It was a nerve-wracking hour-long flight from Sateda back to the Daedalus. Rodney spent most of the trip watching the HUD for hive ships and trying not to wince every few minutes. He hadn't been kidding when he had told Carson it hurt to sit. John had given him some ibuprofen from the medkit, but it hadn't done much to help with the constant throbbing ache. Putting any sort of pressure on the wound, say by sitting, sent stabs of pain down his leg.
As if being shot with an arrow wasn't bad enough, Rodney grumbled to himself. He had to get shot in one of the most ignoble places.
Sheppard teasing him in his lab and making bad puns was one thing. He knew John. He knew the comments weren't meant to hurt. The same could not be said for the Marines stationed on the Daedalus. Rodney had heard more than a few snickers and whispered jokes at his expense since coming aboard the ship.
Somethings never change, he thought and shifted in his seat again.
"You doing all right?" John asked, glancing at him.
"No," Rodney replied, twisting in the chair.
John looked up at the HUD. "We're almost back to the Daedalus. Once we land, Carson needs to look you over. Maybe give you something stronger."
Rodney had a vague memory of lying on his front, babbling nonsense after Beckett had dosed him with morphine, and shuddered. "I'll pass on a second chance to make a fool of myself, thanks," he said to John. "Besides, Carson will have his hands full getting the tracking device removed."
John frowned but let the matter drop as the Daedalus came into view in the distance. He pressed one of the tiles on his panel and said, "Jumper One to Daedalus."
"This is Daedalus," a male voice replied. "Colonel Sheppard?"
"Yeah. We're about ten minutes out. I need vectors for landing."
There was a brief silence, and then, "Colonel Sheppard, you're cleared for Landing Bay Two."
"Copy that," John replied.
"Colonel Sheppard," Caldwell said. "Were you successful?"
"We found Ronon. He's alive but needs medical attention. We also killed the Wraith commander who kidnapped him."
"I'm sensing a 'but' in there, Colonel."
Rodney and John exchanged a guilty look, and Rodney glanced into the rear section of the jumper. Ronon lay on one of the bench seats, asleep. Carson and Teyla sat on the opposite seat, alternately speaking softly to each other and checking on Dex.
"But Doctor Beckett wasn't able to remove the tracking device, sir," John admitted.
"I see," Caldwell replied, his tone stony, and Rodney winced. "There will be a medical team standing by in the landing bay, and I want to see you on the bridge as soon as you land, Colonel."
"Understood."
"Daedalus out," Caldwell said.
The jumper glided into the landing bay a few minutes later. Rodney stood at the edge of the bulkhead between the cockpit and the rear section of the jumper, watching the activity as the medical team entered the shuttle with a gurney in tow.
"Careful of his leg," Carson directed as two orderlies bent over Ronon. "Once we have him in sick bay, I need a series of x-rays of his back."
"Was there spinal trauma?" one of the orderlies asked, raising his hands and stepping back from Dex. "Get the backboard," he said to his companion, who nodded and disappeared into the landing bay.
"No," Carson replied. "His back is badly bruised, but he could stand and walk. The Wraith implanted a device in his back near his spine. I need detailed images before we try to remove it."
"Understood, sir," the orderly replied.
The other orderly returned carrying a rigid board. Together the two men carefully eased Ronon onto the board, secured it to the gurney, then hurried down the ramp and out of the bay with Beckett and Teyla trailing after them.
Sheppard finished shutting down the jumper, and Rodney followed him out of the bay and down the hallway.
"Where do you think you're going?" John asked.
"With you."
John shook his head. "I think I can make a mission report without your help."
Rodney scowled. "We both know Caldwell isn't too happy at the moment. I might be able to help with that."
"Oh?'
Rodney nodded. "I have an idea on how we can avoid any more hive ships until Carson can remove the tracker."
John studied him for a moment. "Fine," he agreed and led the way down the narrow corridor and up the seemingly endless flights of stairs to the bridge.
Rodney did his best to hide how much climbing hurt, but by the time they were outside the bridge, he was panting, the ache in his backside had increased, and he was seriously rethinking his plan to come with Sheppard.
Should have just gone back to your quarters, he thought as he braced a hand on the nearest bulkhead.
John paused outside the doors to the bridge. "All right?"
Rodney sucked in several breaths, then stood straight and nodded.
"Colonel Sheppard," Colonel Caldwell greeted as John walked onto the bridge. He handed a tablet computer to the technician standing near the back wall and walked over to the command chair. He glanced at Rodney and added, "Doctor McKay."
"Colonel," John replied.
Rodney nodded and surreptitiously tried to take some weight off his leg by resting a hand on the nearest console.
Caldwell sat in the command chair and turned back to John. "Care to explain why you brought Ronon Dex back to this ship while the tracking device was still active, Colonel?"
"We didn't have much choice, sir," John replied. "Doctor Beckett thinks the tracker is far more sophisticated than the last one the Wraith implanted in Ronon."
Caldwell glowered at Sheppard. "What does that mean?"
John hesitated and glanced at Rodney. "Umm, well, according to the initial scans Beckett did in the jumper, he thinks the tracker has several organic components that complicate removing the device."
Caldwell studied John for a moment with narrowed eyes. "Anything else?"
John pursed his lips. "Beckett picked up some sort of electrical signal coming from the tracker."
"He did?" Rodney asked with a startled glance at Sheppard. "You didn't mention that before. That could be very bad."
"Bad, how exactly?" Caldwell asked.
"The tracker Beckett removed last year was just that, a passive tracking device," Rodney explained. "Implant it in someone, and all you need to do is tune a receiver to the right frequency and follow the signal. If this one gives off a traceable energy signature, that could mean the device is used for more than just tracking a victim."
"Meaning what exactly?" Caldwell asked.
Rodney pursed his lips. "There could be any number of reasons, including," he glanced at John again, "possibly as a, umm, fail-safe." He refused to look at either John or Caldwell as he muttered the last word.
"Are you saying this device could potentially explode?" Caldwell demanded, splitting his glare between Rodney and Sheppard.
"Maybe?" Rodney replied. "Without seeing it, I have no idea. But it's something to consider."
Caldwell stood from his chair and walked over to John. He stopped a few inches from Sheppard, narrowed his eyes, and growled, "Colonel Sheppard, care to explain why you brought a device onboard that could potentially destroy my ship without telling me?"
"I admit I didn't consider the idea of a fail-safe," John replied, his expression flat. "I thought it was just a more sophisticated way to track a victim."
Caldwell shook his head, but before he could say anything, John continued.
"The jumper won't make it back to Atlantis, and Beckett said he needed more than just a scalpel to get the tracker out of Ronon. We had to come back here."
Caldwell crossed his arms over his chest.
"We're talking about Ronon's life here, sir," John added, meeting Caldwell's disgruntled stare.
"And you've just jeopardised the lives of everyone on this ship with your reckless disregard for protocol, Colonel," Caldwell rebutted. "I told you before we even started on this mission that our odds of successfully engaging with a hive ship were low. Now every hive in the quadrant can get a bead on us."
"Avoiding the Wraith shouldn't be a problem," Rodney interjected.
"Is that so, Doctor," Caldwell replied, switching his glare from John to Rodney.
"Yes," Rodney replied, the pain in his butt and leg forgotten as he squared off against Caldwell. "We know the tracker transmits on a subspace frequency. If the Daedalus were to make a series of random hyperspace jumps, that should keep the Wraith busy and give Carson the time he needs to safely remove the tracking device."
Rodney saw the moment John caught up to his train of thought. "Because there's no way to send or receive a subspace transmission while using the FTL drive," Sheppard said.
"Exactly," Rodney replied.
Caldwell narrowed his eyes as he stared at Rodney and then Sheppard. "This better work," he said. "We aren't in a position to take on a fleet of hive ships." He turned to the woman sitting to his right. "Captain Meyers, you heard the man. Set a course for -"
"Don't head straight for Atlantis," Rodney interrupted.
"Rodney," John hissed.
Rodney ignored him and added, "On the off chance this doesn't work, we don't want to lead a hive ship back to the city."
"Doctor, why don't you leave the flying to us." Caldwell held his glare on Rodney for another few seconds, then turned and nodded to Meyers. "Captain."
"Aye, sir. Setting an oblique course toward Atlantis."
Rodney watched as blue streaks appeared outside the windscreen and tried not to look at John or Caldwell. He didn't want either of them to see how nervous he was about his idea. He was betting all of their lives on the hope that the Wraith hadn't found a way to punch a subspace signal through a hyperspace window.
Jumping the Daedalus to hyperspace will work, he told himself, tightening his grip on the console beside him. But would it be enough? he wondered.
John rubbed the back of his head, glanced at Rodney, and turned to Caldwell. "We'll just -" he started to say but was interrupted when one of the med techs entered the bridge, stopped, and saluted.
"Sir," the man said with a glance at Rodney and John. "I have a message from Doctor Beckett for Doctor McKay."
"All right," Caldwell replied and nodded at Rodney.
"Doctor McKay?" the man asked, turning to Rodney.
"Yes. What's the message?"
"Doctor Beckett needs you to come down to the sick bay. It's urgent."
"What's happened?" John asked.
"There's a problem with the tracking device," the med tech replied.
"What kind of problem?" Rodney asked as visions of the tracker exploding ran through his mind.
"I'm, umm, I'm not sure. We did a series of scans, and as soon as Doctor Beckett saw them, he sent me to find you."
"Sir?" John asked with a glance at Caldwell.
"Go," Caldwell said. "If the Wraith find us, we'll deal with it somehow."
John nodded and tugged Rodney toward the door. "Let's go."
Rodney limped into the Daeldaus' sick bay a few minutes later with John behind him. Ronon was the only patient, lying in a bed against the near wall. He was asleep, dressed in a set of scrubs, and a clean bandage was taped to Dex's forehead. An IV line ran into his arm, but Rodney noted the monitoring equipment next to the bed was turned off.
Teyla sat next to Ronon and looked up when Rodney and Sheppard entered the room. "Colonel. Rodney," she greeted softly.
"How is he?" John asked, stopping at the end of the bed and nodding at Ronon.
"He woke up as Doctor Beckett was suturing the laceration to his leg. His back and ribs are bruised, and on top of his physical injuries, Ronon is dehydrated and exhausted."
"Two days of being hunted by Wraith will do that," John replied.
Teyla nodded. "Doctor Beckett has dealt with Ronon's other injuries. However, he is concerned about the tracking device."
"So we heard," Rodney said.
"Good. You're here," Carson said, walking over to the bed with a large envelope under his arm.
"What's the problem?" Rodney asked and tried to surreptitiously shift his weight off his left leg.
Carson frowned at him but said, "I think the tracker has been altered to prevent someone from simply removing it. The equipment here recorded the same energy readings as I saw in the jumper."
"So the tracker could actually explode?" John asked with a grimace.
I believe so, yes," Carson replied. "Then there's this." He waved Rodney and John over to a light box mounted on the wall. He opened the envelope, clipped an X-ray to the lightbox, and flipped the switch on the side of the box.
"This is an image we took as soon as Ronon arrived," Beckett said.
Rodney inched forward and squinted at the image. Nestled between two ribs and pressed against Ronon's spine was a rectangular blob roughly five centimeters long with a narrow protrusion on one end and a flat round section at the other.
"You can't really see them on the X-ray," Carson pointed to several thin wispy strands on the image, "but those are the filaments radiating out from the tracking device. They are anchored in the muscle tissue near Ronon's spine."
He held out the Ancient medical scanner to Rodney.
Rodney took the device and squinted at the screen, then checked the data associated with the images.
"They're organic?" Rodney asked, glancing at Carson.
"Yes," Beckett replied. "And those filaments are embedded deep into Ronon's muscle tissue. I can't simply remove the device while they are still anchored like that. It will cause too much damage."
"And who knows what else," Rodney murmured to himself, but Beckett must have heard him.
"That's why I sent for you. I'm hoping that if you can find a way to deactivate the device, the filaments will retract on their own. Then I can safely remove it."
Carson turned off the lightbox and slid the X-rays back into the envelope.
"How long will it take to remove the tracker once Rodney figures out how to deactivate it?" John asked.
"That's difficult to say," Carson replied. "Assuming everything goes to plan, at least a couple of hours. If there are complications once I'm in there …" He let the sentence trail off.
John, Carson, and Teyla all turned to Rodney.
Rodney grimaced. "Figures. Impossible job? Just get McKay to do it," he grumbled under his breath.
"You're always telling us you're the smartest man in two galaxies," John said, his expression stony. "None of us is going home until you figure it out. And you need to do it fast. The Daedalus can't hop around in hyperspace forever."
Rodney glowered in reply. "So I'm supposed to determine how an unknown piece of technology works and find a way to shut it down, all in what? A few hours?" He tried not to wince as the arrow wound throbbed.
John crossed his arms over his chest and shook his head. "So, what?" he challenged. "You're telling me the Wraith have finally devised something that can stump the great Doctor Rodney McKay?"
Rodney knew what John was doing. They had played this game before. "I didn't say that," he retorted with a scowl.
He snatched the envelope of X-rays from Carson and spun on his heel. His leg spasmed at the sudden movement, and he nearly lost his balance. He stifled a groan and forced himself to walk normally as he headed for the exit.
"If you want me, I'll be in the engineering lab."
Rodney let his frustration carry him out of the sick bay and around a corner before he braced one hand against the wall and took several deep breaths until the pain in his backside faded. Two of the Daedalus' Marines walked past him, and Rodney forced himself to stand straight.
One of the Marines glanced back, and Rodney pasted a crooked smile on his face, waiting for the Marines to disappear around the corner. Once they were gone and the ache in his backside had inched down from pounding to mere throbbing, Rodney pushed off the wall.
Solve the problem, he told himself as he limped down the corridor to a stairwell. The sooner you solve the latest impossible problem, the sooner you can find a bed and lie down.
Goal in mind, Rodney entered the engineering lab a few minutes later.
"Hyperdrive engines are within tolerance," Hermiod reported from his station near the door. "There does not appear to be any sign of Wraith ships tracking us."
"Good," Doctor Lindsey Novak replied from her seat inside the horseshoe-shaped engineering station. "It sounds like Colonel Caldwell's plan is working."
Rodney choked on that statement as he walked over to the horseshoe and dropped the scanner and the envelope with the X-rays on one of the consoles.
Novak glanced up from her computer with a startled squeak. "Oh, Doctor McKay. Hello! I wasn't … Were we … Umm, why are you here?"
"Yeah, hi," Rodney replied with an impatient hand wave. "I need to borrow some of your equipment."
"Oh, umm, okay. What do you need?"
"Access to a computer. And Hermiod."
"Am I to understand you are here concerning the Wraith tracking device implanted in the Satedan?" Hermiod asked.
"Yes," Rodney replied. "And the Satedan's name is Ronon Dex."
"We'll help any way we can," Novak said. She stood and glanced at Hermoid. "Won't we?"
"Em naem uoy, ew yb," Hermiod grumbled. He typed something on the board in front of him, refusing to look at Rodney or Novak. "What sort of assistance do you require, Doctor McKay?"
"I need a complete analysis of the tracking device," Rodney explained, walking over to one of the computer stations inside the horseshoe. "We need to figure out how it's powered and how to shut it off so Beckett can remove it."
"I see," Hermiod replied, his expression as inscrutable as ever. "You have scans of the device."
"I'm uploading them now," Rodney replied, plugging the medical scanner into a computer.
"I have the information," Hermiod reported.
Rodney nodded. "You look over the scans and see what you can find while I build a computer model we can use to test different scenarios on how to deactivate it," he ordered. "And we have to do this fast. As I was recently reminded, the Daedalus won't be able to evade the Wraith forever."
~*~*~*~ SGA ~*~*~*~
Carson sat at a borrowed computer in the corner of the sick bay, reviewing his notes on the tracking device. "So much creativity and ingenuity wasted on a device that's so malicious," he muttered, shaking his head.
"Doctor Beckett," Teyla called, and Carson looked up from the computer. "I believe Ronon is waking up."
Carson glanced at his watch, pinched the bridge of his nose, and closed the file with his notes. Almost two hours, he thought as he stood. He had hoped to hear something from Rodney by now. Was it possible there really wasn't a way to deactivate the device? he wondered, then shook his head.
"Don't think like that," he told himself. "Rodney will figure something out."
He stretched his back and walked over to Ronon's bed.
"And you need to check that puncture wound," he reminded himself, remembering how Rodney had limped out of the sick bay. "Foolish bugger has likely popped the stitches for all of his insistence that he's fine."
"Ronon?" he said in a low voice as he stopped at the side of Ronon's bed. He rested a hand on Dex's arm and noted how Ronon clenched and unclenched his hands. "Are you back with us now, lad?"
Ronon woke with a growl, and Carson dodged the fist that lashed out at him with practised ease.
"You're all right," Carson said, stepping back from the bed. "You're safe."
Ronon lowered his arm and glanced around the room. "Where am I?"
"The sick bay onboard the Daedalus," Carson replied. "You've had a bit of a rough day," he added with a smile as he checked the IV line running into Ronon's arm.
Ronon grunted and rubbed his free hand over the bandage on his forehead.
"You probably shouldn't do that," Carson said, and Ronon lowered his hand. "You have a fair few scrapes and cuts, not to mention several bruised ribs and vertebrae. You're lucky nothing was broken."
Ronon shifted his legs and winced.
"I cleaned out the gash in your leg, too. What caused it?" Carson asked with a curiously raised eyebrow.
"Shard of glass," Ronon replied.
Carson nodded. "Well, it was starting to get infected, but as long as you take the antibiotics, you should be fine. Once we're home, you'll need to use a cane for the next week or so until the stitches come out."
Ronon made a disgruntled face, and Carson frowned in reply.
"No arguments," Carson admonished.
Ronon studied him for a moment, then nodded. "How long before we get back to Atlantis?"
Carson pursed his lips. "That could be a wee bit complicated, I'm afraid."
"Complicated how?" Ronon asked.
Carson glanced at Teyla and took a deep breath. "There's a problem with the tracking device," he admitted. "I haven't been able to remove it quite yet."
"What?" Ronon demanded and twisted around, trying to see over his shoulder. He groaned and braced a hand over his ribs. "Get it out of me," he wheezed. "Now."
"Ronon, calm down," Teyla said, resting a hand on Ronon's arm. "Let Doctor Beckett explain."
Ronon sat back in the bed with his arms crossed over his chest and took several raspy breaths as he glared at Carson.
"Right," Carson said. "The fact is, this tracker isn't like the one the Wraith implanted in you seven years ago. It has been modified such that removing it could cause permanent paralysis, assuming it doesn't kill you outright if I try to remove it without deactivating it first."
Ronon stared at him for a moment, then pushed the bedcovers aside.
"Ronon, what are you doing?" Teyla asked, grabbing Ronon's arm.
Ronon shook off her hold. "I can't stay here. I won't bring the Wraith down on you too."
"That will not happen," Teyla said. "We are working on a solution."
"You said -"
"I have Rodney looking at my scans of the device now." Carson nudged Ronon back into the bed and pulled the bedcovers back over Ronon's legs. "Colonel Sheppard left a little while ago to check on him. Hopefully, we will hear something from him soon."
Ronon snorted out a breath and refused to look at either of them.
"I know it's hard," Carson said with a gentle smile. "But Rodney will figure something out, I'm sure. Just give him a little more time." He paused and pursed his lips.
"What?" Ronon asked.
"The fact that we need to find a way to deactivate the tracker isn't my only concern," Carson admitted. "The device is very close to your spine. It's going to be a … delicate operation."
Ronon stared at Carson for a moment, then focused on the wall. "You're saying even if McKay deactivates it, you can't remove it." From his defeated tone, Carson knew it was a statement, not a question.
"No. I'm saying you're going to have to be sedated -"
Ronon growled low in his throat.
"I know," Carson said, patting Ronon's arm. "I know it's not an option you want to consider, but if there is any chance of removing the tracker safely, that's the only way it can be done."
Ronon crossed his arms over his chest.
"Ronon, it will be all right," Teyla said.
Carson studied Ronon for a moment, then stepped back from the bed. "Once we hear from Rodney, you'll need to decide how you want us to proceed."
~*~*~*~ SGA ~*~*~*~
Rodney stood hunched over the computer, studying the partial schematic of the tracker.
"This is amazing," he muttered to himself. "Almost elegant in its design."
"Doctor McKay?" Novak asked.
"Just look at it," Rodney said, gesturing at the computer screen. "This level of miniaturisation is unheard of, even for the Ancients, much less anything you'll find on Earth. A completely self-sustaining power system that can last for years, maybe decades, without outside intervention." He shook his head. "I can't wait to study it further once Beckett removes it."
Novak glanced at the screen and made a disgruntled face. "If you say so," she replied and returned to her console.
Rodney stared at her for a moment, then focused on the schematic. Why was he the only one who could see the potential? he wondered. If he could figure out how the Wraith managed to make their components so small, there were any number of ways he could use that knowledge to improve systems both in Atlantis and on Earth.
He shifted his weight and winced as his lower back twinged. He had tried ignoring the ache from the arrow wound when he started building the schematic, but his constant squirming as he tried to find a position that didn't put pressure on the incision had drawn more than a few odd looks from Novak and Rodney had opted to stand instead. Standing hunched over the computer had created a different ache, though, and Rodney tried to surreptitiously stretch his lower back while he studied the screen.
It had taken more than an hour to build the schematic based on Beckett's scans, but he had yet to find any way to shut off the tracker. He had identified the narrow knob at one end of the device as the antenna for the radio. He suspected the rounded protrusion opposite the antenna either acted as a battery or somehow regulated the power the device gathered from its victim, but none of Beckett's scans had managed to penetrate very far inside the protrusion to know one way or the other.
"So how did they activate it?" he wondered aloud.
"The device may activate as soon as it is implanted," Hermiod suggested.
"That's not what I want to hear," Rodney retorted. "We need a way to shut it down if Beckett is going to safely remove it."
"There may not be a safe way to remove the device," Hermiod countered. "From what I have been able to determine from the medical scans, it appears the device powers itself using the electrical current produced by the human body."
"The tendrils Beckett found," Rodney said.
"Correct," Hermiod replied.
"Well, we aren't going to suggest to Beckett that he kill Ronon to power off the tracker," Rodney growled. Memories of Sheppard lying on the floor of a jumper with an iratus bug still attached to his neck played through Rodney's head, and he shuddered.
"Snamυh lυfetargnυ hcus htiw krow ot eerga reve I did γhw?" Hermiod muttered, never looking up from his console.
Rodney glared in Hermiod's direction but only received an inscrutable stare in reply. "You're sure we can't use the Daedalus' beaming technology and just beam the tracker out of Ronon?"
"That would be unwise," Hermiod replied. "We have not ruled out the possibility the Wraith designed the device to be tamper resistant. If there are such fail-safes, any unexpected disruption of the energy pulse could have an unfortunate result for Ronon Dex."
Unfortunate result, Rodney mimicked in his head as worst-case scenarios played through his imagination. There's an understatement.
"Somehow, I knew you were going to say that," Rodney grumbled to Hermiod. "And there's no way to generate an EM pulse focused enough to only affect the tracker." He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Just once, I'd like a piece of alien technology to come with a nice, easy-to-recognise off switch."
Novak snorted a laugh and quickly covered her mouth with one hand.
Rodney glanced at her, and Novak shook her head. "Sorry, I didn't mean to -" She was cut off by a hiccup and shook her head.
"Were you able to get more data for that rounded area of the tracker?" Rodney asked.
"No." Novak hiccuped again. "Perhaps that section is shielded in some way?" Hiccup.
"Not very likely," Rodney replied. "It's more likely the material is simply too dense for our sensors to penetrate. Which is even more evidence that it has to be the power regulator." And something worth further study, he silently added.
"If your hypothesis is correct," Hermiod pressed a few keys on his console, "our only option to safely power down the device is to map the circuits in that quadrant and find the one connected to your … off switch."
"Great," Rodney muttered and bent over his computer. "Do you have any idea how many circuit paths that is?"
"Approximately two hundred and twenty-seven," Hermiod replied.
"I had to ask," Rodney muttered, picking up the stylus. "All right, let's get started."
Over the following thirty minutes, Rodney felt his frustration, not to mention his various aches growing as they ran into one dead-end after another.
"That circuit also ends at one of the transistors," Hermiod said as Rodney traced yet another pathway.
Rodney dropped the stylus and straightened. "This isn't working. We need to come up with something else." And coffee, he added to himself. Coffee would undoubtedly help.
"There is no other option if you wish to find a solution quickly," Hermiod replied.
Rodney glanced at his watch and snorted. "You call this quick? I've been down here for almost two hours. How much longer do you think Colonel Caldwell is going to wait?"
The door to the engineering lab opened with a whoosh before Hermiod could answer.
Rodney glanced up from the computer as John, and the tantalising smell of coffee, entered the room. Sheppard skirted around Hermiod's station and walked over to the horseshoe console.
"Sheppard," Rodney greeted, staring longingly at the cup in John's hand. "What are you doing down here?"
"I came to see how things were going," John said.
"Slowly," Rodney replied. "Is that …" He pointed at the cup.
"Figured you'd need some by now," John said with a smile as he handed over the cup. "I also brought this," he added, holding up a pill bottle and shaking it.
"Umm, thanks," Rodney replied, taking the bottle in one hand and the cup in the other. He washed down a couple of the pain pills with a swallow of coffee and set the cup on the edge of the console.
"I don't … that's not," Novak said with a glance at the cup. "You really shouldn't have liquids around these systems."
"How's Ronon?" Rodney asked John, ignoring Novak.
"Still asleep when I left," John replied. "I thought you would have had something by now."
Rodney glowered at Sheppard and picked up the cup. "We've made progress," he replied, pointing to the computer screen.
John walked around the horseshoe and looked at the computer screen over Rodney's shoulder. "That's the tracking device?"
Rodney nodded and drank more of the coffee. "What we could piece together from Beckett's scans."
"This looks pretty good. What's the holdup?"
"The holdup," Rodney replied with a glare, "is that we still haven't found a way to shut it off."
"You're sure Beckett can't just cut it into pieces and remove it that way?"
"Yes, we're sure," Rodney replied. "An analysis of the device seems to confirm what Beckett suspected. The tendrils embedded deep in the muscle tissue are what's powering the device. Basically, Ronon is the battery." He paused and glanced at John. "And there's some sort of fail-safe to prevent exactly what we're trying to do here. We haven't ruled out the possibility the tracker might explode."
He focused on the computer screen. "Not to mention cutting up the tracker wouldn't leave me anything to study afterwards."
"You're kidding," John said with a scowl. "This is Ronon's life we're talking about here, and your priority is wanting to study some Wraith tech?"
Rodney straightened and pointed a finger at the schematic. "One, studying the tracker could come in handy," he retorted. "Anything I can learn about how they design their technology can only help us fight them."
John started to say something, but Rodney spoke over him.
"And two," he continued with an indignant huff, "Since it is Ronon's life we're talking about here," Rodney scowled at John, "we want to double-check everything so there aren't any surprises when Beckett tries to remove it."
John raised his hands and stepped back from the computer. "All right, calm down. So if he can't cut it up, how is Beckett supposed to remove it?"
"That's what we," Rodney pointed at himself and then Hermiod, "have been working on. We're tracing the circuits, looking for the one that leads to something that will safely cut the power to the rest of the tracker."
"You're assuming there is a way to safely power it down," John said. "Why would the Wraith care about turning the tracker off once they'd implanted one in someone?"
"Because I don't have any better ideas!" Rodney replied, throwing his hands in the air. He was tired. He ached. He knew Beckett, not to mention Ronon, was counting on him to once again find the answer. He didn't need Sheppard breathing down his neck too.
"We know we can't beam it out," Rodney continued, glaring at John. "Carson can't cut it out without potentially paralysing Ronon or worse. I could hit it with an EM pulse, assuming, of course, that Beckett is okay with me frying most of his medical equipment at the same time."
"I think Colonel Caldwell would have issues with that one, too," John offered with a grim smile.
"Probably," Rodney retorted, rubbing his forehead. "Tracing circuits is all I've got left. So unless you have a better idea, you can go." He waved one hand toward the door and turned back to the computer.
"All right, all right. I get it," John said. "How much more time do you think you need?"
Rodney squeezed his eyes shut and tried to get his temper under control. "I don't know," he ground out, glancing at Sheppard. "This is some of the most dense circuitry I've ever encountered. More than two hundred on a board a centimeter across. Any of them could route to something we can use to safely disrupt the power." We hope, he mentally added.
John glanced at his watch. "That means you could be another three or four hours. We don't have that kind of time."
"Yes, thank you, Colonel Obvious," Rodney retorted. "I'm aware of that."
John pursed his lips but thankfully didn't say anything.
"The good news is," Rodney continued, "we've already ruled out about fifty of them. Hopefully, I'll have something soon."
John studied him for a moment, then stepped back from the console. "I'll go give Beckett and Caldwell a status update," he offered and turned toward the door.
"Good idea," Rodney grumbled, watching Sheppard leave the room.
"All right," Rodney said once John was gone. He finished the coffee and set the cup to one side. "Let's try the next path."
"You may proceed," Hermiod said.
Rodney traced his selected circuit path and grimaced when it ended at what appeared to be another innocuous transistor.
"Looks like another dead-end," Rodney muttered to Hermiod. "Let's try -"
"Wait," Hermiod interrupted. "Highlight that path again, please."
"It's nothing," Rodney said. "Just another of those weird transistors."
Hermiod looked up from his board. "Retrace the circuit path, please."
Rodney shook his head but did as asked. "See," he retorted when the path ended at the same transistor. "It's nothing."
"On the contrary, it is everything," Hermiod replied. "Removing that transistor will disrupt the power to the entire device."
Rodney studied the schematic for a few seconds, then shook his head in amazement. "I think you're right," he said, glancing at the empty doorway.
"Sheppard!" he yelled and frowned when John didn't reappear. "You," he pointed to a tech working on a system in the corner. "Go find Colonel Sheppard."
"But," the man replied with a glance at Novak.
"Go, go!" Rodney told him, making a shooing motion at the door. "I need Sheppard back here now."
The man waited until Novak nodded, then set down the wrench in his hand and left the room. He returned a minute later with John.
"What's the emergency?" John asked, walking back into the room.
"I found it," Rodney replied, ignoring Hermiod muttering behind him.
"Show me," John ordered.
Rodney pointed to the highlighted circuit path. "All Carson needs to do is remove that transistor. That should cut the power, allowing him to remove the tracker."
John squinted at the screen. "You're sure?"
Rodney glanced at Hermiod, who bowed his head in reply.
"We're sure," Rodney replied.
John studied the screen a moment longer, then stepped back and gestured toward the door. "All right, let's go talk to Beckett."
"Wait. Carson is going to need a printout of the schematic."
Rodney sent the file to the printer in the corner of the room, highlighted the path to the transistor on the printout, then followed John out of the lab and back through the maze of corridors to the Daedalus' sick bay.
"Colonel. Rodney," Teyla greeted and stood from the chair next to Ronon's bed.
"Sheppard," Ronon said as Sheppard stopped at the side of the bed.
Rodney stood at the end of the bed and casually leant against the foot rail.
"Nice to see you finally awake," John replied.
Ronon grunted, glancing from John to Rodney. "Something's wrong. There's no way to remove the tracker, is there?"
"Who are you talking to?" Rodney retorted with an indignant frown. "Of course, there's a way."
"You found something?" Carson asked, stopping at the end of the bed.
Rodney nodded and held up the schematic.
Carson glanced at Ronon and motioned toward the other side of the room. "Show me."
"Stay here," Ronon said.
"I don't think -" Carson started to say.
"Want to hear it myself," Ronon said.
Rodney glanced from Ronon to Beckett and handed Carson the schematic. "See that?" he asked, pointing at the tiny transistor.
Carson squinted at the schematic. "Not really."
Rodney lowered his arm and scowled at Beckett. "Right there." He tapped the paper. "Remove that transistor, and it should render the tracker inert."
Carson studied the drawing for several seconds. "Just how small is this, this transistor?"
"About fifty microns," Rodney replied absently.
Beckett looked up with a shocked expression and handed Rodney the schematic. 'You're kidding."
"What? You wanted a way to turn off the tracker. That's the way."
Carson shook his head. "I'm a doctor, not an engineer, Rodney. How do you expect me to do that?"
"I don't see what the problem is." Rodney took the paper and pointed at the highlighted circuit path. "Everything you need is right here. Just follow that circuit line to that junction," he explained, pointing to the various points on the schematic. "That leads you to the transistor. Novak or someone in the engineering department should have the tools you'll need to remove the transistor from the board."
Carson tsked. "It's not that simple."
"Of course it is," Rodney insisted, his temper flaring.
Everyone had demanded he find a solution, he silently fumed. He had found them one. What did Carson expect him to do now? Remove the tracker for him too? Rodney shuddered at the idea.
Carson took the paper and shook his head. "I suppose it could be possible. I'll need some sort of magnifier, not to mention the tools Rodney mentioned." He looked over at Dex and added, "Ronon? This is your decision, but I won't lie to you. What Rodney is proposing is not going to be easy."
Ronon crossed his arms over his chest and refused to look at any of them. "Do it," he muttered.
"You understand the risks?" Carson pressed. "These are nearly microscopic components. Even the smallest error could kill you."
Ronon met Beckett's gaze. "Won't live like that again. Death is better."
Carson sighed and studied the schematic. "All right, then. If you're sure?"
Ronon nodded.
Carson waved to an orderly on the other side of the room. "I've had the OR team standing by for the last hour. We'll get you prepped and then see if Rodney was right, I suppose."
"Hey!" Rodney exclaimed.
"Doctor Beckett?" the orderly asked at the same time.
"We're ready," Carson said to the orderly. "If you would be so kind as to take Ronon?"
"Yes, sir," the orderly replied.
He unlocked the wheels for Ronon's bed and pushed the bed away from the wall.
"We will be here when you wake," Teyla said to Ronon with a gentle smile.
Ronon crossed his arms over his chest and grunted in reply as the orderly pushed the bed through a door on the other side of the room.
"As for you lot," Carson waved a hand toward the exit, "no sense in you staying here. This is going to take some time." He glanced at the drawing of the tracker and shook his head.
"Ronon trusts you," Teyla said and rested a hand on Carson's arm. "You can do this."
"I hope so, lass," Carson replied with a hesitant smile. "Now go, all of you, and let me get on with this," he added with a glance at John.
"Come on," John said, turning toward the door. "We'll head over to the mess hall and find some dinner while we wait."
"Good idea," Beckett replied, stepping toward the door where the orderly had disappeared with Ronon.
Rodney was still weighing the idea of finding something to eat against his desire to find the nearest bed when Sheppard tugged on his arm.
"Hey, let's go," John told him in a low voice. "You did your part, now let Beckett do his."
Rodney's stomach rumbled in reply, and he nodded. "I guess I could eat something."
John kept one hand on Rodney's arm and turned back to Beckett. "You'll keep us informed?"
Carson nodded. "I'll have someone come find you when Ronon is out of surgery."
