ACT 1 – DISCOVERY
Chapter 3 – Running Late
The arm restraints weren't the most comfortable things, but at least the Alliance version had padding to the binds around her elbows and wrists.
The trick with these was to keep your shoulders and arms as relaxed as possible, but, even with that, hours spent sat with your arms behind your back was not comfortable. Seeal had tried to fill some of her time recalling the various ways to get out of arm restraints, but since she didn't have the necessary tools to actually do so, it was a purely mental exercise. However, it had helped distract her from the unending boredom or having to listen to the noisy scum in the adjoining cell.
The Olesia Alliance Enforcement holding was made up of pretty standard metal mesh cages, one large pen to her left, which held various people of different levels of scum or 'made the wrong choice' types waiting for processing by Enforcement. Meanwhile, she had her own adjoining smaller side cell thanks to being deemed 'high risk'. She took that as a high compliment.
Unfortunately, it still meant she shared a metal chain mesh wall with the larger pen and had to endure the constant fights breaking out in the overcrowded crush in there. Currently two males were shouting aggressively at each other, which was following by the smash of knuckles against flesh and bone.
"I'll skin your hide off your face and hang it around my neck as a prize," one of the thick-skulled morons declared.
"I'd like to see you try," his opponent shouted back.
Seeal didn't bother to look round and watch. She kept her attention forward towards the locked mesh door of her personal cell. The guards watching over the pens were good at their job and, annoyingly, one was stationed right outside her cage door. Watching a Guard shift his weight from one leg to the other through his watch duty was hardly an interesting way to fill her time.
Another barrage of shouting from the next cell was now unavoidable and she had to glance round to find out what the Wraith shit was happening in there. Two large bald males were in the middle of a fight, one had his arm around the other's neck.
None of the Guards seemed interested in stopping the fight, which was a point of professional annoyance for her, but they could probably see what she could, that the fight wasn't really that serious. It was borne of boredom and the males making sure they were seen as tough in here.
"Oi!" A loud shout cut through the noise though and she glanced to the guards' side of the cage doors to see that the Enforcement Lead Guard had returned. He moved up to the other pen's mesh wall and pointed at the two fighting males. "You two stop it now or I'll stun you both and hang you up from your heels. Alliance law lets me do that, and don't think we haven't done it plenty before."
The threat worked surprisingly well, the Lead Guard's voice having held an excellent mix of military-like authority and real threat.
"I don't want to hear one more bad word out of either of you two," the Lead Guard continued. "Understood?" He demanded.
There were some vague, barely audible noises from the two fighting scum in question.
Seeal was impressed.
The Lead Guard's eyes were suddenly on her. "You looking at something, Dreamstation scum?"
She looked away, but made sure to take her time and look as indifferent as possible. But the Lead Guard stepped into her view, standing outside her own cell, glaring at her.
"I see you eyeballing me, or any of my Guards, again and I'll be happy to add leg restraints," he threatened.
She redirected her attention to a section of wall just past his left shoulder, making sure to keep her expression blank.
"We know exactly why you're in here, Scum," the Lead Guard added aggressively. "One word from me back to the Elite and your sentence will be trebled for what you've done."
She kept her attention on the wall.
"And I'll be happy to add arm restraints to all of you," the Lead Guard added more loudly to the rest of the cages, "if I hear any more fights."
Seeal kept her eyes on the wall, aware of the Lead Guard's boots retreating, and then a gentle grumpy murmuring in the other cage told her the male had left.
She guessed she wasn't going to be able to ask for her arm restraints to be removed then.
The sound of movement on the other side of the dividing mesh to her left caught her attention, but she kept her gaze forward.
"Hello, pretty," a slimy voice declared its rudeness and stupidity.
She ignored the male and resisted the urge to shift her weight, the thinly padded bench providing little cushioning when sitting so long.
"What little thing did you do to get yourself trussed up like that, huh?" The male voice continued. Clearly the Lead Guard's interest in her had made her more intriguing for one of the bored and, in this particular case, smelly males on the other side of the mesh. "Gives me ideas of what I'd like to do to you."
That required a response, so Seeal looked round. She just moved her head, keeping her body facing forward. The smelly male on the other side of the mesh had its mouth hanging open and his tongue partly out of his mouth, in a disgustingly overtly sexual display. He lifted his eyebrows in a way he presumably thought was alluring.
She lowered her head slightly to look at him from under her brow and fixed her gaze right into, and through, his eyes. It was her old Security Lead stare and it had been one of her most powerful tools back on Dream. Everyone caved to it eventually, with the minor exception of one particular male Elite, but best not to think about him right now.
This smelly male couldn't withstand even a second of her steady, unending stare and glanced away. "Whatever. Your loss, stupid female," he cursed as he got up and moved away, muttering insulting things regarding her anatomy.
She kept The Stare focused on him though, watching as he sat down and glanced back at her, unnerved and not understanding why. Someone next to him laughed at it all and the smelly male turned his embarrassed wrath on that male instead.
She looked back to the front of her cage and reminded her shoulders to relax. Outside her cell, the guard shifted in place, his attention turning away to the left with interest.
Some familiar commotion entered the room, the sounds of someone new being added to the main pen. The guards ordering people back, the cage door was unlocked and then there was the squeak of someone's shoes as they were shoved inside the cell, and then the door slammed again. Hardly interesting.
She shifted her backside on the uncomfortable bench, trying to encourage some blood flow back into one leg. She contemplated crossing her legs up on the bench, but she preferred to keep both boots on the floor in case of something happening. Best to be ready to move at a moment's notice in this kind of place.
Movement on the other side of the mesh wall caught at her attention again, but she didn't look round. Was smelly back?
"Don't bother with her," the previous disgusting male's voice called from across the other cell though, so that excluded him. "She's not worth the time."
Someone sat down on the bench on the other side of the dividing mesh, but nothing was said. Maybe they just wanted the spot on the bench near the mesh wall, or someone was being more subtle about approaching her.
The sensation of being intensely studied niggled at her instincts, but she kept her eyes forward, appearing indifferent and uncaring.
"I know who you are," a male voice declared quietly.
"That's nice for you," Seeal replied, not looking round at him.
"Dreamstation, right?" The voice asked. Hardly a surprise considering that the Lead Guard had announced it to everyone, unless this was the latest arrival into the pen.
She let out a heavy sigh, making sure her disinterest was obvious.
"I'd heard you'd been killed," the voice added.
That was more interesting.
She let out a brief sarcastic chuckle. "Let me guess: you were told Creass killed me."
"That was one of the theories. Do you remember me?" The voice asked.
"Probably best you don't announce here that I might know you," she explained, not looking round.
"My name is Ptic," he supplied.
The name was familiar. "Intermediary?" She checked.
"That's right," he replied, his voice quiet.
He had been a low level introducer, working for a consortium that had worked as intermediaries between those looking for certain items or services and those who could fulfil those requirements.
"How did you get here?" Ptic pushed. "From what I knew about you, it would take a Wraith high on Star Dust to take you down."
She let a faint smile cross her lips at the compliment. "I suppose that's a good enough description of an Elite warrior."
There was a faint pause. "You were caught by Elite?" Ptic asked with clear shock. "Since when do Elite play Enforcement?"
The Guard outside glared into her cell and she looked away, Ptic falling silent as well.
She waited until her Guard glared back into the other pen again.
"Did you hear about the Quantum dealer named Khor?" She asked quietly.
"Yeah, he was pushing top Quantum but disappeared. Clearly got killed off by a competitor."
"Creass was working with him, but turned out Khor was a disguised Wraith. Elite hunted Creass' trail and caught me."
"Wraith piss," Ptic swore with feeling. "Wraith playing dealers, are you sure?"
"Oh yes, you don't forget a forest full of Wraith racing at you promising immediate death by culling."
"Wraith piss," Ptic muttered again, sounding worried, which implied his intermediary work had expanded into Quantum. "Any more disguised Wraith out there playing dealers?"
"How would I know?" She frowned. "I have more important things to focus on, like not ending up in a Rosenthalian prison," she muttered.
"Rosenthal?" Ptic asked. "Why there?" It was well known how Rosenthal dealt with their prisoners.
"Let's just say I got blamed for some of Kolya's mess before he became the great and powerful King of the Genii."
The man scoffed. "Damn Kolya. He's been cleaning out dealers and smugglers who used to cover his back. King of Scum."
"Creass been hit?" She asked with a frown, wondering if Kolya might have targeted him.
"Not that I've heard. Heard he moved back to hide in the lower levels of Dreamstation."
She doubted that was true since she'd purposefully planted that rumour not long before she'd left Creass' organisation.
"I'd have thought you would be able to escape anywhere," Ptic muttered, some suspicion creeping into his voice.
"Well, you try scamming Elite warriors and see how they treat you," she told him sarcastically. "Lucky my head is still attached."
"Hey," her Guard had noticed the conversation. "No talking."
Seeal looked round at the Guard. "They're talking in the other cell," she pointed out the flaw in the Guard's logic.
"Not you," the Guard pointed at her through the mesh.
"Am I allowed to breathe too?" She asked.
"We'll see," he threatened back.
"I'm sure the Elite would love to hear how their deal was ruined by some twat in a uniform getting overly hostile," she replied.
The Guard glared at her with his lips pressed tightly together.
She smiled at him. "I'm still thirsty by the way; someone was supposed to get me some water hours ago."
The Guard gave her a narrow-eyed glare and turned away, talking quietly into the air, no doubt on a link to someone. Hopefully the conversation involved water.
"What deal did you make with the Elite?" Pticasked.
"It's not important," Seeal replied without looking round at him.
"Look," Ptic' voice moved closer to the mesh, "I've broken away from my consortium and we've got a lot of Quantum dealings. Are the Elite watching dealers?"
"How am I in any position to know that?" She looked round at him. "I've been stuck in cages like this," she made sure she was starting to sound angry now. "Without water," she added more loudly to the Guard.
"If you get out of Alliance hands, there'll be a job for you with us private intermediaries," Ptic tried to tempt her.
She glanced round at that. "Me? An intermediary?"
"Why not?" Ptic had his face pressed up to the mesh, looking pretty anxious now. "I can guarantee you a position with us. Do you know if the Elite are tracing dealers still?"
She frowned at him. "It's a little odd you get put in that cell while I happen to be held on Olesia," she narrowed her eyes at him. "With your pressing questions."
Ptic pulled his face back from the mesh. "What? You think I'm here to get information out of you?"
She stared at him suspiciously then leaned forward. "You tell the Elite that I'm giving information on Kolya only and I'm not going to give them anything more."
She looked back to the Guard. "Where's my water?" She asked loudly.
"I'm not a spy trying to get information out of you," Ptic insisted. "I'm honestly asking you."
"Sure," she laughed. "As if an intermediary thinks anything is free. You openly admitted you're an intermediary related to Quantum while you're in an Enforcement cell. They're bound to have recording devices listening to us."
Ptic looked up and around, nervous now.
"So, you're either a bad actor," she told him, "or you're stupid."
He looked back at her, eyes wide and worried for certain now.
"And if you're stupid," she continued, "let me give you some free advice, information is all the Alliance is interested in from the likes of us. Do what I did, offer them something they want and set your terms."
He frowned at that.
"Also," she added, "if you get fed up with people asking you questions, best way to get some space is to make a scene."
She got up quickly from the bench, though it took a bit more effort than expected thanks to her legs having stiffened up after hours spent sat down. "Where's my damn water?" She demanded of the Guard.
"Sit back down," the Guard threatened.
"So it's illegal now to stand up, is it?" She demanded loudly. "We have rights in here you know," she added and there was a chorus of agreement from the next pen.
"Sit!" The Guard drew a baton stick out of his holster.
"Or what?" She challenged him loudly.
The scum in the next pen started shouting encouragements at her and insults at the Guard.
"Anyone of you hurt me and I'm not talking to the Elite anymore," she said loudly. "And you can tell that particular male Elite that he can take a fish and shove-"
"You, shut it!" The Lead Enforcement Guard interrupted her as he abruptly returned.
"Or what?" She challenged him, having to shout now over the growing riotous noise in the other cell.
"Get her into solitary," the Lead Guard ordered loudly.
The Guard outside her cell grinned as he unlocked the cage door.
She braced herself ready, but it was tough to fight with your arms locked behind your back in such a narrow cell, but she'd have a go. The Guard strode in, baton high and swinging round and down towards her middle.
She darted sideways and saw the end of the baton catch the mesh wall of the cell, which stole most of its momentum by the time it reached her. She made sure to make the impact look much worse though, dropping to her knees coughing, the riotous uproar in the other cell now nearly deafening.
The Guard was wrestling her up off the floor by one arm and another pair of hands caught her other arm, the two Guards carrying her out of the cell. She had no time or space to do much, so she just hung off their hands, letting them carry her as she spat and coughed for show.
She watched the floor sliding below her, the shouting and screaming of the locked up scum filling her ears until a siren went off.
Then the doors shut behind her and the noise was blocked away.
She got her boots under her and the Guards let go of her arms. She straightened up to find the Lead Guard smiling at her.
"The Elite should shove a fish where exactly?" He asked with a bemused smile.
"I never said that," she smiled back as her former Guard from outside her 'cell' undid her arm restraints. "Nice work with controlling that baton," she told him.
"You made it look good," he replied as her arms were finally free.
She sighed with delight as she flexed her arms, shaking them out.
"You think Ptic will talk?" A female voice asked and Seeal glanced over the Lead Guard's shoulder to see the Division Agent enter from her hidden little office. Or perhaps it was the Lead Guard's office that she'd taken over for this little mission.
"I think so," Seeal reported. "He's clearly terrified about the Khor news and that the Elite were involved."
"Let's hope so," replied the female Agent, who had declined to give her name when she'd asked for Seeal's help with this case. "Thank you for your assistance."
"You're welcome," Seeal replied but the woman was already heading back into the office. "Do you know you've got two mid-level weapons smugglers in that pen?"
The Agent paused and looked back. "Yes, we do," she answered and headed into the office, the door closing behind her back.
Seeal waited a beat for the door to fully close and then looked at the Lead Guard. "She's nice," she smiled sarcastically.
"She's Division," the Lead Guard shrugged and she heard one of the Guards chuckle. "There's a spot on a transport craft for you on a supply run. It'll take you through the Portal to Athos, then you can make your way back home from there."
"Thanks," Seeal nodded. She glanced around the Enforcement lobby space. "You got any food around? I've missed at least one meal."
"There's food through there, help yourself, but you'll need to eat on the footstep to meet the transport," the Lead Guard commented.
"The Security way," Seeal nodded. She'd rarely had enough time to actually sit and eat a meal on Dream.
One of the guards offered her a box in which she'd left her wrist timepiece and personal electronic pad before she'd been 'incarcerated'. She tapped the pad awake to see that she had a load of text links, and that it was after Late Meal in the Facility. No wonder she was hungry.
She said her goodbyes and headed into the room the Lead Guard had indicated. The Guards' buffet selection had helpful pre-filled bread rolls, so she grabbed one of those and a large kita fruit and headed back out. Following the clear signs up towards the landing pad on the building's roof, she glanced through her messages.
Most of them were about the Computer Project, keeping her in the loop while she was on assignment today, then she had two text links from Ru and decidedly none from Oneakka or Massa. She was a little surprised Oneakka hadn't sent a text link all day, but then he'd been behaving a little strangely since Halling had left on the big Skerti hunt. Massa had warned her that Oneakka could be "overly ambitious" at this stage of his recovery following injury, but the man appeared just plain obsessed with his rehab. He was in the Rehab Gym twice a day, had multiple daily sessions with his Physical Therapist, and was constantly talking about his medical review, which was in three days time. He had somehow convinced his Personal Healer, Meiyo, to assess him for a return to non-battle rotation work, which would also allow him to go back to sparring. Admittedly, his recovery was pretty amazing. Two weeks ago he'd been barely able to walk without bracing his wound-site, but now, if you didn't know what had happened to him, you'd not be able to tell.
But she could tell. He had a noticeable hitch in his middle when he did certain things, like when sitting down onto the grassy slope with her in the Hydroponics Bay to play with the baby goats, or if he had to pick something up off the floor. It wasn't that he couldn't do it, but she could see the discomfort. Of course he wouldn't hear about it, instead would boast how much weight he could now lift that day and how long he could run in the Rehab Gym.
He was definitely being tetchier than normal, starting arguments about silly random things, but then oddly very willing to apologise to her afterwards. He'd even given her some more music for her collection and he'd organised them going to visit Jin Arezou the day after tomorrow, the trader who had introduced her to pit fighting and who had turned out to be an old friend of Oneakka's family. She was rather nervous about seeing Jin again actually, but also really looking forward to it.
She emerged out of the last stairwell onto the landing pad of the Enforcement building and found the waiting Transport Craft. The pilot waved her inside and she hurried in through the hatch to find one lone spare seat waiting for her beside two workers who nodded to her. She secured herself in, clearly just in time, as the Transport Craft began lifting up into the sky of Olesia.
Seeal started on her food, devouring half of the bread roll in the short time it took the Craft to join a line hovering in the air near the Portal, waiting for their time to dial out.
Chewing on a mouthful of bread, she checked the time again. The goats would be bedding down by now, curling up to sleep, and interrupting them by the time she got back to the Facility would only result in the goatlings being tired and difficult tomorrow. She really enjoyed the evening visits to see the goats, usually with Oneakka after they had Late Meal with Massa. They usually walked to the Hydroponics Bay together, which did Oneakka good alongside his manic rehab schedule, and they then usually sat with the goats for an hour or so. He always seemed very relaxed there and it was clearly good for him to be around the trees and plants, and bonding with the goats. It was good for her too to have those things.
No other silly reasons.
And if Oneakka was to be believed, once he passed his medical review in three days and started on rotation again, he would be working shifts in the Facility and be in the Sparring Gym a lot, so their evenings together were soon to stop, or at least be far less frequent. Which was fine; life had to return to normal and she needed to get used to it.
It was just a shame that she'd lost one of her last evening visits with him today.
The Transport shifted and she looked forward to see the Olesia Portal glowing ahead of them and then abruptly it was replaced with the snowy landscape of Athos. Seeal grimaced at the sea of white-coated fields, roads and trees below. The Transport glided up towards the snow-covered Athosian Lead City of Tjaru, tiny snowflakes falling against the front screen.
She quickly finished the last of the bread roll meal as the pilot touched the Transport down with a gentle rock. She started on the kita fruit as the other passengers got up and the hatch opened. The evening Athosian air washed in and she watched as the others huddled against what was presumably cold air as they headed outside. Seeal nodded her thanks to the Pilot and headed out too, her boots crunching down onto snow flattened by multiple boots and looked up at the outer wall of Tjaru, its unusual gateway towers seeming oddly unattractive to the snow and ice.
Finishing the kita fruit, she headed away from the city towards the busy road that would take her back down to the Portal. The carts had formed muddy tracks through the deeper snow here, so she kept to the higher set pathway alongside the road that had more undisturbed snow which was safer to walk on. When she got back to the Facility she'd have a nice hot shower to get rid of the prison smell and curl up in bed with some reading, or maybe just fall right to sleep on her amazingly comfortable Alliance mattress.
Another cart rolled past her and she looked round, noticing the various confused stares she was getting from those in the carts and from the pedestrians walking on the other side of the road. She recognised the type of look though; she was dressed in simple trousers and a short-sleeved top while they were all in thick coats and hats. They probably thought she was mad, but, thanks to her Glisi blood, the air felt only chilly to her. Nothing to worry about.
Still, she was now especially looking forward to the nice hot shower waiting for her back home in the Facility.
000000
It was dark outside the glass-walled corridor that ran along the outskirts of the south pier, the glowing lights of Atlantis shining across the dark water outside. John loved the view any time of day, and he'd been seeing it a lot over the last two weeks. Multiple times a day he walked this path on his regular 'rounds' in his role as liaison between Atlantis and the visiting team of scientists that arrived six days a week from the Elite.
Colonel Carter had designated a section of the south pier for most of the joint taskforce work with the Elite. Besides it being a 'safe' distance from the more often habitable parts of the city while experimental technology was developed, the chosen range of linked buildings were full of tall, wide atriums giving plenty of space for the meeting of the brainiacs from Earth and Alliance. As John turned left off the corridor into the first series of linked atriums, he peered down the interconnected length of rooms. It was late evening now, so no one was here, the Elite crew having left hours ago now. Given the long full days, Colonel Carter had been pretty strict on ensuring the teams didn't overwork and, somewhere along the line, John had taken on making sure that order was followed.
Besides the busy working days was really helping to distract him from constantly worrying about Teyla.
Whether she was okay.
That she wasn't currently waist-deep in a battle to the death against a raving mass of Skerti with their long fangs and-
Damn it.
He clamped down on his overactive imagination and full colour mind's eye vision of that fight.
He had to focus on his work. Freaking out about whether Teyla was even still alive was allowed when he was alone in his quarters at night, being kept awake missing her, hoping she was safe. Not being fed on by a Skerti as she screamed for his help-
Damn it, he'd done it again.
He shook his head as he moved into the empty interlinked atrium, listening just in case anyone was still loitering around. These scientists could be pretty determined when they got their mind focused on a job, though admittedly the groups working on the taskforce subjects in these particular rooms were not quite so manic. He gazed across the collection of tables all pushed together into a super-table, the surface littered with dark laptops, tablets and even notepads. Beyond the super-table a large whiteboard almost seemed to glow in the low light. Today it held what appeared to be a large complex doodle of one of the Elite stunners. The Elite's scientists had brought several energy weapons for 'show and tell' and for the city scientists to disassemble and tinker with, or whatever they did. Presumably they weren't reverse engineering them, because the Elite were providing the full manual on how to build them.
When the energy weapons had first been delivered, all the city's military personnel had found an excuse to happen to pass by and have a go in the side room that had been designated the shooting range. John, of course, already had plenty of experience using the Alliance tech in the field with the Elite, but he'd still made sure to have a go. Since then the scientists had started disassembling the space guns, much to everyone's annoyance, but hopefully soon there would be an Earth-made prototype to try out. John had pulled rank a bit there, using his experience of using the tech before as a good reason why he should be the first to try out the new prototype when it was made. Though the scientists had been rather suspiciously quick in eagerly agreeing to his request. He was sure they'd take every precaution and it was worth it; having that honour.
He passed by the whiteboard and peered into the next atrium space which was used by the taskforce working on studying and replicating the Elite defuser tech to sew into clothing to dissipate Wraith stunners. They were doing particularly well, already starting work on Atlantis made versions, and hopefully a prototype uniform would be made soon enough. John hadn't volunteered to be the guinea pig for that first prototype testing; he hated being stunned.
Heading back out into the corridor, he lifted his tablet and recorded that all was empty and tidy in the first taskforce area. He'd not really expected to find anyone in there, there were instead two particular scientists who he'd bet good money on still being in the other taskforce section. He had received some emails while he'd been walking here, so he tapped into them. One was Sumner's obsessively regular email 'reminding' everyone which areas of the city the Elite guests were allowed to visit when they were here and what sections were strictly off limits. As if any of the guests would even have a chance to wander off, the days were pretty regimented and the scientists spent the entire day either in their assigned atrium space or on short walks along the pier during breaks. There were always military eyes watching and the city's own scientists were there too. But then Sumner never really trusted the Elite, or perhaps anyone, in John's opinion.
Sumner seemed to especially resent the fact that the Elite warrior who accompanied the scientists each day was allowed to be armed. John had pointed out multiple times that the agreed single stunner and one knife was a significantly tiny amount of weaponry for an Elite to wear, and actually something of a sign of respect from the Elite. Sumner wasn't convinced though, and so John had to spend almost all his days accompanying the Elite, Skan.
He didn't mind really, since he'd spent plenty of time around Elite. Though Skan was a slightly unusual Elite, in that he was rather wiry rather than the male muscular variety that John was more familiar with from the Sythus. Of course he knew that Elite came in all shapes and sizes – though obviously his favourite was the Athosian petite warrior princess variety – it was just that Skan looked like he'd be more at home on an Australian beach. The Elite had a very golden skin tone and long shoulder length wavy blonde hair, which seemed to somehow always look windswept despite being indoors all day. John wondered if Skan used some sort of hair product to achieve the look of casual handsomeness while also keeping it out of his face. John hadn't asked though; he'd maybe ask Teyla when she was back.
Another fact that made Skan an unusual Elite was that he was clearly also a scientist, seeming to actually understand most of what the scientists reported to him and John each day. At least half of it was gobbledygook to John and the other half barely made sense. He'd usually just got the cliff notes from Rodney and Carson in the evenings.
Still, despite Skan looking more like a model surfer-dude, the guy was decent company. As long as you didn't say anything sarcastically; the guy did not get sarcasm. That ate at John a bit, but he'd managed to control the urge to make every sentence sarcastic around the Elite.
The second email was the usual daily update from Lieutenant Torres who was running a betting pool on which taskforce would be first to a working prototype. John had put his money on the defuser tech and he was pretty sure his money was safe.
He slid his gaze from the text of Torres' email to the date at the top. It was two weeks since he'd last seen Teyla, though it felt far longer. Despite his overactive imagination, the truth was that she'd only just be getting to the Alliance border. It meant that her mission was only just getting started, which was deeply depressing. Two weeks already felt more like a month apart, and he had no idea how long her mission would take. She could be away for months, maybe even half a year?
He'd used to worry about her going on missions to fight Wraith, something she could do with her eyes shut probably, but now she was actively hunting Skerti. A fact that always made him think of the horrific pictures of those slaughtered Salvagers the Alliance had found on an abandoned ship. Bodies all piled in a bloody mess, throats practically torn open, and Teyla was out there purposefully trying to find the monsters responsible.
Because that was what she did, and she was damn good at it.
Besides, those poor Salvagers had been civilians, not tough Elite warriors like Teyla and the others on the Sythus.
She'd be okay…
She had to be okay.
He'd reached the doorway off the corridor which led into the larger set of adjoining atriums. These held the more involved taskforces who were working on reverse-engineering the Goa'uld force-field tech and then, in the larger rooms beyond, the work on adapting and building Atlantis' own version of the Elite sensor platform satellites. These projects were slower going and very few people had picked them in the pool.
As John entered the first atrium, which had its own super-table ringed with laptops and notepads, but was dominated by the Goa'uld force-field generator sat in the middle. No one was in here, but John could already hear the two voices he had expected to find in the next atriums.
In the satellite designated area, a side area had been divided off as an 'office/lab' space for the two overseeing all the taskforces out here: Rodney and Zelenka. The only taskforce currently not under their oversight was Carson's Retrovirus work, which Carter had wisely based out on another pier. John knew from personal experience that the Retrovirus wasn't something you wanted getting loose. The rooms set aside for the Retrovirus research were far smaller than these lofty atriums, but they boasted an impressive array of medical and Elite loaned tech. However, John hadn't put any money on the Retrovirus in the betting pool; things were going slowly over there, but then no one had expected a quick solve. At least Carson was now back working full time, his arm fracture fully healed and his scars healed as much as they would ever likely to do. Being solely in charge of the Retrovirus work had given Carson a real focus and way back to work, seeming more than happy to leave Dr Keller in temporary charge of the Infirmary. John suspected that was due to more than just his focus on the Retrovirus, but, for now, it was really helping Carson and everyone else to have their best minds focused on the potential groundbreaking bio-weapon.
But right now, John's focus was on the two bickering voices ahead. They were always still here every evening, even on the one day off a week that the taskforces were supposed to be having a day off.
As he headed into the largest atrium, he glanced over everything, though not really expecting anything new compared to when he'd last been in here a few hours ago. There were two super-tables in here and, at the far end of the massive atrium, stacks of boxed up supplies, metal sheeting and various powered down computer banks all waiting for the satellite build to eventually start.
Angling to the right, John looked away from the rest of the empty room, to the 'office' of the brain trust. The office area was sectioned off by a hip high wall of stacked crates. They were all full of electronics that had been brought in from Earth, but, again, they weren't needed yet, so the crates were currently functioning as a temporary wall around the large lab table and desks that was Rodney and Radek's workspace.
"Evening," John declared as he strode between crates into their space, which he secretly referred to as the 'caffeine overdose division'.
"Good evening, Colonel," Zelenka replied cheerfully as he spun his office chair round, behind him there were six mounted computer screens all showing complicated looking graphs.
Rodney just made a grunt of a hello, his attention fixed down on a laptop that was sat on top of what appeared to be a box and two large thick textbooks. He guessed Rodney had wanted to stand while he read and hadn't wanted to crane his neck.
"You guys know it's late, right?" He asked. He had gotten into this habit of chasing them out most evenings, sometimes really late. Considering the fact that Rodney had a girlfriend, John had to wonder how these regular long working days factored in. Rodney was always one of the first in here in the mornings and was nearly always the last to leave. Presumably Katie Brown was a very understanding sort, but John had to wonder. It certainly wasn't healthy for Rodney, especially considering the real fact that these taskforces weren't going to yield any immediate results. They'd be at it for weeks, likely months more. These long working days were surely going to catch up with Rodney, and Zelenka, though Radek was far more sensible in starting his shift actually when he was expected to in the mornings. By that point Rodney had usually already been up and working for a couple of hours.
"We're just going over the latest test data from today," Zelenka supplied, definitely seeming cheerful.
"Anything new and exciting?" John asked hopefully as he picked what appeared to be a sturdy enough looking section of the stacked crates and used it as a high stool on which to perch.
"It is still very early days," Zelenka replied, which was his near-constant answer to that question.
"We're getting there," Rodney gave his contrasting answer.
"Really?" John asked hopefully. "Space guns?" He asked, more to tease Rodney.
"The other stuff is just as important, you know," Rodney looked round. "It's not all about space guns."
John grinned, pleased his teasing had gotten Rodney to actually look up from his laptop. "So that's a no?"
"The sticking point with them currently is the power cell the Elite use," Zelenka supplied as he leaned back in his chair and rubbed a hand across his forehead.
John waited for more.
"And?" He prompted.
"We don't have anything like it," Rodney frowned down to his laptop again. "We're trying to come up with an idea to use either Ancient or even Goa'uld power crystals, but it's not compatible on the small scale of the hand guns."
"Can't we just buy the power cells from the Elite?" John asked, though he recalled something about 'self-reliance' in the IOA's mandate on the work.
"They've given us two for the project," Zelenka replied. "But-"
"Earth doesn't want us reliant on Alliance supplies," Rodney interrupted him.
"It's a major stalling point," Zelenka frowned, his former cheerfulness evaporated.
"I thought we'd reverse engineered Ancient crystals?" John frowned.
"That's mostly control crystals, not power crystals; and certainly not as small as they'll need to be for the stunners," Rodney explained. "How's Carson's retrovirus going?"
John gave him a look. "It's not a competition, Rodney."
"I know, I'm just interested," Rodney said, looking offended.
John sent him a doubtful look. "Didn't seem like there was any progress today," he admitted.
Rodney nodded, his attention already slipping back down to his laptop.
"Anyway," John continued, "Colonel Carter sent me down here to remind you both that it's almost bedtime," he said smiling and both the scientists gave him a glare. "And also to tell you that Dr Jackson is finally at Midway. He'll be arriving here tomorrow at 13:00. We're to meet him in the Gate Room," he said pointedly to Rodney.
Rodney predictably pulled a face. "I don't see why I should be pulled from my duties to help him. I've got important, vital projects here to oversee." He gestured to the empty atrium behind John. "What we're doing here is for the betterment of the Human race."
"And finding Janus' secret hidden lab is one of the most vital projects right now," John reminded him.
"You're the one Janus appeared to," Rodney complained, not for the first time. "Why don't you help Dr Jackson?"
"You're the one who read all of Janus' logs," John pointed out.
"And we found nothing in them. Look we've scanned every millimetre of the city and found nothing, so I don't see how I can help any further."
"If we could simply scan the city to find it, it wouldn't be a secret lab, would it."
"Surely my time and expertise are better suited to staying in here-" Rodney protested.
John had heard all these arguments before, in several meetings, but still Rodney refused to accept his assignment with anything approaching grace.
"Look, Rodney, I agree with you," John interrupted him. "You're probably not going to be any help at all." He saw Zelenka glance round, amused at the tactic.
Rodney frowned. "What?"
"You're needed here," John continued. "Zelenka could help Jackson find the secret lab, right Radek?" He looked to Zelenka.
"Oh yes, of course, I'd be happy to help," Zelenka nodded.
"He'll get all the credit of course, finding a secret lab that even the Ancients themselves didn't know about."
Rodney narrowed his eyes.
"Then there'll be, hopefully, loads of Ancient knowledge hidden in there for Radek to research and publish papers on…"
"We don't get to publish papers," Rodney argued.
"His name will be recorded in the history books," John continued.
"Fine," Rodney blurted. "I'll help the archaeologist. Should I bring a trowel?"
John chuckled. "No, just your winning personality."
"Is the Elite surfer model going to be joining us too?" Rodney muttered.
"Skan is going to be involved, yes," John confirmed. "We've agreed that the Elite can have sight of anything Skerti related we may find in Janus' lab, but nothing else."
"Perhaps we may find something in Janus' research that will help us develop a small enough power cell for the energy weapons," Zelenka suggested optimistically.
Rodney made a murmuring sound of agreement as he looked at his watch with what looked like a pained wince.
"Got somewhere to be?" John asked.
"I was supposed to meet Katie for movie night," he frowned.
"They're showing 'Blade II' tonight," John pointed out. The films had all been running on the vampire theme still, so John had been avoiding them as he didn't need to feed his already overactive imagination on what Teyla could be facing. "Didn't think that would be Katie's kind of movie."
"What time did the movie start?" Rodney asked worriedly.
"Over an hour ago," John reluctantly had to tell him.
"Oh," Rodney winced.
"You go, Rodney," Zelenka cut in. "I'll finish up plotting the last results in with the rest. We can review it tomorrow morning."
"You're sure?" Rodney asked with surprising gratitude. "Only I missed the last date with Katie…"
John didn't point out that Rodney had pretty much missed tonight's date too.
"Go, Rodney. We're almost done here anyway," Zelenka waved him away.
John pushed off the crates. "I'll head up to the tower with you."
"Okay, don't run that last simulation on the shield generator without me," Rodney ordered Zelenka as he picked up his tablet and joined John at the 'exit' out of the office space. "Or mess around with the notes I've left on the laptop," Rodney added as he stopped and pointed to the laptop in question. "They're only ideas, nothing concrete yet."
John caught him by the closest elbow and helped him actually leave.
"And make sure you save those-"
"Yes, yes, Rodney!" Zelenka called back, which was then followed by some muttering in Czech that didn't translate. John always wondered how that could happen sometimes.
John kept Rodney moving forward by his elbow, heading towards the exit out of the atriums. Rodney was tapping on his tablet as they walked and John glanced down to see that Rodney was typing an email…probably to Katie.
As they reached the exit, he let go of Rodney's arm. "You know you don't need to work all hours of the day and night, Rodney," John pointed out to him gently. "The IOA know these projects are going to take time."
"I know that better than they do," Rodney replied as he continued typing.
As they stepped out into the corridor, Rodney kept walking forward, so John reached out and caught him by the elbow again, steering him away from the approaching wall and down the corridor instead. "My point is," John tried to find the right tone as he let go of Rodney, "you're gonna burn yourself out at this rate, both you and Zelenka."
"Well that's unlikely to happen now I'm assigned to Project Janus," Rodney tapped his tablet once more and lowered it; his email presumably sent.
John wasn't sure how much to push this, but he was honestly worried about his friend. Plus, he knew what it was like when your partner was away. He had to wonder how much more patience Katie Brown had for Rodney's choice of mad scientist lifestyle.
"The point I'm trying to make," John replied carefully, "is that there's more to life than just work, Rodney. If you keep missing dates with Katie…" he gave a one shoulder shrug.
"I'm not missing our date; I'm just really late for it."
"Yeah I'm sure that makes all the difference."
"We don't have to spend all our time together. Where exactly is your wife right now?" Rodney asked.
That was perhaps a fair point. "Out hunting vampire monsters," John conceded.
"Well fortunately we're not all married to Buffy the Vampire Slayer."
"I'm just saying," John pushed. "You don't need to be working so hard."
"Katie understands my work is important," Rodney sounded more sincere now. "We've talked about it."
"Oh, okay, good," John nodded.
"She's busy some days too," Rodney continued, not sounding quite as certain now. "I mean their mostly when she's doing these twelve hour experiments on some plants that do…something new with carbon dioxide…I didn't really pay attention."
John wasn't sure that was a good thing to admit, but he was pleased that the two of them were handling it.
"She asked me to join her for one nightshift in the botany lab," Rodney continued.
"I thought that room sets off your allergies?"
"Only the side room with all those flowers. I didn't go anyway; it was that first evening we were setting everything up in here."
John heard the worried edge in his friend's voice. "I'm sure Katie understood," he found himself suddenly arguing the other side of the discussion now.
"I was thinking about maybe taking her for a picnic out on a pier…where was that place you said was best in the city?"
"That big balcony spot atop the southwest pier."
"Right," Rodney nodded.
"I'm sure she'll love a nice romantic picnic," John added enthusiastically. "You could take a bottle of Athosian ruus wine, there's a whole case of them in storage."
"Good idea," Rodney agreed looking more cheerful now. "Maybe tonight, make up for being late for movie night."
John didn't point out that 'late for' was pretty much the same as 'missing' movie night. "I'm sure she'll love it."
"Get some time in before Jackson arrives and I get to put my name in the history books again."
"Maybe don't phrase it like that to her," John advised.
"Right, no," Rodney chuckled, smiling now and walking faster. John lengthened his strides to keep up. "I think the kitchen made more brownies today, she loves those."
John was pleased he had maybe helped a bit, but, as they stepped into the transporter, he couldn't help feeling a rush of jealous loneliness. He had no idea how long it would be until he could take Teyla on a romantic picnic in the city again.
He just hoped she was safe, wherever she was.
0000
TBC