Time Immemorial
Chapter 20: Backlash
July 17th
0254 Hours
Standing, let alone moving, with a chair strapped to one's back was a difficult thing to manage, but that fact didn't seem to bother the irate Major Sheppard as he closed the several steps between himself and the Lacedami soldiers. On the third stride he launched himself headlong at the pair. As sudden as the action was, Antigonos was quick enough to sidestep the assault. Straton took the brunt of the blow.
Truth be told, John didn't have a clue what he intended to accomplish with this asinine act. He didn't have a plan for after the charge, either. And so he slammed to the floor, a tangled mess of limbs, splintered wood and dented metal.
Straton was part of that mess. The man, as big as he was, had toppled like a tower. Straton got quickly to his feet, shock and anger registering on his face.
Despite himself, John chuckled softly as he lied on the floor, a reaction born from complete disregard for the consequences of his actions and utter indifference to his fate. He just didn't care anymore.
Seeing this only enraged the lieutenant further. Grabbing the major by the shirt, Straton hauled John and the chair up by his left hand only to send him crashing back to the floor with a viscous right hook to the jaw.
John didn't put up a fight - couldn't put up a fight - and fell limply to his side. He felt himself being pulled up for another blow. The second was delivered to his temple and sent him seeing stars. The third set his rib cage on fire.
John thought back to his time as a young pilot in training. All combat pilots were forced to endure the brutal Survival, Resistance and Escape course, to understand what to expect should capture by enemy forces occur. In reality, it was a week of sanctioned Air Force beatings, abuse, and mental and emotional punishment. It had been the hardest week of his life. It paled in comparison to this. While the Air Force brutes were skilled enough to leave no evidence of what had transpired, outward or otherwise, John know that would not be the case today.
As the incensed Straton positioned himself for another wallop, Antigonos finally motioned for his subordinate to stop. Straton didn't looked too pleased at being pulled off his mark but he obeyed. The commander returned his ruffled cape over his shoulder, his only damage incurred during the altercation.
No one moved for several cursed under his breath and paced, a chained pit bull. John lied on the floor, still secured to the busted chair, and caught his breath.
"Right him," Antigonos ordered of his subordinate.
Straton looked at his superior incredulously.
"Right him," Antigonos repeated forcefully, an action he was not accustomed to.
Grumbling words of protest, Straton begrudgingly grabbed what was left of the back of John's chair and yanked it upright. Fighting a sense of vertigo from the abrupt motion, the major let his vision normalize as he sat. Drops of blood from a fresh cut above his left eye partially obscured his sight. Yet he allowed himself a satisfactory smile.
"Listen to me, Earth scum-" Antigonos started.
"That's Major Earth Scum to you."
"Do you find something vindicating in this?" Antigonos demanded. His tone indicated he hadn't appreciated the surprise.
"Yeah: how's that for knowing what I'm about to do?"
"Inspiring," Antigonos responded flatly. "You may be tenacious but you really do not learn. Do you know what I think?"
"I can't even begin to fathom."
"I think that for all of your bravado, all of your supposed disregard for your own welfare, you are still going to help me because there are still dozens of your people on this base... and you know quite well what I am capable of."
John didn't have a response to the bone-chilling threat.
"It appears that our conversation is not over, Major," Antigonos said, looking at the tablet computer Staton had brought him, "and that your time to help me has arrived, albeit sooner than expected. In our attempts to access Atlantis' star drive, one of my squads came across this. Perhaps you can enlighten."
Antigonos flipped the tablet around so that Sheppard could read the screen. It took him several seconds for him to comprehend what he was looking at, because he had only seen this particular program twice before. His furrowed brow of bewilderment melted into an expression of stunned revelation as understanding dawned.
On the screen was a simple interface: four lines, two pairs, each with eight individual spots for characters to be entered. The program was prompting for two codes. Each code was to be entered twice, initially on the first line of a pair and as confirmation on the second.
It was the City's self destruct activation.
Looking at the screen, John noticed that the first pair of lines had already been filled with someone's code. The activation was half complete already. Who the hell..? John thought to himself. There were only four people on base who had the authority to activate the self destruct.
The tiny acronym at the bottom of the first pair of lines, "AC1", made it immediately clear. A login ID was assigned to everyone in Atlantis, a sort of digital signature to trace whereabouts on the network. "A" stood for "Atlantis". "C" indicated the user was a "civilian," so that ruled out John and his delegate, Captain Ford, who had been given "M" for "military." That left only two people.
John saw the "1" and shut his eyes, knowing. Had it been a "2" he would have known Rodney had entered his code. The "1", though, was reserved for the expedition leader. Elizabeth.
Jesus, Elizabeth, is that what you were doing instead of helping me open the goddamn lab door? John thought to himself. His heart felt a twinge of pain. How like her it was to put the expedition before herself, even in her final moments.
John felt the weight behind the purpose of her data entry. It was a message left for him - a choice she had entrusted to him. Elizabeth had placed her faith in his judgement. If there came a time when he deemed that the situation had truly gotten bad enough, she expected him to enter his code, activate Atlantis' self destruct sequence, and vaporize the City rather than risk any threat reaching Earth.
The thought sent chills up his spine. He let out a shaky breath. Sending him a posthumous message like this, like she was reaching out from beyond the grave, challenged his composure. He wanted to break down, cry, scream.
But then he remembered a consequence of initiating the self destruct program and realized the reason it was perturbing Antigonos. The program was written in such a way that once the first keystrokes of data had been entered, additional safety protocols were set in motion. Wisely assuming the need for triggering the self destruct was to quell a legitimate threat to its operations, the City concurrently disabled its three primary functions: the Gate, the shield, and the star drive. Whatever threat was plaguing Atlantis would be confined within, forcibly destroyed with the City, and denied escape to other worlds.
The system lockout did not bode well for Commander Antigonos' cause. The City sat in a sort of limbo. Until Major Sheppard entered his personal code and returned all systems to green, the Lacedami would not not be flying the City anywhere. And while Dr. Weir had conferred John the unenviable choice of whether or not to destroy the City and everyone in it, she had also bought him some time, ensuring that - for the moment - Earth was safe.
John allowed himself a small melancholic smile. Way to go, Elizabeth. Way to go.
The prompt blinked expectantly for him on the first empty space.
Antigonos didn't need to understand the finer points of the security protocols or digital signatures. He did understand, though, that an unexpected obstacle stood in his way and it tried his patience. He had already guessed the identity of the culprit even before showing the tablet to the major; his captive's silent expression confirmed it.
"Major, I am going to assume that a code of yours is needed to complete this sequence," Antigonos opened. He had an idea of how to play this.
"You assume correctly," John croaked tersely. He could feel his swollen left eye trying to close on him. He didn't volunteer that both McKay and Ford, as delegates, could also execute the command. Best to leave them out of this, he thought.
"I also assume that you will not give it to me easily."
"Right again. Two for two."
The commander smirked humorlessly at Sheppard's mettle, still unwavering. "I can make this simple for you. Give me your code and you have my word that no undue harm will come to your people for the the rest of our time here."
Scoffing, John replied, "Maybe you're right, Commander. Maybe I am like you. Maybe I can tell what's in your head, because I know what you just said is complete bullshit."
This time, Antigonos' smile was genuine. He respected this man's tenacity and would enjoy tearing it to pieces. He handed the computer back to Straton before unfolding a piece of paper he had confiscated from the major's uniform. He watched Sheppard carefully for a response.
"That's mine," the major threatened. It had been his gift to Elizabeth to commemorate their first year on Atlantis, the item he had thought he'd misplaced while in her office earlier. While it was battered and worn from the day's events, he wanted nothing more than to have it back in his possession. "Give it back."
"Intrepid until the end, was she not?" Antigonos said delicately. He ignored John's protest.
John stiffened in his chair. They had danced around the subject the whole session. It was not one he was eager to tackle.
"Perhaps I was wrong about Dr. Weir," the commander continued. "I underestimated the fire that drove her, though like yours, her choices as leader were clearly wanting."
"She chose to screw you as her last act," John said heatedly. "I have a hard time faulting that."
"Indeed. It is said that in their last moments, people show you who they really are. Perhaps 'bitch cur' was an inaccurate assessment. I think 'incapable ass' would have been more appropriate."
John racked against the restraints of his chair and slammed his hands into the armrests in frustration. He wanted nothing more than to break free of his bonds, slam the commander's head into the wall and wipe that damned smug expression from his face.
Antigonos chuckled, entertained. "I suspect there are very few things in this universe that rile you, Major, but I do believe I just discovered one."
"Go to hell. I don't care what you believe about me or about her."
"She was well loved by her people, yes?"
"Don't."
"You loved her, did you not?"
"Stop! You don't get to talk about her!"
Antigonos folded his arms and watched the major thrash about in his seat. It was going just as planned. He nodded subtly at Straton, who stepped forward and delivered a brutal blow to his prisoner's jaw as punishment for his outburst.
John keeled over in his seat, the pain temporarily silencing him. He spat out blood once again and willed the ringing in his ears to subside.
"Oh, but I like this," the commander continued cruelly. "In fact, this may be the most rewarding part of this mission: witnessing my ability to make you suffer. Tell me, did you trust her?"
Silence greeted Antigonos. John chose not to throw gasoline on the fire with an answer, but another belt to his head suggested that he strongly reconsider.
"I will only repeat myself once," Antigonos warned. "Did you trust Dr. Weir?"
Unable to raise his head, John let his chin rest on his chest. He fought to steady his breathing, answering between ragged breaths. "If you know me so well then you already know the answer to that question."
"Then your answer is 'yes', I assume."
"Yes, you son of a bitch. With my life, without question."
"Even after you find yourself shackled and beaten. Interesting. Well, I am sure she trusted her life to you as well. Perhaps trust is something taken too lightly within your expedition." Antigonos frowned in disapproval. "How like our common ancestor you are."
John used all of his strength to pull himself upright. He looked his captor straight in the eye. "She could have tried to save herself but she chose to save her people instead. She was smarter, braver, better than you in every single way. She is the reason you won't win, you prick, and if you can't handle that I suggest you go fu-"
Another punch to the head and Sheppard's vision greyed around the edges. The sounds around him went silent for several suffocating seconds before his hearing slowly returned.
"... but I will win, Major; you must know this. Dr. Weir knew this. It was this fact that brought her groveling to me for mercy. She knew she was defeated. The coward came to plead pathetically for her life and those of the other whimpering rodents that scurry about this City."
"She tried to reason with you," John contended. He tasted blood from a newly split lip.
"Reason plays no part when a beaten mongrel begs."
Though he lacked the strength to do so, John tried to charge, incensed at the slander. Immediately Straton slammed him back down into his chair. He tested the strength of his bonds, writhing and slamming into the splintered back rest, frustrated at his inability to do much else.
Antigonos watched on, keenly interested in his captive's behavior. He'd peel back the layers of Sheppard's fortitude like an onion. "Was she important enough to you to kill for?"
"Yes! Goddammit, just-"
"Was she important enough to you to die for?"
At this, John settled. He wasn't sure where this was leading, but it didn't change his answer. "Yes."
Instead of relishing once again in his captive's obvious anguish, Antigonos seemed to lose himself in thought. His eyes unfocused, fixed on nothing in particular.
"There is a fate far worse than death, Major, and that is living through the death of another. Tell me," the commander continued, more to himself than anyone else, "have you ever had to look someone in the eye and tell them it was going to be alright, when you knew in your heart it was not?"
John eyed the commander, trying to make sense of this new tactic.
Suddenly Antigonos focused back on him, his mind back in the present. "You told her it was going to be alright, did you not?"
When I said that I'm not leaving you here, I meant it, John remembered himself vowing. I'll be back for you, I promise.
It was a promise he had broken. John realized that for all of her efforts to protect her teammates, she herself had died alone, and probably terrified out of her mind. And he hadn't been there for her. The thought ate at his soul. It should have been me. I wish it would have been me.
"Why did you want her dead?" Sheppard asked, his voice cracking. He had to know.
"Because she was worth something to you," the commander answered honestly. "And that was worth something to me."
She was worth everything to me, John admitted. And she had no idea, because I never had the guts to tell her. Now it's too late.
"But Major," Antigonos continued, "I think it is time you realize that it was not I who killed her. You killed her. You and all your regrettable decisions proved her undoing."
The statement hit John like a sucker punch. It's not true, Sheppard rallied himself. He's just trying to mess with your head. He's the bad guy here.
"I imagine you want to kill me right now," the commander guessed. He looked at the piece of paper he still held in his hands and folded it, placing it within the folds of his tunic.
John's eyes trailed the folded up paper. "More than you know." He nodded to Straton. "And after I kill you I'm going to kill Hercules here, too. My only regret is that she won't be here to see you fall."
Straton merely huffed and folded his arms.
Antigonos nodded in amusement. "Audacious words from someone whose own end is so near." He nodded to his lieutenant. "I am sure Straton would have preferred her death to have been by his own hand. Ah, well, I suppose he will be cross for the remainder of this mission."
John glowered at him, quite cross himself at the nonchalance with which Antigonos spoke of Elizabeth's death. The tone with which it was described, the affable air with which the commander placed the importance of his own lieutenant's discontent over murder was so insanely preposterous that John was sure the sentiment was genuine.
"I am well aware of your loyalty to Dr. Weir," Antigonos went on. "Now tell me, would you willingly give your life for your people if necessary?"
John pretended to contemplate the query and concluded, "It'd have to be really necessary. But it is in the contract."
Grinning, the Lacedami leader saw through the facade. "Your levity does little to mask your true character, least of all from me. Would you not sacrifice yourself for one of them?" Antigonos asked again, nodding past the closed door to the cafeteria beyond.
"You seem to know all about me, so you tell me."
"I have no doubt, Major. I have no doubt. But would you sacrifice your conscience - would you sacrifice your soul for them?"
John frowned, not following.
"Would they do the same for you?"
John's breath caught in his throat at the unexpected question. He didn't like where this was heading.
"Would the people you swore to protect protect you in turn?" Antigonos continued. "Or is selflessness an unreciprocated virtue among the vanquished? Self-preservation is a powerful motivator, after all."
John went rigid in his seat. Sensing some despicable, impending threat to his teammates, he opened his mouth to reason with the man.
"I propose an experiment," Antigonos interrupted. "Let us see which of those two eventualities transpire." He stood, making to return to the mess hall.
"Whoa, whoa, hang on," Sheppard pleaded, panic creeping into his voice. "This is between you and me, always has been. Let's keep it that way."
"Very well," Antigonos offered. "Give me your code and you will not have to watch more of your comrades die."
Squeezing his eyes shut, John knew the answer he had to give. "I can't do that," he muttered through clenched teeth.
"Ah," the commander mused jovially. "So you elect to have your people die for you. Interesting development. With me, Major."
"No, wait - leave them out of this. I turned myself in — you wanted me, here I am."
"And when you surrendered I thought I told you to surrender your friends, too!" Antigonos yelled, rounding angrily on his captive. "Do not think me a simpleton! Or did you think I would forget? You surely did not act alone while trying to free Dr. Weir!"
John clenched he jaw shut tightly. He hoped Zelenka and Beckett had followed his instructions and were out of harm's way.
"Now we may either hunt them down for this experiment," the commander went on, "or substitute from the dining hall. Your choice."
Shaking his head, John refused to participate in this sick charade. Who was he to choose who received Antigonos' wrath? He wished it on no one but himself but he feared that option was no longer on the table.
"As I suspected. Straton, bring him with me."
As the Lacedami lieutenant reached for him, John renewed his struggle against his restraints to no avail. He fought terribly but Straton merely dragged his chair in tow as the three of them exited the small meeting room, bound for certain trouble in the adjacent mess hall.
TBC
Author's note: Thanks, Marlab. :)