Chapter 5: Caldwell's Reign

McKay was glaring at his cup of coffee. He was glaring at his coffee because he couldn't glare at Hobbes, who had taken care to make sure he was in the canteen at the exact same time as McKay – for every meal. He sat across at the other table with his thug-like friends, who were all appointed by Colonel Caldwell for the new Atlantis Reconstruction Team. The rest of them weren't that concerned with McKay, but Hobbes seemed to make it his business to get in his way at all times.

He really, really wanted to fix Hobbes with that glare. If he had mental powers beyond that of a normal human-being – which in most respects, McKay felt he did - the cup would have exploded into tiny shards…hopefully piercing Hobbes in the process. The thought alone made glaring at a cup of coffee seem worthwhile.

"Rodney, are you alright?"

McKay snapped out of his trance to find Teyla settling down into the chair in front of him.

"What? Yes? Fine." His eyes focused beyond Teyla; Hobbes was still there, smirking out of the corners of his eyes.

Teyla looked behind to verify whom McKay was staring at, saying: "Sorry I am late."

"It's fine," McKay said in a "not-really-there" voice.

"I just came from Col. Sheppard."

McKay's attention was now hers.

"He's barely holding up. He says that staying up for the length of the night was fine, but the next 24 hours…"

"Can't he just catch an hour or two in the middle of the night?" McKay rushed distractedly, not really considering Sheppard's problem. McKay had his own damn problems: Hobbes, fusion physics, and unification theory. To make matters worse, his list of three problems – a helpful little internal list he kept to structure his life – had never before contained anything outside of the realm of physics and science. Until now... It was a dark, dark day.

"Caldwell seems to have his "goons" on 24 hr monitor rotation."

"Hm," McKay gulped his coffee.

"Are you not concerned? If Col. Sheppard is unable to stay awake for the next 24 hours, Caldwell is going to return him to earth."

"Yes, yes," McKay made an irritated gesture, suddenly distracted by the oncoming of Hobbes, who was approaching McKay's table. He froze; remembering the last time Hobbes had threatened him. But Teyla nodded reassuringly to him.

Such conflict.

After last night's conversation with Sheppard, McKay was suddenly feeling trapped between a rock and a hard place. Fight his own battle with Hobbes like a man or get Teyla to fight it for him and walk away without damage to his perfect complexion? It seemed like an obvious answer, ie. A commoner's answer to things. McKay had to consider a few important facts, like how we were now living in a feminist society. With all things considering, Teyla should be fighting his battles; it was only fair. Another important point to consider was that McKay was one of the most – no, scratch that – the most valuable member of the Atlantis expedition. Why should he get his nose broken when there were other people perfectly worthless and capable of doing it for him?

Before he realized it, Hobbes had picked up McKay's handheld computer device that he had left forgotten on the table – owing that he had been staring at his cup of coffee.

McKay bolted upright in his chair. "Give that back."

Hobbes gave a blackened toothless leer that made McKay's stomach lurch. Honestly, how can you have blackened teeth AND toothlessness in this day and age of dental care? McKay was about to point this out when Hobbes spoke.

"Think I'll keep it," he snarled.

"No you won't. That has most of my research on it! Give it back," McKay could scarcely believe that he was now nose-to-nose with this sallow faced weirdo that he had never noticed in the city up until this whole Caldwell-thing.

Hobbes punched McKay square in the jaw, sending him backwards into the table. That's when Teyla jumped out of her seat and grabbed Hobbes by the front end of his shirt, giving him a right-hook and a good kick in the downward area. Hobbes crashed back into his goons and then on to the floor. She tore the device from his hands and pinned his neck into the floor, a fierceness darkening her face.

"End this now," She growled.

Hobbes looked like, for an instant, he was going to take her seriously, but then pushed her off. He casually got to his feet and the slimy smirk returned to his face.

"We'll see what Caldwell says," he gave them a little wink and made off.

"Let's get to Dr. Beckett," Teyla urged, helping McKay up.

Worried looks were exchanged in the canteen that morning…I felt you should know.

Back in the control room, just past noon, Col. Sheppard was still where he was; circling the deck with his hands clasped behind his back, iron-gripped jaw, and red-weary eyes. Yet no matter, he refused to yawn or show any signs of being tired in front of Caldwell, who was still skulking in the balconies with his sickening smugness. Indeed, he seemed in a better mood that day, and took to berating Sheppard any chance he got.

"Leave it to Mister Sheppard to awaken the Wraith…insolent fool…Leave it to Mr. Sheppard to screw up getting that ZMP back from those religious fanatics…Leave it to Mr. Sheppard to incur the hatred of so, so many planets and people. You know why you were the one who chose to take that jumper on a suicide mission into that Wraith ship? Hm?" He stepped up to Sheppard, matching his height.

Sheppard clenched his teeth, trying to breath slowly, eyes trained beyond Caldwell.

"Perhaps because you know that everyone here thinks you're a screw up. Leave it to Mister Sheppard to want to just run away and die like the cowardly fool he is! Yes…I'm just waiting, Mister Sheppard, to find out your plot and all who are involved; then you will be sorry. Think of this watch-duty as a warm-up."

Wow. Just. Wow. Even I wanted to beat the living flubbers out of Caldwell after that nasty bit, eh? I could just …press a few keys and kill him off, right then and there. But don't we want to see our hero prevail? Let's see what he does about this, himself.

Unfortunately, he doesn't do anything.

At that critical point, when his white knuckled fists were turning white from his resistance to throwing them at Caldwell, he glimpsed Weir up in the balconies of the control deck. She stared down at him with livid concern, knowing what Caldwell was up to.

Caldwell, squinted slightly, noticing Sheppard's upward gaze. He turned around. "Dr. Weir, you agree? This is a fitting punishment for such a mutinous officer?"

Weir tensed. "I don't see it fit for me to disagree with your orders, sir."

"I see, I see."

"Colonel Caldwell," she called, almost nervous, "Dr. Beckett, as you're aware, has begun a routine physical check-up for all officers the other day –"

"Yes, yes, an excellent way to isolate those on this city who are disturbed…and predisposed to engage furthermore in…mutinous activities," he glared at Sheppard.

"Er, yes, well, Dr. Beckett is wishing to see you now, sir."

Caldwell turned around again, vaguely surprised. "Me? I hardly think that – "

"Incase someone has er, done something to you, sir. Mutinous…somethings…"

Caldwell stroked his chin for a moment, considering this. "Yes, very well, I see how that could be a problem. Tell Dr. Beckett that I'm on my way."

Caldwell gave an evil glare to Sheppard before departing. Yes, you read that right. I'm quite certain the glare was evil, by all accounts. I guess you'd just have to see an evil glare to know what I'm talking about.

Sheppard slumped against the wall as soon as Caldwell was out of sight, blinking away the blurred exhaustion in his eyes. But it never went away.

Just twelve more hours.

"Hey, you there? Sheppard?" The whispering voice of McKay piped into his headset.

Sheppard's first instincts were to look wildly around before realizing that a scrambled call was being piped into his headset.

"Yes. Why are you whispering?" Sheppard whispered back.

A pause. "Why are you whispering?"

"Because you're whispering."

"Well stop!"

"You stop!"

…

"We're going to meet in secret to discuss relieving Caldwell of duty, Beckett thinks he might have something," McKay continued.

"Yeah, Caldwell just left for there."

"After your watch-duty, at dusk, poker game."

"A poker game? Excellent."

"NO, major, it's not a real poker game, it's just a – oh for god sakes. I'll see you there."

Suddenly, Sheppard saw Darth Vader ball-rooming dancing with Weir. But upon further review, it was just some guy handing her a report. Funny how that happens.