Author's Note: I apologize for a late posting, but I forgot this afternoon. And then I had unexpected company. But it's my high school best friend and her family, so I can't complain. :) This chapter contains minor spoilers for "Whispers" and spoilers for "The Queen." Hope you enjoy! ~lg
oOo
"Evan, come with me." Andren's tone brooked no arguments, and Evan set aside his sketch pad, leaving it on the back patio as he followed the doctor inside. He'd been drawing images from his nightmare after having been awake since the very early hours of the morning. He'd tried loosening the sheets to return to bed, but he simply couldn't relax.
He'd remembered her name! That alone thrilled him. He felt like a kid who had been given his greatest desire. And, yet, he didn't have full access. While he remembered events, he could not name the place he called home. And it went beyond frustrating.
Inside, Evan blinked when Acton rose from his place in front of Andren's desk. Andren closed the door behind them and motioned Evan into a chair.
Acton wasted no time. "Maitland has been discovered."
Evan sent an alarmed glance to Andren, who shook his head. The doctor shrugged, his own concern evident on his face. "We have no idea how."
For a moment, Evan wondered if Acton suspected him of betraying Maitland. But he'd not even spoken to the other man during his visit yesterday, nor had he acknowledged his presence. Nothing, not even the tiniest glance, had passed between them. He hadn't seen Culver since the dinner party where he received his actual orders.
Acton speared Evan with a stare. "We think you could help him."
"Me?" Evan blinked. "I have no idea how."
"Oh, I think you do." Acton smiled, though his eyes showed no trace of friendliness. "Relax, Evan. I do not suspect you of betraying our cause. Quite the opposite. I know for a fact that Culver favors you as a hero. I merely wish to use that to our advantage, getting you into the Ministry and freeing Maitland before he can be interrogated."
"And by interrogated you mean tortured," Evan said dryly. The more he learned about Culver, the less he liked the guy. Handlebar mustache or not, he wasn't the friendly face he pretended. He hadn't had a chance to do any research, but he could already see the writing on the wall. This government was ready to collapse, and Culver would have to make a bold move to keep it together.
"Exactly." Acton jabbed a finger through the air. "I'd like you to go to the Ministry with Andren tomorrow. Andren will demand to see the prisoner on the premise of rendering medical assistance. You will be responsible for getting him out." Satisfied with himself, Acton stood.
"Wait." Evan held up a hand. "Just the two of us?"
"Do you need more men?"
Evan wanted to say that he wanted his team, but he remembered in time that he didn't have a team. Drawing himself up to his full height, he nodded. "I'll see what I can do."
"Good." Acton waved Andren back into his chair. "I'll let myself out."
After the man left, Andren glared at Evan. "Do you understand what just happened?"
"Yeah, we've landed ourselves in something we can't get out of." Evan shook his head. "Andren, I remembered a lot last night. Names. Faces. But nothing that can help us now."
Andren leaned forward. "You're a military man, Evan. A strategist. From what I've seen of your drawings, you have no problems with taking on the seemingly impossible situations."
Evan let out a deep breath. "Okay." He reached for a blank sheet of paper and pushed a pen toward Andren. "Draw me a schematic of the Ministry and prison."
oOo
Kaela rose late, the result of having been awakened during the night. She dressed for the day, left her room, and wandered out onto the back patio. Normally, she would watch Evan swimming in the surf, turning away before he left the water. Today, she was grateful she'd missed the morning ritual.
What kind of man had nightmares so bad that he woke the entire house? Or locked himself in his room? When he'd opened the door to see them standing there, he'd blinked in confusion and then turned to stare at the bed. Kaela's heart had broken when she saw the dazed, frightened look in his eyes, and she felt herself withdrawing.
Could she really handle someone like Evan? Was she cut out to become involved with a man whose nightmares caused violent reactions? She'd had her share of bad dreams, but none had incited that sort of reaction.
A breeze blew across the patio and ruffled pages. Kaela turned and caught sight of Evan's sketch pad. That man had just left her father's study and headed upstairs with a determined look on his face, so she began flipping through the images. At first, she saw multiple drawings of the woman he clearly loved. Her smile. Laughing. Angry. All kinds of expressions in between. Then came pictures of his men. He'd labeled each of them in a writing she could not read, but she saw the way he showcased them. And then, she found the stories drawn rather than written. She followed the sequences of events, seeing the harsh reality she'd ignored.
Evan was more than just a soldier. He was highly trained by his military to carry out the toughest of assignments, much like many of the veterans she served in the soup kitchen. Men like Evan didn't just break down and have nightmares that caused them to shout the house awake. They typically held it in until they could withstand the pressure no longer.
Then, she came to the recent sketches. After pages of sketches of different people, including the faces he'd painted for the gallery, she found the true cause of his nightmares. A self-portrait sent a chill down her spine. In the image, Evan lay in a bed while tentacles grew from his stomach.
Kaela slammed the sketch book closed and drew in ragged breaths. These images reminded her of the horrific stories told by children around a campfire. The intention was to scare the younger ones so the older ones could enjoy more time to themselves. Evan had lived those stories, though, and Kaela shook her head. All this time, she'd imagined him as a leader, a man who spent his time training. Not out in the field. If they were to even begin a relationship—which she'd come to doubt—how would she handle his emotional scars? Could she handle his scars?
All at once, she was grateful that he'd put a wall between them. It would make it easier to withdraw.
oOo
Jennifer stared out the view port of the Puddle Jumper, her eyes wide.
John glanced back at her. "Never seen a Hive in space, huh?"
"I've never seen one, period." Jennifer realized what she'd said. "I mean, I've seen video logs but never in person."
"Ah, you never forget your first time," Rodney said with a smirk.
Jennifer glanced at him and returned to watching the approaching Hive ship. Over the last twenty-four hours, Rodney's attitude toward her had changed. It seemed as if he'd decided it wasn't in his best interest to antagonize the Chief of Medicine. Jennifer had never used her position in that fashion, but she appreciated the thought. And the relief. Having Susanna spill her guts about liking Rodney put Jennifer in the mood of a matchmaker, but she didn't want Rodney to feel pressured.
The last twenty-four hours had not been without its stresses. In her free time, Jennifer had been working on perfecting Carson's retrovirus, trying to use the information from Michael's hybrids and apply it in such a way that it neutralized the Wraith's need to feed on human life. With Evan missing, she'd devoted more and more hours to the work, needing the distraction. And she'd made a breakthrough right as Colonel Sheppard and Major Teldy returned to Atlantis with the remnants of the major's team. Alicia Vega's body had not even been able to be recovered from the planet with the freaky hybrids Michael had left behind. Jennifer had tried to be supportive, but she'd felt woefully inadequate to offer any comfort to them. So she'd run.
Right to a Hive ship? she asked herself sarcastically. She still couldn't believe arrangements had moved this fast. John had managed to sneak in a four-hour nap-doctor's orders-before piloting their Jumper up to Todd's Hive. They'd been invited, of course, but it still didn't make their situation any less insane.
John received docking instructions, and Jennifer felt as if the Jumper had been swallowed by the Hive. Which was an accurate description. She stared as they landed and jumped when someone—or, rather, something—pounded on the back hatch of the Jumper.
John smirked. "Right on cue."
Ronon drew his blaster and twirled it while John retrieved the rifle sitting next to Jennifer's medical kit. She stayed in her seat for a moment and then pushed herself to her feet. Rodney actually offered her a sympathetic smile before rising and following Teyla to the rear of the little ship. John opened the hatch, and Jennifer drew back when she saw two Wraith drones with stunners.
John tensed. "This looks a little familiar."
A raspy voice interrupted the tension. "Lower your weapons."
The Wraith drones glanced back and lowered their stunners. John and Ronon glared as Todd appeared. The Wraith commander eyed both of them. "My apologies. You understand: you can't be too careful."
Jennifer wanted to roll her eyes. But John and Ronon lowered their weapons before she could say anything.
Todd grinned at them. "Welcome to my ship."
oOo
Evan sat back in his chair and rolled his shoulders. He'd been hunched over the crudely drawn schematic for hours, trying to figure the best way to infiltrate the Ministry and free Maitland. Not that he wanted Maitland to escape. But he wanted to make sure Acton trusted him. It would make his job for Culver much easier. . .if he continued to work for Culver. Either way, having allies both in the Ministry and in Acton's group could work in his favor.
He ran a hand over his face and blinked gritty eyes at the map. Andren had marked guard posts and armory locations, but much of it was guesswork. Evan sighed. He had less than twenty hours before he would pull off an extraction that a special operations team would normally execute. Then, he frowned. Was this an "extraction" or a jail break? The lines had been blurred, and he wasn't able to tell the difference any longer.
Pushing away from the small table in his bedroom, Evan reached for his sketchpad and frowned. It wasn't in its normal place on his nightstand. He stood and looked around the room, belatedly realizing that he'd left it on the back patio when Acton arrived that morning. It was now late afternoon. If anyone was going to look at it, the damage had been done. Rather than panicking, he took the time to put his plans for the next day away before heading downstairs.
"Please." Andren's semi-desperate voice came from the kitchen as Evan passed. "Do this for me."
"Andren." Maeryn sounded worried. "What is happening?"
Evan moved quietly, putting his back to the wall and peering around the corner. Andren, Maeryn, and Kaela stood in the kitchen, all three standing close by. The women looked distressed, and Andren was doing his best to hide his fear. None of them saw him, and he hated to eavesdrop. But he'd reached the stage of needing to know everything.
Andren let out a sigh. "I just think you should get out of the city for a while."
Evan pulled away from the door and headed for the back patio. So Andren was sending his family away. That could mean that he expected them to fail in their rescue of Maitland. Or it could mean that he was merely making provisions. If it had been Jen in this situation, Evan likely would have asked her to leave town as well.
But would she? He knew she was a doctor, and he knew she was strong. But was she strong enough to endure what he was about to do? He thought so based on his memories and the instinctive feelings he had. After all, she was a doctor. And doctors went into all kinds of situations to treat their patients.
He found his sketchbook on the table where he'd left it, but the pencil had disappeared. He didn't remember closing the book, but that didn't matter. Someone had likely seen it by now.
Taking the sketchbook back to his room, Evan eyed the half-finished painting of the two boys. His sons? He still thought it was a possibility, but that thought had begun fading. If he did half of the things he'd remembered thus far, he likely had shied away from romantic relationships. Which made his love for Jen that much more amazing in his mind.
With a sigh, Evan returned to his plans and spent the next two hours pouring over the schematics. He saw a possible weakness they could exploit for their escape. But he would have to get Maitland out of the cell before he could use the lax security at the hospital next to the Ministry. Ironically, it was the same hospital where he'd met Andren.
A knock on his door brought his head up. He quickly closed the file he'd compiled—habit, maybe—and answered the knock. Kaela peered up at him. "Do you have a few moments?"
Evan stepped out of his room and followed her downstairs. "What's on your mind?"
Kaela shrugged. "I just wanted to let you know that I'm taking a trip. Going to be visiting family in the countryside."
His eyebrows rose. So that's what Andren planned to use to keep his family safe. "And this isn't a good thing?"
She shrugged. "It is, I guess. But Father is anxious. I just wanted to make sure you'll take care of him while Mother and I are gone."
Evan suddenly understood her concern. He'd worried about Andren's involvement with Acton and wondered if it was such a great thing. He couldn't imagine being the man's child and knowing some of what was happening. Rather than nodding, he reached out and touched her elbow. "I'll look after him as much as I can."
Kaela smiled suddenly, her relief temporarily drowning out the fear in her eyes. "Thank you, Evan." She stepped around him and returned to her preparations. An hour later, Evan watched from the train platform as she and her mother left their home behind.
oOo
Dahlia Radim headed for the Stargate with a happy expression on her face. Her position in her brother's government afforded her many liberties, but she rarely took advantage of them. Today, however, it was time to put the Genii's trading agreements to work for her own personal gain.
As she dialed a favorite address, Dahlia ironically thought that she was doing exactly what Cowen had done in the past. Unlike Cowen, however, this was not a regular occurrence. She had a fondness for art from various worlds, and her recent advancement prompted her brother, Ladon, to approve her purchase of a new painting for her personal quarters. She hadn't been to Orenth in a long time, not since the days following her recovery in Atlantis. But she looked forward to seeing the unique art created by their artisans. Who knew if she'd walk away with a painting or a sculpture? The gallery she planned to visit had both.
As the wormhole established, a brief worry flitted through Dahlia's mind. She hadn't been to Orenth since the beginning of the civil war. For that reason, her brother assigned two men to protect her, and they would remain in the background as she browsed the art. No one could fault her, the sister of the Genii's leader, for having bodyguards so long as they didn't cause a disturbance. One of them stepped through the gate and soon responded that the area was clear.
Dahlia walked through the wormhole and came face to face with Culver, the current Prime Minister of Talgrom. He smiled at her in a friendly way, but she could not shake the concerns Ladon had instilled in her. "Prime Minister."
"Dahlia Radim." Culver bowed slightly out of respect for her. Meant to be graceful, it gave her the impression of a man merely biding his time to strike. "Welcome to Orenth."
"Thank you." She smiled slightly. "The art gallery?" Better to keep things on the level, she thought, using a phrase she'd heard while on Atlantis. Thinking of those people, she wondered how they'd fared in recent days. Their relocation had been cause for worry about a year ago, and the recent batch of problems created by this Michael had necessitated several trips to the city. Ladon had taken those, much to Dahlia's consternation. She hadn't had a chance to visit since recovering from radiation poisoning.
Colonel Sheppard had visited Ladon not long ago with news of a missing officer. Dahlia didn't know which officer had gone missing, but she'd heard that Dr. Beckett had died. Sadness for the kind doctor, as well as for the distant friends she'd made in the city, had pricked at her mind but been put aside for the sake of the Genii. Her new life did not need regrets, and she would not waste it. Still, she often thought about that city.
Culver made small talk as they walked into Talgrom. Dahlia had often wondered why the people didn't at least bring a wagon or some such transportation out to the gate, but she endured the endless prattling about recent events, a new hero who had saved several soldiers, and the arrival of refugees from yet another world. She tucked each of the tidbits away in her mind for Ladon, knowing he'd want to hear them. But, for now, she planned to find the perfect piece of art.
At the gallery, Culver bowed again in that ingratiating way of his. "I must return to the Ministry. I hope your search is successful."
Dahlia smiled slightly. "Thank you, Prime Minister." She waited until Culver and his escort had disappeared before entering the art gallery.
Paintings of various types assaulted her, and she shook her head. The recent war must have changed the art styles of this world, and she wasn't fond of monochromatic color tones. She got enough of gray and green in the Genii city. She wanted vibrancy, light, and the illusion of motion. Then she turned and saw a flash of color. Moving in that direction under the watchful eye of the proprietor, she entered an area with several paintings, all of which set her heart to pounding.
The paintings were bright and vibrant, but Dahlia ignored that. Glancing at the price, she realized she could purchase two of them. And she chose wisely. Carrying the paintings back to the gate, she prepared her spiel for Ladon and for Atlantis.
It looked as if she'd found their missing officer.
oOo
The spires of the city rose in front of him as he walked into the warm ocean air. It smelled different here. In his last home, the ocean smelled like an ocean. This one. . . .He couldn't describe it. But the colors, the sounds, the day/night cycle, and a host of other things was so different from what he'd been accustomed.
He set aside his load and walked to the edge of the balcony. It felt good to be free. To know that his mistakes of the past weren't going to haunt him forever. He could finally let go of all the guilt he'd secretly carried since Carson's death.
Setting up the canvas, he prepared his paints and began working on a landscape. While the city was still fuzzy in his dream, it was perfectly clear on the canvas. Beautiful spires that reflected the morning sun. A star-shaped layout. He felt as if he'd painted the image from above, from the machine he used to fly though he couldn't be sure. But he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he'd lived in this city for a long time. And he felt as if he'd come home.
Evan woke slowly, his covers thrown back but not over him. He rubbed his eyes and blinked at the faint hint of dawn. Today, he would infiltrate Talgrom's Ministry building to free Maitland. He'd retired late, his mind whirling with all his plans to get the man out alive. If everything went according to those plans, he should return to this room later this evening with Acton none the wiser to his true affiliation.
And what was that? Evan had managed to figure out that he supported neither of the governing bodies on Orenth. He just could not shake the suspicion that Culver was hiding something in order to stay in office. But he had no proof. Nor did Derron, hence the reason for the war. Still, freeing Maitland was something if he could convince the man to disappear. To get away from Acton and go after Kaela.
Evan smiled as he thought about that particular woman. She had not acted the same toward him yesterday, and he wondered if his nightmare had scared her away. Part of him was relieved at that. He wouldn't have to break her heart when he finally found a way to return to Jen. It also removed another big worry from his mind. If things went sideways with this rescue mission, he wouldn't have to think about whether Kaela and Maeryn would suffer recriminations.
Now, all he had to think about was Andren. Evan gathered his clothing and headed down to the beach for his morning swim while he considered the other man. Andren wasn't the kind of person he'd imagined being his partner in this sort of mission. He was old, for lack of a better way of putting it. He trusted too easily. And he had a personal stake in the matter. Evan hadn't been told anything about Andren's treason, but he suspected Acton had threatened Kaela and Maeryn. Why would Andren send them away except to get them out of Talgrom if things went sour?
As he swam through the cold ocean water, Evan allowed his mind to sharpen. He'd not experienced this level of adrenaline or focus since waking in Talgrom's hospital, but he recognized it just the same. He was preparing for a mission. His focus narrowed, and he set aside all thoughts of Jen and finding his home. Oh, after he was finished, he'd fill the time sketching the city he'd seen. But it wouldn't hold him. His pencil would move over the page while his mind rehearsed every portion of his plan. Which, at this moment, seemed completely insane. If Acton wanted proof of his supposed loyalty to the cause, this would definitely provide it.
Once back inside, he did just that. He went over every facet of the mission, spending time pouring over the bare bones of the plot. He joined Andren in the older man's study, explaining what he needed. Then, he withdrew. He dressed as if visiting an old friend and made sure nothing in his appearance seemed out of the ordinary. But, under his clothing, he carried everything he might need. Except a weapon. He'd have to confiscate that from some unlucky guard during the "rescue." And that portion of the plan worried Evan.
Closing his eyes, he cleared his mind. He felt as if he'd done this multiple times before, and he saw himself striding through the halls of the city in his dream. He was close to remembering everything. He could feel it. But right now was not the time to think about that. Right now, he had a chance to make a difference here.
A knock sounded at his door, and he opened it to see Andren dressed similarly to him. The doctor nodded. "It's time."
~TBC