Note: Wishing all those who celebrate Christmas a very merry Christmas Day, and here's to a hopefully far brighter 2023.
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ACT 2 – TRUTH
Chapter 32 – Bad News
John glanced at his watch as he wandered into the Mess Hall. He'd made excellent time with his rounds this morning, had arrived early to a meeting with Woolsey and the Colonels after lunch, and was now ahead of his predicted time to go check on the Janus Lab team. But first, he was here to pick up some donuts for the somewhat dejected team.
Somewhere in the last couple of days, taking a box of donuts for Rodney's team had become something of routine. All the extra cakes, pies, donuts, and various other sweet treats available had started because the kitchen needed to use up an excess of flour following a rather major error in an order from Athos, but it had actually been well timed with all the extra Elite sent teams being here six days a week. The daily box of donuts also had the added benefit of being a way to try to cheer up Rodney following his breakup with Katie Brown, and though Rodney referred to the deliveries as the "pity box" that hadn't stopped him eating plenty of the donuts, which John took as a good sign.
Though, it was clear that the rest of the team in Janus' Lab had gotten used to the sweet treat deliveries too. Yesterday, after he'd offered the first donuts to Rodney then Jackson, John had turned to put the box down on the usual nearest table, only to find a crowd already forming, all ready and waiting to dive into the box the second he put it down. And that had included Skan and his Ancient expert the 'wee-woman', Tem-we-ya, the two clearly having developed a taste for donuts.
Heading across the quiet afternoon Mess Hall, John headed for the side door that led through to the attached kitchens. Though the open door, he could see one of the chefs stood close by, intensely focused on smoothing liquid chocolate over a large chocolate cake, which was clearly another product of the 'use-up-all-the-flour' project. It was a damn good thing everyone here was in good shape and kept active or everyone would be putting on some serious weight in the city.
"Hey, Rogers," John called to the chef as he arrived at the doorway, the glorious smell of freshly baked bread hovering in the air.
"Good afternoon, Colonel," the chef smiled, letting go of the turning cake table to reach down to presumably wipe his hands. He was a very familiar face in the city, having been part of the original expedition group. At one point, he had been one of only three trained chefs working in here, struggling to figure out how to use Pegasus galaxy ingredients before the days of supply runs from Earth had started.
"Any chance you have any-" John started to ask, but it turned out Rogers had been reaching down to a shelf near him and a large cardboard box was already being held out towards John.
"Already got them ready for you, Colonel," Rogers smiled proudly. "We put some extra jam-filled ones in as we know you like them."
John took the box. "Um, great, thanks."
How many days had he been picking up donuts from here now that the chefs had them ready to go for him?
"No problem, Colonel," Rogers replied cheerfully as he returned his attention to the cake. "If you want any more, just shout, we've got a sack of flour we want to finish up today to get the excess down."
"Sure, right," John nodded as he turned to move away. Only…. He turned back to Rogers. "Just to be clear, these are for the guys working down in Janus' Lab. They're not all for me."
Rogers looked up and nodded. "Of course, Sir."
He'd sounded mostly professional and polite, but there was a sparkle in his eyes that suggested he either didn't believe John or was finding the point funny. It was a combination of look and tone that John knew all too well, having used it himself plenty of times when dealing with superiors.
John narrowed his eyes suspiciously at Rogers, letting him know he'd not missed any of it. "Okay," he uttered. "Maybe I'll take them some cakes tomorrow."
"Chocolate okay, Sir?" Rogers asked, decidedly keeping his innocent expression in place.
"As long as there's no lemon in there anywhere," John added.
"Wouldn't think of it, Colonel," Rogers frowned. "We need Dr McKay alive and kicking to break into Janus' intel."
"Great, thanks," John turned to leave.
"So, no donuts at all tomorrow, Colonel?" Rogers asked, barely keeping the innocence in his voice this time.
John turned back to him. "Not for us, but other people might want some."
"Understood," Rogers replied as he started his cake wheel turning again. "No donuts for you tomorrow."
John gave Rogers a good glare, but the chef was studiously focused on the chocolate cake.
"I've got my eye on you, Chef," John told him, playing along.
"Yes, Sir," Rogers grinned as he smoothed shiny chocolate over the cake. Damn, it looked really good.
John turned away before he started drooling, and headed back across the Mess Hall.
Once he was back out in the hallway, and down the corridor enough not to be seen from the Mess, he stopped and opened the lid of the bulging box of donuts. There did seem to be even more than usual stuffed into the box today and, as promised, a significant proportion of them were of the sugar-coated jam-filled variety. Quickly checking back over his shoulder towards the Mess, John picked one out and shut the box. Taking a big bite of the treat, he started forward again back towards the nearest transporter.
The donut tasted amazing; whatever the Athosian fruit was they were using as the jam filling, he was really developing a taste for it. He was pretty sure they were the red large strawberry crossed with a pear looking things he'd seen in the trade deliveries in from Athos, but he couldn't quite remember the name of them. He'd have to remember to ask Teyla when she got back.
He'd actually starting writing out a list of things he wanted to tell her about or ask her; it was helping him feel a bit more positive that she would make it home okay. And if he couldn't sleep thinking about her, he'd add something new to the list. The list had gotten pretty long quite quickly actually. Though having started an evening run as well as his usual morning run had helped too. Helped tire him out to fall asleep faster most nights.
That or he was just getting used to trying not to worry about her…that it was becoming 'normal'…which really sucked.
Having reached the transporter, he headed into the empty small space as he took another big bite of the donut. Extending one lone finger out from around the donut, he jabbed the transporters' screen for the section of the city closest to Janus' Lab. The usual flash and faint buzzing sensation of the transport passed through him and the doors opened, revealing the now very familiar hallways of this part of the city. As usual, the dank smell drifted in the air, though it was starting to seem less overpowering. That was possibly due to the fact that far more people were now walking these hallways to and from Janus' Lab helping circulate the air, or he was just getting used to the smell.
As with each time he walked to Janus' Lab, he felt the anxious hope rising in him. Hope that at any moment now news would arrive that Rodney, Jackson, or anyone else in their team had finally cracked enough Janus code to find the promised Skerti intel. That they'd finally find something useful, something that would help…maybe even something significant enough that the Elite might contact Teyla and the Sythus. That he'd finally find out if she was okay.
He'd finished the donut by the time he followed the last arrow stuck on a wall and headed down the 'dead-end' corridor that led to Janus' magic door. Though John paused outside the door for a moment to brush some fallen sugar off the front of his uniform and wiped his mouth, making sure he was presentable. That taken care of, he made sure to triple check that the tone generator was still keeping the magic door from crushing him to death, and stepped through it into the lab.
As usual, he arrived into the studious focused atmosphere of the various teams sat and stood around the lab. It wasn't as quiet as a library, as there was plenty of discussions going on, but it still had the quiet brainy vibe to it in here.
Everything looked the same, which confirmed that there had been no last minute breakthroughs into the database while John had been on the way here.
"Afternoon," John called cheerfully as he ignored his disappointment, and headed towards where Rodney and Jackson were in their usual seats.
Various people around the lab replied with automatic 'afternoon' responses, well, except for Rodney, who was leaning so close to his laptop that John had to wonder if his eyesight was going. Though, considering the sheer number of hours he and Jackson in particular had been putting into this puzzle-fest perhaps that was actually the case.
"Hey Buddy," John smiled as he arrived next to Rodney. "I brought donuts."
"Don't you have anything better to do than play donut fairy?" Rodney muttered back as he typed on his keyboard, which was actually a very positive immediate response for today; better than the sullen occasional muttering of yesterday.
"Is that a 'no' to the donuts?" John asked as he glanced towards Jackson, who was turning in his seat and peering at the box as John opened the lid.
"I'll take a jam-filled one," Jackson said eagerly as he reached in for one.
"They put in extra jam-filled ones today because they know they're everyone's favourites," John lied slightly as he met Jackson's gaze and then angled his head towards Rodney with a questioning look.
Jackson gave a head waggle with a half frown, which John decided to mean that it was a so-so day for Rodney, so he nodded back.
"They've got some of the ones with sprinkles," John held the open box closer to Rodney's laptop.
Rodney's head shifted as he peered into the box. "Where?"
"I saw some down there in the bottom layer in the front right corner," John pointed down into the stuffed box.
"…pity box," Rodney muttered as he turned back to his laptop with a partly squashed sprinkle-covered ring donut in his hand.
Pleased he'd easily tempted Rodney into his first donut of the day, John shifted his attention up to the Ancient screen above Jackson's console. "How goes the data heist?"
"We've broken through a whole series of riddles and decryptions in the last," Jackson began only to pause and look at his watch, "six hours?" He seemed confused by the answer.
"That's good news…?" John prompted.
"We've just found more layers of puzzles," Rodney replied.
"That Janus was one paranoid Ancient," John muttered. "But you've gotta be getting somewhere though, right? Closer to the heart of the Janus vault?"
"Hopefully," Jackson replied with a slightly worn optimistic smile.
"Maybe this is just some sort of Ancient trick," Rodney muttered. "Designed to drive us insane trying to hack into his database." So yesterday's sullenness had become grumpiness today it seemed. "Maybe it leads nowhere."
John slid his gaze to Jackson, who met his eyes with a look that suggested he'd heard something similar from Rodney already today. Perhaps repeatedly.
"I doubt Janus sent us here only to mess with our heads, Rodney," John pointed out logically. "Who knows, maybe it'll be the next riddle you crack that will save the day."
"Mmm," Rodney murmured grumpily as he jabbed at his laptop.
Jackson had finished his donut, so was picking up one of the many books he had balanced on any vaguely available flat surface around him. "I still think I've almost cracked this latest one."
"You've been saying that for over a day now," Rodney countered.
"I think the fact this is clearly three grouped together riddles is interesting," Jackson replied. "I've not seen that anywhere else so far."
"You're just fixated on them because they're not maths or physics puzzles," Rodney grumbled.
Jackson set a large open book on his lap, resting the back of it against the edge of the Ancient console and looked over his shoulder to John with a pained look. John reached out and patted the guy's shoulder and glanced round, noticing that several of the rest of the team were watching him, clearly waiting for the chance to get to the donuts.
Grinning at the eagerness, John took a long step towards the usual table and set the box down, several of the scientists already getting up eagerly. Honestly, this kept going and there was going to be an outbreak of diabetes in the city.
Musing at the internal joke, John headed back towards Rodney.
"…but I think I've narrowed down which part of the mythology to look at," Jackson was saying.
"Sure," Rodney replied absently, only to look round to John. "This donut tastes weird, what are the white bits?" He held up the half eaten donut.
John peered down. "I think it's those white fruits with the red tassels from the planet with the singing lions."
"Ooo, I like those," Rodney took a far more eager bite of the donut.
"The fruit or the singing lions?" John baited him.
"They're not lions," Rodney replied around his full mouth. "We've not found any feline species at all in this galaxy so far."
"They sure look like lions," John countered. "If they're not feline then what are they?"
"I don't know, I'm not a zenobiologist," Rodney shrugged.
"I'll ask one of them then," John decided.
"They're not lions."
"They had whiskers, big noses and little ears," John demonstrated the characteristics while Rodney frowned at him. This was much better, yesterday Rodney had barely looked up from his work.
"Yeah, so did my Great Uncle Bert, but no one would describe him as a lion," Rodney replied.
That was much better.
John grinned at him. "See there you go, talking with people again."
"If you consider you 'people'," Rodney replied as he looked back to his laptop. "I was talking plenty at dinner in the Mess Hall." That wasn't what John remembered. He remembered him and Carson carrying all the conversation. "Was there something you wanted?" Rodney looked back round. Yep, he was definitely on the tetchy scale today.
"I brought donuts," John protested.
"You brought pity."
"I check in here several times a day; not everything is about you McKay. Though I was going to ask if you wanted to have another beer later," John offered. "Maybe go sit out on a pier, the weather-"
"Colonel Sheppard, this is Carter," Carter's voice called abruptly into John's ear.
He straightened and tapped his radio awake. "Sheppard here."
"I need you and Elite Skan up here in the Control Room urgently," she ordered.
"On our way, Colonel," John confirmed as he tapped his radio closed. "Honoured Elite?" he called, looking round the lab to locate the warrior.
The beach-blonde Elite looked round from a huddle by one of the other consoles, an iced donut in his hand.
"We're needed urgently up in the Control Room," John gestured off to the magic door. Skan nodded firmly and strode across the Lab towards the door.
John turned back to Rodney and Jackson.
"What's going on?" Rodney asked worriedly.
"No idea. Keep working," John told them and turned to follow Skan, who was already disappearing through the magic door.
John hurried across the lab and through the door, hot on the Elite's heels. Outside in the hallway, Skan was waiting to one side, finishing off his donut. As John stepped through, Skan started forward.
John lengthened his strides to catch up, more than used to keeping up with 'Elite speed walking'. Despite her petite height, Teyla could move at some serious speed.
The brief thought of her again brought sudden new worries; if Carter wanted Skan upstairs too, then it meant news from the Alliance. Were they finally sharing an update on her mission? Was it good news? Bad news?
He stressed over various possible explanation as, now easily keeping pace with Skan, they made shockingly good time through the hallways, into the transporter, and then all but raced up the stairs and down a corridor towards the Gate Room. From down the length of the final corridor, John could already see the shimmering light at the far end which meant the Gate was active.
As he and Skan entered the large room, John scanned the space; no one appeared to have come through the Gate and no one was preparing to leave. He switched his attention quickly up towards the limited view up into the Control Room as he and Skan hurried, two steps at a time, up the wide Ancient staircase.
Nearing the top, John could now see that Carter was stood in front of the big tv screen that they used to communicate through the Gate. Woolsey was at her side, both of them clearly talking with someone on the screen that John couldn't see yet. At the top of the stairs, John lengthened his stride just enough to get to the entrance of the Control Room ahead of Skan.
As then entered, both Carter and Woolsey looked round, finally revealing who was on the screen. It was Torren.
John felt a renewed flush of chilled panic. Was it about Teyla?
"Honoured Elite," Carter turned towards Skan as they approached her and Woolsey. "There has been a breach of the Alliance's border."
John snapped his attention away from Torren's ambiguously professionally polite expression on the screen. A territory breach? "As in Wraith or Skerti?"
"As in both," Carter was the one to reply as they all gathered in front of Torren's face and shoulders on the big screen.
Okay, territory breach probably, hopefully, didn't have anything to do with Teyla's mission…
"Honoured Elite," Torren bowed his head.
"Leader Torren," Skan replied.
"I have been asked to contact you as the Portal at the Elite Training Facility is occupied with the urgent matter and all main Military lines through the Links network are being used," Torren explained.
"Understood," Skan nodded. "What has happened?"
"I do not have all the details, but it seems that a Skerti ship appeared near the large marketing station owned by Trader Saoka, apparently while in the midst of a battle with the Wraith."
John looked past Skan to where Carter glanced back at him. Skerti vs. Wraith was big news.
"Are both attacking the station?" Skan asked.
"The Elite asked me to tell you that the Fall Protocol was enacted and Wraith Fighters are the only current threat, but Military support is still at least several hours away."
Skan shifted his weight as he drew out his small Alliance pad from a pocket and tapped on it. John leaned his weight onto his left leg as he attempted to subtly peer at the screen, only to remember that he couldn't read Alliance languages and Skan certainly didn't have his Earth translation programme working. Though there was a helpful looking diagram that could be a space station…
"I have details of the Fall Protocol," Skan replied, looking up from the screen.
"Can we help?" John offered without anyone's permission, though he was pretty sure Carter would already have offered it.
Skan glanced at him. "It would likely take many days to reach that location by hyperspace from here, and there are very few local Portals, all considerable distance. There is nothing to do but wait for news," he frowned faintly towards Torren.
"That was the Honoured Elites' advice to you," Torren nodded. "The situation is ongoing and will likely be for many hours to come. They suggest that you use an alternative Portal to return when you and your team finish in Atlantis for the day. Though they cannot confirm if the Facility Portal will be available for your personal return to the Facility at that time."
"Your people are welcome to remain here overnight, Honoured Elite," Carter offered.
"Thank you," Skan replied, "but most of them should be able to return to their homes via other Portals. However, I may remain here if the situation is still ongoing at the Facility."
"You're more than welcome," Carter confirmed.
"I'll make sure to contact you if we hear anything further, Honoured Elite," Torren added.
"Thank you, Leader Torren," Skan nodded as he turned to Carter. "I should inform my teams in case any have relatives who work on the station in question."
"Of course," Carter nodded. "Captain Tucker?" She called over to an Airman stood to one side. "Would you accompany Honoured Elite Skan to the research rooms while Colonel Sheppard remains here?"
John kept in his reaction at that. He would normally be the one to accompany Skan, but clearly there was more to talk about here. If anything was about Teyla, surely Skan would also be told, being an Elite himself…
"Yes, Ma'am," Tucker replied instantly.
John exchanged a quick nod with Skan before the guy left, and then John turned quickly back to Torren, who now smiled more naturally.
John felt himself relax. Torren's smile surely meant there wasn't any bad news about Teyla.
"Honoured Son," Torren nodded.
"Honoured Father," he repeated his side of the ritual greeting.
"Do you have any of your people on the attacked station?" Carter asked Torren.
"Several hundred from initial reports," Torren replied with a worried frown. "Due to the particular circumstances of the situation, I fear it will be quite some time before we find out who has survived."
"I know we are far away," Carter told him, "But if there is anything we can do to help, like medical support sent to Athos..."
"Thank you, Colonel," Torren smiled. "If there is, I assure you I will ask. However, I do need to cancel my appointment with you today, Mr Woolsey," Torren's gaze moved to the other side of the screen.
"Of course," Woolsey replied instantly.
"Though, I thought I would take the opportunity now to share some perhaps pertinent information I have heard recently," Torren said with a clearly pointed look. "Rumours, if you will."
"We understand," Carter replied.
Yeah, John didn't do politics - well, outside of the fact that he had kind of become a political figure without meaning to, but otherwise it wasn't his thing - still, it was pretty clear that 'rumours' meant intelligence gathering. He wasn't sure why, but he found the idea of Athosians being spies as odd; they seemed too up front and earnest for that.
"Rumours are that certain anti-Atlantis propaganda has been spreading among some trading routes," Torren continued, "all of which have direct links to the Genii Confederation and with whom Athos cut ties after Kolya's capture of you, Honoured Son."
"What are they saying?" John frowned. He should have known Kolya had been way too quiet in his life of late. But then when the Elite threatened you to keep away from Atlantis' people, even Kolya surely had to listen.
"Most of it is the usual kind," Torren frowned, "That the Ancestral City belongs to those in this galaxy and that it is full of dangerous technology that could be turned on the Alliance. But there is also a new element about how Atlantis is apparently poisoning the Military and especially the Elite."
"The Elite?" Carter asked. "It was my understanding that they are very much kept apart from politics and seen as the heroes they are."
"Yes, but with my Honoured Daughter's marriage and the deepening connections between the Alliance and yourselves, it seems the Genii are using that to their advantage."
"To what end, Torren?" Woolsey put in.
Torren shifted his gaze towards Woolsey. "The Genii homeworld is going through something of a revival with Supreme Leader Kolya having made very popular reforms, dialling back almost all of Cowen's former destructive regime."
"Much of which Kolya was part of," John complained.
"Indeed, but Supreme Leader Kolya is doing everything he can to separate himself from Cowen. He is very literally cleaning up the streets of the homeworld. He is pumping currency into building works, new roads, repairs, elaborate public holidays with mass celebrations and carnivals. Criminal activity on the homeworld has apparently dropped by a shocking percentage and he appears very much beloved by his subjects. However, it seems that things are not so good elsewhere in the Confederation. They have lost Athos and many others as trading partners, as well as other non-trading connections that were severed with the Confederation in response to the revelation of Kolya's capture of you, Honoured Son, and the very conveniently timed death of Cowen. As a result, the Confederation has lost a lot of currency, so they are busy trying to build more trading routes with those who have taken their side, or with those at least who see Supreme Leader Kolya as an opportunity to take advantage of for the time being."
"All those carnivals and new roads must cost a lot too," John considered.
"Exactly, and Kolya has not held back from using all the currency he has available to him, which includes taking more from the Confederation planets, which is apparently causing quiet discontent."
"So he needs a new enemy to push all the blame onto," Woolsey summarised.
"Yes," Torren nodded. "At first, it was initially directed towards Athos and the others who cut trading ties, but that backfired somewhat. Our strong historical trading ties have weight in the Alliance, as does the fact that we are closely linked to the Elite not only due to my Honoured Daughter, but there is a high percentage of Athosian origin Elite Warriors."
"So we've become the scapegoat," John concluded.
Torren frowned though. "An escaped goat?"
"It means we're the ones they're blaming for everything," Carter explained and Torren nodded with a smile. John hadn't missed the fact that his Father-in-Law seemed to like "Earth phrases", so he suspected Torren would start using 'scapegoat' now.
"It makes sense on Kolya's part," Woolsey said as he took off his glasses and started cleaning a lens with a cloth out of his suit pocket. "It's an old technique: blame the outsider, the unknown."
"And the threat," Torren nodded. "Because support for closer ties with Atlantis has grown considerably and with the Elite having threatened Kolya personally, he has likely taken direct umbrage."
"But talking against the Elite…?" John asked Torren. "That seems new and risky?"
Torren looked at him. "Yes, very, which is why it's being done in the form of little whispers and subtle propaganda along trading routes. Kolya would never risk saying such things out loud."
"What would you suggest we do, Torren?" Woolsey asked as he slid his cleaned glasses back on.
"To continue as you are: building trading contacts, meeting Alliance peoples in person. I also think there may be particular peoples that you could interact with more, such as the Pelydrians. We already know they favour Atlantis, but if those from Atlantis are seen visiting there, sharing information and culture, as is their preferred form of trade, that could benefit you greatly among those of the Alliance ."
"We do have an invitation from Ambassador Sitayi to visit Pelydr again," Woolsey noted.
"Actually," Carter smiled brightly, "I think we may have the perfect person in the city to meet the Pelydrians and do some cultural trading."
John glanced at the Colonel with a frown, but she was focused on Torren.
"It couldn't be right away, Torren," Carter continued. "As we are busy helping the Elite with gathering intel on the Skerti."
"Of course," Torren nodded. "But I could prepare the way by reaching out to Axhar, whom you may recall?"
John remembered the guy. "Half Pelydrian/Half Athosian? He was here for the non-aggression treaty negotiations."
"Yes," Torren smiled, seeming like he was pleased with John for having remembered. "His mother is our Ambassador to Pelydr and he has mentioned to me that he would like to invite more from Atlantis to his homeworld after he spent time in the Ancestral City."
"I think that's an excellent idea," Carter replied. "I remember him."
"I shall meet with him to discuss it and I will keep you apprised of any other…rumours…I may hear."
"Thank you, Torren," Carter replied.
"I should go tend to the situation in our territory. Please do use the Athosian Portal to send through those of Honoured Elite Skan's team if you wish, they can then Portal to other planets from here."
"Thanks, Torren," John put in.
"Honoured Son," Torren nodded to him with a smile.
"Honoured Father," John smiled back.
Torren nodded to Carter and then Woolsey and reached forward, the video feed cutting off and, a second later, John heard the Gate shut down.
John turned from the dark screen. "Perfect person to go Pelydr?" He asked.
"Daniel," Carter replied. "Sharing culture and having deep philosophical discussions," she smiled. "We may never get him back from Pelydr."
0000
Getting Saoka down the near vertical drop that had formerly been a narrow hallway to his office, had been far more successful than Seeal had anticipated, but it had been far from easy.
The two Security had done an excellent job constructing a large splint to keep Saoka's broken right leg straight and stable, using panels of wood ripped out of Saoka's former desk, pieces of picture frames, and a metal bar they'd pulled out of his former desk chair. The construction had been held together using sticky medical tape, every bandage available from the medical cabinet, and a few pieces of clothing. That, plus the pain medication they had given him, had kept him at least passingly comfortable during the lowering process. That Saoka was conscious had also helped as he'd been able to brace himself somewhat.
What had been the most useful tool though was the sling they had all constructed out of two of the safety seat harnesses and a large sheet and blanket that Saoka had kept in his office for nights when he'd slept in there on the sofa rather than in his quarters. Using the large makeshift sling, they'd managed to lower him down the vertical shaft in metre increments, her and Nanuet wedging themselves below Saoka, while the two Security staff lowered him to them, then the other two made their way down the hallway/shaft that extra metre.
Seeal had found a few new bruises during the descent, or perhaps they had been caused by the wedging herself down the hallway/shaft with her feet on one wall and her back against the other. Her ankle had complained the entire time, but her boot had been doing a decent job supporting the grumbling joint. Still, the relief at reaching the bottom of the shaft had been as intense as the fear-filled scent of body odour surrounding the five of them.
That relief had been shorted lived though as, all squeezed into the base of the shaft/former hallway, they had contemplated the next obstacle to navigate. What had previously been a tall stairwell up to the hallway had become a slanted tunnel ahead of them, with the short back and forth flights of the staircase blocking parts of the way forward.
Fortunately, help had arrived at that point. A team made up of the station's Security and several experienced Military crew who had happened to be on the station had been working their way up the wreck of the station, stabilising injuries and directing survivors to cleared paths down through the station. The rescue team hadn't come empty handed either, they'd brought with them a stretcher, more pain meds for Saoka, and the good news that the lower part of the station was on a more stable angle.
But, getting Saoka through the tunnel on the stretcher had still taken more time and muscle with everyone working together. It had also given Seeal far too many horrible flashbacks of when she had helped get Oneakka's stretcher out of the Rogue Hive, helping lift him over obstacles and expanding holes of collapsed Hive floor. But, many hands had lightened the work again today, and soon enough they'd gotten through the staircase/tunnel and had started down through the station. That part of the trip had involved going down angled wooden planks and slides of former walls, but eventually they'd all made it down a good six floors, joining up with other survivors along the way. They'd then finally emerged through a slightly angled archway into what had formerly been a lobby between the hotel and leisure centres of the station.
Several generators were clearly working, one of which was powering lights stood tall on stands spread around the wide lobby, lighting the masses of survivors moving through it. One side of the lobby had been designated for medical care, and there were perhaps a good hundred people in there, lying on the floor or leaning against the walls, blood staining their clothing, and anyone with any medical training was clearly doing what they could to help. Saoka had been whisked into that area where two proper Healers had taken apart his splint, worked on his leg a bit, and then reapplied the splint. Neither of them were surgeons, but they'd stabilised him and set him up with a small blood infusion.
That taken care of, Seeal had been directed to a queue on the other side of the lobby where a line of washrooms were available and working, thanks to another generator pumping water from the large station reserve tank. In an impressive show of its engineers' skills, the water tank had survived the crash landing intact, though the water reaching the washroom was noticeably weaker than usual. Still, it was more than enough for Seeal to use the toilet and wash herself.
There were bars of soap available on the wide sink and several bottles of various antiperspirants to use, along with large stacks of free clothes. Some of them looked like they'd come from a shop, still wrapped with sizes and prices written on them, while others were clearly spare uniforms for the station's staff. Among the pile, Seeal found a black top that was her size and gratefully pulled that on in place of her former sweat-soaked red shirt. Though her top had been red beforehand, there were large darker sticky patches of Saoka's blood soaked into it, so she was done with the shirt. As she'd thrown it into the big bag-lined container that was an impromptu rubbish receptacle, she noticed there were wrapped up used nappies and other personal disposable items inside it already, and the amount of items indicating a larger number of people before her had used this washroom. Far more than seemed possible in the lobby outside…so presumably survivors had been moved somewhere else?
That wasn't important right now though, she just needed to focus on one thing at a time. She was now as washed as possible, in a fresh top, and just needed to do something about the messy birds-nest of her hair. She pulled it out of its tangled mess around the hair-band, combed it out with her fingers, and quickly worked it into a long plait, which would keep it out of her way.
That done, she considered her newly washed face in the mirror. She'd missed a spot up in one corner of her forehead where some blood had soaked into her hair, but some prodding around found no cut or even a bruise, so she suspected that blood had dripped on her from the Security male's forehead cut when his safety seat had been above hers.
As she took one last look at her somewhat pale-looking face in the mirror, a depressed wave of tiredness washed over her. Through the door outside, she could hear the mass of people moving through the lobby…wherever they were going. She wasn't sure what the hell was going to happen next, but if it was anything like her day so far, she was inclined to just stay hidden away in here.
But of course that wasn't an option.
She ran her washed hands over her face and pushed away from the large sink and headed out of the washroom.
As she exited, she considered the line of people facing her in the queue for this particular washroom. Everyone looked wide-eyed and wired with nervous worry and the exhaustive after-effects of adrenaline. They were all ages too, and a few had blood soaked into their clothes.
Moving away from the washrooms to the next stop on her 'refreshment tour', she joined the next queue which led towards a line of tables that had been set up against one wall of the lobby. On the slightly slanted tables of varying sizes and heights, there were stacks of food and drinks bottles, all likely from the hotel and its restaurant's storage. There were also various bags, hats and coats under the tables, all with the station's advertising on them. As she neared the tables, she spotted what looked like a bag that closed with a simple long string strap, rather like the ones she'd used for short missions off Dream. Once she reached the tables, she pulled the bag out from the pile and then added to it two bottles of water, two small packets of dried kita fruit, a small box of minty sweets that she recognised, and then two sealed packets of Alliance Military emergency meal rations.
They all fitted into the bag with plenty of room to spare, so she pulled it closed and looped the string strap over her head so the bag hung against her back out the way. She considered the coats under the end of the table, but they all looked big and bulky, and it wasn't like she was anywhere close to cold. But there were several long colourful scarves, so she pulled one of those out – picking a blue one because it reminded her of Oneakka. It was thin but had a good length, so she wrapped it several times around her neck and secured the ends into her top. It immediately built up a nice comforting warmth around her neck and it wouldn't get in the way if she needed to climb anything again or run for her life…both of which were highly possible today.
And on that thought, she dropped her hand to the hilt of the blaster Nanuet had given her earlier, but hadn't asked for it back yet. The weapon was securely tucked into her belt and in easy reach.
So she had water, food, and a weapon.
She'd survived with far less before.
What was next though? She considered the others ahead of her. The queue was extending far beyond the food tables she realised, heading towards the far corner of the lobby where she was pretty sure she could see the faint shine of sunlight around a corner. In fact, there was an earthy scent to the air that she'd somehow missed. The queue then was most likely leading to an open area of the station or perhaps out of the station entirely?
She stepped out of the queue and instead made her way back across the faintly slanted the lobby. It looked like some new survivors had been found as the former strong-armed station and Military search party were carrying in another occupied stretcher, a woman with blood-soaked bandages around her head and one shoulder. Seeal held back for them to pass and then followed them into the medical side of the lobby. A brief glance around the makeshift hospital and she quickly spotted Saoka's stretcher to one side, Nanuet and a station staff member crouched down by him. Seeal made her way towards them.
"…we can only thank the great ocean that you are both alive," the station staff female was saying as Seeal reached them, taking up a spot behind Nanuet's shoulder. He had one hand on Saoka's shoulder, crouched protectively by his friend and employer's head. Saoka was looking more alert than before, and the blood infusion bag looked almost empty, so it appeared to have done him some good.
"I just wish we could say that for everyone, Sais," Saoka replied to the female.
"I know," the female Sais replied, one of her hands dropping to Saoka's closest arm. Seeal guessed news had arrived that someone, or some people, they all knew hadn't made it.
"How are the charges on the generators?" Saoka asked.
"We have enough power to run all of them for another," Sais glanced at a timekeeping device attached to her partly torn uniform sleeve, "two hours. Once the station is evacuated of all but those incapable of leaving, we can shutdown all but two generators, and then rotate the others in which should provide power for a day, if not far more, and keep the Beacon broadcasting."
"Is there any chance of the BreakAway's engine being restarted to provide more power?" Saoka asked, shifting one shoulder uncomfortably within the restraints of the stretcher.
"No," Sais replied. "The lowest five decks are inaccessible. Flattened," she added grimly.
"Where are we on the planet?" Nanuet asked her.
"The computer piloting systems did well," Sais smiled, clearly needing some positivity after the lower decks news. "But it had to default to landing us at location three for this BreakAway."
Saoka sighed.
No one said anything else.
"Which means what exactly?" Seeal prompted.
All three of them glanced up and round, only just aware of her arrival.
Sais frowned up at Seeal, but answered. "Each BreakAway has three landing points, of increasing distances from the planned planetary evacuation point where the Portal will be set up."
"So we're on the third choice for this BreakAway?" Seeal asked.
"Exactly," Sais nodded and looked back to Saoka. "And when the BreakAway came down too fast, despite the work of the thrusters, there is a mile long gouged out path behind us."
Which presumably explained what had happened to the lower five decks and the angle of the BreakAway.
"How far are we away from the valley tunnels?" Saoka asked, his face looking rather pinched now.
"Close enough," Sais assured him. "We've been sending out people towards them for the last hour. News is that they've gotten to the tunnels and are inside."
"Good," Saoka sighed with clear relief. "Good. We can get people to safety at least then."
"Safety?" Seeal asked. "We have food, water and power; can't we hold up here until help arrives?"
Sais looked back up at her. "The protocol is for us to get to the Portal Convergence point, which will be set up by the Military once they reach the planet."
"If they have managed to access the Portal in BreakAway One," Saoka uttered.
"Can we communicate with the other BreakAways?" Seeal asked.
"No," Sais shook her head. "The atmosphere on this planet emits a natural jamming frequency, blocking all communications except for the few specific powerful Beacon frequencies that each BreakAway transmits up into orbit for the Military to find us."
"Can't we use those to communicate with anyone?" Seeal pressed.
"No, the Beacons are not designed to do that, all their power is required just to emit a strong enough single frequency pulse, and even then only ships inside the upper atmosphere will be able to detect it because they are looking for it."
Seeal glanced away to the long queue lining the lobby's far wall, bloodied and worried survivors collecting up their food packages and coats for the trek out…where again?
"What are the tunnels you're sending them too?" She asked.
"This planet used to be habitable," Saoka was the one to answer her. "There used to be water running through channels underground. They dried up long ago, except for some of the deepest wells along their length. The Portal will be set up where all the tunnels convergence, on what used to be a seabed, now long dried up."
"So anyone who survived on the other BreakAways are all heading into those tunnels all to reach the Portal."
"Yes, except those too unwell to be moved," Sais added, her worried glance at Nanuet clear. "Those watching over the evacuees outside between here and the tunnels are seeing signs of weaponsfire high up through the clouds."
"Wraith," Seeal muttered. "If they see a load of tasty Humans wandering into a restricted tunnel space, won't they just pick people off inside?"
Nanuet looked up and around over his large shoulder. "The atmosphere here should limit their sensors."
"The likely target of the Wraith will be the crashed BreakAways," Sais added. "Which is why, Saoka," she looked down to her boss, "I think you should leave with the evacuees."
"Leave?" Saoka frowned at her. "I cannot walk, Sais. No, I will stay here with the other wounded, wait for the Military to arrive."
"The chances are the Military will not get here in time, Saoka," Sais stressed. "By our calculations, at best, limited Military support is four hours away and then their priority will be to deal with the Wraith and find the Portal within BreakAway One; neither of which will help us here any time soon. There were hundreds of Wraith Fighters on sensors before the collision. It is a small miracle that they haven't already descended on us."
"Then once everyone able is evacuated," Nanuet stated, "we will seal up here with the wounded in this BreakAway and defend it."
"What Military personnel and station staff we have are assisting the thousands of evacuees and overseeing their trip to the tunnels," Sais stressed. "We have several Military who have volunteered to remain here to help with the wounded, but there are not enough to hold back the Wraith should they attack this BreakAway. We have hardly any weapons, the main weapons store having been in BreakAway One. No, we need to get everyone out that we can."
"We can barricade in here-" Nanuet began.
"This is a tin can waiting for the Wraith to tear into it, Nanuet," Seeal interrupted him. "We're sitting out in the open; we might as well have a 'welcome' sign on the outside."
Nanuet glared up at her. "What would you suggest then?" He asked angrily.
"There's an escape route, we take it; get every single person we can out through it, leaving the smallest number in the BreakAway possible. Cut down the power to all but absolute essentials, make the place look as abandoned as possible to the Wraith and their sensors."
Sais nodded. "Exactly, with the Military personnel and two of us from the station crew, that will have to be enough to protect the wounded and maintain the Beacon. The two Healers have also volunteered to stay here. Everyone else, as soon as they are given emergency aid, will be sent out to the tunnels. Even if they can't move fast, it is better to be hidden in the tunnels and moving towards rescue."
"I am not one of those, so I will stay-" Saoka started.
"We can have you carried, Saoka," Sais insisted.
"No!" Saoka snapped back. "I will not have people carrying me; that is a waste of strength. We need those able to focus on protecting the evacuees."
Seeal glanced away, considering the injured sat and lying around. On first glance, most looked like they had concussions and broken limbs, not quite as bad as Saoka's leg, but she suspected that, given meds and splints, many would be able to walk out. Though, there were some further towards the far wall on several stretchers who looked very still and were hooked up to infusion bags, breathing but not moving much.
Easy pickings for the Wraith if they got in here.
She glanced away to the food supplies table, wondering if there was another way of moving Saoka other than carrying his heavy stretcher…
"I will stay here with you, Saoka," Nanuet stated.
"No, you must go and make sure everyone is taken care of, Nanuet," Saoka argued.
"How did you get those boxes and supplies in here?" Seeal asked Sais as she pointed to the far tables. "Are there any tables on wheels, trolleys?"
Sais stood up from her crouch. "We carried them in, because they had to be brought down from the hotel storage. We had wheeled-chairs, but we've already sent the elderly in those to the tunnels as a priority. But…" she turned on the spot and pointed off to a partly open side door. "There are usually some of the big box trolleys in there that we use to move large items around the station, but they don't have any power. They are manual push/pull devices only."
"How big are they?" Seeal asked.
"Some of the larger ones could hold a person," Sais considered, "but," she frowned down at Saoka, "they are not as long as a stretcher and we'd have to secure it on…"
"Sounds doable," Seeal looked down to Nanuet and Saoka.
"No," Saoka stressed again. "I will not have valuable resources, my staff pushing me through tunnels when they should be helping civilians."
Seeal really wished she hadn't damn well left the Facility. Instead, here she was, making a choice between volunteering to stay inside a sealed tin can for the Wraith to attack or help push a former enemy through some grubby, and probably soon to be Wraith-infested, tunnels.
"Nanuet and I will push you," she told Saoka firmly, "so that's only one of your staff and he's clearly not going to leave your side wherever you go. So, you need to shut up and let your staff do their jobs that you hired them to do, listen to their advice and conserve your energy." She turned her attention off Saoka's frowning sweaty face to focus on Nanuet's crouched profile. "I'm guessing it's not going to be a nice short trip through the tunnels to the Portal, right?"
Nanuet stood up, forcing her to step back a little to give him space as he turned towards her.
"From here, it's more than a day's walk," he confirmed.
"Of course it is," she sighed.
That was just the way life worked wasn't.
0000
TBC