AN: First, thank you for the reviews! This story is set in early season two, and as such we haven't seen anything of the character Caldwell. In using him, I'm taking some interpertations of what he may be like, so take it for what it's worth. I'm also going with the assumption that Weir is no longer in 'command' but retains her position, just without the final say-so. Also, this is a Atlantis-centric fic, meaning all the characters are featured and it's not just from one character's POV. This will probably resemble an episode more than anything (at least I hope)!

2.

"The last thing you remember is leaving Atlantis?" clarified Beckett. He wanted to be certain he had his facts straight.

Sheppard was sitting on a gurney in the infirmary, stripped back down to his t-shirt and pants. "That's about it. I walked into the gate, and next thing I know I'm staring up at a Hoffan doctor asking me if I'm all right."

Beckett scribbled some notes, frowned, and set the clipboard down. He pulled the blood pressure cuff off the wall fixture that it hung on, and strapped it on the Colonel's arm, his hand hovering over Sheppard's arm when the man flinched. "Did that hurt?"

Sheppard shook his head. "No, just, startled me," he explained.

Beckett didn't say anything, but he made a mental note that Sheppard seemed unusually jumpy since his return. He pumped the cuff, and frowned again at the readings. "Bit high," he murmured, more to himself than anything, but Sheppard looked alarmed.

"It's okay," assured Beckett. "I'd say it's a normal reaction to being kidnapped, and returned without your memory intact."

Sheppard didn't seem mollified, but he didn't say anything.

"Any other symptoms other than memory loss?"

Beckett watched his patient carefully, looking for signs of hesitation, or half-truths. Sheppard tended to internalize his feelings, and that included physical as well as mental. He could be hurting a lot, and still brush it off as nothing important.

Sheppard felt like a bug under a microscope. "Tired," he answered reluctantly.

"Aye," Beckett nodded, pleased because he'd admitted to the obvious. "I found some bruising around what looks like an injection site. I'm running some blood tests," Beckett paused and touched the area on Sheppard's shoulder so he could see for himself where the site was, "but my guess is anything used is probably metabolized out of your system already."

"They drugged me?" Sheppard asked. He was surprised, but he didn't know why. Every civilization had their dirty secrets. Maybe he'd found theirs. But why had they let him go if that was the case?

Beckett nodded, and removed the cuff from Sheppard's arm, stuffing it back in the holder. He folded his arms, and regarded the Colonel; not liking what he knew would be the reaction. "I'll need you to stay overnight," he said.

Sheppard's face changed from puzzled to annoyed, "I'd rather not."

That elicited a soft chuckle from the Doctor. "I'm sure you wouldn't, but until I have all the results back, I need to keep an eye on you."

"Great," said Sheppard, knowing that Beckett was right, but it didn't make him any happier. He had an intense need to escape to his quarters, and find some privacy. He couldn't explain it, but it was there. Maybe he just needed to be around his own things, and know that whatever had happened, he'd made it back home, and was safe. He wasn't going to admit that to anyone, though. It wasn't his nature.

Beckett patted his arm with understanding. Sheppard didn't have to explain; Beckett was a lot smarter than anyone gave him credit for. "Get into the scrubs, I'll have Rodney bring you a laptop to keep you busy."

Sheppard looked over to the folded infirmary clothes. It could be worse, he supposed. "Fine, but make sure he brings the one with space invaders loaded," he said, reaching for the article of clothing.

Beckett waved a hand as he walked away, showing Sheppard that he'd heard him. Sheppard sighed, and slid off the bed, the shirt of the burgundy scrubs in one hand, and he drew the privacy curtain shut with his other hand. He realized he had to put the top back down, in order to get out of his own clothes.

He tossed it back on to the gurney, and tugged his t-shirt over his head, letting it drop to the floor. He unbuckled his belt, and began to slide the pants off, and when he did so, he saw a vial fall out of his pocket. He picked it up, squinting at the object. He knew what this was…didn't he? He was about to call out for Beckett, when something distracted him, and he palmed the vial, sliding it back into his side pocket, before picking up the discarded uniform and folding them into a roll. He slid into the scrubs, and didn't give the vial another thought.


"And you're certain that he's okay?" asked Elizabeth. She was sitting beside Teyla, and across from Beckett. Caldwell sat at the apex of the curved table.

Beckett didn't look certain, quite the opposite. "I can't say for sure, but physically he's tired, suffering memory loss, jumpy," he paused and glanced at his notes. He was trying to figure out how to phrase his concerns in a way that wouldn't cause undue alarm. "What I'm trying to say, is from everything we can tell, Colonel Sheppard will be fine." The words he left unspoken were the things they couldn't tell. A lot could be done to a body that wouldn't show externally.

Caldwell knew, though, Beckett could tell. The stern Colonel had his hands folded, and he was feigning aloofness by concentrating on a loose cuticle. Beckett didn't think anyone at the table bought the act.

Caldwell pierced Beckett with a pair of deep blue eyes, when he looked away from his hands. "Is that a guarded estimate, Doctor Beckett?"

"Yes," admitted Beckett reluctantly. "I'm keeping him for observation."

Elizabeth felt temporarily at a loss. The undercurrents flowing between Caldwell and Beckett were tangible. She knew there was resentment, but she needed her…his…people to maintain professionalism, and focus on the issue at hand. "How soon till you can say for certain?"

"Twenty-four hours," Beckett replied, closing Sheppard's chart.

Teyla frowned, but she didn't say what was on her mind. Caldwell picked up on the subtle change. "Is there something you wish to add, Teyla?" he pressed.

Teyla looked reluctantly at Beckett, before looking back at Caldwell. She shifted in her chair, clearly uncomfortable. "Is that enough time to make sure they have not altered the Colonel in some manner?" she asked, admitting her fear. Sheppard had been gone for eighteen hours. Hours that he didn't remember, and there had to be a reason for his lack of memory.

Elizabeth nodded, having considered the same implication. "I agree. Could they have brainwashed him in that time? Maybe sent him back to sabotage the city?"

Beckett had thought about that, but from the brief training he'd had on the subject, it didn't seem likely. "Not unless they are more technologically advanced than we are, and we know that isn't true," he pointed out. "It takes days to program someone like Sheppard. He wouldn't convert without a lot of time, and there would be definite physical signs of the process."

Caldwell sided with Beckett. He'd been around this kind of thing in his past, and he knew from years of serving in the military that brainwashing wasn't accomplished in eighteen hours. "Doctor Beckett is right. They didn't have him long enough to program anything." He considered another thought. "Is it possible they injected him with a virus of some kind? Would that show?"

Beckett knew they weren't going to like his answer. "Not necessarily, viruses are tricky. Some, like the common cold, have short incubation periods and make themselves known immediately. Others, like HIV, could install themselves in a healthy cell, and coast until a trigger is received," he explained. He saw the dismayed reactions. "It's unlikely the Hoffans would do something like this," Beckett rushed on, trying to ease their concerns. "The vaccine they were using was not viral in nature; it behaved more like a bacterial infection. It wasn't contagious," he frowned. "Actually, it was more a combination of a virus and a bacteria; the point being, injecting the Colonel wouldn't cause it to spread when he was returned to us."

"So that wasn't their intent," Caldwell said. "Right?"

Teyla was growing impatient. "Does it matter their intent? They abducted the Colonel, and kept him, at the very least he was drugged. Should we not go back there and demand answers?"

Elizabeth watched Caldwell's reaction. She knew what she would say. She'd order a team back to Hoff, and hope that by placing pressure on the Chancellor, they could convince him to cooperate and reveal what had happened to Sheppard. But it wasn't her call, not anymore. She could advise, though. "If we sent back another team, they could…encourage…Chancellor Druhin to investigate."

Beckett stared slack-jawed at Elizabeth's implication, before stilling his surprise. It would seem everyone had been hardened by the past year. "I could use any help you can give. Bottom line, unless the Colonel remembers, it's unlikely we'll ever know what their goal was," he said. "At least, not until the trap is sprung," amended Beckett.

Caldwell came to a decision. "Do it. Make sure they stay together at all times, and stay armed and ready. We don't need anyone else to disappear without a trace," he ordered. "And Doctor Beckett, don't release Sheppard until so ordered, is that clear?"

Beckett was on the verge of protesting, but deep down, he knew it had to be done. They couldn't take the risk, and while the doctor side of him hated to do that to Sheppard, the growing military side within knew it was the right course of action. "Aye," he whispered unhappily. The meeting was over, leaving everyone with a sour taste.

As they filed out, Teyla asked Beckett if Sheppard was up for visitors. He told her not only was Sheppard up for visitors, but if she could entertain the Colonel for a while, the staff would probably be eternally grateful.

He watched Teyla leave, and turned to Elizabeth. "Encourage?" he repeated.

"Gently encourage," she elaborated, unperturbed. She left for her office, and Beckett watched her go, not entirely convinced that all the changes were for the better.


Teyla stood at the base of the stairs, holding her weapon tensely, despite it being attached to her vest. She knew what they were going to do. Their mission was to find out what exactly had happened to Sheppard in those missing eighteen hours. If it was a conspiracy that spiraled all the way up the chain to the Chancellor himself, this could most likely be a very dangerous mission.

She'd visited Sheppard earlier, but had found him sleeping. She'd remained, watching him for a little while, before getting ready for the mission back to Hoff. He'd looked peaceful, and it had served to reassure her, but at the same time, cause a new level of concern deep inside. Something had happened to him, and she intended to find out.

She looked over at the four new marines, and she felt a sharp pang of regret that Lieutenant Ford was not here. She didn't know these men like she knew Ford, and Sheppard…even McKay, though he wasn't a soldier. McKay had asked to remain behind. Teyla knew he was keeping a close eye on Sheppard, though he wouldn't admit it. He kept finding reasons to stop by the infirmary. Beckett was supplying him with a lot of those reasons. She also knew it wasn't entirely selfish reasons for it. They were watching him like a lab experiment, noting every reaction, and watching for any sign that something wasn't right.

"Teyla, is your team ready?" Elizabeth called from the command console.

Teyla looked up, and returned her steady gaze, and gave a slight nod. "We are," she replied. The marines were new; green, Sheppard had called them. When she'd wondered about the reference he'd explained it meant their skills were untested in the field. Because they were green, Colonel Caldwell had ordered them to defer to Teyla's expertise in this mission. She'd been surprised. Everett had offered a modicum of respect, finally, but she doubted even he would have gone so far as to give her control of this mission. It was another peg in the conundrum that Caldwell was turning out to be.

Doctor Weir didn't verbally acknowledge her, but she gestured to the technician to dial the gate. Teyla looked away, remembering the face that should've been there. So many losses, she wasn't going to let Sheppard become another casualty.

They gated uneventfully to the planet, and were met by the Chancellor and one of his new aides. The last one had died from the vaccine. They adjourned to the Chancellor's office.

"Chancellor, we must know who was involved in the Colonel's abduction, and why he was taken," insisted Teyla. "Doctor Beckett has found evidence that he was drugged. This is a very serious offense."

The four marines stood erect behind the chair where Teyla sat, which was across from the Chancellor's thick wooden desk. The Chancellor as a wily man, a lesson they'd learned before. Sheppard had mistaken him for a kind older gentleman, harmless and not a danger. It was only at the end that Sheppard had realized the level of deviousness on the Chancellor's part. Sheppard had confided his concerns that he'd been less than truthful to the Hoffan council.

She had learned that Sheppard had promised to accept their vote; whether it was to use the vaccine, or not. It was only later he'd wondered if he should've insisted on being present during the meeting. He'd found it inconceivable that any people knowing the truth would vote to continue the inoculations. She tended to agree with Sheppard's conclusion, and so she wasn't mislead by the Chancellor's innocent act now.

"We are investigating his disappearance," he said gravely, but then Druhin's features morphed into what reminded Teyla of a wily old fox. "But I must tell you, we've uncovered some disturbing information."

She bristled at his manner. "And what would that be?"

Druhin stood from his seat, and perched himself on the corner of his desk, leaning in towards Teyla, and towering over her. It was an act of dominance. He was reminding her who was in charge. "It seems your Colonel Sheppard was not in his room when he went missing," he casually picked up a paperweight that resembled a crystallized bug, studied it in reflective silence, and set it down before continuing. "In fact, I was told he was in a restricted area."

Teyla looked at the crystallized bug and wondered if there wasn't a hidden significance in his actions. Was he trying to convey that Sheppard was the bug that they knew about? Did he get caught, and they interrogated him to find out what he knew? Or did he see something he shouldn't have, and they didn't want him telling anyone. She forced a patient smile, and replied sweetly. "I am quite certain the Colonel was unaware of the nature of the area, and was instead merely out walking to stretch his legs."

Druhin shrugged, and returned to his seat. "Be that as it may, the military has their own methods of handling…intruders," he explained. He opened a file that had been lying on the desk, and began to skim the contents; every action had a subtle message to be conveyed to the Atlanteans. "You understand, of course."

"No, I do not," stated Teyla, her voice now cold at the implications from Druhin. "Are you telling me that as Chancellor you have no control over your own people?"

That hurt him, she could tell. He let the paper slip from his fingers, to the surface, and regarded her angrily. "I am saying, Miss Emmagan, that my people do not take kindly to our offers of friendship being returned by espionage, and that your Colonel got whatever he deserved." The Chancellor's speech came across as rehearsed, if not stilted.

Teyla felt the marines tense behind her. The mistake, the Chancellor had made, was forgetting that Teyla had led her people for many years before the people from Earth had arrived and changed everything. She knew about politics, and intrigue. She had dealt with many other worlds, and brokered agreements and alliances. Chancellor Druhin wasn't anything she hadn't seen or met before. "I see," she replied. She stood, allowing him to believe the conversation was over. "Then I believe we are finished."

"I believe so," he agreed frostily. He'd returned to perusing his paper, and scarcely acknowledged her.

He hadn't mentioned the vaccine, or anything related to the message that had been sent initially, when he'd requested renewed contact between their people. She knew what that implied. This had been a set-up, and they'd accomplished their goal. Since the only thing that had happened was Sheppard's abduction and return, whatever it was, centered on him, and those missing eighteen hours.

Teyla gestured for the men to leave the room, and wait outside. They left, and shut the door. She turned on Druhin, and walked to the side of his desk, slapping the paper from his hands to the desktop, and stared at him with restrained anger. "Chancellor, I will find out what you did to Colonel Sheppard, and when I do…"

Druhin lifted his paper, and tsked in a fatherly fashion. "When you do, you will do nothing," he began, but as he continued his voice rose in volume. "Your people are weak. Afraid to do what's necessary," he lifted his head, and returned her look, and Teyla was surprised by the suppressed fury. "Good Day, Miss Emmagan."

She stalked out, slamming the door behind her. Childish, but it felt good. She didn't even look to see if the marines were following her. Damn it all to hell, she thought angrily, because the Chancellor was right. Not that they were weak, but that they wouldn't do anything in retaliation. They had fought back only as much as needed with the Genii, and they'd let the Dagan's disappear with their only means of defense – it had been in their fingertips, and they'd walked away, respecting the Dagan's right to the ZPM. They could've returned with a force and taken it back, assuming they had time to find it again. But they didn't. It wasn't their way. Damn them, and this time she wasn't sure who she was damning.