Chapter 10: A Higher Half-truth

Galactica

The Galactica repair crews raced to seal off compartments exposed to the vacuum of space. But it wasn't enough. So many years of patching and repairing an old ship without access to spare parts left the crews with little to use. Galactica's commander, Admiral William Adama was grateful for Atlantis offers of help. While many feared the new association, Adama felt cautiously optimistic. So far, this new group of humans seemed to be gods send. At any rate, they were willing to help, whatever their final objective. The situation needed resources immediately. Later could wait.

Atlantis scientist, Dr. Rodney McKay, went with a team of Galactica damage control teams to assess the more complex damage to the power generators. McKay was most interested in the power generation issues and how they tied into the jump drives. As such, he was the most likely Atlantis personnel to be able to help with the generators and the jump drive.

The generators and Faster Than Light (FTL) 'jump' drive used something called Tyllium. As far as anyone could tell, Tyllium was not naquadah or its derivative, naquadria. At least Tyllium could be mined from a planet… carefully. So, SG Teams were scouring the two galaxies looking for some without success.

Recently, McKay had been working with engineers to use naquadah generators as substitutes for non-propulsion systems. This day he brought several naquadah generators and the techs to install them. As powerful as the naquadah generators were, the power consumption of a Battlestar propulsion system was more enormous than the devices could handle. So they were used for secondary systems and life support.

"We can't pass any farther, Dr. McKay," Chief Tyrol announced. The chief ran the Flight Deck on the Galactica, but was also the highest ranking non-com engineer. He knew the ship. Looking at the damaged bulkhead, he told McKay, "The ship is open to space past this point."

"What exactly was supposed to be there?"

"Here," Tyrol put up a schematic drawing of this section. "We had spare parts in one section. The other compartment had the actual generators. If it's gone, the only ones left are on the port side of the ship. We split the two power plants for just this situation. However, the missile ripped right through to the port side. We lost two out of four generators there. It will be months before we can fabricate more, if we can find the materials."

"What about your refined ore supplies?"

"Most of it is on the ore processing ship and some is on each ship. We keep those supplies completely separate from the engines and the generators because Tyllium is highly explosive at high temperatures."

"So, secondary explosions are a factor," McKay finished. "Ok, you have fuel, but not enough generators."

"We could try to tie in some from the other ships, but their generators are only for civilian craft and not powerful enough. The Pegasus needs the ones it has. They have no spares. One of our ships has to be at full readiness."

"McKay," he activated his headset. "Bring a naquadah Mark VI to the Chief's office on the flight deck. Yes, now. What do you think I'm doing? Waiting for a bus?" McKay turned to the Chief, "I have something that might work. Get a few of your senior engineers and master technicians to join us."

"Naquadah generator?"

"Yeah, very powerful. We've been working on ways to marry the two types of systems. We're always patching alien tech into our stuff."

"You can do that?"

"Odd, but yes." McKay waited for the Chief to lead the way back. "You should see Sam, er, Colonel Carter do it, of course, not as well as I can. She learned it from me. She's a real artist with alien tech. She's like a fine pianist. Piano, um that's a musical instrument. I'm quite good with one of those, too. Speaking of which," McKay activated the headset. "McKay, where's Colonel Carter? We could use her on the flight deck. Tell her to put down whatever creepy Cylon body part she's handling and try some real work."

McKay's face fell as he listened. His eyes widened as he learned that Sam was missing last seen at the morgue. "Oh crap!" Turning to Chief Tyrol he grabbed the man's shoulders going nose to nose. "Quick, where is the morgue?"

"It's two decks down."

"We have to get down there."

"We can't. It's either open to space or impassable. Most of that deck is just gone."

"Gone? Oh, um, think McKay. Can we get to it from the outside? We should take a look at this from the outside, right? I mean we need to know." McKay choked up. "Colonel Carter may still be there. It's got air if it's still there?"

"I don't know." Tyrol called the bridge to ask. No one had an answer.

"Tell them I want a ship to go look. And I need a pilot. What am I saying? We have Jumpers." McKay hurried off to the Flight Deck, yelling into his headset to roust a team for a Jumper. "I'll fly the damn thing myself if I have to. I've done it before. I'm getting good at ad hoc rescues. No make that great."

Tyrol had no choice but to follow. These Atlantis people were another breed. But this one reminded Tyrol of Gaius Baltar and his arrogant brilliance. The Chief called Cally to get whatever was in the way out of the way before they got there. Going outside to look was a good idea no matter whose it was.

By then, they were running.

President Roslin's office on Arula

"Mr. Woolsey, this situation is exactly the reason we should be sent to Earth," Roslin hung up the phone after Adama's initial report from the Beta Site. "The Galactica is seriously damaged. It can't jump. It's lost the power generators as well as the water tanks with their purification system. I've got over thirty thousand people in another star system because the two Battlestars guard the civilian fleet. And now, one has to guard both the civilians and the other Battlestar. Until the Galactica can jump, no one can come back."

"I realize it is an inconvenience, Ma'am, but the Daedalus is due back in a day or so. It is more than capable of protecting the Fleet."

"Really, Mr. Woolsey?" Roslin said flatly. She wasn't asking. She was accusing. "So that leaves us and Atlantis without a ship. In other words, this accident may finally open your eyes."

"Oh, I wouldn't worry about Atlantis just yet, Ma'am," Woolsey said confidently.

He knew the shields, the cloak, and the Ancient Chair weapon were all operational. Moreover, the Chair had been re-stocked. There were even enough spare drones to refill the one in Antarctica twice over. Because of today's discovery, he knew O'Neill was hoping that this accident revealed another source of drones to salvage. Even better, this chair had a working Z.P.M. to power it. Starbuck had launched half a dozen as proof. Maybe there was more down there.

"You look far too satisfied, Mr. Woolsey." Roslin eyed him carefully.

"I'm happy that no one was killed and that we continue to have your cooperation." Woolsey's lawyer mentality gave him the smooth response. "As long as I'm here, perhaps we could plan a joint statement to your media?"

Roslin smiled with half her upper lip in a rueful gesture. "No doubt, we shall ask you to make a statement. But I already have my staff working on the press conference." She indicated her aide in the outer office making calls. "Nearly everyone is…elsewhere. So there's no rush."

"Ma'am, it is a simple matter to broadcast to the fleet at the Beta Site.

"It is. Well, that's comforting to know." Roslin wasn't sure how that was useful. Still being able to reassure the populace would show her control of the situation. She nodded in agreement. "Then as soon as we are ready, we would like to accept General O'Neill's kind offer to support our communications while separated."

"Then is there any other issue you would like to discuss?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact there is," Roslin sat back and settled in comfortably. "We are curious, Mr. Woolsey about your advanced medicine."

"What specifically would you like to know?"

"Since we have many injured who need medical attention, I would like to thank you for offering medical assistance. The Galactica's medical facilities have lost power and may be damaged. The Pegasus is nearly out of medical supplies even after your generous deliveries. So many needed attention that we have nearly used up what we have received. They will be overwhelmed quickly. What I would like to know is if there are any restrictions on your doctors about the care they are allowed to render?"

Woolsey seemed surprised. "Of course not, they will receive the same high standards of care we offer all our people."

"That is a generous offer. But still, I wonder if there are more effective life saving possibilities on Earth. If your doctors here can not provide certain expertise, will you offer my people those opportunities on Earth?"

"Each case will be considered individually, ma'am. If someone needs a specialist or care we cannot provide here," Woolsey paused. "Of course, we would need your approval now so that decisions can be made by the doctors quickly on site. That is if you trust us."

"I'm learning to trust you, Mr. Woolsey. I am gratified to know that your people are so…charitable." She seemed pensive. "But I am wondering what you will do if someone dies in your care."

"The body will be returned here, of course."

"Wouldn't you try to revive that person?"

"If the doctors pronounce them dead, what else could we do?"

"I'm asking you, Mr. Woolsey. What indeed?"

Roslin realized Woolsey had no idea what she meant. His face registered confusion. She wondered how to ask it more directly without tipping her hand that she knew more.

Atlantis

General O'Neill stood there directing the rescue efforts feeling helpless to do something for Carter. Reports filtering back from the Beta Site indicated she had been in the decks destroyed by the drone. Still, they'd come out alive so many times, this was one more. Wasn't it?

"Is the Daedalus in range yet?" O'Neill paced looking out at the Gate activities.

"No sir, not for another 7 hours." The Tech didn't say that only ten minutes had passed since the last time asked.

"What are in those boxes," Jack rumbled.

"EVA suits, sir, in case they have to get inside from the outside."

"Right. What about…"

"Already sent, sir." The Tech knew the General pretty well by now.

"Anyone have one of those Goa'uld hand healing doodads," O'Neill asked his aide?

"Yes, sir. We have one in Dr. Beckett's office safe. But with Colonel Carter…unavailable… you are the only person present who can operate it."

Jack had a mental shudder. His blending with Kanan left residual naquadah in his blood so he could operate Goa'uld devices. He didn't like to admit it or dwell. Everyone knew a blended host could.

"Dial the SGC," Jack ordered. The Gate dialed the eight chevrons necessary for intergalactic gate travel and engaged. "This is Atlantis Base, O'Neill for Landry."

Chief Master Sergeant Walter Harriman paged Landry to the Control Room overlooking the Stargate.

"Hank, we have a situation. We found an Ancient outpost on the Colonial's planet Arula. One of their officers set off drones from a Chair Weapon. The Galactica took damage. Lots of wounded."

"Copy that. What do you need?" Landry frowned.

"Send Vala and another one of those Goa'uld hand healing devices. We also need more medical supplies, doctors, and a few medics if you can spare them. Plain text message is coming with a list. We may need burn specialists and some thoracic surgeons for heavy trauma injuries. Have Dr. Lam send what she thinks will help immediately and work the problem there from that end. And contact the Tok'ra. We could use some more of those hand healer doohickeys. Tell them they might wind up with some volunteers out of it."

O'Neill referred to the idea of using terminal patients as Tok'ra hosts. If a dying patient would agree, he could blend with a symbiote for a cure. It was a given that the Tok'ra could operate the hand healers. So could Vala. She was another resource for using Goa'uld devices, having been a host. So she had the necessary naquadah in her blood, as did O'Neill and Carter.

"I don't like that part. I'll have to call the Pentagon on that one. I'll let you know. And Jack, Vala is off-world on business with SG-13. They should check in later today, but I can't guarantee when."

"Copy that. Hank, we have a treaty or we had one with the Tok'ra. See if any are still willing to come or if they have a line on a sarcophagus. And ask Teal'c to persuade the Jaffa to share."

"You know they categorically said no the last time. They don't think we have a treaty any more. The new leader is a real hard ass about us lowly Tau'ri."

"Hank," Jack paused briefly. "Hank…Carter is missing. She was onboard."

Landry blinked. His eyes grew hard as ice. He knew Carter was not expendable. Still she insisted on these front line posts, however much the brass tried to keep her out of firefights these days. They had detailed her to Atlantis as Jack's second-in-command. At least, she wasn't leading frontline teams out on expeditions anymore. But it was never that simple.

"Consider it done, Jack, Landry out." Turning to the diminutive non-com he said, "Get Teal'c on the line. Those Jaffa sons of bitches are going to come through this time."

Galactica CIC

The reports on casualties were not as bad as they could have been. Many personnel were working on Arula trying to get it habitable as quickly as possible. Once they were finished with their shifts on board ship, most did another shift down on the planet. Casualties were on the decks which contained the morgue, the generators, the water treatment facility, and the water tanks. The water tanks required most of the space damaged in the ship. The loss of the water treatment facility was bad enough. But it was largely automated, as were the generators. The morgue was unused since no battles had been fought for two months. Only Cylon bodies used for scientific analysis remained. The two deaths from natural causes had been buried on the planet below. The generators needed only a skeleton staff since power requirements had been minimal recently. Some of them had been doing related chores in other compartments when the missile hit. Some people were in corridors adjacent on the decks affected or in offices above or below. Still, the loss was devastating.

Colonel Saul Tigh handled the rescue efforts, coordinating from the bridge. He directed the teams to the resources available and made the necessary decisions. As the Atlantis Jumpers arrived on the Flight Deck with rescue and repair teams, he directed that effort as well. Adama listened to the man and was glad his old friend had once again stepped up to the plate and operated as the efficient officer Adama knew he could be. Saul's functional alcoholism was well known. Now that they had new access to a new supply of beverages, Saul had actually cut back. This morning he was stone cold sober.

So when the news came that the Atlantis Colonel, Samantha Carter, had been on the affected decks for a meeting regarding the Cylons, Adama knew Atlantis would throw extra resources at the situation. Previously, Adama had made inquiries about her. He knew she was highly prized by O'Neill. But there was something more. His information indicated a long association. But other people regarded her with awe for her brilliance as a scientist and courage as an officer. He would have been glad to have such an officer. Oh, sure, Adama figured O'Neill would help anyway. But, this put a real fire under the man's feet.

Even so, Adama was surprised to learn that O'Neill was coming in person. He shook his head at the notion of a commander leaving his post during a crisis to micro-manage a situation. The best course was to let subordinates do their jobs and only direct as needed from a central point on wider issues. Adama instructed that O'Neill should be brought to the bridge as soon as he landed. Keeping him out from underfoot could be accomplished diplomatically by hosting him in the CIC or in the Admiral's office.

What he didn't expect was why O'Neill really came. Once on board, O'Neill received the invitation to proceed to the bridge. He let the Admiral know this was not a social call. Instead, he asked Adama to meet him in Adama's office in private. Adama was annoyed to be taken from the bridge, yet he complied. Once the two commanders were in private and shook hands, Jack took the initiative.

"Bill, I know you are needed on the bridge, but this is urgent."

"I know. Colonel Carter is missing, presumed dead."

"It's more than that." Jack closed his eyes before making his purpose known. "Bill, I'm here to render medical assistance in a unique way."

"I didn't know you were a doctor."

"I'm not. But I do have an ability to heal which is unorthodox to say the least." Jack waited for Adama to nod. Then he withdrew the Goa'uld hand healing device and placed it on the desk. "This is an alien medical device. I can't guarantee good results. But the odds drastically improve for someone if I use it in time."

"And you are going to operate it? Why?"

"Because, I am the only one present who knows how to operate it."

"Explain."

"Bill, this instrument can heal internal injuries, broken bones…things like that, on the spot."

Adama swallowed considering the statement. It was a fantastic claim. But O'Neill's presence warranted caution.

"No why are you the only person who can use it?"

"Long story," Jack said evasively."

"How does it work?"

"I don't know. The science is beyond us."

"And you have done this before?"

"Yes."

"When you say improve the odds, what are we talking about?"

"Done in time, it can do the job. Sometimes normal medical science has to finish the job. I won't know before I begin."

Adama regarded him silently. If O'Neill really had such a thing and failed, the storm of protest would be unimaginable. If he succeeded, the religious frenzy would engulf the Fleet.

"Time is the key."

"Jack, you should know that there will be serious fallout no matter whether you are successful or not."

"Why?"

"Your people must have told you about the rumors going around about you."

Jack sighed heavily, "Your call, Bill."

"I'm not sure I can, Jack. The situation is nearly out of control."

"So what are you saying, Bill?"

"Jack," Adama sighed. "I am impressed that you would make this offer in person, risking yourself to help my people." Adama looked Jack in the eye. "You've put me in a difficult position."

"We do it in privately on someone your doctor can't help," Jack offered.

Adama thought it over and then made the call to the medics. Then he alerted the bridge he could not be interrupted. Tigh acknowledged.

"Follow me; we have someone who needs extra help."

Adama had the guards escort them to the emergency triage position on another deck. The wounded were on the floors and in the hallway. Already, Atlantis doctors and medics were unpacking supplies and setting up. Adama spoke to Dr. Cottle in quiet tones. The man seemed surprised but moved to a man on a stretcher. The patient had a bloody abdominal bandage. Cottle showed what was underneath to Adama, shaking his head to say it was fatal. Adama nodded. Jack motioned for a privacy screen. An Atlantis doctor came over to assist.

"Bill, there will be a very bright light."

"Get everyone out of here but yourself, Doctor."

"Admiral, I can't…"

"Do it, Doc."

"Okay, everyone listen up. We have to take a break for a few minutes. Go eat something, drink, go to the bathroom, and stay out until you are called back in."

The startled medical teams filed out, grumbling. Once the door was shut to the compartment, Doc Cottle pulled a drag on the cigarette stub perpetually dangling from his lips.

"Okay, what miracle drug are we going to test out on our people now?"

"Remember, Doc, you never saw any of this. Go ahead, Jack."

Jack walked over to the man on the gurney. He was unconscious. Jack fitted the device on his hand and raised it over the man's middle. Closing his eyes, he activated it. He winced as the information flooded into his mind. But he kept the power steady. Slowly he moved it up and down the man's torso. When it was done, Jack shut it off. He opened his eyes to get his bearings. The man appeared to be resting peacefully. Doc Cottle quickly went to take the man's readings and examine the wound. Pulling back the bandages, he looked up in shock.

"There is no sign of trauma! Nothing, not a mark!" Cottle stared at O'Neill and became frightened. "It's true," he whispered.

"Let me see," Adama pushed him away. Removing the rest of the bandages, Adama saw only fresh pink skin under the blood soaked bandages and the torn uniform. He looked up at Jack with tears in his eyes. Unabashedly, he wiped them away with his fist. Motioning for the next case, the Atlantis doctor, his medic, and Doc Cottle put forward the most acute injury.

One after another they worked through the couple dozen patients in the compartment. As Jack completed the task with each one, both Colonials examined the results with mixed awe and fear. Some of the patients became conscious, requiring Doc Cottle to settle them down. A few he simply injected with sedative so they would not remember events clearly. One who had a broken leg got up and walked away confused. He was told it was someone else's blood and that he was just knocked unconscious in the accident.

Jack finished with all but two when the call came from McKay. They had found Carter by the transporter location chip in her arm. She was trapped in a sealed compartment slowy running out of air. It was also inaccessible by any means other than Puddle Jumper from space. Jack gave the rescue a go ahead and went to work on the final two. Unfortunately, one man died waiting for Jack to finish the other. When Jack checked him, he shook his head.

"I'm sorry, Bill. There's nothing I can do for him."

Neither Adama nor Cottle could manage words. Their gratitude was in their eyes.

What they didn't realize was that repair crews restored power to the security cameras in the midst of Jack's efforts. Everyone on the Bridge and in Security watched in amazement. So did some people who had previously hacked into the security system. The feed went out to the Fleet once the hackers realized what was happening. Even President Roslin got the video when she dialed in to make her press statements.