AN: Wow, you guys rock! My plot kitty, Jhon has been purring so much I think he's about to shake the house down! I appreciate all the love you are showing for this story through your reviews / favorites / follows! Enjoy!

Chapter 3

The fight to Peterson was … interesting. All of his pilots except for three were onboard. Those three had already received their orders for Atlantis. Those onboard with him would receive theirs once they returned to the Mountain.

Lorne knew something was up when they were met by Landry's adjutant just as they stepped out of the elevator onto the SGC's top floor. "New orders, sirs," he stated then started handing out envelopes. With the rest of his flight behind him, Lorne headed for the mess hall. Grabbing a seat, he took a sip of his coffee and a bite of a cheese Danish before ripping open the envelope. Perusing the first page, his eyebrows met his hairline in surprise.

Cooper looked across the table at the usually stoic major, hard pressed to tamp down his own surprise at Lorne's show of emotion. "Hey Major, what's up? Did you get transferred to one of the forward bases?"

Lorne tore his eyes away from the letters on the page, glancing up into the worried gazes of his flight. "You could say that – I'm going to Atlantis."

Tearing open his own envelope, Walker let out a soft whistle. "Atlantis – man, we are so lucky. There's guys here would give their left nut to go there. The commander there … the new guy … um, what's his name?"

"Sheppard, Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard." Jones interjected as he joined the group, waving his orders in the air. "He's Air Force. Ended up being the only zoomie among a bunch of grunts."

"Hey, how 'bout you, Cooper?"

Ripping preceded a grunt of surprise. "Huh, me too." He looked up. "Guess we're gonna be seeing a lot more of each other in the future."

Lorne had heard of the guy. Sheppard had seen action in Afghanistan then wound up playing taxi driver in Antarctica after a rescue mission went south. While ferrying O'Neill from McMurdo, a drone had accidentally activated and launched from the outpost seeking the incoming chopper. Only Sheppard's extraordinary piloting skills had kept him and the General in one piece. In typical O'Neill fashion, the General granted Sheppard security clearance on the spot, granting him access to the Ancient outpost. While talking with Dr. Beckett, he sat down in the Control Chair and they discovered that he had the Ancient gene, which earned him his ticket to the SGC and Atlantis. Lorne had heard that Sheppard had even topped O'Neill in the gene strength department.

Cooper interrupted Lorne's musings. "That guy is like Superman. He must have Special Ops training. I know we all get basic ground training, but this guy is something else."

Walker chimed in. "Been talking to some of the guys that just returned from Atlantis. The way they talk about the guy you'd think he walks on water."

Lorne shrugged, not willing to speculate about his new Commanding Officer. "Guess we'll find out."

John checked in with Elizabeth, Carson and Rodney. Everything was going well with selecting new personnel and new equipment. Standing up from the table after the long meeting, he winced as his bruised ribs shifted.

"Colonel?" Beckett's tone carried a touch of concern.

John waved him off. "I'm fine, Carson. Just aggravated my bruised ribs, and yes, I had them checked."

"John?"

Great, now Elizabeth was worried. He sighed. "Some pilots at Nellis took exception to my interview method."

"Interview method?" Elizabeth quipped.

"Yeah," John's eyes sparkled with mischief. "I challenged some of the SGC pilots to a dogfight."

"You what?!" John got it in stereo.

"Relax." John grinned. "No live fire. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some more job interviews to conduct."

Lorne noticed Spiky when he entered the gym and started his workout. From the guy's light tan and the sour looks he threw at the treadmills, he figured the guy spent a lot of time outdoors. He guessed that Spiky must be new to the SGC as he was familiar with the members of the current Gate teams. Ah, well, he'd find out the guy's story soon enough. He set the rest of the pilots to sparring, watching them while he also observed the newcomer. When Spiky finished his workout, Lorne called out to the mystery man. "Would you care to spar?"

Spiky tilted his head slightly as he considered Lorne's question. "Hand to hand or sticks?"

Lorne thought for a moment. He could always find partners for unarmed combat, but finding a challenger for staff practice was different. "Sticks."

Lorne walked over to a rack, retrieving two of the Jaffa staff weapons. He turned, staffs in hand and realized that Spiky had brought the short sticks that he'd seen him use in Nevada. Re-racking one of the weapons, he crossed the floor to his partner.

When John walked into the gym, he knew everyone had eyes on him. He was unknown and they were all sizing hm up. He ignored it as he ran his laps. When he stopped to watch Lorne and the other pilots, he felt the stares returning. Accepting Lorne's offer to spar, John felt the looks intensify and multiply a he retrieved his bantos rods from his bag.

John met Lorne on a group of unoccupied mats in the center of the room. He grimaced at the position, as it was way too open for his taste, but there was no help for it. He watched Lorne warm-up while he readied himself. It was evident that Lorne knew how to use the staff although some of the moves were a bit rough.

Warm-ups complete, the two stepped into their ready stances, the rest of the room falling silent as the soldiers stopped to watch. Lorne held his staff cross-body, ready to guard or strike while John had one stick in guard position, the other out to the side able to attack or guard. At an unseen signal, the two pilots moved, weapons swinging, the sound of ironwood and composites filling the room. Using a staff, Lorne had the advantage of reach, but he had to stay on his toes, constantly shifting to avoid or block blows from the other man's sticks. Unfortunately, Spiky's shorter sticks were more mobile and one snapped in to his side on the rebound. Spiky's size also put Lorne at a disadvantage. Spiky was taller than Lorne by a few inches, but he was slim and deceptively strong. A lot of skinny guys didn't have that much power in their frames. Having seen Spiky fight, Lorne surmised that he was nothing but bone and lean, dense muscle.

As the match progressed, John spared a moment to think how proud Teyla would be of him. His moves were fluid and he was keeping his guard up. Lorne managed to score a few glancing blows, but John avoided or blocked most of his strikes. More of John's blows landed, the size of the staff weapon, an advantage against the stock Jaffa warriors, was also its disadvantage against a lithe and agile opponent. After much back and forth, the match ended with Lorne on his back, John kneeling at his side, one stick poised a hair's breadth from cracking his skull open.

Lorne hesitated a moment, taking the time to compose himself before he knocked on O'Neill's door. Releasing a deep breath, he rapped on the General's door, receiving a quick "enter".

Lorne stepped forward. He knew O'Neill hated formality so he skipped the salute and instead stepped into attention. "Major Lorne, reporting as ordered, sir."

O'Neill looked up at the Major's entrance, a hint of annoyance crossing his face at the airman's stiff stance. "At ease. Sit down, Major." He waited until Lorne took a seat. "Now, I'll get right to the point. I know that you're going to Atlantis, but have you thought about what you'll be doing there?"

Lorne thought hard. He had no idea what life was like on the alien city. Would he just be a pilot, or would he be on a Gate team, flying only when necessary? "Um, I really hadn't thought about it, sir."

O'Neill nodded. "You've served as Executive Officer twice, correct?"

"Yes sir." Lorne confirmed. "Squadron XO under Major Weston and Battalion XO under Lieutenant Colonel Hopkins."

O'Neill rubbed his hands together. "Excellent. How would you like to be Executive Officer on Atlantis?"

Lorne's jaw dropped. XO … on Atlantis? Was O'Neill serious?

O'Neill chuckled. "Yes, Major, I'm serious. Sheppard's good, but he hasn't attended Command School and I can't keep him here long enough to attend. He needs someone that knows the ropes and is not afraid to help him out. You've got a good head on your shoulders and I think the two of you will get along well."

Lorne was stunned. "Um, one question. I haven't been able to find out much about him. What's he like?"

O'Neill leaned back in his chair, a thoughtful look on his face. "Sheppard's a lot like me. He doesn't like to stand on formality unless it's necessary, but he's a stickler about training and readiness. He's very unorthodox, which makes him perfect for Atlantis. He is an exceptional pilot and also has the strongest expression of the ATA gene that we've found so far. He's very smart, and can manage Dr. McKay."

Lorne raised an eyebrow in surprise. Sheppard had actually managed to contain McKay? The guy was legendary for running roughshod over just about everyone around him. "Has he been nominated for sainthood?"

O'Neill laughed. "Not yet, but I might give him a medal for it." The General sobered. "There's one more thing that Sheppard and I have in common. He has a very strong moral code and will do what's right regardless of orders. Part of his code is that we never leave a man behind."

That was no surprise. Paper pushers might never understand that phrase, but anyone that had spent time in hot zones sure did. You looked out for each other and you never left a man behind. "Sir, I accept." Lorne grinned. "I'll take it."