"Please, sit down." Wam Vter motioned at the chair and smiled invitingly.

Rodney had found the ministry of foreign affairs without further problems. He had imagined that there would still be traces of the destruction that had happened only two months ago, but the building was perfectly restored, the sun casting off the immaculate glass facades.

Nobody had stopped him from entering the building. He had simply walked up to what had looked like the front desk and asked the lady behind it to see Wam Vter. He had wondered what she might be thinking behind her prefect smile that never wavered as she asked him for his name and the reason for his visit. One look at him must have told her that he was an alien, yet she had not blinked. Had tolerance and intercultural understanding advanced to such a point here that aliens in broad daylight didn't even elicit suspicious gazes anymore? Rodney couldn't help feeling like people were playing games with him; everyone was having a copy of the script, except for him.

"Are you all right?" Wam Vter asked and Rodney realized that he hadn't answered the man's earlier question.

"Yes, I'm all right. We just have some more questions about what happened to our co-workers." Rodney tried to sound official and hide the emotional tension that he felt. Wam Vter had to think that Elizabeth had sent him here.

"I understand, what do you want to know?" To Rodney's surprise Wam Vter gave himself open to questions.

"Under what circumstances exactly where they found? What do you know about what happened to them? You said something about getting a tip from an insider?" Rodney went through the list of questions that had been going through his mind ever since their arrival on the planet. He didn't know what the question was that he needed to ask to get the answers he was looking for.

"I understand your need for answers; however there is much we still don't know ourselves. The case is still under investigation. Although we successfully raided several facilities that were used by Denebria in the past, we only apprehended about twenty suspected members."

"Yes, you have told us that already." Rodney replied, making his best effort to show patience.

"To be honest with you, we had little success in proving criminal involvement of most of these people. There is no proof of any direct involvement in the attack. These people are low level members who distribute leaflet, hold hate-speeches and donate money to Denebria, the real terrorists are unfortunately still at large."

"So they are just going to go free?" Rodney asked angrily.

"Our society is far from perfect, Dr. McKay. Violence and dissent are problems that we have been dealing with for millennia. There are no simple solutions as you probably know from your own society."

Rodney had to agree. Crime and terrorism were no strangers to Earth.

"We have a few descriptions of key figures within Denebria. Turan, the presumed current leader of the group has been sought for, for almost two decades by now. We are not giving up looking for these men."

"What happens when you find them?"

"They will be evaluated and charged for their crimes as far as they can be proven. If the attackers were found they would probably be faced with exile for life."

"Exile?"

"On Shukur, a penal colony. We found this to be an effective system for criminals that are beyond rehabilitation." Wam Vter explained.

"But that's all just speculative. There is no trace of the real attackers." Rodney said dejectedly.

"Not quite. There is one lead. We have a man on the inside. Communications have been somewhat difficult, but he could be the key to a deciding strike against Denebria. It was his information that gave the confirmation that Denebria was the group responsible and that lead the arrest of those twenty members in the first place. We have been out of contact with him for a while, but he must have infiltrated the organization quite successfully, he was present where your co-workers were held." Wam Vter said off-handedly.

"What! And you didn't mention this sooner. We would have appreciated knowing about this. Any news about our friends would have been welcome. Instead you let us be in the dark..."

"Calm down, Dr. McKay. What would that knowledge have served you. Besides I only received this report a week before contacting you. At this point, your friends had not yet been found. All the report would have brought you was more uncertainty."

Rodney was livid. A week. They could have known that John and Carson were out there, probably alive had Wam Vter not been withholding information from them. He was ready to lash out at the liaison officer but in the last second remembered to control his tongue. He wanted, needed to read that report. Yelling and name calling, what he felt like doing at the moment, would not get him there.

"That is definitely good news. What did he observe?"

Rodney tried to sound as detached as possible. He wasn't sure whether Wam Vter was buying the act. Worse, he wasn't sure whether it mattered, whether Wam Vter bought his act and this was just a game.

"Nothing that is going to help you much. You can read the report if you like. If you want to read it, it is not pleasant in some parts."

"No, that's all right. I want to know the details."

Dr. Alley and Velig rejoined Elizabeth, Teyla and Ford in the observation room. Dr. Alley had hoped that Velig would stay behind with her assistants, but she had accompanied him like a shadow the entire time.

They were greeted with smiles as they stepped into the room.

"How are they?" Ford asked before Elizabeth had the chance the say anything.

"Everything went well. They are still unconscious because we are keeping them sedated. The treatment can be very uncomfortable." Velig said. "But we will let them wake tomorrow if everything goes fine and I see no reason it should not go fine."

"That is very good news." Elizabeth replied with a smile. "Thank you for offering your services."

"It will take a while longer until they are fully recovered. But in a few days, they will be able to accompany you to your planet. Dr. Alley is a most knowledgeable healer, he will take good care of them when you are back on your world. Now, if you will excuse me. I have more patients to tend to. Gotria will guide you to the exit. Have a good stay on our world. I will surely see you tomorrow." Velig bowed and left quickly.

Gotria, the young woman, who had been observing the group from the background stepped forward and bowed.

"If you will please follow me, your shuttle is waiting, it will take you back to your accommodations."

Dr. Alley had just stretched out on his bed, relaxing for the first time in the day, when someone knocked on his door.

"Come in." He answered, praying to multiple deities that it was not Dr. McKay. The chief scientist was not his favourite person, and his extreme personal investment in this matter only served to aggravate his annoying personality traits.

The door opened and Elizabeth entered, followed by Teyla and Ford. Dr. Alley just stared. He had not expected half the senior staff of Atlantis the file into his temporary quarters just like that. He jumped up from the bed, straightening his uniform a bit.

"Good evening Dr. Weir, Lieutenant Ford, Miss Teyla"

"Good evening doctor." Elizabeth returned and took the only available chair, leaving Aiden and Teyla to stand.

"What…what can I do for you?" Dr. Alley fought hard not to stammer.

"I'm sorry for ganging up on you, but I think you have noticed that something is wrong here. I don't know what, but I'm going to find out." Elizabeth said.

"Nobody has given us any more information that they absolutely had to. This healer, Velig has not eve told us what is wrong with John and Carson. I was hoping you could help us out with that."

"Yes, I'm not sure I know everything, because bits of what I was told don't really fit with what we know."

Dr. Alley explained.

"Let's hear it."

"Apparently John was shot in the back by one of the attackers. That matches with what Rodney has described in his report. Carson was hit by a larger piece of shrapnel in the abdomen. You didn't see where he was hit, Dr. Weir, so we have nothing to verify that. Both of them have minor injuries from debris that was flying around during the blasts. What puzzles me is that none of them have typical blast injuries. They were close enough to the centre of the explosion to have received them. The shockwaves would have caused massive internal injuries. There were none."

"Isn't that a good thing?" Aiden asked.

"It's a good thing because they'd probably have bled to death right in the building; still it's a bit odd." Dr. Alley said.

"But they are going to by all right?"

"Yes, as far as I can tell with their medical technology. It's really amazing. What they can..." Dr. Alley was started to get carried away with fascination, but Elizabeth stopped him.

"About the blast injuries, is there no way they could not have sustained those injuries?"

"Well, it's possible. I would have to see the layout of the building and the exact spots were the bombs were placed, their blast radius and strength. Yes, it's not very likely, but possible. But there is something else I overheard, a bit of conversation between Velig's assistants. One of them said 'to tell us about their memory, otherwise we would get suspicious', then he told me that due to having been in stasis John and Carson could suffer some initial memory loss."

Elizabeth arched an eyebrow.

"I don't like the sound of that. But it's not enough to start accusing our allies of anything. We don't even know of what. It could be something harmless; they could just be embarrassed about their terrorist problem and trying to cover up now. We need to keep our eyes open. I don't want to do anything rash, the Ymanhin are valuable allies and I don't think the have malicious intentions. They traded us for a ZPM after all. "

Rodney's eyes flew over the report. He had always been grateful for his ability to read fast, and this was no exception. He skipped over the first bits which described lengthily the flight to and the location of a sort of chalet in the North Kintarin mountains. But still, he couldn't help but cringe when he imagined a hurt and bleeding John in the back of a shuttle. Had he been conscious? Rodney hoped to God that he hadn't. John had lost consciousness back when they had been attacked in the negotiations break and he had been shot in the back. It was a wonder he had not bled to death, Rodney thought as he read on. Two sentences later, he found the reason why.

The other guard and I were ordered to perform first aid on the aliens.

With the Ymanhin advanced medicine, even first aid could make the difference between life and death even with serious wounds. Again Rodney skipped over passages that described the chalet and the people the guard, who went by the alias Sjel apparently encountered. He wasn't reading this to hunt for terrorists. He was gladly leaving that to the Ymanhin authorities. His interest was sparked again when the report turned back to John and Carson.

We were ordered to bring them to the basement and tie them up securely. The chief guard Olyg verified our work and ordered us to remain guarding the door. Several hours later, he came back down to the basement and ordered me to bring one of the prisoners back up again. I did as ordered. Upstairs I brought him into a small room in the back of the house with boarded up windows. This room served as an interrogation room. Olyg and another man whom I had not seen before and whose name I did not learn asked me to remain in the room.

Rodney read on, fearful of what he was going to read next.

A female doctor woke the alien prisoner. She too stayed for the interrogation. The man leading the interrogation proceeded to ask systematically questions regarding a collaboration between, the people of the alien, called the Atlantians and our people. The alien denied any such thing. When the alien wasn't forthcoming, the interrogator resorted to threats and ordered me to beat the prisoner.

Anger welled up in Rodney. Just reading about what happened made him furious as never before. He realized that without 'Sjel', John would not have been found, but the thought of him having beaten John when he was already severely injured, inflamed a fire of fury in Rodney.

When the alien was unconscious, I returned him to the basement. The other alien had also been interrogated and had been returned to the basement as well, as I was told by another guard. We were ordered by Olyg to stand guard in front of the door. About eight hours later, the female doctor, who had been present during the interrogation and the man conducting the interrogation came down to the basement and requested entrance. He accompanied them as ordered. Both the prisoners were unconscious and didn't offer resistance as the doctor examined them and treated their injuries. The interrogator ordered us guards to carry the prisoners outside where another shuttle had arrived in the meantime.

Rodney skipped over a long paragraph describing model and make of the shuttle. The terms meant nothing to him. His attention returned when the report turned back to John and Carson.

The interior of the shuttle was outfitted with medical gear included two stasis units. I and the other guard went back inside the chalet once we had delivered the aliens to the shuttle.

That was it for the part of the report that interested him. What followed was a description of several days of activities at the chalet that amounted to removal of evidence and receiving a weapons shipment before the group left for another hide-out. This was where the report broke off.

Rodney had read enough to feel sick to his stomach. John and Carson had been interrogated and tortured at the hands at these bastards. He couldn't imagine how it must have been for them; they must have thought that they were going to die at the hands of these extremists. He had to see John. Suddenly, Rodney regretted his flight from the hospital. He should have been stronger for John. Instead he had run away because he couldn't bear to watch. John needed him to be there for him now.

His thought in a whirlwind, he handed the report back to Wam Vter and thanked him absentmindedly. He didn't pay any attention as he stumbled down the stairs to the entrance hall and out onto the street.

Night had fallen in the meantime. He had spent far longer at Wam Vter's office than it had felt to him. He hoped that Elizabeth and the others hadn't not'/iced his absence yet, but knew that this was unlikely.

His thoughts on John, Rodney walked through the darkened streets, until he paused, noticing that he had no idea where he was going or where the nearest subway station was. The subway station he had come from had been close to the ministerial building, but now he noticed that he must have been walking off in the wrong direction.

Rodney looked around for someone to ask for directions, when suddenly there was a noise behind him. He wanted to whirl around, but there was a sharp pain in his neck. Wasp sting! He thought instinctively and reached for his pocket, but before his hand reached it, he had fallen to the ground. The last thing he saw was a pair of boots before everything went black.

Deakon frantically ran and searched for something to pry open the crates. His eyes fell on the crowbar he kept handy near the door, not for his intended use, but a man needed a weapon on Shukur. It would do just fine.

Deakon pried open the crate as fast as he could, the cheap wood splintering off to the sides. Finally, he had loosened the top and one side of the crate and could see what it held. Inside was an old model stasis pod. A really old model stasis pod. The lights on the side panel were flashing red and orange. Deakon knelt down and examined the panel.

As expected the alarm coloured light indicated nothing good. The old models were from before his time, but the basic design had remained the same. At the press of a button, he shut off the deafening alarm. The lights continued to flash, indicating imminent power failure. Deakon punched the button to initiate the revival programme. The message on the tiny screen informed him that insufficient power was available to complete the revival programme. Deakon swore. He tried the patient scan programme next. This time the pod complied.

The results flashed over the screen.

Failure of genetic analysis. Unknown species.

Cannot analyse further.

The screen darkened for a moment and then flashed brightly.

Power failing.

Deakon swore again. A fucking alien. He was going to be stuck with an alien, if it had survived the power failure of the stasis pod. Or maybe even two, he eyes the second crate suspiciously, but it had not yet emitted a sound.

Deakon slid open the covering of the dead stasis pod. He was face to face with an alien. It was male, had a pale face with a slightly pink-ish hue and dark hair. Deakon felt for a pulse. The skin under his fingers felt far rougher than his own. It was freezing to the touch, but there was a faint pulse. There was also something sticky on the back of the alien's neck. A dark red substance.

tbc