CHAPTER ONE

The city of Atlantis,
the Pegasus Galaxy.

Lieutenant-Colonel John Sheppard stood up on the observation deck overlooking the Gate Room, and watched on as the latest batch of reinforcements from Earth came through the Stargate and into the Pegasus Galaxy. Ever since the Atlantis expedition had been able to locate a pair of Ancient Zero Point Modules (or ZPMs, as they were known as in short), Gate connections between Earth and the Pegasus Galaxy had been possible again, and the city of Atlantis had enough power to run their defensive measurements now in a time of crisis.

It was good, though, that they found a way around the interstellar trips back from the Milky Way to Pegasus, John thought ruefully to himself, remembering the five trips he had been forced to make, that took eighteen days each.

He looked down at the men and women coming through the still-active Stargate event-horizon – a seemingly unending wave of personnel, a motley crew of scientists, military personnel, medical professionals and logistics agents. Atlantis sure was taking on its fair share of occupants again… the expedition now numbered at just over five hundred, by the last reports the Colonel had read, and was growing on a weekly basis.

"It's almost becoming routine now, isn't it? The constant contact and resupply with Earth…" a voice said softly from behind him. John turned around, to see Dr Elizabeth Weir, the leader of the Atlantis expedition, standing just behind him, smiling slightly as she too peered out over the edge of the balcony, to watch as the newest additions to her expeditionary force picked up all their multitude of gear and started moving out, away from the Gate.

"Yes… I don't think I've quite gotten over the way we just got our asses saved at the last moment by Colonel Everett and his troops when the Wraith were right at our door," John replied. Elizabeth nodded solemnly.

She remembered watching on, right from the very spot where Sheppard was now standing, as Dr Carson Beckett oversaw the evacuations of the most serious wounded personnel to Earth, all those months ago just after the lifting of the Wraith siege. And she remembered seeing the aged, weathered Colonel Dillon Everett, who'd been fed on by a Wraith warrior during the height of the direct attack on Atlantis, being carried through the Gate by a couple of Carson's orderlies on a stretcher, drained of so much of his life til he was just about on death's doorstep.

"Well, just because we have more of a connection with Earth, and the Wraith believe the city of Atlantis has been destroyed, does not mean we can sit back on our laurels, Colonel Sheppard," Elizabeth said with a wry smirk. "We have to stay ahead of the game here, see how long we can operate in Pegasus without getting drawn into another confrontation with the Wraith… I would rather we not have to deal with the Wraith again until we are in a more secure position of power over them, and I think you'd agree with me on this."

"You're damn right I would. I don't want to go through that madness again anytime soon, let me tell you!" Sheppard shot back, shuddering at the thought of suffering through another full-on Wraith assault.

"Yes, I bet… now, on to some more important matters." Weir turned away and started walking back through the command centre of the city, and into her own private, glass-window enclosed office. Sheppard followed her in. "We have a situation with the Genii that I think requires our immediate attention."

"Oh, that's just great… I just knew the honeymoon wouldn't last!" John said with a wry little chuckle, as he sat down in the chair across the tabletop from Dr Weir and listened to her as she began to detail their latest crisis.

# A #

Deep within Sector 1146, onboard the USS Daedalus,
the Pegasus Galaxy.

Strange as it was, Colonel Steven Caldwell had never really been all that interested in space, or deep-space exploration. He had never really pushed for any postings to NASA, or made any ambitions towards some of the numerous black-ops space vehicles the United States Air Force had been working on continuously for the entire length of the Cold War and into the modern day…

No, he was a simple, by-the-books Air Force career-officer, stern, all-powerful and all knowing – in many ways, he was a hallmark back to the days of the Cold War, where the military man was the only one that mattered. Power and responsibility was something he cherished, and desired to reach out and claim as much of it as he could, within his limited purview.

Although his initial attempt to take over as overall commander of the Atlantis expedition had failed, due to Dr Elizabeth Weir's quite considerable pull with the President of the United States as well as the Stargate's foreign allies, Caldwell did believe that the extreme dangers posed by threats from the Pegasus Galaxy warranted a military officer be put in sole command of such a vital endeavour. And though Weir in herself was a calm, confident enough woman, as far as he could tell, the Colonel held true to this steadfast belief.

Interstellar travel in an alien-assisted, Earth-made and commanded battle-cruiser called the Daedalus, the second generation of its kind… now, that was really on the cutting-edge of Air Force technology, and had to be the most incredible command position available in the entire service. He had not expected to be in this position but a few years earlier, could never even have dreamed of it in his wildest imaginings, yet here he was and he could not deny it.

Caldwell had known there were secrets out there, big secrets, but the entire Stargate programme, alien encounters, threats to the very security of the planet Earth, enslavement by a parasitic alien menace known as the Goa'uld, human cultures on other worlds… it was all just so incredible, so unbelievable, yet also was the very essence of truth. And now that he was out there amongst it all, fighting a new threat from the Pegasus Galaxy, the Wraith, the Colonel was forced to make some of the most crucial, far-reaching decisions imaginable.

And, like all commanders in far-flung positions of such importance, he was holding back the tide… fighting battles that earned him the respect and admiration of his crew, and the note of his superiors, holding back the tide of destruction from washing over the entire galaxy and consuming everything in it.

This was just another day in the Pegasus Galaxy – another adventure and another moment of extreme peril.

The Tactical Officer, the most senior command-ranking Air Force person on the bridge at that early hour, had summoned him to the bridge of the Daedalus 0421 hours Zulu. They had detected an anomaly that warranted the Colonel's immediate attention.

Not a particularly unheard-of event, especially considering the environment they were passing through, but then this was a military vessel and it was his task as the commanding officer to see to it that any unusual, anomalous discovery is properly quantified and classified.

They were heading back to the Atlantis outpost from another run to Earth – the last of the kind they were most likely going to make, other than for refitting and maintenance, since Caldwell had been informed over deep-space relay that there was now a new ZPM powering up the Earth Stargate, thanks to the work of the Atlantis expedition.

He had not liked his ship being used as a glorified shuttle service, despite the fact that it was the only effective means at the time of travelling from the Milky Way Galaxy back to the Pegasus Galaxy, without a Zero Point Module being available on Earth. But now with that all changing, it looked like the Colonel and his crew could get back to real, productive work, as proud representatives of the United States Air Force.

"Major, what do you have for us this morning?" Colonel Caldwell asked in his customarily punctual manner, striding onto the bridge of the battle-cruiser and taking his place in the unoccupied command chair, right in the centre of the action.

He was a tall man, bald yet somehow dashing in his middle-years, with broad shoulders and a full, strikingly military poise and composure – a true charisma that was utterly unmistakable. Caldwell wore the regular officer's flight suit that was standard-issue onboard the Daedalus, with customary Colonel's stripes on his shoulders signifying his military rank. The officer was equipped with a 9mm Beretta sidearm, which he kept armed and primed to fire in a holster strapped to his right leg.

"Sir, we're detecting a electronic broadcast coming from the surface of one of the planets in this star system, on the extreme edge of our detection scanning coverage of this sector of space. It's very low frequency, but is quite strong and constant… and our database has confirmed a match-up with an Ancient emergency distress beacon," Major Edward Norris, the Tactical Officer aboard the Daedalus, explained with as much tact, informative directness as possible.

That was the way Steven Caldwell appreciated his briefs, and the officers and enlisted personnel onboard the battle-cruiser were beginning to get the full grip on their new commander.

"Thank-you, Major… Captain, plot a course for the source of this broadcast, one-third military thrust." Caldwell sat back more comfortably in his chair, and watched as the female officer at the helm-controls of the massive star-ship plotted in a course for the planet on which the distress beacon was being broadcast, and the Daedalus turned through the deep void of space towards the planet, then shot away at an increased thrust towards their objective – a small, sparsely-inhabited wasteland planet on the very edges of habitable space within this solar system.

But anything that gave out a signal like Ancient technology, Caldwell thought with a smug, self-interested little grin, was definitely worth more investigation. And a discovery of some worth would only serve to strengthen Steven Caldwell's standing as a military commander, and possibly help him take a step towards Weir's job as the leader of the Atlantis expedition…

# A #

"What the hell's going on, Ronon? We're changing course and speed, and heading further into this sector, not through it and on the way closer to Atlantis!" Dr Rodney McKay said in exasperation, as he sat down at one of the nearby, unoccupied consoles in the Officer's Mess and began typing away at the keyboard.

Ronon Dex, the newest member of the Atlantis expedition's flagship team, had just journeyed to Earth for the first time through the Stargate from Atlantis, the only Stargate in the Pegasus Galaxy capable of connecting a stable wormhole to the homeworld of the Tau'ri. He was still getting over the lukewarm reception he had received there from the senior command personnel at the SGC.

Although it had been made abundantly clear by Lt Colonel John Sheppard AND Dr Elizabeth Weir that he was now a full-fledged member of the Atlantis team, it did not sit well with them at all to have an alien fighter amongst their personnel in the Pegasus Galaxy, no matter his 'stated' intentions.

It was a legitimate concern a small, rational part of Dex could grasp upon and understand, but the overriding notion that he had for all those hours that the intelligence analysts spent grilling him was to cause some serious, brutally vicious physical harm….

Before the nightmare that was his life as a Runner, forever hounded by the Wraith for a strange blend of entertainment and training purposes, Ronon had been a military soldier, a combat specialist, on the planet Sateda. But instead of being fed upon by the Wraith once he had been swept up in a culling on his homeworld, he had been turned lose by his captors, to be hunted relentlessly through the Gates by never-ending parties of Wraith.

After the initially hostile encounter with Sheppard and his people, which had led slowly up to a position of wary trust and understanding, then to something more, Dex had found his path converging with the Atlanteans from Earth. Though they themselves were not the Ancestors, nor did they pretend to be, they were indeed their descendants, and Ronon saw their potential to be the best hope for the Pegasus Galaxy and all of the human populations amongst those stars. For the time being, Ronon was satisfied to align himself with Colonel Sheppard, Dr Weir, and the people of the city of Atlantis.

Rodney McKay, though, was one of those incredibly galling few who had the uncanny ability to be instantly detestable. Dex did not understand how Teyla and John could have gone on for so long working side by side with the 'good doctor', without one of them just putting a couple of bullets into him and leaving him on some world to bleed out and die.

"I'm sure there's a fair enough reason for the change, Rodney, just wait and see if we can find out without bothering anybody," Dex said, as calmly as he could manage under the circumstances.

McKay, though, was not about to heed Ronon's advice, and the big man knew this even as he was speaking the words out aloud. Rodney had to be in the loop on all things, this was quite obviously his way as the self-designated 'mega-genius' of the Atlantis expedition.

"Oh my… well then, that is interesting, now isn't it?" Dr McKay said softly to himself, leaning back into the swivel chair as he watched the screen full of numbers and data scroll across the monitor. Ronon walked over til he was standing right behind Rodney, peering over the scientist's shoulder… but he had to turn away from the screen and look at something else within a matter of moments. The movement of the information across the monitor was blurring, and quite nauseating. "It seems they've picked up an Ancient electronic distress beacon of some kind, and are moving in to investigate."

"Sounds very interesting…" Ronon ventured. He knew that any technology of the Ancestors, especially in functional, working condition, no matter what it actually was, was quite an important find for them all.

Suddenly, Rodney snapped straight up to attention in his chair and leaned right in close to the screen, hitting a couple of keystrokes so that he pulled up a graphical depiction of the electronic signal they were receiving. Hie eyes bulged out wide in their sockets, and he let out a deep, horrified gasp.

"Oh no… oh no oh no oh no oh no."

"What, McKay, what's wrong?" Dex asked, picking up on the honestly alarmed expression on Rodney's face and instantly concerned.

"I need to get in touch with Colonel Caldwell on the bridge – right now!" Rodney snapped, bolting right up out of the chair as though he'd been struck by lightning. He raced over to the nearest intercom line and pulled the receiver down off its cradle. "We're all in serious, SERIOUS trouble here!"

Dex, clueless as to what exactly Dr McKay had discovered, let out a disgruntled little huff and walked on over to join Rodney, and listen in (at least to the Canadian's side of the conversation) as the other man tried to reach the Colonel on the bridge of the Daedalus.