DISCLAIMER: I do not own Stargate: Atlantis.
Stargate SG-1 and its characters are the property of Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, and Gekko Productions.
I have written this story for entertainment purposes only and no money whatsoever has exchanged hands. No copyright infringement is intended. The original characters, situations, and story are the property of the author(s).
AUTHOR'S NOTE: I'm finally back with a new chapter! Phew! This was a lot of work and I'm sorry that I couldn't get it out faster, but I think it was well worth it. In this one I have a little bit of info on Sheppard's military background. I hope it's more or less plausible, but as I'm not an expert on the US armed forces, I can't be sure. So if you find some discrepancy feel free to tell me. Other than that, have fun reading!
Chapter Ten
Dawn of a New Age
"DiNozzo!" The loud call made Tony cringe. Sometimes he wondered why he didn't accept the offer of his own team in Rota. "What have you got on Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard?"
His boss strolled in, coffee cup in hand, and looking decidedly grumpy. Inwardly, he sighed. He knew exactly what this was about.
With a nod to McGee, who put up the picture of Sheppard on the big screen, he began to recount what he had found out.
"Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard. He has a father, Patrick Sheppard, CEO of Sheppard Enterprises, and a brother, David Sheppard, who also works in the family business. Has been divorced once and is now married for the second time to a Dr. Elizabeth Weir, a well-known diplomat. He has the qualifications to fly almost anything the Air Force has to offer in terms of helicopters and jets and has also worked as Combat Rescue Officer. Has gotten many recommendations during his time in Afghanistan until something happened – it's classified – and he was transferred to McMurdo in Antarctica. From that point on, he basically disappears. He is listed as the CO of a joint military-civilian project by the name of Critias. I could find nothing on the project."
"There is no connection between Sheppard and Corporal Flannert." McGee jumped in and DiNozzo cringed a second time.
Whatever progress his probie protégé had made in the last few years, he sometimes still didn't see clearly. This was not about the dead marine. This was all about Gibbs' unresolved issues with Jenny Sheppard.
"Then look deeper!" And with that Gibbs turned around and prowled back to the elevator, taking the heavy feeling of anger and subtle aggression with him.
"You shouldn't have done that, Probie."
"What did I do wrong?" The bewildered voice of McGee asked in indignation.
"Never poke angry dragons, Probie, because you might find out that they bite."
Looking at the picture of Sheppard, his face serious and eyes dark, he thought that perhaps he should heed his own advice. Sheppard was a CRO, not to mention probably deep into some black ops shit that Tony had never heard about and never wanted to know about. Now the question remained who the bigger and badder of them was. Strangely enough, for the first time, DiNozzo wouldn't bet on it being Gibbs.
It was a nice, quiet Italian restaurant not far from the NCIS headquarters. Though almost midday, there were not many people present, only some businessmen and two couples, who were decidedly more interested in each other than in anything else. Settling herself at a table in the far back at one of the many windows, she prepared to wait for her two lunch companions.
This restaurant had been an idea of John's new wife, Elizabeth Weir, and Jenny could see at once why the woman had chosen it. It was not that high class and very private. She had eaten here herself from time to time, when she had the opportunity to get away from the paperwork and the politics of being the director of NCIS.
With the whole mess with La Grenouille, the arms dealer she had been after for years and years, Gibbs' almost jealous behavior when it came to her cousin and also her steadily progressing illness, it was great to spend some time with John and his new wife. Admittedly, she was curious about this Dr. Elizabeth Weir. Although born into a family which moved in the higher circles of Washington society, John had never been truly comfortable with that life. He had always been a free spirit, wanting to fly; the reason she believed he joined the military, apart from her father encouraging him.
Of course, she had taken the time to make some discrete enquiries into one Elizabeth Weir and had been surprised to discover that not only had she been a political activist, who was very anti-military in her youth, but also a very successful diplomat, who had mediated for the United Nations and brokered various sensitive international treaties, most notably in North Africa and the Middle East. This was definitely not the type of woman John normally went for, but then, the last five years of John's life, as well as Elizabeth Weir's life, were a mystery even to her.
Although she had told Gibbs to let things rest, she herself had talked with some of her contacts, wanting to find out what had happened to her cousin. Apart from the story that he had been captured by rebels in South America – a story she wasn't sure she could believe –, when he had been in command of the protection detail for some kind of expedition, she only knew that he was now involved in something called Project Critias. And nobody could tell her what that project was about, not even some of her very high placed friends. The only thing anybody was prepared to divulge was that this project was under the jurisdiction of a department in the Pentagon called HWS, though nobody could say what this abbreviation really meant.
It had cost a lot just learning that much about it. Whatever John did, whatever he was involved in, it was very, very big.
On the street, outside, a shiny silver car – an Audi TT – parked in front of the restaurant. With interest, Jenny noticed that it had diplomat license plates. Her curiosity only increased, when a man in an Air Force uniform exited from the driver's side. It took her a moment to recognize her cousin. She hadn't seen him dressed in uniform many times, only once or twice, she believed, so looking at him now, the epitome of a highly decorated officer – she could see the ribbon bar and the medals from here, though she could not decipher them from this distance – was very strange.
Her attention was captured again, when he walked around the car, opened the door and helped a tall woman in a black and red power suit out of it. The woman – Elizabeth she presumed – gave John a winning smile and both walked over to the entrance of the restaurant, going in and quickly finding her.
"Well, suddenly I feel kind of underdressed." She greeted them sardonically.
"Don't." replied John sheepishly. "It's just that we have an appointment at the White House after lunch." He shrugged, not elaborating, before turning to the woman by his side.
"Jenny, this is my wife Dr. Elizabeth Weir. 'Lizabeth, my favorite cousin Jenny Sheppard."
The wide smile blossoming on Elizabeth's face warmed the atmosphere, siphoning the awkwardness right out of the situation. Jenny reached out, shaking Elizabeth's hand – noticing that her grip was strong, her fingers callused –, before motioning for both of them to sit down. Automatically, they seated themselves on opposite sides, the entrance as well as possible exits cataloged and observed. It was a very military reaction, something she had expected from John, but not from his diplomat wife.
"It's great that we could meet while you're still here. John mentioned to me that you would be soon going back to South America."
The woman across from her nodded.
"Yes, that's right. There's still a lot we have to do back there. The work just never ends, you know." She answered good naturedly. "But let's not talk about our jobs. You're the first person of John's family I met," her grin turned mischievous, "so what embarrassing childhood stories can you tell me?"
"Elizabeth!"
"What? You've got plenty blackmail material from my mother, so don't complain."
He stared at her, puppy dog eyes at the forefront and mouth pulled into a pouting expression. It was in that moment that he reminded Jenny of the little boy she had played with in her childhood. Somehow, despite all the hardships he had gone through, something of that child still survived from so long ago. A comforting thought to have.
"You know that those don't work on me, Colonel."
"It never hurts to try." He grinned.
There and then, Jenny decided that she liked Elizabeth Weir.
"Uncle Rodney?" Aras asked skeptically. The bulky communicator the Earth people called a telephone was strange and unfamiliar in his hands. Even when in the constant company of his darius and nia, it was still hard getting used to the life on the planet of the Tau'ri. He had never before seen so many people in one place, unaware and unafraid of the Wraith. Everything here was alien. The transports called cars were primitive and slow, not reaching the beauty of the puddle jumpers, and nobody was armed, too! How could they live without a weapon by their side? Did they not fear anything? Surely even on such a peaceful world, where Wraith had never been heard of, there would be dangers.
"Hey, kiddo." The voice of his uncle greeted him, bringing comfort and safety with it. Uncle Rodney had always been one of his favorite uncles. He had been one of the people who saved him along with his nia from the Worshippers. "How are you doing?"
"I'm great! I met my grandparents yesterday!" And he was still ecstatic about that. He had always wanted to meet the parents of his nia. She had told him so much about them and he found them to be just as nice as she had described. "I played football with darius and Grandpa Will! And Grandpa also told me stories about nia, when she was little."
"It's good to hear you're having fun, Aras."
"And you, Uncle Rodney? You're with your sister's family, right?"
"Yes." His uncle answered, though something in his voice sounded strange. "Yes. It is…nice."
Perhaps his uncle was having the same problems as his darius and nia? Although a little boy, he had always been very perceptive about other people and his surroundings. Aunt Kate had told him that during one of the talks his parents had insisted on, when he first came to Atlantis. It was the result of his time with the Worshippers.
Since coming here, his nia and darius had been on edge the whole time. He had seldom seen them so unsettled. There had been a time when they had negotiated with the Genii in New Valion. His nia had been tense and his darius' eyes had been filled with a cold expression he had only seen once before, when he had rescued them from the prison.
Yes, he decided, the sooner they returned home from this alien world the better.
"So…how are your parents doing?"
Aras shrugged, before remembering that Uncle Rodney couldn't see him through the strange telephone. "They're OK. Darius and nia are eating in something called a restaurant with Aunt Jenny."
"Jenny Sheppard?"
"Yes, darius' cousin. We met her after we found the dead marine in the park and were brought to this NCIS building. The man who questioned us reminded me of Uncle Gene, before he liked me."
Uncle Rodney snorted. Aras knew that in the beginning he, too, had not been on good terms with Uncle Gene. That was before the later began to trust in his abilities and motivations. This mistrust was very troublesome, but Aras was well aware that it was also a good thing for the Chief of Security to have.
"Well, don't think about it. You'll probably never see the man again." He paused. "So you like your grandparents?"
"They're great! They really like me! Grandma makes the best cakes." The tiny cakes were really some of the best he had ever eaten, even up to par with the Rikin cakes Teyla sometimes made. "Uncle Rodney…when will we go home?" The question was asked hesitantly, almost meekly.
"Soon, Aras." His uncle replied warmly. "Don't worry about it. Your parents just have to meet some people before we go and clear some things up. And I promise you, when we get back home, I'll take you up in a jumper for a little tour."
"Really?" Jumper flights with his Uncle Rodney were some of the best adventures ever.
"Really. Now go and behave for the Lieutenant. I'll see you soon."
"Bye, Uncle Rodney."
Aras put down the telephone and went back to sit on the couch of Uncle Dan's brother Roger, taking the controller and continuing to play the game on the X-box. Tau'ri humans were strange, he decided, but they had some awesome games. Perhaps he could persuade Uncle Radek to build him such an X-box, when they got back home.
At least his fears were somewhat put to rest. Uncle Rodney had always been able to put him at ease. Despite his new surroundings, Aras felt a lot better now than he had before. Soon, they would go back home to Atlantis. Until then, he could enjoy this strangeness, his new grandparents and the awesomeness of the X-box.
It was like going into battle, thought Richard, when he stepped into the bare room after passing numerous security checkpoints. Not that he knew what real battle looked like, of course. Nevertheless, the following hours would certainly be interesting, if not illuminating.
For the first time since the Second Gate Alliance Treaty, all IOA member states would be meeting in the same room to decide on the future of Atlantis.
Richard didn't kid himself. This was mostly a done deal. With the offer of Aurora class ships, naquada and various other technological innovations on the table, there would be few who would not say yes to Atlantis' petition of independence.
It jarred at him. The attitude of Dr. Weir and Colonel Sheppard was understandable to a certain point, but, in the end, they were still under the jurisdiction of Earth. Even five years cut off from their homeworld should not have made a difference. But it did. They had gone native over there and though, personally, he could not really find fault with the way they decided to survive, professionally, he had to look out for the best interests of Earth.
An independent Atlantis was a wildcard. He doubted that they would do something against the interests of Earth. Five years were not that long. Nevertheless, it was clear that Weir's and Sheppard's loyalty was to Atlantis first and to everything else, including Earth, second. That meant if they ever had to decide, they would pick Atlantis and that was what disturbed him the most.
But with the backing of the President, as well as O'Neill and Carter…There was not a lot he could do. Though he was the official representative of the United States in the IOA, he was well aware that beside the President, O'Neill and Carter had a lot more pull than he. And given their own relationship – something he had always suspected to be there, even before they somewhat went public –, he had no doubt that they would support Sheppard and Weir.
The door behind him opened, the President, O'Neill and Carter entering before Sheppard and Weir. All military personnel were in their uniforms, even Sheppard, Richard noticed with amusement – was he still in the Air Force? –, their medals shining brightly, showing the world that these were highly decorated officers that had to be respected for their achievements. Weir, on the other hand, was dressed in an impeccable red and black power suit, which accentuated all the right places. She looked ready to take on the world, if not the universe.
"Mr. President. General. Colonel. Colonel. Doctor." He greeted each of them with a nod.
"Mr. Woolsey. It seems we are ready."
The President stepped forward, going over to the only thing in the room. It was a platform with a metallic pillar in the middle. No matter how many times he had been here and used it, Richard would never feel entirely comfortable seeing Asgard transporter technology in the White House.
The Asgard transporter had been a gift from the High Council, though he believed Thor had been largely responsible for it, after they had defeated the Replicators once and for all. Many of these were placed all over Earth, in strategically important positions, thus building a network of fast and secure transportation. It was a very great asset to the Stargate Program and simplified a lot of logistic problems.
The President lightly caressed several runes placed artfully on the Asgard pillar and the world around them went silvery white, the Asgard beam pulling them away to another place. It was over in under a second and though it was definitely less nausea inducing than traveling through the Stargate, which, thankfully, he did not do that often, he still stumbled upon arrival, idly noting that beside him only the President did so.
The arrival room was equally bare, only a duplicate of the Asgard pillar standing in the middle of it. On one side, huge windows, which were definitely not made out of glass, gave a magnificent view of planet Earth.
Richard had not been to the Moon Base often. He had been there, of course, when it had first been completed. It had been a concept that had ghosted around the brains of many SGC scientists and military men and, after the defeat of Anubis, the conception and building of the base were practically inevitable. The Moon Base was, beside the Mars Base, the last defense wall before Earth. Built with the help of Tok'ra crystals and Asgard shielding and cloaking technology, it was almost impossible to find, if one didn't search for it. An Ancient chair with hundreds of drones and a fully charged ZPM was always manned and a squadron of F-302s were on the lookout for trouble. The thought behind the base was that should another enemy ever get into the same position as Anubis – and he had been able to bomb the planet, if he had wanted to! – then the additional defense measures would help trap the enemy in a killing zone from where there was no return.
Thankfully, such a scenario was only theoretical. Still, even without these added defense abilities, the Moon Base was useful. It was completely safe and was therefore the place where negotiations were held or sensitive technologies were stored, before being sent to Beta and Gamma respectively. It was also a port for the steadily growing Tau'ri Fleet, when a ship was near Earth; a necessity for the still secret SGC program.
Despite the monumental importance of the base, Richard had not been here often. The most recent Tok'ra/Tau'ri treaty had been signed and negotiated on Tuznor, the new Tok'ra homeworld, and the Asgard/Tau'ri treaty was done in the Ida galaxy with only the old SG-1 as representatives of Earth there. This was probably the first time that the Moon Base was in full use since its completion.
Slowly, the group made their way out of the room, passing the numerous security checkpoints along the way. Even though it was a safe place, experience taught them the lesson of always being cautious.
It was not a long walk to the conference room. Most representatives were already there, standing around in little groups and talking. The number of countries in the know had increased since the first Gate Alliance Treaty. Now, most of the EU countries were involved, as were Japan, Australia and Israel. It was their very own little United Nations.
He looked at the stern looking Chinese IOA member Shen Xiaoyi and saw the representative talking to General Chekov. Without a doubt, this little get together would be interesting.
"…and why should we accept this deal?"
General Gregoryi Chekov tried not to sigh in exasperation. He really didn't know what the Chinese were working towards. These negotiations had been going on for more than five hours straight, with the IOA members giving arguments why Atlantis should not be independent, while Dr. Elizabeth Weir countered each of them with a sharpness and wit that reminded him of his wife Natasha. It was a disturbing thought, especially considering that he had never been able to win in an argument against his wife.
Looking around the table, he met the inscrutable eyes of General O'Neill. He knew the American well enough that he recognized the expression in his them. He, too, wanted nothing more but to end this charade, acknowledge Atlantis' independence and be done with it.
Gregoryi, personally, didn't see the problem. So what if Atlantis remained largely independent? It only meant that the IOA member states didn't have to pump so much money into it. Considering that the SGC cost the US more than seven-and-a-half billion dollars a year – and that was not counting the Alpha, Beta and Gamma Sites as well as the Moon and Mars Bases and various other projects –, he would have thought that everyone would be quite happy with this arrangement. Atlantis, being in a whole other galaxy, would be a bitch to support. This deal was considerably better.
"It's quite simple Mr. Allister." The cool tone of Dr. Weir's voice sent chills down his spine. Yes, she definitely reminded him of Natasha. "We are not prepared to offer you more."
Apparently, the good doctor was at the end of her patience. In the beginning, things had been pleasant. Both parties had exchanged compliments, discussed the state of the universe and Atlantis in particular. Dr. Weir's offer of Aurora class ships along with energy weapons, naquada, trinium and various other things was received very well. What was not well received was the copy of a document proclaiming Atlantis an independent entity. Control was, as it had always been, something men in power were reluctant to part with.
"Perhaps we can…persuade you to come to a more reasonable decision." The French representative said mildly. Of course, nobody missed the hidden meaning in his words, least of all Weir.
With a smile full of teeth and the menacing presence of Colonel Sheppard beside her, she raised an eyebrow.
"I think not, Monsieur Ranier."
There was a tense silence, before everyone jumped at the sudden clapping noise coming from O'Neill. The man had his happy-go-lucky face on, smiling merrily at the assembled diplomats, not even a little bit disturbed by the fact that he was in the midst of the most powerful people of Earth. His eyes, though, were not smiling. They were deadly serious. Gregoryi recognized that look very well. During their long acquaintance he had seen it only rarely, but when he did, it always meant that the utmost caution was necessary, because Jack O'Neill was on a crusade and neither mortals nor gods would be able to stop him from achieving his goal.
"As enlightening as this conversation is turning out to be, don't you think that we should get to the point?" His tone was nonchalant, but his eyes were menacing. Nobody dared interrupt him. "Dr. Weir made a fair offer: a steady source of naquada and trinium, Ancient technology including ship designs, weapons designs and transporters, as well as an open door policy for possible colonists."
"How can we be sure that Atlantis will not hold anything back?"
"You doubt our word?" It was the first time Colonel Sheppard spoke, but it was effective. A dark, raging coldness seeped from his words, making the French IOA delegate hastily apologize.
"Non, non, mon ami." He shook his head emphatically. "That's not what I mean, not at all." He hesitated. "It's just…you must understand our position. You have been cut off from Earth for five years. That is a long time. Now, with your desire for independence…People change, goals change, loyalties change. We have to be sure."
"And that's why you get an IOA observer stationed on Atlantis." Weir interrupted.
The IOA delegates still looked skeptical and Gregoryi could understand why. Atlantis was a wildcard, an unknown and politicians generally never liked something they couldn't control. An IOA observer should normally put such fears to rest, but this wasn't a normal situation.
"Then, perhaps, we should consider another solution?" O'Neill asked, before pulling something out of his pocket and pushing some kind of button. The sudden, melodic noise was uncanny. Bright light rushed together, forming two small figures. Somehow, Gregoryi had known that O'Neill would play this card.
"Hey, buddy! Lya!" The General greeted the pair with a cheery wave, ignoring the chastising glare sent to him by the President. Lya, the little alien woman, who Gregoryi remembered belonging to the Nox, smiled a serene smile, her organic looking outfit reminding him of the wood nymphs in stories he'd read as a child. The Asgard, on the other hand, blinked with his big black eyes, before replying.
"Hello, O'Neill." It was Thor, he realized suddenly.
O'Neill turned towards the assembled people, spreading out his arms and leaning back into his seat. He seemed completely relaxed, though that was probably, too, a façade.
"The main problem here seems to be mistrust." He paused. "Considering the fact that both parties would inevitably profit more from cooperation than from remaining divided, I propose to have a third, neutral party observe the implementation of the Tau'ri/Lantean treaty. The Asgard and the Nox would monitor the proceedings until such a time when mistrust between us evaporates."
"The Nox would be happy to help your people unite again. We will be impartial in our judgment." Said the melodic voice of Lya.
"We consider it an honor to help the Fifth Race." Added Thor and Gregoryi almost saw how wonderment and startled recognition of his words raced through the humans in the room. He knew of the Great Alliance, of course, because the true history of the universe, as compiled by the History and Archaeology Department of the SGC, was mandatory reading for a post as representative of an IOA member state. To have both Nox and Asgard recognize Earth and the humans originating from there as the Fifth Race…It was a monumental occasion.
Lya seemed to see the effect the words of Thor seemed to have on the gathering and inclined her head slightly.
"Yes. The last two remaining races of the Great Alliance recognize you as the Fifth Race, with the Tau'ri and Lanteans as major powers in their respective galaxies. You are the rightful inheritors of the Alterans. The time has come for you to take your place as one of the Great Races."
"Too long have we stood by and let the universe suffer in the wake of our inactions. It is time to face our responsibilities. Because of this decision, the Asgard High Council in collaboration with the Nox High Council has given me the authority to propose a new Great Alliance to the Fifth Race."
Even O'Neill's eyes bugged at these words. Apparently, he had not been prepared for this. None of them had. But he could see Weir's eyes shining with excitement and O'Neill almost glowing with satisfaction after the short shock.
"Together we will make the galaxies safe again and our races prosper through cooperation and respect."
In that moment, Gregoryi felt as if he had just witnessed history in the making. It had begun as a meeting on Atlantis' status, no matter that it had been decided long ago, but ended in an event greater event than anything he had ever seen. There was no question as to what the answer of the various IOA member states would be. This was the birthing hour of the Second Great Alliance, the dawn of a new age. And he, General Gregoryi Chekov, had been there.