Warning reminder: Includes violence and bad language.
Notes: So it turns out 13k words was clearly far too long for one chapter, so I've split it into two. The first part here now and I'll post the second part - aka Chapter 19 - in the next few days. So much to get done in this fic :)
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ACT 1 – DISCOVERY
Chapter 18 – Old Blood
She made it only halfway to the promised empty corner of the marketing hall before Scruffy Face emerged from the stalls on the right.
However, his choice of arrival told Seeal a great deal in the handful of seconds it took for him to step out and block her path, his eyes latching onto her with clear predatory intent.
But he hadn't chosen to rush out from a concealed small space between the stalls, using surprise and overwhelming violence to attack her. No, he'd walked out from between two stalls a good metre ahead of her and turned to face her, blocking her path with a high lifted chin and a calculated grin across his scruffy face. He held his shoulders back, his chest puffed out to look as big and strong as possible, and the thumb of one hand was hooked into his belt buckle. Masculine arrogance and dominance seethed out of every pore of him and his scuffed old jacket.
However, it was his right hand that caught most of her attention, his hand folded back and up into the end of his long jacket sleeve, clearly concealing a weapon. Possibly the knife she suspected he'd stolen from the stall back in the last aisle.
In the few seconds this all registered, she had also reached an important conclusion about Scruffy Face: he was going to be a Talker.
He'd delivered a rather theatrical arrival rather than just simply trying to kill or capture her, so clearly he wanted to savour the moment. He would want her to know who he was and why he was doing this before the violence started. That was good, she liked Talkers; without meaning to, they willingly let you draw out a conversation with them, allowing time to control the situation and/or for support to arrive.
That was going to be particularly important here as she estimated barely a minute had passed since she'd sent Amel away. It would take far more than that for Amel to make it out of just this back marketing hall let alone through the rest to find Security, so support was likely still a bit of time away, so she had only a couple of seconds to decide how to react to Scruffy's appearance ahead of her.
She went with ignorance, moving to the left as if she was simply going to walk around him, after all she didn't know who he was.
He reacted instantly, stepping to his right, blocking her path around him.
She pretended to react surprised, frowning at him in confusion as she made to move further to the left to get around him again, which brought them nicely across the aisle space and her closer to getting her back towards the last row of stalls against the marketing hall's back wall.
Scruffy Face took a further sidestep though, blocking her again, but this time he held up a warning hand. "I know who you are," he told her forcefully, annoyance clear in his voice, her tactic having thrown him.
She stepped back a pace, finally turning her back to the stall behind her, bringing the aisle that had been behind her before into her peripheral vision. A darkly dressed male some distance away was presumably Mr Indifference, Scruffy's backup, but she kept her eyes on Scruffy Face.
"I'm sorry I think you've confused me with someone else," she told him with innocent confusion.
He angled his head. "Really? The infamous Enforcer of Dreamstation?" He scoffed, mocking her tactic.
She frowned up at him as if still bewildered by him.
"An Enforcer who is supposed to be dead," he continued, "but here you are, buying pretty things on a Marketing Station in the Alliance," he uttered with a mix of disgusted confusion. "It makes me wonder what Security here would think if I pointed you out to them."
"I don't know who you are, or who you think I am…" she said as she lifted her hands slightly and Scruffy Face's eyes snapped to Amel's big bag in her hand.
"Put the bag down," he ordered her.
"I don't-"
"Put the fucking bag down now!" He ordered her, stepping threatening closer. "One hand only."
"Fine," she held up the bag, holding it out from her, transferring it from her right to her left hand in plain view for him to see. "Not sure how cushion covers and a blanket are dangerous to you, but okay." Though given the amount of sequins on Amel's new blanket, maybe that wasn't true.
She stepped back towards the stall directly behind her, glancing out the corner of her eye to see that it was piled high with big ceramic serving plates, apparently the theme at this end of this last aisle. She set the bag down slowly onto big plates on the stall, making sure the bag was still in easy reach. The plates looked too big and heavy to use quickly as a weapon, but she quickly memorised the location of the stacks behind her.
Beyond the stacked plates, a wide-eyed Trader was watching her and Scruffy Face. "You may want to leave quickly," she said quietly to him as she lowered the handles of Amel's bag, making sure they were lying in the best position for her to grab them quickly.
The bag down, she turned all her attention back on Scruffy Face.
There was some sudden indistinct shouting in the far distance and she saw Scruffy twitch, but he kept his eyes fixed on her.
Which was very wise of him.
"Do you know who I am?" He asked her.
"No," she replied honestly. "Who are you?"
The background noise was increasing, the sounds of a lot of people moving, but it was in the distance still, probably in the connecting marketing halls. She glanced quickly out the corner of her eyes off towards Mr Indifference down the aisle. He was a very long distance away and his full attention was directed off to the rest of the marketing hall, clearly worried about the sounds of nearing commotion.
"Look at me!" Scruffy Face ordered her angrily so she looked slowly back round to him.
"I was just seeing if I recognised him. I don't know either of you," she told him calmly.
"You knew my brother," Scruffy told her. His breathing had noticeably increased as he moved slightly closer, his eyes burrowing into hers. "Because you killed him."
Ah, this was a revenge thing.
She upgraded Scruffy's threat level.
"Who was your brother?" She asked.
"Zuka Sasturas," Scruffy Face stated angrily.
She'd not heard that name in a long time.
"Bounty Hunter?" She checked.
"Yes, and you killed him," Zuka's Brother repeated, pointing at her with his free left hand. His right hand was still tucked up in his sleeve as he edged another threatening step towards her.
He was keeping out of arm's reach still, which told her that he likely had as much experience as his brother in hand-to-hand. That he'd likely selected a knife as his weapon of choice also felt far more telling now.
"He killed two of my staff and was trying to murder Creass," she supplied him with some facts.
She wasn't about to forget the moment when she'd been urgently called up to a meeting room on Dream, the panicked call from her Security staff overlaid with someone screaming and the sounds of blaster fire in the background. She'd raced up there with reinforcements and walked into a blood-splattered scene, at the centre of which had been Creass locked into hand-to-hand combat with Zuka. People had always forgotten that Creass had been a deadly street-brute in his earlier years and you never forgot that kind of muscle memory. Still, Zuka had been younger and stronger, the point of his serrated-edged knife bare inches from Creass' throat as the two had wrestled with each other.
She'd ended it with two shots into Zuka's side, but that hadn't killed him quickly enough for Creass. Creass had used the last minutes of Zuka's life to get out of him who had put the bounty on his life and then Creass had plunged Zuka's own knife into the male's throat. Afterwards, Creass had responded instantly and violently towards the small criminal organisation who had thought they could dethrone him and take over Dream for themselves. It had been over within days and the episode had passed into bloody history.
Well, until today.
"He was doing his job," Zuka's Brother excused his brother's career of murdering for currency.
"And I was doing mine," she replied. "I protected my people."
Zuka's Brother leaned towards her, every muscle in his face tight and vibrating with hate. "I don't give a shit," he told her through his bared teeth.
Time slowed as everything began. She was aware of closer shouting now somewhere off to the distant right, but all her attention was fixed on Zuka's Brother as his right shoulder dipped as he pulled the weapon out of his sleeve, his left hand reaching forward to grab her.
She already had her hand on the handles of Amel's bag though and stepped to her left, swinging the big bag up and around at Zuka's Brother's head.
He reacted quickly though, diverting his left hand, formerly aiming for her, to block the impact of the bag as he pivoted to deflect most of the blow. The soft fabrics inside Amel's bag no doubt cushioned most of the impacts with his blocking hand and part of his right shoulder, but she heard at least one of the mugs inside the bag crack against him.
It didn't do much though, as he recovered shockingly quickly, turning to track her as she rapidly stepped backwards, the length of the aisle now ahead of her, both Zuka's Brother and the distant Mr Indifference now in view. She was vaguely aware that Mr Indifference was partly obscured by running civilians, that there was shouting and noises that could be weapons fire, but she had no time to spare for that.
Zuka's Brother's right arm struck out towards in her in a horizontal swing, the marketing hall's overhead lightening shining off the predicted stolen bright new dining knife in his hand.
She darted back enough to allow the blade to pass her, the back of his weapon-arm revealed and she rushed at him, Amel's big bag in both her hands as she shoved it hard against the back of his arm and up at his face. It broke his momentum, almost making him lose his footing, but he had good footwork and was clearly far stronger than her. So, shoving the bag still hard into him, she quickly brought her left knee sharply up into his exposed right side, then slammed her boot down along his closest shin and stamped down onto his foot.
He let out a raging shout of angry pain from behind Amel's bag and shoved back at her with all his might.
She had been ready for it though and had already let go of the bag and was stepping backwards away from him.
The distant shouting had grown a little clearer; the edge of professionalism was now noticeable in the loud shouts, which told her that Security was dealing with Mr Indifference.
However, Zuka's Brother was completely unfazed by all the noise and clear threat behind his back. He was so intent on her, his eyes full of murder and plain fury that she suspected next to nothing would stop him now.
Unfortunately, the blind hatred in his eyes above his flared nostrils wasn't slowing him down or making him lose his focus, for as he slashed the knife back towards her face, she saw him limit the strike, drawing the blade in and quickly back around towards her, not allowing her any opening to step in and attack his arm again. He was clearly as well trained in knife fighting as his brother had been.
And he was shockingly fast, forcing her to take rapid backwards steps to stay ahead of the reach of his long arm and insistent constant motion towards her.
She was aware she might be coming up quickly to the end of the aisle behind her, but she couldn't risk glancing away for even a second, each slash of the knife at different angles, differing heights to try to catch her out. Zuka's Brother, for all his earlier posturing, was now deadly focused.
And she was out of weapons or shields to keep him back.
Her footwork was all that was keeping her alive right now, as she dodged this and that way, constantly moving away from him, but looking for an opening. Waiting for him to tire out just enough to-
There was a sudden flash of movement from the left and abruptly Oneakka was there, impacting Zuka's Brother's right side and ramming the male across the aisle and into more plate stalls to the right. The sound of falling and breaking ceramic filled the air, almost as loud as the angry grunts as both males bounced off the stalls. Seeal saw Zuka's Brother try to push back at Oneakka against the back of his shoulder, twisting to face his new attacker as best he could.
There was a tiny bizarre moment as she saw Zuka's Brother see Oneakka's tattooed-face and she saw the shock register that he was being attacked by an Elite Warrior. Zuka's Brother had no further time to process that fact though, because Oneakka hand one hand on his jacket collar and the other on the knife-holding wrist and Oneakka smashed both back into the wooden frames of the stalls.
The knife clattered away and there was a shock-filled cry of pain from Zuka's Brother that was cut off as Oneakka physically lifted him and slammed him, back first, down onto a stall of plates with breath-crushing force.
It had been a shockingly dramatic display of strength on Oneakka's part and had clearly ended the fight. "Stay down," Oneakka commanded loudly and forcefully, his voice echoing in what Seeal now registered was a far quieter marketing hall.
Looking past Oneakka, she could see that Station Security was filling the aisle now, Mr Indifference on his knees within a circle of armed Security, his empty hands high over his head.
Confident the situation was all in control, she hurried towards Oneakka, seeing more Security heading this way to 'assist', not that Oneakka needed it.
As she reached the stall, she could see that Zuka's Brother's right wrist was broken and he was looking dazed, most likely concussed, where he lay among broken plates. Oneakka still had one hand gripping the front of the male's jacket, but it didn't look necessary; Zuka's Brother was out of the fight.
Aware she was breathing fast and adrenaline was still coursing through her system, she looked at Oneakka. For all his injuries and now prolonged rehab, clearly he had been correct that he was almost as strong as he'd ever been. Gone was the sullen sadness of before and the strong, confident, focused Elite Warrior was back.
All that was missing was his old body armour and it was like the last months of injury and recovery had never happened.
"Feel better for that?" She asked him.
Oneakka looked round, seeming surprised at the question, and then nodded with a small bemused smile.
She smiled back and patted him on his nearest shoulder, which was bunched up with muscle as he pressed Zuka's Brother down on the stall.
"See, I was right," she told Oneakka, "it's better to have a real live Elite Warrior with you rather than a simple brooch as protection."
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Rodney hadn't been exaggerating when he'd said there were hundreds of photos taken of the formerly flooded sections of Atlantis. Numerous photos had been taken of each location, from different angles and each with corresponding references. The thorough record was more akin to the records from an archaeological dig, which, Daniel realised, wasn't all that far from the truth.
The only problem was that the photos had been grouped only into the buildings, not the precise hallways, so they were having to check every individual photo taken in the corresponding building with the target dead-end hallway. Rodney was in charge of the button on the keyboard, clicking through the photos in a rhythmic, and clearly bored, manner, while Daniel was being the eyes of the operation. Part of him really wanted to study each photo in greater detail, fascinated at what the Ancients had left behind, but they didn't have the time. However, he mentally added the photos to the 'things he wanted to study' list while he was here.
Behind him and Rodney, Sam, Sheppard and Elite Warrior Skan where engaged in a quiet conversation about Dr Beckett's retrovirus research. Daniel wasn't all that clued into the details of the research, but he gathered that a stumbling block had been hit and the Elite were providing new Wraith cells for testing. From the little Daniel overheard while keeping most of his attention on the photos, Elite Skan had offered to bring a live captured Wraith to Atlantis, but Sam wasn't keen on the idea.
Daniel was entirely on her side of that argument.
To his left, Rodney let out a very bored sigh.
"You know I can do this by myself if you want a break," Daniel offered.
"No, no, I'm good," Rodney replied instantly as he triggered the next image on the screen.
This latest photo showed a long section of corridor, the floor obscured by a low layer of glistening floodwater. The next a second later, was much the same, this time with several large boxes or cabinets lying on their sides in the water. The historian in Daniel wanted to stop and ask if anything had been inside them, but he resisted the urge. He could find all of that out another day.
Two more corridors swimming in a few inches of water played across the screen.
The next photo was instantly recognisable. "There," Daniel said quickly, "that's the hallway. We've found the right photo," he added louder to the others across the room.
In the photo, the hallway was littered with various objects, some of them possibly washed in with the floodwater, but, in the middle-left, there were some small dark shapes on the floor.
"Can you zoom in there?" He asked Rodney, pointing to the area of the picture.
Sam slid into place on Daniel's right and he smiled briefly round at her and then back to the image.
Rodney had selected the area of the photo and it zoomed and enhanced on the screen to show three small oval shapes lying on the hallway floor.
"The sconces," Sheppard identified them from behind Daniel's left shoulder.
"They must have been knocked loose during the flood," Daniel grinned. This was feeling good. "You salvaged them right?" He glanced at Rodney.
"Of course," Rodney frowned.
"Where are they now?" Sheppard asked.
Rodney was already scrolling through the log linked to the photo, all the items found in that particular section of the hallway listed out. "They're in archival storage, catalogued under this reference," he pointed to the screen.
"Great." Daniel made a mental note of the displayed reference. "Where's archival storage?"
"It's in another building," Sam was the one to answer.
"Let's go," Daniel smiled.
"I've got a meeting with Woolsey in quarter-of-an-hour," Sam replied though, looking up from her watch. "Think you guys can handle it from here?"
"Leave it with us, Colonel," Sheppard assured her.
"Contact me if you need anything," Sam smiled, her hand briefly landing on Daniel's arm as she moved to leave first.
"Will do," Sheppard was the one to answer her.
Brilliant, time to go find the scones. Daniel turned from the hallway photo and suddenly found himself facing Elite Skan, who was looking at the computer screen, his gaze now shifting to Daniel. Daniel met the warrior man's gaze, sensing something behind the man's light blue eyes.
"Let's get going," Sheppard announced from halfway to the door, having followed Sam, Rodney hot on his heels.
Skan shifted to one side, opening space for Daniel, and the Elite Warrior gave him a small polite smile. It was the first such expression Daniel had seen from the man, but he took it as a good sign. Moving forward, Daniel headed for the door, Skan just behind his shoulder.
As Daniel turned into the corridor outside, Sheppard and Rodney walking together ahead, Skan fell into step with him as they followed.
"You did well to find the correct reference so quickly within so many thousands of Ancestor logs," Skan said, his tone conversational, but the comment was clearly full of subtext.
"That is if it pans out to be the correct location of the hidden lab," Daniel pointed out. "But Dr McKay and I put in a lot of hours over the last few days, reading as much as we could. Besides, I'd already started reading through Janus' logs before this."
"Why?" Skan asked.
"We've known for some time that Janus was something of a renegade scientist among his people, and I'd wondered how he managed to keep his unauthorised research and experimentation hidden from the other Ancients," Daniel replied honestly. It was a question that had particularly lingered in the back of his mind after he'd seen the lengths Merlin had taken to hide his own work.
He looked at Skan's beach-dude profile and watched the Elite nod, a more thoughtful frown across his tanned forehead.
"You said that you had 'ascended' to walk with the Ancestors?" Skan asked.
"Yes, twice," Daniel confirmed as they walked. He'd noticed that Skan was setting the pace they were walking, which was far slower than Sheppard and Rodney up ahead, who were now disappearing around a corner.
"Perhaps the Ancestor Janus told you where to find his hidden laboratory?"
"If he did, I don't remember," Daniel replied honestly. "I don't remember much from my time as an ascending being."
"But you do remember some of it?"
"Just little flashes occasionally. More like an intuitive sense sometimes, but nothing I can put into words."
"Do you have that feeling now regarding the location of the laboratory?" Skan asked.
"It's possible," Daniel considered. "But I really don't know. My whole career has been about solving puzzles, not just about the history on my own planet, but on others. Over the last decade I've done a lot of research and following the trails of the Ancients in our galaxy, so I think I've kind of built up some experience in understanding how they thought. How one of them might have gone about hiding a lab like this." Even more so after he'd housed Merlin's consciousness.
Or maybe Skan was right, maybe some of this was leaking out ascended knowledge?
They'd turned the corner now to find Sheppard and Rodney waiting for them inside the open door of the transporter. Daniel waved Skan in ahead of him, stepping in last and turning in place moments before there was the usual sense of a flash of light and the doors opened in front of him to reveal a brand new corridor. Stepping out, Daniel noticed instantly that the architecture was a little different here, an entirely new building in the city. The paintwork seemed lighter and the hallway a little wider.
"We need to go along this hallway and take the stairs down to the floor below," Rodney reported as he started past Daniel, Sheppard following him. Daniel held back though, waiting to be able walk with Skan again, as he kind of got the feeling that the Elite warrior had some more questions.
It took only a couple of paces before Skan spoke.
"Are the names Hastos and Sythus familiar to you?" He asked.
"Only from Colonel Sheppard's reports," Daniel replied. "They were the first Elite Warriors?"
"Yes," Skan confirmed. "And it is said that they had transformed themselves to walk with the Ancestors, but, upon seeing the destruction by the Wraith, they returned to mortal form to lead the fight."
"I know the feeling," Daniel chuckled softly.
"You do?" Skan asked, looking round as they walked at their slower pace again.
"The reason why I returned from being ascended was because I was 'too attached' still to helping people on this plane of existence," Daniel explained.
"But you don't remember being an ascended being," Skan pointed out. "So how can you be sure that was the reason you returned?"
Daniel had to smile. "I know that much, and the only reason why I ascended the first time was because I was dying and a friend gave me the chance."
"A friend?" Skan asked in surprise. "You mean a friend who was an Ancestor?"
"Yes, she was." Daniel nodded sadly. It hadn't always felt that way with Oma, but it was no less the truth. She'd always been honest with him within the limitations put on her, had helped Shifu, and saved Daniel more than once, and his heart still hurt to think of her after all these years. She was yet another Ancient who had made the ultimate sacrifice, not in ending her life, but in sacrificing the rest of her existence to an eternal battle to protect so many lives.
A bend in the hallway led to a metal staircase, Sheppard and Rodney already making their way down it. Again, Daniel indicated for Skan to go ahead of him, and they started down the stairs.
Skan said nothing as they headed down to the next floor, but Daniel took the time to take in the warrior's clothing. He was wearing golden brown moulded body-armour that covered his shoulders, chest, and torso, ending in long thick fabric flaps at the front of his waist. Under the armour today he was wearing a red short-sleeved shirt and then dark brown pants, at the waist of which he wore a large bulky holster. In keeping with the agreement with Atlantis, the holster held only one gun, the other pockets and pouches on the holster noticeably empty. Everything about the man looked utilitarian and well used, but also clearly well kept. The empty pouches and slots on the back of his holster, presumably usually holding knives and other weapons, all showed creases of long wear, but were shiny as if the holster was regularly oiled.
It all matched exactly as Colonel Sheppard's reports had detailed: that the Elite were a focused fighting force, each of them dressing differently, but all highly professional.
Though, to Daniel's eye, Skan was dressed rather like a Roman soldier. The energy weapon on his hip being the obvious exception to that of course.
They'd reached the next floor down, Sheppard waiting up ahead, Rodney next to him chattering. As Daniel reached the floor, he exchanged a nod with Sheppard, confirming all was well, and Sheppard and Rodney started forward again.
Falling back into step with Skan, Daniel remained silent, waiting again for Skan to ask what he wanted. He wondered how much of the Ancients' history and philosophies were known here in Pegasus, after all most of what they'd learnt back home had been, well, mostly through SG1's missions.
"It is an admirable achievement," Skan stated finally, "that you did the same as both Hastos and Sythus: to return to the fight rather than dispassionately watching without concern."
The start of the comment had been a huge compliment, but the rest had turned into resentful judgement of the Ancients. Daniel recalled Sheppard had mentioned that most Elite had a very low opinion of the Ancients, and Daniel could understand given how the Ancients had fled to another galaxy, leaving everyone here to the fate of the Wraith.
"I understand that the Elite don't look favourably on the Ancestors, unlike some in your galaxy?" He asked carefully.
"We do not," Skan confirmed, his eyes directed forwards. "We believe in following the way proven by both Hastos and Sythus. That we have to look after our own kind rather than send empty wishes up to the Ancestors who abandoned us all to the Wraith long ago."
Yes, definitely resentment, and also anger.
Again, Daniel could relate a little too well.
"I can understand that," he offered, but felt he had to add something more. "But there are some among their number who do want to help, who have intervened before."
"In your galaxy perhaps, but not here," Skan argued.
"Janus is helping us now," Daniel pointed out carefully.
"One Ancestor," Skan conceded, his blue eyes turning to Daniel again, "who by your own admission was a renegade among their number. And he appeared to Colonel Sheppard, someone from another galaxy."
Those were fair points, but still Daniel felt he had to share more of what he knew.
"As much as both of us disagree with many of the Ancients' choices," Daniel began, "they do have a strong ethical foundation to what they do. They believe that every life has free will and that they must not interfere in the natural evolution of people's lives and their choice; it's a law that each of them is bound to follow or risk severe punishment. To them, interfering in any way on this plane of existence is almost akin to a form of violence, of imposing their will and power on others. I may not agree with the extreme level of non-interference they follow, but, at the same time, in our galaxy we've seen the damage that kind of unchecked power can cause. So as much as I've raged at the Ancients for their cowardice at times, I still…understand…why they have the rules they do."
Skan stopped and turned towards Daniel. "Then how is it that the Ancestor Janus is helping us now?" He asked with a confused frown.
"I don't know exactly," Daniel admitted, facing Skan. "But he apparently told Colonel Sheppard that we'd have found the lab eventually, so maybe that was a loophole he used. That we'll just find it a little sooner than we would have…?"
Skan's frown deepened. "It still seems like interference to me, given your description of their views and laws."
"I agree," Daniel conceded. "Unless maybe there's something about the Skerti that means the Ancients are allowing him to help us?" He shrugged, unsure himself.
Skan seemed to consider that and then gave his own small shrug and then a smile. "If it turns out this will be beneficial to us, then I am all for some interference."
Daniel grinned, surprised at the man's smile.
Skan turned and they started forward again, and Daniel got the impression that the guy was more relaxed with him now. Given Sheppard's reports about the Elite culture, that felt especially complimentary.
Such an interesting culture the Elite had too.
"I've read all of Colonel Sheppard's reports," Daniel said as they walked. "It's amazing what the Elite and the Alliance have achieved in this galaxy. From what I can understand, the Wraith have been oppressing technological advancement for a long time here," which Skan confirmed with a nod, "but by working together, fighting back, you've unified a vast area of your galaxy. There's been nothing like that in our home galaxy."
"It has taken a long time and many lives sacrificed," Skan replied, "and no assistance from the Ancestors to do it."
Which was presumably true.
"I'd love to visit the Alliance while I'm here," Daniel added.
"There are several experts on the Ancestors who work for the Elite who have already expressed their interest in meeting you," Skan replied, surprising Daniel.
"Really?"
"Yes. I told them of your history with the Ancestors and, it is safe to say, you are welcome to visit anytime," Skan looked round with another smile. "And for you to meet some who are almost as experienced as you in solving the puzzles of the Ancestors."
Now that sounded very interesting. Daniel looked round at the Elite, the man chuckling faintly, clearly having purposefully piqued his interest.
"I look forward to it," Daniel replied instantly.
"We're here," Sheppard called from a couple of metres ahead. "Archival Storage," he pointed to an open door to the right, Rodney already inside.
Archival Storage turned out to be several interlinked rooms all packed full of metal shelving units, filling the rooms to capacity. Each shelf was packed with various boxes, cases, crates and even some large fabric bags. Each container had a catalogue number, but instantly Daniel could see that the numbers didn't run in order. The shelves looked stacked more like a patchwork jigsaw puzzle, clearly the size and shape of the box or case having been more relevant as to which shelf it was stored on.
"In theory," Rodney reported as he led them through to an adjoining room, "the case we're looking for is either in this room or the next one at the far end there."
Splitting up, Daniel took the aisle immediately to the left, Skan now keeping Sheppard company down the next aisle, and Rodney headed off to the right.
Daniel itched to open every single box and crate to study what was inside, but he forced himself to stick to just checking the labels for the right catalogue number. Working his way down the aisle, he noticed that every storage container was repurposed from something else. Some of them had old labels on them crossed through, several boxes having once contacted field rations and toilet paper.
To reach the high top shelf, there was a handy stool to use, its surface coated in dusty boot-prints from its previous use in here. However, it was very clear to Daniel that the stool was actually a piece of Ancient furniture, and it felt rather sacrilegious to his archaeological sensibilities to stand on the ancient artefact. Still, it held strong under his weight as he checked all the varied sized boxes and big military-style crates on this first section of top shelf, vaguely listening to Sheppard in the next aisle explaining to Skan about the early flooding in the city.
The section of top shelf didn't hold the right case, so Daniel stepped down, peering through a small gap as he did through to the next aisle where he could see Skan following Sheppard, listening very closely, his respect for the Colonel very obvious. It was pretty clear to Daniel, as he was sure Sam and the others were aware, that Skan wasn't just here to assist in this search and the sharing of technology. He was learning about them, and now also about the Ancients. He was doing what Daniel himself had done countless times: Skan was seeking to understand them and Earth culture.
It felt a little odd actually to be on the receiving end of being researched, though, he mused as he ran his eyes over cases and boxes, any communication always went both ways. How many cultures back home had learnt about Earth through just him and the SG teams?
"I've got them," Rodney's voice abruptly called from somewhere toward the back of the room.
Daniel quickly hurried down the rest of his aisle, darting round the ends of the shelving units to find an open doorway through to a smaller equally crammed room. Rodney stood inside with an opened case balanced on the edge of a metal shelf. Moving up close, Sheppard and Skan arriving as well, Daniel peered in to see the three promised wall sconces, sat securely surrounded by foam.
Fantastic.
"Let's get them down to the hallway," Sheppard stated excitedly before Daniel could.
0000
TBC