Five and a half hours later the last wormhole to Earth was opened. Most Atlantis personnel had left without incident, but a few SF's had to be physically subdued. The last group of those not willing to stay walked through the gate, leaving Sheppard, Teyla, Ronon, and Rodney standing in front of the portal back to Earth.
"I'm sorry," McKay said for the fiftieth time.
"I understand, Rodney," Sheppard said, placing a hand on his shoulder. "You've gotta do what you've gotta do."
"It's not that I don't want to stay, but I can't live with the thought of never seeing Jennifer or my sister again. But then again I don't want to abandon you guys either…despite the fact that you have zero chance of pulling this off, and with me staying you'd at least have a small chance of staying alive…"
"Rodney," Sheppard interrupted. "It's ok. Go."
McKay wanted to say something more, but couldn't find the words. He stepped forward and hugged Sheppard, who returned the gesture without hesitation or complaint.
Teyla came forward, hugged him, and even gave him a peck on the cheek. "Goodbye Rodney."
Ronon starred down McKay when he approached him with intent to hug, then softened and dragged Mckay over, lifting him up off the ground in a giant bear-hug. "Take care."
McKay looked back at all of them, trying to find the right words. "Good luck," he said simply, stepping slowly, reluctantly through the gate.
Sheppard swiped a tear from his eye and walked back up to the control platform. He pressed one of the comm buttons. "You're a go, Stevenson."
Across the city, sitting in the Ancient control chair, Stevenson heard Sheppard's voice and leaned back, closing his eyes in concentration.
The city rumbled through the pre-flight activation of the stardrive. Sheppard, Teyla, and Ronon waited in the gateroom and watched the city lift off from the ocean effortlessly, thanks to the three ZPM's now powering its engines. The handful of other personnel that had decided to stay watched the liftoff from various points around the city, wondering silently if they'd made the right choice.
The city continued up into orbit, passing the helpless Daedalus by and entered hyperspace without incident.
"Helm," Caldwell called out on the Daedalus's bridge, "track them and lay in a pursuit course."
"Sir," the helmsman answered, "Atlantis will be out of sensor range in three minutes. They're traveling far faster than the Daedalus's engines are capable of."
"What?" Caldwell asked. "How is that possible?"
"I haven't a clue, sir. But there's no way we can follow them at these speeds."
"Plot their current trajectory at least," Caldwell insisted.
The other bridge officer consulted his control screen. "At present they're heading leads them to…intergalactic space."
"Back to Earth?" Caldwell guessed.
"No, sir. Above Pegasus's galactic plane…into the middle of nowhere."
Caldwell rubbed his chin for a moment. "Helm, set course back to Earth. We need to consult with stargate command before we proceed any further."
Atlantis sat in intergalactic space overlooking the Pegasus galaxy, its precious atmosphere safely contained within the city's shield. Sheppard, Teyla, and Ronon gathered in the mess hall, discussing the implications of what they had just done, much as everyone else on Atlantis was doing at the moment…all save one.
Stevenson was still on the move, and had been ever since he'd left the chair room. Currently he was in the holo-room going through the updates to the Ancient database that had occurred since the construction of the Repository of Knowledge. He knew far more about the Ancients than any living person, but the Pegasus Ancients were a complete mystery to him…hence he had a lot of catching up to do before he started to tackle the challenges ahead of him.
"Are you in pain?" a voice from behind him spoke in Ancient.
"Yes, but I'm managing," Stevenson said, turning around to face the ascended Ancient.
"I apologize for the discomfort that you must endure, but I could find no other way. Your body is in a constant state of flux, and will remain so for quite some time…until your advancement reaches a level where you can defend yourself from ascended beings. Once you reach that point you will have a choice: let the changes plateau or push on further."
"And if I continue on?" Stevenson asked.
The image of the Ancient man shrugged. "We don't know. No one has ever been allowed to develop that far."
"Tell me about the others. You must have learned more over the past few million years?"
The Ancient's expression tightened. "Yes...they're not all ascended beings, as we first believed. The core of the Ascended Empire is made up of a nameless race of energy-based lifeforms. They are the ones who have forced the assimilation of ascended beings into the Empire, and they are the origin of the non-interference and limited development edicts. They have a distaste for corporeals and, I think, they also don't want us interacting with our previous species."
Stevenson raised an eyebrow. "How many other species are we talking about?"
"Hundreds, if not thousands. Humans are one of the newer additions to the group. We're discouraged from information gathering, I think the Originals, that's what we refer to them as, like to keep us in the dark as much as possible. We have surmised that the Empire's domain extends through several hundred galaxies but, ironic enough, seems to end somewhere between Avalona and Destra."
"Really," Stevenson remarked, "the Ori weren't part of the Empire?"
"Oddly enough no, though they were closely monitored to determine if they would ever become a threat to the Empire. They knew that if they ventured into the Originals' domain they had to operate under their rules, but as long as they stayed outside of their territory and posed no threat to them, they were essentially free to do as they pleased."
"Interesting. Why didn't you and the others leave their domain?"
The Ancient sighed. "Once part of the Empire, forever are you bound to it. A few of us tried to leave and were tracked down by the others. Some returned...those who didn't were killed."
"Are you in danger talking to me?"
He shook his head. "The Universe is a big place, the Originals and their followers can't watch over everything. Some of the Alterra have, regrettably, assimilated into the Empire and assist them in watching us. I've been given a short window of time to meet with you while a few loyal Alterra distract them. It is doubtful I'll be able to consult with you again without drawing you unwanted attention."
Stevenson nodded. "I understand. What else do I need to know?"
"My name is Lyran. I'm the one who developed and added the secondary programming to the Repositories…with the help of a few non-ascended Alterra before they finally died of the plague. I wasn't allowed to help them ascend and was forced to watch them die helplessly. To make matters worse, I've also discovered that it was the Originals who created the plague. They deemed us too dangerous and decreed that we could not be allowed to advance any further. They are also the ones responsible for killing the Asgard by tampering with their DNA and causing their gradual deterioration…as well as their inability to ascend."
Stevenson's hands balled into fists. Blood dripped from where his fingernails were cutting into his skin. While he might not have been blood kin to the Ancients, the changes the Repository had made to his body and mind had essential turned him into one of them…and he found himself taking the news of their murder personally.
"Now you understand how far they will go to insure that no corporeal species will ever threaten them. They also have to limit the number of new ascensions for fear of us one day outnumbering them. They tolerated the few of us that ascended, but made sure that no Asgard would, given our former alliance. The Originals and their Empire are not to be trifled with. You must be very careful, and very patient. Once you show your hand we won't get a second chance at this."
Stevenson nodded slowly. "I plan to stay here and deal with the Wraith while I develop. What of the Furlings?"
Lyran shook his head. "I would not involve them so soon. They are still in Ryss and Nextor, and have yet to attract the attention of the Empire. Do not involve them until you are in a position to protect them."
"I'll keep that in mind. At least they're still alive."
"Alive, but at risk. They are currently involved in a war of their own against an enemy far more powerful than the Wraith. Don't get involved in their fight until you're ready."
"What can you tell me of the Wraith? How did they defeat the Lanteans?"
Lyran glared with contempt. "The Lantean civilization was too focused on developing to the point of ascension. They lost the war out of pure stupidity. If you use the technology available to you wisely, you should have no trouble defeating them," Lyran said, glancing over his shoulder. "I must go. Good luck, brother."
Lyran faded from view, leaving Stevenson alone in the holo-room. He wiped his bloody palms off on his pants, revealing smooth skin beneath…his cuts had already healed.
He took a moment to gather his thoughts and get his emotions back in check, then he returned to his search through the database. He couldn't afford any missteps with the Wraith out of ignorance. It could jeopardize everything.