EPISODE TAGS: First Contact/The Lost Tribe

Author's Note: Lovely pandemic we're having. While I'm very fortunate in that my job falls under the essential banner, I'm not one of those who was able to ride things out while working at home. I wish I was, that way I might've been able to get more done. Between work, my husband's ever changing job status, and getting my kids through school, it's been a LOOOONG year. I hope all of you and your loved ones are doing okay. I've had this part done for a while. Wanted to add more to it, but it's just not happening right now, so I figured I might as well get this into your very deserving hands.

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Chapter 44 - Curiouser and Curiouser

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"Take her. You have to take her, John. Run."

"He is not coming."

"Take her. You have to take her, John. Run."

"He is not coming."

Teyla's voice replayed in her head. It was a strange chorus, echoes from the past of words she had yet to say. The child was quiet in her belly. The visions had ceased, yet they replayed in her mind, sharper than any dream.

David bumped Teyla's arm. Seated at her side, he shot her a canny half-smile. Their mid-morning meeting had turned into lunch, and though they had put all official matters to rest, the conversation was not what Teyla would call stimulating. Mr. Woolsey had spent a great deal of the meal discussing international trade agreements, which, today, seemed to hinge on Russia voting down joint funding on a new research project in the Milky Way galaxy, despite having been offered all the tea in China.

Teyla was almost certain he was using a figure of speech, but it all sounded strange. Apparently, the British were quite put out.

Her thoughts still far away, Teyla glanced around the room while the two men carried on. The mess hall was crowded, abuzz with the noise of varied conversations. Atlantis personnel were intermixed with several of the families taking refuge with them. Parents, tired and still somewhat ill at ease in their new surroundings, ate with care, while the children played as much as anything. As a soldier at the next table explained Taco Tuesday to a young boy ("a food so great we honor it each week"), Teyla's attention was drawn to another table. A little girl and her older brother were playing the staring game. The girl didn't last long. Her brother kept staring, though, his face jutting forward as he rubbed in his victory. The little girl stuck out her tongue. When that elicited no reaction, she thumped her brother between the eyes. He stubbornly held on. Then, she stuck her finger up his nose, and he cried out. She giggled in delight, even as her mother scolded her.

Young ones took so many things in stride. Their homeworld would not be habitable for some time, and many of their number had been taken ill with radiation sickness. Still, they smiled.

Taking the lesson, Teyla took a breath and tuned back into the conversation " … considered studying abroad at Oxford or the Sorbonne," David said. He flashed her another quick smile when he noticed her renewed attention. "It probably would've been interesting, but I wound up going down a more traditional path. I got my MBA from Berkeley, then law school at Harvard."

Mr. Woolsey wiped his mouth with a napkin. "Then, you must have met Robert Penworth."

David nodded, mostly finished eating with only a few scraps left on his plate. "Big on bow ties, as I recall."

Mr. Woolsey made a face. "Ah, yes. How could I forget? We were on Harvard Law Review together. After graduation, he worked in the D.C. Circuit Court of Appeals, but he's been tenured at Harvard now for quite a few years."

"He was my Administrative Law professor."

"I was surprised when I heard he'd taken up a teaching position. He was always set on a judgeship or possibly moving into politics."

"Well, I guess you never know where life will take you," David said. He turned his gaze to take in their surroundings, his eyes eventually meeting hers.

Teyla smiled, this time with genuine warmth. Five years ago, John Sheppard had walked into her tent, and her life had taken an unexpected turn. Into love and hardship and new challenges every day, a far cry from anything she ever could have imagined. They had all come a long way.

They still had a long way to go.

"True enough." Mr. Woolsey settled back in his chair, a more relaxed pose. "Did you ever spend much time in New York?"

"Some."

"After law school, I managed to get an associate position with Hartshorn and Slaughter."

David's expression showed subtle signs of interest. "That's a good firm."

"There used to be a restaurant on top of the Pegram Building in Midtown. The Pomme," Richard said. "Three hundred sixty degree windows, a view in every direction. After I landed my position there, my father flew in, and we—"

Before Mr. Woolsey could settle into his next story, their reminiscing was interrupted by a message on the comm channel.

Chuck's voice was on the other end. "Excuse me, Mr. Woolsey. You're needed at Command. Dr. Beckett wants a word."

"What's going on?" As an aside, Mr. Woolsey explained in a lower tone, "I've had Beckett working on an antiviral treatment in case a gate team were to run into the virus offwor—"

"It seems there was a hit in the Ancient database. We have a location where Michael may have manufactured the virus. Majors Lorne and Everett are already on their way."

Mr. Woolsey shot to his feet, apologetic about the sudden interruption. He assured them both he would contact them as soon as there was news and hurried away.

Teyla and David watched him go, a vague sense of dread creeping back into Teyla's senses.

"I wonder what they found," David said, adjusting his position slightly.

"It would be hard to guess," she replied.

A moment passed under David's careful scrutiny. "You've been quiet."

Her eyes lowered. She supposed she had.

"Thinking about John?"

"They will be reaching the Queen's Hive very soon."

"Yeah," he said shortly, eyes ducking to the table. "I don't know if John's talked to you about … I'm not even sure this is the best time to mention it, but our father left him a few properties in the will. There's a cabin in Utah and a townhouse in New York, in the city. I think John plans on selling them, but when he gets back, you should have him take you. I know you'd love the mountains and the trees. And the city is amazing."

He nodded as if agreeing with himself, his own quiet assurance that all was well. That things would be fine, and John would return soon as planned.

"I have not spent much time on Earth," Teyla said. "It would be nice to see more of it."

"You should." He lifted his gaze to hers. "The cabin is actually fairly new. I don't know what Dad had in mind when he bought it. Maybe he was thinking of taking some time for himself, skiing or something. I don't think he ever actually went. And the townhouse …" His eyes grew sad, despite his pleasant, conversational tone. His shoulders seemed to bow under an unseen weight. "Well, he bought it a year or so after Mom died. I think we all needed a change of scenery. And he was right. It was good for all of us to get some distance. But John hasn't been back since. I'm pretty sure, anyway."

Teyla touched his hand. "John does not speak of her much. I believe he finds it difficult."

David huffed a laugh, the sound of it slightly hoarse. "I'm not surprised. Losing her … It was hard on all of us, but being the youngest I guess John took it the hardest. She was sick for a long time and when she finally … Well, let's just say that none of us are very good at goodbyes."

"What was her name?"

"Hannah. Hannah Preston Sheppard. She loved music and hated green beans. She was a tyrant sometimes. Always, always needed to know where we were going, what we were going to be doing, who with and what time we were going to be back. God help us if we were late. But she was the one who kept us together. Kept Dad's feet on the ground when he got too focused on other things. Kept John from straying too far …" He suddenly stopped, mouth slightly agape, as if he couldn't physically utter another word.

Teyla's hand clasped his, her grip snug. "John will come home, David. I give you my word." Even though the voice in her mind echoed a contradiction.

"He is not coming."

"He is not coming."

"How do you know?" David asked, desperate.

Teyla looked at him, uncertain how much she could say, what he might understand, how much surety she could realistically offer.

John would be there to see his daughter born. This she knew. Her visions had shown her that, too. John would hold his child in his arms. She would hold onto that for the blessing that it was and not dwell on what she knew would come next.

"Take her. You have to take her, John. Run."

"Come," she said, getting to her feet. "Let's go for a walk."

John half crawled and was half dragged into the cell and dumped on the ground. He groaned. "That was pleasant."

Ronon crouched over him. "You don't look dead. Almost, maybe."

Ronon poked him, and John swatted him away. "However I look, it feels worse." Too many secrets to keep. Too many people to protect. He'd spent maybe an hour with the Wraith Queen, and it felt like she'd crushed his skull beneath her spiked heels. "Lucky for me, she wanted to stop for lunch. Otherwise, I'd still be in there. Seems like a bit much considering she'd just eaten before we got there, but who am I to judge, huh?"

He managed a feeble smile, then asked, "McKay come back yet?"

Frowning, Ronon shook his head.

Capshaw hovered over them, his attention divided between them and the corridor. "What did she want? Where is he?"

"Earth's location and Atlantis' ZPMs to get them there. She wants McKay to help them modify the Hive. He's probably in a lab right now."

"They already have a ZPM," Ronon said. "The one Todd brought us here to get."

John shook his head, wincing from the movement. "He never had one. He lied to us."

Capshaw traded an icy look with Ronon. "This keeps getting better and better," he muttered.

Ronon scowled.

"We're bargaining chips to offer the Queen. To seal their alliance."

"Was the Queen able to get anything?" Capshaw asked.

John sat up gingerly, rubbing the back of his neck. "A few things might have slipped out." He'd had a hell of a time keeping his mind under wraps.

Capshaw's features contorted with grave concern. "What?"

"Earth is a small world after all, and we all live in a yellow submarine?"

The marine's expression remained frozen. "Seriously?"

"I dare you to do better."

Capshaw broke his intense stare, eyes sweeping the cell before settling back on John. "So how do we get to McKay?"

"He needs to eat, needs to sleep. They'll bring him back at some point." Ronon straightened from his crouch and stood. "We should be ready to move when they do."

"Move where?" Capshaw challenged. "We don't have a plan yet, and Jennifer is still out there."

"Anything would be better than sitting in here."

John cut in before tempers flared. "We need to be patient. I'm not convinced we know everything there is to know yet, and there may be something in these ZPM modifications that we can exploit. If there is, McKay will find it."

Ronon frowned. "And what if the Queen comes for you again before we can do anything?"

John shrugged. "Then, I've got 'Funky Town' and 'The Lions Sleep Tonight', and the Queen will figure out that when I get knocked down, I get up again. She's never gonna keep me down."

Capshaw's face ticked. He almost, almost smiled. "That's awful."

"What?" Ronon asked, grumpy and confused.

"While the Queen tortures him, he's gonna be torturing her back," Capshaw explained.

"How?"

"Earworms."

"Sounds painful."

"Oh, it is." Capshaw said.

John scrubbed a hand over his face, smirking sheepishly. "They're songs. They get stuck in your head. It's annoying."

"You're joking," Ronon's face was as deadpan as Capshaw's had been earlier. "McKay was right. We are screwed."

His brows furrowed, Rodney studied the data displays emanating from the Wraith computers.

The Module Station was, in fact, the control room outside of the main hyderdrive chamber, a cavernous room, massive in scale and the primary nexus of the project's focus. The Wraith had Frankensteined a ZedPM platform, likely salvaged from a derelict Ancient outpost somewhere, into the Hive's main power grid. It was dark and the humidity was high, enough to keep a layer of fog at their feet and the Hive organic components happy. Basically, the ideal Wraith environment. Until this whole experiment literally blew up in their faces. Rodney wasn't keen on the idea of being here when that happened. The two Wraith scientists currently working there were on their own.

"I don't know what you expect me to do," he told Todd. "You've got a hundred different problems here, conservatively speaking, problems I'm not even sure can be fixed, and this is hardly the best working environment. I have no equipment, I haven't eaten in God knows how long, and my Wraith is passable at best."

Rudely, Todd's aide-de-camp, Charlie, entered the chamber at that point and returned Rodney's tablet to him. "Thank you," he said, barely. The word had to be excavated out from beneath heretofore unseen depths of annoyance.

"No, Doctor McKay," Charlie answered, devious yellow eyes flashing. "Thank you."

The Wraith officer shared a glance with Todd, then steered himself out.

"Well, that was unnecessarily creepy."

"Is there anything else you require, Doctor McKay?" Todd asked. The Wraith clearly didn't care if there was. He had already moved away, taking up position at one of the workstations.

"A team of thirty and a year to work. I'd settle for coffee and a danish."

Eyes scanning the stream of data, Todd acted like he hadn't heard. "The organic nature of the Hive creates certain incompatibilities with Ancient technology. These must be overcome before the module can be put to use."

"Look, I get it. A SuperHive. Cool idea. Might be neat. But we're talking about multiple systems here. Hyperdrive, weapons, hull regeneration, the Hive's energy absorption rates, mechanical logistics—"

"The Queen's best scientists have been working on this project for some time."

"Is that so? So far I'm not impressed." Rodney looked down his nose at the other two Wraith working in the room. "The Hive's systems are simply not equipped to channel the level of power we're talking about. Even if I manage to get the two systems communicating with each other, if every single power conduit between here and there hasn't been refitted, you'll fry your systems the second we get the ZedPM functional."

When Todd didn't bat an eye at what he'd said or even turn to look his way, Rodney said, "And why do I get the feeling you couldn't care less?"

Slowly, Todd turned and stared at him, the barest hint of a smile forming on pale lips. On Todd's data screen, a duplicate set of characters appeared. They flashed alongside the original stream, a program activated as Todd grinned, showing teeth.

"The idea has merit. I thought so when I was informed of this Hive's interest some time ago. Many of the required system modifications are already well under way."

Of course, they were. The Wraith weren't completely incompetent. They had to be in the process of beefing up every conduit between here and the target systems to handle a massive increase in power flow. He'd already seen evidence of it. Over a dozen large, metal towers had been constructed in and out of the main hyderdrive chamber, equidistant from each other and placed at strategic points, circling the chamber and the Module Station itself.

"These are arcing towers, aren't they? In the event of an overload, the extraneous power arcs between the towers, using the air as a conductive medium, thereby protecting the Hive's inner circuitry from getting completely destroyed. There's probably even a failsafe in place to trigger a shutdown to the ZedPM, if that were to happen."

Todd tipped his head in a slight nod. "Very good, Doctor McKay, though I would not wish to be present in the case of such an occurrence."

"Of course not. This is the last place you'd want to be."

Todd nodded again, catching and holding Rodney's gaze. "Indeed. A pity the Queen is not currently in possession of a module."

For a moment, Rodney was still, completely at a loss. "What do you mean? A pity we won't get fried to a crisp? The modifications aren't finished. They're not even close. No ZedPM is the best case scenario right now."

"The Queen may be young and … impulsive," Todd said a clear note of disdain, "but she is cunning. It is only a matter of time before a Zero Point Module will be acquired."

Rodney shook his head. "Uh uh. No way. If you think Sheppard is going to tell the Queen anything, you're sadly mistaken. He won't give up Atlantis. Not in a million—"

A thought occurred, and all of a sudden Rodney couldn't think of what he'd meant to say. Over Todd's shoulder, two sets of data flowed alongside each other. Arcing towers encircled him. There were strange Wraith within spitting distance. A head tilt. Todd's strange cat eyes held his in a pointed stare.

What are you up to? Rodney's facial expression changed to reflect his inner query.

Was Todd trying to tell him something? Did he want the Queen's Hive destroyed? Rodney failed to see how he'd be able to overload the Hive's systems without a ZedPM. And even if one magically appeared—as it seemed Todd was suggesting it might—how was he supposed to pull that off without winding up good and dead?

"For Pete's sake," he muttered to himself. "Fine."

Shaking his head and swearing bitterly under his breath, Rodney made for the nearest workstation, plugged in his tablet, and looked for an opening to connect to the Wraith systems. First, he needed to find a bypass through the damaged components in the Ancient platform. Next, he needed to actually solve the problem he'd been sent here to solve and get the Hive and the ZedPM platform communicating. Then, if they were going for an overload, he had to figure out a way to shut off the failsafe without Beavis and Butthead noticing.

"If I recall correctly, Doctor McKay," Todd's voice cut through the current of Rodney's racing thoughts, "you work best under pressure. It is imperative you work quickly. You may not have as much time as you think."

"No coffee, no danish," Rodney said. "Threats on my life, it is."