— Thor's Slayers —
Chapter Three
Gifts, Explanations, and Cthulhu
Author's Note: There is a technical error regarding Illyria's experience in her capture by the Wraith. I wrote that Illyria and the others were taken by the Wraith Darts and later deposited onto the Hive ship. I wasn't aware that the Wraith Darts' culling beams actually dematerialize people and keep them in that state until they deposit them onto the Hive ship at a later time. Not sure if I'll bother fixing it, but just thought I'd give an acknowledge that mistake.
#
December 14th, 2005
"Doctor Beckett, how are they doing?" Doctor Weir asked the expedition's Scottish Chief Medical Officer in their newly established infirmary.
The rescue mission had been an undeniable success; all of the expedition's missing personnel, along with many of the missing Athosians, had been recovered from the Wraith while sustaining only minor injuries in the process. Those minor injuries had ranged from sprained ankles and shrapnel wounds to the two Marines who'd been shot by the Wraith. Beckett and his small medical staff had been quick to triage and treat the wounded, displaying a level of competency which convinced the ever suspicious Athosians to allow for their kin to be treated by the strangers. Now, only a small knot of clustered personnel remained, hovering around the two incapacitated Marines.
Dr. Beckett glanced at the two men who lay unconscious, each hooked to an IV and wearing a fingertip pulse monitor on separate wheeled beds. "From what I've discerned about their physical status, they should be fine. Whatever weapon was used was clearly meant to stun rather than kill as it appears the blast specifically overloaded their sensory and nervous systems, the result of which has left them in this state. While I can't say for certain, based on their steadily improving vitals I'd wager that both Colonel Sumner and Sergeant Bates will return to full consciousness within the next few hours. I won't be able to give you a more precise estimate on when they'll be fully recovered until I can evaluate them upon their awaking."
Those in attendance within the infirmary sighed in relief.
Major Sheppard ran a hand through his hair, brow furrowed as he asked, "why would they be stunning us even when we're trying to blow them away?"
"I'm afraid the answer to that isn't real pretty," the Southern accented voice of Fred Burkle replied. "These Wraith, well let's just say that they're a little higher up on the food chain than we are."
"I'm sorry, what exactly do you mean?" Weir asked with crossed arms, clearly unenthused about the girl's answer and its implications.
"They're vampires," Miss Burkle said in an almost alarmingly cheerful voice as she turned her head to meet the eyes of her two friends.
Weir noticed Faith and Buffy glancing towards one another with a strange but obviously meaningful expression. Weir eyed them unobtrusively for another moment and was pretty sure that Faith had mouthed, "I get to tell Jack 'I told you so'" to her blonde counterpart.
Lieutenant Ford guffawed, "vampires?"
"Well," Burkle conceded, "perhaps not soulless creatures of the night that feast on your blood, but they feed on humans in way that, well...vampires."
A memory of the man named Whistler telling her that Winifred Burkle was dead and of the monsters living on Earth rose to the surface of her thoughts. The description of Winifred Burkle's, or whatever she was, did not bode well for her ability to sleep later that night. She shook her head as if to clear it and turned her attention back to the conversation.
"Um, so do they have fangs?" Sergeant Stackhouse asked, looking both increasingly confused and alarmed.
"Just like any predator, they do have pretty sharp teeth, but no, that's not what I meant." The group watched as Fred strolled to the table Beckett had been using to study the Wraith arm that Sheppard had recovered from Athos. Instead of indicating for them to join her, she simply picked it up and returned to them, making several observers edge away from her and the lifeless, inhuman limb she now carried. Fred held the hand out, palm up, and pointed toward...something.
"Um...nice hand?" Ford asked.
Dr. Beckett, who had nearly protested at her manhandling of the specimen, paused and looked closely at the area the Texan was pointing at. He slowly nodded and appeared to be following the physicist's thought process. "I did notice that upon my examination, but I couldn't determine what it was precisely. If I'm understand correctly, this would be some gland or mechanism used to...feed?"
"That's sure what it looked like, but I'll have to leave that sort of doctorin' to you, Dr. Beckett, anatomy and biology isn't really my field." Fred's smile was positively dazzling in its intensity, making the Scottish man blink and flush slightly. Burkle then gained a worried countenance as she continued to relay her discoveries. "There was a man, Teyla called him Toran I think, who was taken before me and when I was taken, well... I found his remains, such as they were. I don't know what the Wraith do or how they do it, but that man had...withered."
"What do you mean?" Ford asked.
"The...corpse wore the same clothes as Toran, but his body was aged, a husk, as if they had sucked the life right out of him," Fred replied with a shudder.
There was a moment of silence as everyone tried to grapple with that revelation.
"So..." Faith said slowly, "space vampires?"
"Space vampires," Ford muttered in disbelief before he shrugged, "meh. Crazier things have happened to the SG teams."
Weir noticed that Sheppard had been watching Fred with narrowed eyes since she'd began speaking, but had said little during her presentation after his first question. He looked uneasy and had kept his hand by his holster, discretely, as the Texan had described her experience. Something happened on that ship, something important that Burkle wasn't saying that had Sheppard on edge, Weir deduced. Whatever it was, it seemed to have shaken the normally stalwart and sarcastic Air Force officer.
The group spent the next few minutes discussing what they'd learned, trying to tie in this new information with the history the 'Lantean' hologram had shared with them when they had first arrived in Atlantis. When it became apparent that they were beginning to talk in circles, Dr. Weir signaled the group to quiet down. "Maj. Sheppard, I expect you and Col. Sumner, assuming that he's fully recovered, to be in my office at 10:30 for a debriefing. I'll pencil the rest of the mission personnel in shortly after that. But right now, we all have some other business to attend to."
"And what's that, Dr. Weir?" Dr. Beckett asked curiously, hands shoved into the pockets of his white lab coat.
"A successful rescue mission as well as the continued existence of this city warrants a celebration, I think," Weir said with a smile. "You managed to bring everyone home alive, Major, and we just happen to have a bottle of champagne, courtesy of General O'Neill."
"Sounds like a fine idea," Fred agreed enthusiastically as several others, mostly the military personnel, cheered.
"Besides," Weir added, "I have it on good authority that it's somebody's birthday today, and we have just a few more hours to celebrate it on the right day."
"Who's the lucky lad or lass?" Beckett asked with a wide smile.
"Faith Lehane. Though I'm aware she had a private celebration this morning," Weir said, ignoring Peter's sudden choking fit, "I'm sure she'd be alright for a more public venue."
Faith grinned, at the unabashed reference to their awkward encounter that morning and at the prospect of a party. The young brunette gave the woman a thumbs up. "Wicked."
"Also as some of you might recall, the champagne was one of two items tossed through the Stargate before it closed," Weir said, smiling at Faith, "birthday presents from Gen. O'Neill, SG-1 and SG-10. Faith, meet me in the Gate room in ten, and I'll make sure you get them."
Faith did a fist pump and led Buffy out of the room, but only after shaking hands and receiving pats on the back from numerous well-wishers. The others gradually left the room as well, seeking out the area Weir had designated for the celebration between the expedition and their Athosian guests.
Faith unwrapped and opened the box under the curious gazes of Buffy, Dr. Weir, McKay, and Peter, the latter two having come back to the C&C to continue their examination of the various whatchamacallits. The two had paused at seeing the wrapped package Weir had handed to Faith and decided to see what had been dropped through the Stargate for Faith. The box itself had been maybe four feet long, ten or so inches in width and six inches in height, so it hadn't been especially awkward for Weir to carry, even if it was a slightly heavier than expected.
On top of the package had been a simple note that wished Faith a happy birthday signed with Jack's distinctive signature. Upon opening the gift, she discovered that the box contained several smaller wrapped packages on top of a single larger box at the bottom. She took out the first one, a thick envelope sized package, and unwrapped it.
Inside were two framed photographs. One was her and SG-1 standing in front of the giraffe enclosure at the Cheyenne Mountain Zoo. It had been taken by a friendly passerby maybe a month after she'd been dropped into Stargate Command and the whole team was there, sans Teal'c's hair. More captivating was the face Jack was making as the giraffe closest to them ran its long, prehensile, blue tongue up his cheek while his back was turned for the picture. She snorted at the sight and smiled, remembering Jack's insistence that they accompany her in her first visit to a zoo and the fun filled afternoon that had ensued. Faith passed the picture to the others, letting them see, and examined the second one.
The second one was of her and SG-10, fully decked out in Air Force BDUs, tactical vests, the whole nine yards. SG-10 had taken over much of her unofficial training shortly after they'd been rescued, having been given time to salvage their lives after their five year disappearing act, and they'd taken to helping their new mascot with gusto. It was far more recent than the first picture, taken not too long before Jack O'Neill had been put into stasis in Antarctica. It was a picture of them just after she'd met the firearms proficiency and physical performance requirements necessary to join the Stargate program. Had she been a member of the armed forces, she'd also have earned the designation of expert marksman in the process.
It wasn't as if the outcome had been unexpected, but it still represented a milestone in her life as she continued to make her own path in making her own destiny? fulfillment? happiness? whatever. The whole team had dressed up in support, Jessica's idea no doubt, in a show of solidarity for their 'civvie mascot'. Faith had been smiling in the picture, smiling widely and so genuinely that she smiled even now remembering the sense of comradery she'd felt with SG-10 on that day.
Fulfilling the qualifications had required wearing the gear throughout the tests, but Jack had convinced Hammond that allowing her to keep the equipment permanently was an investment for when she had to "save our keesters from evil and/or assholes in the future." With her being the Slayer, the scenario wasn't exactly implausible; Hammond had given in with only a perfunctory objection. That gear was now safely stowed away in her room on Atlantis and she expected to use it at some point to prove Jack right. Faith passed the picture on, Buffy eagerly taking it to examine for herself.
Faith raised an eyebrow at a very small, very light package about the the size and weight of a matchbook. She opened it carefully and noticed a small slip of paper over an equally small plastic bag. The bag contained what looked like...seeds? The slip of paper that taped over the baggie had "DAISIES FOR THE SMURF" written in blue sharpie. Man that geezer is just asking for a world of pain, she thought with an inward chuckle and debated the merits of actually giving Illyria the gift. Rather than pass it around, she simply showed it to Buffy, who snorted in amusement.
Faith put the seeds into her pocket, ignoring the others' curious looks. "It's a gag gift for Fred," she explained simply.
She then dug her fingers in to take out the bottom gift. It had a little more weight to it and Faith's heart beat faster imagining the possibilities. While Sam and Daniel were always thoughtful about their gifts, theirs also tended to be more practical or intellectual, but Jack... Jack was especially talented when it came to giving gifts and she didn't believe for one second that he'd let her down this time. After opening the box, she discovered her faith hadn't been misplaced; SG-1 had delivered and it wasn't even Christmas. Inside the package was an unadorned dark wooden case that when opened, revealed two scabbards side by side and pointing towards each other, providing enough room for both to fit into the narrow case.
The hilt and pommel of each, plainly visible outside of each sheathed sword, were perhaps six to eight inches in length. The hilts were a matte black, grips made with the same material that her own M9 sidearm used, and wrapped with brown leather as adornment. The crossguard was angled slightly upwards towards the blade, extending maybe four or five inches to either side.
On top of the blackened metal scabbards was a note that read:
#
Faith,
It was Teal'c who actually came up with the idea for the gifts after we found out Buffy was coming with you. We know that you were concerned about space issues and that you'd left a lot of your weapons and goodies behind, so we thought we'd help you out. Teal'c thought that having the two swords might give you and Buffy the chance to spar to your little Slayer hearts' content; I'm paraphrasing, if you hadn't already worked that out. According to Daniel, this type of sword was referred to as "Knightly swords" and believed they were "appropriate for mankind's Champions."
Gotta say, never expected to be giving stuff like this out as gifts, but hey, never know what you'll find out there. Because we had such a short time to get it all together, I had to call in a favor to have these made before you left. You should also know that they're made out of refined trinium and naquadah like the Prometheus's hull, so go "balls to the walls" as you crazy kids put it. Thor, and the rest of us, wish you a happy birthday.
Jack
P.S. It was Daniel's idea to add an inscription, but it was Thor who was adamant about what the inscription should be. He takes his position as your besty very seriously.
#
"Oh, shit," Faith murmured in amazement, even as she slid the note into her pocket. She wasn't sure she could pull off an explanation about what Jack meant by 'mankind's Champions' or what a Slayer was. She took one of the scabbards into her hand and drew the blade out with the familiar rasp of steel, staring at the sword as it caught the light. These swords, given that they were fashioned out of trinium and naquadah, would probably last as long as the collapsible blade Willow had spelled, and were without a doubt far sharper and lighter.
"Damn, Jack, you know me all too well," Faith murmured, running a hand along the flat of the blade.
Faith looked down the length of the blade and noticed the inscription Jack had been referring to and brought the sword closer to her face to inspect.
Í hverri kynslóð, það er valið eitt
"Damn if Thor can't be a sentimental guy every now and then," Faith chuckled after she finished translating the inscription.
"Ooh, pretty," Buffy cooed, looking at the swords.
After a moment of stroking, cooing, or making various noises of appreciation, they realized the other three people in the room were staring at them.
"What?" Buffy asked defensively, "they are pretty!"
Weir shook her head in disbelief. "The both of you are disturbingly fond of sharp things. But to each her own, I suppose. Happy birthday, Faith, hopefully your next one will be slightly less exciting than this one, but the both of you should be proud of yourselves for your involvement in the rescue mission."
"A non-catastrophic birthday? From your lips..." Buffy murmured, making Faith's lips quirk in amusement.
"What do the inscriptions say?" Peter asked, leaning over the squint at the shiny metallic blade.
"And what language is it in?" Buffy added.
"It's Ancient Norse, I can tell that much," McKay stated confidently.
Faith nodded. "The Asgard language doesn't look like this, but it sort of sounds like it. Daniel thought it'd be a good idea to learn a little bit. This phrase was one I learned and I suppose Thor thought it appropriate."
"Thor?" the other people in the room asked in unison.
"Jack called in a favor," Faith murmured, still looking over the blade.
"And the inscription?" Peter asked impatiently.
Faith blinked. "It says," she said slowly, meeting Buffy's eyes, "Into every generation, there is a Chosen One."
There was a moment of silence before Rodney asked quite loudly, "What the hell does that mean? Chosen One to do what? Mop the floors?"
Faith snickered. "Yeah, cleaning up the trash isn't the worst way of putting it. Kinda personal though. Can't wait to give these bad boys a spin."
Buffy nodded. "Let's go celebrate with the others," Buffy paused and turned to the others. "By the way, how is it that all the Athosy people can speak English?"
Rodney stepped forward eagerly. "It's actually quite fascinating, you see when the Ancients were seeding life across the galaxy. or galaxies I suppose, they—"
"Doctor McKay?" Weir interrupted, "before you head out to the party, please make sure you give me a report about how well the naquadah generators are handling the power demands of the city and our activities."
The excited scientist visibly wilted. "Fine, I suppose I better get started then."
"Ladies, I'll see you out there in a moment. I'll be contacting you sometime after 11:30 for your own debriefings. Now go enjoy your evening," Dr. Weir said, making shooing motions.
December 15th, 2005
Maj. Sheppard palmed open the door, revealing a conference room already occupied by Dr. Weir, Col. Sumner, and Dr. McKay
"John, thanks for joining us," Dr. Weir nodded to him with a smile. "Please, take a seat. I invited Dr. McKay here for any insights he might have to offer on the Wraith based on what you're able to report."
Sheppard nodded and took a seat opposite to McKay, Weir, and Sumner at the odd crescent shaped table. Across from him, McKay had a small notepad with a pen at the ready.
"Colonel, you're looking much better. Glad to see you here," John Sheppard said, tone ringing with his sincerity.
"Thanks, Major. As a matter of fact, I'm quite glad to be here, too. Thank you for making that happen," Sumner replied with the hint of a smile.
"Col. Sumner, why don't you begin, start to finish, with your experiences on Athos and with the Wraith," Weir suggested, giving the man her full attention.
The colonel spoke for about 30 minutes, starting from exiting the Stargate on Athos, discovering the native people and the abandoned Ancient city, all the way to getting stunned and captured by the Wraith. Throughout his report, McKay would occasionally unleash a battery of questions that Sumner was able to field with a remarkable display of calm. Obviously, the colonel was in possession of a much deeper well of patience than Sheppard had originally ascribed to him.
"Alright Major. Why don't you start and then we'll go over it all together," Weir suggested.
"Yes ma'am," Sheppard nodded, and began.
His story mirrored that of Sumner's for the most part, the key departures being his going off with Teyla to examine their writings about the Wraith and his return to Atlantis in the company of fleeing Athosians. After that, all that remained was for him to relay the events that took place on the rescue mission.
John took a deep breath and started off by describing the Puddle Jumper, how it operated, what its capabilities were, general observations that were largely for the benefit of the Canadian scientist next to him. Then he began to describe his arrival onto the Wraith planet and the Wraith ship they discovered.
"Major, if I might ask, what made you decide to bring Miss Summers and Lehane with you on the rescue op?" Sumner interrupted after his description of their initial deployment onto the planet.
The question didn't seem hostile, just curious. Seems his success in rescuing the colonel had helped warm the colonel's opinion of him. Imagine that.
"Well sir..." Sheppard trailed off, not entirely sure how to phrase it without casting the girls in a bad light. "They...well, they threatened to hurt me." Shit. Fail.
"I'm sorry, what?" Weir asked, eyes wide.
Sheppard coughed in embarrassment. "There's more to it then that. I know that Burkle is their friend and they wanted to take part in our rescue. I also know that the colonel promised them a chance to work in the field, so I decided to give it to them."
"And they threatened you?" Sumner reported with a arched eyebrow.
"They're kind of scary, Colonel, even if you have to look way down to actually meet their eyes," Sheppard replied defensively.
McKay snorted. "Better not say that to the blonde one. I heard her threaten the last guy who called her short by saying she'd make a new pair of moccasins from his skin."
"They sure don't play around, it would seem," Sumner observed, smiling despite himself.
McKay's description of Buffy's graphic threat suddenly reminded him of the grisly tableau he'd discovered in the depths of the Wraith ship. He closed his eyes and swallowed hard.
"Sheppard, are you alright? You're looking a little pale," Weir asked with concern.
"Sorry, Dr. Weir, just got reminded of something from the rescue op. I'm just about at that part of the story, as a matter of fact. I went aboard the Wraith ship with Lt. Ford, Faith, and Buffy. As you know, Colonel, I left Buffy and Ford behind to get everyone out the cell while Faith and I looked for Miss Burkle." Aside to Weir, he added, "she was the only one of our people missing from the cell and Bates reported Burkle had been taken by the Wraith."
"Taken?" Sumner scowled. "That girl chose to go in my stead. I have no idea how she was able to escape, but it wasn't her place to put her life on the line like that by pretending to be in command."
The head of the Atlantis expedition sat back in her chair in surprise. "She chose to go?"
"Colonel, Dr. Weir..." Sheppard swallowed hard. "There is something off about Winifred Burkle, something...wrong."
Sumner gave him a sharp look. "What do you mean, Major?"
Weir's stomach dropped. She'd been given various warnings about the physicist: from Gen. O'Neill, from Whistler, and she didn't particularly want to add to that growing list of concerned parties. "What do you mean, Major?" Weir asked quietly.
"Two things, Doctor. One, she doesn't show up on the life signs detector—"
"I'm sorry, life signs detector?" Dr. McKay interrupted.
Sheppard took the small device out of his pocket and demonstrated its capabilities to his audience. "Found it on the Puddle Jumper, or rather the Jumper gave it to me one when I hoped for one; it helped find our people and avoid the Wraith. But funny thing, Doctor, is that it could detect Faith and I when we went to find her, but it couldn't detect Burkle, not even when she was standing right in front of me. I don't know what that means, but according to this thing, she's not alive."
Weir frowned in thought. Whistler had said that Winifred Burkle was dead, which would certainly conform to the readings of Sheppard's device. But if there was something masquerading as her, or had somehow taken over her, she should still have displayed some form of life sign. She sighed and, unable to think of any other explanations, said quietly, "I'm not sure I understand the device well enough to hazard a guess as to why that's so, but I'm certainly no expert with Ancient technology to begin with. Rodney?"
Sheppard nodded and handed the device over to McKay, who looked like he was ready to climb over the table and jump on top of him to get his hands on the new Ancient equipment.
"If both you and the Wraith showed, presumably any similar life form would show as well. I'll take a look but..." McKay shrugged.
"But it's not just that. It's the second thing about her that really...bothers me," Sheppard said. He closed his eyes as he once again remembered the room that had been painted red. It was like a kid's room with all the kid's toys strewn about, except the toys in this particular room had been body parts.
"Major, what did you find?" Col. Sumner asked, his voice almost gentle but still unyielding.
"Faith and I found Burkle because we had been following the sound of someone screaming. Well, we found Burkle free and unhurt, which got me real curious about who it was doing all the screaming. So I stayed behind for a moment and did a little more exploration. There was a wall not too far from where Burkle had appeared, one with a lot of gaps that I could see through."
Both Sumner and Weir nodded for him to continue when he paused to make sure they were both listening closely.
"Well, just like Burkle said, I saw the corpse she described, that Taran guy. She was right on, looked like a skeleton, all dried up. But what really got my attention was all the blood. The blood, the body parts, the pieces of brain clearly visible on the table, the walls, the floor, everywhere."
"What?" Weir asked hoarsely, feeling sick at the image Sheppard produced.
"There were at least three Wraith in that room, Doctor, and whatever happened to them made the room look like a charnel house, like they had been slaughtered. Then I looked at Winifred Burkle, clean as a whistle, practically cheerful, and very, very dead according to the scanner."
John leaned closer to Elizabeth Weir and Marshall Sumner, keeping his voice quiet. "Doctor, Colonel, there is something wrong with Burkle."
Weir opened her mouth and closed it and glanced at Sumner who looked just as disquieted as she felt.
"We won't do anything for now, not until we have more information. If Miss Summers and Lehane call themselves her friends then we need to speak to them," Sumner spoke after several minutes of silence, then directed a questioning look toward Sheppard. "I saw Miss Summers in action for only a few brief moments, but what I saw was impressive. How well do you think they both performed throughout the mission?"
Sheppard shrugged. "Well, good news is that both of them showed up on the scanner just fine," he said somewhat sourly, but shook himself and straightened perceptibly. "I'd say that each of them proved themselves to be great assets in the field. I didn't see as much of Buffy's handiwork, but I know Buffy was actively covering our rear as we made it out of the ship. She and Lt. Ford were both responsible for taking down their own fair share of those big Wraith soldiers. But Faith..." John shook his head.
Weir cocked an eyebrow.
Sheppard whistled a long note of amazement. "Far as I know, she never fired a shot."
"I don't understand, Major, if that's the case then why do you seem so impressed?" Sumner asked.
"Honestly, I'm not sure I understand either. See, I was taught never to bring a knife to a gunfight, but apparently Faith skipped taught that particular lesson. I say that because that crazy-ass girl decided to one-up the knife and brought a sword to a firefight in an alien ship instead. But somehow she pulled it off, because I watched her save my ass from being stunned by the same Wraith who got you, Colonel. Apparently her sword trumps alien energy weapons because she took him down by severing both of his hands and then decapitating him all in about two or three seconds."
"A sword?" Weir asked incredulously, "where'd she get a sword?" She then paused. "And how did she hide it?"
"It's collapsible," Sheppard answered, clearly envious, "I didn't see the actual mechanism, but the damn thing came from underneath her jacket sleeve. "
"Miss Lehane really took the head off a Wraith with a collapsible sword?" Col. Sumner asked after a moment.
Sheppard nodded.
Sumner whistled appreciatively. "I see what you mean about scary, Maj. Sheppard."
At the doctor's confused look, John asked her, "do you know how hard it is to decapitate someone quick and clean like that?"
"I'm afraid not, Major, I never felt the urge to learn the art of proper decapitation," she replied blandly.
Sumner chuckled at that and nodded toward Sheppard to continue.
John rolled his eyes. "It's hard, You have to be really strong or have a really well-designed blade and have really good aim. It's not as easy as they make it look in the movies, but Faith managed to do just that."
"So Faith Lehane has a collapsible sword," McKay said slowly, "and Gen. O'Neill, the rest of SG-1, and Thor just gave her another sword, with a spare for Buffy."
"What?" Sheppard and Sumner asked simultaneously.
"Faith's birthday was yesterday. The other package that was dropped out of the Stargate with the champagne when we arrived here were her gifts. Gifts that included two swords with Ancient Norse inscribed on them. They're made out of the same stuff that the Prometheus uses for its hull, which as you know, is not cheap. Apparently, Gen. O'Neill called in a favor from Thor to get this expedited," Weir elaborated.
"How does Thor even know them?" Sumner asked. "And why would he actually involved himself in a...birthday gift."
"I'll tell you what little I already know later, Colonel, but we need to move on." Weir cleared her throat to get their attention. "Barring any developments with Miss Burkle that might reflect upon Faith and Buffy, would you recommend them for field operations again, Major? Colonel?"
Col. Sumner indicated for Sheppard to answer.
"Their actions speak for themselves, Dr. Weir. They handled themselves professionally and never put any of my men in danger. They were able to perform their duties while under pressure and conduct themselves well when the fighting began, sword fight included," John said, ending with a small smile.
Weir drummed her fingers on the table in thought. "I'll speak with Miss Summers and Lehane after I speak with Sgt. Bates and Lt. Ford," Dr. Weir announced. "Colonel, would you mind sitting in on those interviews?"
"Of course not," Sumner said. He turned to face Sheppard. "Major, I want you to look over the mission personnel and begin putting a hypothetical team together."
"Colonel?"
"Sheppard, I may have issues with your record but I would be a fool to dismiss the effort you made to ensure you left no man behind in the hands of the enemy. You did your job and you did it well. By the looks of things, it appears that we'll be making first contact regularly from now on, and I think we can both agree that you're more of a 'people person' than I am. With your success in winning over the Athosians, I think you'd be the more effective team leader in similar situations."
Sheppard's eyebrows rose at the colonel's words. "How about the Athosians?"
"What about them?" Sumner asked with furrowed brows.
"Teyla, for example. Her people are with us now, at least temporarily, and last night she promised her assistance in locating new allies," Sheppard stated, "she would be a great asset for a first contact team."
Weir looked interested at the idea but was obviously deferring to Sumner on the matter. Sumner looked pensive, and to Sheppard's relief, hadn't immediately dismissed the idea. "Let me think on that, Sheppard. I'll get back to you on it within 48 hours. I'd feel more comfortable with the idea once we get a better idea of how the Athosians propose to help us. Teyla's offer of providing security, while generous, is...complicated."
"I understand sir," Sheppard nodded. The idea of trusting people they'd just met with unfamiliar weapons and tactics in their brand new home was not something anyone would classify as ideal. Sheppard would have been prone to more of a snap decision, but Sumner's argument was more than reasonable.
"Alright, then. Think about what I said about a team, Major, nothing is set in stone, but start thinking about it. You're dismissed," the colonel said, "Sgt. Bates and Lt. Ford should be waiting outside, please show them in."
"Yes sir," Sheppard saluted and withdrew.
"Rodney, I want you to be here when Faith and Buffy are debriefed as well," Weir said.
"Are you sure? Surely Zelenka could take care of this, there are so many things I need to—"
"Rodney," Weir said with a warning tone.
"Sure, be happy to," McKay said, folding his arms in a fairly impressive facsimile of a pout.
"Colonel, do you think you could have someone flag Faith and Buffy down and tell them to be here by 13:00?"
Col. Sumner nodded and touched his earpiece, relaying the instructions. He had just finished when Bates and Ford came into the room for their own debriefing. Marshall Sumner made himself comfortable; it was going to be a long day.
Unable to reach either Buffy or Faith by their earpieces, Sgt. Louis Stackhouse, USMC, stood outside of Faith's quarters, failing to elicit any reaction from the inside as he alternated between knocking and shouting. After several minutes, he sighed, surrendered, and tapped his earpiece to broadcast a general message to security personnel. "Does anyone have eyes on Miss Lehane or Miss Summers?"
A chorus of 'negatives' answered his question.
Louis sighed and closed his eyes in frustration. He did not particularly want to hunt down two missing people in what amounted to a city that wasn't even close to being fully mapped. He knew they could fight, they could shoot, they could even swing a sword apparently. But at that moment, all they were was a major pain in his ass. He lifted his hand to broadcast a system wide alert that they had two missing persons when he heard a soft giggle.
Confused, he glanced around until he felt a light tug on his jacket sleeve. Looking down revealed a child, one of the Athosians who were tentatively making Atlantis their home. The young girl had wound her fist into his jacket to get his attention and was looking up at him with wide eyes filled with wonder. He bent down so that he was eye to eye with her. "Hi there," he said, smiling. "What are you doing here?"
"Are you one of the Wraith hunters?" she asked in a small voice.
The Marine felt himself startle at the epithet before he nodded slowly. "Yeah, yeah I am."
The girl looked down, abashed before whispering, "Teyla told Mama who told my brother who told me to go find one of the Wraith hunters and tell them about Faith and Buffy."
Louis perked up. "What did they want you to tell me?"
"I don't remember," the girl said, her face crumbling as her lower lip began to tremble ominously.
Stackhouse mentally facepalmed. Still, that lip of hers was dangerous and he couldn't help but smile at the girl despite his own internal frustration. "Alright sweetie, what is your name?"
The girl whispered, "Aleta."
"That's a pretty name, Aleta. Do you think you can take me to your Mama, to Faith and Buffy?"
The girl nodded shyly.
"Great, let's go."
Aleta beamed at him, put her hand in his, and began dragging him down the corridor.
Long before he saw them, he heard them. More correctly, he heard the clash of metal against metal. He might have sprinted down the hall to check out the commotion but for the lack of surprise displayed on the girl's face.
"What's—"
"Shh," she whispered, holding a finger to her lips.
Louis obeyed instantly and then rolled his eyes at himself. "Yes ma'am," he muttered.
The sound of metal striking metal and the grunts of exertion were getting steadily louder until he saw a small knot of Athosians peeking around the edge of a doorway. Aleta let go of his hand and was off like a shot, racing to take her place, elbowing a slightly older boy, presumably her brother, out of the way.
He tapped his earpiece. "This is Sgt. Stackhouse, I think I might have found them. I'm on the East Pier, maybe a mile from the central tower. On my way to confirm now. Stackhouse. Over."
Receiving an acknowledgement from the C&C, he made his way toward the cluster of seven or eight people and the room they were watching through the doorway. Before he'd even approached the door, it seemed obvious they were watching some sort of sparring or, judging by the clangor of metal striking metal, dueling match. The occasional and familiar sound of flesh striking flesh with violent force with a subsequent exhalation or grunt of pain was a bit of a giveaway as well. A woman, Teyla, Sheppard had named her, turned to him with eyes full of veneration.
"I have seen the warriors of your people and they are fierce and brave," she acknowledged gravely. Turning back, she continued in an almost reverent whisper, "but I have never seen anyone move or fight like they do." Teyla indicated the room with a nod of her head.
Louis's eyebrows shot up and he moved to a position where he could see the inside of the room.
"Oh," Stackhouse murmured, eyes wide as he quickly became just as enthralled as the other observers.
Faith remembered the knife the Mayor gave her, remembered her reaction to her first sight of the jackal knife. But if that knife had excited her, then this sword was pure sex with a happy ending included; a weapon that possessed an unparalleled ability to mete out a Slayer's wrath.
Her naked blade brushed off Buffy's quick thrust and she delivered a rapid riposte that was similarly swept aside. The attributes she'd ascribed to her sword gave her a moment's pause as she considered whether what Buffy and she were doing was closer to sex or wrath. Fuck, when it comes to us, it sort of goes hand in hand, she thought, bemused.
Unfortunately, her thoughts had distracted her, and Buffy's backhand got her square in the face, snapping her head to the side. Buffy's following spin kick to her gut deposited her on the ground several feet away. She rolled onto her back and performed a no handed kip-up, sword immediately clashing with Buffy's.
Faith and Buffy thrust, countered, and slashed, each looking for the advantage, for a way to fell the other. The Slayers eventually found themselves locking blades, faces separated only by their own blades pressed against one another. Faith moved a foot back to avoid Buffy's attempt to sweep her feet and then headbutted the blonde. Buffy grunted and fell back a step, but her blade never wavered. Faith faked a lunge but managed to turn her thrust into a downward swipe. Having fallen for the fake thrust, Buffy only avoided Faith's blade by performing a backflip, allowing the blade to sweep harmlessly beneath her.
Faith and Buffy circled one another, eyes locked, bare feet on the floor, their swords at the ready. As if there had been some hidden signal, they both came together, thrusting and slashing, cutting and lunging. They were a blur of movement, all deadly grace and controlled ferocity.
They had been at this for thirty minutes, neither Slayer willing to yield to the other. They both bore wounds by now, bloody slashes, bruises, black eyes and Faith's headbutt had apparently managed to break Buffy's nose. More unusual to their observers, was the fact that they were grinning at each other as if they'd never been having such a grand time.
Faith batted Buffy's slash to her right side and then stepped into the other girl's space to deliver an elbow strike into the blonde's sternum. Buffy coughed and stepped back again but delivered a spinning back kick when Faith advanced again.
Faith grunted at the impact on her chest and it was her turn to fall back several paces. Buffy lunged, her hand bringing down the blade from the level of her shoulder downwards. Faith swept her blade upwards to meet it causing both swords to shiver at the sheer force of the impact. But they didn't linger, both spun away and brought their swords together and danced, swords striking, and counterstriking.
Buffy lashed out with another backhand, which Faith caught and twisted, bringing both herself and the blonde's arm up behind Buffy's back. She fending off Buffy's awkward sword swing and leaned in.
"They're watching us, you know," Faith whispered into Buffy's ear, lips grazing the blonde's ear.
Faith felt the blonde shiver and smiled before cursing and stumbling back as Buffy slammed her head back.
Buffy smiled. "They've been watching for 20 minutes." She then darted back to give herself some space and brought her sword into a middle guard position while Faith left her sword trailing behind her in an extended tail guard. They circled once more, slowly.
Slowly.
Slowly.
Buffy was about to lunge when Faith suddenly dropped her sword. Buffy raised her eyebrow. "Giving up?"
Faith smiled, but said nothing as she jogged to the back of the room and rifled through the extra clothes they'd left there, ignoring the spectators. She straightened and slowly stalked toward Buffy once again. Her hand flashed out as she flung a knife towards Buffy's heart. A scream erupted from the doorway that ended in a harsh gasp of relief when Buffy caught it. Buffy smirked at Faith before looking down at the blade. She frowned, "this one isn't mine."
"Oh," Faith said, "oops."
Buffy grinned and drew her hand back and let the kris fly through the air. The scream wasn't heard again, but there were an audible set of gasps as the blade blurred towards the brunette. The gasps once again turned into exhalations of relief as Faith caught it, who then tossed the more normal looking dagger to the blonde.
"Sure that'll take the punishment?" Buffy asked skeptically.
Faith evaluated the kris Lorne had given her with a calculating eye. The kris was actually made of bone and silver isn't exactly one of the more durable metals around either; it should have been pathetically fragile. She shrugged. "Lorne has yet to let me down. He would have known better than to give a Slayer a weapon that broke like a twig. Well...unless it was a stake."
Buffy snickered and held her knife up.
"Thank God, we're hot chicks with superpowers," Buffy murmured.
"Definitely takes the edge off," Faith agreed, smiling.
Buffy slashed outwards and Faith caught the vicious swipe with her kris. Buffy stepped back immediately and indicated the kris with a hand.
Faith brought the kris up, carefully inspecting the weapon for damage. After a moment, she shrugged. "Lorne knows his shit."
Faith lunged, kris extended in a thrust that Buffy batted aside. Faith spun and used her blade to counter the blonde's parrying slash. A high kick that would have caught her square in the face had her ducking low and darting in and landing a slash along Buffy's shoulder.
The blonde hissed at the sting and looked at the shoulder now sporting both a bleeding slash and a severed strap of her sports bra. Buffy eyed the brunette. "Really?"
Faith just grinned at her, making Buffy roll her eyes before attacking once again. Buffy swung downwards with her dagger. Faith brought her blade up to catch Buffy's overhanded blow then used her weight to shove upwards, giving her the space needed to deliver a lightning quick jab to Buffy's chin.
Buffy stumbled back, blinking. "You sucker punched me!"
Faith rose back to her full height and smiled at the blonde, beckoning her with a wave of her hand. "Come on short stuff."
Buffy narrowed her eyes, a dangerous glint appearing in their mesmerizing green depths. She readjusted the knife so the blade ran perpendicular to her arm, blade angled away from her.
Faith mirrored her pose and lost her smile, sensing the end of the fight drawing nearer. The girls advanced cautiously until they were six feet away from each other, when Faith launched herself in the air, performing a front flip that left her kris clashing against Buffy's dagger.
This time, they didn't step back or retreat. They were a flurry of slashes and fists, forearms sliding against one another as their blades met. Faith delivered another elbow strike, this time to Buffy's injured shoulder, who answered with a knee to Faith's rib. The resulting crack left them tied for broken bones.
Faith didn't stop, throwing her arm in an uppercut to swipe her blade upwards. Buffy's blocked the attack but Faith used the opportunity to lunge forward. Buffy moved her body sideways to dodge the thrust and then extended her own knife out to answer with a lunge, but Faith instead grabbed onto Buffy's arm and jerked the blonde to her. When they were practically face to face, Faith accepted the punch to her face in order to gain her desired position.
Faith dropped her kris from her right hand and struggled to use her left hand to keep Buffy's blade away while she brought a foot behind Buffy. Faith accepted another knee to her injured rib, the jarring impact making her grunt at the stab of pain. Faith then grabbed Buffy's throat and pushed her back.
The blonde's grip on the dagger faltered as she toppled over the foot Faith had left behind her. Faith used her right hand to increase the force behind Buffy's fall until Faith let herself fall as well. Buffy hit the mat with an explosive exhalation of air and wheezed as Faith fell on top of her immediately after. But Buffy hadn't lived for almost a decade as a Slayer to be taken out by a simple Judo takedown. The blonde grabbed Faith around her chest and rolled them over so she was on top.
Faith smiled inwardly, having already anticipated Buffy. Despite the pain in her ribs, she wrapped her legs around the blonde and used her left hand to take hold of Buffy's right while her right arm bent over the same arm, collapsing Buffy's arm almost instantly. Faith used her right arm to keep pinning Buffy's arm to her chest while her left arm grabbed Buffy's shoulder.
Faith uncrossed her legs and used her left hand to pull Buffy forward even as she slipped to the side. Still holding onto Buffy's arm, her legs caught Buffy over the neck and under the armpit and then pushed Buffy to the ground. Buffy gasped, her arms stretched painfully in Faith's grasp over the brunette's stomache, while Faith held Buffy down with her legs. Every time the blonde tried to maneuver out of the hold, Faith would simply adjust or pull Buffy's arm even harder, her perpendicular position making it easy to keep Buffy trapped.
"When the fuck did you learn Jiu-Jitsu and Judo?" Buffy gasped, tapping out.
"Judo was prison, free classes. Why they thought it was a good idea, I don't know, but I had fun. Jiu-Jitsu...well, you really think I was in Colorado learning how to not freeze my tits off in the cold for two years? Watts may act like a spaz, but dude is like a wolverine in the ring."
Disengaging, they both slowly staggered way to their feet.
"Fuck B, this rib is broken," Faith said with teeth gritted.
"Yeah, well you broke my nose!" Buffy retorted, wiping a hand across her face watching as it came away bloody.
"You elbowed my boob!"
"You slapped my ass!"
Faith smirked. "It's called an open palm strike, B, not my fault your ass got in my hand's way."
Buffy growled at her.
Someone coughed.
"What?" they asked in unison, standing side by side.
The uniformed man swallowed, either at the sight of them or at the ferocity of their question. "Col. Sumner, Dr. Weir, and Dr. McKay would like to see you in..." the man looked at his watch and paled. "20 minutes."
"Ah, shit," Faith cursed. "Stackhouse, right?"
"Sgt. Stackhouse, Louis if you like," the man confirmed.
"Alright Louis, let 'em know we're on our way as fast as we can limp," Faith said with a mischievous smile. "Girl here," she nodded toward Buffy, "knows how to pack a punch."
Stackhouse shook his head, but dutifully tapped his earpiece to deliver Faith's message. He idly wondered what they'd make of their appearance. And if that wasn't the longest, most intense, and most impressive display of martial arts he'd ever seen, he'd eat his tac vest. It was unprofessional of him, but he couldn't help but look forward to seeing the reactions of Weir, Sumner, and Mckay when they eventually staggered in.
There was a soft chime at the door, which subsequently slid open to reveal Sgt. Stackhouse, who immediately stood at attention. "Dr. Weir, Col. Sumner, I have Miss Summers and Miss Lehane with me, I apologize for the delay."
Sumner waved it off. "Thank you Sergeant. Please, show them in."
Stackhouse, who was wearing an odd half-smile on his face, turned to beckon the two young women to enter the conference room. Upon entering the room, the two girls dropped their gear unceremoniously to the floor with a resounding 'thud' and clatter of metal. Wearing gym shorts and loose tank tops that were stained with blood, they sat down gingerly at one end of the oddly shaped table to face their fellow expedition members. All of whom just stared at them, eyes wide.
"Sorry we're late, um, do any of you have some medical tape or somethin'? I have a rib I need to tape up," Faith asked demurely, looking hopeful.
The two doctors and older Marine just shook their heads at the sight of their bloodied, bruised, and battered bodies.
"Um, were you attacked?" McKay asked, eyes like saucers.
"Nah, just a really good sparring round," Faith said with a wide smile. "You'll be happy to know, Dr. Weir, that the swords work."
Col. Sumner cleared his throat. "Pardon?"
"The new swords Thor and SG-1 got us, we gave 'em a test run," she elaborated. "Haven't had a good sparring match like that in ages." The brunette stretched in satisfaction before cringing and holding a hand to her side.
"We need to get you guys to medical, right away," Sumner said authoritatively, finally coming to his senses.
"No, we're okay. But you could just get Dr. Beckett to bring us some medical tape and butterfly bandages?" Buffy asked, then winced. "Maybe something for a broken nose too?"
"You must be joking," Weir said flatly.
"I've had worse," the Slayers said simultaneously.
"What? How?" McKay asked incredulously.
"I died," Buffy said flatly.
"Coma for eight months," Faith added.
McKay just stared at them.
"I got better," they replied in unison.
Faith turned a delighted smile towards Buffy. "You did pay attention to Holy Grail. Atta girl!"
Buffy smiled and shrugged.
"Both of you, go to Beckett, now. We'll take a break for lunch and start again when you don't look like you've been run through a meat grinder," Weir commanded. Looking at her watch, she added, "make it 14:30."
The girls sighed, nodded, and stood up with only a few hisses of discomfort.
An hour and a half later the girls returned, now wearing their Atlantis uniforms featuring the black swathes on the front indicating their role in security and military operations. Their faces and visible skin was blood-free and the more serious cuts bandaged, Buffy was holding a bad of ice to her nose, and by her stiff movements, Faith's ribs had been bandaged. In other words, it no longer looked as if they'd been freshly beaten and tortured, much to the three interviewers' relief.
"I want to make sure I understand this. This," Sumner said indicating their state, "is a result of a sparring match?" At their nods, he continued, visibly angry. "This isn't something that can happen again, do you understand me? You have incapacitated yourselves to the point where I can't include you in Atlantis security, let alone in any field operations for at least two weeks!"
"It's not that bad, Colonel," Buffy protested. "We'll be fine in a day or two, I promise."
"Even if that's true, which it obviously isn't," Sumner said, "it's unacceptable. I have no problem with you choosing to practice your...swordsmanship, or to spar with one another; I would encourage it even. But it is quite another matter entirely to spar with one another to the point where injuring yourselves like this can happen."
"I understand, Colonel," Faith murmured, a statement echoed by Buffy shortly after.
Sumner and Weir exchanged a look and sighed. McKay cleared his throat in discomfort.
"Faith, Buffy..." Weir trailed off, looking at them while considering her words carefully. Finally she blew out a breath and leaned forward, staring at them intently. "Is Winifred Burkle dead?"
"Wow, you really just put that one out there," Faith muttered, rocking back in her chair. The Slayers glanced at each other for a long moment before Faith answered in a quiet voice. "Yes."
"So what is walking around in a Burkle suit and for how long?" McKay asked incredulously. "I was going to ask her on a date before Zelenka got to it. Please tell me she's not a Goa'uld." McKay paused. "Can I still ask her on a date?"
"Shut up, McKay," Sumner and Weir growled in unison, glaring at the Canadian physicist.
"Illyria has been around for almost two years," Buffy answered quietly.
Faith huffed out an annoyed gust of air. "I'm guessin' Sheppard told you about her invisible man act on the scanner given your asking about her being dead and all. No, she's not a snake, if she was I'm pretty sure she would've shown up."
McKay nodded in confirmation. "We believe so."
"Then what is 'Illyria'?" Col. Sumner asked, eyes hard and mouth set.
"Complicated," Faith replied.
"Very complicated," Buffy agreed fervently.
"She has layers, like an onion."
"And like onions, you'll cry if you try to peel them," Buffy elaborated, "or bleed, or scream...well you get the point."
"Gen. O'Neill knew about this?" Weir asked, barely maintaining her facade of calm in the face of their flippancy about this new revelation.
"Yeah," Faith confirmed, "but—"
"I asked him if she, or either of you, would pose a danger to this expedition, and he looked me in the eye and told me 'no'," Weir stated angrily and opened her mouth to add more when Faith interrupted her.
"I'm betting those aren't the words he used."
Weir narrowed her eyes. "And why is that?"
"O'Neill didn't want to lie to you, Dr. Weir, to either of you. So he told you as much of the truth as he could without endangering our chances of coming along but to also help you accept the truth whenever it came out. And we knew it was just a matter of time, Colonel, Dr. Weir; you can't hide someone like Illyria once shit starts getting crazy."
Sumner rubbed his forehead, a tension headache beginning to make itself known. "Continue please, starting with why Gen. O'Neill would want 'Illyria' and the two of you to go with our expedition, and what Illyria actually is."
Weir paused as something occurred to her. "O'Neill mentioned at one point that you, Faith, and Burkle were a package, does that have something to do with it?"
Faith nodded hesitantly, before huffing out a breath and rolling her eyes. "I'm her 'guide'," Faith said, using bunny ears for quotation marks.
"Her guide?" McKay asked, "to what?"
"Remember how we said that Illyria is complicated? Well, we weren't lying and her current state adds another heaping portion of complicated on top of it all. Illyria has stated that she needs a guide, someone to help her understand the world, understand humanity, to help her...find her way, I guess," Buffy said slowly.
"O'Neill didn't necessarily want her off-world, but it was a better alternative than leaving her on Earth," Faith added. "You remember getting all your people off the base in Antarctica to McMurdo so O'Neill could use it for a day?"
"How'd you—" Weir began.
"B and I were there with Illyria, along with Daniel Jackson and Thor for a meeting," Faith interrupted. "Thor had been charged by Asgard High Council, the Nox and apparently whatever Furlings are around to verify and report on her presence. Were she to stay on Earth, things would have become...tricky."
"I don't understand, how—" McKay was about to ask before he, too, was interrupted.
"These are questions we can answer later, McKay. My point is that Jack wasn't trying to dick you guys around. If he was putting the expedition in danger, then you can be comforted by the fact that he did so to lessen the danger to Earth," Faith said. "But he knows that Illyria, and us, can help. You just need a little—"
"Do not say 'faith'. Just...don't," McKay demanded with a grimace.
Weir opened her mouth to speak but Col. Sumner put a hand on her arm.
"Putting the issue of Jack aside, how long exactly has she been on our world? I believe you said she'd been around for two years, is that how long you've known about her or how long she's been on Earth? And why wouldn't Gen. O'Neill raise an alarm about something like this in the first place?" Sumner asked with gritted teeth.
"Well, nobody in the SGC knew until a short time after Jack was revived from stasis. As for the rest...that's part of the complicated, Colonel. Basically..." Buffy trailed off, looking at Faith for help.
Faith sighed, this wasn't going to be simple, easy, or pleasant. Luckily, being a Slayer had prepared her for such occurrences. "Look, I need you to listen to this carefully. All three of you. You need to hear what I'm saying, okay? Illyria, she isn't new to Earth. From her perspective, we are."
"We...?" McKay asked, before adding, "what?"
"You know how we sometimes make jokes about someone being old enough to remember the dinosaurs? Well, Illyria, she actually does," Faith said blandly. "And she remembers when the Ancients—Alterans, whatever, first set foot on Earth. That's part of why she understands their tech and language," she said, nodding towards McKay, whose eyes were alight as understanding began to dawn on him.
"The Ancients knew about her then? Or about her kind?" Weir asked. "And who exactly are her people? If they're still around, wouldn't we know about them?"
Faith blew out a breath. "She doesn't have a species, if that's what you mean. But those like her are known as the Old Ones and she's the only one of her kind that still walks among us. And yes, the Ancients knew about them, knew enough about them that they didn't give you any hints as to their existence or their fate so that you wouldn't go lookin' for them."
"'The only one of her kind that still walks among us'," McKay echoed. "Did they ascend like the Ancients?" the doctor asked.
"No. They were, at great effort and cost, captured and entombed," Buffy said.
"Cost and effort to whom?" McKay asked.
"The Ancients, the Nox, the Asgard, and especially the Furlings," Faith replied. "Ever wonder why you've never seen the Furlings? Or why the Nox are so reclusive? The Old Ones are why. They, the Old Ones, were...well basically they were everything the Goa'uld like to pretend they are. Gods from our perspective. What took the Alterans millions of years of evolution and their advanced technology to accomplish were the things Old Ones could do instinctively using only their...essence? as power."
"So why capture, or entomb? Why didn't the Ancients or Asgard just kill them?" Col. Sumner asked.
"Because they can't die," Buffy answered flatly. "Or at least, not the more powerful ones. And Illyria, she was one of the most feared Old Ones."
"So where are they entombed? I'm assuming Illyria escaped, shouldn't we have known about it so we can guard it? For that matter, if she's so terrifying and dangerous, why is she bothering to play human?" Sumner asked, anger evident in his tone, though his anger no longer seemed to center on them or even Gen. O'Neill.
"And for that matter, what happened to Winifred Burkle?" McKay added.
"The Deeper Well is where they're buried or entombed, which the Furlings were largely responsible for creating. See they figured out that though the Old Ones' essences or whatever couldn't be destroyed, they could be...contained. It's why the Old Ones went all Death Star on their homeworld once they figured out what was happening. And we're not saying a word about where it is, but it is guarded," Buffy answered
"Death Star on their homeworld?" McKay repeated slowly before he asked in a shrill voice, "they wiped out the Furlings?"
Buffy and Faith nodded. The brunette elaborated further. "Mostly. That's what Oma Desala told Doctor Jackson and Illyria confirmed it."
"You mentioned the people who paid the price for capturing these Old Ones. Was the Alliance of Four Great Races started because of the Old Ones?" McKay asked before immediately moving on to a new question, "and how would these Old Ones even be able to fight if they didn't have technology?"
"No to the first," Faith said instantly. "Oma Desala told Daniel Jackson that the Alliance became part of the war, but it began primarily as a way of sharing knowledge and technology. The other races were just drawn into it. McKay...they didn't need technology to fight."
"That makes no sense!" McKay exclaimed, shaking his head. Sumner remained quiet, watching the two Slayers with a calm intensity.
"Illyria was able to live in multiple dimensions at once, Dr. McKay," Buffy said quietly. "Could teleport across distances and dimensions at will. Everything the Ancients could do, they could too, without any technology and using only their own energy. To the Old Ones, they never thought they were in a war. Their fight with the Ancients and the others...it was fun for them. They were happily fighting amongst themselves the whole time, probably the biggest reason we're still here today. The Old Ones...they are power."
"Christ," Col. Sumner muttered, looking upwards as if seeking answers. He brought his head back down and looked at them levelly. "If this 'Deeper Well' is guarded, how did Illyria escape?" Sumner pressed, a finger tapping on the table in emphasis.
"She didn't," Buffy said. "A human, a really stupid human managed to sneak her out. That man loved Fred, and he believed that the girl of his dreams would make the perfect embodiment of his 'goddess'."
"The asshole arranged for Fred to be alone with the container of Illyria's essence. When Fred opened it, Illyria's essence went to the nearest vessel, her," Faith said, shaking her head. "The dumbfuck didn't even realize that by doing so, he was killin' Fred."
"It wasn't Illyria's decision, it wasn't done under her direction or encouragement, she had no control of her circumstances until Fred was dead, dead so that Illyria might live." Buffy met the eyes of those on the other side of the table as she defended the Old One.
"How did she, Fred, die? How did Illyria accidentally kill Fred?" McKay asked softly.
"Neither of us were there, but we heard from someone who was that it wasn't an instant thing, but the moment Illyria got inside Fred, Fred's body started turnin' into somethin' Illyria could take over. Fred's internal organs were destroyed and she became, well, Illyria calls it a shell," Faith answered, grimacing at the blunt description.
"Could you have saved her? Could you have stopped Illyria while she was...transitioning?" Weir asked.
"Yes," Faith answered harshly, "and millions of people would have died as a result."
There was silence as the others adjusted to that information.
"As for why she's not using our heads for drums and our spinal cords for maracas, there are two reasons. One is because she's not as powerful as she used to be. Can't really do her Cthulhu thing anymore. Two is because I agreed to be her guide," Faith said.
McKay choked. "Cthulhu?"
"Yeah, if you wanted to physically describe the Old Ones back in the day, Lovecraft wasn't far off, tentacles and size and all. Anyway, see, us mortals can't contain all that power the Old Ones could. Her big old badass self couldn't stay quite so badass because of the 'pathetic weakness' of her new shell. She's lost most of her power," Faith said, then held up a finger and lowered her voice. "But you see, she gained something, too."
"What?" McKay asked, he and the others leaning forward to hear Faith's lowered voice.
"Fred's memories. Memories and maybe even some of her emotions. Flashes of sentimentality that are completely alien to a being like her. It's why I'm her guide," Faith said, still speaking softly. "She's agreed to refrain from killing indiscriminately, to blend in with us 'lowly muck' because she, even if she won't admit it, desperately wants to understand the 'infection of humanity' inside her."
"How comforting," McKay remarked dryly.
"It should be," Faith said. "You know how she defined winning back in the day? when she first came back?"
"How?" Weir asked, enraptured in Faith's tale.
"'To never die and to conquer all. That is winning.' She's come a long way from that and it's one of the reasons why I'm willing to be her guide. Well, that and I couldn't actually stop her even if I wanted to."
Weir looked down for a moment before she glanced at Sumner. "Col. Sumner, Rodney, do you have any more questions?"
McKay shook his head. "You've said that you are Illyria's guide, why you specifically?"
"I wasn't the first; the first was a guy named Wesley. Wesley, he loved Fred, not like the guy who was obsessed with her, Wes genuinely loved her. He loathed Illyria because she took Fred from him, but he was the one willing to help her when she lost most of her power. But remember those memories she got? Well, she remembers Fred loving Wes back, and even if Illyria can't really comprehend it, all of a sudden humans aren't quite the same pond scum she remembers. She's been sort of listless since Wes died and I think it's part of why I'm her guide, which ties into the other reasons she chose me."
"One was that, according to her, I wasn't boring like the rest of the 'muck', that like her, I too had hit rock bottom and managed to scramble my way back up. That, unlike the others, I'm willing to do what needs to be done, even if what needs to be done isn't somethin' pretty. The second reason was her discovery that I might be traveling through the Astria Porta."
"She's been through the Stargate before?" McKay asked.
"Twice," Faith said flatly.
"What happened the first time?" Sumner asked, obviously sensing her discomfort.
"There was another city-ship like Atlantis, um...what was it called, B?"
"Lyonesse?" the blonde suggested.
"The lost city mentioned in Arthurian legend," McKay nodded, "and?"
"She traveled through the Stargate to reach it," Faith said, crossing her arms. Seeing Sumner's steady stare, she sighed, "and she burned it. Anything else you want to know?"
Sumner considered the two girls. "About Illyria, no, well none that I'll ask now. But I do have a few questions for the two of you. How is it that you know so much about these Old Ones? And now that I'm looking a little more closely, how is it that several of your bruises have already noticeably improved after less than two hours?"
Weir and McKay both blinked and then narrowed their eyes to inspect the girls' injuries.
Weir's face suddenly lit with some burgeoning idea. "I was speaking with Gen. O'Neill about you. He said that you'd never heard of the Stargate, of the Asgard, of any of this until Thor beamed you directly into the SGC briefing room. O'Neill said that even though you knew nothing of them, the Asgard knew of you. Why?"
Sumner's eyebrows rose at that and raised a hand to cup his chin, eyes fixed on the girls. "And I believe it was mentioned that Thor was crucial in fashioning your new swords with which you've displayed such enthusiasm? The swords that the base has been buzzing about ever since Stackhouse described your sparring match in the mess?"
Faith winced and nodded.
"The inscriptions," McKay crowed. "The inscriptions on your swords that are in Ancient Norse that you said were personal. Thor was the one who inscribed them, right? You said it meant...it meant—" Canadian snapped his fingers, trying to remember.
"Into every generation, there is a Chosen One," Buffy and Faith chorused.
"And would the reasons Thor and the Asgard know of you, the reason you were brought to Stargate Command's attention in the first place, be related to your relationship with Illyria?" Sumner asked, eyes intent upon the young women.
Faith and Buffy glanced at each other and shrugged.
"There's a bunch of Ascended beings who ain't anything like the others you know. These ones directly opposed the Old Ones millions of years ago and didn't mind getting their hands a little dirty from time to time. They worked with the Nox and the Alterans to develop a weapon to fight the Old Ones, and the lesser creatures that fought for them," Faith explained.
"A weapon to fight the Old Ones," McKay repeated, "like your swords?"
"No, not the swords," Buffy said quietly. "You're missing the point of the inscription, Doctor. The blade is not the weapon. The weapon is the girl."
Dr. Weir and the others exchanged confused looks. McKay finally asked, with his usual sarcastic tone, "since you're both declaring yourselves the "Chosen One" may I remind you, Neo, that there are two of you. And Thor calling you "Chosen One" seems...out of character for him, for any Asgard for that matter."
Faith sighed, "Thor knows the stories, McKay, it's in their history. He knows what happened and how B and I fit in."
Buffy nodded. "When one girl dies, another is Called. On and on and on for thousands, or millions of years. See, not long after I got Called, a big nasty managed to drown me, but a friend managed to give me CPR, but I was dead just long enough for another to be Called," Buffy replied, "and when she died, Faith was Called. And thus, Chosen Ones."
"So you're a Chosen One," Weir said, with a voice laced with irritation. "I believe Rodney asked last night what you were chosen for? You just said that you were weapons, weapons for what? If the Old Ones are gone, why were you 'Called' at all?"
"Look, we don't actually go by that as a title. It's just a way to pretty up what the dirty reality actually is," Faith said, crossing her arms.
"We're Slayers, that's the best and most common way to refer to us as," Buffy nodded towards Faith. "And even though the Old Ones are gone, there are still plenty of leftovers to take care of. Their bastard offspring, hybrids, whatever. A lot of 'em originally came to Earth from other dimensions, some of which like to kill, eat, or maim humans in terrible and gruesome ways."
"Truth is," Faith added, "all those things that go bump in the night, they aren't made up, at least not all of them. B and I, the others who are in the know, we're the ones that keep them in line."
"Sunnydale," Sumner said suddenly. "Sunnydale is where you lived, where both of you lived for a time. The city which collapsed just days after you, Faith, broke out of prison. There was something there, wasn't there? The same something that attracted a rogue NID operation that no one will talk about?"
The Slayers dipped their heads in agreement.
"You said you were 'Called'," McKay asked, "through what mechanism? And what actually happened when you're Called? And for that matter...if all this is true, shouldn't you be on Earth?"
"Earth is very well protected now," Buffy said, "Sunnydale had a lot to do with that."
"Couldn't tell you how we're Called even if I wanted," Faith said, "but B and I, we were both plain old vanilla human until one day we're suddenly superheroes because some chick a thousand miles away just bit the dust. Bloodlines are part of it, but the PtBs have a hand in it, too."
"I'm sorry, PtBs?" McKay asked.
Buffy grimaced. "The Ascended beings Faith referred to earlier, they call themselves the Powers that Be. They just love to involve themselves without actually doing any real wetwork themselves. They're all about visions, prophecies, and having annoying people do their bidding."
Weir blinked. "Does the name 'Whistler' mean anything to you?"
Faith shook her head, looking confused.
Buffy however, groaned and let her head fall to the table with a loud 'thud'. She then looked up and gave the former diplomat her undivided, and not entirely friendly, attention. "Explain," the blonde demanded flatly.
Author's Notes: For Faith's gifts, I wanted it to be a combination of sentimental and kick-ass. A Knightly sword runs less than 3 feet in blade length and have an average weight of 2.4 lbs. The swords I'm giving Faith/Buffy are substantially longer (though not out of the realm for that type of sword) and would give them a weight closer to 3ish lbs each. I figure the combination of trinium and naquadah would result in a sword of similar weight (because super-light & super-dense materials = regular weight, right? For these swords, they do. So there). I initially wanted to them some badass shotgun (Saiga-12 hm?) or Buffy a pink LAW or something. But they're already hanging around guns so *shrug*
Most modern pistol grips are made out of G-10, which is close to carbon fiber in terms of strength and durability. Unlike most other materials, it does NOT conduct electricity. This was the material I referred to that the swords' grips are made out of.
Translations:
Í hverri kynslóð, það er valið eitt = In(to) every generation, there is a Chosen One.
As it turns out, there isn't any Ancient Norse to English translator that I could find. However, Icelandic is apparently supposed to be very, very close, so I used that. Also keep in mind that I used google translator so...yeah. I wanted to do Sumerian at first, or Latin, but there was no translator for the former and only bad translations for the latter.
As far as I know, Stackhouse was never given a first name, correct me if I am in error, but I figured Louis was nice and all-American. I always figured that Slayers were tough, but I never really looked to see how tough they were or how fast they healed. If you're curious about whether my timeframe for them to recover is at all accurate, check out the page on Slayers from the Buffy wiki. They are ridiculous.
I was tempted several times to shorten the conversation about Old Ones with Weir and Sumner to something like: "And they proceeded to tell him xxxx and then they finished." But I wanted this explanation to occur in each part of the story, just as a refresher because of the mixed canon interactions, and I wanted their reactions, I wanted the leaders of the expedition to show their shock, or outrage, or whatever, so I elongated it. Further explanations of the Slayer, Old Ones, vampires, or whatever will be considerably smaller. So yeah, biggest departure so far from SG:A is that Sumner lived, if you don't remember, it was Sheppard who pretty much took control of the military contingent, but Bates who took over internal security.