The Weight of an Oath – Part 7

Torca sat behind her desk and, looking out her broad, office window considered the crystalline spires of the city's highest towers. They were beautiful, as beautiful as every other part of the city, as beautiful as every lake, forest, and field that could be found on her world. Her world that was filled with a splendor that was breath taking and wondrous both. Her world that she loved with all of her being.

She stood to move closer to the window, to observe the vastness of the clear sky and the clean green meadow that surrounded the western edges of the city. She knew with utter certainty that there was no world like hers anywhere else in this galaxy. Knew that the presence of the Wraith tended to preclude the continuation of the knowledge that her people had gathered. Knew that it was only the Oath that had enabled her people to sustain that knowledge and with it, the beauty that surrounded her.

Torca turned from the window and studied her office, a thing of which she was so very proud. This room had been hard won, and its opulence was indicative of the importance her position carried in her society. Yet, despite her successes, she was very young and an irregularity in the system of things. Far too young to have obtained the status she now held, but quick-witted beyond her years. She had fought hard to attain her achievements and was pleased to have been called one of the youngest to take the Oath.

But her youth was often a disadvantage when dealing with those in her field. She was rarely taken seriously, despite the fact that she was quite often correct in her suppositions. To make matters far worse, she had none of the cold, statuesque beauty that was valued amongst her people and that often lead to the most prestigious of ranks. In fact, if it had not been for the keen mind of her mentor in the Colleges, she would never have been recognized as worthy of the position of Assistant Scientist at the Governmental Institute.

Torca began to pace as she felt the conflict begin to surge within her again. She was an Assistant Scientist, not ranked as Full, and few and far between were the times when Sandrina took her seriously. The lack of respect associated with Assistant status had been indicated in the current situation when Sandrina had refused to listen to her cautions about testing the Atlantean in his overly sedated state. Torca had suspected that the effect of the sedative on John Sheppard had to do with differences in Netharian and Atlantean physiology and had pleaded to Sandrina to delay further experiments until they could elucidate the physical differences between their two people. She had emphasized the dangers that could be put upon Sheppard if they were not cautious, but she had been summarily excused, her words ignored.

She was very young, the Oath but a new weight that was currently pressing heavily against her thoughts and heart. She stopped pacing to look out the window again and noted, with some surprise, that the city was not quite as beautiful as she had once thought it was.

John Sheppard had done nothing to bring upon the pain that she and her colleagues had visited him. She had caught glimpses of him during the first of the Atlantean visits and, when given the opportunity had watched him carefully, her eye drawn to his physical beauty. She had also watched as he agreed to help her people in their work and had laughed quietly when she had heard him speak playfully with the others of his team.

She suspected that he was a very good man.

She had been secretly against any of the testing from the very beginning, but the Oath was everything. It was sacrosanct. Even now, the words rang in her ears, thrummed through her arteries.

I will do all to protect.

She had resisted her inner conflict at the beginning of the experiments, because she and every other Netharian on her world knew that at one time or another their commitment would be tested. It was not meant to be an easy thing, this Oath, but it was a necessity that could not be denied.

In doing so I show my love and commitment to my people, my world, and my life.

And so she had ignored the swirling thoughts and emotions that were still driving her to distraction. Tried to make it easier for Sheppard when he was sick and weak by supplicating to her superiors. Tried to minimize the horror of what was being done to him.

This is the solemn Oath that binds my heart, my mind, and my very soul.

Only to have been ignored every step of the way. And through it all, Sheppard had stood up to the atrocities bravely and had not been diminished by his struggle against her and her people. Her face burned with the realization that his valiance shamed her, and that his courage remained unrecognized by the others in her oh so precious world.

I am nothing if I withhold it, but everything having given it.

Attempting to ignore her feelings yet again, she prepared a cup of soothing tea. Sitting back behind her desk, she brought the cup to her lips and relished in its refreshment. It tasted of rare herbs and wild flowers that she imagined grew upon the hillside far from the outer edge of the eastern city. She had visited there once, with her father when she was a child. She smiled and tried to recall the awe with which she had experienced that green and fertile place. Tried to remember the immeasurable blue of the sky. An image of Sheppard, sick and weak, came to her mind instead, and the tea became a bitter tonic in her mouth. She choked on its ruined flavor, and sobbed wildly as she threw the cup away from her. It shattered against the window.

I will do all to protect.

She suspected that he was a good man, and she was very young.

888

Carson and Rodney's hold on Sheppard's body strengthened as the man slumped forward in unconsciousness. Beckett cursed and then bellowed at Rodney to help him settle the Colonel back onto the bed so that he could assess his condition. Rodney did as he was instructed and did so, for once, without question. Once the Colonel was settled, Beckett began to take the man's pulse and checked his respiration rate. Both were too fast, and Carson began to worry.

"We have to get him back to Atlantis," he said to Rodney without looking away from Sheppard.

"Well there's something I didn't know already!" McKay snapped.

The breaking edge to the physicist's voice drew Carson's attention. He looked up to see Rodney furiously pacing and quite distraught.

"Rodney, why don't you keep working on the door? Maybe you'll find something that you haven't seen before," Carson suggested, hoping to distract McKay from the distress he was obviously experiencing.

"The door's not working!" Rodney exclaimed. "Nothing I do to it is going to get us out of here, at least not without Colonel Sheppard's help."

"Okay, okay, then, calm down, Rodney and let's think about this. I can buy the Colonel some time if the Netharians have medicines that will depress his immune system. I wouldn't be too happy about using alien medications, but since I wasn't prepared for his condition, I'll take anything I can get. Do you think the scientists would be amenable to sharing immuno-depressants with us?"

"Yes," Rodney said, scathingly. "He's their little lab experiment. I'm pretty sure they'd be happy to give him anything that will keep the testing from being delayed."

Still aghast that he had not been called to Netharia exclusively for medical reasons, Carson wasn't too pleased with the implications of Rodney's statement. He fought the anger that seemed to be his constant companion ever since he had been tricked into being an accomplice to the experiment that was being run on Colonel Sheppard, and instead considered his limited medical resources.

If only he had known beforehand what had been done to the Colonel, he could have brought the correct medicines, could have done a measure of good. Instead, he was forced to rely on the capriciousness of the people who had tricked him, and who were currently holding him and his friends against their will.

"How long do you think it will be until they come to check on us?" Carson remained disturbed that the Netharians had not bothered to confirm Sheppard's medical status and couldn't help but question why the scientists were being so negligent.

"Sheppard told me that they've read the Hoffan records about your involvement with the serum. Apparently, your work with the serum impressed some of the higher ups, so they probably think you can create wine out of water or some such nonsense," Rodney said, managing to answer Beckett's unspoken question and to convey his cynical thoughts on the subject at the same time. Beckett just glared inhospitably at the man. "Well, yes, anyway," Rodney continued. "The little one usually comes by about every three hours. Three seems to be a magic number for her. Although I couldn't…." Rodney halted his diatribe, and his eyes narrowed.

"What? What did you just think of?" Carson asked.

"Nothing terribly important. It's just, if they come bearing Ancient gifts, try not to turn them on or else I think you'll be next in line as lab rat."

"Oh great! That's just absolutely great! You know, this damn gene has been the bane of my existence ever since…."

Anything else that Carson would have said was lost when Sheppard groaned and shifted uneasily on the bed. Beckett grabbed John's arm and desperately willed the man back to consciousness. After a short while, the Colonel's eyes opened wearily, and he made a tired attempt to take in his surroundings.

"What happened?" Sheppard asked the other two men, weakly.

Rodney moved closer to Sheppard's side and answered his question.

"You…passed out," he said, resisting the urge to use the word "faint." John's expression sharpened anyway, as if he could tell exactly what Rodney was really thinking. Rodney only returned the look smugly and refused to say anything further.

"How long?" he asked, conserving his words and thereby his breath. He just couldn't seem to get enough air into his lungs.

"Not long," Carson said, pleased that at least the Colonel had been able to recover in a short period of time. "It was only a few minutes."

"Good," Sheppard said. "The door?"

"We, uh, well, we really didn't get that far," Rodney said, sheepishly. "You passed out before we even got you off the bed."

"Should try…again," Sheppard insisted. He struggled to move, but his efforts only left him shaking and sick.

"Later, son. You need to rest now," Carson said and placed a restraining hand on John's right shoulder. Rodney, he saw, did the same thing on Sheppard's left side.

"Need to…we need…to get…out," John gasped, but his drooping eyelids belied the persistence of his words.

"We will," Rodney said. "Just rest for now."

Carson was grateful that the physicist's single-minded nature had been diverted from opening the door to conserving what little remained of Sheppard's health.

Sheppard struggled a little bit more, but against his will he slipped into sleep. At the same time, the door opened, and Torca entered the room. Carson threw Rodney a panicked look, because door parts were still strewn across the front end of the room. Rodney looked grim and shrugged. It appeared as if the physicist was beyond caring whether or not he got caught.

Torca gave the mess near the door only a cursory glance, before turning a troubled look onto Sheppard.

"You're early," Rodney said caustically. "It hasn't been three hours yet."

Torca ignored the tenor of the comment and instead accosted Carson.

"How is he?"

"He'd be a whole hell of a lot better if you hadn't been injecting him with that serum and feeding him to Wraith!" Rodney exclaimed in frustration.

"I am not addressing you, Doctor McKay," Torca said in response. Rodney appeared to steel himself for another outburst, but Carson flung up a placating hand to prevent McKay from speaking out again. There was something in Torca's expression that Carson found indefinable, but that, at the same time, allowed a small spark of hope to flare within him.

"His condition is serious, lass," he said truthfully. He paused and then stared at her piercingly. "I don't understand how you can do this."

"It is the Oath," she said, feebly.

"Oh yes, the Oath," Rodney sneered. "Sheppard told us all about it. A sacred excuse to perform any unethical deed to anyone who isn't you. It's completely amoral and…."

"Rodney," Carson said softly. "Stop."

The peculiar way in which Beckett had said the words shut McKay up instantly. Carson sent him an imploring look and silently directed the physicist's attention to Torca. McKay looked at the woman but could not discern what it was that Carson was trying to communicate to him. He shrugged at the doctor, and, exasperated, Carson sent him a second glance that was obvious in its insistence.

Beckett wanted Rodney to shut the hell up.

Happy that at least he had gotten one message across to the suddenly dense physicist, Carson ignored the instinctive prickliness that Rodney emanated in response to his unspoken directive. Instead, he returned his attention to Torca.

"The Oath is everything," Torca tried to explain, but Carson was not deaf to the lack of conviction with which the words were spoken. Nor was he blind to the tears brimming within her eyes.

"It's still wrong, lass," Carson said, not unkindly.

Her tears spilled over with his words, and she angrily brushed them away. She moved closer to Sheppard and placed a delicate hand on his chest as if attempting to determine that he still breathed.

"Is he a good man?" she whispered.

"Yes, lass. Perhaps one of the best," Carson said, gently, almost reverently.

She closed her eyes and stood there for a while longer. The tears came faster, but she did not remove her hand from Sheppard's chest to brush them away.

After a moment she pulled away from Sheppard and straightened her posture. Carson saw that the tears had stopped and that a hard decision had been made.

"Bring him and follow me," Torca commanded, and thereby broke her Oath.