Dark Element
Let There Be Light

A dark world leads to the discovery of an Ancient long imprisoned by his own people. The teamis placed in grave danger when Beckett sets him free.

McKay stood before the terminal where his comrades had left him. In retrospect he supposed he deserved this. After all, one doesn't get to be pretty darn brilliant without having to pay out for it. Yet he had never before made the acquaintance of such an unruly machine in all his days…in Pegasus, anyway. There had been that one computer in college. He had been trying to reclaim that 'special schematic' he had been perfecting that the government had confiscated from him. Though he had cracked several layers of encryption, well let us say they could never accuse Rodney McKay of rebuilding his backdoor hardware designed to do exactly what he had been trying to do. The loss of that brilliant bit of work still smarted to this day.

He sighed. The computer wasn't asking for a password. It wasn't trying to test his knowledge of hacking. Hell, he would have given it a pint of blood if it had wanted it in exchange for opening the way to the Stargate, but since the computer wasn't asking for that either it probably wouldn't do much good except to further aggravate the scientist. He had done everything he knew to do and yet nothing worked.

Rodney stared at the screen. It stared back just as coldly, just as blank as ever. His eyes narrows to slits and he crossed his arms defensively. The terminal remained defiant. McKay clenched his fist…

His radio springing to life quite suddenly scared about two years off his life. He jumped straight up, cursed and fumbled until he had the radio in hand. Muttering a very annoyed, "What?" he gave the computer terminal a warning look that said, I'll be back for you later.

"Dr. McKay?" It was Teyla. She didn't sound happy. "Can you hear me?"

He shrugged, brow knit. "Of course I can hear you. This better be important."

"Let me see," he heard Ronon say in the background. McKay sighed when the warrior said into the radio, "We're trapped in some sort of underground bunker. If it wouldn't be too much trouble, would you mind seeing if you can unlock the door?"

There was always something, wasn't there? Rodney rolled his eyes and went back to the accursed terminal. "I can try, but I make no promises. I have yet to figure out how to get this friggen bulkhead out of the way of the transport rings, and if I can't do that it'll hardly matter where any of us die, now will it?"

"Look on the bright side, McKay. There could be Wraith swarming us right now."

"Yeah," McKay murmured, using the terminal to pinpoint their location. "Some bright side. Is Colonel Sheppard with you? Oh, no he isn't. I see you now. Where are he and Carson?"

"They went to explore another part of the complex."

Rodney grunted. "Have you heard from them?"

"Negative. We contacted them briefly after splitting up and the radio broke up. We tried again a few minutes ago and they wouldn't respond."

The reply caused McKay to sigh. God only knew he was probably going to have to save them from this ancient junk heap of a station as well. He tapped his fingers against the console, sifting through the various commands tied into that area of the complex. "The doors are locked," he thought aloud.

"We already had that part figured out," Ronon replied all too seriously.

McKay rolled his eyes. "Well, see the problem is this computer is either so old it's gone senile, or the programmer who built this place had a twisted sense of humor. I can't get the bulkhead to move, and if your locked door doesn't ask for a password…oh crap."

Teyla spoke into the radio. "Dr. McKay?"

"Hang on a minute," the physicist said softly. He stared at the panel before him, his cynicism replaced by nerves. "Trying to bypass the locking mechanism. Just…just stay still, will you?"

Neither responded, so he didn't know if they were heeding his advice or not. He couldn't concern himself to ask at the moment. The computer before him continued its defiance, causing him to slam his hands against the console. "Damn it!" he growled viciously.

"What is it?" Teyla asked calmly. He hated that.

"Not only are you locked down there, but power has been completely shut off. I couldn't unlock the doors if I wanted to without figuring out how to power the system back up."

"Can you do this?"

He thought her question a trifle naive. "Of course I can do it. But you're both beneath the surface in an airtight bunker with no power whatsoever, and I'm not even a tenth of the way down the path of understanding this stupid computer system. Do you see now why I'm a little stressed?"

They were quiet a moment, whether in thought or in fear he didn't know. He heard someone sigh across the radio and wanted to shout for them to stop wasting the limited air supply, but his thoughts were racing a mile a minute and he held his tongue. "Do what you can," Teyla finally said, with that same calm he envied and found aggravating.

"Right," he said, resigned to cutting the conversation off completely so they could conserve their oxygen. "No physical activity. No talking. Nothing that causes heavy breathing…well, you know what I mean. I'll get you out. Just save your air. McKay out."

He turned the radio off without another word. If Sheppard and Beckett landed themselves in trouble, well, that was just going to be too bad for the time being.

Oh, how he loathed these fly by the seat of his pants rescues!

"Ya do understand what relaxin' means, right son?" Beckett asked Sheppard as they exited the complex. The rain had calmed, but would still soak the unfortunate wanderer who braved to walk without cover. Luckily those who had lived here before had foreseen the need for cover and erected steel lattice fitted with glass much like what Sheppard had seen outside the first building. Rain and dark leaves from tall trees on either side fell to the glass like a shroud of beauty and death.

That wasn't what caused Carson's bout of cynicism, however. It was the bloody footprints stained onto the stone path that had him bothered. It the broken planters, the shattered glass strewn along the walk, the little pieces of evidence here and there that spoke of tension and hurry. Someone had blown through here in a rage.

Sheppard shrugged at the doctor. "Hey, aside from that. The garden ahead is nice. We could almost pretend we aren't in the middle of some nut job's house of horrors."

The doctor hummed in response, taking in their surroundings. "Ya know…" he started, but didn't finish his thought. Then it hit him. Carson picked up the pace, causing Sheppard to follow in confusion.

At the end of the path he found exactly what he thought he would. It was the courtyard the computer had shown him. It wasn't as lovely as the map had been, however. Most of the plants that had been under the protective shield of the glass were now dead, having been denied the water needed to sustain them. Dust covered everything and the brick walls around the yard were cracked or crumbling in places.

The fountain in the center was the only thing untouched by the dirt of time's passing. It was large—probably a good 20 feet in circumference. There was no major amount of water in it, however, which was very odd considering the glass ceiling stopped just on the edges of the surrounding stone wall. Years of rainwater should have filled and overflowed.

In the middle was a great statue that was covered by long vines of the same dark leaves that had rained upon the glass along the path. Years and years of growth made the stuff dangle down like a drapery around the fountain. "What's on your mind, Doc?" Sheppard asked, catching up.

Beckett turned towards him and motioned all around. "The computer showed me this place. It wouldna get off this ruddy fountain, lad. And you say lights sprang up, showin' ya the way to the door?"

The Colonel nodded, catching on. "It does seem a bit convenient, doesn't it?"

"There's somethin' else, too."

"What's that?"

Beckett shrugged a bit uncomfortably. "Well, before we left tha' little lab or whatever ya'd call it, I took a look at tha' computer screen an' saw somethin'."

"What?" Sheppard pressed curiously.

The doctor felt a bit sheepish at that point, but knew he had to tell what he had seen, no matter how crazy it sounded. "Well, I saw 'help me' written across the screen."

"Help me?"

"Aye." Carson rubbed the back of his neck. "I thought maybe my mind was playin' tricks on me, perhaps I was tired, but considerin' the other oddities…"

Sheppard nodded his agreement. "Yeah, I see what you mean. Looks like we've got a live one somewhere in the compound, huh?"

Carson hadn't thought that far. He blinked, startled. "Ya think tha'?"

"Well, unless you think it was a preplanned message in a bottle." John gave an innocuous shrug, but underlying that was worry. The doctor could see it in his eyes. This situation was getting stranger each discovery, and the longer they stayed the more potential there was for escalation of that strangeness. Under the circumstances neither of them were entirely interested in seeing what that would bring.

"I wonder if it's our friend from the recordin'," Beckett murmured, drawing back some of the vines to look into the fountain. "The map seemed ta focus on this. But why?"

Brushing away the vines, Sheppard sat down on the rim of the fountain and looked inside. The floor was wet, but not filled as most fountains were. Leaves were plastered like a burnt plum carpet, writhing with each sprinkle of rain that pelted from the sky.

Beckett threw his leg over the side and said, "Would ya look at tha'?" He pointed towards the statue in the center. It was a woman standing in solemn vigilance, a sea of leaves pouring down her stone body. Rain wept down her shroud and made slick the black panel in the base that Beckett was heading for.

About halfway there the ground began to creak. Carson froze when the ground shivered beneath his feet.

"Doc," Sheppard hummed in warning, gazing at the floor of leaves. It sounded as if the surface holding the leaves was wood instead of stone, and if that were the case Beckett could very well take a nasty tumble. "I don't like this."

"And ya think I'm lovin' it, son?" Beckett asked tensely. He looked over his shoulder at Sheppard with hopeful eyes.

John threw his leg over the side as if to get in. "Walk softly," he said. "If that's wood under there then the rain's probably rotted it. With any luck there's dirt just under the floor, but…" The floor creaked as Beckett moved. Something from beneath him snapped and fell off, echoing when it hit a hard surface some yards below. The fountain was quite hollow underneath.

"Lad, I'm walkin' on a bloody deathtrap here..."

He scooted closer to the doctor and held out his hands. "Make a jump for it."

"Oh, right," Carson moaned, trying to keep his balance as the floor began to bow. "What sorta moron makes a fountain out o'wood, anyway?" He hesitated for a long moment, and then made the jump, closing his eyes at the last second.

The creaking floor gave way at the sudden shift in weight. With a squeak Beckett the floor with his chest, his legs falling into the now gaping hole beneath him. He started sliding rapidly. Sheppard dropped to his knees on the stable portion of the floor and scrambled to grab Carson's hands. It was too late. Slippery leaves piled onto him, weighing him down. He moaned as the strain of holding on became too much. The doctor couldn't hold onto the wood anymore. Just as Sheppard dove to rescue him, he let go and fell into darkness.

"Doc!" John barked in a panic. His voice echoed down after the fallen doctor, who hit bottom not long after slipping down.

"Brilliant," Beckett grumbled, glaring up through the hole. He was now on his back, groaning in pain, spitting out leaves that accosted his face. The hole smelled strongly of mold. He coughed.

Sheppard rubbed his chin and sat down on the edge, draping his legs over. "Okay. So it wasn't one of my better ideas. I'll admit it." It was a six-foot drop from top to bottom, so he braved it and landed beside the doctor. "At least you didn't fall far."

Beckett was rubbing his posterior. "I think I broke my bloody tailbone." He took Sheppard's offered help to stand and examined his arm, sighing at the blood trailing down his gray coat. "Would ya look at that? Stupid wood snagged me."

"How bad is it?"

Folding his ripped sleeve back exposed a long scrape along the forearm. Carson touched the tender skin near the cut and winced. "My medical bag, is it…it's over there. There's some antibiotic wet towels in there. And a bandage." Sheppard grabbed the bag and fished through it for the items in question, then watched the doctor clean his arm off.

He helped Beckett wrap the length of gauze tightly around the cut to stop the bleeding, glancing around as he did so. They were in some sort of catacomb hall with plain walls and no light the further one got away from the hole they had just created. "Well, what do you say, Doc? Do we go back up or do we see where this leads?" He aimed his P-90 towards the blackness and turned the flashlight on.

"I'm not sure I want ta know," Beckett replied with a grunt as he tied off his bandage. "The good lord only knows what might be down there. Anythin' from blood ta bones."

"Probably both."

Carson shook his head but made no protest. "We may as well see if it leads to our friend. Go first so ya can fall down the next hole instead o'me."

"Sure thing," Sheppard murmured with a half-smirk. He pointed his weapon and followed the dusty path. Stones along the wall seemed to climb into the illumination with each step. They wound around going further and further beneath the surface of the earth until at last they found the bottom. Sheppard took a step down the ramp into the large room that opened up before them. He cursed.

"Lad?" Beckett pressed, his voice echoing.

The Colonel pointed his light down. The floor glittered and moved. It was wet down here. Very wet. Sheppard glared at the ceiling as a drop of water hit his head. "Well, I'd guess we were in some sort of burial chamber except I'm not seeing any coffins." His light rested on a very blank wall across the way.

Shaking his head, Beckett pointed towards something opposite the ramp. "I wouldn't be too sure. Look there."

Sheppard followed the doctor's pointing with his flashlight. It landed on a slick, shiny surface that looked out of place coupled with the rough-hewn walls around them. They approached and indeed it was long as a man is tall, standing waist high. At the head of it was a window to see within. Sheppard directed his flashlight inside.

A young face, eyes closed in sleep, met their vision. He had dark hair the smooth features of one younger than either of the men peering down. "I don't think he's quite dead," the Colonel murmured. "Must be some sort of stasis chamber."

"Aye," Beckett agreed, running his hand along the chamber's surface. "There must be some sort of control panel on it somewhere." He bent down and looked as his fingers brushed another texture. "Here."

"Should we do this?" Sheppard asked, shaking his head. "I dunno. This whole place gives me a bad feeling. I'm not so sure we should invite more trouble."

"Are ya sayin' we should leave him here? If it was him what left tha' message…" Carson scanned the container and gazed up at him. "Lad, he's an Ancient. Strange. He's a young one, by the looks of it."

The voice from the recording had not been that of an older man, certainly. Perhaps somehow the young man had secreted himself away from the denizens of this dark world, leaving messages so that someday he could be rescued and could rescue his Aila.

"Is it safe to revive him now? Here?"

Beckett nodded a bit uncertainly. Seeing Sheppard pick up on that, he confessed, "Well, as safe as can be expected, given the circumstances. I mean I can open it; it's not that different than those on Atlantis. I won' say it wouldna be safer ta do it in the infirmary, but I don't reckon we'll be gettin' him up there any time soon."

Sheppard rubbed his forehead in thought, then shrugged. "You're the doc, Doc." He moved to the foot of the chamber and aimed his P-90. "Might as well take the precautions we can."

"Aye, though I don't think it likely he'll be much of a threat at first. He's been sleepin' a long while and he'll be weak." Beckett placed his fingers along the panel as he did the computer in the lab and closed his eyes in concentration. It didn't take long for the chamber to light up. Within the young Ancient's face was illuminated by gentle shades of viridian. The sharp thrum of computer circuits being awakened broke the silence around them. Carson cocked his head to the side and gazed into the chamber. "It'll go through a dehiberation sequence before openin' up for our friend here."

The sequence took fifteen minutes to complete, which seemed to trouble the doctor, who forgot the puzzle as soon as it finished. John tensed when the top of the chamber popped up and opened down the center. Within their Ancient friend stirred softly as if being roused from a long nap. He wore the usual mantle of the Ancients, functional and in muted tones, though instead of earthen beige his clothes were spun of the color of ashes. Attached to his wrists were strange looking circuits. John nodded towards the right arm. "What's that?"

Beckett lifted the arm gently and examined the hardware wired into the Ancient. "Don't know, lad." He ran his fingers along the smooth metal. "Warm ta the touch, though, so it must be doin' somethin'. Maybe…" He trailed off.

Pale eyes gazed into the doctor's. The Ancient remained still, assessing both men with a keen, highly intelligent gaze. And then he turned his attention to Sheppard. His tone was very weak and yet very confident at the same time as he said, "Lower your weapon."

Sheppard gripped the P-90 tighter. Something in those eyes made him uneasy.

I promise...whump next chapter. :-O Thanks for reading so far!