Title: The Pi Covenent
Title: The Pi Covenent
Author: AshtakRa
Fandom: Stargate Atlantis
Characters: Ronon/Lorne, Sheppard, McKay
Rating: PG (for now)
Summary: A comrade recovered, but how much of him remains? Weir mentioned the existence of advanced civilisations but did not elaborate on their intentions - The Pi Covenent could be their doom, or their salvation.
Chapter Five
Stargate Command was just as he remembered it and as Lorne walked down the ramp he briefly wondered why it shouldn't be. The cold lifeless walls, bare concrete and dull red steel; it lacked the functional beauty of Atlantis while retaining the comforting familiarity of human technology. Of course, not everything was how it should be – the personnel in the gateroom were entirely unfamiliar to him and were ignoring him. Almost ignoring him, several gave him side-long glances but then returned to their tasks; as if he was of little interest and certainly not a threat.
The hallways were more of the same. No-one said hello, not even a nod of greeting or recognition; it was more a look of 'we know you're here' but their expressions were as cold as the surroundings. The sound was also strange since there wasn't enough of it. The usual humming of superconductors hidden behind the walls was missing, as was the hammering of constant repairs, construction and most of the background buzz of everyday human interaction.
For all these things it was not too much of a surprise to enter the General's office and find a hooded being at the desk. At any other time Lorne would have gone for his sidearm, raised an alarm – hell he would have dived across the desk if he thought it any good. The slightly refractive qualities of the hood and dark garment tugged at Lorne's memory but he couldn't quite place it. The hood was also too dark to see a face, if there even was one.
"Please, take a seat," said the being, its voice multi-tonal and far from human – not Goa'uld but similar in tone. The hand that motioned had pale skin, almost dead in appearance and supported by a web of copper coloured metal with silver finger-tips that Lorne did recognise; a Goa'uld hand device! Somehow he knew this was not a Goa'uld and he was beginning to suspect he was not at Stargate command.
He remained standing and walked around the desk, reaching for the hood the being did not resist or turn away.
The hood fell back and Lorne stared into his own eyes.
His face, his eyes and his body – but different.
The eyes were black with tiny dots of glowing blue, interweaving webs flowed across cheek and jowl, spiral in nature and reminded Lorne of Celtic designs he'd studied in art class. The skin, like the hand, was pale and lifeless but far from inanimate. The designs were raised, like scars and Lorne wondered if this is how he would one-day look.
"Like what you see?" sneered his doppelganger and only his practiced self-control kept Lorne in place.
"Nox," he answered and the being smiled in triumph.
"In the… flesh," it laughed and stepped even closer, the breath ghosting across Lorne's face. "Clever boy – you manoeuvred me to compartmentalise Integration, locking me away." The silver finger tips traced down Lorne's cheek and rested on his neck, right on his pulse so that Lorne could feel the chill of the metal device.
"You believe you now have control?"
Lorne met its stare. "I've had time to study you, learn how you operate – all I needed was to push you in the right direction."
Nox stared into space, searching its memory. "The battle with the Wraith," it murmured. "Taking on so many, without assistance, was strategically unsound – I would never make that mistake."
"Yet you did," smiled Lorne. "And in doing so gave me my chance – you locked me away and now must suffer the same fate." He pushed Nox back and stepped away, going for the door and what he knew was an exit from whatever place this was.
"Don't forget," snapped Nox, forcing Lorne to halt despite himself. "I am you, I know what you know – your memories are my memories."
"Not all of them," smirked Lorne.
"Ronon," nodded Nox.
Lorne turned around, no longer fearing this reality and seeing it for what it was. "Just a tiny fraction I hid from you – a small collection of memories when compared with a life-time… but it was enough. In your arrogance, your belief in the power of Integration you ignored that what I held back was the very core of who I am."
"And what now?" Nox came around the table, his clothes shimmered to match Lorne's military uniform. "We are still one and the same – there is no you without me, you think you can just remove me?"
"No," said Lorne, shaking his head sadly. "I don't understand you, or your kind – but I know that our existence is symbiotic." He looked to the door. "The others, out there, they are aware of what's happened?"
"A small link has been established," said Nox simply. "You need not fear, they cannot exert control and even if they could…"
Lorne put his hand to the door but paused. "Nox, we don't have to be enemies."
"We're not," spoke Nox, the room fading around him. "I hope you understand that in time."
SGASGASGASGASGA
"Doc, what's happened – is there any change?" said Sheppard quickly as he jogged into the room. They had finished clean-up and the quarantine was lifted; his very first thing once they were threat free had been to come directly here.
"He'll be fine," said Keller. "The burns are superficial and he has rapid healing abilities due to the implants."
"You mean," Sheppard gestured up and down Lorne's body. "They're still working, that didn't burn them out?"
"I'm sorry, no," Keller shook her head sadly. "We estimate he absorbed over thirty stun blasts, the energy would be equivalent to being in a microwave set to overdrive – but he's alive and the implants are still operating, although their energy waves have changed but I can't tell what effect that will have."
Sheppard went and stood next to the bed, looking over at Ronon who sat on the other side, his feet up on the side and arms crossed. He may not have left Lorne's side but he was at least still looking as tough as ever.
"I'm afraid," explained Keller. "That this doesn't change anything, with the implants he will still be Nox."
"No," croaked a voice from the bed. "Nox is… boxed," Lorne smiled at his own bad joke and it was almost enough for Sheppard to believe him. "Its me, maybe not one hundred percent but Major Evan Lorne reporting in… sir."
His eyes flicking to Ronon, who had gone completely still, Sheppard nodded slowly. "I would like to believe that, but-."
"But nothing Sheppard," said Ronon in a low voice. "It's Evan."
Lorne turned to Ronon, a look of both delighted surprise and apprehension crossing his features. "I think the Colonel has a point Ronon," he brushed Ronon's hand lightly, quickly and usually Sheppard would have missed it and wondered how many times he had. "You can't afford to trust me – I don't know if I trust me."
Ronon ignored his words and instead addressed Keller. "He good enough to go?"
"Well I'd like to run more tests, and then there's security to consider-."
Giving a feral grin Ronon reached down and tossed some clothes at Lorne. "That's doc speak for good to go." He spun to Sheppard before he could say anything. "As for security he'll be in my custody."
The Colonel chewed his bottom lip. "Its not that simple Ronon, we can't just release him back to the population – for his own safety as well as our own." Sheppard was thinking of the Texan marine and others who might think like him – who knows what they would try and do to someone they suspected a traitor?
Ronon must have known what he was getting at for he just gave that shrug. The one that said 'yeah, so what' and meant he would do what he pleased. Sheppard let several seconds go by before shaking his head in defeat.
"Low profile and avoid confrontations – just report in regularly okay?"
Lorne paused in the motion of pulling on a shirt and gave Sheppard a quizzical look. "Colonel, strategically speaking that's pretty reckless."
Sighing and stepping forward before clasping a hand on Lorne's shoulder Sheppard dipped his head. "Which is something only my XO would say."
SGASGASGASGASGA
"This is where we first… where it all began."
Across the room Ronon smiled in that predatory fashion and started circling Lorne as if he was at an auction. Lorne knew this game and kept his eyes on Ronon's at all times, turning only when he had to.
"No it didn't."
"Fine," countered Lorne. "Where it started for me."
"Really?" said Ronon gruffly, keeping just within his periphery. "MKJ-149, when we got dunked – you eyed me like a Satedan dance girl; think I didn't notice?"
Lorne laughed self-consciously – it felt good to laugh, to make his body respond without resistance. "I always found water dripping off a hard body difficult to resist."
"The Junter mission," continued Ronon. "A week in that cell without food or water – when you got me out I saw the way you looked at me, how you made Cadman take point so I had to lean on you."
"I was taking one for the team," smiled Lorne. "It was also a week without a shower – you reeked."
Ronon circled closer, his arms had gone loose but his legs betrayed his readiness and Lorne knew it wouldn't be long.
"You know how hard it was to get you alone for a training session?"
"My team figured they had to protect me from myself," explained Lorne, laughing inside at how transparent he'd been. Parrish had figured it out ages ago and when he spoke to Cadman she played interference – believing Ronon would tear him apart if he ever knew of Lorne's interest.
Stopping slightly to his side Ronon pointed one foot at Lorne. "At least you went down fighting."
Lorne knew Ronon was talking about more than just their first time. He also knew what Nox knew and the mission reports were clear. Ronon had come back for him, he'd seen evidence of the battle and probably knew better than Lorne of the aftermath.
"Wouldn't have it any other way," Lorne tensed, knowing what was coming.
Ronon was Satedan, while that meant they had much in common culturally, showing interest and, for lack of a better term, courting, meant something completely different. Or not, in a schoolyard kind of way.
His first swing missed Lorne by a hand's breadth, on purpose as his leg came about to catch Lorne from the other side. Lorne was ready this time though, and his reactions were faster. He dived over the incoming leg, twisting back to grab it and throw Ronon off balance. Ronon almost went down but recovered quickly, using a succession of jabs to keep Lorne on the defensive. Blocking them easily, too easily compared to the past, Lorne realised how fast he was processing everything. In the time Ronon threw a punch Lorne had seen it coming, estimated speed and force and striking point – he could quite literally let Ronon hit nothing but air with millimetres to spare. His physical response was just as quick, his arm or leg would flash out in a blur and block the bigger man, counter-attacking with accuracy he never had in the past.
Ronon kept light on his feet, giving a murmur of surprise and a nod of satisfaction. Best of all for Lorne he could see how dark with desire Ronon's eyes were.
Lorne went on the attack. Short chops made Ronon duck where he was unable to prevent Lorne sweeping his legs from under him. Ronon rolled away but Lorne jumped, faster and further than should be possible, arcing through the air he landed astride the Satedan while he was half-way through a roll.
Ronon was pressed against the floor on his stomach and his struggling ceased. Lorne put his hands on the small of Ronon's back and slid forward, going underneath his thin fibre shirt and snapping it off his head. Ronon's back was a marvel that entranced him every time. Rock hard muscle under dark skin with lightly raised criss-crossed scars. Tracing a finger over the largest scar Lorne felt Ronon shudder beneath him; the movement combined with his own need made him grow hard and Ronon couldn't miss it from Lorne's position perched on his behind.
Pushing the matted hair aside Lorne nuzzled on the back of his neck, sending more shivers through Ronon's body. Secretly Lorne didn't like the hair, but would never say anything – some things you just knew weren't worth mentioning. Grinding his crotch into Ronon's ass Lorne let a growl of his own issue forth and Ronon wriggled, somehow slipping about to face up without throwing Lorne off. Looking into his face Lorne felt the months of captivity slide away; the time trapped within his own body had not been the torture he supposed and for now he was able to push it aside.
He pressed his lips against Ronon's, forcing an opening that he took full advantage of; moving his tongue around he tasted this man and the memory of it gave no justice. Ronon was spice and some sweet tang that Lorne had never worked out – but craved whenever they were apart. An arm snaked around his waist and Ronon lifted them both, his abs quivering with the effort but he did not break contact. This close Lorne could see right into Ronon's dark orbs, they too were as he remembered but contained a hint of something he had never seen in them – doubt!
Pulling back slightly Lorne palmed Ronon's cheek. "It really is me Ronon, seeing you gave me the last bit of strength to put Nox away."
"How much are you sure of that," murmured Ronon, tracing fingers across Lorne's cheek, right where the tattoo had been. Lorne looked across the room, in the mirror facing them and gasped – the tattoo was highlighting. In a heartbeat he stripped his shirt off, a black T it came away easily. Checking out his chest he swore, the spoked tattoos were pulsing away, in a myriad of bronze, silver and gold. He leapt up and backed away from Ronon.
"What's happening to me? He can't do this – he can't!"
Ronon stood slowly, his concern evident mixed with caution. "Maybe its not him, it could just be a reaction to… you know."
Lorne rubbed a hand over them as they already started to fade. "They do feed on ambient energy – heat, electricity," he mumbled more to himself than Ronon. "I don't feel any different – its just me, Evan Lorne. It is just me right? Maybe…" He looked up at Ronon, his eyes wide with fright. "What if Evan is dead, and I'm just a collection of dead memories – Nox said I'm nothing without him, if he meant-."
He was silenced by Ronon's lips and was pushed against the wall. "Memories don't 'feel' Evan," whispered Ronon, using Lorne's first name which he rarely ever did. "Memories can't think, and worry, and most of all," he kissed him again. "If you were just a memory you couldn't do this."
Ronon's hand went south and cupped Evan tightly, bringing him back to full hardness. He gasped and stared up at the ceiling, all thoughts of death and existence evaporating as Ronon palmed his shaft through the thin material of his pants. The same thought must have occurred to them both as Lorne shrugged down the waistline as Ronon hooked a thumb in them and whisked them off. Now it was skin on skin and Lorne groaned loudly as Ronon continued his hand-job while gently biting into his neck. Grabbing Ronon's head and pushing him in harder Lorne muttered, "More." He had never been this aggressive as he thrust in Ronon's hand but the Satedan must have liked it for he pulled back and gave a feral grin.
"Thought you'd never ask." He said gruffly, sliding down Lorne's body, one hand pushing against his chest keeping Lorne on the wall while the other curled around the base of his cock. The first touch of tongue on the underside of his shaft almost made Lorne cum on the spot but Ronon must have been ready and tightened his grip, preventing this from ending too soon. Lorne dared to look down just as Ronon engulfed his head, with seemingly practiced ease he took all of Lorne before pulling back and taking him again. The alternating heat of Ronon's mouth and chill of surrounding air heightened the pleasure and Loren starting panting as the orgasm built – gasping Ronon's name every other breath. Ronon must have known how close he was and sped up his motions until Lorne felt the familiar tightening at the base of his stomach before pleasure overtook everything else and he started thrusting; shooting into Ronon's mouth Lorne never thought to warn and Ronon didn't seem to mind as he swallowed every drop.
Unable to move Lorne lay against the wall, Ronon stood and held him – knowing he need this right now and ignoring his own need. This was what he'd come back for he realised. Not just the sex but the closeness, the proximity of his Satedan boyfriend. The term almost caught in his mind – they had never talked about it and both had pretended it was nothing serious. Now he knew better, and the way Ronon held him and smoothed his hair told him the feeling was mutual.
He may just love this man.
He smiled, truly smiled just for the hell of it since this nightmare had begun. His reflection in the mirror across the room almost removed that smile, the tattoos were still evident. He didn't feel any different though and hope flared – maybe Nox was wrong?
How was it for you?
Lorne flinched at the tonal voice and looked to the side to be faced by Nox – his features just as they had been in Stargate Command.
Then again maybe he wasn't.
Tbc…