NOTES: This was supposed to be a response to a challenge to write a shippy ficklet from a third party perspective, but Sora didn't care in the least what my intentions were and had too much to say for a 1000 word limit. Thank you, PurpleYin, for betaing this!
DISCLAIMER: Stargate: Atlantis and all things associated with it belong to other people.
SPOILERS: The Storm and The Eye
RATING: PG-13
DISILLUSION
The first thing Commander Kolya does is kill two Atlantians? Then he brushes off my protest? Something's not right.
Coming here is a means to an end; its beauty is irrelevant. Now is not the time for distractions. I know how crafty these people can be, but he's not going to listen. I'll do as I am told and secure the room. The place is open with many exits. Covering them all will thin out our men. Doesn't Kolya see this?
The two he killed must have radioed others before we gated through; within a minute a pair of Atlantians walk into our midst -the braggart McKay and a woman, both unarmed.
"What the hell is going on?" The woman's voice is commanding and loud, as though her indignation will change her circumstance. McKay seems to have been rendered speechless in his surprise.
"Doctor Elizabeth Weir." Kolya says it as calmly as though this is a social event.
Was it intelligence gathered from Manera or deduction that led Kolya to conclude the woman with McKay is Weir?
"Yes." Their leader is a woman? Is the tremor in her voice fear or anger? What was that look McKay gave her? I didn't quite see.
"And you must be Doctor McKay."
McKay says nothing, so I confirm it's him. If looks could kill, I'd surely be dead.
It must have been anger in Weir's voice; I see no fear in her eyes.
Weir sidesteps Kolya's question about Sheppard, still playing the indignant leader. Like McKay, she seems to be a person of words, so I'm sure when Kolya said that we are in control of Atlantis it is because words have power to these two.
It isn't true. We don't have control yet, but the Atlantians seemed shaken by the statement. They exchanged looks as though each expects the other to do something. Interesting.
Kolya has us take them to the control room while he inspects the area. Weir watches my men remove the bodies of hers with a regret suitable for a leader. Behind her, McKay watches everything else. He stays close to her, almost as though he's offering support, but I think it's the other way around. She is strong; he is weak. But he is also very clever. He was so talkative back home. What could his silence mean?
Kolya returns, and he, too, would be dead if McKay could kill with a glare. McKay seems to be taking this all very personally. Why? I lost my father. What does he have to lose?
"What have you done with the rest of my people?" Again, Weir impresses me with her concern for those under her authority. Kolya is accommodating with her questions. Is it because he feels no threat to our plan or because he thinks civil discourse will reveal something intimidation won't? She's too smart for that. Perhaps Kolya is so enchanted with this city that he doesn't care what she knows. Our plan is already in motion. I suppose it doesn't matter if we tell them how we got this far.
Knowing her people are safe, Weir is willing to discuss terms. Kolya uses the death of her men to emphasize our determination. Is that why he killed them? She actually seems ashamed when he mentions the Wraith device they stole from us. She claims the emergency that allowed us this chance to raid Atlantis will make meeting our terms difficult, but Kolya says he knows she's lying. No doubt her people need the same supplies we want, so her attempt at deception is to be expected. She's using the only advantage she has -knowledge of the city and situation- to try to dissuade us...or is it to slow us down?
Suddenly McKay is talking, hunching forward as he suggests defeatist accommodation. He called her Elizabeth. "None of that's worth dying for." McKay's action draws Ladon's attention. Kolya tells McKay to step away from the console. McKay nervously claims innocence. Combined with a quick glance from Weir, it makes me wonder what he might have done as he leaned on the terminal while distracting us with his words. There's no telling how long it will take Ladon to figure out what all this equipment does.
Weir returns to the topic at hand. "How do we know you won't kill us once we give you what you need?"
"You don't." Kolya is unapologetic.
That sparked fear in McKay's eyes, though Weir didn't even blink. Why does he look at her like that? What does he expect her to do? Or did that look mean something else?
Kolya wants Weir to show us where the supplies are. I escort her out of the control room, leaving McKay with Kolya and two of our larger men, though McKay's apparent lack of martial prowess suggests he doesn't need such a heavy guard.
For someone at the wrong end of a gun, Weir is awfully calm. If she was trying to stall earlier, why lead us so directly to the infirmary and lab containing the Wraith device? Both places are filled with a wealth of machines Ladon can only begin to guess at. Unlike him, my father and I worked with Wraith technology, not Ancient, yet even to my untrained eye, it's clear most of the devices are not of Ancient design. When I ask about Teyla, Weir guesses my name. Again, she uses words and reason, but I have no interest in being reasonable about my father's death. Still, she is persuasive.
Back in the control room, the men sent to retrieve the C4 arrive empty-handed, and McKay is bleeding. Weir does not seem surprised by what has happened. Is this why she didn't try to stall us as we collected the device and medicine?
I'm torn between disgust at Kolya's methods and a disturbing pleasure at McKay's suffering, as though he deserves to be punished just for knowing Teyla. Oddly, McKay's torture seems to have brought out the snide in him. Stranger still, he's apologetic to Weir about what's happened in her absence, avoiding her gaze where earlier he sought it. People act differently when they believe death is inevitable. Perhaps it was a mistake to have done this.
Major Sheppard left a radio where the C4 once was. He's been in the city the whole time. Knowing we want the C4 for our atomic weapons, he has hidden it, but if we release his people, he will give it to us. Even over the radio, the bantering quality of Sheppard's voice is clear; he seems confident his opponent will listen to reason. Kolya refuses the offer. McKay told him about a plan to save the city from the storm, and Kolya wants Atlantis. He offers Sheppard a choice -to deactivate the final grounding station and save the city or to let it sink.
McKay won't meet Weir's eyes. Always so arrogant, yet he is ashamed of his weakness in front of her. Is this why Kolya separated them? Did he suspect McKay would break more easily if he was alone, without Weir to draw strength from?
Kolya believes he is in control, so he indulges Weir's attempts to salvage what she can from this situation. Her words are sincere and reasonable. What if she's right? What if only her people can use Atlantis to its full potential? They are more advanced than us. But Kolya doesn't believe her and doesn't care about her talk of solidarity. Still, she keeps at it, as though she comes from a world where enemies can reason out their differences with words and compromises.
As far as we know, there are only three Atlantians left in the city -only three people capable of unlocking the final grounding station, which is vital to the city's survival. When Kolya authorized lethal force against Sheppard, I had to object. Not only would his death reduce our chances of success, it would be a breach of faith between military men. I can see the folly in this. Why can't Kolya?
There's panic in McKay's voice as he speaks out against possibly ruining the controls in a firefight. He is ignored, and that's exactly what happens. Plus, we've lost two of our men. McKay is clearly horrified at what the distant damage might mean. The city could fall because of this.
"I guess we're even." Sheppard's voice is at a yell to be heard through our radio above the storm.
"I don't like even."
"I'm not finished yet!" Sheppard, too, uses words as a tool. There is a reckless hitch to his voice.
"Neither am I." Yet Kolya seems to be speaking more to McKay than to Sheppard as he draws his gun on Weir, as though testing him. "Say good-bye to Doctor Weir."
"The city has a self-destruct button." I know Sheppard should not be taken lightly, even when so outnumbered. "If you hurt her, I'll activate it! Nobody'll get Atlantis!"
He would destroy the city because of one death?
"Even if it exists, Major, you need at least two senior personnel to activate it...and I'm about to take one of them out of the equation."
They're both fools. Why not take Sheppard's compromise? If the Genii can't have Atlantis, no one can? What is the sense of that? We might be able to access the secrets of Atlantis through a third party later; we'll gain nothing if Atlantis is destroyed.
"How is this going to help you get what you want?" Even now, Weir's voice is reasonable.
I agree with her and say so. We could have been done by now. Sheppard was somehow able to find and kill two men lying in wait for him, and we don't have a clue as to how he did it. What other technological tricks might we fall prey to in our ignorance? It's obvious murdering the leader of such loyal and powerful people would have dire consequences.
McKay steps in front of Weir, words tumbling from his mouth as though his life depends on them, which they do. Yet it is only after a gush of words for her that he speaks on behalf of his own life.
He warned us what might happen, and he was right. He was completely open with his knowledge back home, and he is plainly afraid.
For the first time, I actually catch a flash of fear in Weir's eyes. McKay's gesture is desperate, but it is also dramatic. Even in my detachment, I can't help but feel a small thrill. That any man would step in front of a gun for me could not leave me unmoved. He is a man; she is his leader. Such a deed could almost be expected, but I have seen the overwhelming strength of McKay's sense of self-preservation. To have so daring an action come from such a weak man makes it all the more potent. He must care for her very deeply.
Did Weir not know? Does she reciprocate his feelings? She is a leader and in strict control of her emotions. It would be inappropriate to show such things and an advantage for us if she did. Yet she places a reassuring hand on McKay's back. Kolya cannot see it.
After torturing the man, Kolya seems to think he has some insight into McKay and believes his words for now. Did Kolya know McKay would risk his life to save Weir? If so, what did he gain by all this?
"Rodney." Weir does not call him McKay. Her voice silences him, calms him. "Rodney, he gets it."
After Kolya leaves, she tries to thank me, as though my words had some impact on Kolya's decision.
"You're an asset we need to complete this mission."
I don't want to be here. I don't want to see this, to see them. There is no place in my life for such soft emotions. I have other issues to attend to, so I leave. Yet I can not escape the feeling this mission is only going to get worse. Perhaps Kolya underestimates Weir because she is a woman and speaks of unity. Perhaps he underestimates McKay because he broke under torture. My intuition tells me they're better at this battle of words and information than Kolya is, and together they are stronger than when they are apart. Yet Kolya intends to take them both to repair the grounding station.
This was supposed to be a quick and decisive raid. We have killed; we have tortured; we have lost men. And what has it gained us? Just enemies with more determination than before. I don't care about this city or these people. I just wanted to avenge my father, but it seems I won't even have that satisfaction. Why did I come?
Ladon figures out that one of the control room machines displays people as dots on a map, and he can use it to guide our soldiers to Sheppard. This must be how Sheppard took out the men at the grounding station. Ladon sends three, but somehow, Sheppard manages to kill them all. We know they're dead because their dots disappeared. It is a blow to us all, but I can tell Ladon is taking it particularly hard since it was his plan. We have invaded his home, and Sheppard believes we have killed his leader, an unarmed woman. My men can expect no mercy.
When I report this to Kolya, he orders us to fall back to the control room. Finally a sensible command, followed by a second. I'm relieved to radio Chief Cowen to send a company to reinforce our men. Maybe then we'll have a chance of taking this city like Kolya wants. Of course, if he was thinking about seizing Atlantis in the beginning, why not bring that many at the start?
While we wait for the company to be assembled and gated to us, Ladon and I follow Sheppard's movements on the big map. Sheppard stops in a room with a different kind of dot, then suddenly all the lights go out. The power to the control room has been cut. Ladon believes there are five small generators powering different parts of the city, and Sheppard has deactivated one of them. Only primary systems are left; the map is a secondary system. Now we have no idea where Sheppard might be -a prospect that does not bolster my confidence.
Kolya disregards my suggestion to protect the other generators in favor of keeping the control room secure until reinforcements arrive, but when the power to the grounding station McKay's fixing is cut, Kolya changes his mind. He is not interested in the possibility of reevaluating our objectives, so now we have to hold the control room with even fewer men.
With the humidity rising because of the storm, I remove my jacket as Ladon wonders aloud my own thoughts. How were we expected to take a place this big without a whole company to begin with?
At last, the reinforcements are arriving! There is a noise and a strange shimmer over the Gate followed by a horrible thudding sound as the men stop coming through. It's the shield! Turning to command Ladon to shut it off, I see Sheppard at the Gate controls. The men fire at him, to no avail. I call home to have them stop sending men, to no avail. I try to deactivate the shield, to no avail. Kolya tries to get his prisoners to tell him how to turn it off, to no avail.
Finally, the Gate shuts down. Only five men made it though, five of sixty. The massive loss of life leaves me with a hollow feeling while my complete helplessness to prevent it causes me to shake with impotent fury. But I have no time for such feelings. I must push them aside as best I can and focus on what can be done.
In the control room, Ladon's unconscious but alive. He's the only one of us with technical skills that are of any use in dealing with Ancient technology. Why did Sheppard spare him while coolly killing so many others by activating the shield? Once Ladon wakes up, he looks over the Gate console. Sheppard's locked us out, but Ladon thinks he can eventually regain control. At least that's something.
I'm surprised when Kolya asks about a single man in the company. It seems it was important to him that this one man survive. But I have to tell him the truth; the man is dead. It's the first time I've heard anything but cold confidence from Kolya. He seems to be taking the losses personally, which means it could cloud his judgment. Wouldn't Kolya have done the same defending our home? Then he has the gall to declare it unacceptable that it could take a hour to fix the controls. Maybe if he'd taken one of the Atlantians' earlier offers, we wouldn't be stuck in a city about sink with no way out. Ladon is working as fast as he can to give us a chance at survival.
Kolya contacts Sheppard with an ultimatum -repair the grounding station's generator or Weir then McKay die. While revealing that Weir is alive gives Kolya another bargaining chip, admitting he didn't kill her shows weakness. I would only have admitted to having McKay, but Weir is both their leader and a woman...
Because we know which generator Sheppard will be going to, even with only five reinforcements, four if you subtract the raiding party member Sheppard shot while fleeing the control room, there are enough men to send some to ambush him as well as keep the Gate room secure. The trap works, and I head down. As I approach the generator, I hear a familiar voice that causes my breath to seize in my chest. Teyla Emmagan! Others have somehow arrived to aid Sheppard, and she is among them! Another voice is that of Lieutenant Ford; the third I don't recognize. His speech is strange. Perhaps he is like Teyla, an ally they have gained since their arrival in our galaxy.
The generator is repaired, the obvious course of action is for me to follow them. When I contact Kolya with the information, he tells me to fall back to the control room. I will not fall back when avenging my father's death is within my grasp. After all, where has Kolya's guidance gotten us? Wanting no more distractions, I turn off my radio.
I hear their plan. Although Teyla wants to fight with Sheppard, she and the new person, Beckett, will fly a ship into the Gate room as a distraction while Sheppard and Ford rescue McKay and Weir. The most tactically sound choice would be to follow Sheppard and Ford, but I subdue that impulse and lie in wait for Teyla and Beckett in a storage room they must pass through to reach their ship. This Beckett is no martial man; I easily hear him coming and knock him out. Then, at last, I see my vengeance before me.
Teyla is holding one of the Atlantian weapons, aiming it at me with its light in my eyes. She is confident of her own safety, so I aim my gun at the man at my feet. She sets down her weapon, but shooting her would be too easy. Dropping my gun, I draw my father's knife. The hiss of it escaping its sheath is like the confiding whisper of a friend. It will be fitting for his knife to take the life of the one responsible for his death, and I want this to last. All the while, she talks, trying to reason with me like Weir, but Teyla's voice isn't calm -it's emphatic. She is incredulous and wants me to believe what she says, but I can barely hear her above the pounding of my heart. She has known me all my life; she does not want this. But I have struggled and trained and persuaded and fought so I might have this opportunity; words will not dissuade me.
Teyla is fast, but I manage to land the first cut. It makes my pulse race. Our fight is like a blur, an unchoreographed dance of blades and blows. Every kick and punch I land heightens my resolve; I barely feel the hits I take in return. But having been on edge all day has taken its toll. Teyla pauses to drop her knife in disregard, yet even weaponless she gets the better of me, pinning me to a window with my father's knife at my throat.
"This is not what your father would have wanted!" she insists. "Our people were destined to be allies."
A voice echoes over the intercom, but I cannot focus on it.
"This must end now!" demands Teyla.
If I can not have revenge, then I would prefer death, but Teyla will not give it to me. Throwing my father's blade to the ground, she turns to help her comrade escape the lightening that will soon fill the corridors of Atlantis. It is as though my rage is her shadow. It leaves me to follow her, and I am left shaking and empty against the storm-rattled window. I have failed, but with this reprieve from my hate, some reason leaks in. There is no point to my dying if I can avoid it. Numb, I stumble after Teyla, helping her lift the half-conscious Beckett and carry him to the control room.
The other Atlantians are there; my people are gone. Weir and McKay are both drenched. The ringing in my ears from Teyla tossing me keeps me from following everything they say, but it seems McKay's plan has worked. As the city's shield goes up, the sounds of the storm diminish behind it. Their triumph and relief are almost palpable.
"Nice work, Rodney." Weir smiles as she says this, as though he has accomplished some trivial feat.
"Did you ever doubt me?" McKay is out of breath.
"Yes. Several times."
How can they speak so lightly to each other after everything they've been through? It's as though the storm has unhinged their senses.
"I see you've made a new friend, Teyla." Although he shot at me just an hour earlier, Sheppard seems almost pleased that I am alive.
Teyla spared me when she had every right to kill me. She valued my life when I did not. Maybe she's right. Maybe father wouldn't have wanted this for me. I feel grudgingly indebted to her.
The medical area is part of the city that is shielded from the lightening running through the halls of Atlantis. Weir instructs Ford to take Teyla, Beckett, McKay and I to the infirmary, but McKay objects to leaving the control room unattended. Sheppard asks McKay what he thinks he could do if something does go wrong, and Weir insists he needs to have his arm tended to. It is as though the storm washed all thought of the wound out of McKay along with the blood from his dripping clothes. Even in my daze, I find this strange. Perhaps he is not as weak as I thought, or perhaps he is insane.
Before we leave, Weir expresses how sorry she is that everything turned out the way it did, that so many had to die. Despite all that has happened, she still hopes to come to an understanding with my people. Part of me wants to laugh at her naiveté, but a part of me is awed by her determination and resiliency. I understand why she is their leader.
McKay and I carry Beckett to the infirmary with Ford and Teyla guarding us. McKay and Beckett chatter away like two old women. From their talk I learn that Teyla, Ford and Beckett had been trapped on the mainland during the storm but escaped through its eye to come to Sheppard's aid. So when we were collecting the Wraith device, Weir had told me the truth about Teyla not being on Atlantis. I don't know why this matters to me.
Along the way, we pass the bodies of more of my men. Ladon and Kolya are not among them, but I am too drained for that knowledge to inspire any emotional response.
This man I knocked out is not only another Atlantian, he is the head of their medical staff. That must explain the different color of his uniform; it certainly explains why he's such an unskilled soldier. Beckett's instinct to help others is so innate that he instructs Teyla how to care for me even while he struggles to climb into one of the medical beds. The soothing, singsong quality to his speech is peculiar yet pleasant.
Ford tests both Beckett and myself, flashing a light in our eyes and asking us a string of fairly obvious questions, though Beckett does not answer all of them correctly. It turns out both Beckett and I have concussions; the doctor's is more severe.
Teyla tends to my injuries while Ford takes care of Beckett then Teyla. McKay, apparently having forgotten his wound again, has raided a store of food and drink from the doctor's office. Some of the food comes in the form of chewy, sweet bars in shiny wrapping. Thin, light and strong, the wrapping is unlike anything I've ever seen. The Genii are among the most advanced people in this galaxy, and since I can't imagine anything from Atlantis would be edible after so many years, I must assume these bars in their unusual casings are from the new Atlantians. Such a unique resource, yet they seem to take it for granted.
The bars are not wholly pleasing, but there is also a tin of cookies. McKay even makes a pot of tea, though Beckett is unimpressed with the results. They all treat me well, despite everything that has happened. It seems unreal, four wounded and a guard all but having a tea party in an infirmary while a storm that could sink the city we're in rages outside.
To pass the time, McKay tries to start a numbers game, where your opponent guesses if the number you say is prime or not. No one will humor him; Beckett uses his concussion as an excuse. Thwarted, McKay sets up one of Beckett's machines so he can monitor the shield from the infirmary. Still he has not tended to his wound. Is it pride? Is it shame? Is it something else I can't even guess at? I can not help but wonder why. Yet why should it matter to me? Am I ashamed of what happened to him? Am I upset that I didn't see it coming?
At last, the worst of the storm passes. Once the halls are safe, Ford and Teyla escort me to their brig. They put me in a comfortable room with windows of colored glass too narrow to climb through, too sturdy to break. I have never had a room with windows. This will be my home until Weir can persuade the Genii to see her version of sanity or the Wraith take the city. I can not imagine leaving any other way.
Before they leave, Teyla embraces me as she used to in the time before the Atlantians, like a friend, like a sibling. Then she holds me at arm's length, her white bandages contrasting plainly against the bare skin of her arm where I cut her. "All human life is precious," she tells me solemnly. "That is doubly true now that the Wraith have awakened. You and I are all that is left of our families. I know how you feel, Sora. My father would not have wanted his legacy to be hate; I do not believe Tyrus would have wanted that either. If you can not let go of your hate, at least treasure your life as your father treasured it."
They leave me with those words. Now I am alone with sounds of the fading storm. Perhaps it is the concussion. Perhaps it is the fatigue of a day that has pushed me past my emotional and physical limits. I have never been a spiritual person, yet I can't help but wonder how the Atlantians managed to accomplish so much with so few. Could we have ever saved this city from the storm as they did? Perhaps Atlantis was waiting for these people from another galaxy. Perhaps the Ancestors wanted it this way. Perhaps this is how it was meant to be.
I have plenty of time to contemplate the matter.
