind if I join you?" Woolsey inquired.
"Of course," Caldwell agreed easily, "How are you settling in?"
"I'm not sure about this uniform," Woolsey laid his napkin over the railing.
"You'd stand out more in a suit and tie," Caldwell pointed out, offering a polite smile.
"Believe me," Woolsey began peeling his orange, dropping the peels onto the napkin, "I've done enough of these investigations to realize that no amount of camouflage is going to disguise who I am or what I'm doing here."
"Investigation?" Caldwell asked evenly.
"Review," Woolsey corrected.
"You're expecting something less than full cooperation?" Caldwell wondered.
"Of course not. Everyone here has been extremely…" Woolsey paused and looked up from his orange, "…cooperative during this investigation. Everyone seems well-prepared. We're just having a conversation here."
"As commander of the Daedalus," Caldwell started carefully, "I have standing orders to help out around here whenever possible, but I'm not a member of this expedition. I don't answer to the IOA and, unless otherwise directed by my superiors, I don't have to answer your questions."
Woolsey gave Caldwell a polite smile before he turned his attention back to peeling his orange, "The only reason you're not Military Commander of Atlantis is that Dr. Weir insisted that post go to Colonel Sheppard. If she were to leave, you would be the most likely candidate to take over."
Woolsey looked up at Caldwell again to gauge his reactions.
"After the incident with the Goa'uld and the Trust, I doubt that," Caldwell smiled sharply, "That's not why you're here. The IOA doesn't really want militarization. They're just afraid they may have no other choice. Besides, isn't this review supposed to be a mere formality?"
"I think you've already spoken to Dr. Weir," Woolsey responded evenly.
"No," Caldwell replied, "I've just been around long enough to know what's going on."
"Sounds like you're saying you won't come out against Dr. Weir," Woolsey eyed Caldwell shrewdly, "only because you're not confident of the outcome."
"What I'm saying, Mr. Woolsey," Caldwell picked up his coffee cup, "is have pleasant evening."
*AV*AV*AV*AV*AV*AV*AV*
Four of the over-stuffed sea green couches that were common in Atlantis framed a short, square table on a large balcony in a little used section of the City. The senior staff were sitting and chatting quietly, most having discarded their uniform jackets over the backs of the couches, leaving them in their normal, more comfortable clothing. John and Ronon shared one couch, both of their large frames sprawled out lazily. Teyla, Evan, and Radek occupied the couch to the left of Ronon, the large open doorway behind them. Evan was seated in the middle and Teyla had her bare feet tucked under one of Ronon's out-stretched calves. Caldwell and Carson shared the next couch, Caldwell sitting at slight angle to give Radek and Evan more room for their legs. Rodney and Elizabeth were on the last couch, facing the hallway, a space between them for D.
There was a massive jet-black cat, stretched out to his full six and a half feet, in the empty space between the back of Elizabeth's couch and the balcony railing, one enormous paw hanging off the edge as he snuffled quietly in his sleep. A second large cat, only slightly smaller than the first, with dove-gray fur darkening to ebony on her ears, nose, paws, and tail, was curled around the black cat, her triangular-shaped head resting on his shoulders.
The conversations trailed off as D stepped onto the balcony carrying a loaded tray of drinks. She stepped over Ronon and Teyla's legs, setting the tray in the center of the table as John and Elizabeth shifted out of her way. D passed a still steaming coffee cup to Rodney, then large mugs of frothing beer to John, Ronon, Caldwell, Radek, and Evan. Teyla, Carson, and Elizabeth each got a tall, clear glass with pale blue liquid and a small dark cherry floating in it, leaving the lone bottle of water on the table for D.
"Is this decaf?" Rodney eyed his cup suspiciously.
"Yes," D settled into the space between Rodney and Elizabeth, her right side pressed up against Rodney from shoulder to knee, "It's too late for caffeine, Rodney. We have a staff meeting at 0800 tomorrow."
"I hate you," Rodney glared at her, "Move over. You're squishing me."
"No, you don't," D grinned at him, "And no, I'm not."
"Would you like to share my huona, Rodney?" Teyla offered, "It is not made with any type of citrus."
"No, but it's made with about eight hundred pounds of sugar," Rodney made a face as he blew on his coffee, "I don't know how you can drink that stuff without going into a diabetic coma."
"I think it's quite lovely," Carson sipped from his glass, "Tastes sort of like raspberries. And peaches."
"You could always try the Pulooy version of beer," John licked a drop of foam from his upper lip, "It's pretty good."
"It tastes like a Guinness," Evan held his mug out across the table, "I haven't taken a drink from this yet, if you want to try it."
"The coffee's fine," Rodney huffed as he finally took a drink, "Even if it is decaf."
"If Rodney's done with his requisite complaining," D rolled her eyes, "Can we get started now?"
"Yes, let's," Elizabeth tapped her knuckles on the table twice before she leaned back comfortably, "I hereby call this official-unofficial-pre-senior-staff meeting to order. Carson, how did your trip go?"
"Mostly routine," Carson answered easily, "I got the clinic set up and it's being stocked with our new supplies tomorrow. I've already got a list of volunteers to staff it. Jinto broke his arm falling out of a tree this morning, but I set the bone and put a cast on him. He'll be fine in a month. On a much happier note, Selana is about eight weeks pregnant."
"Oh, how wonderful!" Teyla smiled widely, "I had a feeling she might be. Did she tell you who the father is?"
"She did," Carson glanced to D, "It's Otelia's son, Vathek."
"Oh, really?" D raised an eyebrow, "I'm surprised he made such a good choice. Otelia must be happy – Selana will make an excellent Matriarch one day."
"Will you let me know when their joining ceremony will take place?" Elizabeth's smile matched Teyla's, "I'd love to attend, if they're inviting people other than direct family."
"I will keep you informed," Teyla agreed, "I am sure they would love it if you were present."
"How is the supply situation on the mainland?" D inquired.
"Halling and I got the last of the caches set up," Ronon dropped his head onto the back of the couch, "Everything we used from the Taranians is back now, so we can start saving up again. Enough of that dried plant mix to last Atlantis six months. Dried meat for only two months, but Nemesis and Cor caught another isilo this morning, so that's another three weeks."
The gray cat lifted her head lazily at the mention of her name, blinking her ice-blue eyes slowly. When D peered over the back of the couch to give Nemesis a proud grin, she chirruped smugly before laying her head back on Cor's shoulders.
"Is that why they're so worn out?" Evan laughed, "At least they're clean this time."
"Dunked 'em in the river before we came back," Ronon grinned.
"What's an isilo?" Caldwell wondered.
"It is animal we recently discovered is quite abundant further inland on the mainland of this planet," Teyla explained, "Their large size makes them difficult to hunt, but they are quite delicious and their pelts can be used to make a good quality leather."
"It looks a bit like a buffalo," Carson added, "But with longer legs and it's sort of an olive green color with brown spots."
"Have you had what looks like really thick bacon in this mess here?" D looked over to Caldwell, "That's isilo."
"What?" Rodney almost choked on a sip of coffee.
"I have. It's pretty tasty," Caldwell remembered, "I thought someone managed to get applewood-smoked bacon sent out here."
"I've been eating some random alien creature?" Rodney gaped at Teyla, "Why didn't anyone tell me? I could've gotten sick."
"You've been eating it several times a week for the past three months, Rodney," John drawled, "I think if there were any side-effects, we'd have noticed by now."
"What about other supplies?" Elizabeth spoke over Rodney's indignant spluttering.
"Another case of P90s and ammunition went missing over the course of the last week," Evan informed her, "And another twenty pounds of C4."
"How unfortunate," D deadpanned.
"Misfortune continues," Radek smiled around the rim of his beer mug, "One of our naquadah generators was damaged yesterday. Rather than trying to ship it back to Earth for repair or decommissioning, we have decided to take it apart here to use for spare parts."
"That's very industrious of you, Radek," Elizabeth tipped her head to him.
"By completely random coincidence," Caldwell leaned back and crossed one leg over the other, "We had an odd malfunction with one of the dematerializers while we were off-loading supplies. Everything that was stored inside has been declared irretrievable. Hermiod thinks it has something to do with an anomalous gas-cloud we passed on the way here."
"Oh dear," Elizabeth sipped at her drink, "I do hope nothing important was stored inside."
"Some basic medical supplies," Caldwell smirked, "extra boots, new blankets, stuff like that. The type of things you would normally requisition for trading or to give away as gestures of good will. Nothing too important."
"Wait a minute," Rodney pouted slightly, "I actually did requisition new boots."
"We're supposed to be getting new uniforms soon," D patted his thigh, "I'm sure your new boots will be here by the time the uniforms arrive. You'll be fine until then."
"We're getting new uniforms?" John asked curiously.
"Supposedly," Elizabeth nodded, "They've been issued to most of the SGC already but…"
"It always takes three times longer to get anything out here," D finished dryly, "I wouldn't hold my breath if I were you."
"Does that mean I'm getting my boots or not?" Rodney scowled, "The ones I have now-"
"I'll check in the morning, Rodney," D sighed, "They're probably in one of the dozen mislabeled supply cases I haven't dealt with yet. It's not like you have any missions scheduled for the next couple weeks anyway."
"Are all of these missing supplies and damaged equipment going to turn up in the City somewhere?" Elizabeth questioned, "Or do we need to figure out a way to get them to the mainland?"
"Miko and Parrish set up a space in the South pier," Rodney slapped D's hand away when she reached for his coffee, "It's above the flood line, but still in the damaged sections so nothing will show up on the sensors. I think some of the space Marines have been hanging out in the hallway to keep an eye on things."
"Kagan and Kemp," D explained at John's questioning look, "They set up a rotation of trustworthy guys. No one who's on duty and if anyone asks, they're scouting location for orgies."
Rodney choked on his coffee again, this time spewing it over his lap.
"Vaughn, I thought we talked about this," John watched as D pulled a handkerchief from her pants pocket and traded Rodney for his coffee cup, "I don't want to know what my Marines do in their free time."
"I still think you're missing out," D took a sip of Rodney's coffee as he tried to clean up the worst of the mess, "Marines have awesome naked puppy piles. All that muscle makes them nice and warm."
"You have been joining them for these…" Teyla arched an eyebrow, "…puppy piles?"
"Not me personally, no," D flicked her gaze to Radek, "But I have reliable sources."
Most of the group turned to eye Radek warily as he took another long pull from his beer.
"What?" a mischievous smirk pulled at Radek's lips, "It is true. They are very warm."
"You've been sleeping with Marines?" Rodney gaped at him, "As in plural?"
"Not listening," John raised the hand not holding his beer to his ear, "La-la-la-la-la."
"I doubt there's much sleeping going on," Evan elbowed Radek in the side, "Especially if Radek is there."
"Gah! No!" Rodney flapped a hand at Evan, "Don't say things like that out-loud. Now the image of naked Radek is going to be stuck in my head for the rest of the night."
"You're welcome," Evan grinned.
"I remember when I had an innocent, rule-following, straight-laced XO," John dropped his hand back to his lap, "I wonder what ever happened to that guy?"
"I'm going to have nightmares," Rodney complained, "If I get to sleep at all."
"That reminds me," Carson reached across Rodney to tap D's knee, "Remind me tomorrow to put in a requisition for more condoms, lubricant, and birth control items. The supplies in my no-questions-asked cabinet are getting a bit low again."
"You're encouraging this, Carson?" Rodney asked incredulously.
"No-questions-asked means I don't ask," Carson waggled a finger at him, "I'm just making sure everyone stays safe."
"You were wondering why we have a pre-meeting," D traded Rodney his cup for the damp handkerchief as she smirked at Caldwell, "the day before the actual staff meeting – this is why."
"Here I thought it was because we were discussing the misappropriation of supplies," Caldwell laughed and toasted her with his mug, "And passing out alcoholic beverages."
"That would be why we hold the pre-meeting here," Elizabeth gestured around them, "on this small section of balcony mysteriously not covered by any security cameras. That no one besides the senior staff knows about."
"And in one of the few areas where even Rodney's voice doesn't carry," D added.
"Hey!" Rodney protested.
"I believe we have gotten off-track," Teyla spoke patiently, "Again."
"Sorry, kua'ana," D pressed her lips together to hold back her smile. [Hawaiian: older sister (familiar)]
"You are not, kaina," Teyla rolled her eyes, "It was quite deliberate on your part." [Hawaiian: Hawaiian: younger sister]
"Are we still planning on having the Orion's inaugural flight this week?" Evan changed the subject easily, "From what Rory tells me, everything's pretty much in working order, even if she's not quite ready for any space battles."
"Who's Rory?" John wondered.
Evan tried and failed to suppress a grin, "The Orion's computer."
"You two, Lorne?" John groaned, "I'm revoking everyone's naming privileges, effective immediately."
"She likes being called Rory," Radek insisted, "And she is correct. We have managed to repair nearly all of her primary systems."
"Nearly all?" Elizabeth questioned.
"There's still an issue with the life support in the lower decks," Evan winced.
"Issue may be too kind a word," Radek's face scrunched up, "The smell from the waste disposal systems is coming through the vents with the re-circulated air. We have been unable to locate the problem so far."
"It doesn't keep the ship from functioning in any way but…" Evan trailed off.
"None of the crew will spend more than two minutes down there without gas mask," Radek finished bluntly, "I would like to give my team another two days to locate and fix the problem."
"Take all the time you need," Elizabeth looked over to Rodney, "How are the rest of the Taranians doing?"
"As well as can be expected," Rodney shrugged, "The engineers that wanted to stay in the City instead of crewing the Orion have finally finished their basic training. Nora decided to stay on as my lab assistant and Weird-Nose Guy wants to work with either Collins or Miko, but the-"
"Delmer," D interjected, "His name is Delmer, not Weird-Nose Guy. His nose was broken in an accident when he was a child and it wasn't set properly."
"Whatever," Rodney waved a hand at D, "The rest of them should be able to do preventative maintenance on all the basic systems now."
"And their security assessments?" Elizabeth prompted.
"Finished the second week they were here, ma'am," D answered, "They're cleared for all Level Three areas."
"Let's set up a schedule for them then," Elizabeth ordered.
"Yes, ma'am. I'll speak with them in the morning to get something worked out," D inclined her head, "Anything I need to know about their abilities, Rodney?"
"The one with the," Rodney made a vague gesture towards his own head, "Baldy."
D let out an exasperated sigh, "His name is Arron. You're going to have to learn all their names eventually."
"I only remember names of the smart ones," Rodney snorted, "Or the really stupid ones but that's only so I can yell at them."
D gave him a flat look.
"Right, anyway," Rodney waved his hands at her again, "Baldy, Arron, whatever, he's pretty good with the life-support systems. Better than the rest of them anyway."
"I'll keep that in mind," D nodded.
"Anything else we need to discuss tonight?" Elizabeth looked around the table.
"I had an interesting talk with Woolsey today," Caldwell tapped his fingers on his mug.
"Interesting how?" D narrowed her eyes.
"He kept calling the review an investigation," Caldwell replied carefully, "I'm not sure if it was a slip of the tongue or on purpose. He implied that if I was willing to speak out against Elizabeth," Caldwell glanced to her then back to D, "to ensure that she was ousted as leader of the expedition, that I would be the new leader."
"The IOA is considering militarizing the expedition?" Elizabeth's eyebrows shot up.
"I avoided answering any of his questions," Caldwell continued, "But I did let him know that I was aware of what was going on."
"They wouldn't really bring in some dumb military grunt as the next leader," Rodney asked warily, "Would they?"
D elbowed Rodney in the side.
"No offense, Colonel," Rodney grimaced at Caldwell.
"I thought things went well today," a concerned expression came over Teyla's face, "Was that not the case?"
"Woolsey actually used the word 'investigation'?" D inquired evenly.
"He did," Caldwell nodded, "He also said that no uniform could disguise what he was doing here."
"À quoi penses-tu?" Elizabeth studied the calculating look on D's face. [French: French: What are you thinking?]
"Je pense que nous avons eu raison, madame," D met Elizabeth's questioning stare. [French: I think we were right, ma'am.]
"Ils essaient de recueillir des preuves," Elizabeth's expression hardened, "Assez pour se débarrasser de moi." [French: They're trying to gather evidence.] [French: Enough to get rid of me.]
"Il semblerait que oui," D agreed, "Et ils essaient de le faire à votre insu." [French: It would appear so.] [French: And they're trying to do so without your knowledge.]
"Plan K then?" Elizabeth smiled and tapped her fingers against her half-full glass.
"Weren't we on Plan B still?" John drawled, "Didn't you skip a whole bunch of letters?"
"Actually, I think Plan L would be better," D shifted, crossing one leg smoothly over the other, "Le costume qu'il a apporté est gris foncé." [French: The suit he brought is dark gray.]
"Which one is Plan L again?" a scowl creased Rodney's forehead.
"Si son costume gris," Elizabeth asked curiously, "Ne serait pas le noir de mieux?" [French: If his suit is gray ] [French: Wouldn't the black be better?]
"Sa cravate est vraiment moche," D shook her head, "La pêche sera un meilleur contraste - le jeter plus hors-bilan." [French: His tie's really ugly.] [French: The peach will be a better contrast – throw him more off-balance.]
"Do you know what they're talking about?" Caldwell looked across the table to John.
"Not really," John shrugged, "They do most of their plotting in French. Usually we just wait for them to finish and tell the rest of us what to do."
