4

Acceptance

"Oh, for the mother of-," Doctor Carson Beckett muttered as he pushed another compress to the bleeding wound of his patient.

A soldier quickly walked up to him and aided him. "I've got it, doc. Tell me what I need to do?" he said kindly, even though he made it sound like an order.

Carson frowned as he gave the stoic middle-aged man, clad in khaki uniform, a silent thank you. He quickly moved around the patient to attend the wound received in the absurd yet raging battle for food and sanitary necessities.

The young soldier stretched out on the make-shift gurney and grimaced tightly as the doctor tried to stem the blood flow.

"Just hold on, son," Carson encouraged softly. "I know it hurts, but it'll be better soon – I promise."

The young man, barely above twenty, looked at him in despair but bravely nodded as the senior doctor gave him a faint but reassuring smile. He grimaced again and moaned, willing for the pain to go away.

Carson Beckett looked at him and decided that this was no man but a kid. He let out a quivering breath. The condition was delicate and it would be touch and go for the next couple of hours but he refused to give up – not now. He shared a serious look with the soldier standing next to him, both of them knowing that their situation was just as grim as the young man's injury.

They stood in a military camouflaged tent that provided next to zero insulation against the sun beating down on them. The African continent was large and divided when it came to climate zones and could be fairly pleasant. However, the nowhere-land-location where the small military force from the UN were currently stationed showed no mercy. Temperatures usually rose above and well-beyond 30 degrees Celsius in the early spring.

Carson's light complexion was scarlet and small blisters had appeared within a few days after his arrival as he'd went out on the field for a few hours. To the astonishment of the military commander of the squad, the Scottish doctor hadn't uttered more than a single complain. A respect had started to grow ever since they'd first shook hands at the small airfield when the UN doctor had been flown in, together with a mix of supplies.

The nation was in uproar, Ebola was raging thorough the population and the sanitary efforts were poor amongst the natives. Resources were spread thin and food was soon a luxury no one could find if something wasn't done within a few days. The crops had dried because of the heat and the animals could barely be sustained. Carson had been mesmerized by what he was seeing at first. He had forgotten how harsh and unpleasant human conditions could be on his own planet. Used to treat various misfortunate people back in Pegasus he wasn't unfamiliar with the sight, just shocked beyond words that so little money and humanitarian help was coming this way.

While it wasn't a war zone, it was still dangerous territory, and the young soldier had been trying to stave off some protests when he'd been fired upon by a toothless, scrawny man who'd been desperate to get food for his family. Carson felt sorry for the native but couldn't accept that he'd shot someone over a piece of bread.

Every now and then he kept drawing parallels to the Wraith, the Bola Kai, the Hoffans and the rest of the people of the Pegasus Galaxy. From time to time, he compared all the troubles they'd encountered there to what he was facing now, even though, it didn't exactly make him any wiser.

He enjoyed helping out wherever he could and working as a doctor for the UN and several other organizations that offered humanitarian help to those in need made him feel alive. He felt that he was contributing to a better place. However, he missed Pegasus and he missed Atlantis but most importantly he missed the people; his friends and extended family.

'Maybe', he thought. 'Maybe, when this crisis was over, he should take some leave and visit a few friends. Or maybe he should ask General Landry for a one-way ticket to Pegasus whenever the Daedalus was due to leave.'

OOOOOO

One year, four months and twenty-one days after the second homecoming.

Richard Woolsey sighed as he unlocked the door to his apartment in New York and went inside. He threw the keys on the bench inside the door, threw a quick glance in the mirror and grimaced at the tired face that greeted him. He gently loosened his tie and unbuttoned his tailored suit jacket as he made his way through the large flat and headed to the combined kitchen and living room. Manhattan was lively wherever he looked in the early evening and city lights practically pulsated down below. He couldn't make out a single individual from the twenty-seventh floor even though the windows stretched from floor to ceiling but he didn't mind, it was the constant myriad of life that calmed him.

With a faint smile, he walked over to pour himself a glass of whiskey and put on some classical music. As he breathed in the aroma of the liquid he tried to recall when he'd last been home. With a sad smirk he realized that he simply didn't remember and made his way over to his favorite armchair.

New York was the city where all had begun; his career, his life. It was the city where he'd practiced as an appellate advocate. After that he'd been assigned by Senator Kinsey to investigate SG-1 and Stargate Command. A world he couldn't even imagine to exist began to reveal itself for him and, in the end, he'd reported the Senator for his involvement in the Trust. Because of his actions then, the President hand-picked him for the role as United States ambassador in the IOA committee.

Richard shook his head as he let out a mirthless chuckle. He clearly remembered the day after the Battle of P3Y-229 when he'd went to General Landry, trying to get the man to see reason, arguing for the cause of bringing Atlantis only ZPM to Earth because it was needed there. In his defense, he didn't know better back then but he still shuddered at the consequences it would have had on the Atlantis Expedition.

It wasn't until later, when he visited the city to evaluate Doctor Elizbeth Weir's performance, that he understood what it was like to live and work in the Pegasus Galaxy.

He found himself wondering what he would have said if someone had told him back then that he'd spend a year as the leader of the Atlantis Expedition. He remembered trying to go by the book; trying to abide to the rules of the IOA and laughed bitterly. IOA simply had no idea what it was like to be at the frontlines – you didn't abide to rules – you made them up the best you could in order to survive.

Richard sighed deeply as he reached up to rub at his forehead. It had been over a year now and Atlantis was still sitting anchored outside San Francisco. The IOA committee members had congratulated him, rubbed their hands and excitedly began to plan for a way to keep the city on Earth for as long as possible – trying to integrate the Lantean defenses to the outposts on the planet.

The various ambassadors at the IOA had began to fight each other for access; the main reasons were the shield system and the drone weapons. Several world leaders – those with the knowledge of the secret Stargate Program – were concerned that knowledge of such advanced systems and modifications of the systems could be used on Earth, against one another, which in turn lead to several diplomatic crises behind locked doors. All the while the SGC and Homeworld Command fought for the release of the Lantean city and its return to the Pegasus Galaxy.

His musings were rudely interrupted by the doorbell and he blinked, trying to focus on the present, while slowly making his way across the apartment to answer the door.

Richard groaned inwardly as IOA Director, Doctor Carl Strom, gave him a curt nod before barging in.

"By all means," Woolsey muttered. "Feel yourself at home."

"I heard you attended a meeting earlier today – something about negotiating for a release of Atlantis?" Strom stated coldly as he began to pace the combined kitchen/living room.

"The decision to postpone the departure of Atlantis is not taken lightly at SGC and Homeworld Command and certainly not amongst the members of the Atlantis Expedition," Woolsey replied, keeping his voice neutral and diplomatic.

"It doesn't matter," Strom argued. "You are not representing them – you are representing our great nation at the IOA committee. I didn't think I'd have to remind you of that."

Richard stepped into the path of the IOA Director and fixed him with a glare. "Then I'll have you know that the President is troubled. General O'Neill presented a very good case yesterday when he argued that Atlantis is much more useful to Homeworld Command when it is operational. The city is – after all – a marvel of technological advancements and a great asset in battle."

"We have been pouring money into that city for years," Strom reasoned. "It's about time we get something back."

Woolsey took a step back to allow him to keep pacing the room.

"Do you know the demands of SGC, Richard?" he asked sourly. "Do you know what kind of money it takes to keep the place up and running? Do you know what it costs when the operatives expose our planet to hostiles?"

"If we cannot explore our surroundings, then what?" Woolsey asked curiously. "Mankind has always been curious, eager to learn new things."

"Very altruistic," Strom mocked and began to clap his hands. "The people on Earth are more interested in NASAs venture to March. More importantly the rich people of this part of the world doesn't even care about third nations in Africa; why would they care about people in another galaxy?"

"Then, forgive me for asking, why are we chasing Destiny?" Woolsey asked.

Doctor Strom smiled as he stopped and turned to face Woolsey, pointing at him. "That, my friend, is because Doctor Rush is confident that he'll find Destiny while tapping into that energy dense planet. The Icarus Base was not built because IOA wanted it to be built – as you well know, Richard. If I remember correctly, several of the committee members expressed their objections when SGC presented the figures for the upcoming project."

"And you'll have to forgive me for not knowing the specifics about that since I was stationed at Atlantis at the time of that discussion," Woolsey replied.

Doctor Strom gave a causal shrug of indifference. "I've been talking to Camille Wray, our representative at Icarus-,"

"I know who she is," Richard interrupted.

"Very well then," Strom said. "Then you should also be aware that during that discussion she told me to have high expectations. Doctor Rush believes he is close to solving the problem. She expects us to bring the senator and his daughter over there as soon as possible so that they can prepare for the trip."

Woolsey shook his head with dismay. The senator was rich and powerful and aimed to be world renowned as soon as the Destiny Expedition was to be made public knowledge. He was one of the largest contributors, moneywise, behind the Icarus project and a man fascinated by the Lantean search for something greater – a pattern in the Universe. 'Was the senator looking for God?' Woolsey wondered. 'Was that what the Lanteans searched for, or was it something else entirely?'

Richard shook his head and sighed as he reached up to rub at his aching temples. "Aren't there some other senator or king somewhere who wants to visit a flying city? Preferably someone rich?" he asked dryly.

"Now, now, Woolsey," Strom cautioned. "To claim Atlantis has been found in another galaxy and flown back to Earth would seem so far-fetched to the people that it won't get credibility. The Destiny story will be first-page news all over the world. Our expedition might find the key to the universe. That's a pretty big thing. The incomes from that story will be enough to finance the SGC for years."

"And what if it fails?" Richard dared coldly. "Would that be the end of the Stargate program?"

A heavy and uncomfortable silence settled over the two occupants in the room as they stared at each other.

After a while Doctor Strom broke into a sly smirk. "At this moment, no one knows," he said. "I just wanted you to know the latest developments before our committee meeting next week."

Woolsey sighed.

"No more meetings concerning the release of Atlantis," Strom cautioned as he made to leave.

OOOOOO

One year, five months and thirteen days after the second homecoming.

Radek Zelenka unbuckled his seatbelt and made to stand in the passageway, carefully retrieving his luggage from the storage above his seat. It was the third time he got back to his native country and the capital of Czechia – Prague – since Atlantis had safely landed in the waters outside San Francisco. He had welcomed the opportunity to come and work at the SGC whenever his knowledge was needed and so far, Doctor Jackson had kept him more than busy with his new findings across the galaxy.

Unlike Doctor Rodney McKay, Radek wasn't an astrophysicist even though he had been studying certain areas of that field. The Czech scientist was foremostly a historian who'd gotten a post doctorate in long-lost civilizations at Cambridge University. That was one of the main reasons he'd taken up a job at Louvre, France, and found the dialing device all those years ago – the one he'd contacted Doctor Daniel Jackson about. Apart from those fields, Radek was also good at temporal mechanics and mathematical computation. Being able to combine all those things had been an invaluable asset while working on Atlantis.

He was a man who appreciated the small things in life, trying to look at everything in a positive way. Maybe that was why he'd complemented Rodney so well. At least that was what Colonel Carter had said when she'd been in command of the city. Radek didn't want to dwell on it and he didn't want to look back because he was afraid that if he did; he'd miss the expedition terribly.

He stepped out of the airplane and felt a gust of warm wind tousling his unruly hair. It was a hot day in southern Europe today and the heat evaporated from the black asphalt on Václav Havels airport's busiest tarmac. He wasn't looking forward to queuing through customs, luggage pick-up and exits but he knew there was no way around it. Jet-lag was taking its toll on his body and he fought back a yawn as he finally went out to flag down a cab. He knew he should go back to the lab as soon as possible but he couldn't resist the urge to return to his flat for a couple of hours to sleep and eat. After that he'd go directly to his office in search for his girlfriend and assistant, Adrianka.

Radek sighed. He knew he had to say something to her that made sense. He couldn't just leave for the US every now and then without a proper explanation and she was a smart woman. It wouldn't take long for her to understand that he wasn't giving lectures at various universities. He really didn't know what kind of cover story he'd use but the main problem was that Radek didn't want to live a lie. He also didn't want to live alone for the rest of his life but he didn't want the trips to SGC to end either. He decided to postpone that talk for the seventh time.

OOOOOO

To be continued