Chapter 5
Rodney blew on his fingers to warm them through. He didn't want to be making simple mistakes at this point. The cockpit was in pitch darkness apart from the yellow pool of brightness cast by a heavy, rubber-coated flashlight sitting on the pilot's console, and he squinted through tired eyes at the control panel in front of him. He'd been working on the hyperdrive for the past week, stopping only when he could no longer keep his eyes open and sleeping curled in a blanket on the ice-cold metal deck. Even so, he'd feared that he wouldn't be finished in time.
The first three days had been taken up just trying to convince the mainframe to accept his input; the last four, trying to find a way to open a wormhole while still on the planet's surface before the failsafes could lock him out. Cold hands and tiredness were not helping at all. The control panels on the Hefnd were tiny and intricate, and the hyperdrive engine itself was unlike any he had ever seen before. It was definitely a prototype. He wasn't even sure how a wormhole generator this small was possible within the laws of physics, as he understood them. He only wished that he could have had time to study it in detail, but now his time had run out.
With a few extra days, he might have been able to rig up a timing device to engage the hyperdrive and then would have taken his chances on escape, however slim they may have been. But he hadn't got a few extra days. Bartos was no longer showing any pretence at civility and Rodney knew that by the end of tomorrow, the Commander would make good on his threat to invade Atlantis.
A sudden bitter wind blew through the cockpit and Rodney absently turned up the collar of his dark uniform, pulling it closer around his scruffily bearded chin. Over the past five weeks the weather had been getting steadily worse. Snow was falling almost constantly now in huge, white flakes; it covered the clearing two feet deep and bowed nearby saplings until they bent, their tips almost touching the ground under its weight.
He hunched back over the pilot's station and readjusted the flashlight's beam to a better position.
It was the middle of the night now. In the early evening Gavell had handed over his supervision to an older, heavily muscled guard, but it wouldn't be long before the younger soldier returned to take up his duty again. Rodney glanced over his shoulder; the thickset man was less vigilant than Gavell, obviously preferring the comforts of a warm fireside to the tedium of watching over McKay as he worked. From the corner of his eye, Rodney could see the man standing by the hatchway at the rear of the ship, talking in a low voice to someone positioned just outside McKay's view. Now was the best opportunity Rodney had had all day to put his plan into action.
Running chilled fingers over the hyperdrive controls, Rodney checked the readout again for the sequence of figures that signified that the engine was ready to engage.
There was no way of testing his calculations, other than attempting to establish a wormhole and seeing what happened next. Although, if his calculations were correct, he wouldn't have long to make his observations before the engine overloaded and the resulting explosion annihilated an area the size of a city.
His shoulders tightened at the terrifying thought. Forcing himself to relax, he took a deep lungful of air and let it out slowly, watching the vapour cloud dissipate in front of his face.
Okay, he was ready. He would save the day for Atlantis, one last time. And if his plan worked, they would never even know.
Before he had a chance to lose his nerve, he fired up the hyperdrive engine and brought the wormhole generator online.
oOo
The standard military-issue 9mm slid smoothly from the holster at his side, span once in his fingers and lined up on the spot on the far wall of the gateroom which he had chosen as his target, in a single, fluid movement. Ronon didn't need to pull the trigger to know that his aim was true even though the gun still felt small and insubstantial in his hand.
He returned the handgun to its holster and began the exercise once again.
After the fiftieth repetition, he stopped.
He wasn't good at waiting. His team should have left through the gate by now, on their search for Bartos, but Sheppard had been called to a meeting with Dr Weir, and hadn't appeared yet.
Ronon frowned to himself. When had he started thinking of 'his team'? For the last seven years, he had been alone. Even when he had been forced by injury or storms to live for a few nights among others, he had always remained apart, keeping to himself and leaving as soon as was possible. He had told himself that it was to protect the people who had taken him in from the attention of the Wraith, but that had only been part of the truth. After Sateda, he hadn't wanted to 'belong'.
It had been here, among strangers from another galaxy, that he had somehow become part of a team again. He hadn't realised quite how much he'd missed simply having people around him that he could rely on to be there. Until five weeks ago.
Now, like having the 9mm at his side instead of the familiar weight of his own gun, he felt unbalanced.
He slid the weapon from its holster and aimed again at the spot on the far wall. The pistol worked just fine, it did the job, but it wasn't his gun.
"Ronon." Teyla's soft voice came from a few steps behind him. The Athosian could move almost silently when she wanted to, but Ronon had been aware of her presence before she spoke. Re-holstering the handgun, he turned and gave a quick nod of greeting. Like him, Teyla was armed and ready to start out through the gate on their continuing search. Her hand was raised to the radio that sat in her left ear as she listened with a slight frown. "Colonel Sheppard says that there will be no mission today; Dr Weir will be requiring him for other duties for the next few days, but we will not be needed. He will meet us in the Mess Hall shortly to explain."
Ronon frowned back at the slender woman. The search for Bartos had been frustrating; they had made little progress in the five weeks since McKay's death, but he would not have thought that Sheppard would have allowed this mission to be called off, especially not at the last minute, unless there was an emergency. And 'other duties' didn't sound like an emergency to Ronon.
Teyla tilted her head in tacit agreement, her look telling him that she, too, was surprised at Sheppard's message. With a concerned glance towards Weir's office, she began to make her way across the gateroom in the direction of the Mess Hall.
His long legs quickly bringing him to her side, Ronon found himself wondering exactly what could have caused Sheppard's sudden change in plan.
oOo
Elizabeth Weir gave a brief but sincere smile across her desk to the Daedalus' commander sitting opposite her, "Colonel Caldwell, I'd like to thank you again for taking such good care of our latest expedition members while they were aboard the Daedalus." She waited until the older officer had politely acknowledged her thanks before continuing, "Dr Beckett has taken charge of the new medical staff, and Dr Zelenka tells me that his scientists are already settling in to their assigned quarters."
She turned a tired face towards the second seated man and fixed him with her eyes. "So, John, you'll be spending the next few days integrating the new military personnel?"
The look that Sheppard directed back was unreadable, but Elizabeth had no doubts that resentment was simmering just below the surface.
He sat with his hands folded over the P-90 resting in his lap. His face was a deep bronze after five weeks of long hours under two hot suns, but the tan couldn't disguise the unhealthy pallor that lay beneath. Elizabeth was startled to realise just how drained he had become over the past few days. John had never carried much spare weight, and now his face was gaunt, giving him a look far older than his years. He was obviously close to exhaustion, but his back was ramrod straight in the chair.
She held his gaze until finally he gave a curt nod of confirmation.
The reason for his hostility towards her was understandable, but, although she sympathised, she was certain that her decision was the right one. It wasn't simply that his duty lay here, in Atlantis, getting to know his new people; he needed to end his soul-destroying course of action while he still could.
It had been a week since he had given his word to end the hunt for Rodney's killer. In that time, John and his teams had moved no closer to finding Bartos. In fact, she knew that the few leads that they had been following had all come to dead-ends, although that obviously hadn't made her insistence that he call off the search any easier for him to accept.
Finally allowing her eyes drop from Sheppard's, she forced herself to relax slightly before turning back to address Caldwell.
"Colonel Caldwell, now that we've finished here, can I offer you a full tour of Atlantis? I know that you didn't have the opportunity on your previous visits." Leaning slightly forward in her chair, she managed to summon up a warmer smile for the commander of the Daedalus.
Having Caldwell present at this meeting had been difficult. She would've much preferred to have spoken with Sheppard alone when the time had come to remind him of his promise. Unfortunately, the Daedalus had dropped out of hyperspace into the sky above Atlantis nearly a day earlier than scheduled, carrying more than forty new expedition members along with all the paperwork which that entailed. Try as she might, she hadn't been able to find the time to meet with Sheppard in private before Colonel Caldwell beamed down to officially hand over the Service personnel.
She'd been quietly observing the man throughout the meeting. When they'd first met a few months ago, she'd found him antagonistic. He'd been informally offered the job of Military leader of Atlantis, and, when she had managed to block that proposal, it had obviously rankled with him. But now that he'd had time to come to terms with Sheppard's continuing command, his manner towards both John and herself had warmed a little. It was finally looking as if they would settle into a slightly more comfortable working relationship and showing him around her city would be a good chance to get to know him better.
Caldwell returned her smile, but before he could reply to Elizabeth's offer, the datapad on her desk chimed quietly; the sound was followed by the voice of a gateroom technician. "Dr Weir, I've got an incoming visual message from the Daedalus for Colonel Caldwell."
She gave the Daedalus' commander an enquiring look, "Would you like to take that here, Colonel?" At his nod she politely turned the datapad screen towards him before responding to the call. "Thank you, please put it through."
A young man's face appeared. Elizabeth recognised the officer as Dave Kleinman, a USAF Captain who she had met briefly during the Daedalus' first visit to Atlantis. He looked up from his bridge station as he spoke. "Colonel. A few minutes ago we picked up a recorded message broadcasting on one of the Asgard emergency channels."
"Asgard?" Caldwell reacted to the information with a look of surprise, and Elizabeth shared the feeling; there were no Asgard ships in the Pegasus Galaxy that she knew of, in fact, the Daedalus was the probably only craft outside the Milky Way Galaxy likely to be routinely scanning those particular frequencies.
"Yes, Sir." Kleinman replied, "It claimed to be from a ship called the Hefnd but Hermiod has no knowledge of any vessel of that name in the Asgard fleet."
"What was the message?"
"Just the name of the ship and a set of co-ordinates, Sir. The message repeated twice and then cut off."
Caldwell frowned slightly at the scant details. "Have you established the location?"
"Affirmative, Sir." The young Captain glanced back down at his display. "The spatial co-ordinates given don't tie in to any known gate address, but it would take the Daedalus a little under an hour to reach the area."
"Understood." Colonel Caldwell inclined his head towards Elizabeth, addressing his next words to her. "It looks as though I'll have to take you up on that offer of a tour on my next visit, Dr Weir." He started to his feet as he turned his attention back to Kleinman, "Lay in a course and prepare to get underway."
"Permission for me and my team to tag along, Sir?" Sheppard had been silent for so long that it was almost a shock to hear him speak.
"I think we can handle this without your help, Colonel." Caldwell's manner turned suddenly frosty at the younger officer's words, but it was Sheppard's tone that surprised Elizabeth. He sounded intrigued. It was the first time she'd heard curiosity in his voice since Rodney's death and she made a quick decision; allowing John to pursue his curiosity might be the most beneficial thing she could do for him right now.
"No question, Sir," Sheppard responded politely to Caldwell's brusque words, "I'm simply interested in finding out what an Asgard ship is doing this far away from home." He gave a faint lopsided grin.
Before Caldwell could reply, Elizabeth spoke up. "So am I. I only wish that I could go as well, Steven," She caught the older man off guard with her use of his first name and smoothly pressed home her advantage. "And I'm sure it would be valuable for Ronon and Teyla to see the Daedalus in action."
The Colonel narrowed his eyes slightly, but, since he had no real reason to refuse, eventually his face broke into a thin smile.
"Of course, Dr Weir." He turned to Sheppard, "Have your team ready to beam aboard the Daedalus, Colonel. We shall be leaving immediately."
TBC