Of
Duty, Atonement, and Redemption—Chapter Thirteen
By
SGC Gategirl
xxx
For warnings, comments, summary, etc, please see part one.
xxx
John Sheppard sprinted down the stairs, taking several at once, in his rush to get to Elizabeth's office. Her tense message had come through as he was on final approach to Atlantis, Teyla sitting silently beside him.
Anytime a Hive ship appeared on the long-range sensors, it was a bad thing.
He was speaking as soon as his booted feet crossed the threshold to Elizabeth's office. "So, what else do we know?"
Rodney—looking tired, pale, and drawn—answered, his hands waving, but not as extensively as usual. "Someone was on the ball tonight and informed me that we might be having company in the near future."
John scowled at the seated scientist as Teyla stepped into the room behind him. Ronon shifted silently on his feet from his position on the far side of the room, his arms crossed over his chest. "Something more than that would be helpful."
"Well, yes, of course, but unless you're in the mood to do a little recon and visit the Hive ship and ask where they're going, we don't have a lot of information," McKay snapped, rolling his eyes toward the ceiling. "Right now the ship is about three weeks away from Atlantis, but it might not be heading here."
"So, all we know right now is that there is a Hive ship within a few week's travel time of Atlantis," Weir said, her voice level as she tried to display a calm attitude.
"Yes."
Turning back to the scientist, John scrubbed a hand across his face. "We're going to have to let the Daedalus know to avoid whatever path the ship is taking," he said, thinking out loud. "They're due back in a week or so, right?"
"I'll be able to track their path in a few hours," McKay said. "Once the computer gets more data I can make a better approximation as to their course."
Weir nodded, answering instead. "We'll send a compressed databurst in the morning."
"Good. How about the cloak? Can we use it again"?
McKay sighed, his chin tilting upward. "Of course we can use it again, Colonel. It's just a matter of when and for how long. We don't have an unlimited supply of power. Finite resources and all. I'm sure you're familiar with that." There were some days he wished he could get Rodney to stop using that condescending tone; the one where nearly every sentence was punctuated with the words 'you idiot'. Even if it was not actually said out loud, John knew it was exactly what McKay was thinking.
"We might need a recon mission, then," Sheppard said, his jaw tensing, his mind already spiraling ahead.
"Oh, yes, brilliant plan, Colonel," came Rodney's sarcastic reply as the scientist leaned forward, his elbow resting on his knees, his hands hanging between his thighs, gesturing on occasion. "Let's poke at the Wraith ship and make sure they know we're here." A roll of his eyes toward the ceiling completed the comment.
"You have something better to suggest?" John snapped.
"Of course," Rodney said, the words 'you absolute moron' hanging in the air this time. The physicist straightened, weariness passing over his face before it settled back into one of stubborn determination. "I'm going to watch their flight plan and then report back when and where they might be going. If they so much as twitch in this direction I'll let you know."
"Can the Wraith scan us at this distance?" Weir asked, concern lacing her voice. John was annoyed that he hadn't thought of that question first.
"I don't think so. From what we know of Wraith technology, they don't have anywhere near the range the Ancient devices do. Like I said before we started this whole three-ringed circus, you needed to know what the sensors were picking up, but until we know more there's not much we can do, or should do. Let's not prod the oblivious greenish-blue giant."
McKay paused, his eyes glancing between everyone in the room before he stood. "If that's all, I need to look at the sensor logs before I try to get some sleep. Granted, this will probably give me nightmares, but what else can you expect? Not like this is the safest place to live thanks to the life-sucking aliens that are teeming in this galaxy."
Elizabeth glanced around the room and seeing no further questions, nodded. "We'll reconvene once Rodney can go over the sensor logs. I'm hoping this will just be a false alarm." She held everyone's gaze for a moment before pursing her lips and inclining her head once again. "Have a good night."
McKay was the first one out the door, brushing past him and Teyla without so much as a grunt in acknowledgement. John raised an eyebrow toward the retreating scientist's back, but quickly turned to Elizabeth as everyone else slowly filed out of the room.
"He's in a pleasant mood," John commented, hitching his hip up against the desk, his arms crossed over his chest.
"Who, Rodney?"
John nodded.
Weir shrugged, her eyes dropping to her computer screen. "Seems to be a constant for him lately. A few complaints have filtered in from the science department, but they're the usual suspects."
"Everything quiet otherwise?"
"Apart from the Hive ship, yes. Carson's knee-deep in researching this virus, and until he can come up with some kind of vaccine I'm hesitant to send out any teams. And I think we're going to have some very bored and cooped up personal on our hands very shortly."
"We can probably send some teams to the mainland. Damage is already done," he suggested after a moment. "It might be time to set up some training exercises in any case. Might help to keep everyone's minds off of the possibility of a fatal disease."
Elizabeth nodded. "That's a good idea. You should get started with that in the morning…later this morning." She rubbed a hand across her face, a sheepish expression rising to the surface. "Why do things like this happen when I'm finally falling asleep at a reasonable hour?"
Chuckling, John shoved himself away from the desk, heading to the door. He heard Elizabeth's chair slide back and she was at his side a moment later as they moved to the control room. Nodding to the technicians on duty, they headed down the stairs to the nearest transporter, companionable silence between them.
"You know," John said, his eyes sliding toward Weir as they stepped into the transporter, "you can join one of the teams going to the mainland if you wanted. It might be a nice change of pace, give you the chance to center yourself again."
She shrugged, refusing to meet his eyes, but the muscles along her jaw tightened. When she didn't comment, he let the subject drop. It was too late for debates. He offered her a smile as the doors opened on his level.
"Good night, Elizabeth," he said before turning and walking down the corridor, the promise of his bed and several hours of sleep a welcome siren song for one exhausted soldier.
xxx
The first thing Rodney did when he woke several later was groan and roll onto his back, shoving the pillow over his face to block out the sunlight.
It was obviously later than he normally slept. It was rare these days that he was able to sleep without waking up in the middle of the night shaking from the remains of a nightmare. At least last night, his body had been too exhausted to dream.
One of the benefits of sleep deprivation, coupled with his recovery from various injuries.
He wanted—needed—coffee, but that required a trip to the commissary.
Lying still for several minutes more, his mind already beginning to move, Rodney realized whatever sleep he was going to get was complete. His mind and body were at odds once again—and his brain was winning.
Groaning as the muscles in his back pulled at his still-healing scars, he rolled to the side, finally shoving his body into an upright position, the blankets falling into a pile, his feet landing with a thud on the cold floor. Shivering in his T-shirt and boxers, he pushed off from the bed, staggering to the bathroom.
About ten minutes later, after one of the quickest showers on record, he was pulling on a new uniform, frowning when he realized it was time to do laundry once again. He'd try to remember to drag it down later today when he got a spare moment—as if that would really happen.
Detouring into his lab, he logged onto the main systems and accessed the sensor logs. Writing a quick program to analyze the data, he set it running and moved to the mess hall. He swore he could smell the coffee as soon as the transporter doors opened.
Aiming for the brewing pots, he filled a mug, dumping sugar and cream into the dark liquid and swallowed nearly the entire cup in one gulp. His second mug he carried with him, snagging a few portable products—a muffin and some fruit—before he turned and headed back to the lab.
After several hours, a trip to Carson to get cleared for normal duties, and several cups of coffee later, his laptop beeped, the program finally reaching a conclusion. Rolling over to the machine, he brought up the windows he needed, his eyes quickly scanning the results, narrowing the longer he read.
Tapping his headset, he waited a beat for the channel to open. "Elizabeth, do you have a moment? We might have a problem."
xxx
"From what I've been able to extrapolate, the Hive isn't headed to Atlantis," McKay said, hovering over her desk as he stood before her, his left hand tucked behind his back, his right continually in motion.
"That's good news," Elizabeth said, wanting to relax, but the expression on the scientist's face was giving her a bad feeling.
"True," he agreed curtly, nodding sharply. "But, it will come within sensor range of the planet."
"Which means?"
"Which means that any hint—any at all—of our continued presence here might be all they need to come directly to us."
"How close?"
"They'll pass a solar system away, if that. But that's not the bigger problem."
She cringed. "Do I want to know?"
"Probably not," he said with a shrug. "If we activate the cloak on the city at the point where we think they can see us on their sensors, and keep it on until they pass by, there is a possibility it might not hold for the entire time."
"We need more power?"
"While more power is always good, that's not the main issue. This whole cloak idea we pulled together was a patch at best. It wasn't designed to stay up for days, maybe as long as a week. I'm worried it might drop all together under the strain."
"Can you fix it?"
"Maybe."
"Maybe? That's not like you, Rodney."
His eyes widened at her comment. "While you may think I'm just being modest, you can rest assured that's not the case. The city shield was never meant to be a cloak. Even if I can get another day out of it, it might not be enough."
"Very well," she said, nodding once. "Suggestions?"
"At this point, we can't do much. I'll get a team to work on the cloak. You might want to inform the department heads and tell them we might have to evacuate, just in case."
"Isn't that a little…premature at this point?"
Rodney shrugged, a scowl marking his features. "I said might,not had to. If we can't fix the cloak's stability, I'd strongly recommend it, at least for a few days. The decrease in power expenditure wouldn't hurt either."
"We can't evacuate, not now."
"Why not?"
"We can't risk infecting other planets until Carson can come up with a cure to this virus."
"Virus?" Rodney's forehead furrowed, his eyes narrowing as his the fingers of his right slowed to a stop. "What are you talking about? Why didn't anyone happen to mention something about an infectious alien outbreak to me?"
"Haven't you been reading any of the email message updates Carson's been sending? This has been going on for a week now."
Red touched his cheeks as his chin rose in the air. "Did you forget I was in the middle of the Ancient devices project, not to mention in the infirmary for days after an explosion in the lab? I'm still catching up on the science department emails."
"No," Elizabeth said, gritting her teeth, "I didn't forget. I assumed you were keeping up to date with all the departmental emails."
"You have seen the amount of spam department heads produce, correct?"
"That's not the point. The emails are designed to keep everyone up-to-date on the projects and issues on this base."
"Yes, yes, yes. And I'm supposed to continue to pull miraculous solutions out of my ass every time there's a problem." He scowled, his arms now crossed over his chest. "I need to get back to my lab and get started on finding yet another way to save the city. As soon as I know more, I'll let you know."
Turning on his heel, Rodney was out the door before she had the chance to reply.
Sighing to herself, she pulled up a blank email message and began typing an update, ignoring the twenty unread messages in her inbox that had popped in during her conversation with McKay. She hated to agree with him, but sometimes she felt as if the department heads just created reports to keep her busy.
Some days she hated her job.
xxx
Radek Zelenka yanked off his glasses, tossing them on the workbench. They clattered, and for a moment he feared he might have broken them, but they landed in one piece. He rubbed his hands across his face, pushing his palms into his eyes, trying to ease some of the irritation. His eyes, though, were the least of his problems.
Between Rodney and this backwards database, he was about ready to pitch the laptop across the room.
Muttering in Czech, he rose to his feet and stomped down one of the aisles, checking the shelves for the fifth time, coming up with the same result: there were several devices missing.
At least he thought there were.
A rustle near the front of the room pulled him from the depth of the storage room. Figuring it was one of the science team members looking for a new toy, he took his time. But when he finally rounded the corner, he found one loud-mouthed physicist sitting on his stool and scrolling through the database.
"You left this project to me, insist that I take care of it, and yet here you are," he said accusingly, stepping up beside the other man.
"I'm glad to see your powers of observation have not been diminished in any way after spending the last few days holed up in this room staring at the computer screen," McKay replied testily, his eyes never leaving the display, his fingers tapping a few keys as new information scrolled past.
When Rodney didn't continue, Radek sighed, picking up his glasses. He cleaned the lenses with the edge of his shirt before carefully putting them on the bridge of his nose, adjusting their fit until they were comfortable. "You are here, why?"
Radek thought the quick sidelong glance was going to be his only answer, but Rodney spoke up a moment later, his tone somewhat distracted as he continued his search. "I needed to cross-reference something I found in the Atlantis mainframe. It was easier to find it myself instead of asking you to track it down."
Nodding, he squinted at the screen as he read over Rodney's shoulder. "That is not one of the planets where we discovered these devices," he commented, trying to make sense of the fast-moving data.
"I know," Rodney said absently. "But the devices were linked with several other places in the main database. I was hoping to narrow it down."
"You are working on this project?"
Rodney shook his head. "Just something I was thinking about before, but didn't have the chance to look up." He raised his left hand, tracking his finger across the screen. "A lot of these devices have a secondary planet in common."
"Which planet?"
"I don't recognize the coordinates," Rodney said, cutting and pasting the information into the body of an email message. "I'll check them against the database when I get back to my lab."
Shoving back the stool, he stood, moving swiftly to the door and into the hallway. Radek watched him leave, his jaw dropping open as the grey-clad figure vanished around a corner and out of sight. He should be used to the man and his abrupt nature, refusing to explain things when he didn't want to bother with anyone. But some days he just wanted to injure him—badly.
Today was one of those days.
xxx
John Sheppard rolled his shoulders, trying to remove the ache that had settled there. The first round of training exercises had gone well. It hadn't taken long to pull together enough military personnel this morning. Most had volunteered within the first ten minutes, filling up the two jumpers he'd set aside.
Doctor Weir had been right. Boredom had settled in quickly among the soldiers, especially those who were used to off-world travel on a fairly regular basis. Confinement to the base had been difficult, making them more restless and agitated than usual.
That contained energy, of course, had been released during the exercises, which meant they ended taking it out on each other—and him. He had more bruises than he wanted to think about.
"Ronon," he said, turning around to face the Satedan who was just stepping into the jumper, a slight sheen of sweat on his face, "everyone on board?"
"The last group is coming in now. Clark's limping pretty badly. Looks like Andrews got him good during the last run."
Sheppard rolled his eyes as the ramp slowly rose to its closed position. Groans and the sound of shifting bodies filled the jumper. "That'll teach him to drop his guard."
Clicking his headset, he spoke again. "Lorne, you set?"
"Andrews and Clark are finally here. We're ready. I'll follow you in."
"Acknowledged. Sheppard out." He turned, his gaze washing over the bodies pressed close within the tight confines of the ship. "Make yourselves comfy, folks. Flight time is approximately thirty-six minutes. When we're closer to our final destination, your captain will give you an update on our progress."
Ronon snorted as he leaned back in the co-pilot's chair, but didn't comment further. He'd been quiet recently—quieter than normal that is, John realized absently as the jumper rose into the air. He adjusted the heading and checked to make sure Lorne was on his six. Nodding to himself when the second jumper appeared in his view, he settled back for the ride to Atlantis.
Sending a sidelong glance to Ronon, John wondered what was on his mind. Actually, he speculated about that most of the time. The man was generally unreadable on a good day, but John had thought he'd been getting better at discerning what one look meant from another. It was all in the subtle expression in his eyes, or how high his eyebrow rose compared to other times.
The past few weeks he'd been stonewalled.
"So, enjoy yourself?" he said, offering the proverbial conversational olive branch, wondering if the warrior would take it. With Ronon you never knew.
He grunted noncommittally before verbalizing his comment. "It was fine."
"Fine? Just fine? Sometimes I think you enjoy pounding the marines into the ground."
Ronon shrugged. "It's good to practice, but your men are different than the Wraith, easier to fool."
"Well, if they'd spent the last few years on the run like you did, I imagine they'd be a whole lot better too," he replied, feeling defensive even though Ronon made a good point. Compared to him, none of these men had the same survival skills, or 'kill or be killed' mentality.
"They wouldn't have survived."
"Oh?" John raised an eyebrow, keeping his tone low enough so it didn't carry into the rear compartment. "And you can make that assumption just from watching my men?"
Ronon nodded. "I've seen others just like them. They may last a day, but it wasn't long before the Wraith caught them."
"My men are trained for these kinds of situations."
"They're getting better," Ronon said.
"That's your observation? They're getting better?"
"Yeah. It's the truth." Ronon paused, his eyebrows descending slightly, his eyes narrowing a little. "When is McKay going to go on missions again?"
John turned away, startled at the question. Thinking back, though, he realized a month had already passed. McKay now had off-world privileges again—not that it did him any good right now. Until Beckett figured out a cure, they were stuck. "As soon as we get the all-clear, I guess."
"You'd let him?"
John shrugged, his eyes on the water skimming quickly beneath the jumper. "Why not?"
He could feel the weight of Ronon's stare, but he refused to turn. The Satedan eventually shifted and it eased.
"Anyone think to tell McKay?"
"I don't know. I'm sure he knows what the date is. Why is this so important?"
"It's nothing."
John sighed. He hated conversations like this. Why couldn't he just say what he was thinking? "It's obviously something if you brought it up."
Ronon shifted again, puling John's attention from the water. "I've been watching him since we've been back. And I'm not the only one. He's different."
"Different?"
"Different."
"You might want to elaborate a little. McKay's always been different."
"Closed off. Harsh. Cutting. Cold. He's pulling away."
John's eyebrow rose at the comments and he didn't say anything for a moment, waiting to see if the other man was going to add anything else. "What you just described sounds almost like normal."
Ronon shrugged, his eyes holding Sheppard's. "Ask Lorne if you don't believe me. He knows." Rising to his feet, he moved to the rear compartment, one of the marines immediately pulling him into their conversation.
John watched him for a moment before turning back to the scene outside. It was going to be a much longer flight home than he originally imagined.
xxx
Carson Beckett stepped away from Shelly Laurence's bed, dropping the syringe into the sharps box nearby. The last few days had been horrible. She'd coded twice so far and they'd been having problems regulating her fever. It had settled down a little this afternoon thanks to the nearly constant sponge bath.
He just hoped this magic bullet of his worked.
The lab had finally sorted out all the results and discovered the gene that triggered an immune response to the disease in the ATA humans. They'd been able to synthesize it, and they thought it would work—it just hadn't been tested yet.
He hated doing this, trying things out on humans, but if it didn't work they were going to lose Shelly and that would be even harder to bear.
In a few hours he'd know more. All he had to do now was wait.
xxx
Doctor Weir looked up from her desk as Brian Whitmore knocked lightly on the doorframe, a tablet PC in his hands.
"Doctor Weir?"
"Brian, you have something for me?" she asked, gesturing him to enter.
"I've finally been able to go through all of the gate logs for the past three months to try and find the source of the illness that struck the Athosians," he said, uncertainty on his face.
"You found something?"
"Yes," he said, nodding. "I think I did." He moved toward the desk, leaning over it as he offered the tablet to her. As soon as she took it, he began pointing, taking her step-by-step through the answer. "There have been several off-world trips by the Athosians, but most of them have been to planets where we've been as well, so I had to rule them out immediately—especially since we've been theorizing that the disease began on the mainland and not in Atlantis."
"Yes, Doctor Beckett is nearly one-hundred percent certain that it originated with the Athosians."
"So, that left us three planets," he said, pointing. "One was only two weeks ago, so that one's out, leaving us two."
"How did you narrow it down?"
"It was difficult. After talking to Doctor Beckett about the spread of the disease, I had to cross reference the team members with their location on the mainland. One-and-a-half months ago a team of Athosians went to P8H-391 to trade for grain and other vegetables. They were gone three days and were successful, bringing back several bushels of seed."
"I remember. Teyla was happy about their success and the seed was planted immediately."
"About three weeks later, though, one of the members of that expedition died from complications due to an illness. No one thought much of it: he had been known as someone who was prone to such things."
"And it spread from there."
"Yes, ma'am."
"Do we know anything more?"
"No, not really," he said shaking his head. "The planet is supposed to house a rather large market that caters to peoples from all over the galaxy."
"So, it could have come from anywhere?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"Could it have been given to the Athosians purposely?"
"We'll never know and there's no way to track it. It's well-known that the Athosians have joined forces with us, so it's possible. But how could someone have known they were going to visit the market on that particular day?"
Weir sighed. "So, it's a dead end."
"Yes, ma'am. I'm sorry." Whit more offered a half-hearted smile as he picked up his tablet. "I can email you the full report if you like."
"Please," she said, nodding. "Thanks for all your hard work. I know it wasn't easy."
"I just wish I had a better answer for you." He smiled again before heading back to his post.
It seemed like they were getting nowhere fast.
xxx
Rodney McKay grabbed a tray from the side and shuffled through the dinner line. He was late—again—but the commissary was still relatively busy, mostly full of military personnel. It seemed like there was a testosterone convention today and—big surprise—he wasn't invited.
Sighing, he picked up several items—small salad, a side of dressing, the last blue Jell-o, and whatever the mystery meat of the day was—before heading to the coffee. There was something passing as coffee coming out of the pot, but he wasn't in the mood to argue about it. Adding sugar and cream, he headed for one of the tables in the back, half in the dark.
Settling in, he kept his head down, not inviting company even though he'd spotted Major Lorne and Ronon glancing his way. Pulling his PDA from his pocket, he quickly found the information he was looking for, the data he'd pulled from the mainframe before he'd left his lab.
But instead of concentrating on the information in his hand, he found himself listening to the laughter around him, the chatter, the conversation among the soldiers. There was a time he had that.
He snorted, pushing the food around in his plate. Who was he kidding? He was here to do a job. Nothing less, nothing more.
This afternoon had driven that fact home. He'd visited the infirmary—as Carson had requested—for his final check up after the accident. The doctor had been kind, asking the right questions, his touch gentle as he checked his back, fingers ghosting over the scars.
But through the whole exam, Carson's eyes kept drifting toward the back of the infirmary, back toward the critical care unit where one of his nurses was lying.
At that moment, the tenth time Carson's gaze slid away, Rodney realized whatever attention or comfort the doctor offered him wasn't an isolated incident. Beckett cared about all the patients in the same way, offering the same bedside manner and the same care and concern.
In Carson's eyes, he was nothing special, just another patient—not a friend, just a colleague trapped in a strange and dangerous galaxy fighting an enemy they would never defeat. Anything he'd seen in Carson's hovering, mothering, was nothing more than professional concern.
Friendship was not something Rodney had ever done well and whatever he'd thought he'd managed to find here was obviously something else entirely. He should have known, should have realized. Just because he was in another galaxy didn't mean things would change. Who was he kidding? Only himself, apparently.
Sighing, he dropped his fork, letting it clang against the plate. He pushed the tray away, the food no longer interesting him. Instead, he pulled his PDA closer, squinting to read the scrolling information.
The coordinates he'd found were listed several times in the mainframe, and he'd pulled everything he could find. From the records, it looked like there was another base of sorts on the planet, a secret development center for various chemical agents and weapons. This was exactly what he wanted.
What surprised him more was the recent mission reports that appeared in his data dump. It seems like the planet—code-named M3D-218—had recently been visited by Colonel Sheppard's team. From what he read, they were yet another primitive people, but also friends of Teyla's.
Carson, it seemed, had made a trip there too.
Sighing, he closed the mission reports, flipping back to the planet's overview, beginning with a map listing its placement in the galaxy. It wasn't too far away from Atlantis.
And in the same general area as the Hive ship.
He frowned. This wasn't good.
Shoving away from the table, the chair scrapping against the floor, Rodney hurried out of the commissary, ignoring the stares from the occupants. He could feel them on his back, but if his hunch was correct, they could have a problem.
Once in his lab, he pulled up the program he'd been running in the background, the one tracking the Hive and extrapolating its course and speed. He knew from previous experience that the ship would make several stops along the way, re-fueling on nearby planets.
Pulling up the appropriate file, he checked and cross-checked.
The planet with the warehouse of Ancient technology was the same place Sheppard had visited weeks ago, and the next stop on the Hive ship's path.
Oh no.
xxx
"So, let me get this straight," John Sheppard said, raising an eyebrow and his voice at McKay as they faced off in Elizabeth's office. "You want to go to a planet that is about ready to be culled by the Wraith to see if the mainframe is right about an Ancient weapons lab?"
"It won't take long to find if it's there. I know what I'm looking for," Rodney replied, his chin in the air, his hands crossed tightly over his chest.
"Okay. You're missing my point. The Wraith are going to be there soon."
"And you're missing mine, Colonel," he snapped.
"Gentlemen," Weir cut in, her cool and level voice breaking through. She glanced between the two of them, her eyes narrowed. "Before we make a decision one way or the other, I need some more information. Rodney, how long until the culling begins?"
"Twelve hours, give or take."
"Are you sure about this lab?"
"Positive," he said, nodding once, sharply. "It's listed in both the Atlantis database and the one that Zelenka downloaded."
"Do you really need what's in it?"
Rodney huffed, rolling his eyes ceiling-ward. "Would I ask for something I didn't need? Of course, I do. It's the second half of most of the Ancient devices Zelenka's researching."
"John," she said, turning to him. "What about the people there? Are they capable of putting forth any kind of resistance?"
Rodney snorted, but didn't comment. "No," Sheppard said. "They're a farming community."
"Do you have enough time to evacuate them?"
"What?"
Weir's eyes hardened. "We just formed a trade alliance with these people. I can't just sit here and watch the Wraith cull their entire civilization when we can help them."
John narrowed his eyes. "You want to evacuate the entire village?"
"Why not? We have the room and I'm certain the Athosians could use a hand with the planting and the harvest."
"Because it's a bad idea."
"Well, I don't think it is" Weir glanced between the two of them, the silence settling between them all for several moments. "We need to do this, John. We need friends and this will certainly help in this regard. And if we're going to have the Wraith our own doorstep, we need any advantage Ancient weaponry can give us. You have a go. And Rodney," she added as Sheppard turned to move out the door, "consider yourself returned to full and active duty."
He was almost near the door, Rodney already a few steps ahead of him, when she spoke again. "One other thing. Teyla and Ronon need to remain on Atlantis."
"What?" Sheppard turned, surprise on his face.
"The virus, John. Until Carson has a cure, we can't send them out. Only those with the ATA gene are immune. Find some others to go with you."
He scowled, but nodded in agreement. He hated going into what could be a bad situation without his team. "I'll grab Lorne and Watson. They both have the gene."
"Sounds good," she said nodding. "Godspeed."
Striding out the door, he tapped his comm., signaling for the two men to get prepped and ready to go ASAP. They needed to leave sooner rather than later.
It seemed they were already running out of time and they hadn't even left yet.
xxx
"I need at least an hour," Rodney McKay said, walking side-by-side with Sheppard to the nearest transporter, the other man jogging to catch up with him.
"We don't have a lot of time," he snapped, sending a scowl his way.
"I'm painfully aware of the amount of time we have, Colonel, but if you want this done right, I need to get my equipment together. As much as I was hopeful Elizabeth would agree, I didn't think I'd be the one to go."
They paused briefly outside the door before it opened, depositing two scientists before they stepped in.
"Well, surprise, surprise, McKay, but she did." The doors opened on the level to Sheppard's quarters and he stepped out, throwing his last remark over his shoulder as he strode away. "No more than an hour or I leave without you."
The doors closed, cutting off whatever comment he was going to make. It was probably better off, he realized as the transporter deposited him in the science area. This was going to be the longest time he'd spent with the Colonel in weeks and he might as well not piss him off before they left.
After making a quick detour to his lab, he raced down the steps to the main level, his laptop clutched in his hands. Marching into the main lab, he aimed toward Zelenka who, for once, wasn't hiding down in the storage room. "Radek," he said, pointedly ignoring the scowl the scientist sent his way, "I need you to do something for me."
"Oh, now you want something," Zelenka began, his finger pointing at Rodney as he approached, anger rising on his features. "I don't think it is wise for you to be—"
"Radek, just listen to me," he hissed, depositing his laptop on the workbench, opening the lid. "I need you to keep an eye on this program while I'm gone."
"Gone? Gone where? I thought you were confined to base."
Rodney glanced at the other man. "I thought so too, but it looks like I've gotten a new lease on off-world missions—at least for now." Turning back to the computer, he pointed to the screen. "This program is tracking and updating the projected path of the hive ship."
"Hive ship?"
"Zelenka, would you just listen for more than a few seconds at a time. It's important."
"Fine. It would be helpful to tell me about hive ships before I'm told to track one."
"You need to read your email more often," Rodney snapped, his eyes on the computer. "The hive is headed for the planet we're gating to."
"And you think this is a good idea?"
"No, no I don't, but we need to get there first. Focus."
"Sorry. Continue." Radek waved his hand.
"Right now it says that the hive should be there in about twelve hours, but if this changes in any way you have to let Doctor Weir know immediately. We're going to try to evacuate the inhabitants and we need every second of the time we have."
"I understand," he said, nodding even as his forehead furrowed a little. "Then why are you going?"
Rodney sighed. Why couldn't the man just follow directions without asking fifteen thousand questions? "You know the Ancient devices you're working on?"
Radek nodded.
"This is where they kept the other parts. I have to find it because there might be something we can use to destroy it. Otherwise, we're going to have to keep the cloak up continually for about two weeks."
"But the cloak will not last that long."
"I know. That's why I have to go."
"Oh." Radek paused, glancing from the screen to Rodney and back. "So why are you still here?"
Rodney resisted the urge to strangle the man, instead moving back toward the door. "If anything changes, you'll let Elizabeth know, right?"
"Yes, yes. Go already." He paused, looking up, a strange expression on his face. "Be careful. I have no desire to have your job."
Rodney nodded once, no words coming to mind. Turning on his heel, he headed out into the hallway, his list of necessary items getting longer with every step.
xxx
TBC
