14 Days Ago…

The Pentagon

E-Ring

Classified Sub-Level B

Conference Room

About ten minutes later, NID Agent Bates walked in. He looked much the same as the last time she saw him. A youngish man in his mid to late thirties, Bates had short dark hair, just beginning to gray at the temples. He had the serious, unreadable look of all federal agents. Nancy knew he was former military, but he was a little too serious for Air Force or Navy, so he was possibly Army or, more likely, Marines.

Bates nodded at Nancy, placed a briefcase on the table, and proceeded to give her a well-rehearsed spiel about the National Secrets Act.

"Do you understand or do you have any questions regarding anything we've covered so far?" he asked, his expression bland.

Nancy shook her head. "I had to sign an NDA when I took my position as Director."

Bates nodded. "Before we continue, I need you to read this, initial the pertinent sections, and then sign." As he spoke, Bates passed a thick, sealed packet, stamped Ultra-Top Secret, Non-Disclosure Act of 2005.

Nancy's eyes widened at the words "Ultra-Top Secret." An NDA document for information that was higher than Top Secret? She had heard of Cosmic Top Secret, but that was a NATO designation. Up until now the highest security clearance she'd been authorized was Secret-Compartmented Information—i.e., need to know only.

Whatever was going on, it was definitely big.

Nancy stared at the document—almost three times thicker than any previous NDA document she'd signed—and glared at the agent. This was going to take forever, she thought, dismayed.

Bates responded with a wordless "what can say?" look—which gave him an almost boyish appearance. It was quickly replaced with the neutral expression of before.

Nancy sighed, and without comment, broke the security seal and started reading, quickly scanning those areas with which she was already familiar, closely reading those that were new, and neatly initialing each section as she finished.

Forty-five minutes later, she signed and dated the document, acknowledging her understanding that the US government could put her away for life without due process should she violate the terms of the NDA. Agent Bates countersigned as a witness. He tore out a one-page executive summary that highlighted the important points—especially the part about prison—and handed it to her.

"Before we continue, Director Stephens, I need to ask you once more, do you have any questions?"

Nancy shook her head no.

"In that case, m'am…please, follow me."

Agent Bates led her to an ordinary door, situated by itself at the end of a long corridor. The door, similar to the hundreds others in The Pentagon, read ERB-312—Echo-Romeo-Bravo-Three-One-Two. E-Ring, Sub-Level B, Room 312. The emergency rendezvous point that the automated voice had directed her to.

Bates quickly punched in the necessary code onto the ubiquitous keypad lock. Nancy heard a ~click~ indicating the magnetic lock had disengaged. Bates pushed the door open and Nancy followed him in.

Nancy looked around to get her bearings. The room was really a small auditorium more than half-filled. She saw uniforms from all the different services, as well as, a few allied countries. Intermixed among the uniforms, she saw several civilian suits. Nancy even recognized a few of the civilians—Homeland Security, FBI, NSA, DIA—with whom she had worked. There were many more she did not know.

The small auditorium was divided into two sections with an aisle running down the middle. Each section had twenty-four seats, four by six deep. The auditorium was at a slope with the rear area, where she was standing, being the highest point. A podium with microphone was situated beyond the front row. Large screens were set up at regular intervals around the auditorium.

A two-star Air Force general with close-cropped, graying hair made his way to the podium.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, please take your seats." He looked around, nodding at a few faces he recognized, giving the overall impression of someone completely at ease. "For those of you who don't know me—my name's Jack O'Neill."

Nancy sat up straighter. She recognized the name from last year's cease and desist order. Curious, she studied the older, but still attractive, highly decorated Air Force general. Nancy noted the dozens of ribbons on his chest, recognizing a few—the ones she remembered on John's own uniform.

Her eyes lit in private amusement, recalling how she used to create her own reasons for the ribbons she didn't recognize.

During formal dinners if a guest speaker—usually a two-star general or higher from Air Force Special Operations Command—tended to drone on and on, about "Mission Readiness" or "Air/Land Warfare" or the always exciting, "Future Air Power," Nancy would lean over to John and surreptitiously point at a particular ribbon on the speaker's uniform and ask what it was...

"Meritorious Service Medal." John murmured in her ear.

"Really? For what, I wonder…straightest flight line?" John gave her his best warning glare, but the twinkle in his eyes let her know he was enjoying her little game.

"What about that one?"

John sighed. "Legion of Merit."

"I wonder…?"

"Probably earned it for having a dutifully obedient Air Force wife," John whispered.

"Think so?" Nancy replied thoughtfully. Then, "Nah…I don't…"

John then lightly tapped her toe with his foot...

Nancy smiled, wondering how many more ribbons John had earned since. She was brought back from her musings when the general began speaking.

"Thank you all for coming. As you know the current Threat Level is DEFCON 2. This means that we are at a force readiness level just shy of imminent attack. To put it in perspective, the last time we were publicly at DEFCON 2 was during the Cuban Missile Crisis."

A few murmurs arose at his use of the word "publicly." He waited patiently until the audience quieted down, and then continued. "In the past ten years, we have reached this threat level more than once…And at least once, we exceeded it." O'Neill waited for the murmurs to die out again. "While all of these previous threats were deadly serious, the threat we face today is—if possible—even more so."

O'Neill nodded at someone seated on the front row. Nancy craned her neck to see over the heads of those seated in front of her. She saw an attractive blonde in the uniform of an Air Force colonel stand and walk toward O'Neill. The general turned back to the audience. "And now…I'm going to place you in the very capable hands of Colonel Doctor Samantha Carter, Ph.D." He gestured vaguely and shrugged. "Some kind of science-y field…"

Carter gave him a wide, tolerant grin. "Thank you, sir. Ladies and gentlemen, you were all required to sign Non-Disclosure statements before you were allowed in here. I'm about to reveal why…and in so doing, bring you in on the world's greatest and best kept secret of the past ten years. Please, turn your attention to the screens located around the auditorium…"

An hour later, Nancy didn't know what to think. She was stunned. Aliens? Could this even be true? She looked around, seeing her doubts reflected in the faces of the other audience members.

An overweight, balding man with a florid face sitting three rows over stood up. "This is some kind of joke, right? I mean…aliens? Stargates? Wormhole travel? Who are you people kidding?"

"With all due respect, Colonel Carter," a Navy captain interrupted. "But do you really expect us to believe all this? I mean…This is like that TV show from a few years ago—What was it called? Wormhole X-Treme or something equally stupid."

A British RAF officer spoke next. "I must agree with my American colleagues. Your entire presentation, Colonel Carter, is quite fantastic…more in the realm of science fiction."

"Yeah!" The first man jumped in again. "Snakes that live in your head and enslave you? Weird, religious fanatics that convert you only to burn you out? Tiny gray guys that resemble the Roswell UFO aliens? And let's not forget…a space battle fought over Antarctica? Give me a break!"

Instantly, O'Neill was at the podium again. "What's wrong with Wormhole X-Treme? I kinda liked it." His comments were met with a few ripples of laughter across the auditorium. "Especially, that hero guy…I don't know. He reminded me of someone." This elicited even louder laughs. Grinning, O'Neill raised his hand for quiet. "Look, I know it's a lot to take in, but we don't have time to debate it. Sam and I have been part of this since the beginning. We've fought the snakes and the Ori and the countless other bad guys that want to enslave not just us but the rest of the human populations in this galaxy. But…that's not why we're here today."

The room went deathly still at his words. Nancy thought that she could've heard the proverbial pin drop.

"No, the reason we're here today is much worse…and unfortunately, much, much scarier…Sam?"

Carter nodded and again stepped up to the microphone. "Ladies and gentlemen, I'd like to again call your attention to the screens around you…"

As the horrifying images played before her, Nancy's heart began speeding up until it was hammering at a dangerously accelerated rate.

The unspeakable acts being committed by the aliens identified as the Wraith, frightening monsters that were displayed on the screens before her, would probably plague Nancy's nightmares for years to come.

Apparently, the creatures were discovered when an expedition from Earth traveled to another galaxy. While intelligent and capable of space travel, the Wraith were not the friendly E.T.'s of Hollywood fantasy. Instead, they were closer to Bram Stoker's Dracula, and humans were their only food source. Worse…they were headed here—toward Earth!

Nancy's throat felt constricted, her temperature elevated, and an encroaching darkness began creeping around her peripheral vision. Nancy realized she was on the verge of a panic attack. She hadn't suffered from one since the first time she'd been informed that John's helicopter had gone down behind enemy lines….

She remembered the phone slipping from her numbed fingers as she started hyperventilating, unable to get enough air to breathe. Much to her embarrassment, she'd actually fainted. And, to add to her utter humiliation, John arranged that any further emergency notifications be handled in person...

Now, she tried slowing down her breathing to avoid hyperventilating, but the intrusive shadows started to overwhelm her.

Vaguely, Nancy heard Col. Carter in the background, still narrating the video of the Wraith feeding habits. Nancy tried concentrating on the images playing forth on-screen, when she suddenly focused on a lone figure tied to a chair. The man had a familiar head of dark, unruly hair and was wearing a black leather jacket.

"John…?" Nancy whispered. To her revulsion she saw one of those…things…approach him, while he struggled uselessly against his bonds. "Oh, my god…John…!" She watched, mesmerized, unable to look away as the Wraith slammed its feeding hand onto John's chest. Nauseated, she saw as John aged right before her eyes.

The blackness that she had managed to hold at bay finally overwhelmed her…

oOo

13.5 Days Ago…

F302 on Patrol

The Pegasus Galaxy

Sheppard made a radio check with the Daedalus and the other two F302s out on recon/patrol.

"Nothing to report, Leader," Lt. Michaels said. "Just a lot of empty space out there."

"Yeah…but we get to do this in an F302," Lt. Devries broke in. "I don't care if we do nothing but fly these counterclockwise, elliptical patterns all day and all night…I'm doing it in an F302—I mean, what's not to like?"

"Devries, I don't need to know anything about where you 'doing it.' That's way TMI, bro!"

"Okay, gentlemen," Sheppard broke in, smiling. "We're the Daedalus' eyes and ears. So…how about less clowning and more patrolling?"

"Yes, sir!" "Sorry, sir!" Came the simultaneous responses.

The F302s were flying in three separate elliptical orbits around the Daedalus. Sheppard had the overwatch position at 1200km—the farthest patrol orbit. He was the Daedalus' early warning buoy. If he picked up an enemy vessel on his sensors, he was to give the alert which would scramble the remaining fighters. Half the squadron would immediately reinforce Lt. Michaels and Lt. Devries' elliptical orbits, while the remaining half would strengthen the outer perimeter with him.

Sheppard's half of the squadron would fight a delaying action against any enemy bogies. When the time came, they would then fall back to Michaels and Devries' position—their last line of defense, or "Alamo" if you will. This was their do or die defensive position. Hopefully, it wouldn't come to that, but if it did, they were ready. And, as Lt. Devries said, they got to do it in F302s.

"What's not to like?" Sheppard repeated ironically.

The long patrol was punctuated with quiet radio checks and regular shift changes. Sheppard used his command prerogative as the senior pilot to stay out on patrol over several shift changes. However, he was growing tired and knew that he would have to changeover on the next rotation.

He checked the cockpit chronometer and saw that he had another twenty-five minutes on the current shift. As the time dragged, Sheppard's thoughts drifted back to his brother's wedding. He still found it difficult to get his mind around the fact that his brother had married another man.

"You think you know a guy…" he muttered. Still, he was happy for Dave. His brother had found the person with whom he wanted to spend the rest of his life. Paul loved Dave and made him happy. In the end, that's what mattered.

Sheppard believed once that he had found that with Nancy, but while she made him happy, he had only made her miserable. In the end, he agreed that the divorce had been the best thing for them. Six years later, he was almost ready to accept it as true.

Until he saw her in the red dress...

Sheppard recalled how stunning Nancy looked at the wedding. He didn't know much about women's styles and fashions, but he had eyes. He'd seen how the red dress Nancy was wearing at the wedding enhanced her figure and highlighted her coloring.

His palms felt moist as he approached her to escort her to the dance floor for the traditional Best Man/Best Girl dance. Paul had refused to have her designated his maid of honor. "I'm not playing the role of the bride in this affair. Nancy's gonna be my Best Girl." Of course, prior to the wedding, Dr. Lam had cleared Sheppard to dance as long as he didn't overexert himself in the process.

As Sheppard led Nancy to the center of the dance floor, the music started up slowly. The other guests, seated and scattered around the country club's main hall, faded into the background—becoming a faceless, nameless blur. John had eyes only for Nancy.

Once she was in his arms, the initial awkwardness eased off, and the more familiar feel of her curves and alluring fragrance of her scent brought him home.

It was as if his arms remembered how to hold her and where to place his hands as he twirled her expertly around the dance floor, their bodies in perfect sync. He was so mesmerized by her nearness that he didn't notice when the music ended, nor hear the soft amused twitters from the entertained onlookers as he and Nance kept on dancing, oblivious to everything and everyone around them except each other.

Eventually awareness returned, and they slowly came to a stop. They each took a step back, but then stood, chests heaving, eyes locked on one another's. Sheppard suddenly heard the applause surrounding them and not a few shouts urging him to kiss her. Nancy's mouth twitched in amusement. Abruptly, Sheppard felt the old awkwardness overtake him. He rubbed the back of his neck, avoiding her eyes.

"Sorry 'bout that," he mumbled, embarrassed. "I guess I got a little…um…carried away."

By then the music had started again, and other couples began to crowd their way onto the dance floor.

"That's okay." Nancy shrugged. "I guess we both did." She continued to stand there, as if waiting for something. Sheppard wasn't sure what he saw in her face, but he stepped closer to her, hemmed in by the other couples. As he looked in her eyes, he felt as if they were in a time dilation field—there, but separate from the rest of the world, as it moved on without them.

He took another step nearer until all that separated them were a few air molecules trapped in the small space between them. He took her in his arms again, and held her close, swaying slowly to the music.

"You're still my Best Girl, Nance," he whispered after a seeming eternity. It was apparently the wrong thing to say because she suddenly stiffened and broke away.

"I'm sorry…" he rasped. "I shouldn't have said that—"

"No…really, that's not it, John," Nancy denied, hurrying off the dance floor. She made her way to the head table and grabbed her purse. "I have an early start tomorrow. I-I've really gotta go."

"Riiight…" Sheppard said, nodding in understanding. He stood awkwardly, bowtie askew from where her head had rested on him as they danced. He balled his hands in his pockets, afraid that if he took them out, he'd grab hold of her and refuse to let go. "It was good seeing you…again."

Nancy nodded. "Yes, it was. I have to go, John." She looked up at him, and then on impulse, stood on her tiptoes and kissed him briefly on the lips. "Goodbye, John," she whispered fiercely. "Take care of yourself..."

Snapping himself back to the present, Sheppard berated himself for mooning over Nancy like a lovesick teenager. Even though Dave had emailed him a couple months ago, "casually" informing him that Nancy and Grant had divorced, John figured it was too late. No matter his own mixed up feelings for his ex-wife, he doubted Nancy returned them. Annoyed with himself, he radioed the Daedalus and demanded an updated from McKay.

"It's been twelve hours, Rodney…what's the status of the repairs?"

"Sheppard…would you just stop with the harassing calls? I'm not gonna go any faster with you constantly in my ear! I—oh, wait…" McKay sounded as if he'd just had a "eureka" moment. "We just got the hyper-drive and navigation back online…and the shields…"

"What about weapons?" Both Sheppard and Caldwell asked at the same time.

"Oh, that is so typical!" McKay complained. "Look-!"

"Never mind, Doctor," Caldwell interrupted. "Colonel Sheppard, return your flight back to base. We'll head on to Atlantis and complete repairs there."

"Copy that. Okay, kids…You heard the boss. Let's head back to base. We're going home."

oOo

13.5 Days Ago…

The Pentagon

E-Ring

Classified Sub-Level B

Conference Room

"How is she…?"

Nancy vaguely recognized Agent Bates's impatient tones.

"Just fainted…She'll be all right…" A woman's voice she didn't recognize.

"Shoulda prepared her…" Bates.

"Too late now…" Sardonic—unidentified woman again.

"Ex-wife you say…?" Colonel Carter's voice.

"Yeah…She came through for us with that Replicator problem last year—" Bates…admiring?

"She's coming around." The unidentified woman's voice sounded clearer now.

Nancy blinked her eyes open, only to close them immediately against the bright lights. "Ohhh….what happened?"

"You fainted, that's what…because some people need to have their thick heads examined!"

Nancy carefully opened her eyes again and focused on the woman seated above her. She looked at her in confusion. "I'm sorry…who-?"

The woman smiled, not unkindly. "I'm Doctor Lam…and you're fine, by the way." She glared up Bates who was staring somewhat contritely at Nancy. "No thanks to some people."

Bates opened his mouth to speak, but Carter beat him to it.

"Agent Bates, I have to agree with the doc here." Carter spoke somewhat severely. "You should've told me Colonel Sheppard's ex-wife was going to be in the audience. I would never have shown that video if I'd known."

"I said I was sorry," Bates objected.

"I…I'm all right," Nancy rasped.

Dr. Lam held out a glass of water for her. "Here...drink some."

Nancy gratefully took a small sip. When she was done, Dr. Lam took it from her and placed it on the conference table. That's when Nancy realized she was no longer in the auditorium. She was laid out on four of the soft, cushioned conference room chairs. She sat up suddenly.

"John—! Oh, my god…is he—? That thing fed on him!" She shuddered, fighting against a sudden onslaught of hot tears. "Please, tell me—is John dead?"

Carter was instantly sitting next to her. "Mrs. Sheppard…I mean, um…?"

"Stephens…It's 'Stephens' now."

"Of course, Ms. Stephens…John is all right. Or at least as all right as you can get in Pegasus. That video was from two years ago. The Wraith did feed on John, and John was aged. But—"

"—But Sheppard being Sheppard," Bates interrupted, with grudging admiration, "he apparently talked that Wraith into working with him, and they escaped together from their captors. Then…the Wraith un-did what he'd done to him. I think you saw Colonel Sheppard at his father's Wake last year, right?" At Nancy's hesitant nod, Bates shrugged. "Well, there you are."

Nodding, Nancy took a deep breath and straightened her shoulders. "And those…creatures…are on their way here..." She made it a statement rather than a question.

"Yes." Carter looked at Bates, who gave her a slight shoulder shrug. "We received word less than an hour ago that our last line of defense, our two remaining spaceships, the Apollo and the Sun Tzu, failed to stop the Super-Hive in the Pegasus Galaxy. Both ships took heavy damage and will be out of commission for at least a month. The Daedalus was damaged in an earlier battle."

"So…there's nothing between those…things…and Earth?" Nancy asked.

Bates shook his head. "The President, Vice President, and Cabinet will be evaced to secure locations, as will the Supreme Court Justices, and leaders of the House and Senate. All security agencies are at DEFCON 2, gearing for imminent attack as well as invasion. Police, fire and rescue, and national guard units have been put on full alert, as have all military installations."

"How long?" Nancy asked.

Carter sighed. "We're estimating a few weeks, but we don't actually know. This Super-Hive is different from the others. Its power source makes it nearly invincible. General O'Neill has ordered me to Cheyenne Mountain to take command."

Nancy nodded. "Well…I wanted to know what John had gotten himself into, and I guess now I know." She smiled ruefully. "Still kicking butt and saving the day, I see." She stood carefully, making sure her legs would support her weight first. When she was certain she wouldn't humiliate herself again, she shook hands with Carter, Lam, and Bates. "Thank you. I appreciate everything you did and what you told me."

"We were glad to help," Carter said smiling.

"Well…I've kept you from your duties long enough," Nancy said. "I'd better get to work myself. I'm supposed to report to the TOC for the Duration." Nancy thought of the Tactical Operations Center located two levels down, where she had acted as liaison between the local civil authorities and the federal government agencies during the DEFCON 2 training exercise just a few months ago. It looked like the worst case scenario exercise would come in handy.

"Ms. Stephens," Carter placed a hand on Nancy's arm. "Everything that can be done is being done. If the Wraith get here and we can't stop them with the weapons chair, we'll be practically defenseless. Look…why don't you come with us to Cheyenne Mountain? I know that John would be greatly relieved to know that you're safe."

Nancy looked at her gratefully, but shook her head. "Thank you, Colonel…but I can't. I have my duties here. Agents who depend on me—their families. I can't just abandon them."

Carter smiled. "I can see what John saw in you…" She looked away, suddenly embarrassed. "I mean, other than the obvious." She made a vague gesture that took in Nancy's appearance.

Nancy shook her head. "Truthfully…? I don't have a clue what John saw in me while we were married, but—" She paused, a thoughtful expression on her beautiful features. "I'm beginning to realize what I saw in him." She smiled at Carter. "I have to make sure my people are at DEFCON 2…and I have to look to my other responsibilities."

"And we have to do the same," Carter said, indicating herself, Dr. Lam, and Agent Bates.

"Thank you…all of you." Nancy looked seriously at Carter, suddenly needing to ask her for something she had no right to ask. "Colonel Carter, if you see John…could you give him a message for me?"

"Of course."

"Please, would you tell him to take care of himself?"

oOo