Again, sorry for the wait. After the wedding and the exhibit, I got sick. That knocked me for a loop all last week. Then I had to do a bit of traveling. I'm posting this from California! There's so much to do! I've never been to the West Coast before. I'm a New Englander. Thank you for your patience. I hope the wait was worth it.
Disclaimer: I still don't own Stargate Atlantis, Steve, and/or any other SGA character. This story is for entertainment purposes only, and is strictly not-for-profit. The only things I own are: Dr. Mira Sheckle, The Glove, the plot, and other OC/plot-related bits.
Chapter Five: Accessorial Dilemma - Part Two
3 years, 49 weeks earlier
Above the Gateroom, Dr. Weir stepped past the DHD console and clasped her hands behind her back as she looked down at the activity taking place before the Stargate. marines jogged back and forth, carrying out their appointed tasks with orderly efficiency as their comrades emerged from the rippling surface of the wormhole. A cluster of heavily armed soldiers surrounding a pair carrying a stretcher trotted through, followed by a single, dark-skinned officer dripping with wraith stunners.
Handing off the pilfered weapons to a subordinate, the officer raised his black, serious eyes to the balcony. He nodded to Elizabeth, calling, "That's everyone."
Dr. Weir turned to the technician manning the DHD. "Shut it down."
As the shimmering wormhole collapsed in on itself with an air crackling shhmmp, Peter Grodin left his station and moved to stand beside her. He looked at the forest of stunners pointing at the swaying stretcher with interest. "It would appear Sergeant Bates's mission was successful."
"Indeed it does," murmured Elizabeth.
Peter glanced at her. "You do not sound pleased."
Dr. Weir sighed, letting her face and tone hint at the trepidation and reservations she wrestled with. "Nothing about this situation pleases me."
Frowning slightly, he looked back to the Stargate. The stretcher was slowly being carried out of the room. "Yet you persist upon the chosen path."
"Because it is the best option."
Peter raised an eyebrow. "But that does not make it the right one?"
Elizabeth smiled slightly, "Not necessarily, no."
"I see."
Grasping the railing, Dr. Weir leaned out over the Gateroom floor. "Sergeant," she called, "Secure our new guest. Then report to the debriefing room. I'll be waiting."
The dark-skinned officer paused in his directing of marines long enough to give her a curt nod. "Yes, Ma'am. I'll be there in fifteen. This won't take long." Snapping a few last orders, Bates turned on his heel and followed the stretcher.
Elizabeth watched as the procession disappeared from view. Then she tapped her radio. "Major Sheppard, this Dr. Weir."
The radio crackled. "Go ahead."
"Sergeant Bates is back. Debriefing in fifteen minutes."
"Any casualties?" Sheppard asked.
"Not that I'm aware of," Elizabeth said. "He's securing the guest."
The Major was silent a moment. Dr. Weir heard the murmur of voices in the background. Then… "I'm on my way. Sheppard out."
Leaving Peter Grodin in charge of the Gateroom, Dr. Weir turned away from the railing and headed for her office, intending to prepare for the debriefing.
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Fifteen minutes later, Dr. Weir and Major Sheppard looked up as Sergeant Bates entered the debriefing room. Smiling pleasantly, Atlantis's Head of Security acknowledged his superiors. "Dr. Weir, Major Sheppard."
Elizabeth smiled back. "Have a seat, Sergeant."
The rotating wall panel they'd left open for a door swiveled shut as Bates came around the circular table and took the chair on Sheppard's left. As he sat, the Major raised an eyebrow. "How's our new guest settling in?"
Bates leaned his elbows on the ancient conference table. "Not awake yet, Sir."
"Too bad." Sheppard shrugged, "I bet he's a stimulating conversationalist."
"Somehow I doubt that."
On Sheppard's right, Dr. Weir clasped her hands together and turned her chair slightly to better face the two officers. "Shall we get this started?"
Crossing his legs, Major Sheppard sat back and looked at Bates. "Yes, let's. Report, soldier."
Bates nodded and got down to business. "The mission went like clockwork—"
"Clockwork? I wish my missions would go like clockwork."
"Technically you did help plan this one, Sir."
The Major conceded the point with a grin, and Sergeant Bates continued, stating the events of ninety minutes earlier in a succinct, matter-of-fact tone. "After Major Sheppard gave the go ahead, I took my team through the Stargate, to the planet where we caught the prisoner. We set up an ambush in the ruins near the gate, same as before. Then, when the area was secure, Lieutenant Ford brought through the transmitter."
Dr. Weir interrupted, "You're referring to Teyla's necklace?"
Bates nodded, "Yes, Ma'am. The same necklace that gave away SGA-1's position a couple months ago. The one we used to lure our first prisoner."
"He has a name, you know," Sheppard quipped, "It's Steve."
Sergeant Bates shot the Major a dark look. "With all due respect, Sir. The prisoner is the prisoner. He hasn't given us a name yet."
"A minor detail."
Elizabeth ignored the digression. "Dr. McKay had no problems reactivating it?"
The Sergeant returned his attention to Dr. Weir. "No, Ma'am. He had it up and running in twenty minutes. He's deactivating it as we speak."
Chuckling, Major Sheppard also turned to her. "You should've been there, Elizabeth. When I first radioed the requests in? I don't think I've ever seen Rodney so happy about being repeatedly interrupted. He couldn't get up to his lab fast enough."
Elizabeth Weir raised an amused eyebrow. "Getting tired of trawling through sludge, is he?"
"I think, 'bacteria infested cesspools,' was the term he used," Sheppard corrected.
Sergeant Bates frowned at his superiors in annoyance. "As I was saying, Lieutenant Ford brought the reactivated transmitter through the Stargate. We dropped it in the grass and watched from undercover. We waited seventeen minutes. Then wraith approached the transmitter. There were eight. Two officers. Six masked grunts."
Major Sheppard frowned. "Twice as many as last time."
"I'm not sure I like that trend," Elizabeth added. She eyed Sheppard uneasily. "If we ever try this again, we'll need to take extra precautions."
"I already have several recommendations on that front," Bates said. "They'll be in the conclusion of my report."
Elizabeth nodded in approval, "Okay. So, the wraith arrived…?"
Sergeant Bates continued his report, addressing both Weir and Sheppard. "When they reached the transmitter, we sprung the trap. We targeted the officers first. They went down hard and fast, three stun blasts each."
Sheppard winced, "Unconscious before they hit the ground…"
"Unconscious before they could self-destruct," Bates clarified. "Taking out the officers sent the other wraith into temporary chaos. In the resulting confusion, we managed to drop two using the same concentrated targeting method. Then they regrouped. Started to return fire. We didn't have enough stunners to knock them all down quickly—"
"A matter which you've rectified nicely, I might add," Major Sheppard interjected. He glanced at Weir. "He just doubled our stunner inventory."
"More than doubled." Sergeant Bates smirked. "Two pistols and eight blasters."
"Impressive," murmured Elizabeth. "Please continue, Sergeant."
"Yes, Ma'am. Three of the masked wraith managed to blow themselves up before we completely immobilized them. The fourth we dropped after a short firefight. We posted guards on each wraith, in case they woke up, stripped them of weapons, and chose a grunt at random. That grunt we stripped of his armor, as a precaution."
"To prevent him from blowing up?" Dr. Weir asked.
Bates nodded, "And to save time and resources later."
"See," Sheppard said, "The less equipment goes into the cell, the fewer times we have to stun him to get it all out."
"Is that really a problem?" Elizabeth frowned.
Sheppard shrugged, "Not really, no—"
"But it can take up to four shots to knock a grunt out," Bates added.
"And the stunners are damn useful," Sheppard continued. "We don't know how long they'll remain energized."
Elizabeth nodded, "I see. Conserving ammunition."
"Yes, Ma'am." Sergeant Bates returned to his report. "After the wraith was stripped, we brought out the stretcher we'd stashed in the woods. We switched the dead grunt Dr. Becket donated from Atlantis's morgue for the stunned one. Then we fitted the corpse with a modified self-destruct chest plate—"
"Modified?" Dr. Weir interrupted.
"Rodney wired it for remote detonation," Sheppard whispered.
"Lieutenant Ford gave each unconscious wraith a stun to the head, so they wouldn't wake up. Then we cleared the area and detonated the corpse. We removed all traces of our presence, and brought our prisoner back through the Stargate."
Elizabeth stared at her entwined fingers thoughtfully. "You left the four stunned wraith behind. Alive…"
Sergeant Bates nodded. "With any luck, the corpse will make them think the fourth grunt self-destructed. They'll never know he's missing."
"But you left witnesses," Dr. Weir pressed. "That's a dangerous risk."
"One we agreed beforehand was worth taking," Sheppard reminded her.
"I realize that."
"Look. We want these wraith confused as Hell, but curious." Sheppard grinned nonchalantly. "Leaving them alive is the best way to accomplish that."
"He's right, Ma'am," Bates agreed. "If we need to bag another wraith in the future, we want them to come willingly in small quantities. If they think the danger's too great, they'll swarm in overpowering force, or ignore the transmitter completely."
"Neither of which would be helpful…" Still staring at her hands, Elizabeth sighed. "Did they see you? Can the attack, in any way, be traced to Atlantis?"
"No," Sergeant Bates glanced at Major Sheppard. "We took precautions to prevent that. For starters, the officers were taken down before they could see us."
"What about the masked wraith?"
"Camouflage," Sheppard interjected. He smiled cheekily. "Marines are good at playing dress up."
"We used clothes obtained from off-world trading markets," Bates confirmed. "We hid P-90s and distinctive Earth weapons in the underbrush, in case things went bad, but we never used them. Other than stunners, the only weapons the grunts saw were a handful of bows borrowed from the Athosians."
"We don't know exactly how masked wraith communicate," Sheppard added, "seeing as they never talk. But Dr. Beckett suspects they transfer images telepathically. What the officers will see in their memories is a bunch of primitives with scavenged stunners. With any luck, they'll think the self-destruct explosions scared us off."
Dr. Weir frowned. "What about the transmitter? It's still emitting the same signal. Wraith aren't stupid, Major. They'll make the connection."
"A valid point," Sheppard conceded. "Given the scenario we constructed, we're hoping they'll assume we ditched the necklace to hide our tracks. Or traded it, advertising it as wraith bait."
"We've tried to make that the only reasonable conclusion they can draw," Sergeant Bates added.
Still frowning, Elizabeth shook her head. "Assumptions. That's what I'm hearing, gentlemen. Assumptions relying on assumptions. This isn't inspiring confidence."
"Yeah, well…" Sheppard shrugged and exchanged a look with Bates, "Ultimately it doesn't matter if the wraith buy it."
Sergeant Bates nodded. "He's right, Ma'am. If the wraith reject what they saw, or see through the ruse, it'll just confuse them as to our purpose."
"Increasing their curiosity…" Dr. Weir murmured.
Major Sheppard bounced his crossed legs. "It actually might be better if they do see through us. It'll definitely perplex them."
"Especially since we didn't kill or abduct the officers…" Elizabeth raised an eyebrow. "What if—"
Just then, all the radios in the room simultaneously crackled to life.
"Unscheduled off-world activation," Peter Grodin announced.
As one, Dr. Weir, Major Sheppard, and Sergeant Bates looked towards the Gateroom. There was only one team off-world at the moment.
"Reading Dr. Beckett's IDC."
Dr. Weir tapped her radio. "Let him through, Peter." She glanced at the two officers questioningly. "I think this debriefing was just about over?"
Bates nodded. "Any details overlooked will be in my report."
"Good." Getting up, Elizabeth headed for the Gateroom. Major Sheppard and Sergeant Bates followed her around the conference table, and the rotating wall panels enclosing the debriefing room swiveled on their pivots, opening to let them out.
When they reached the balcony, Atlantis's Head of Security peeled off. "I'll be in the holding cells," Bates said, "observing the new prisoner."
Sheppard watched him leave, calling, "Say, 'Hi,' to Steve for me."
"With all due respect? Not on your life, Sir."
The Major shrugged, "Oh well. I was going to visit later anyway…"
"Dr. Weir?" Looking up from his console, Peter Grodin faced the Stargate. "Dr. Beckett's coming through the wormhole now."
Hooking a curl of brown hair behind her ear, Elizabeth braced her hands on the railing and watched with interest as the white-coated form of Dr. Beckett skipped out of the rippling blue circle. Major Sheppard rested his elbows on the balustrade next to her and leaned forward, scrutinizing the bouncing, white-coated scientist with amusement.
"Now, that's something you don't see every day," he observed.
Even from two stories up, the Scotsman's excitement was obvious. As they looked on, Carson turned a three-sixty, lab coat flapping, and scoured the Gateroom's many doors and windows and crannies, calling eagerly, "Elizabeth?"
Dr. Weir waved. "Over here, Carson."
Catching sight of her, the doctor laughed and waved back. "An' Major Sheppard too! Perfect!" He jogged to the sweeping stairway that provided access to the control room and started running up it. Sheppard and Weir moved to intercept.
"Ah can tell ye both at one time!"
Atlantis's commanders met the doctor halfway down, on the landing.
"Tell us what, Carson?" Elizabeth asked.
"Yeah, what's the rush," Sheppard quipped. "You discover off-world haggis?"
Dr. Becket frowned good-naturedly. "Do ye have any idea how offensive 'at particular stereotype is? Haggis jokes are a bit outdated."
Sheppard shrugged, "I thought I updated it nicely."
"Well, it did'nae work, now did it?"
"Carson?" Elizabeth raised an eyebrow, reminding the pair of her presence. "I was under the impression you had something pressing to tell us?"
Carson quickly brightened again. "Aye, ah did. Ah do." Shoving his hands in his pockets, he happily bounced on the balls of his feet. "Ah've got great news!"
Dr. Weir quirked a smile expectantly.
Still bouncing, Carson smiled back.
"Well… Spit it out!" Sheppard urged.
Dr. Beckett's mouth opened in a little 'oh.' "Right! Sorry!" He stopped bouncing and tried to look serious. He succeeded for two beats, then ruined the stoic expression by breaking into an eager grin. "We did it!" Carson blurted.
"Did what?!" mimicked Sheppard.
"We perfected the delivery system! 100% cellular penetration, and 100% reproducible results! Our synthetic protein is ready for the next stage of testing."
Sheppard frowned. "You're referring to the Hoffans' drug?"
Carson nodded, "What else?" He looked at Dr. Weir. "Perna's presenting our results to the Hoffan government as we speak!"
"And what IS the next stage of testing?" Elizabeth asked.
Dr. Beckett's eyes darted excitedly to the ceiling, "Oh, ah would guess… Larger tissue samples, varying dosage rates… Live animal tests followed by dissection for tracking the drug's uptake levels in various organs… And, o' course, observation and testing of animals and tissues for various side effects… Then after tha', ah'll have to design a safe, an' feasible, way to conduct human tria—"
"Okay," Elizabeth laughed, "I get the picture."
"It's a great success, this, but there's still a lot o' work to do—"
"They why exactly did you come back here?" Sheppard interrupted. Elizabeth glanced at him. "Not that I'm complaining, of course," he added.
"Right!" Carson looked imploringly at Dr. Weir. "Ah'd like permission to take additional equipment through the Gate. An' to increase my personnel a wee bit."
Elizabeth nodded. "How much, and how many?"
"Well, ah was thinking about a few—"
Major Sheppard's radio crackled. "Sergeant Bates to Major Sheppard."
"Go ahead, Sergeant."
"Sir, the new prisoner is awake."
"New prisoner?" Carson whispered. "Wha' new prisoner?"
"I think you should come down here, Sir," Bates continued.
Sheppard frowned. "Is there a problem, Sergeant?"
Sergeant Bates was silent for a moment. In the ensuing quiet, an odd, erratic buzzing could be heard in the background. Then… "Let's just say, this holding cell's doing a decent impression of a giant bug zapper, Sir."
Major Sheppard cursed. "I'll be right down. Sheppard out." He glanced regretfully at Dr. Weir. "I'll be going now. You know, check this out."
Dr. Weir nodded understandingly. "Please do. Let me know how it turns out."
Sheppard turned to go. As he did, Dr. Beckett loosely grabbed his arm. "Wait a moment, Major. Wha' new prisoner?"
Smiling enigmatically, Major Sheppard clapped Carson on the shoulder. "Congratulations, Doc! Not only did you succeed on your tests. You get to try your drug on a new set of giant bug samples. Giant, UGLY, bug samples."
Carson suddenly looked horrified. "Ye did'nae catch another wraith?"
Sheppard started jogging down the stairs, calling, "You'll find out soon enough."
"But Major! We only 'ave tha' one glove!"
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"There's another of my kind here…"
Steve's eyes bored into Sheppard's as the Major approached the cell slowly, almost warily. "Yeah, there is. I take it you can sense that?"
A low hiss and a slight tilt of the head. "Of course…"
Sheppard watched Steve's behavior carefully. The wraith stood in the exact center of the square cage, spine ramrod straight, entire body bathed in the brightest light. He made no move to close the distance between them. Sheppard felt a twinge of unease. This was new. There'd been no posturing. No feigned ignorance of his presence. The wraith had been staring at Sheppard while he was still descending the stairs to the alcove.
It was a little unnerving… Dare he even say… creepy?
Naahhh… Deliberately avoiding looking at Lieutenant Ford, who was standing behind him with a pistol-shaped stunner, Sheppard raised an eyebrow at Steve. "I don't suppose you can communicate with him, too?"
The wraith didn't so much as twitch. "Again… Of course…"
The Major crossed his arms and adopted a mocking, military posture. "In that case, could you ask him to stop, you know… Throwing himself at the force field?"
Steve blinked slowly. "Why have you brought him here?"
Sheppard cocked his head. "That's for me to know, and you never to know."
White hair rustled softly across the black coat as Steve mirrored the tilt of his captor's face. "His fate concerns me."
"Obviously."
"His mind cries out for guidance."
"Cause he sensed you back, I assume."
The wraith hissed sharply. "His agitation is distasteful."
Sheppard paused, intrigued. He hadn't expected Steve's interest in the masked wraith to go beyond knowing what Atlantis wanted it for. Apparently he'd misjudged this slightly. "Then why not tell him to calm down?"
Straightening, Steve let out a short chuff of air. "How will you sustain him?"
"Ohhh… I don't know. Let's see…" Sheppard glanced at the ceiling for a moment. He shook his head. "That's not any of your business, now, is it?"
The wraith's lips twitched in a disdainful, yet fleeting, sneer. "Do you intend for me to share?" The green eyes flicked briefly to his feeding hand.
Amused, Sheppard wandered his gaze down Steve's arm and across the sleek fabric encasing the deadly feeding slit. "What? Share the glove?" He shrugged and looked up again. "Who knows? Like I said. Not your business."
Steve hissed, a low venting of obvious frustration. His body went eerily motionless. "If I am to be subjected to his hunger, it becomes my business."
Intrigued once more, Sheppard filed that comment away for future study. "Well, then. We'll cross that bridge IF we come to it, won't we?"
Icy silence met the Major's words.
Realizing they were on the verge of a stubbornly drawn out, 'die before you blink,' totally unproductive staring contest, Sheppard sighed in annoyance and moved closer to the cell. "Look, Steve…" The wraith glared stonily at him. "Both I know, and you know, that you've got very low security clearance on Atlantis. Comes with the whole 'being a prisoner' thing." Neither the prisoner's expression, nor his posture changed, but the stony glare boring into Sheppard's face was suddenly, and definitely, a hateful, frosty glare of death. The Major raised an eyebrow warningly. "What I CAN tell you is this: He's probably not going to be on Atlantis long enough to get hungry."
"What IS he going to be on Atlantis long enough for!?" Steve snarled.
Letting a perplexed note of disbelief enter his voice, Major Sheppard stepped up to the cage and gripped the horizontal bars. "Long enough to drive you crazy with curiosity, it seems." When Steve snarled again, Sheppard looked away and made a show of peering at the spaces between the bars. "What part of NO isn't getting through this force field…?" he muttered. Lieutenant Ford and a few of the marines chuckled.
Steve turned away, letting out a short, multi-toned growl of disgust.
Returning his attention to the cell's occupant, Major Sheppard frowned thoughtfully and leaned forward. He studied the irritated wraith in silence a moment. Then he cocked his head slightly. "His presence is really bugging you, isn't it?"
No response. The eerie motionlessness was back, only the view had shifted 90.
He decided to take it for an affirmative. "Now. Why would that be, I wonder…?" Sheppard murmured.
Letting out a low hiss, Steve slid his oval-pupils towards his captor. "What did you come down here to ask, Human?"
Sheppard caught the smoldering gaze and held it. "It's Sheppard," he said, more out of habit than offense.
"What did you come down here to ask, Major Sheppard?"
Sheppard frowned. This was interesting. The anger in the wraith's eyes wasn't directed at him. Well, maybe a bit was, but the majority… He didn't know where it was aimed, but he sensed it wasn't at him or any of the soldiers here. He silently cursed Steve. The wraith obviously was opposed to discussing his personal feelings regarding the new prisoner's presence, but, dammit, those personal feelings were getting interesting. Yet Sheppard couldn't pursue the topic because Steve had just steered the conversation to its original purpose, which was an opportunity he couldn't pass on.
Which, of course, the wraith knew…
Circling the cage, Major Sheppard positioned himself in front of Steve. The wraith held his gaze as he moved, eyes tracking. "The other wraith…" Sheppard began, "He's kinda throwing himself at his cell's force field…"
Steve snorted softly. "What has that got to do with me?"
"I want you to make him stop."
A slow, lazy, yet somehow long-suffering, blink. "Why should I?"
"Well…" Major Sheppard shrugged, "Considering the request you made a few hours ago, it might be wise to exhibit a certain degree of cooperation."
The wraith's tense posture relaxed. "Very well…" Light glittered off the long coat's faceted shoulders as Steve paced a tight circle. His straight, blue-lit hair swished to and fro as his head turned to keep Sheppard in view. "You realize he may not listen?"
Sheppard raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Why not?"
A disgusted growl. "He's not from my hive."
"Really?" Now that was a surprise… Sheppard had assumed that if the wraith were caught in the same place, they'd come from the same place. "Why should that matter? He's got a mask. You don't. Wraith like him listen to wraith like you." At least, that was Dr. Beckett's current theory…
Steve snorted. "A foolish assumption. What use are soldiers who switch allegiance to whichever commander addresses them?"
"I had wondered about that…" Sheppard admitted. He mussed his hair. "Well, if he won't listen, could you find out why he's doing it?"
Another disgusted growl, followed by a sharp turn and the accompanying snap of the wraith's heavy leather coat. "He does it because he was trained poorly."
Sheppard blinked. "That was fast. He won't listen, but he'll dis his teachers?"
The wraith's eyes rolled. "If he had been trained well, he wouldn't be doing it."
Sheppard supposed that made sense. "I see…" Not really, but… "So you haven't contacted him yet, then?"
"No," Steve snapped. He continued pacing in tight circles. "And I would prefer to only do so once. Is there anything else you wish me to ask?"
Straightening, Major Sheppard clasped his hands behind his head. "Well, since you mentioned it… How about, where his hive is. Where his hive's territory is. How much firepower it's got. How much man pow— Excuse me, wraith power it's got. Masked, unmasked, etc… How many darts it has. How many cruisers—"
A snort interrupted the lengthening list. "You do realize," Steve's hair rippled as he shook his head, "that this wraith isn't intelligent enough to provide any of that? Compared to me, or you, his mental capacity is negligible."
"Can't blame a guy for trying." Sheppard thought a moment, fishing for ideas. He caught one. "Okay then… Ask him if he's seen anything interesting."
Steve stopped short. "Did you even hear what I just said?"
"Yeah," Sheppard said, "I did. You said he's an idiot."
"He is not qualified to decide whether something is interesting."
Sheppard spread his hands encouragingly and smiled. "Sometimes idiots notice things. Just ask the question," he coaxed. "Take a look at what he shows you."
Silence… Steve's face was unreadable. His next words, which came almost a minute later, hissed past tightly clenched teeth. "And then?"
"Then?" Sheppard shrugged pleasantly. "Your intelligence ISN'T negligible."
More silence. This time of the icy, frigid, death glare kind.
Finally the Major sighed. "Look, Steve. Exercise your own judgment." He made a dismissive, shooing gesture. "Well, go on. Ask him."
The wraith expelled a sharp chuff of air. Then the green, annoyed eyes slipped close, and the pale face bowed slightly. The lithe, black-clad form went very still.
In the quiet that followed, a dropped pin would've hit the floor like a gunshot. Lieutenant Ford and the marines guarding the holding cell exchanged glances, each wondering how long this would take. Eyes drifting away from the statue-like prisoner, Major Sheppard added an indifferent shrug to the voiceless conversation. It would take as long as it took. There was nothing to be don—
His radio crackled in the stillness, startling him. Thankfully the prisoner's closed eyes meant he didn't see Sheppard jump. "Sergeant Bates to Major Sheppard."
Sheppard slapped his radio. "Sheppard here. Go ahead, Sergeant."
"The new prisoner stopped, Sir. He's not ramming the force field anymore."
"What's he doing now?"
"Just standing there, Sir. Doesn't seem to be doing anything."
The Major nodded, pleased. "He's communicating telepathically. Keep me posted, Sergeant. If he starts up again, let me know immediately."
"Yes, Sir."
"Sheppard out." Tapping his radio off, Sheppard gripped a horizontal bar and leaned forward, peering into the cage intently. Steve remained motionless.
"Think he's really doing it, Sir?" Lieutenant Ford whispered, moving to peer through the bars beside him. "Asking the question, I mean."
"Oh, he's doing it all right…" Sheppard muttered.
They both watched the prisoner silently for a while.
Suddenly Steve's body jerked with a short, gasping hiss. His face lifted slightly.
"Okay, that's weird," the Lieutenant remarked.
"Quiet, Ford. That's an order," Sheppard frowned in agreement. It WAS weird… The wraith's eyes were still closed, but they were moving, erratically tracking up and down and side to side beneath the pale lids. Furrows ticked across the whitewashed brow, spasming out of existence as quickly as they formed. Steve's lips twitched, repeatedly revealing and concealing his sharp, translucent teeth.
Sheppard leaned closer to the force field, morbidly fascinated by the display. It was like watching someone experiencing REM sleep. Only more active…
Steve's nostrils flared abruptly, and the beads decorating his feeding hand flickered with light, then dimmed as he inhaled deeply and hissed.
Okay. A LOT more active… Major Sheppard made a mental note to inform Carson of this episode. Whatever exchange was taking place between the prisoners' minds was a lot more complicated than trading visual imagery. Steve seemed to be processing data from a wide variety of sensory sources.
As if in conformation of his thoughts, the orifices on Steve's cheeks widened and he reeled back a step, violently expelling a chuff of air.
Sheppard made a second note. This time to remind himself to ask what interesting tidbit had triggered that response…
Apparently recovered, Steve snorted softly and moved back to his original position. The twitching and closed-eye tracking started again.
The marines guarding the holding cell kept a quiet vigil as Sheppard and Ford observed the telepathic conversation. Fabric rustled as they watched and waited, occasionally shifting their weight or craning their necks for a better view. Minutes passed. Glances of disbelief were traded and passed around like a telephone game. Sergeant Bates checked in saying the other prisoner was still imitating statuary.
The wraith continued to tic and jerk spasmodically, interspersing the quiet, involuntary responses with unpredictable louder, and more extreme, reactions.
Sheppard began to wonder how long Steve could keep this up. He had to tire eventually. Mentally at least, if not physically…
Fifteen minutes later, Ford was failing miserably at hiding the fact that he was bored, the marines were doing the wave by making subtle finger gestures, and Major Sheppard was feeling suitably impressed by the wraith's mental stamina. He was beginning to suspect that Steve's earlier reluctance to ask this particular question had nothing to do with the masked wraith's intelligence. It was the length of its answer…
Maybe Sheppard should've taken the subtle cue and picked a different question.
Oh well. Too late now…
He clapped Lieutenant Ford on the shoulder. "Hold down the fort," Sheppard whispered. "I'll be back in a bit."
Ford looked at him, wide-eyed. "You're gonna leave me with him? Like this?"
"Yeah," Sheppard glanced at Steve. "Something tells me this'll take a while."
"But it's freakin' creepy, Sir!" Ford softly hissed. "The whole eye thing—"
"There's a force field between you and half a dozen marines at your back!"
"But—"
"No but's, soldier!" Sheppard grinned. "I'm just gonna see if Carson's still here."
"That's what your radio's for!" Ford protested.
The Major glared sternly. "I have other things to check too. I'm leaving. Stay."
"What if he stops?" The Lieutenant was grasping at straws.
Sheppard rolled his eyes. "In that case, you radio me and I'll hurry back."
Before Ford could protest again, Major Sheppard straightened and pushed away from the cage, striding quickly for the alcove and the stairs within.
As the Major's footsteps died away, Lieutenant Ford tore his eyes from the spot where his commanding officer had disappeared and glanced back at the cage. Steve was still doing… Whatever… He looked at the marines, nodding in acknowledgement of their presence. The marines nodded stoically, as if to say, 'we got you covered.' "Okay," he muttered. "Just you guys and me. You and me." Cradling his stunner, he faced the cage again. "You and me… And the creepy twitching…"
Ford jumped slightly as Steve chuffed loudly and flexed his feeding hand. The beads flickered and the wraith hissed sinisterly. They dimmed again.
Lieutenant Ford swallowed uneasily. He missed the creepy staring already…
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Thank you for reading! Please review! Again, things I'm working on specifically are: 1. Maintaining a Season 1 feel in the flashback chapters. 2. Keeping the regulars in character.