Stargate Atlantis: Even in the Distance
by Reyclou
Chapter Seven: Eucatastrophe
Sunset cast its auburn hue over the Lantean city, filling the Gaterium with the pallid light of day's end. Within its walls assembled nearly every member of the Atlantis Expedition—a gathering of a dozen nations, countless creeds, and all the colors of the Earth's genetic rainbow. Among them stood representatives of their greatest allies, the people of Athos made up no small number of the attending masses. The military contingent, stood at respectful attention within their ranks, the deep blue of Air Force formal dress dominated the crowd. Among them speckled the black, white and red of the Atlantis Marines.
A podium sat in front of the Stargate, the black-clad Elizabeth Weir dwarfed by the sheer size of the device as she recited the words she had written at McKay's bedside. She dotted her speech with calculated pauses and effectual silence, hoping the impact of quiet would mask the fact she was quickly losing control of her voice. But if anyone noticed, she was in good company. There were more than a few watery eyes in the audience.
Next to the gate sat a solitary Puddle Jumper, its ramp lowered to host a sobering display. The Athosian craftsmen had built John an exquisite coffin—beautiful in its simplicity. Nothing over the top, no ornate scallops or intricate carvings, rather straight lines and simple planes buffed to a mirror-like shine. It looked to be made of something akin to cherry wood—a gleaming lacquer accented the reddish glow. Over this lay the crisp stripes and stars of Old Glory, the stark banner of his service. Beside him rested over a dozen wreaths draped in black ribbons—a wreath for every country represented by the Atlantis Expedition, plus two. One stood for the unnamed countries of Earth, those that had no participation in or knowledge of the Atlantis program, yet still fell under their protection, under his protection. The other wreath stood for Pegasus and all the unnamed souls therein that had been saved by the acts of Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard.
Elizabeth remained cool and collected, though the words she spoke broke her heart a little with every syllable. She had every ear, and yet it seemed she had nothing to say, nothing that could do justice to the bright flame that had winked out far, far too soon.
She looked to the coffin as her speech drew to a close. Her eyes landed on the flag draped over his casket, so definite, so final. It seemed fitting to see it there, draped over a soldier's last bed, and yet insulting in some faint way. He had saved more than a city, more than a country. This expedition united more than a single world; it was a spark that would lead to the salvation and resurrection of an entire galaxy. John was a leader of that expedition, of that spark, over which no mere flag could fly.
Elizabeth swallowed back the tightness that slowly clenched her throat as she recited the last lines of her speech. "And so it is that one so brave, so noble, should not sleep in the cold embrace of earth, but take one last time to the skies which so captured his heart, the skies of Pegasus. May he rest in peace among those stars which first drew the Ancestors here so long ago."
From that moment on, she coasted on autopilot. She stiffly stepped down from the podium. A moment of silence passed. Soft booms sounded in the distance as Atlantis let fly three volleys of drones in salute to its fallen commander. A bugler stepped forward and the sorrowing melody of Taps drifted through the room. Elizabeth had to clear her throat softly a few times to keep the tears at bay. As the last notes of the song faded to silence, two of the military detail stepped toward the casket. Dressed in the formal uniform, the two men woodenly lifted and folded the flag into a tight triangle. With no living family present to accept the flag, the detail leader presented the flag to Dr. Weir, who took it with all the grace and dignity she could muster, though the fabric felt unbearably heavy in her arms.
More men stepped forward to take the sides of the coffin. Slowly, they lifted the long box into the rear of the Jumper, gently setting it into the trappings of a second casket—the casket that would ferry the coffin into the cold of space. The men respectfully retreated, and Dr. Weir, Teyla Emmagan, and Ronon Dex filed into the vessel. Each paid his or her own form of respect as they passed the casket. Elizabeth ran a hand over its smooth lines. Teyla paused for a moment, bowed her head silently in prayer, and moved on. Ronon quietly placed a massive hand on the cold steel, just above the man's chest. He held it there for a moment, breathed, and then withdrew it, joining the others in the front compartment of the Jumper.
Above them, the door to the Jumper Bay opened to let in the fading sunlight. The assembly watched as a small unit of 302's tore through the sky. As the formation passed overhead, one of the ships broke off and pulled into straight climb, disappearing into the darkening night. The other fighters flew on, one less valiant than when they first set out.
The Jumper hatch softly clicked into place and the Ancient ship rose through the heights of the city. Never had a trip into the upper atmosphere felt so long, so methodical, as John Sheppard's last flight to the heavens. When the Jumper at last reached high orbit, the vessel stalled. Wordlessly, the pilot—Major Lorne—worked the controls to release their precious cargo into the solemn cold. The remnants of the flagship team were left to stare in awe as the space casket drifted over the planet they now called home. Propelled by two tiny boosters, the casket shifted itself into decaying orbit.
Elizabeth did not cry as John's casket met the atmosphere, quickly brightening to a hot orange-red as it slipped into gravity's last embrace. Nor did she give into the urge to sob all throughout the long descent home. She looked to the others, watching them as they stared outside. Teyla held back better tears. Ronon remained a grim, silent giant. Lorne, too, appeared respectfully emotionless. Rodney, in his weakened condition, had opted to remain behind. She hadn't fought him on it, but now a part of her wished she had. They all watched as the city once again grew larger in the Jumper's view – each knowing they would return to a city very different from the one they left.
Elizabeth did not cry as she disembarked from the hearse of a Jumper. She showed her support for the soldiers that remained, offered her friendship and solidarity to those that approached her and bid bittersweet goodbyes. It was not until she reached the sanctity of her own chambers that Elizabeth gave into the nagging sorrow, grabbing her pillow from the headboard and sinking into the comfort of her own bed. She pressed her head into its soft warmth and let the tears flow once again.
oOo
Elizabeth did not register cold sand beneath her feet as she sped down the shoreline. There was no bright sun or timid ocean to be found here, rather clouds blanketed the sky and the ocean rolled with a savage wind. Long legs carried Elizabeth over the beaten sand, through the tumbling tide. She did not slow her pace until she came at last to a single hammock set at the water's edge. The ice chest laid on its side, kicked over, its contents long since lost to the sea waves. The hammock, empty, swayed from side to side as the wind tugged at its knots. Elizabeth dropped to her knees, hands clenching the braided rope. She let out a soft sob as she buried her face in the hammock. Despite the chill wind and heavy water, the hammock still felt warm, as if its occupant had only just risen.
The sharp wind brought a voice to her ear. "Dr. Weir?" called a woman's voice. Elizabeth looked up to see a young woman, Anne, making her way across soaked dunes. The wind pulled at her hair and tugged at her dress, but Anne did not fight with its power. It seemed, rather, that the wind bent around her as she strode against the ripping fury. "Dr. Weir, what are you doing here?" She asked as she approached the crumpled woman.
"I had to see him," she sobbed. "I had to see him again. I just can't let him go this way."
Anne blinked in confusion as she called out over the wind. "You saw him every day, every hour. You have seen him as much as one person can within the confines of decency—why must you see him now? What would the sight of him change?"
"It was too soon. It was all too soon," she rubbed a hand over her face. "I know I've watched him walk into danger time and time again—Hell, I've sent him to his death before—but this mission… There was no warning," Elizabeth clung to herself, ignoring the wind that pulled at her curls. "I didn't get a chance to see him, to say goodbye while it still mattered. I didn't get the chance to tell him… to tell him…"
A look of sympathy passed over Anne's flawless face. She knelt beside the woman and her hammock, her soft voice suddenly clear over the sound of wind and ocean. "To tell him what?"
Elizabeth made to answer, but could not quite get the words out. She clenched her fists in frustration. "What does it matter now?" She spat. "He's gone. I didn't want to believe it, I couldn't believe it. I kept hoping there would be some magical being that would pass through the Stargate to deliver the message that he was all right, that he was alive and well on some other plane, somewhere where fire and bullets couldn't touch him," Elizabeth smiled softly, and then shook her head as she thought of a casket and a flag. "But seeing him there, seeing his casket, the cold hardness of the dismal truth…" her head dropped again. "It was just too soon."
"Ascension," Anne whispered excitedly. "That is what you meant, did you not?"
Elizabeth nodded softly, looking up to meet the other woman's bright blue eyes. Anne tilted her head in curiosity. "Why would that make such a difference? The Ascended live an existence separate from your own."
"But as long as he lived on in one form or another, I could sleep knowing true good exists somewhere in this universe, and that is a comforting thought."
The corner of Anne's small mouth turned up at the edges. "There is more to this than either of you will admit."
"What you mean?" Elizabeth asked, confused. Anne put two hands to Elizabeth's shoulders and gave them a light squeeze then, rising, she gathered her skirts. Elizabeth shook her head in confusion, still trying to make sense of the woman's words. "What? What's going on? Anne?" She called, but the young woman only smiled and stepped away. The wind blew again, fierce, and Anne disappeared in a swirl of white and gleaming gold.
oOo
Again Elizabeth woke to an urgent chirp in her ear. She experienced a moment of bleariness as her weary eyes refocused on the familiar surroundings of her quarters. She wasn't sure how long she had slept, but bright sunlight beamed in through the windows, cheering the room despite her dark mood. Stabbing sores shot through her earlobes and Elizabeth groaned as she realized she'd fallen asleep in her good clothes, jewelry and all.
"Elizabeth?" Carson's voice rang in her ear.
Sitting up, she cleared her throat and touched her headset. "Yes, Carson, I'm here."
"Ah, thank God," he sighed. "Elizabeth, we have a serious problem. We found Dr. Kavanaugh unconscious outside the morgue after the service. I can't say for sure what happened, but it looks like he took a pretty heavy blow. But that's not the half of it. Rodney's disappeared again. He must have slipped out of the infirmary just before the memorial service. I don't know how, but no one can find him. Major Lorne is already rounding up search parties, but we've been experiencing some technical difficulties with the city's computers all morning. We can't get reliable sensor readings within the city proper. If McKay is doing this, he doesn't want to be found."
"I'll be right there," she replied, quickly getting to her feet. It took her but a few minutes to strip away yesterday's clothes and slip into her everyday uniform. She ran a quick comb through her matted curls, washed the muck from her face and replaced it with only the bare essentials in makeup before she rushed out the door. She did not care to look beautiful today.
Elizabeth located a transporter just down the hall. Stepping in, she indicated her destination, the Control Room, on the digital layout. The doors let out a soft hiss as they closed around her, and again as they opened. Weir stepped out of the transport even before she noticed her surroundings. She looked up in surprise as she realized she did not stand outside the busy Control Room, but in a dim, dismal section of the Ancient city. Thinking she'd plotted the wrong destination, Elizabeth turned to step back into the transporter, but the sealed doors would not open for anything.
Instinctively, Elizabeth tapped at her ear, signaling for help. "This is Dr. Weir," she stated. "I seem to have sent myself to the wrong destination and the transporter isn't responding. I need to know where I can find an alternate transporter."
She heard no response.
"Hello?" she tried again, but again, heard nothing.
"Great. Just great," she sighed to herself. After all that's gone wrong the last few days, now I have to go and get myself lost. Elizabeth wiped a hand over her brow. She didn't have time to panic. She needed to find another transporter and get herself back to the Control Room before she wasted any more time. Rodney obviously needed help, and she would see to it that he got it. Better get walking, she urged herself, trying to recall where the Ancients would have put another transport.
Her steps echoed through the empty corridor as Elizabeth worked her way down the hall. She'd never seen the city so dark, so lonely, as it felt now. Childhood fears of closet monsters and crooked street thugs haunted her, but she forced sense into her mind. There's nothing here, she told herself. This is Atlantis; there is nothing here that will hurt you.
Elizabeth tried to forget about the nanocite incident that had nearly destroyed her entire expedition a year previous. A transporter, she focused herself, she needed a transporter.
A flashlight wouldn't hurt either, she thought as she continued down the hall.
She felt a sense of relief when she saw light spilling out of a doorway several yards ahead. At least something worked down here, maybe something she could use to contact the Control Room, or a terminal where she could pull up a layout of the city. She certainly didn't want to spend more time than she had to searching for a working transport. Elizabeth breathed in, confident that she could make the best of this unfortunate circumstance. If all she suffered today was a little embarrassment at misdirecting her transporter, well, she'd live.
Elizabeth stopped short at a strange sound—or rather, a sound not so much strange as it was misplaced.
Voices. She could swear she heard voices coming from the lighted room. She took a few cautious steps toward the light just to be sure. Reaching the door frame, she placed a hand on the wall to steady herself as she listened. Shadows moved against the light, a pantomime of two human figures playing along the floor.
"No, no, no!" Rodney insisted, a sharp annoyance in his voice. "What are you trying to do, overload the Naquadah generators? Good one! Let's blow up the whole city while we're at it!"
"Give it a rest, McKay. I'm trying to help!"
Elizabeth sucked in a breath at the familiar voice, distinctly American—a slow rhythm, warm, laid-back, confidant and far too sexy for its own good.
"Hello? Intergalactic super genius, here. I think I know what I'm doing." The scientist hissed back.
"Two words, Rodney. Project Arcturus," the second voice sneered.
"Okay, that was a misstep. I admit it and I've apologized for it. Can you please stop holding five-sixths of a solar system over my head, Colonel?"
Another pivoting step and Elizabeth found herself in the light, staring into the open doorway. Rodney McKay bent over an Ancient panel, his distracted attention torn between the Lantean control bank and the silver laptop he balanced in his off hand. Another man wearing the grey of the Atlantis military stood next to him, thick arms folded in boredom as the scientist worked.
The second man turned suddenly at her soft footfall. His hazel eyes widened in shock.
"Elizabeth?" John blurted.