Conditioned Association5
John sauntered towards the northwest pier. Anticipation made him smile. Not for a moment had he bought her story of a lab set-up. He enjoyed the seductive game. But was bothered by her complaint of not being satisfied. Vowing to himself to make certain she was. As often as it took. He held a single red rose, planning to use it in his own seductions. To run it over her body to tease, to titillate. He wondered if her panties matched the red satin bra she was wearing. He wondered how skimpy it was. Loved how deeply the V-neck had dipped to give him a generous view of her breasts. Loved how the khaki pants hugged her rear so snugly.
He knew she was trying to distract him from his blame, his guilt. Even though she didn't blame him he blamed himself. For his negligence. His mistakes. How close he had come to losing her. To losing the baby. The bruise on her mouth, the cut on her cheek glaring reminders of his stupidity, his culpability. He felt an anger towards his friends, himself. If he could not even protect her in the city where could he keep her safe, secure? He frowned, pushing all of it aside. He needed to focus on Moira. On the sex she wanted. That he wanted. On the foreplay.
He entered the room, fully expecting to have sex with Moira. He froze. Instead he found a group of men standing round, all staring at each other with puzzled expressions. Suspicious. Amused. Quickly he flung the rose behind him onto the floor. Walked to them. Disappointed.
"John! What the hell is going on?" Rodney demanded.
"Did Moira ask you meet her here too?" Carson asked.
"Oh oh. I suspect a plot to get us together," John realized with a frown.
"Oh no! Not another sing-along," Evan complained. "Sir."
"This has happened before?" Ronon asked.
"Oh yes...one of Moira's lovely interventions," Carson informed with a smile.
"So where's the beer?" Rodney asked. "And the food?" He looked round the empty room.
John shrugged. "Hey, I'm as much in the dark as the rest of you."
"Sorry I'm late!" Moira entered the room, wheeling in a covered table. She ignored their stares. She lifted the cover as the men gathered round. The table was full of food. Cocktail weiners, crackers. Cheese and tiny sandwiches. Chips. Bottles and bottles of beer. She stepped back. "Each of you take a beer, please. Then you can eat. Wait! Raise your bottles, please," she suggested. They eyed her, exchanged glances. Did as she asked.
John stepped next to her. "Moira?"
"First, let's drink to Aaron Josephes," she solemnly stated. "A fine man. A fine soldier. Who fell in the line of duty. Who should be remembered for his courage, his humor, his loyalty. To Aaron."
"To Aaron," they chorused. Drank.
"Is this an Irish wake?" Rodney asked.
"No. We will mourn Aaron properly. This, this is something else. We need to confront the other issue now. Get some food, all of you. More beer. Relax. Then we will have a nice chat. No singing, I promise. Please." She stepped away from the table, moved to sit in a chair. Waited, debating what to say, how to approach each one.
The men exchanged glances. Shrugs. "You heard Doctor Sheppard. Let's eat. And drink," John decided to play along. As curious as the rest. Suspicious. They filled their plates, quietly talking as they wondered what the issue was. Moira watched them. Saw their weariness. Guilt hanging on them like shadows. The several quick glances back at her. Their quiet voices, rising and falling in speculation. Curiosity.
John turned. Grabbed a chair and sat next to her. "I saw you, baby. Saw you enjoying my fine, fine ass," he teased quietly.
She smirked. "Yes, sweetie...I do enjoy it. Especially in tight, tight jeans."
He smiled. "Good. Are you going to eat?"
"Later."
"What are you up to, Moira?" he asked. "I was fully expecting to deploy for at least an hour, or two, baby. Now I'm stuck with a partial hard-on and no where to–"
"Ssh, John!" she scolded.
He smirked. Scooted his chair closer to hers. "It's true, baby. You. Me. On that table. Long, long hours of uninterrupted coitus."
"Shut up, John!" she whispered. Elbowed him.
He leaned close, undeterred. "So...the red satin bra. Solid red?" he asked into her ear.
"No," she answered, humoring him. Flirting with him. She sniffed. "Cologne?"
"I thought we were going to have sex, baby. Matching panties?"
"Yes."
"I'm wearing the red boxers, baby. Just for you. I was thinking you could pull them down with your teeth and your tongue."
She snorted. "John! Shut up!" She blushed as the men glanced at her. She elbowed him again. "Behave, colonel. Oops, major."
He smirked. "So...the red satin panties," he said slowly, savoring each word. "Wet?"
"John! Cut it out!"
"They will be, Moira. They will be," he assured, brushed his lips across hers. Sat back. "So...naughty, naughty Moira wants me. Wants me to fuck her to oblivion?"
"Yes, John, now hush!"
"Wet now?"
She sighed. Trying not to laugh. "Hard now?"
"Harder now, after that," he teased, but stopped as the men joined them. Gathering chairs to form a semi-circle. Eating and drinking. Moira waited. Snatched some chips off of John's plate. Earning a playful scowl from him. She smiled.
"Want a sip?" he asked, offering the beer.
"No thanks." She shifted in her chair, glanced at John who knowingly smiled. Eyes roving over her body. She turned away from him, crossing her legs. "Rodney, tell us about the Impulse Blocker."
"You mean the Wraith Detector," John corrected, sipping his beer.
"Specifically," she continued, ignoring him, "it's incredible subsonic capabilities. Could you, for instance, make more of them?"
Rodney swallowed. Drank some beer. "Maybe. The schematics are pretty basic, but the equations for the alternating wave patterns, that's the tricky part. You know, Moira, if we could equip teams with these things we could virtually render the Wraith's psychic powers null and void! The practical applications are staggering."
"Then it's a good thing you were able to assemble it and get it working, Rodney," she enthused. "Could you set it near the 'Gate? In the 'Gate room maybe?"
"Sure! I mean, it would require some modifications, of course, the power structure and the alignment to our own systems. To..." he snapped his fingers, becoming animated, " a low-level output that would be harmless to us, to anyone but able to block any waves affecting the brain, the neurons, the visual centers of perception! In fact if I could widen the parameters even further I could effectively defend the entire city from such incursions!" He smiled.
Moira smiled, nodded. "Excellent thinking, Rodney!" She turned slightly. "Carson, could such a device detect the deep hibernation cycles?"
Carson swallowed his beer, thinking. "Aye, maybe. Yes, Moira, at a precognitive level there would still be minor brain activity. To sustain a bare minimum of life, to create the illusion of death..." He nodded. "Of course! Moira, their level of hibernation isn't compatible to human systems but to the Iratus bug! Maybe that explains the additional Iratus bug DNA in the queen, the females! A different chemistry, a whole genetic evolutionary jump!"
"Can you isolate it? Alter it in some way?"
"Possibly...let me work on it. If we can infiltrate that state of being, state of mind we won't be vulnerable again. I can create counter measures against the Iratus bug DNA from the enzyme itself, the additional concentrations of proteins!" He smiled.
Moira smiled. "You can do it, Carson." She turned slightly. "Ronon, in your experience are the Wraith queens the most powerful?"
"Yes," Ronon answered, setting down his empty plate, his beer. "Yes. The females wield the most power, but the queens...I never had much contact with them, but yes. They control the hive. Are seldom out of it, actually, as far as I know."
"Interesting. Yet this particular queen was. You say that is unusual. They would send the males to do their dirty work?"
"Yes, Moira. I think that's what threw me. The sight of a queen out of her hive. Alone. As if she had been displaced. Or replaced. Rivalry is ripe between queens, between hives. With so many awakening and the limited food sources. Even the scarcity of queens."
"If you could draw up a basic outline of their society that would be helpful. Queen, warrior, scientist, drones, but mainly the females. Keepers. The queen...whatever else you may have encountered."
"I'll try, Moira. If we can understand their society we can understand their weaknesses." He smiled. "And keep this from happening again."
"Thank you, Ronon. Your expertise is invaluable." She turned the other way, crossing her legs again. "Evan, does the city have a lot of back ways and short cuts unaffected by the lock down?"
"Yes, Moira. Well, as far as I have discovered. Each leads to and from a lab. Yours, as you know, leads to the Jumper bay."
An escape route. A safe passage outside the lock down," she surmised. "Where else?"
"Physics lab. Leads to the cafeteria."
"Why am I not surprised?" Carson quipped. The men laughed.
"Really?" Rodney asked. "You will have to show me!"
"Med lab to the southwest pier. The docking pad for the Daedalus," Evan continued, thinking. "Botany leads to the underwater bay. Each accessible even in the event of a lock down."
"Give the similarity of the city's design, each section, each tower would have these back-up exits all over? And are they secure?"
"Presumably they would exit all over. The Ancients design was pretty uniform. Simple, really. Repetitive. So I would say yes. These back ways are a failsafe, in case of a lock down. Get the scientists to safety. As for security we could easily make them so. Construct key pads and pass codes for each section of stairs." He smiled.
"Good thinking, Evan. We want to keep those back ways accessible but need to avoid enemy ingress," Moira stated.
"I will check the other sectors against the schematics. Draw up a basic plan. We can compare it to the city grids Rodney has."
"Does that include unexplored areas?" Rodney asked. "There's still large sections of the city we haven't even fully explored yet."
"Probably," Evan shrugged.
"Why would the Ancients be so careless? I mean, back doors? Anyone could access them," Ronon reasoned, shaking his head.
"For all their cleverness they seem to be full of hubris," Carson observed.
Moira nodded. "True. But look that we've done. We raised the city. Held it secure. Held the Wraith at bay. Pretty much by ourselves." She turned to John. "Right, John?"
"Yes." He sipped his beer. Watching her. Listening. Admiring. Seeing exactly what she was doing. Turning their guilt into positive action. Their failures into proactive reasoning. Projects. Allaying their blame into action. In effect easing them out of feeling responsible for what had happened. What had almost happened. He wondered how she would work her magic on him. Decided to be stubborn.
Moira inwardly sighed. Knew John would be the most difficult. Had the most guilt. Bore the heaviest responsibility. Was smart enough to see what she was doing. To not fall for it. Not easily. "These advances we've made...you don't think they will help us?" she asked, attacking from a different angle.
"No. I mean, they will. Yes."
"I see. So we're no better than the Ancients. Or worse," she prodded.
"I didn't say that. I–"
"So we should just turn tail and run. Give up like they did," she continued, gaze locked with his. "Leave the galaxy, these people, this city to its fate." She knew he'd never accept that.
"They didn't run or give up, Moira. They ascended," Carson corrected.
"Which is the same thing!" John declared, suddenly angry. "Fuck the Ancients! Look at the hornet nest they left behind them! What a joke! A city that is automated to turn on its own residents! Unless you happen to have that fucking ATA gene, that is. It's more trouble than it's worth! It's elitist, Rodney, you were right. What about the people who don't have it? Who didn't? Just let them suffer, let them die? The Ancients didn't give a shit. But we do. And then the Wraith. I know what your theory is, Moira," he pointed at her for a moment. "And I agree. The Ancients created the damn things in the first place! Then couldn't defeat them. So they up and left. Screw the rest of the galaxy! They just up and left. Cowards. Fucking cowards. At least we fight them. Sure we make mistakes, we screw up, and we lose people. But we save people too. Take the fight to them. Never back down. So yeah, we are better, we are...oh shit." John found himself standing, waving his beer bottle around. Realized he had fallen like all the rest to Moira's subtle manipulations. He scowled, sat. Met her gaze. "How the hell did you do that?" he muttered.
"Here, here!" Evan agreed. "We kick Wraith butt!" The men cheered, clanking bottles. Laughing jovially. Relaxed. Relieved.
"I think I'll get something to eat," she said. Smiled at John and moved to the table.