Chapter 6 – Unity
Although deeply unconscious, John moaned. The Wraith's assault had re-broken his arm along the original fracture sites. Now it was bound tightly against his side. Agonizing, stabbing pain was shooting through John's body. Slowly, it was penetrating his drug-numbed brain. Slowly, it was bringing him back to reality.
But would he wake up before they came to drug him again?
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Elizabeth was still susceptible to the echo of the Eloran while she slept. The empathic connection she had to their memories pushed at her mind. It drove her, as Sheppard's pain did, towards consciousness. The imprint of the heroics that took the Eloran's lives might end up saving Elizabeth – and everyone else on Tigan.
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The Wraith moved carefully through the complex in search of Trask-Jep. He couldn't allow the smugness he felt, on the verge of victory, to bleed through into his charade. He had to stay in control and exploit every opportunity he had to wrest this place from the humans. His Queen and two other Hives with which she was allied expected him to succeed, were demanding it. Once his kind possessed the weapon, they would turn it against the galaxy the Eloran had sought to protect. World after world, blinded by illusions of empty and peaceful skies, would fall. Eloran myths of vanquishing the Wraith would be crushed and forgotten.
Wraith-Elizabeth spotted Trask-Jep in a group of three other Tigans. "Officer…Jep, is it? Can I talk with you for a moment? I've heard you've been tracking the Genii rebel and might have some updated information to share."
It took Trask a second to register that the Wraith, and not Elizabeth Weir, was speaking to him. He'd looked like Chief Coro only a little while ago. His reference to the hunt for the Genii, the very thing that had gotten the real Jep killed, was the perfect way to get Trask's attention and leave no doubt as to his true identity.
"Yes, Ma'am, I'd be very happy to speak with you," he said with a smile.
The Wraith and Trask were meeting in a small room Weir had turned into an office.
"So, you've taken care of her? How about Sheppard? There's only so much I can do as this Jep character," said Trask.
"I would not be impersonating the woman if I had not 'taken care of' her, Trask," said the Wraith. "Sometimes I doubt you are as clever as you claim to be."
"Now, Sir, no harm in being cautious. We can't have two Elizabeth Weirs showing up in the same room, can we? And speaking of rooms, where have you stashed her? One of us will need to drug her again in a few hours."
"I locked her inside what you call a 'kitchen.' I doubt anyone will find her. The area is littered with rubble and should attract no one's attention. Sheppard is imprisoned down the hall in one of the sleeping areas."
"Yes, Sheppard! Did he put up much of a fight? How did you get him? Even with his injuries, he must have been a handful."
The Wraith grinned sadistically. "I – what is the word humans use? – seduced him."
"Really!"
"It was not difficult. Each desires the other, but they have not yet found the courage to act upon their urges. I played upon Sheppard's vulnerabilities and lured him into a most perfect trap. He was stunned when I revealed my true self to him. I was tempted to let him proceed with his intimate advances so that I could revel in his disgust afterwards! The sexual drive of your race, Trask, can be a fatal flaw."
Trask gave a snort of laughter. "There are so many worse ways to die, Commander! Don't be so quick to dismiss what you don't understand."
"Working with you is stretching my tolerance for understanding humans, Trask. I am not seeking further experience."
Trask laughed again.
"Here is his image. You must assume it right away. Jep's chimera will soon be fading, and he had limited value anyways. We cannot let much time pass without Sheppard's colleagues seeing him going about his duties. Already it has been more than an hour since I incapacitated him. Earlier, he was complaining about his injuries. We can use 'your' need to rest as an excuse to explain his absence, should anyone ask. And, remember those injuries when you move and walk! The device will ensure that they see the Sheppard they expect to see – a man who was seriously hurt only 4 days ago. But do not unnecessarily test the strength of the mirage by using your 'damaged' limbs as if they were completely healthy. Do you understand me?"
"Yes, yes. Limp with the right leg; don't really move the left arm. Anything else?"
"Yes. Look into Sheppard's mind so you can understand the nature of his relationship with Dr. Weir. I have done that with her thoughts. We risk betraying ourselves if we do not faithfully portray how they behave with each other."
The human nodded. The Wraith could only hope that his instructions had truly sunk into his impatient, overconfident mind.
"Good. Now, go and 'become' Sheppard."
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The Tigan Foothills, still hunting the lone Genii…
"Ronon, we've covered this territory before."
"Are you giving up, Lorne?"
"No, I'm just saying we may be on a wild goose chase. I think one of those creatures got him, or he's hiding out in the mountains. We should survey that area with the Jumpers again. Our scanning technology works perfectly out there. There's none of the interference from the environment that there is in the wastelands. And, we should interrogate his friend again, the only one we arrested."
"Could he have made it through the Gate?" asked Teyla. "Perhaps he eluded the security guarding it, or hid inside something that was allowed to pass through? Gate travel has been hindered for several days; someone could have become careless."
"No way, Teyla," said Lorne. "We haven't let security get that lax."
"It's gotta be the foothills. I was talking to a Tigan officer. He says one of their men tracked who he thought was the Genii late yesterday – into the foothills – but he lost him. I got his search location. I'm gonna check it out – you comin' with me?" Ronon was walking away before anyone could answer.
Trask-Jep had, of course, filed a report listing false coordinates. So Lorne's team found nothing where the report sent them. But Ronon wasn't about to give up.
"That officer must have got it wrong. Let's search further out."
Lorne had to smile. Who was the Major here, him or Ronon?
Sometime later…
Ronon was squatting down next to the cold remains of a campfire. "This is recent. And more than one person was here. Could be the Genii and an accomplice."
"A fifth Genii rebel?" asked Teyla.
"Maybe. Or a Tigan turned traitor," said Lorne. "Wouldn't Zovel love that?"
"Hey, look at this." Ronon had moved from the fire ashes to what was next to them – a large patch of earth saturated with dried blood.
"It could be from something they killed for food. The Genii would need to eat," said Teyla.
"No, there's too much blood for this to be some animal or bird."
"Maybe the Genii got taken by one of those mutants. If he got attacked, there'd be a lot of blood," said Lorne.
But Ronon wasn't buying it. "Nope. If he was taken, where's the signs of a struggle? There'd be blood all over the place. Bits of flesh, torn-up clothes. I don't see anything but a lot of blood in one little spot, like it was poured from a bottle. If someone was slaughtered here, it should be a mess."
"He could have been killed a few days ago," said Lorne. "Scavenging animals could've gotten the rest of him. Rain could've washed away the blood."
"No, it hasn't rained since the night Sheppard got attacked. It's summer here and it's hot. The ground is bone-dry. This blood – Lorne, whatever happened, the blood drained right into the dirt, like a body was lying here, bleeding out nice and slow. That doesn't sound like a man being dragged off by some vicious animal."
"So…?" asked Teyla.
"At least two people made camp here. Maybe one guy turned on the other guy and killed 'em, or…"
"…maybe somebody stumbled upon the Genii and paid the price," finished Lorne. "Let's go back and find out who filed that report and see if we can get anything else out of him."
"Wait a minute." Ronon was digging something out of the brush near the campsite. It was a small name badge, official-looking. There was blood on it. The pin that once held it to a coat was broken. "Officer Selak Jep, Tigan Security Brigade."
"I think we've found who all that blood belonged to," said Lorne.
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The Wraith and Trask, in their stolen personae as Elizabeth Weir and John Sheppard, were alone in the cavern chamber which housed the Eloran weapon.
"They haven't operated it at full strength yet," said Trask.
"No, but that will happen soon enough," said the Wraith. "In fact, we should hasten further tests. We must know as much as possible before we summon our Hives. Is this technology reproducible? Transportable? As much as we vie against each other, no one Hive can control the use of this force. We must be able to construct other weapons. Our efforts may be hindered, however, if they can only function using the green crystal. I have no knowledge of such a unique substance; it may only exist in certain parts of the galaxy."
"You've forgotten another unique factor," said Trask. "Without psychic power, there's no 'death ray'."
The Wraith laughed. "If you had not convinced me of your value, if I had instead given you to our Queen, you would have felt the true force of Wraith psychic strength. In our hands, the weapon will be completely unstoppable."
"Let me ask you: do the Eloran still exist? I don't mean the people that lived here. This place was an outpost. Where's the Eloran home world?"
"Good question, Sheppard," said McKay.
Trask covered the startled look on his face with, "Damn it, McKay, don't sneak up on a person, will ya?" That was close! How could they have been so careless? McKay and several others had entered the cave while the Wraith and Trask, not Elizabeth and Sheppard, had been talking.
"What have you found out, Rodney?" asked Wraith-Elizabeth. He had managed to keep his composure.
"Well, uh, nothing really, Dr. Weir, I was just saying 'that's a good question.' You know the Ancient database didn't tell us much. We're digging through the Eloran computers, but a lot of the information seems to be in code."
"Well, that would make sense, McKay," said Trask-Sheppard. "The Eloran recruited people from all over the place. Would you want a bunch of strangers, maybe spies, learning everything about your secret hideout?"
"Of course not, John," said Wraith-Elizabeth, resisting the urge to grin at the inside joke, "but there has to be something around here that says where the Eloran came from. If their home world still exists, we need to find them."
"Yeah, but you know what?" said McKay. "Maybe they are still out there, but they're protected by another one of those psychic energy beams. They could be right under the Wraith's noses as we speak."
"Oh, that would be terrible, Rodney," said Wraith-Elizabeth. "All the more reason for you to keep digging through the records and find them."
"And I wanna get that 'death ray' fully operational," said Trask-Sheppard. "What's the hold-up?"
"Uh, just being cautious. You saw how powerful it was when we tested it yesterday; you're the one that shut it down."
"Well, that was yesterday. We should give more people the rings and see what happens," urged Trask-Sheppard. "And McKay, Elizabeth and I need to know if the Eloran built anymore of these weapons, or if we could build more. Can you take that thing apart and study it? Does it run only on that green crystal stuff?"
"Well, jeez, Sheppard, just ask me to cure the common cold while you're at it."
"Just get on it, McKay. I want a detailed report this afternoon."
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Lorne approached the Tigan commanding officer of the day and introduced himself.
"How can I assist you, Major Lorne?"
"I need to speak to one of your officers; I don't know his name. He filed a report earlier today about tracking the Genii fugitive into the foothills. I'd like to talk to him."
"Ah, yes. That would be Officer Selak Jep. He is assigned to the Eloran security detail today. You'll find him in the complex."
Lorne must have heard him wrong. "I'm sorry, did you say Officer Selak Jep filed the report?"
"Yes," said the Tigan, "early this morning."
Ronon, Lorne and Teyla exchanged looks.
"Sir, I need to speak with Commander Zovel immediately," said Lorne.
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It was so hard to breathe.
Why…why was he gagged, tied up? He couldn't remember, he couldn't…god, his head was fuzzy.
It was so dark and cramped. His arm hurt so goddamn much.
His arm…oh, god! Elizabeth was a Wraith? No, the Wraith had pretended to…he'd tricked him…oh, ugghh, oh…and now John was, where the fuck was he! And where was Elizabeth! Was she dead?!
He felt around with his feet. A room, a small room – no, he was in a closet. He could see the faintest hint of light outlining the edges of a door.
His arms and hands were lashed tight against his body. He couldn't move his fingers close enough to remove the gag.
He wanted to sleep, to pass out; the drug was strong. No! Kick, Sheppard, kick the fucking door. Make some noise. Find something sharp. Get the gag off and yell.
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Someone was out there.
Hey! I'm in here! His throat was dry from the drug and the gag. He cried out as loud as he could through the filthy cloth.
The door was opening. Yeah!
A man hovered over him. He was backlit, who was it…?
Oh, no.
Please, don't give me anymore, begged John silently, as the needle pierced his neck.
He was conscious just long enough to see his own face peering down at him. "Don't worry, Sheppard, she's still alive," said Trask, "but unfortunately none of you will be for long. Sleep well."
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Trask found Elizabeth where the Wraith had hidden her. He knelt down to give her more of the drug. "You're very pretty, Doctor," he whispered as he brushed the hair off of the sleeping woman's face. "Very nice indeed. I can see why Sheppard wants you." Trask fingered the collar of Elizabeth's shirt. He moved his hand lower until it covered her breast. He slowly rubbed the nipple. Oh, yes…
He dragged Elizabeth out of the cabinet and onto her back. The second hypodermic of sedative fell to the ground, forgotten in his lust. Trask stood up and began unbuckling his pants. The Wraith could handle things on his own for a while.
He'd have to. When Trask went to lie on top of her, Elizabeth, taking a page out of Sheppard's survival handbook, kicked him in the groin. What? Why the hell was she awake!? He staggered backwards and fell, clutching his injured privates in agony. Elizabeth got to her feet, picked up a chair and smashed it down on Trask's head. He stopped moving.
Elizabeth stood staring at the man, wobbly on her feet and breathing heavily. The Eloran's influence on her mind had awakened her, but she was still dazed and exhausted by the sedative. She stumbled over to a chair. She needed to think. The unconscious man on the floor was John Sheppard. He had attacked her. No, that wasn't right. A man that looked like John had been about to rape her. The same sense that had told her something wasn't right with Chief Coro was telling her this man was not John.
Someone was impersonating John. Why? Where was the real Sheppard, was he dead? Why had someone attacked her? If there was a fake John, was there a fake Elizabeth, too?
Elizabeth reached for her earpiece but it wasn't there. She thought about running down the hall, yelling for security. But, no. Who could she trust? What was going on? Elizabeth opened the door and cautiously stuck her head out. The hallway was quiet. The only voices she heard seemed far away. She'd just have to risk it and go find help. She looked at the man on the floor. She'd hit him hard. She didn't have the strength to lock him in the cabinet, and she saw nothing she could tie him up with. Please, god, let him stay out cold until I find somebody, she thought.
Elizabeth crept down the corridor. As she got her bearings she felt an unnerving sensation that Sheppard was in danger. It was the same feeling she'd felt back on Atlantis when he went missing. He was nearby. Elizabeth went from room to room, hunting for John. She reached a door that was locked. Her heart started to pound. In one of the empty rooms she found a lamp with a heavy metal base. She smashed it again and again on the door-handle until it gave way.
It took most of the little strength Elizabeth had left to shove the chair out of the way and break into the closet. "Oh, god, John!" she cried. He lay bound and gagged on the dusty floor, unconscious, pale and very still. "Oh, god, your arm." The cast must be broken, she thought; his arm was tied nearly straight against his body. She pulled the gag off and felt for a pulse. She turned his face towards hers. "John? John, it's me, Elizabeth. John, please wake up!" His eyes remained closed. There were two small red welts on his neck where Trask had given him the sedative. "John, you have to wake up!"
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"Are you sure, Major?" said Wraith-Elizabeth. He, Lorne, Ronon, Teyla and McKay were meeting in 'her' office, hearing the disturbing report about Officer Jep. Trask-Sheppard, to the Wraith's ire, was nowhere in sight. Was it really taking him that long to drug the two humans?
He and Trask had a serious problem. "Dr. Weir," Lorne was saying, "even though we haven't found a body, I strongly believe that Officer Jep is dead and that he was murdered yesterday, if not earlier. And if I'm right, then who the hell – pardon me, Ma'am – who filed Jep's report this morning, and who's been working on the Tigan security detail? I have at least 10 people who swear they've seen Jep today. Dr. Weir, I think we have a spy in this facility, an impersonator, and a damned good one."
The Wraith answered as best he could. "I agree with you, Major. Something is very wrong here."
"Where's Colonel Sheppard, Ma'am? He needs to hear this."
"Colonel Sheppard, uh, hasn't been feeling well. His arm and leg are extremely painful," Wraith-Elizabeth improvised. "I haven't seen him for a while; he may be resting somewhere, with his earpiece removed. I'll go and find him right away."
The Wraith left the room. Where was Trask? It should not have taken so much time to deal with Sheppard and the woman. Unless…Ahhh! If Trask was…entertaining himself with the female, the Wraith would personally castrate him as soon as this mission was complete.
As they filed out of Elizabeth's office, Teyla lagged behind her friends. While everyone was listening to Major Lorne, her focus was on 'Elizabeth.' Something was…off with her friend. The chimera device told her that this was Elizabeth. Her genetic ability to detect the Wraith, however, was pricking away at her subconscious. But the alarm bells weren't loud enough for Teyla to hear – not yet.
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Elizabeth was terrified that at any second she would run into her alter ego, or someone else involved in whatever this conspiracy was about. She needed help desperately. She couldn't rouse Sheppard; Dr. Beckett was her only hope. She was almost at the makeshift infirmary they'd set up when she heard Teyla and Ronon's voices nearby. She gathered her courage and ran over to them. Her heart sank when she saw Teyla's shocked look and heard Ronon's 'Dr. Weir, what are you doing here, weren't you just…?' Things got much, much better when Teyla shushed Ronon, grabbed Elizabeth's arm, and drew them both into a corner.
"I was right. There is a Wraith here who somehow looks like you, Elizabeth," said Teyla. "We must find Colonel Sheppard. Do you know where he is?"
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Wraith-Elizabeth was so intent on finding Trask, and suppressing his desire to strangle the human, that he didn't see Lorne and his men until it was too late. A barrage of Wraith stuns hit him from every angle.
Elizabeth told Ronon where to find Trask, but when he got there the man was gone. Elizabeth hadn't hit him hard enough, after all. Still in his guise as John Sheppard, he had skulked away.
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Sheppard was safe and sound in the Eloran infirmary. Beckett had splinted his arm and encased it in a strong sling; right now, he couldn't take the time needed to re-cast it. He had also injected John with a small dose of adrenaline and had placed a melt-away tablet of medicinal caffeine under his tongue. A saline IV drip was helping to counteract the dehydrating effects of the strong sedatives that had overpowered the Colonel.
"Will that work?" asked Elizabeth.
"It's the best I can do, Dr. Weir, if we want to bring him 'round sooner rather than later. He's heavily drugged, but the adrenaline and caffeine may be enough to safely jolt him awake."
As if on cue, John's eyes suddenly opened and he began to hyperventilate.
"Easy, Colonel, easy. Just breathe slowly and deeply. Let's get you sitting up a bit, OK?"
John looked around at his friends, woozy and confused. His heart was beating too fast and he didn't feel very well. When he saw Elizabeth, panic flashed in his eyes.
"No, John, it's me, the real me," said Elizabeth quickly. She grabbed his hand to reassure him. "I'm not the Wraith."
John stared for a moment at the hand that held his. "There's another 'me' running around here, too," he said weakly. "I don't know who he is, if he's a Wraith."
"We know someone was impersonating you, John," said Elizabeth. "We had him, but he managed to get away. We'll find him. We think he's the Genii fugitive, and not a Wraith." Because a Wraith wouldn't have tried to rape her. But she wasn't going to tell John or anyone else that.
This was a lot of information for John's drug-soaked brain to absorb. But the most important thing he heard was that Elizabeth was alive and safe.
"What about the Wraith? Did you get him?"
"Oh, yeah," said Ronon. "We've got him locked up. He's not talking, though."
"We found this amazing device on him," said McKay. "It's some sort of technology that lets you copy what a person looks like."
"What were they up to? How did they-?" Sheppard's questions were cut off by Lorne's voice booming over the PA system.
"Wraith! We have three Hives that just dropped out of hyperspace and are in orbit around the planet!"
No one had found the tiny beacon concealed inside the Wraith's body. He smiled in his cell as the alarms blared away.
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John sat up in bed, threw off the blanket and pulled the IV out of his arm. His legs started to buckle when he went to stand, but he shrugged off the hands that reached out to help him.
"Elizabeth, McKay," he said quietly, holding the bedrail for support. He was unnaturally calm. "Get all the rings and people that you can, and head for the cavern."
Eighteen people, for the 18 rings they'd managed to grab, stood silently in a circle under the stalactites.
"Just focus, everybody," said John. "We can do this."
But could they? With so many minds at work, a blinding emerald light soared above the planet, searching out the Wraith. But it wasn't enough. They were unskilled and, to be truthful, afraid. They were not the Eloran of myth.
John sensed the uncertainty and fear among the others. No, they couldn't fail! Failure meant death for everyone on this planet, and probably Atlantis, too. But then he felt Elizabeth's hand tighten upon his own. He looked into her eyes and…
An image arose in each of the eighteen minds, uniting and instructing them.
Fire. The burning embers at its heart seethed with intense heat and orange light. Flames consumed, devoured, destroyed the fuel which fed them. And then, when there was nothing left to stoke them, the flames dwindled. The embers cooled. Great hunks of ash fell away in a cascade of death. Light and life faded. Soon all that remained was cold and black and still.
Far above, the dust that was once three Hives drifted in defeat.
Far below, John caught Elizabeth as she fainted.
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Trask knew their plot had failed. He had heard the cheers go up when the destruction of all three Hives had been confirmed. Time to get out of there. The Wraith Commander was on his own.
He overpowered two guards, stole a rifle, and quickly made his way to the tunnels that led to the surface. The force-fields that had been installed when the complex was first discovered would protect Trask from the man-eating mutants.
Unless they malfunctioned.
For some strange reason, just as Trask was entering the tunnels, and only along the route of his escape, several of the barriers failed.
A pack of the creatures was upon him in minutes. He fired shot after shot but there were too many. They brought him down and tore him to pieces. "No, no! Help, somebody help me!" he screamed as his neck was clamped by massive jaws. "Please! Please!-"
Crack.
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Atlantis…
They couldn't get Sheppard away from her bedside while she slept. They couldn't drag him away when she finally woke up.
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A few days later, John found Elizabeth on one of the piers in the late afternoon.
"Hey, who said you could play hooky from work?" John teased with a twinkle in his eye.
"Me! I'm in charge around here, in case you've forgotten," said Elizabeth, smiling. "And," she sighed, "I needed to get away from Rodney and Lorne and everything to do with the Wraith and the Eloran, just for a little while."
John carefully sat down next to her - his arm and ankle were still in tough shape - and dangled his legs over the side. He stared out at the waves. "You're not hiding from me, are you?"
Elizabeth felt her heart jump a little. She looked at him. "John, back at the complex, I-"
"Tried out one of the rooms, huh?"
Even in the fading light of the day, John could see her blush.
"You know I did, too," he said softly.
"John?"
"Yeah?"
"The Eloran – why do you think I could hear them, feel them?"
"I don't know, Elizabeth. Maybe it's because you're a thoughtful, caring person. And, you know, your career has been all about working with people and understanding them, bringing them together." John paused. "Maybe that same sensitivity is, uh, bringing you and me together."
Elizabeth was quiet.
"Oh, god, I just sounded like some sentimental greeting card."
Elizabeth suddenly took his face in her hands and kissed him, a long, sweet, delicate kiss. "No, John, no you didn't," she said with a gentle smile. "Now, about what I saw in that room, between you and I…" That kiss was liberating. She felt her fears slipping away.
"Actually, Elizabeth, I've been dying to tell you all about what I saw," said John mischievously. He drew her in for another deep kiss, then turned her face towards the setting sun…
...which was casting long shadows across the beach. His surfboard was propped up against a palm tree. John was sitting in a lounge chair, staring at the ocean. His muscles ached, but it was a satisfying soreness. 'Never too old for surfing, right, Sheppard?' he thought. He threw more wood on the fire. The flames shot up, alive and vital and bright. He picked up his beer. He took a sip and then held the bottle in front of him, enjoying the play of firelight refracted by the green glass. Droplets of condensation trickled down the cold surface, their paths diverted by John's fingers and by grains of sand.
"Have you got one of those for me?" said the lovely brunette as she walked towards the fire.
"I think I have something better," John laughed, and pulled her down onto the blanket.
The End.