Of
Duty, Atonement, and Redemption—Chapter Fifteen
By
SGC Gategirl
xxx
For warnings, comments, summary, etc, please see part one.
xxx
"Any news?" Elizabeth Weir turned away from the railing when she heard the question, her eyes meeting Radek's. He'd come up silently behind her, his hands clasped together, misery on his face.
She shook her head. "Nothing yet."
"Shouldn't they have checked in by now?"
"Not if the Wraith were there. They wouldn't risk exposing Atlantis."
"So we wait."
Elizabeth nodded. "Yes, we wait."
xxx
Even though the majority of the Mazurkians were hidden away in the Ancient bunker, the culling lasted two more hours, with dozens of darts scouring the area.
Through it the Atlantis teams sat silently in the jumpers, waiting and watching—it sucked to be so vastly outnumbered, to be unable to do anything except sit and watch and wait.
Lorne had picked up the scattered remains of McKay's pack, shoving everything into place before running for the jumper that had settled down a few feet from the cloaked base entrance.
Major Lorne sighed as he shifted in his seat in the back of the jumper room and thought about the mission that had gone wrong. Badly wrong, horribly wrong, every kind of wrong that was possible or impossible.
He kept picturing McKay lying in that clearing, his body so still, head rolled to the side, face slack with unconsciousness, one arm thrown out to the side, the other curled over his body.
He couldn't get the memory out of his mind as the beam raced through the clearing, everything vanishing in its wake.
McKay had been his responsibility and he'd screwed it up, big time.
"Sir," Edison said, his voice filtering through the jumper's systems as Lorne jumped, not expecting the sound.
"Yeah, Major?" Sheppard replied, straightening up in the chair he'd been slouched in, his hands instantly moving to grip the controls.
"All of the darts have returned to the hive," he reported from his position in high orbit. "It looks like they're preparing to leave."
"Thanks," Sheppard replied, a new weariness in his voice. "Get back down here. Once they go into hyperspace we'll pick up the other jumper. We're heading home."
xxx
Rodney McKay swore he was dreaming.
He was drifting, his conscious mind finding it difficult to hang onto more than one thought at a time or for anything longer than a few seconds.
But even as he meandered through his own thoughts and memories, hovering somewhere between slumber and wakefulness, he knew there was something wrong.
Pushing himself, he tried to latch onto what he could feel—hands touching his arms, legs, back, and the now-constant gentle pressure over most of his body.
This was wrong, but his mind was having problems figuring out why his gut was so insistent.
He'd been on Atlantis, he thought, forcing his mind to piece together the fleeting memories he could sort through. No, that wasn't right. He'd been on a planet.
The planet was important.
The information taunted him, just out of his reach, hovering at the outskirts of consciousness.
Struggling, he stretched out, finally grasping a piece, the memory of the Ancient device, and its final component, flowing back to him. One thing lead to another, glimpses of past events surging through his mind.
Sheppard piloting the jumper.
Two teams with separate missions.
Finding the source of the energy disturbance.
Lorne ordering him to wait.
The sight of Wraith drones standing in front of him just as everything turned a bright white before descending into darkness.
Gasping, he forced his eyes open, already knowing where he was, the panic beginning to filter through his body.
He was on a Wraith ship, his body already cocooned in some kind of membrane. Trying as hard as he could, he found he couldn't even wiggle a single finger or toe, his body seemingly paralyzed. Propped up against the wall like a discarded sack of potatoes, he tried not to panic as two Wraith lifted him into a nearby compartment, standing him in place before stepping back.
They moved away, dragging another similarly-bound body to the next area over, repeating the process.
As his hold on consciousness slowly faded, he realized several things.
Instead of a quick and painful death, he was going to enjoy a slow and painful death, ending up as a Wraith's snack a few hundred years from now.
After all his careful planning, the device hadn't been completed. He'd managed to fail even before he began; his life wasted on yet another screw up.
His eyes closed of their own volition; his body and mind succumbing once again to the darkness. He'd find peace here for a little while, until full-fledged panic set in when feeding time came.
xxx
"John," Elizabeth Weir said, trying to raise her voice above the Colonel's, "I can't have you rushing off on what will most likely be a suicide mission on the off chance you'll be able to find Rodney alive and well."
Sheppard scowled, but backed down, crossing his arms over his chest as he leaned back in the briefing room chair.
"But we have to do something," Lorne said, his eyes sliding over to his commanding officer, his tone determined, a hint of desperation tinting the edges. "We can't leave him there."
"I agree, Major Lorne," Teyla said, her quiet confidence filling the room. "We must at least try. He would not do less if it were one of us."
"Teyla, we're most likely talking about a suicide mission. I can't just order—"
"We're volunteering," Sheppard replied, his chair jostling as he let it drop back onto all four legs. His gaze encompassed the entire room. "Look, we know it's a long shot, but we're willing to come up with something. And it wouldn't be the first time we've done something where there was a high probability of it not going well."
A chime interrupted everyone's comments. They all turned as the briefing room door opened. Elizabeth was surprised to see a harried-looking Doctor Zelenka standing there, his body radiating worry and panic.
"I'm sorry to bother, but I believed you needed to see this," he said, stepping into the room, his tablet PC in his arms. He moved quickly to the front of the room, hooking the cable he carried in his hand to the connection on the wall. The screen came to life with information from the long-range sensors.
The image was much different than before.
Weir could feel everyone shifting to lean forward as they examined the screen.
"Please tell me I'm reading this wrong," Sheppard said after a minute of silence.
Zelenka turned toward him, pushing his glasses higher on his nose, his expression serious. "If it appears that the Wraith hive ship has changed course and is now heading toward Atlantis, you are correct."
"But why?" Edison asked, confusion across his face. "We didn't give away our position—"
"We didn't, but they do have McKay," Lorne said, his face grim.
"So they realized where he's from and they're coming to check out the planet, to see if we're still here?" Weir asked, folding her hands in front of her, trying to contain her emotions, her guilt, her worry for Rodney and the fate of the city. Things… should have never come to this.
"Perhaps," Zelenka said.
"How much time do we have until they're here?" Sheppard asked, his eyes squinting as little, still focused on the screen.
"A week, at most. Maybe less," he replied, glancing back and forth between the laptop in his hand and Sheppard. "You have another question?"
The Colonel nodded slowly. From where Elizabeth sat, it looked like an idea was growing in his mind. "Can you calculate the next hyperspace pause?"
"I already have," he replied, the hint of a smile on his lips. "I thought you may ask." His fingers flew over the keyboard and a few beats later the large overhead screen changed. "You can see from this simulation where the hive has stopped and where I believe it will pause once more before it reaches Atlantis."
"So we have one shot at this," Sheppard commented, his mouth set in a thin line.
"One shot at what exactly?" Weir asked, her eyes narrowing at the Colonel.
"At a rescue," he replied, turning back to Zelenka. "How long until the next pause?"
"If they proceed at their current speed and remain on course, three days."
"Then, we have work to do."
xxx
Carson Beckett glanced up from the reports spread across his desk when he heard a light shuffle outside his open door. He'd been trying to read through them, but it was hard. His mind kept drifting back to what he'd heard before—ages before it seemed. The Wraith had arrived early and there was nothing they could do but sit and wait. He'd tried working, but his attention wasn't as it should be. He was getting tired of reading the same sentence over and over again.
Offering a tense smile he gestured for Elizabeth to enter, waving toward the one empty chair in his office—the rest were covered with various items he never got around to putting away.
One look at her face and he knew something had gone terribly wrong. He'd heard the alarm for the incoming wormhole, but when there was no call for medics, he'd hoped—prayed—everyone was safe. But now…
"Is everything okay, lassie?"
She looked at him carefully before replying. "No," she said, her lips pursed. "No, I don't think so."
"Did the team find something?"
She shrugged a little, obviously stalling. "You could say that."
He raised an eyebrow, a fluttering in his stomach. She wouldn't be this…hesitant if it were one of the soldiers. It had to be about Rodney. She was trying to break the news to him about his friend carefully.
Maybe he was wrong. Maybe Rodney was fine. Maybe.
"I'm not gonna like this, am I?"
"No, probably not," she admitted, dropping her gaze to her hands. This time though, he waited her out.
"It's about Rodney." She paused again, guilt and worry flashing across his face before settling back down into the calm mask she wore when people were looking. "I don't know how else to say this, but he was culled."
Carson swore he could feel the blood leave his face at her words. "What? How?" He shook his head, trying to wrap his head around what she'd told him. "What happened?"
"As you know, the Wraith came earlier than we thought and the team was caught on the ground, flatfooted," she grimaced at the word, but kept going, "if you want to use that terminology. Lorne was scouting the Ancient base while McKay waited outside. It was only a few minutes, but that's all it took."
"Oh, Rodney," Carson muttered, closing his eyes against the pain, his head dropping to his hands. Culled. In a way that was worse than dead because the pain and terror could last for years. When he finally glanced up once again, a few beats later, Elizabeth's eyes were kind, understanding.
"I thought you should know. I know you considered him a friend and I didn't want you to hear this through the rumor mill," she finally said, tone hushed.
He nodded, feeling shell-shocked. "Thank you. Are we…is there anything we can do?"
She shrugged slightly. "Sheppard has part of a plan but…" She shrugged. "It's a long shot at best."
"Aye."
"But, if there's a way, any way, we'll find it," she said, her voice strengthening, almost sounding like she meant it.
"I appreciate that, Elizabeth." Carson nodded as she rose to her feet. "You'll let me know?"
"Of course," she said without turning around, but he could tell by the curve of her shoulders and her nearly silent walk that in her mind Rodney was already dead and gone. And he couldn't blame her. There was rarely, if ever, a return from a culling and Carson could never picture Rodney as a Runner.
Putting his head back in his hands, he closed his eyes and tried not to think about what his friend might be going through, what might have already happened.
Rodney deserved more than this kind of end. He deserved to go out fighting, with a bang as it were. It was almost insulting for a man such as him, who lived life loudly, to go out with a whimper as he became just another meal for the Wraith.
But then, life was never fair.
xxx
Trudging down the corridor, McKay's pack hanging limply from the end of his arm, Major Lorne turned a corner and the science labs came into view.
He was tired, worn out, but he wanted to make sure McKay's pack got into the right hands before he buried himself in the bottle of hooch he still had as a welcome present from Doctor Zelenka.
Stepping into the normally-busy labs, he was surprised to see them nearly deserted and silent. He spotted two scientists toward the rear of the large room and Zelenka at his usual station, but the mood was somber.
He shook his head. For a group of people who were nearly spitting on the ground McKay walked on the past four weeks, now they found it in their hearts to forgive him. Unless it was a sober reality check of how close they all were to death.
Scowling at the thought, he moved cautiously in the room, headed for the Czech who was studiously studying his laptop screen, his hands unmoving on either side of the device. Lorne doubted there was actual work going on. If McKay were here, he'd have a fit.
But then, that's why Lorne was here, wasn't it?
Not everyday could he screw up so well by losing the base's chief science officer to a Wraith culling beam. That took a special kind of person.
"Doctor Z?" he asked, pausing finally beside the scientist, his voice hushed.
The other man turned slowly. "Major Lorne," he finally said, his eyes a little less alive than they'd been a few hours ago. "Is there something I can help you with?"
"Actually," he replied, setting the pack down lightly on the desk beside Zelenka's computer, "you probably should do something with this."
"And this is?" he asked, his forehead furrowing as he leaned the bag over, peering inside.
"McKay's."
"Oh." A full minute passed before the Czech continued. "Yes, I should…"
His words trailed off as he released a long breath before he began to sort through the pack, laying everything on the desk as he pulled them free, the tablet PC taking up the most room.
For some reason, Lorne couldn't move, watching as Zelenka sorted everything, pulling bits of grass and leaves from some of the pieces, tossing them in the small garbage next to his workbench.
The scientist paused as he pulled out one device, something of Ancient design. "Problem?" Lorne asked when Zelenka turned to his computer, the fingers of his right hand flying over the keys.
"I'm not sure," he replied absently, his gaze shifting between the screen and the item in his left hand.
"I don't think Rodney actually did anything with that when he was on the planet," Lorne admitted, leaning closer to get a better look. "I don't remember seeing it at all."
"I do not recognize this piece of technology," the other man finally admitted when his fingers stopped typing. "It is not in the main database."
"So where did McKay get it from? He didn't just find it in the middle of the forest."
"I'm not sure," Zelenka replied, rising slowly to his feet, "but I might be able to find out." He moved to the door, pausing to glance over his shoulder. "Coming, Major?"
xxx
Ten minutes later, after several searches of the Atlantis mainframe and an investigation of the database they'd downloaded from the Ancient base, Radek finally had his answer—and he didn't like it.
With Lorne at his side, he marched down the aisle, his fingers stopping on the edge of the empty shelf. He could feel the gluey residue from the double-sided tape and knew the device had been cataloged and stored here just as the data told him.
But Rodney had removed it from the shelf, wiping out any trace of it until Zelenka looked deep enough into the database, finding cross-references to the item he held in his hands.
"So?" Major Lorne asked as he moved back to the computer, following Radek's steps. "Do you know what it is?"
"No, not entirely," he replied, holding out his hand and wiggling his fingers. "Pass Rodney's tablet. Perhaps there is information stored on there."
Several minutes later, he had to admit defeat. While the contents of the tablet were completely available to him, there was nothing specifically referencing the Ancient device. The only information the tablet contained was geared to the new base on M3D-218, including specific locations within the network of passages and rooms. But again, there was nothing to indicate why Rodney had that information.
The physicist had been looking for something specific, that much was certain. But the answers to 'what' and 'why' were still eluding him.
"Is there anywhere else you can look?" Lorne finally asked, one hip leaning against the workbench.
"Perhaps," he replied, opening one of the drawers to dig out some tools. "It may, however, require some breaking and entering."
Lorne's eyebrow rose at this comment, but he didn't protest. "McKay's lab or quarters?"
"Let's try the lab first."
The Major nodded, the muscles of his jaw tight. "Fine. Let's go."
xxx
When the computers—and cabinets, PDAs, desk drawers, and shelves—in McKay's lab yielded no results, Lorne followed Zelenka to McKay's quarters, uneasiness settling over him like a thick, suffocating blanket. Rodney didn't do things randomly. It just wasn't in his make-up. Everything he did had a purpose, an aim, a final, tangible result.
This device, though, and its presence in the pack, had no outward explanation apart from the obvious—Rodney thought it was important, or could be important. So, that left them sifting through all of McKay's belongings, which made them—or at least Lorne—feel like they were treading on holy ground; that they were violating something sacred. They were peering into places where no one—save the man himself—ventured.
"Do you even know what you're looking for?" Lorne asked as they stepped out of the transporter nearest McKay's quarters. It was quiet, the corridors empty. They moved off with a purposeful stride, as if it might give them a special dispensation for snooping.
Zelenka shrugged noncommittally at the question, his hand wavering in the air in an aborted, half-gesture. "I will know it when I find it."
"That's certainly reassuring." Lorne rolled his eyes, adjusting his grip on the Ancient device he was still carrying. Zelenka had asked him to hold it back in the storage room and had yet to ask for it back. Apparently, the scientist wasn't worried about him accidentally breaking it. He wasn't sure if that was good or bad. "And you plan to get past the lock, how?"
"Well, if you cannot get it to disengage, I shall use a different sort of persuasion," he replied, holding up the small package of tools in his hand.
Lorne chuckled, shaking his head, thoroughly amused at the Czech. "I'm sure that will do the trick."
"No trick," he said, offering a tired smile in return. "While Rodney can use thoughts to open doors, I use hands. Different tools, same outcome." Zelenka paused and raised an eyebrow in Lorne's direction. "You, though, have additional choice: C4."
Lorne raised his own eyebrow in response and shook his head as they turned the last corner. About two feet from their destination, however, the doors to McKay's quarters parted with a hushed swoosh.
They stopped, nearly in the center of the hallway, and exchanged a long look. After several beats of silence, Lorne finally asked, "So, was that supposed to happen?"
Zelenka shook his head. "If you did not ask it to open, then no."
Another minute passed before they finally ventured inside, the door closing behind them. Hovering near the entrance, it was as if neither of them knew what to do next. Lorne had never been in here without Rodney present and unless Radek had to retrieve something, Lorne doubted the other man had any reason to have come here alone before either.
The scientist sighed deeply, shifting on his feet before he moved toward the desk and the solitary laptop.
Lorne's eyes, however, continued to wander around the room, widening with each passing second.
There was nothing out of place.
Walking slowly around the room, Lorne was surprised at how neat and orderly everything was—even down to the books stacked on the shelf. Peering into the closet, he found the shoes perfectly aligned, clothes on hangers, the hamper on the side holding a day's worth of clothes—if that.
Not that he'd been here often, but the sheer orderliness of the room was setting him on edge. McKay, while organized, was generally not this studious in up-keeping his quarters—at least as far as Lorne remembered when he was in and out of them over the course of a week.
He glanced toward the other man, now firmly seated at Rodney's desk, his fingers taping on the edge as the machine booted up.
Setting his mouth in a thin line, he continued his circuit, pausing at the bedside table to pick up the science journal sitting on the edge, and thumbing through it. Catching writing on several dog-eared pages he turned it—first one way and then the other—so he could read the notes, nearly laughing out loud. It was one thing for the physicist to yell at people in person, it was another to read his rants in the margins of a magazine.
He wasn't surprised to see the word 'idiot' appear several times. Actually, he was more surprised to see some other, more personal insults, scattered throughout the pages.
But it was Zelenka's sharply in-drawn breath that made him glance up, his eyes narrowing as he turned to the other man.
"Major," Radek said, his voice strangely quiet, a hint of emotion laced within it, "you may wish to come here."
"Doctor Z, what's the problem?" he asked, dropping the magazine on the bed as he circled around it, stopping behind the seated Czech. Leaning down, one hand braced on the desk, he began to read, stopping immediately. "Is that what I think it is?"
Radek nodded slowly. "I believe so."
"But it's addressed to you."
"I know."
"The door opened for you too."
"I know."
"He was expecting you to be here."
"Yes."
Lorne frowned. "Are you going to read it?"
Radek turned, his eyes finally meeting Lorne's. "If you are quiet for longer than a few seconds, yes."
As the scientist turned back to the laptop, Lorne focused on the word processing document, his mind automatically reading it with Rodney's tone and intonation.
Radek,
If you're reading this, you are obviously in my quarters and messing with my laptop, but that's probably because I didn't make it back from the last mission and am presumed missing and/or dead. I'm also assuming you didn't have any problem logging into the laptop with the password I'd given you in case of emergencies. Now, you'll find it has given you access to all of my files, instead of just the few projects you needed to oversee while I am off-world.
There were a few housekeeping items I wanted to go over with you before you start poking around the hard drive—which is why this note appeared first. I figured you wouldn't just minimize the file and start looking for what you came for—unlike some other people I know. Besides, you're probably the only one I trust with the data on this laptop. Also, you're probably the only one who understands most of it.
Don't let that go to your head.
Now, the information.
You'll find all of my current files, projects, and experiments up-to-date and in the "Current Projects" folder. I've written up all of the procedures and my notes for everything I was working on. Within each file, you will also find additional information about future applications or what other research is required before the project can be completed.
All the science department reports have been reviewed up until the morning before the mission. I've marked up all of them—as usual—and left copies of everything in a folder titled "Reports". The "Index" file within will give you an overview of all the projects currently active within the department, as well as some of the pending projects I've green-lighted for future study. They have been prioritized based upon the current level of Wraith activity in the area. Less Wraith equals more time for long-term research.
The "Future Projects" folder contains various notes and ideas for projects to help you run the city more efficiently in the years to come, from maximizing resources within the city and on the mainland to extending the life of the ZPM and possibly re-charging some of the duds we've managed to uncover. Even the crazy hydroponics idea the botanists had is included. Hey, who wants to live on fava beans alone?
I guess most of it is pretty self explanatory, actually. You know about most of the projects already.
So, why am I writing this again?
Oh, yes, I guess more than anything, I'd like you to talk to my sister when you get back to Earth. While Carson is probably a better choice, knowing the man he probably will accidentally spill something. Jeannie can be intimidating when she wants to be. And, in any case, you know the story: I died saving children.
Honestly, I hope my recent actions have helped to give everyone at Atlantis a little more time to prepare for the next big crisis—because we all know it's coming. This should make it later, rather than sooner.
So long, Radek. Watch over my city for me.
Rodney McKay
When Lorne finally finished reading through the note—twice—he moved to the bed, dropping down, his limbs seeming to gain several hundred pounds. Radek seemed similarly shell-shocked.
It was the voice over the intercom that made both men jump, the city-wide page for Zelenka breaking through the thick silence.
He tapped his headset, clearing his throat before he replied. "Radek here."
He listened for a moment before replying. "I was in the middle of something, Doctor Weir. But—"
He paused, waiting for Elizabeth to finish.
"I understand, however, some information has come to light which I believe you need to see. Actually, all the senior staff, as well as Ronon and Teyla. I do not wish to go through this more than once."
He nodded a beat later, catching Lorne's eye. "Fifteen minutes in the conference room. I shall be there. Zelenka out."
Tapping his radio off, he sighed. "They are not going to like this."
"And we did?" Lorne asked, rising to his feet, moving to grab the laptop, but stopped at the shake of the scientist's head.
"I'll bring it, but first, let me send this document to the senior staff and give them time to read it. And then, I need to find information on the Ancient device. I am certain they will have questions"
Lorne nodded. "Right, but you have to move. Clock's ticking."
Calling up the email program, Radek nodded. "This is not exactly the last email Rodney meant to send I do not think."
xxx
TBC
