13

The Ninth Chevron Address

"Any traffic in the area?" Lorne asked as he ascended the puddle jumper from the hanger bay, waiting for the roof to retract above him.

Walter leaned forward over the instruments down in the Cheyenne Mountain Complex. Lorne's request to check out flight traffic around Atlantis was a little unusual but not unwelcomed. The Pentagon had restricted the airspace around the cloaked city but outside that guarded zone the air was practically bustling with activity. Most of the designated flight levels were usually occupied as Atlantis lay close to San Francisco International Airport.

"Walter?" Lorne called patiently as he had his hand poised over the yoke. "I don't want to run into any 747's."

"I am transmitting flight data, commercial inbound traffic and weather to you as we speak," he assured him quickly.

Lorne watched the data tablet attached to the instrument board before him. The Alteran system, which operated the Puddle Jumper, wasn't up to interfacing with Earth's flight data, that's why he had that set up separately. It was actually quite a challenge to use the two systems simultaneously but he preferred that configuration as it gave him the opportunity to fly the jumpers on Earth. It was either this or not at all. The Atlantis' jumpers were using the Pegasus network system and didn't connect with the Milky Way system unless modified – or used within a sequence of gate travel, such as the Carter-McKay intergalactic gateway – so he had no way of dialing out from the jumper itself. It was another reminder of the fact that Atlantis didn't belong on Earth.

"I – ah – I take it you've heard?" the Sergeant said out of the blue.

"Heard what?" Evan asked curiously as he readied the jumper for flight.

"We've lost the Icarus base," the sergeant said morosely.

Lorne hung his head and sighed. "Damn," he muttered under his breath. "Look, is the General there?"

"He's in his office, probably bad-tempered," the gate technician cautioned.

"Tell him, he's about to have a visitor. I might as well do a proper test flight with this one. I'll be coming in cloaked in thirty minutes or so," he explained. "Tell the guys to leave a parking lot for me."

"Will do, Colonel," Walter replied.

True to his word, Lieutenant Colonel Lorne knocked on the doorframe to General Landry's office thirty-five minutes later.

"You're lucky I was already pissed, otherwise I'd be more upset with you for making headway through dense air traffic with that thing," Landry pointed out.

"With all due respect, General, the last time I checked I still had a pilot's license and the jumper is capable of a lot of things a normal airplane cannot do," he offered kindly, with his usual calm voice.

A moment of silence past between the two men.

Lorne sighed as he looked down at the floor, hands on his hips. "I just wish there was something we could have done, that's all," he said solemnly.

"We all know what state Atlantis is in, son," General Landry said as he softened. "And we're fighting for her every day. She would have been a great asset in the current quarrel with that damn Lucian Alliance too."

"It's not right, sir. To have the Lantean city floating around the bay. It's handled backwards," Lorne watched the General closely as he didn't know how much he could push the man. "It's hard to sit here and do nothing when Askula needs our help, sir."

Landry reached up with his hand to rub at his forehead. "I can't fix that at the moment but I can authorize the mission you, Colonel Carter and Doctor Jackson wanted to embark on a little over a year ago," he offered.

Lorne frowned. "Why now, sir?"

"Daedalus is returning from her recent supply run in a day or two. She can be resupplied and ready to ship out within a few days. We need to reconnoiter in Pegasus anyway, it's been too long now. Since we lost the Icarus base, I'm arguing your case. If Doctor Jackson is right and there is a Lantean facility on the planet, then I think time has come to uncover it," he reasoned. "Who knows, there might be something there that can shed some more light onto the intricate process of manufacturing the drones."

"Why not send the George Hammond, sir?" he asked quizzically.

"The ship is overdue for a few upgrades. Might as well get them done when Colonel Carter is gone."

"Thank you, sir," Lorne said appreciatively then hesitated for a moment. "Would it be okay if I added a few members to the team?"

"Considering you are literally going in blind?" Landry replied. "Take as many as you like."

OOOOOO

Two years, nine months and four days after the second homecoming.

Colonel Mitchell peppered the Wraith with led. "Die you bastard," he said angrily as he watched it crash to the ground next to Colonel Lorne.

Lieutenant Niva emptied her magazine into the horrendous creature standing over Colonel Carter. Still a bit nervous and itchy as it was her first encounter with the Wraith, she clipped another magazine to her P90 and didn't stop firing until she'd run out of it.

"Wow, lieutenant," Mitchell cautioned. "I think they're dead."

The lieutenant jumped as a hand began to move next to her foot and this time Mitchell placed a well-aimed shot with his 9-mil pistol straight through the green-tinged palm.

"Cute," Niva remarked dryly.

"Not up close," Lorne whispered.

Cam glanced around the immediate area and then nodded at the junior officer. "Go, lieutenant. Head to the jumper and contact our people. Get us back to Daedalus."

She took off without a word.

"Evan, Sam? Are you alright?" Cam asked worriedly.

Colonel Carter rolled onto her stomach and began to push herself up. "They throw such punches," she whispered through gritted teeth.

"She won't find it," Colonel Lorne wheezed in a subdued voice. "I need to decloak the jumper. Help me up."

Cam made a face, hesitating for a second. Evan looked like death warmed over. He was pale, his eyes slightly glazed over, his uniform was torn and the skin visible through the rip of the fabric was smeared with blood. "Are you sure that's a good idea?" he asked.

Sam grimaced as she made her way over and gently began to haul the former member of the Atlantis Expedition up. Cam wasted no time and began to help her immediately. Together they managed to pull Lorne onto his feet.

"Sir," Lieutenant Niva hollered as she was on her way back, having discovered she couldn't get inside the flying machine.

Luckily Lorne was lucid enough to use the mental component required to bring the jumper back into the visible spectrum.

The young Lieutenant's mouth dropped open in awe for a second. "If I'd known the Atlantis Expedition was that much cooler, I would have requested a trip to Pegasus a long time ago," she said and disappeared into the rear.

Several slow agonizing steps toward the jumper later, Lorne was finally settled onto the bench in the back. He collapsed onto the hard surface and, knowing they'd all be safe soon, he allowed himself to drift out of consciousness.

"Carter to Daedalus," she said gravely as she reached out to put two fingers on Lorne's clammy throat. "Beam Colonel Lorne to the infirmary immediately."

The response was immediate as Evan disappeared in a beam of light.

"Colonel Carter, this is Colonel Caldwell. What the hell is going on down there?" he demanded.

Taking pity, seeing his colleague grimace in pain as she leaned back against the wall, Cam spoke up. "Colonel Mitchell here, sir. It seems we ran into an old nemesis of Atlantis," he replied sarcastically.

"Are the rest of you alright?" Caldwell asked.

"No, I am afraid not," Sam answered. Daniel and Sergeant Thompson are locked inside the bunker. We have casualties and we're out of a pilot capable of using a jumper."

"I have two teams on stand-by, I am beaming them down to your location now," Caldwell said and nodded at Marks who executed the order.

"Is the hive still there?" Mitchell asked curiously.

Back on Daedalus, Caldwell huffed as he glared through the viewscreen, watching the old enemy vessel at a distance as it recalled the last of its darts. "It's about to make a run for it."

Sam and Cam shared a curious look.

"It's not like the Wraith to run," Sam said thoughtfully. "Unless they have something to hide."

"I don't understand. We haven't seen them anywhere during our earlier supply runs," Colonel Caldwell informed with a frown. "We wrongly assumed they'd retreated somewhere – those who remained – when we'd defeated them back home. The Athosians didn't mention any Wraith activity either."

"They are gathering their forces," Mitchell replied darkly. "They are obviously up to something."

"They will come back, Steven," Sam reasoned. "Somehow they found this secret ancient outpost and - knowing what is here - they won't stop at anything to get their hands on it."

"I am sorry, communications were breaking up earlier. We got the message that you'd found some sort of research station deep under the island," Caldwell said.

"It's a ZPM factory," she explained seriously.

The line went silent for a moment.

"How many have you found?" Caldwell finally managed.

"Four fully charged," she replied. "There are others in the making but not completed. Look, if the Wraith get their hands on this kind of ancient Lantean technology-," she trailed off. There was no need to finish the sentence – everyone knew what was at stake.

"Sir, we have no choice – we have to destroy the factory – we can't protect it," Sam spoke up again. "We have weeks of travel before we're back on Earth. We need to jump to hyperspace and find the nearest gate within range to send a communiqué to the SGC and alert them of our findings."

"What about the natives?" Cam asked. "We can't just leave them here, unprotected, when the Wraith decides to show up again."

"We'll work something out," Caldwell assured them over the open line.

OOOOOO

To be continued

AN: Okay, so now we've gone full circle and ended up at the beginning of this story. The next chapter will take it from there.