Chapter 16: Daedalus
Watching the glimpse of wonder cross Alex's face as they stared out the window down at Earth was well worth the trouble, in John's opinion.
No teenager could be so jaded that they didn't find something like that absolutely spectacular.
Alex didn't disappoint.
"Colonel Sheppard."
John fought the automatic urge to straighten his shoulders, because they were peers for goodness' sake. "Colonel Caldwell. Thanks for the lift."
"Not a problem. You get a new friend?" He sketched a glance in Alex's direction, clearly dismissing him. "O'Neill's pet project, I suppose."
Alex turned from his staring out the window, bland expression on his face. Like no one important. Easily dismissed.
"Let's say, he's got some mutual enemies," John hedged. There were too many listening ears around, after all. Even though he knew Colonel Caldwell ran a tight ship, he had gotten himself implanted once. There was no telling who the Trust might have hiding on board. "O'Neill give you a run down?"
"Barely." The tight expression on his face belayed his frustration at that. "I've got quarters for you tonight. Keep a low profile though. Major Fields will make sure you get there unnoticed."
John noticed just how few people were present on the bridge and wondered how they had been scattered off.
"Dinner time, Colonel," Colonel Caldwell said, before dismissing them both with a nod.
John hefted the bags over his shoulder, before nudging Alex into motion behind Major Fields. He had met Fields once or twice, but he was Caldwell's man through and through. Someone to be trusted.
"These quarters were marked as being down for repair after the last battle," Major Fields said, as he led them through a path of caution tape marked rooms. "Colonel Caldwell had them repaired the other day, but kept them marked as out of order when he heard you had a tagalong. Sir."
Alex huffed, clearly resenting being considered a tagalong.
"It's small, but you'll have some privacy. No one should come this way." Major Fields waved his badge in front of a doorway and the doors slid open. "I'll grab you both something from the mess, but it may be an hour or so before I can get back this way. There's a communicator for General O'Neill in there, as well."
John gave Alex a nudge into the room, before nodding his thanks at the major. "We appreciate the hospitality."
Major Fields just nodded at him. "I'll lock the doors to mine and the colonel's signatures." He waved the card in front of the reader once more and gave them one last nod before the door slid shut again.
"Well, it's cozy," Alex muttered, standing all but pressed up against the far wall.
John smirked. "You didn't think ships had a lot of extra space on them, did you?"
Alex slanted a glare in his direction. "I've been on ships before. Not spaceships though."
John just pushed past him and unhooked the top bunk from the ceiling. "We're just lucky they had some of the private quarters available." For one, their cover would have been blown immediately if they had had to bunk in the common. For another, there was even less space and even more bunks crammed together there. Officer quarters, like these, were a distinct perk. "Top or bottom?"
Alex glanced at it skeptically, before throwing his bag up on the top bunk. "I'd rather not be crushed to death when it detaches from the ceiling."
John rolled his eyes, but didn't comment. If anything was going to fall apart in the room, Colonel Caldwell wouldn't have sent them there. John was far too valuable to lose to something like faulty furniture, after all. And once it became clear that he really didn't want John's spot as military commander of Atlantis, they had come to a bit of an understanding.
Alex pulled himself up onto the bed, pillow tucked under his chest. "Now what?"
"Now… we wait."
It was going to be an exciting night.
"Sheppard. Come in."
The emergencies couldn't wait.
He must've fallen asleep with his communicator on again.
He rubbed at his ear.
"Sheppard."
There was a reason Lorne was supposed to shoulder some of the burden.
So he could sleep.
"Uh… shouldn't you get that?"
John jerked fully awake, sitting up and smacking his head on the bottom of the bunk. "Ow, fuck!"
Bunk.
Dark.
Desk.
No communicator.
"Sheppard, don't make me send Colonel Caldwell looking for you." That was O'Neill, sounding distinctly displeased.
John rubbed at his forehead, then rolled out of bed, trying to find the communicator Major Fields had pointed out. It didn't help that he couldn't just think the lights on, so he was working completely in the dark – literally.
"I'm going to start counting—Oh, Colonel Sheppard, so nice to see you."
John slid open the communicator tablet, wincing at the brightness of the screen. "Oh, you know sir, just enjoying a little shut eye." He was betting he looked as bad as he felt, but could probably get away with it considering it was O'Neill. "It's what," he glanced down at his watch, trying to make out the blurry numbers. "4:30 in the morning? Perfectly normal time to be up." He wasn't even sure what time zone it was 4:30 in, but either way, he was exhausted and gate-lagged.
O'Neill raised a careful eyebrow in his direction.
"Sir."
"Humph. If I had half a mind, I wouldn't tell you what we've found—ow!" Dr. Jackson appeared in the frame behind O'Neill, not looking a whit tired, having just punched the general. Freaks, the lot of them. "But Danny-boy here has made it clear that this is an emergency and we need to clear you out before more of the SGC is compromised."
"Compromised?"
Dr. Jackson leaned into the screen. "Have you heard of Ancient Killers?"
John rubbed his forehead, trying to marshal his thoughts into line. "No? Should I have?" Maybe it was something they had used against the Ori. He had skipped most of those reports. Religious zealots forcing nations to bow to their will had seemed almost as threatening as the Wraith – and he had enough nightmares to last him a lifetime.
"Let's just say, we've suddenly got a rash of the weapons on base and no one is sure how they got here." O'Neill stated, looking rather grim. "We're not going to be able to wait for the Daedalus to return to Atlantis."
"Sir…?" The only other way was through the stargate, which, notably, was an enormous power drain. They had another ZPM, but… Rodney hadn't yet figured out how to recharge them. And there were a finite number of them left in the known universe.
"Colonel Caldwell will be sending you down with a regular supplies drop in an hour. You'll be in hanger 4B. I'll have an escort waiting for you there. Make sure you have all your belongings."
Back to Atlantis much sooner than he had intended. It was certainly going to raise the alarm bells there. And dragging a kid into the midst of it… He could almost picture Woolsey's disappointed look and Rodney's look of alarm.
John rubbed a hand over his face, trying to wake himself up. They wouldn't be getting anymore sleep. "Yes, sir. We'll be there."
The communicator shut off, plunging the room back into darkness. The one downside to outer space – rooms tended to be entirely windowless. For safety. John fumbled through the room, until he found the light switch on the far wall and flicked it on.
Unsurprisingly, Alex had his head buried under his pillow. "Don't wanna," he mumbled into the bed.
"Yeah, me neither." John stretched his neck, then rubbed at the knot on his forehead. With his luck, it was going to leave a mark and someone – toss up between Rodney or Lorne – was going to mention it at the most inopportune moment. Like when he was trying explain that they were protecting Alex from the Trust.
Grudgingly, Alex swung his legs over the edge of the bed and sat up, squinting into the light of the room. "I'm guessing we're not coming back here."
"Nope." Not with a dire warning to have all your belongings. They were likely to get punted through the gate just as quickly as they had arrived. And here he had been planning to use the two-week trip with the Daedalus to get Alex acclimated to the idea of living on Atlantis. To entice him with the toys and thrills of new discoveries – and perhaps gain his trust a bit and maybe get that tracker under his skin sooner rather than later.
And figure out how he was going to explain this all to Woolsey…
Alex ran a hand through his hair, which was getting to be just long enough that it stuck up in unruly clumps. "They better not expect me to be in a good mood."
"Oh?"
Alex squinted at him through one eye. "I'm a teenager. Normal teenagers don't get up before 10, if they can help it. Especially after they've been kidnapped." The last part he grumbled to himself, no doubt not caring if John heard him or not.
With how flaky his own sleep schedule had been – and that was one of the points to going back to earth, there weren't supposed to be emergencies that woke him out of bed – over the past few days, he was probably going to pull rank when they got back to Atlantis and leave Lorne in charge for another few days.
Maybe.
He could always help Rodney down in the labs.
"Any other wise words of wisdom you'd like to share?"
Alex just rolled his eyes and slid off the bunk. "Just let me clean up in peace." He shoved past John and into the small bathroom. They had been lucky enough that there was one adjoining the room. Even if it was smaller than most closets.
"Just don't use up all the hot water," John sniped back.
Alex flipped him the bird and shut the door. Within moments, there was the sound of water running and cursing as body parts ran into the far too small cubicles.
John smiled to himself and set about repacking his bag. They likely weren't going to have a chance to do anything else once they got back planet-side.
"Beaming in three, two, one—"
John clenched his eyes shut against the bright light – really, they needed to put some resources into not blinding the people they were picking up and setting down – then opened them again as the light faded away. Colonel Caldwell hadn't even let them leave their quarters, just had Hermiod beam them directly from the room down to the hanger.
He had really wanted Alex to just get a glimpse of Hermiod…
They were in amongst pallets and empty crates, so John kept a hand on his gun as they crept out toward the front. A lone person walked through the crates, hands held out at their sides.
"I come in peace."
John rolled his eyes, then pulled Alex out from behind the crates. "Mitchell. What'd we do to earn you as our welcoming committee?"
"You stood me up for drinks. Figured I better at least meet the guy who turned my base upside down." He shot a cocky grin in Alex's direction. "Cameron Mitchell. Current commander of the SGC, but I'm pretty sure O'Neill's headhunting for my replacement at this point."
Alex's fingers gripped his backpack a little tighter, clearly wary of Mitchell.
"He was off world," John added, trying to put Alex at ease. "If he had been around, holy hell would've rained down on Stadler and his men a lot quicker." He wouldn't have accepted the lie about a training accident for one – Mitchell had all but memorized John's schedule, he was sure of it. "You're our escort?"
Mitchell shoved his hands into his pockets, then turned around, heading toward one of the back doors on the hanger. "The general needed to send someone he could trust. And well, I needed to come over here and sign inventory, anyway."
John hefted the duffel bags over his shoulder, before prodding Alex into motion. "He's safe," he all but whispered into Alex's ear. "I've known him a long time and the general wouldn't have sent him out without a thorough checking for any tagalongs."
Alex still seemed wary, but at least he was moving in the right direction.
Mitchell led the way through the stacks and out a side door, into the dark of the early morning. His truck was waiting and John had a sinking sensation that they weren't going to get the first-class escort in.
"Sorry about this, but…" Mitchell shrugged. "We've got to smuggle you in. O'Neill is worried that the Trust have someone watching the front door. If we sneak you through under their noses though…"
Alex gave the truck a very wary glance.
"In the back, then?" John asked, reluctantly.
"There are two tarps – Carter's invention. When they scan the truck, they shouldn't see anything."
Shouldn't being the key word.
"Is that how Stadler got me in?" Alex asked, very quietly.
Mitchell looked pained for a moment, before he shook his head. "He had a different device and several of the sentries on duty didn't pay close attention. In the wake of all that, security on base has been upped considerably – which unfortunately, works against us since we want to smuggle you in this time." He made a shooing motion toward the truck bed. "Now, hurry up. We don't have a lot of time until someone realizes I'm off-schedule."
John climbed up, stashing the bags at the far end of the bed. The tarps looked much like any other, so he was just going to have to trust that they actually did something. He gave a hand up to Alex, then settled in for the short drive.
"Just make sure there's one over and one under you by the time we stop at the checkpoint." Mitchell pulled the gate up and shut it.
At least it was a covered truck bed. They weren't going to get buffeted to death by the wind – but it certainly wasn't heated.
"You know, I'm not sure I would've agreed to this, if I had known the plan," Alex mumbled, before settling down next to John. "How long of a drive?"
John thought about it for a moment. At this time of morning, with little to no traffic… "Ten, fifteen minutes?" That was a conservative estimate. If Mitchell got through the guard station quickly, they would be back out of the truck in less than fifteen minutes.
If they got held up though…
There would probably be a lot of awkward questions to answer.
A/N: My apologies for falling of the face of the earth. No promises it won't happen again, but these chapters ARE WRITTEN. (mostly) So help me god. It will be posted. Your encouragement and predictions along the way are great helps though. So just in case you don't get it in the comment responses, I appreciate you all very much. We'll see if I can manage posting next week or not.