This was not at all how Estie had imagined meeting the Lanteans would go. She hadn't known exactly what reaction to expect from the Steward of Administration, but she had hoped... Well, it didn't matter what she had hoped. She had to deal with the reality of the situation, which was fear and distrust. On both sides, apparently.
It made sense that the Lanteans, too, would be cautious. Thousands of years had passed and Tal'we had been in isolation for so long, there would be no reason for them to remember her people. Especially since they claimed to only be descendants of the Lanteans of legend. Given Ardlone's response to their presence, their unease was justified. She saw the unspoken preparations passing between them, the way their hands hovered over their weapons as if they expected to need them at any moment.
Her unease grew as she followed Ardlone down the long passage, and she began second-guessing the decision to bring the Lanteans here. She hadn't even considered whether it was safe, had been too caught up in her excitement upon meeting them to give their weapons much thought. What if they weren't like their ancestors? What if her people refused to accept them, pushed them into defending themselves? There were too many scenarios where this could go wrong.
It was too late to change the situation now. She could only hope that once they stood before the Administration, everything would resolve itself. The Lanteans seemed sincere in their offer to help, and she believed the Administration had her people's best interests at heart. Surely they wouldn't be so proud as to deny the truth if it meant saving Ola'we.
She bit her lip, praying that this wouldn't fall apart.
The nervous Steward ushered them into a large chamber at the end of the hall, looking behind them to ensure no one was following before quickly pulling the door closed. "Over here," he ordered, shooing them in the direction of an oversized table in the center of the cavernous space.
Memories rushed back to Estie of the last time she'd been here, almost four years ago now, to petition on behalf of her late grandfather. The chamber hadn't changed other than the banners that hung along the back wall were now orange for spring harvest. The same black obsidian table loomed in the center of the space, reflecting the painting on the high ceiling. Black pearls and dark corals decorated the wall panels, contrasted starkly by white shell trim. A massive chandelier hung from the peak of the dome above, orbited by bioluminescent plankton following metal rings tilted in every direction. It was beautiful. Inspiring.
Intimidating.
Ardlone sat the guests down along one of the shorter sides of the long, rectangular table before scurrying off to the far side of the room. His footsteps echoed against the smooth stone floor in the quiet space. Estie did her best not to fidget as she watched him go, looking instead at the Lanteans to distract herself. She wasn't surprised to find them all gazing around the room in wonder, studying the delicate designs of pearls in the walls, squinting up at the paintings on the ceiling. Probably trying to guess what they depicted.
The one called Doctor Parrish was the first to break the silence. "This place is incredible." His voice carried a reverent quality. "How was it built?"
Estie assumed the Lanteans' knowledge of science was probably sophisticated enough to understand the processes that created and maintained Ola'we, but she had never excelled at the biological sciences. Even if she tried to describe the simplest concepts, it would take time. "We grow the structures using... specialized technology... left to us by our ancestors." She winced at her terrible explanation. "I apologize, I am not an expert in city growing. It is very complex. I will have you meet with some of our growers to explain the process."
Parrish's eyes were wide with excitement, and he looked like he wanted to ask more questions, but the tall doors on the far side of the room opened at that moment, quieting him.
Grand Administrator Tokon led the processession into the room. There were five Administrators in all: Tokon, Jethro, Redeya, Matthias, and Jushi. Each wore a different color robe to represent the faction they oversaw. Tokon in deep violet represented Justice, Jethro in maroon for the Guard, Redeya in Navy for the Sciences, Matthias in green for Agriculture, and Jushi in yellow for the People. They took their seats silently on the opposite side of the table, far enough away that it was hard to see their faces in the dim light. But Estie could see that they were not pleased. Ardlone trailed behind them, nervously posting himself next to the doorway they had entered.
"Estie." Tokon's baritone echoed through the quiet chamber.
She fought to keep her voice from wavering in her reply. "Grand Administrator Tokon."
"I believe you were told not to return here, and yet here you are. And you have brought..." He looked down his nose at the Lanteans. "Guests."
She swallowed the fear in her throat and forced herself to speak with confidence. "Grand Administrator, I have brought the descendants of the Ancients. They came through the Stargate, just as—"
Tokon cut her off with a raised hand. "Where did you find these?"
She shared a nervous glance with Zeb. The course of events was already in motion; there was no turning back from it now. "They were on the surface. On Rijin, Administrator."
The five looked at each other wordlessly, but their body language said it all. Redeya was the next to speak. "Estie, you bring shame on Ola'we. You know our laws."
"Yes, but—" she started, but this time was interrupted by Major Lorne.
"Ma'am, if I may," he said. "We're peaceful explorers. We mean you no harm. We are only interested in trading resources and knowledge."
Again, the Administrators turned to one another, this time whispering amongst themselves in angry hisses that carried across the room like waves. Jethro turned back towards them. "Who are you? Where do you come from?"
"My name is Major Lorne. My people and I came through the Stargate from Atlantis."
Outraged gasps. "This is blasphemy!" Matthias spat as the others grumbled to each other. "Atlantis is a child's myth! The Stargate does not exist!"
Estie saw Major Lorne look toward his men, who were growing increasingly uncomfortable. She could see it in their posture, they were ready to fight their way out of here if needed. "Grand Administrator, please!" she said, desperately trying to steer the conversation toward understanding. "You must see, they are evidence that the myths are true, just as my grandfather said."
Tokon waved a hand at her dismissively, as if he was disgusted. "I do not know who these men are, but they must leave Ola'we immediately. You have put us all in danger by bringing them here, Estie."
"But, if the Stargate exists that means—"
"Leave now, and we will allow you to go peacefully," Tokon continued over her, addressing Major Lorne. "As long as you promise never to return to our city."
"All right," Major Lorne said, standing. "We can take a hint. Thanks for your time." The others stood as well.
Doctor Parrish looked at him with a horrified expression. "But, Major—"
"You heard the man, Parrish." Major Lorne jerked his head toward the door. "Let's hit the road."
Estie grasped for a way to change the Administrator's minds, but they, too, were getting up to disembark the room, their expressions hard. "Administrator Jushi," she pleaded, looking toward the woman. If any were to be sympathetic toward her, it would be the woman who oversaw the concerns and wishes of the people of Ola'we. "You must listen. You cannot deny…"
She trailed off. Jushi's gaze was filled with pity, and possibly something else. Shame? She averted her eyes quickly.
"We will deal with you and your assistant later, Estie," Tokon said. "Go and gather your research, that which you brought with you the last time, and return to us. We will speak of your punishment then."
Estie watched helplessly as the two groups moved away from each other, content to pretend the meeting had never happened. But it had happened, and it changed everything. There was hope yet for Ola'we. How could the Administration turn their backs on that?
"Estie," Zeb said quietly as she made to follow the Lanteans from the chamber, "I am sorry. You did everything you could."
All that she could, and it was still not enough. She'd been given more than she could have ever hoped for, living proof of everything her grandfather and great-grandfather and all those before them had given their reputations for, and still she had failed. Angry tears pricked the backs of her eyes.
This wasn't an opportunity she could leave to fate. Her people's future depended on her now. "No," she told Zeb, setting her jaw in determination. "I did not do everything. Not yet."
Apparently, the Administration didn't see the Lanteans as much of a threat, regardless of the claim that they were dangerous, because they only sent two guards to escort them back to the puddle jumper. Evan got the impression that they weren't used to people disobeying their directives, and probably assumed they would leave as ordered. Either that, or the guns the guards were carrying were more powerful than they looked, and they weren't concerned simply because they knew they would easily win in a fight. Not much of a stretch given the level of technology they seemed to have.
Whatever the case, Evan wasn't interested in digging into it. As fascinating as this city and these people were, his first priority was to get his people home safely. And if that meant they had to leave now without any hope of ever returning, so be it. Better that than start trouble with these people.
He agreed with Parrish, though. It was a shame that the Administration was so unwilling to talk to them. As they walked along the path back toward the jumper, he looked out at the ocean around them, held back by a mere bubble, and thought how cool this place really was. The technology rivaled that of the Ancients, if not surpassed it, and given that they didn't even believe in the Stargate, he was sure they'd managed to avoid the Wraith all these years. They would certainly be a beneficial ally. He wished for a fleeting moment that he'd tried a little harder to get them to at least talk to him, but it was probably for the best that they were leaving. When people threw around words like "blasphemy," it was usually better not to get involved.
He glanced at the stone faced guards, holding their weapons stiffly, like they were extremely uncomfortable with this entire situation. What was it with all the fear? Estie and her assistant seemed genuinely excited by their presence, but everyone else was acting like they were time bombs that could go off at any second, that they had to get them out as quickly as possible before they blew up half the city. He had gotten a major vibe off the Administrators that there was something else going on, some reason that they were so terrified to see proof that the Lanteans weren't just a myth. But, again, he wasn't going to dig into it.
Estie fell into step beside him, her face a cloud of disappointment and frustration. "I am sorry, Major Lorne," she said quietly. "I had hoped that the Administration would be willing to see the truth, but they are... stuck in their ways."
He gave her a half smile, keeping an eye on the guards. "That's okay, it happens. Maybe after they've had a chance to think about it, we can try to meet again."
She let out a long sigh and furrowed her brow. "I am afraid they will not be swayed. They cling to their traditions as if they are our salvation. Our people have lived beneath the sea for so long that we forget there is an entire universe beyond us."
"Well, it's not all sunshine and rainbows out there," Evan pointed out. "The universe is a dangerous place; maybe they have their reasons for hiding from it."
This made Estie smile bitterly. "And do your people hide away, Major Lorne?"
He made a face, trying to decide how best to answer. "Our situation was a little different. We weren't really given much of a choice."
"There is always a choice," she said. "You can choose to do something, or you can choose to do nothing. But you cannot make progress without taking risks. I am sure you understand this, as an explorer of new worlds. There will always be danger in the unknown, but it is worth the risk if it leads to a better life, is it not?"
"What I personally believe doesn't matter," he told her, and it didn't. That was one thing that had become very clear to him during his time traveling around to different worlds. "It's not my place to tell your people what to think. If they want to pretend we don't exist, then that's their choice."
Estie's response came out sharply. "It should not be up to them."
He wasn't sure how to respond to that, so he let the conversation drop. He understood her frustration, but there wasn't anything they could do about it. They'd learned through many incidents throughout the years that meddling with other cultures that didn't want to be meddled with never turned out well. It wasn't their job to impose their beliefs and morals on others, no matter how much they may disagree. Particularly with a race like this, who not only seemed to be doing just fine on their own, but also had a distinct advantage over them at the moment.
Perhaps he should have said something, though, because as soon as they reached the place the ships were parked, Estie pulled some kind of device out of her pocket, holding it up threateningly as it lit up and began to hum.
"Do not move," she told the guards as they whipped around to aim their weapons at her.
Evan and his men had reacted instinctively as well, raising their guns, though none of them had any idea what exactly the threat was. But Evan guessed based on how she was holding the object and how the guards had reacted that it was probably some kind of bomb.
"Major Lorne," she said, her voice shaking slightly. "Tell your men to lower their weapons."
"Why?" Evan kept his gun trained on Estie. "What is that?"
She smiled tightly, an apology in her eyes. This was a move of desperation. "It is a shield disruptor," she explained, gesturing with the object toward the bubble holding back the seawater. "A powerful one. It will dissolve the shielding to this bay and a large portion of the surrounding city." She swallowed and her face hardened resolutely. "Many would die."
He sighed internally, figuring as much. Why did things never go according to plan?
"Lower your weapons!" she repeated with more force. "All of you!"
The guards lowered theirs first, and Evan reluctantly followed suit, the rest of his team mirroring him.
"Estie," one of the guards pleaded. "See reason."
"No!" she shouted, her ice blue eyes sharp with anger. "You will not see reason, why should I?" She waved at her assistant. "Zeb, collect their weapons."
Zeb looked as surprised and horrified as the guards. When he didn't immediately comply, Estie waved toward him emphatically. "Zeb, the weapons. Now."
He seemed to internally debate what to do for a moment before snapping into action, collecting the guards' weapons as Estie had asked. He handed one to Estie and held the other awkwardly in visibly trembling hands.
"What do you want?" Evan asked, afraid he might already know the answer.
"I want you to come with me, Major Lorne," Estie said, training her gun on him. "Just you. The rest of your people may go."
Well, at least she didn't want all of them. He considered if there might be other options, but agreeing with her demands was likely the best way to get the rest of his team out of here in one piece, and they would come back for him soon enough. Ishihara wasn't a great pilot, but everyone in Atlantis with the ATA gene had been given basic lessons in how to operate the puddle jumpers, so he should be able to get them in range of the Stargate where the autopilot would take over anyway. And Evan didn't think Estie had any intention of harming him; she was simply a fanatic who wanted to prove her life's work had meaning. He could deal with that.
Kennel gave him a look that said he knew exactly what Evan was thinking and didn't like it one bit. Evan shot one back that dared him to come up with something better.
"What do you want me for?" he said, stalling in case Kennel actually did come up with something.
"You have the power of the Lanteans. I need you to help me find their lost temple," she said. "Once we find it, you will be free to go."
Great, so once again he was being targeted for his ATA gene. Why did it always have to be about the damn gene? He wasn't even that strong of a carrier. Glancing at Kennel again, he answered. "Fine. But you let the rest of my people go."
Kennel scowled, taking a step forward. "Take me, too."
"No, Lieutenant," Evan said firmly, hoping the use of the man's rank would signal that he was to follow orders. "You get the scientists home."
"Sir," Kennel responded in a tone that said he wasn't arguing about this. "With all due respect, I'd like to stay with you. Jones and St. Clair can get the scientists home."
"He can come with us if he wishes," Estie said impatiently.
Evan glared at Kennel, who glared defiantly back. They were going to have a long chat about chain of command later, but for now, he was probably right. It would be useful to have someone as backup. "Fine," he agreed begrudgingly. "Jones and St. Clair, take Parrish and Ishihara back to Atlantis and apprise them of the situation."
"Sir..." Jones started to argue, but Evan cut him off with a sharp look. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Kennel give a slight nod, and Jones backed down reluctantly. "Yes, sir." Did no one listen to him anymore?
"Give them your weapons," Estie ordered, motioning with the gun toward the two sergeants. "And your communication devices."
Evan and Kennel handed over their obvious weapons—P-90s, sidearms, belt knives—as well as their earpieces and handheld radios to their teammates under Estie and Zeb's watchful eyes. They seemed satisfied with this, so Evan didn't mention anything about the other knife and block of C-4 he had stashed on his person, nor the hidden weapons he knew Kennel was carrying.
The rest of the team didn't look happy as they loaded into the puddle jumper, but there were no more arguments about it. They knew they would return with back up soon enough. Once they were in the jumper, Estie and Zeb led their captives at gunpoint to the tiny ship they had come in. It was small, but there were four seats inside. Estie held her shield disruptor high until they had settled in the small craft and the guards had left the platform. Once they were in, she closed the hatch and turned the device off, putting it back into her jacket pocket. The bubble began to fill with water again.
They'd put Evan up front next to Estie while Zeb sat in the back, keeping his gun trained on Kennel. The Lieutenant's expression was hard to read, but Evan guessed it was somewhere between enraged at the situation and relieved that at least he was along for the ride this time. Evan was just plain pissed.
Estie started up the ship and began the ascent off the platform, but didn't head back the way they'd come as Evan expected she would. Instead, she took off into the dark ocean underneath the glacier. As she flew, she glanced at Evan with an apologetic look. "I will not harm you, Major Lorne," she promised. "I hope that we can still be friends."
"Friends don't hold friends at gunpoint," Evan said sourly.
Estie pursed her lips and was quiet for a minute. "We must all make choices, Major. Mine is to help my people. You must understand that."
He wanted to respond that, no, he didn't understand because instead of asking for help, explaining why she needed it so badly, she'd gone and taken him hostage—putting not only himself in danger, but his team as well. But he bit his tongue, deciding it wasn't worth antagonizing her. His energy would be better used coming up with a plan to get himself and Kennel out of here before this planet decided to throw them any more curveballs.
Okay, so now the story should pick up some more traction. Let me know what you think in the comments!