A/N: Ack,Ack! I got it up! Finally! Stupid thing refused to load for the past three days.
Your reviews make me wish I really could pass out treats. Virtual ones are just too blah. So everyone go out, get yourself some cake or brownie mix, slap it together, and pretend it's from me. Okay, that's just silly, but feel free to treat yourselves, you deserve it.
And the plot thickens...
18
John's brain periodically fritzing like a frayed wired made piloting a jumper out of the question. Safety sake had him resigned to a bench in the back between Weir and Ronon, with Teyla beside Ronon, and Rodney, Kace, and two marines across from them. One could never say how a jumper might react to the unstable mental twitching of one harnessing a super gene. Lorne piloted jumper one, and a third marine took up the copilot chair. The jumper lowered into the gate room, and jumper two was in the process of emerging from the bay. Lt. Cadman, Beckett, and Dr. Zelenka observed from the control room; Lt. Cadman at ease, Drs. Beckett and Zelenka nervous as hell. They had every right to be, seeing as how the city was under their watch, even if it was just for the day.
John was confident the three could handle it. Cadman was a given being military, with Beckett and Zelenka excellent under pressure no matter how much they denied it. Besides, chaos had become strictly an off world/off planet deal the past couple of weeks, and Atlantis had become about as exciting as a small, one horse town after dark.
Atlantis would be fine, and John wished feverishly that he could say the same for himself. He was tempted to remove the hooded military jacket that pooled the heat of his body to increase the sweat, and was already suffering the sour smell of it. He sat straight-back against the bulkhead, rubbing his clammy palms back and forth over his knees hard enough for it to almost count as a deep tissue massage that wasn't helping.
It wasn't going unnoticed, definitely not by Kace, and especially not by Rodney, plus Weir was shooting him askance looks of concern. John pulled his hands up to his thighs where he balled his fists to force immobility on them. Rodney was staring at him hard, unwavering, asking with his eyes over and over 'you sure, absolutely sure, one hundred percent positive sure you're up for this?' John inclined his head less than a fraction.
Yes, now shut up about it all ready.
Rodney narrowed his eyes. Kace snickered under his breath with his hand covering his mouth.
" John?" Weir asked, and it took John a moment to put a name to the voice.
" I'm good," he blurted, and with excellent timing when Lorne had the gate dialed up and was mentally nudging the jumper through after cloaking the ship. One wormhole whooping ride later, and they popped out the other side like a bottle rocket shot off into water, slowing for a gentle climb into the sky. Lorne banked around to get the 'gate in view of the jumper, just in time to see the ripple caused by the second jumper emerging, and for a witness of the guards flinching back, pointing and running about like headless chickens.
Lorne relayed instructions to jumper two, and again they banked, climbing toward the blue smeared with gold of an early morning sky. John was feeling pleasantly numb at the moment. He'd been expecting a jolt, like a shock, followed by a rush of unpleasant memories to suffocate him. Except the sight of a planet that looked like every other planet he'd ever visited just didn't cut it even for a psyche as fragile as his. But his body remained stiff in anxious anticipation for that moment when something either seen, scented, felt, or heard would send his mind packing down that road earth people called memory lane. Not that he'd panic, he knew he was passed the point of giving into delusion, but his stomach had yet to realize that there was no need to react any more.
They skimmed low over the trees with a heading per Kace's coordinates of where Chief Commander Morel's place was said to be – namely all the way on the other side of town. Lorne veered to skirt the town, and slowed on approach to the immaculate mansion of light gray stone masonry, slanted tile roofs, and stain glass windows.
Now John had his trigger, because the house was the spitting image of Harl's oversized torture den. John had to look away, so looked down at his fists clenched so tight they were shaking. His stomach churned and boiled, readying for Mt. Vesuvius round... actually, John had lost count, and he doubted he had anything left to puke up. All the same, acidic bile stung his throat, and he swallowed hard to shove it back down.
His rapid heartbeat was giving his inner turmoil away, since no heart beat that fast without the face going pale for it. He slid one fist down until it bumped the nine mil strapped to his thigh, and suddenly the universe felt far more manageable. A P-90 would have made life down right sunny, except those were stashed in jumper two as last protocol should things turn ugly. Weir wanted to go in seeming as non-threatening as possible, but allowed the nine-mils to maintain the Lantean reputation of being anything but stupid and quick to trust.
Lorne lowered the jumper into a sizeable clearing within the trees bordering the vast green lawn of the Commander's home. That lawn could have been mistaken for a golf course, and John pitied the guy who had to mow it.
The light dimmed when the jumper entered the shade of the woods. John leaned forward, his upper arms on his knees, and his fingers entwined tightly together. He felt a hand touch lightly on his back, and he hoped to high heaven he wasn't trembling too low for him to notice, but not anyone else.
" You ready for this John?" Elizabeth said.
" No," John stated bluntly. Then grinned. " But when has that ever stopped me?"
" Gee, now why do I find that lacking in reassurance?" Rodney retorted.
" I don't know McKay. I thought for sure you'd be used to it by now."
That had McKay balking, and the knot in John's gut unwinding, soothing the savage bile. He grinned in self-satisfaction at having not lost his touch, and that if his brain was steady enough for comebacks for McKay, then there was hope for himself yet.
There was a clunk as the bay doors opened that caused Sheppard to jump, bringing him back to the torment that was the here and now, and what was about to happen. Everyone stood, and with a deep, lung cleansing breath, John rose to follow, pulling the hood down further over his head. The rest of the marines were hooded as well, as though it was common protocol for Lantean military to keep their faces hidden. John was blended as one of the guards, but was screwed if being the tall, skinny one struck a cord of remembrance within the local inhabitants. Rodney had rehashed the team's own escape from Harl's men, and the crappy description given of Kace and John – interplanetary fugitives.
Two marines from jumper two stepped out of thin air and back into thin air to take up momentary residence in jumper one.
" Remember," Sheppard called, grimacing slightly at facing nothing as he spoke. " Don't make a move unless I say, or if someone happens to come along and starts getting curious about the invisible wall they seemed to have run into." It felt good to give orders, even if it was just for today. " If that happens and there's just one, fell free to give'em a little nap with a wraith stun. If there's more than one, just take off to let 'em question their sanity."
" Yes sir," came the reply from both jumpers, and John grimaced again. He was never going to get used to it.
With the ground rules established, Weir led the way through the woods toward the road leading up to the house. Pebbles and dirt crunched under their boots on stepping onto the wide compact path, and when forest gave way to clean-cut lawn, Sheppard and company spread out, taking point ahead and behind, with Weir and McKay in the center, McKay's gaze glued to the LSD.
It was a long walk up to the front entrance of the place. The road split around a massive stone fountain topped by the reptilian horse things that pulled the carts, heads raised and fanged mouths open, spitting white-foamed water flashing crystal in the sunlight. The 'Lanteans gathered in, keeping to the right of the fountain, and remained gathered on reaching the wide, gray-marble steps leading up to the double doors of amber colored wood. Lorne did the honor of hammering the knocker against the door, the thud resounding like rolling thunder on the other side. The wait wasn't long, and the door moaned open to a tall, thin, severe-looking man with hawk-features and jet-black hair pulled back tight in a pony-tail. He wore a long robe of red and black that stopped just an inch above the sapphire blue-tiled floor.
The man's dark eyes snapped up and down Weir's person without a twitch in a single facial muscle. The word 'mask' popped into John's head, a mask of skin stretched over bone and solidified by a crap-load of glue. He doubted the man had the capacity to even move his lips.
" May I help you?"
Okay, John was wrong.
The man's voice was flat to the point of sounding bored, which contrasted unnaturally with the severity of his face.
Elizabeth straightened to her full height. " Yes, you may. My name is Elizabeth Weir, ambassador..." it had been a unanimous agreement to go with ambassador for safety, since the title of 'leader' tended to give people bad ideas, " for the people of Atlantis who I believe your employer knows of. We wish to speak to him concerning a delicate situation that I really think he needs to hear about."
" And this matter...?"
" I'd rather discuss it with Chief Commander Morel."
John was glad for the hood since it hid his smirk within shadows. Mr. Mask said nothing for a moment, probably digesting Elizabeth's words. Finally, he inclined his head in a nod. " Please, enter. I will inform Chief Commander that you are here."
They entered the cavern size corridor with the triangle tiled floor and the massive gray stone walls rising high to an arched ceiling of carve flying buttresses. It was like a cathedral, the medieval kind with dark colored tapestries and arched doorways. Chips in the tile, stone, frays in the tapestries, and the fading wood of the doors gave the place an ancient feel. Once upon a time – yes – it was built out of a desire for opulence, and like Buckingham Palace or the White House, was probably a landmark and the permanent residence for past and future leaders. So unlike Harl's palace, Morel's home couldn't be a determining factor for the man behind the name of Chief Commander.
Dracula (fitting enough as far as John was concerned) led lady ambassador Weir and her entourage through the hall, up a short flight of steps, and to the right down another hall until they came to a row of blue cushioned benches along the wall across from a massive pair of doors decorated in carved symbols.
" Wait here, please," Dracula said, and shoved the doors open enough to slip through. Everyone sat stiff back and wary, except for McKay who was fixated on the language on the door.
" Looks similar to Ancient..." he mumbled.
John leaned to rest his back against the wall, and sighed. This place was nothing like Harl's place- excluding size of course. Nothing pretty, nothing shiny, nothing to think back on, so he allowed himself a modicum of relaxation. Kace was doing the same, but with legs stretched out, one ankle crossed over the other with hands in his pockets.
" That Nera guy's duller than wood," he said with a sniff.
" What's his name?" Weir asked.
" Nera. The head of house. Cripes, the guy's head's like a blasted rule book. I got drowsy at a glance."
Major Lorne pointed at the doors. " Can you hear what's going on in there?"
" Well, anyone can stick their ear to the door and listen, but if your talking about mentally, then no. I need direct visual contact, don't ask me why. One of the great mysteries of life for my folk."
" I think those are their laws written on that door," McKay said.
John turned his head to look at the physicist, mildly intrigued. " Oh yeah? What kind of laws?"
McKay shrugged. " The wordy kind, written in Biblical form with a massive dose of the cryptically poetic. The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few kind of thing. The law must be spread with an unyielding fist, yadda, yadda."
" If there's something up there about 'thou shalt not harm the stranger in your midst," John said, " does that mean we can sue them?"
" I don't see anything pertaining to that, but I bet there's some religious moral code that's certain to put Harl six feet under," McKay replied. " Every world has 'em."
John grinned. " Then I scoff those who scoff moral codes. People say rules are meant to be broken, but some rules you've gotta love." John lifted his arms, about to knit his hands behind his head, when he recalled one of those arms being in a cast, so lowered them, tugging on his sleeve to ensure the cast remain hidden.
An increasing volume of murmuring drew John's attention to the right and two figures heading their way. One was an elderly man, bald but with a white beard and dressed in robes similar to Nera's. The other was wearing what appeared to be black fatigues, and was a head taller than the old man. He looked to be in his fifties, with a square, craggy face and silver hair cut military style and spiked.
That face, that hair, struck a hammer blow to John's head, and in flashed memories, too many, too fast, making his heart pound and his stomach coil.
Stars, planet, ship, falling, impact, pain, pain, pain, people, pain, screaming, pain, begging for help, pain, hatch gone, pain, faces, pain, Gorek, pain, silver hair, pain, hands grabbing, pulling, rough, uncaring, more pain, agony, fear, darkness...
John flinched back into the now, and lowered his head to hide his face in darker shadows. On reaching the door, and before entering, silver hair – continuing to talk in murmur so as not to be overheard, nodded a greeting to the group then entered.
John's heart felt ready to explode. What did this mean? Did this mean anything? Maybe it meant nothing. Maybe the man had been part of the rescue, hadn't seen what happened to John afterwards. Might not mean a thing. Then again, could mean anything, everything, too much. John's breathing climbed to match his heart rate, and his heart rate was making it hard to breathe.
" Hey She... uh, John?"
John snapped his head to the left, to Kace leaning forward with a troubled look. He'd been wise not to say Shep. If a name had been put with the crappy description of tall skinny man, it would have been the name Sheppard.
Good old Kace. No need for articulated explanations for him. He saw what flashed through John's mind, a more stable mind teetering on trying to go back to being unstable. John licked suddenly dry lips with a suddenly dry tongue, and questioned with thought only if he needed to be worried.
Kace gave him an apologetic look and shrugged helplessly. " Didn't scan him, sorry."
John's heart dropped like a rock, and he shivered. Reluctantly, feeling like a child ashamed for being spooked by a noise, he turned his head to look at Dr. Weir, who returned his gaze with her own inquisitive, and concerned, one.
" John?" she said. John glanced around, then leaned in closer to Elizabeth with head kept low.
" I've seen that guy before," he said in a undertone to keep it from echoing.
Weir leaned in as well. " From where? At Harl's?"
John shook his head, licking his lips again with no result. " No. He was there, when I crashed. I crashed here, after going after the ships. I must have, um... I must have got caught when they were hyperjetting out, got pulled along or something. I remember this flash, it lasted a while... But that's not important! Everything malfunctioned, I crashed here, some people got me out, and that guy, the one in black, he was there getting me out, him and that SOB Gorek – Harl's lead thug. Both of them were there, along with a bunch of others, and not one of them were even remotely gentle about pulling me out if you know what I mean. And right after that... I don't remember much, but I do recall being in some kind of a hospital, and it was at that hospital the torture began just because I wouldn't light up the Ancient crap."
Elizabeth, already rigid, lifted both eyebrows in alarm instead. " So... what are you saying? That the Chief Commander knew?"
John let out a sharp breath and closed his eyes wearily. " I don't know. I have no... freakin' clue. He might have just been there for the rescue and let Gorek take over or something."
John heard McKay groan.
" Oohh, I knew it was a bad idea for you to come here."
John smiled wanly. So did I.
" So what do we do?" Elizabeth asked. " Take our chances and go ahead with it?"
John snapped his eyes open. It shouldn't have been possible, but his heart was smacking his ribs even faster. And, just his luck, he was shivering again. He turned his eyes upward, at Elizabeth, sheepishly, apologetically, ashamedly, and fearfully. He swallowed back against a parched throat enough of his emotions in order to speak. Except that he couldn't. Elizabeth was right. If they were going to get their people back, then they were going to have to take a chance.
But Elizabeth had seen his fear. Hell, it was out in the open for everyone to see, glaring like a brightly colored billboard.
John forced a pathetic, wavering smile, coupled with a broken laugh. " Yeah, exactly."
Elizabeth's expression hardened. " John..."
" I don't think we have much of a choice here, Elizabeth," he jumped in. " We need this guy's help." Unless he's in on it after all, knew about me, sentenced me to hell. Then we're all screwed. He didn't say it out loud because he didn't have to. Everyone was aware of it, so putting it into words was redundant.
" What if this is all part of a trap?" McKay piped up. John rolled his head in the physicist's direction, heavy-lidded with an annoyance not directed at Rodney. Rodney, however, didn't realize this, and raised his hands defensively.
" What! It's absolutely plausible. If this Chief Commander guy was part of what was being done to you, then coming here isn't going to solve our problem, it's going to make it worse. Maybe it's time we jump on over to plan B."
John sighed heavily and looked away. " McKay's right. Harl I wouldn't pin as being intelligent, but for all we know Chief Commander has an IQ to rival Rodney's and set this whole thing up knowing good and well we'd go for peaceful solutions before the gun-blazing, jail-break attempt. We can no longer trust to the situation."
Elizabeth clasped her hands and looked down at them. " What do you suggest we do?"
" I got a suggestion," Kace said, leaning forward with hand raised, then dropping it. He stood to move closer to John and Elizabeth, crouching in front of both. John leaned in with arms on his knees.
" We're listening," he said.
" Stick it out, except for you, John. Make up some excuse to go back to the ships and go. But if you want to know what's really going on in Morel's skull, then keep up the pretense of being diplomats and let me get a good scan of the man's mind. If he's got good intentions then we call you back in to provide the proof of torture. If not, then your lack of presence is going to buy us time. It's you they want so it's not like they're going to try anything against Doc Weir here unless they're certain the results are to their liking. And your the result, Shep. So as long as you're scarce, any trap the big boss had in mind can't be triggered seeing as how the prey isn't around to trigger it. Trust me on this. It's pretty much universal whatever the planet or race, unless you're immaculately wrong concerning Morel's intelligence. But I can probably vouch without a doubt that the man's smart. It's one of the billion reasons why Harl's paranoid about him."
John looked at Weir hopefully. " What do you think?"
Elizabeth squinted her eyes thoughtfully. " You don't think he'd try to add to the hostage collection in an attempt to force Atlantis' hand?"
" As long as you maintain you're the ambassador and not the leader, then no."
" Despite the fact they have no qualms about shooting messengers?" McKay said.
" That was Harl," Kace countered. " This is the boss man. Even if a little low on intelligence, he'd still adhere to the rules of proper diplomacy. And proper diplomacy means shooting the messenger is naughty."
Elizabeth gave John a penetrating, unwavering stare. " Are you okay with this, John? Truthfully?"
John grimaced internally, and plastered an a smile externally. " Truthfully? The idea of leaving isn't sitting well. Sure I can't just say hidden in the back?"
Elizabeth narrowed her eyes. " What do you think?"
Now the grimace was outward. Truthfully, it was tearing John up , the whole hiding thing, being shoved so far in the back he'd never reach the others in time should anything to the negative go down. But the bigger picture never did allow for everyone to have their way, and John wasn't going to give in to petulance at the risk of loosing their people."
" All right, I'll go. Just keep the coms open, let me listen in so that we don't have to waste time with explanations later."
Elizabeth nodded. " Good idea. We'll do just that. You'd better go now, and take McKay with you so it'll look as though you're escorting him. The less attention on you, the better."
John pushed himself to his feet. " No argument here. Come on, McKay. Let's go for a walk."
SGA
" Regret coming yet?" McKay said between pants. He'd manage to possibly break a record by remaining silent until they were fifteen feet from the woods.
" Depends."
" On what?"
" On whether or not we get out of here with our people and everyone else intact. Until then, I refuse to regret anything."
They stepped over the unseen line dividing forest from manicured lawn, went a ways further, then veered into the forest with moss, dead leaves, and twigs snapping and crunching under their feet, the subtle shift in temperature relieving them of the growing heat that had been aimed at their backs. John led the way, pushing aside lesser branches, leaves, and living twigs while ducking and veering slightly around or stepping over ground obstacles.
" You're not uh... you know..."
John glanced over his shoulder. " Scared out of my mind?"
McKay twitched his shoulders and cast his eyes to the LSD in his hands. " Uh... more like how are you holding up... so far... I mean?"
John, smiling, returned his attention to the unseen path ahead. " Scared is in reserve. Right now I'm just gut-wrenching nervous. Which is a lot better than I'd expected. Nervous beats puking any day. And right now I'm more nervous about what Morel is up to than whether Harl spots me."
It was actually a relief when life fell into more appropriate perspective. John wouldn't have given into his fears, but there had been the stability of his mind in question, and so far his brain was being a good little organ and keeping itself in line.
" So," McKay said in a conversational tone, " you crashed on this rock."
" Seems to be the case, yeah," John replied, ducking a low hanging branch heavy with leaves and moss. " I mean if getting caught in the pull of a hyperdrive is possible, then it explains a lot."
" Oh, it's possible. Hell, you were probably about to dock when it happened, which comes as a surprise. Usually when it comes to saving my ass, your timing is better than your luck. If anything, it should have ended with you shoving me and Ronon into a dart, and staying behind because their isn't any room. Escaping hive ships is more your thing anyways."
John smiled again. " You still would have been pissed."
" True, and blaming myself, getting more pissed until I stopped blaming myself and dumped all the blame on you."
John did another glance over his shoulder. " Something tells me you weren't happy about finding out I wasn't around when you got back."
McKay shrugged, still focused between the LSD and the treacherous forest floor. " I'm unhappy in general, Colonel. But, yes, I admit that I was less than pleasant to be around, and Zelenka will blow it out of proportion for you. You really need to stop dying, Sheppard, it gets a little old after a while."
John chuckled and returned to facing forward.
" It's not funny, Colonel!" McKay snapped.
" Yes it is, McKay. Mostly because it's true. You're not the only one who gets tired of the close calls."
" And I suppose telling you to stop it wouldn't make a difference?"
John shook his head, still all smiles. " Depends on life, McKay. Crap happens that we don't have control over, and then all you're left with is the will to survive. Well, that and choice. I had a lot of choice. My decision results hurt like hell, but oddly enough I've yet to regret it. Principle of the thing, I guess."
" The reason?"
John's smile faltered and failed him. " The reason."
McKay's crunching footfalls doubled until the scientist was beside John, increasing his pace to keep up with John's long-legged strides. " Yes, good 'ole reason. I know we've discussed it, but I swear the way you talk about it you'd think it had been someone's life at stake."
John turned his head to look at Rodney, mulling over the words, turning them about like a pretty rock made intricate by colorful striations and tiny crystals.
" I think," John said, pensive as he thought back to things that made him shudder, " it was just something to hold on to, to fight for."
" And survival wasn't enough?"
John lowered his eyelids in a dangerous look. " I was beyond out of it, McKay, to the point where 'confused' doesn't cut it, and so freakin' terrified that all I wanted to do was crawl in a hole and die just to get the pain to stop. I think," he went pensive again, and his body vibrated with another shudder, " I think... after a while, I couldn't recall why they were hurting me. I don't know when I forgot everything, maybe after the first scramble, but one of the first memories to go had to be the reason for the pain. But it wasn't like the device made me stupid. I managed to put two and two together – over and over and over again. People plus torture equals bad people. Torture plus devices equals devices being bad. And that was all I knew, all I could get myself to remember."
Now it was McKay who became the pensive one, and he looked over at John curiously. " Like I said, I know we've discussed this, so this more just a rhetorical question but... you think, just maybe, disregarding all that talk about sending you into battle with a weapon and personal shield (which I still think stands, by the way) that they would have treated you better if you got one of the gadgets to work?"
A good question, and one that John - during moments of lucidity during his stay in the infirmary and even after - had contemplated off and on. " I remember – I think – promises made that I'd get the good life if I'd just get something to work." John then held up a single finger. " But here's the thing. Even if they'd treated me better from day one, I wouldn't have stuck around, and I sure as hell wouldn't have played a part in a freakin' assassination attempt or any act of espionage for that matter. To ensure me remaining the obedient dog that never runs away, they'd either have to keep up with the scrambler or chain me to the wall."
McKay lifted his chin. " Ah. Makes sense. But what if they wanted you to get the artifacts working in hopes that it might protect their world?"
" Then I would have tried to talk them into getting an ATA gene injection. The fact of the matter is, there was no way it was going to be one hundred percent sunshine and daisies on this world for me. I wanted to go home, they wanted me to stay, and even if they'd offered me a fancy room with a plush bed and good food, life was still going to be miserable in their attempt to keep me sticking around."
McKay nodded assent. " True, very true. And the fact that they jumped straight into torture doesn't say too much about them."
John tilted his head thoughtfully. " I don't know. They might have begun with the hospitable but got impatient. But all I recall is the bad, so it doesn't really matter."
They stepped into the clearing, following the erratic circumference until a marine stepped out of thin air.
" Lt. Colonel," he said, stiffening at attention. " Problem sir?"
John shook his head. " At ease. No problems, just a shift in the plans. McKay," John swept one hand in the direction the marine had appeared. " Do your voodoo."
McKay snorted. " That's Carson's expertise." They followed the marine into the jumper, with McKay going straight with Sheppard following close behind.
" Fine, hocus-pocus this thing before we miss something vital."
McKay humphed but made no real reply. He snapped at a young soldier to get the laptop from under the bench. With the portable computer, a couple of wires, and a ton of McGuiver-like ingenuity, McKay rigged it so that the communications array of the jumper belted out the conversation in the mansion for everyone to hear like a radio broadcast. The marines in jumper two were ordered to keep watch, and the bay doors of jumper one hummed closed, locking in the sound.
So far, it sounded as though they hadn't missed a thing.
SGA
Roughly around five minutes after John and Rodney left, both doors of the antechamber groaned open, and Nera emerged.
" His lordship Chief Commander Morel bids you welcome and enter."
The Atlantis party rose with Weir leading the way into the massive, circular room with the tile mosaic floor of multiple colors, and a domed ceiling of slick-white rock interrupted by ten small, round windows angled to guide pillars of light to the center of the floor. On the other side of this bright circle of light were several red-padded chairs facing a long, curved dais hugging the wall where officials in bright robes sat on high backed, padded chairs of their own.
Once the team was seated, Kace's mind went straight to the man in the center chair.
Chief Commander Morel, when standing, would have been as tall as Kace. He was a sharp-featured man, made even sharper by a neatly trimmed dark gray goatee and thin mustache and slightly narrowed ice-blue eyes. Morel's head was so clean shaven the skin practically glowed, making Kace's own head seem dulled by the thin layer of dark stubble. Morel was smiling a political smile so well practiced that the true emotions behind it couldn't be determined. He looked genuinely happy, ready with the polite words and the polite talk, and a surface scan did indeed reveal a genuinely happy individual. But there were underlying currents that required a deeper dig that would take time without direct eye contact. The man's thoughts were very much in the here and now, and it would take the right words from Dr. Weir to get Morel's mind to reveal more on its own accord.
" Dr. Weir," Morel said. " Representative of Atlantis. I welcome you to our world. It is an honor to have you with us."
Weir inclined her head. " Thank you, Chief Commander Morel. Although you may not be honored by the reason that has brought us here."
Morel remained quite stoic, straight back yet relaxed, with arms draped casually over the armrests of the chair. " Would this involve the incident of many days ago when Chief Judge Harl attempted to restrain your people against their will? Because if it is, then I sincerely apologize for it. Harl is a man who feels himself justified in many of his actions..."
Kace caught emotion, a little above a flicker. Annoyance, and with it a thought – a reminder – for Morel speak with Harl once again.
So why hasn't he booted Harl out of office already? Kace thought. You'd think a jail break would be excuse enough to strip the man of his rank.
" Actually, Commander Morel," Elizabeth said when she was given the chance to speak, " this involves a more grave matter."
Kace shifted slightly, getting comfortable enough to hone his focus and dig in, tuning out all else say for Weir's words that would soon spark the needed thoughts.
" We have reason to believe that your Chief Judge has taken several of our people and are holding them hostage as ransom."
Kace blinked at the Commander's emotional shift into mild unease that was nearly smothered by something stronger – excitement, anticipation? Something along those lines. Yet Morel's outward appearance remained an unbreakable mask. His only reaction was raising a single eyebrow.
" And you know this... how?" Morel asked. The man was struggling to erect a kind of mental wall to dam in the rising anticipation – definitely anticipation, and it made Kace nervous.
" One of our people was released to deliver the message. Harl is demanding a trade. The hostages for one person. A person who – not long ago – was an unwilling guest of Judge Harl. He was severely mistreated by Judge Harl and we'd prefer that this person never encounter Judge Harl again. We were hoping you could help us in getting our people back without resorting to violence or giving into Judge Harl's demands."
Morel nodded thoughtfully, his forced concern so fake it made Kace wince. Granted, the man hid behind his own skin masterfully, but smug expectation wafted off him like oily mist. The more Weir talked, the more Morel fought not to giggle like a maniac. There were a number of other emotions hidden with the initial, dominating one; satisfaction, and the start of what would soon become... relief? Kace needed to do a deeper scan, because Morel was hiding something, and it was big.
Morel nodded again. " I see. However, I must warn you that these are quite heavy accusations. If you do not mind my asking, who was this person Judge Harl mistreated?"
Heat shot off Dr. Weir like a small explosion. " Someone who crashed on this world trying to save more of our own. He was injured, needed help, and was – instead – tortured."
" So this 'person', is someone of importance?"
Weir nodded curtly. " Exceeding importance. He's our military commander."
" So he is not someone you would be willing to sacrifice to save your people?"
The explosion became rolling magma, making even Kace go a little uncomfortable. The muscles of Weir's jaw twitched, and her body was so rigid hurricane winds could not have knocked her over.
" Although..." she forced out, breathing deep to maintain control, " he would willingly sacrifice himself if it meant getting our people back, we'd rather that be a very, very last resort. Which – again – is why we have come to you. We are asking for your help in rescuing our people..."
" And as I said, these are heavy accusations, and such accusations require proof. Do you have such proof? Is your military commander present now?"
" For matters of safety, we thought it best that he remain behind."
Morel physically froze to keep the smile plastered to his face. Emotionally, all walls crumbled, and Kace was struck by the combination heat and cold of fury and panic. Kace twitched in surprise at the impact, and twitched again when Morel quickly composed himself until both emotions were hovering at the back of his mind like crouching beasts waiting for the word or whistle to pounce.
" If we assured his protection, would you be able to bring him in order to provide testimony to what Harl has done? If not then I'm afraid I would be unable to help you in this matter..."
Morel's fear continued to vibrate, and his thoughts began to skitter about – to betray him. Kace saw... Wraith? What do wraith have to do with anything? Well, they always have a lot to do with everything, but now? Something about the wraith coming, soon, and something else along the lines of – as John or McKay might put it – being screwed. But Morel's thoughts didn't dwell on it long. He was too busy trying to maintain his cool – again, as John might put it.
Kace needed a deeper scan, and now. Really not much left to lose at this point – not counting their lives. Kace cleared his throat loudly, raised his hand, and thought fast.
" Uh, chief Commander Morel, quick question."
Every set of eyes shot his way, but Kace only had attention for Morel, who was finally staring right at him.
" And you are?" Morel asked, all other emotions put on hold for the sake of annoyance.
" No one important. Just a friend of said military commander. And since he's not really here to speak for himself, I thought I'd do the asking for him. If he was here to give testimony, would Harl have to be present?"
" Eventually. Your 'friend' would have to speak his peace twice, the second time with Judge Harl present that he may defend himself. The laws of our legal system require equal testimony from both parties..."
Yadda, yadda, yadda. Time to get on with it. Morel's legal prattling gave Kace the time needed for a deep scan. He delved, squirming past surface thoughts, and what he saw made his eyes round over. All Morel's words became garbled static, as well as a waste of time that was bringing about Kace's own panic.
" So," he barked, more like squeaked, interrupting Morel despite it being a massive diplomatic stumbling block, but like diplomacy mattered anymore. " Harl has to show up to give his side of things, but he can't mess with my pal whatsoever?"
Morel gaped for a moment, then frowned. " No. He cannot 'mess' with your friend."
Kace clapped his hands and rubbed them together. " Great, wonderful, perfect. I think we can live with that. Right, Doc Weir?" He looked over at Doctor Weir pointedly, pouring his urgency – his terror – into his eyes and expression. She stared back, confused, even a little annoyed herself, so Kace continued to hold her gaze, pleading silently with her and wishing psychotically that she was a fellow telepath.
Maybe she was, because what she was seeing was finally dawning on her. Not the whole truth, just that something was utterly and completely off kilter, and they needed to get out of here now.
She snapped her head around to meet Morel's gaze. " Yes, I suppose it will have to do."
Morel brightened, and relief filled him like a flash flood. " Good. This can be settled within the day if you are willing to retrieve your commander now. We will even provide escort back to the gate..."
" No need," Weir said. " We came all this way without escort, we can return without escort. And I believe our commander would prefer coming without being surrounded by those dressed uncomfortably similar to the ones who tortured him. I hope you understand."
Morel's smile split his face. " Completely."
Like hell. He just wanted Sheppard here and now, and would have sold his first born and then some to make it happen.
The terms were set, and by evening the Atlantis team was supposed to return. They couldn't get out of the place fast enough, and nothing was discussed until they were out of the building, beyond the front courtyard, back in the woods and back at the jumpers where Sheppard, McKay, and two marines came out to meet them.
" So..." John began, looking directly at Kace with everyone else mirroring him.
Kace scanned for presences, found none, so jumped right in.
" Morel's playing you. He's in on it and in on it way worse than Harl. So it's a good thing you didn't stick around Shep and flashed your scars for the whole world to see. Just seeing your face would have had Morel throwing out excuses for you all to stay a little longer. And by little I mean little - for today, the evening, just until tomorrow. Because tomorrow, or tonight – maybe even this late after noon - our mutual enemy drops by, and by mutual I don't mean Harl. I mean the wraith."
SGA
A/N: At last! I've finally fit the wraith into one of my stories. I never realized before how little I involve the wraith in things, and they were feeling quite left out.
Again, I thank Drufan for aiding me it putting a good ending together. At least I hope it's good, but if it isn't, that'll be my fault, not Drufan's. But it should be good because it was fun just to write.
