Time Immemorial
Chapter 23: In the Driver's Seat
July 17th
0423 Hours
John stared at Antigonos, trying not to let his abhorrence show. The commander stared right back, wearing the same confident expression, unafraid of the challenge. They had sat in silence for a few minutes already as a pair of marines had handcuffed him to a table and relieved him of anything that could prove hazardous.
"Silent before me once again?" Antigonos prodded as the marines took their leave.
"You invade my home. You desecrate its walls. You murder my people," Sheppard summarized. "I was just trying to figure out why there wasn't a bullet in your brain already."
"I imagine your people would claim it is due to your decency. Mine would claim it is due to your idiocy."
"Naturally," John replied dryly. "I've got to say, I like being on this side of the table a hell of a lot more. Of course, I'd like it even better if you cooperated a little."
"I have no doubt."
"I'll take that as a willingness to answer my questions, then."
"I have nothing to hide."
John frowned. "Okay then. Question one: who are you guys, really?"
"We are Lacedami," the commander said simply. He glared back, goading.
"I see. Well I'm glad we cleared that up. You're not really from this planet, are you?"
"No."
"And your little village, the one without any women, children, or elderly, it's just forward operating base - a temporary military installation, isn't it?"
"Yes."
"Did you set it up specifically for your assault on this City?"
"Yes."
Studying the man before him, John tried to get a read on him. He wasn't being chatty by any means, but he wasn't holding back information, either. There were only two reasons John could fathom that explained such a behavior:
Either Antigonos was beaten and knew it, or the Atlantis team was beaten and didn't know it yet.
The latter didn't sit well with John.
"Let's start from the beginning," the major continued. "We know all about your people's ties with the Ancients, and how they couldn't seem to get along with you guys. Personally, I just can't see why. The two cultures had a falling out, they went to war and now you want to finish what your ancestors started by killing all of the Ancients' descendants: everyone on this base and everyone on Earth. Does that about sum it up?"
"An unfair assessment. You will never understand the depth of our hatred for your people-"
"Okay, let me stop you right there. We didn't do anything to you. In fact, any Ancients still hanging around didn't do anything to you, either. This is about something that happened thousands of years ago between people that have been dead for a really, really long time."
"Time does not automatically solve a quarrel, nor forgive atrocities... no more than it heals a wounded heart."
John ignored the dig. "I would have thought you would have been the Ancients' biggest fan, considering they handed you every piece of tech you have."
"Not every piece. We assimilate many items from the cultures we conquer."
"Just your ships and your weapons, then."
"The only good to ever come from that misbegotten alliance."
"So you think that killing a bunch of innocent people solves some age-old grudge match? Doesn't that sound a little petty?"
"I did not put these events in motion, Major Sheppard. I can only play my part. I follow the path the Fates have laid at my feet." He looked John in the eye. "But I will not hide behind my decree, so judge me as you will. I will not pretend that I do not take pleasure in my responsibilities. I live to vanquish. I kill because I must but I slaughter because I savor it."
"Charming."
"It is why the Lacedami have remained unequaled. We ensure only the strongest survive. We are the caretakers of the garden that is the human race, weeding it, ridding of unwanted parasites, pruning the withered fruit, fertilizing it with the blood of the unworthy."
Is that what Elizabeth was to you, some unworthy weed? John thought bitterly.
"Well I'm sure the human race thanks you for your tireless efforts," Sheppard said dryly. "I don't know if your mom dropped you on your head when you were little or your helmet's always on too tight or what, but you've got some screws loose, buddy. Now tell me about your homeworld."
"How is your shoulder?"
John ignored the obvious attempt at digression. "Is it nearby?"
"I never did find out which of your friends were helping you free Dr. Weir-"
"What about your civilization? How many people?"
"I would like to thank whoever they were for continuing your ongoing theme of failure-"
"If you're trying to get me to lose my cool, Commander, it's not going to work this time."
"I should hope not. My jaw would hate for a repeat incident from the mess hall."
John folded his arms. "Am I boring you?"
The commander cocked his head and smirked. "Not at all, Major."
At that moment, Dr. Beckett walked into the room. He brought with him his customary medical bag and a relieved expression.
"Major, am I glad to see you alive an' well," the Scot greeted.
"You, too, Doc," John said honestly. He wasn't sure how the doctor had faired after he had elected to return to the infirmary. And while he was grateful to see Carson, his visit was ill-timed. John stopped him as he opened his bag on the table.
"Now's not a good time, Beckett."
Half-expecting the answer, Carson protested. "I know you dinna share my love for medical exams, but you're hurt an' you need medical attention."
John sighed. I could use bucket of aspirin. "Sure, but later."
"Fine," Carson grumbled. "I'll return at the end of my rounds." He turned his attention to the commander.
"What do you think you're doing?" John objected.
"This man has a laceration on his jaw."
"I know. I put it there."
"He's bleedin'. I need to tend to the wound."
"I don't think so."
Carson folded his arms. "Major, I understand there is no love lost between you two, but he's hurt."
"I'll be damned if he gets medical treatment before all of our people do."
"I took an oath-"
"If you want to fix up the guy that murdered our people, then do it somewhere where I can't get my hands around his neck when you're done. But not now."
"Major-"
"Not now."
Carson looked forlornly at his friend, disappointed at the darkness that had recently surfaced. Elizabeth had been his light, and without her he was an unbalanced wreck. The doctor wordlessly packed up his kit and left the room.
There were a few moments of heavy silence.
Antigonos felt it an opportune time to prod. "Major, I cannot help but notice you are a bit irritable-"
"Shut up. Tell me about the Ancient ascension device."
"What do you wish to know?"
"What were you planning on doing with it?"
Antigonos's sinister grin spread slowly. "Weeding."
The coldness with which the commander said the singular word chilled John to the core. "What sort of ascension powers does it have, exactly?"
"Unknown. We will have the honor of being the first to rediscover them once we reach Earth."
John huffed. "You can stop using the future tense. Sorry, but your little plan's been thwarted."
Silent, Antigonos just stared back, before stating, "You have no concept of the might of the Lacedami nation. Our history is a proud one, and our future will be no different. Our principles are—"
"Yeah, here's a crazy thought: what if I just didn't give a damn? At all?"
The treading of approaching boots interrupted the exchange.
Ford poked his head around the threshold hesitantly. "Sorry to interrupt, sir, but Dr. Beckett mentioned you needed a hand."
Goddamn it, Carson, John thought to himself. He doesn't trust me. He's afraid that I'll kill Antigonos if I'm left alone with the bastard.
"Have a seat, Captain," mumbled John reluctantly. "The commander was just about to tell me about his mission objective. Was your plan actually to fly Atlantis to our galaxy and take revenge upon us Earthlings?"
"They are the descendant of our enemy, the remaining bloodline of the Ancestors."
"And so are millions of others scattered across the universe. You going to kill them all, too?"
Antigonos didn't answer. His silence was as good as an admission of guilt.
"Okay, Adolf. Go ahead. Fly a big, alien spaceship right at Earth." John stood, rallied by their newfound advantage. "You'll be blown out of the sky before you even get close. But if you think you can dodge Ancient drone missiles, an orbital cruiser with a fleet of F-302s, and the entire planet's military forces, then please, be my guest."
The commander remained silent.
"No really, knock yourself out."
With no answer still from Antigonos, Sheppard scoffed.
"If it weren't for Kavanagh - I can't believe I'm actually saying this - you might have actually gotten close. You've got the ATA gene. You got blueprints, manuals, stuff McKay would drool over. You know more about this place than we probably do. So you might have actually been able to pull it off. But you picked the worst day to try your stunt because in case you haven't noticed, we don't have enough juice to run the lights let alone fly this City to Earth. Your mistake was assuming this City was still running on full power. Your list of planets with ZPMs would have really came in handy for you."
"And I suppose that fortuitous accident makes you the victor and me the vanquished."
John smiled. "Almost, but not yet," he answered, listening to his earpiece. All across the City, expedition teams were surrounding the Lacedami patrols. The last had just reported that they were in position.
"See this radio?" John asked Antigonos, waving a handheld transceiver in his hand. "I want you speak into it and tell your guys to lay their weapons down."
"And if I do not?"
John chambered a round on his own weapon and leveled it the commander's head. "Then I blow your brains out-"
"I seem to recall you trying that once already."
"-and tell all of my marines to do the same to your soldiers."
"Major, Major, Major," Antigonos tutted. "You and I both know you would never kill someone in cold blood."
"Well today's been a day of firsts."
Ford watched on, unsure if he should step in.
Antigonos seemed to consider the major for a moment. He nodded. "Very well."
While John depressed the push-to-talk button with one hand and brandished his Beretta with the other, Antigonos delivered orders to his men to stand down. Confirmation that the commands had been obeyed sounded in from all expedition teams over John's earpiece.
"Good work," Sheppard broadcasted to his teams. "Round them up."
"What do you want us to do with them, sir?" asked Corporal Kirkland, one of the team leads, over comms.
"Put them with the others from the mess hall." John looked pointedly at Antigonos. "It's over."
But Antigonos didn't break eye contact, confident even in defeat.
"Alright," John said, reholstering his 9 millimeter, "show's over. Time for you to rejoin your buddies in lock-up."
"Is our time together over so soon?" Antigonos mumbled dryly.
"You know, I really wish you hadn't cooperated so I had an excuse to kick your ass."
Ford uncuffed Antigonos from the table and led him back to the main mess hall. The dozen or so Lacedami soldiers who had once stood post over the captive expedition now knelt bound in a far corner. All were on their knees with hands secured behind their backs, eyes obscured with makeshift blindfolds. Marines kept careful watch.
Antigonos was handed over to a young corporal, who dutifully escorted the leader to the detention area. He was placed under guard with the rest of his troops.
The doors of the main entrance parted and Teyla strode in, leading the first team to arrive back with a Lacedami patrol in tow. The captured soldiers, arms raised above their heads, were directed to join their already restrained comrades on the cafeteria floor. Bates followed with a second group, and Stackhouse with a third.
John stood apart from the others. He searched for the bigger picture. As the Lacedami filed in, looking as stolid as when they first stepped foot on base, John studied them with his arms folded. He noticed he was the only one in the room not in motion: his people milled about, tending to their duties; the recently captured Lacedami were paraded in; the original twelve captors shuffled over to make room for their brethren.
But with his gaze suddenly falling on one character, Sheppard realized he hadn't been the only stationary body in the room. Antigonos, still amongst the flurry, was doing the exact same thing he was: surveying the scene. The commander knelt on the tile as directed by the Atlantis military personnel, but unlike the passive ambivalence displayed by his counterparts he seemed as keen as ever. He looked anything but beaten. His eyes still burned with raw ambition. His head swept left, then right, like a cobra, methodical and calculating.
Try as he might, John was unable to repress the sense that Antigonos was far from beaten. He was not relieved, he was not reassured, and he could not shake the feeling that recent events, though undoubtedly unexpected, had done nothing to dampen Antigonos' ambition.
If we're back in the driver's seat, he thought to himself, why don't I feel in control?
"Major!" he heard someone cry from across the room. Sheppard snapped out of his trance to notice McKay running in his direction.
"What is it, McKay?" he asked wearily, rubbing his eyes.
"Major, we need to talk," a breathless Rodney explained. "Now."
John frowned in worry. "Okay, what's up?"
Opening his mouth to speak, McKay took a look around at all the people - Lacedami and Atlantean both - and thought the better of it. He pulled the major aside several steps and dropped his voice to a whisper.
"I did what you asked: took a look at Atlantis' short-range scanners. They're clean."
"That's good-"
McKay stopped him, holding up a hand. "We've been blind for hours now, so I thought it'd also be prudent to turn on the City's long-range scanners-"
"You did what? How much power-"
"Save your curse words for what I'm about to say next. We've got company. Three ships, headed our way."
John closed his eyes and exhaled. We cannot afford this right now. "More Lacedami?" he guessed.
Looking at his teammate, beaten, exhausted, and emotionally shattered as he was, McKay wished he could spare him the bad news. "It... looks like Wraith," he muttered. "Major, I'm sorry."
John merely nodded. So subdued was the reaction that McKay wasn't sure he had actually processed the intel. After a few more moments of silence he wasn't even sure he had heard him at all.
"We've been hidden for a year," John finally voiced aloud. "How did they find us?"
"Well, remember the signal we discovered emanating from the Lacedami guest quarters? The one that called in their cavalry and started this whole mess?"
"Let me guess: we weren't the only ones to stumble across it."
"Bingo. We located the transmitter on Antigonos' person and turned it off. It's basically a high-powered omnidirectional beacon of Ancient design, set to continuously broadcast. Very simple, actually. Anyone could have picked up the transmission. My guess is that the Wraith saw an Atlantean signal emanating from Atlantis' last known coordinates, put two and two together..."
"Probably the same way these guys found us. How long?
"Until they get here? If they stay on course and on speed, two hours."
Two hours, Jesus, John thought. He wiped his brow and checked his watch. It was almost 0430, which put the Wraith arrival at approximately 0630. It was hardly enough time to do anything.
"Okay," he said with a sigh. "Thanks." He supposed that if he was firing on all cylinders he would have had a more appropriate reaction. He needed a plan, and right now he didn't have one.
Instead of leaving, Rodney stuck around, sensing Sheppard's faltering. "I know I don't have to remind you that without enough power to activate the City's shield, we're sitting ducks."
"I know, McKay. I know."
TBC
Author's note: We're just over halfway through. Thanks for reading!