Chapter Text
Elizabeth huddled under the console in the control room between Rodney and Dr. Jackson; Miko was shaking, curled up against Elizabeth's back. "Is there another exit?" Dr. Jackson asked over the sound of bullets.
Rodney shook his head, eyes wide and scared. "Not unless you want to follow Heightmeyer."
There was another explosion well above their heads, followed by staff weapon fire. From their hiding space, she could see the head of the first armored warrior that had come at them, ghoulish features and all. If she turned, she could see another warrior coming from the other direction, which meant the cover they were under was all but useless. She could hear Colonel O'Neill and Jones firing on the first fighter; Teyla and Major Sheppard were facing the one coming from behind, but their shots seemed to be not only ineffective, but entirely unnoticed.
Elizabeth slipped her hand into Rodney's. His palms were as sweaty as hers. His other hand was intertwined with Dr. Jackson's, gripping so hard that the knuckles were white. He turned his face away, squeezing his eyes tightly shut. A part of Elizabeth wanted to do the same, but her mother had always told her to face danger head-on. She lifted her head as the warrior approached, staring at the harsh bony skull tightly covered by grayish-brown skin. It raised its arm, pointing its weapon across the room. She squeezed Rodney's hand tightly.
It fired.
She followed the path of the energy bolt automatically, expecting to hear screams from O'Neill or Jones when it passed out of view, obscured by the legs of the console. Then she saw a shower of sparks fountaining up from the front of the first ghoulish soldier. Its head dropped out of view. She heard the crash as it fell to the floor.
"What?" she asked aloud, stunned.
Rodney opened one eye. "We're not dead?"
Elizabeth shook her head, stunned. She was even more shocked when the soldier spoke, its voice blurred and gravelly, but somehow familiar. "Colonel O'Neill, sir," it said.
Rodney and Dr. Jackson looked at each other. Elizabeth could feel Miko moving against her back, straightening from the curled up position she'd been in earlier.
"Who is that?" Dr. Jackson asked, his mouth hanging open just a little. Elizabeth shook her head, and crawled out from under the console, standing up to get a better look.
Colonel O'Neill moved toward the construct, head cocked to the side, looking slightly confused. His eyes suddenly went cool and blank, but before they did, she could see a flash of horror in them.
"Lieutenant Ford?" he asked.
Elizabeth stifled her own gasp; there were enough coming from the rest of the room. From the corner of her eye, she could see Jones go even paler than her normal alabaster. Elizabeth grabbed the console tightly with one hand, focusing on staying calm and collected, silently running through all the issues confronting them.
"Yes, sir," Ford said, his hand abortively moving toward his face, then dropping back to his side. "I'm not sure, but…I think I've been drugged, or something."
The Colonel's brow furrowed a little, but before he could begin to explain, Elizabeth broke in. "Colonel O'Neill. I realize there are things we need to explain to the Lieutenant," she said, nodding to Ford, trying not to look for the young man she'd known, however briefly, beneath the new face. "But first, someone needs to bring Dr. Heightmeyer to the sarcophagus."
O'Neill nodded. "Jones," he said. "That's you. Move fast. Once you put her in the sarcophagus, you stay down there and back up Bates until I relieve you. You got that?"
Jones' bright green eyes went a little wider. "Bates – wait, Bates is in on this?"
Elizabeth smiled, warm pride at Bates' skill filling her. "Airman, he planned this."
"Go, Jones," O'Neill said.
"Headsets are over there," Jones said, pointing at a small box balanced on an Ancient device. She turned and sprinted down the stairs to the gateroom, taking them two at a time.
The Colonel took a deep breath, then let it out, turning to his erstwhile third-in-command. "Lieutenant Ford – "
"Good news," Rodney interrupted. Elizabeth and O'Neill turned to see the display on the screen. The red triangles and yellow squares were almost within their planet's orbit, now, but they all seemed to be on top of each other. "We seem to have gained a few extra minutes," Rodney said, his hands moving over the Ancient input mechanism. "I'll to try to zoom in on what's going on."
Sheppard was staring at the console Rodney was working on, a slightly bemused expression on his face, like there was some common word he was searching for that wouldn't come to his lips. He shouldered Rodney aside and began touching buttons, each one of which lit up happily under the feathery motion of his fingers, the difference between Rodney's harsh taps and his gliding motions like that between a third grader and a concert pianist.
"What's he doing?" Rodney asked. "Daniel, ask him what he's doing."
"Cantartas quequa anodio," Sheppard said distractedly.
"He says it's too difficult to explain," Dr. Jackson said, looking worriedly at the intent Major.
Rodney was indignant. "Well, tell him to try breaking it down into words of two syllables or less for all the double Ph.Ds!"
"Must be tough, not being the smartest guy in the room," O'Neill smirked.
"I'm the head scientist on this mission. If he breaks something – "
The visual on the screen suddenly zoomed in, giving a close-up of the interplanetary battlefield and ending Rodney's incipient tirade. The squares and triangles were now the size of Elizabeth's palm. As she watched, one of the squares flared brightly, then faded to nothing. In a smaller square in the corner of the screen, another window popped up, this one displaying a three-dimensional overlay of what looked like wires and pipes, with notations in Ancient. It rolled and turned, too quickly for Elizabeth to make sense of the words.
O'Neill stepped closer to the console. "You mean, we get picture-in-picture on this thing?"
Another window popped up; this one showed, from above, a field with a number of tents. Two small figures were walking across the field, carrying what looked like long logs; many more seemed to be building a fence, or maybe a frame for a long building.
Teyla's hand reached up toward the screen. "My people," she said quietly.
Sheppard looked up for a moment, and flashed her a quick grin. Then his fingers skimmed over the flat translucent panels again, and several more windows popped up over the starfield. Words raced across one; another held something that seemed to Elizabeth to be no more than a whirl of ever-changing color; a third had a map of the city, with a blue line running through it.
"What's – is that the Ancient version of MapQuest?" Rodney said.
"Eego indeeo adeitum eo lochus," Sheppard said, pointing as the map zoomed in on a room deep in the bowels of the north pier.
Elizabeth searched her brain for the words she needed in Ancient, putting them one after the other slowly and carefully as if she were laying them out on a table. "Licere tu aramara reconcilio?" Please tell me you can bring the defense shields up, she thought.
"Eetium, ebi," Sheppard said, as if it would be as simple as making coffee. He looked at everyone else in the room, raised his eyebrows as if they were all a little thick, and pointed at the map again.
"Okay," Elizabeth said. She picked up the box of headsets and took one, then handed it to Colonel O'Neill. As she fitted it over her ear she took a deep breath, already making lists in her head. "We have three missions. Rodney, you and Dr. Jackson will go with Major Sheppard and help him bring up the shields."
Dr. Jackson and Rodney nodded. Sheppard had that look she was familiar with from hundreds of negotiations where all parties were not speaking the same language, the confused one that said he was trying to follow everything that was going on by tone alone. As Jackson leaned over to whisper in his ear, she turned to O'Neill. "You said you could fly one of Ba'al's ships, yes?"
"Like falling off a unicycle, ma'am," he responded.
Behind him, Miko was at a computer that was clumsily patched in to the Ancient systems on one side and a piece of Earth technology on the other. When each person activated their headset, a green light flared on the back of the chunky Earth machine, and Miko made an entry into the computer system. Elizabeth caught her eye and nodded a thank you.
"Good," she replied to O'Neill. "The transport rings are in the gate room. You and Teyla will bring the – " Elizabeth realized that, though she'd seen Teyla's people around the base for weeks, she'd never found out what they were called; she'd always assumed they were followers of Ba'al. "What are your people called?" she asked Teyla respectfully.
Teyla smiled. She'd already hooked her headset on. "We are the Athosians," she said.
Elizabeth smiled, and turned back to O'Neill. "You and Teyla will get the Athosians and bring them back here."
Colonel O'Neill took a deep breath. "Ma'am, this – " he waved his hand around "…rebellion is a military situation. You need me here."
Elizabeth folded her arms. "Colonel, I organized this rebellion. I have plenty of fighters to defend the city. What I need right now is a pilot that knows how to fly a Goa'uld ship, and you're the only one I've got. How fast do you think you can do that?"
O'Neill looked at her for a second, as if he were considering another protest. Then he turned to the woman standing next to him. "How many people have you got?" O'Neill asked Teyla.
Teyla's head tilted to one side. "Perhaps one hundred. Certainly no more."
O'Neill nodded, and turned back to Elizabeth. "For a simple drop-everything evac, we can be there and back in two hours," he said.
Elizabeth's eyes darted over to the screen; she noticed O'Neill was looking at it, too. "I think the Sharks and the Jets will be at it for a while longer," he said.
Elizabeth nodded. "I hope you're right," she answered. She stepped over to Lieutenant Ford, resting one hand on his armor, which was oddly warm to the touch, and forced herself not to flinch as she looked into the flat, blank spaces where his eyes should have been.
"Lieutenant Ford," she said quietly, trying to put as much empathy into her voice as she could. "I'm afraid that you've been the victim of some experimentation by Ba'al. When we get through this, we're going to work as hard as we can to bring you back to normal. But right now, you are probably the person on this station best-equipped to defend this area against his Jaffa." She searched his nearly-immobile face, wishing there was an expression on it she could read. "Can you do that?"
"Yes, ma'am," he said, the dark helmet inclining downward a fraction.
"Good," Elizabeth smiled, wishing she could squeeze his hand. She hoped Dr. Heightmeyer was placed in the sarcophagus in time; after this was over, nearly everyone on Atlantis would need her counseling. And who will counsel her? Elizabeth thought, and realized her automatic answer was, Me. "I'll organize teams to take care of the last Jaffa in the city," she said.
She looked over the people in the room. Her people. Then she nodded.
"All right, everyone," she said. "Let's get to work." As they moved together to say their goodbyes, she leaned down toward Miko. "Doctor, I'd like to make an announcement to the entire city."
Miko nodded, moved her hands from the human technology to the Ancient control board, and then looked up expectantly at Elizabeth.
– – –
"This is Dr. Elizabeth Weir. The Atlantis expedition is now in control of the control room and the gate room, and is rapidly taking control of other areas of the city."
Bates looked up from the sarcophagus lid closing over Kate's face, and smiled at Jones. "Now, that's the sort of thing I like to hear," he said, hefting his staff weapon and moving back toward the door.
"To all the Jaffa on the station: Ba'al has been killed. Your god is dead, and he is not coming back."
Teyla looked at Daniel consideringly for a moment. He still had the same slightly befuddled, slightly nervous aura he'd had when they'd all been Ba'al's prisoners, and yet she'd seen evidence of the steel inside. He turned, as if he could feel her eyes on her, and looked back.
She stepped toward him. "I did not think you were capable of killing Ba'al."
He smiled nervously, his lips pulling back to reveal all his teeth. The light flared off the lenses of his glasses, and for a moment she couldn't see his eyes. "Neither did I, really."
She smiled, reaching her hands out to grasp his forearms. "You have greater strength and loyalty than anyone has given you credit for, I think," she said, bowing her head toward him.
"There is no point to fighting any longer. If you throw down your weapons and give yourself up, we will show mercy. If you do not, my military teams are under orders to hunt you down."
Tarl'rac looked up from his hiding place in the dark parts of the city. His god was dead, and he knew there was no longer any hope of victory.
His hands curled around his staff weapon. He might not be able to save Ba'al, but he could at least avenge him.
"To my own people: we now have new information on how to operate the Ancient technology, information that can protect us from the Wraith."
Jack stood in front of Major Sheppard, arms crossed. He tried to think of the Ancient, but most of the words wouldn't come. "When I reditio, noo are gonna have a talk about dictia," he said.
"Eetiam," Sheppard replied, standing rigidly at attention. His fingers were starting to glide over the console again, though, and even though his eyes stayed locked on Jack's, there was a slight drift of focus, as if he was looking at something a few inches beyond the back of Jack's head.
Jack slapped him on the shoulder, bringing the Major's attention back to him for a moment. "Good luck," he said.
"If you are part of the science team who has been working in the control room, please report here as soon as possible."
Kavanagh was sitting in the dark, his arms wrapped around his knees, listening to the announcement. The fighting outside his door had ended about fifteen minutes ago. Discretion had seemed the better part of valor – if he didn't take part in either side of the fighting, he was more likely to be alive in the morning. He wasn't going to make it back home if he was dead, and he wasn't going to try to take on the Jaffa in an unarmed suicide mission.
But now Dr. Weir was calling. Was she telling the truth, or was it just spin control, like the US military did with every battle?
He looked down at his hands. Then he looked at the door.
He pulled on his jacket and left for the control room.
"We also have another enemy approaching, the Goa'uld system lord Anubis. He's currently battling the Wraith within this solar system. Their battle has bought this station some time."
Jack bent his head close to McKay's; he didn't want to advertise what he had to say to the rest of the room. "Sheppard hasn't got much time before everything that's in his head overwrites his brain. You remember the place where we found the old lady?"
"The cryogenic house of horrors? I'm not likely to forget it anytime soon," McKay said.
"When he gets done with whatever he's doing, bring him there. He'll be able to operate the thing." Jack looked away, down toward the Stargate. He felt a little like he was dictating his last will and testament. He looked back at McKay. "When I get back, put me in one, too. Then send a message to General Carter."
"What do you want me to say? 'Having a lousy time, wish we were there?'"
"That's a start," Jack shrugged. "Then tell her to contact the Asgard. Thor will know how to get all the..." He gestured with one hand, a rolling, looping motion. "'stuff out of our heads."
McKay nodded, his mouth a thin angled slash, his eyes wide and pained. He grasped Jack's hand with his own. "Good luck," he said.
"You too," Jack said, shaking his hand, then pulling him in for a momentary back-slapping hug, feeling almost naked going into potential disaster without the cranky physicist at his side. As he let McKay go, he looked at Dr. Jackson, who'd just walked up beside them. This was where the three of them had their first conversation, he realized, practically this very spot. "Take care of him for me," he told Jackson.
Jackson nodded, and smiled a little. "I always do."
"We must all work together if we are to save this city from the Goa'uld and the Wraith."
"Teyla," John said, then stopped. There were so many things he wanted to say to her, but he couldn't say them in any way that she would understand. Instead, he leaned forward, cupping her face with his hands, and kissed her, trying to make it matter.
But even as he tasted her mouth, his mind was spinning through the corridors and pathways of Atlantis, unfurling the knowledge of the Ancients. The texture of her tongue was like the regular, velvety pattern of molecules between points in the transporter system, the system that was slowly bleeding power from the generators that were not nearly as powerful as the ZPM the city needed to power the shields. Stars were whirling before his closed eyes. There was warmth in his arms, something reassuring, someone he cared about very much, and the sensations that flowed through his body when he touched her were simply unbelievable.
When he looked down at her again, he knew she was special to him. But he could no longer remember her name.
"We've made it through the night. This morning, the city belongs to us. In the next few hours, we'll ensure that it's ours for good. Thank you, everyone, for your sacrifices and your good work."
– – –
The man with the hard mouth and thin hair was following John around, tapping on his primitive little hand-held computer as he watched John pull up schematics and bring supplies to the lab. He said something John didn't understand, and the other man, the taller one with the long hair, translated. "He wishes you to slower down, so he will to learn what you do here."
John rocked back from his knees to squat, resting his forearms on his knees, looking up at the guy. A moment of clarity washed over him. Daniel, he thought, looking at his friend. Rodney McKay, he thought, looking at the scientist who was staring at him with a combination of avarice, jealousy and fear. And Ba'al was dead. Dammit, they should be having a party, and instead everything in his brain was getting pushed out by the Ancient version of Encyclopedia Britannica, and not one, but two enemy fleets were on the way. This just isn't my day, John thought.
"Daniel, did anyone ever tell you your Ancient grammar is for shit?" he asked. Daniel opened his mouth to respond, and John waved him off. He could feel another tsunami of information about to rush over him, and wondered if this would be the one that drowned him. "Look, tell Mr. Smarty-Pants there that I can either do this or explain it to him, but I can't do both. I'll try to unlock a library or two for you along the way, but…"
It crashed down around him, formulas and theories and data and the structure of the Wraith RNA and how to stabilize naquadah so that it wouldn't explode even when sent into the core of a sun, and it was easy, so easy, the invaders had no idea, that healing device he'd spent so much time in would just ignite if enough power were sent through it, and he looked down at the pieces in front of him and remembered that he needed to build this thing for them, the Zero Point Module.
He looked up at the shorter man, the one with the thin mouth. He couldn't do this? Children did this. He began to assemble it.
"John?" the other man said, the one he dimly remembered as a friend. He tried to translate what the man was saying. Oh, he suddenly remembered. That's my name.
He shook his head at his friend and turned back to his work.
– – –
With the touch of a button, the doors of the tel'tak opened. A breeze wafted in, carrying with it a smell that reminded Jack of his house by the lake. They stepped out, and he saw the fields, the forest, and through the trees, the glint of sunlight on water.
"You guys lookin' for neighbors?" Jack asked as he gestured toward the lake.
Teyla smiled at him. "I think you will find my people welcoming."
People were already leaving aside their work, coming out of their tents, walking toward them. Then Jack saw Charlie walking toward him, and froze, not daring to breathe.
His son took two steps, and then he turned his head, and Jack realized it wasn't Charlie at all, just an Athosian teenager who didn't even look all that much like him, really. Then he realized he hadn't thought of Charlie at all for the past twelve hours, and his heart seemed like it was being wrenched out of his chest. It felt like a betrayal.
"Colonel O'Neill, are you all right?" Teyla said, placing her hand on his arm. As she looked at him, he understood why she was the leader of these people – she had that weird combination of fierce warrior and nurturing nymph down pat.
He meant to say Yeah. What came out of his mouth was "Eetium".
Aw, stercus, he thought.
"It is happening to you, too," Teyla said, her voice low.
He nodded. "Let's get a move on."
– – –
Elizabeth spoke into her radio. "Jones, I need Sergeant Bates up here to organize teams to clear the city of hostile Jaffa. Can you handle things down there on your own?" she asked.
"Sure can, ma'am," she said. "I'll have Kate to back me up in a few minutes."
"Thank you, Airman," Elizabeth said, tapping her headset to close the connection.
"Ma'am," a low, cultured voice said from behind her.
She turned. Peter was sliding into a seat behind a console. There was a smear of blood on his shirt, a bruise was forming around his right eye, and his lip was split. "Peter! You look terrible!"
Peter started to smile, then stopped as it pulled on his cut mouth. "Not nearly as bad as my opponent, ma'am." He looked up at the screen, looked down at his console, tapped a couple of buttons, looked up again. "Doctor Weir, we may have a more imminent problem than we thought."
"What?" she said, looking at the screen. The picture changed, showing outer space. The battle was in the background, Goa'uld and Wraith fleets swirling around each other in a whirlpool of death. In the foreground, she could see something shaped like a triangle, silver and deadly sharp.
"It's a Wraith hive ship," he said. "It looks like it's fled the battle, and it's coming toward us."
– – –
The knowledge was weighing heavily on John. His head throbbed; he knew he was forgetting things, but he couldn't remember what.
Of course you can't remember what you forgot. That's what forgetting means, he thought to himself.
The man with the glasses and the kind blue eyes leaned over him again, touching his shoulder. When John looked at him, he got a flash of blood, a knife, a quick memory of a dark haired corpse. "Who did we kill?" he asked.
The man's mouth was slack for a moment before he spoke. "Ba'al," he said, and John remembered pain and violation, and tensed under the hand on his shoulder, his flesh crawling. "It was needed," the man continued, taking his hand away, looking suddenly sad. He scanned the control board, then looked back at John. "Finished?" he asked anxiously.
John looked around. The ZPM was in, and the shields were ready for activation, but there was so much else he could do. Every time he touched a console, he could hear the city singing to him. It missed him, it wanted him. It was begging him to stay. His head throbbed again, and everything around him seemed to white out for a second. "I'm finished with the shields," he said. "But that's not the only thing here that needs fixing."
The bespectacled man spoke to the slash-mouthed one in a language John didn't understand. The brittle one replied hastily, words tumbling out of his mouth, but a sudden sharp look from the kind man put him off. He sighed, looking disappointed, and said something to the kind man in a defeated tone.
"I'm sorry," the man with the glasses said to John. "You're ill. We must take you to the…" He paused, searching for words. "the freezing-room until one comes who can make you well."
John saw it in his mind, the room with the glass columns, knew exactly how to activate it so his biosigns would slow to a crawl. He nodded, running his hand over the Ancient console soothingly. Soon, he thought to it.
He walked out the door toward the cryogenic chambers, the two blue-eyed men at his side. There was someone else, a woman with brown eyes. She should have been there, too.
"Tell her I said goodbye," he said to the man with the glasses. Daniel. The name flitted across his brain, and then was gone.
"I will," the man nodded. "I promise you, I will tell her."
– – –
The tel'tak flew high above the ocean, casting a shadow on the water below. They'd managed to cram all the Athosians into the cargo hold. It was a tight fit; good thing they were okay with being cozy, Jack thought.
"Thank you," Teyla said to him. "I know how difficult it is to leave your people when you feel you should be leading them. There are not many who would rush to help others when their own people were in danger."
"De nada" Jack said with a wave of his hand. She opened her mouth, and he cut her off. "Sorry. Not Ancient. Spanish." He shrugged. "If I'd stayed there I would have just been making coffee anyway."
Teyla nodded. "I understand," she said. "They don't need warriors, now. They need scientists. I suspect I would have felt quite useless, as well."
He looked at her, at the knives she'd strapped on in her home village when she'd changed into her more practical native clothing. "You kicked some serious Jaffa ass today."
She smiled. "Thank you," she said.
They flew in silence for a minute. Then Teyla spoke quietly. "I saw the shock in your face at seeing Arunas. Did he remind you of one you lost?"
Suddenly, the ten minutes it was going to take to get back to Atlantis were looking like eons. Jack took a deep breath, his hands pressing against the console. "Look – "
Without warning, the ship shook.
"What the hell?" he asked, bringing up the rear view on the screen.
Behind them was a ship he'd never seen before – tiny, needle-nosed and fast as hell. On the readouts in front of him, the shields had suddenly taken a precipitous drop.
"It is a Wraith dart," Teyla said, her eyes wide. "Can you fire back?"
"This thing is Ba'al's minivan," he said. "No weapons." He started skating around the sky, evasive maneuvers that shook the Wraith off their tail for a moment. "Hit that red button there and phone home. Tell 'em to bring up the shield as soon as we get back. He'll hit it like running into a wall," Jack said, and focused all of his attention on staying the hell out of the Wraith ship's way.
– – –
Bates scratched the back of his neck as he stood in the control room, but the itch didn't go away. He wondered if it was because of the armored man looming on the other side of the control room. He may have been Bates' superior officer once, but he'd been tinkered with by Ba'al, and Bates didn't quite trust him.
"Okay, Sheppard's a popsicle and the ZPM's in the socket. Why aren't the shields up yet? Hello, big ship, coming our way, thinks we're dinner," Dr. McKay said as he and Dr. Jackson ran in.
"Colonel O'Neill's run into a problem on the way back to Atlantis," Dr. Weir said. "There's a Wraith dart following him. The tel'tak doesn't have any weapons, so we're waiting for him to get inside the shield."
"Like slamming a door in the Wraith's face," Dr. Jackson said.
Dr. McKay looked like he was about to say something, but Dr. Kavanagh spoke first. "Of course, we could always wind up locking the Wraith ship in here with us," the scientist said.
That itch on the back of Bates' neck was getting worse. He started looking around the room. A flash of sunlight off Ford's helmet as he turned his head blinded the sergeant, and he rubbed his eyes.
"Well, I suppose that's why Ba'al set up a few cannons on the balconies," Dr. McKay sniped back. His hand hovered over the console. "I can code this to bring the shields up as soon as his tel'tak comes within the perimeter."
Bates blinked as he saw another glint. The clouds slid over the sun, and he realized it wasn't a glint at all. "Down! Everybody down!" he yelled, grabbing Dr. Weir and bringing her to the ground, shielding her body with his own as a staff blast went over their heads. Adrenalin kicked in, and everything around Bates seemed to go into slow motion.
The little Asian scientist hit the deck beside them just as a second staff blast flew through the air, slamming into the communications console they'd set up. He moved, covering more of Dr. Weir's body as metal shrapnel flew toward them, searing his back through his jacket.
Across the room, he could see Dr. Jackson wrap one arm around a stunned Dr. McKay, pulling him down to the floor with a diving lunge. Dr. Grodin was flying out of his chair and under his console in a graceful dive. A staff blast from a different direction hit the console just where Dr. McKay had been standing, sending the entire thing flying to the floor in a spectacular fountain of translucent shards. Two of them! Bates thought, looking around, wishing to hell he had more military and less scientists in the room.
Terrible and fierce, Lieutenant Ford began walking forward, firing. A staff blast hit him in the back; the energy flashed over his shoulders and down his body, then dissipated. Bates looked up, seeing the glow of the weapon, the face above it. Tarl'rac.
Thoughts of Jaffa card games and late-night jawing sessions flitted through Bates' mind as he got to his knees, straddling Dr. Weir's body, and fired his P-90. The bullets hit the Jaffa in the shoulder, and he tumbled down the stairs.
From the corner of his eye, Bates saw a body in Jaffa armor fly into the air, slamming against the window, leaving a dark smear as it slid to the floor. Ford's hand came down onto a console, and he slipped to his knees, then slowly got back up again.
Dr. McKay was already getting up, pulling at the console. "This cannot be happening. This cannot be happening!" he said, holding pieces in his hands, staring at the shattered innards.
"Just use one of the other consoles to trigger the shields," Dr. Weir said to him, pushing herself to her feet.
"It's not like the thing has a universal remote!" Dr. McKay shouted at her. "This is the control panel for the shields, and it's going to take me at least an hour to duct-tape it together until it'll work. Short answer: we're screwed."
"Then find another solution," Dr. Weir said, her voice low and steely.
Dr. McKay laughed incredulously. "Another solution? What do you think this is, a fairy tale?" Then he blinked, a stunned expression on his face. "Rapunzel. That's it," he said, and grabbed Dr. Jackson by the wrist. "Come on, Daniel. I need you to translate one more thing." As Dr. Jackson nodded, following at his heels, Dr. McKay said, "Kavanagh, fix the console. Elizabeth, make an announcement. Clear everyone out of the central tower."
"Why?" she called.
Dr. McKay waved his hands in frustration, as if he couldn't believe they were still having this conversation. "Because if we do this right, in about fifteen minutes it's all going to turn into one big weapon," he called over his shoulder, as he and Dr. Jackson ran full-tilt toward the teleporter.
As the Asian woman sat down at the Ancient communications console, hands shaking, Bates moved to the top of the stairs, aiming his gun down.
But there was nothing at the bottom but a smear of blood. Tarl'rac was gone.
– – –
"Colonel, the shield is down. Repeat, the shield is down. Doctor McKay and Doctor Jackson have gone to activate the weapon in the central tower." Doctor Weir's voice was urgent as it came over the tel'tak's communication system.
"Oh, hell," O'Neill said as they hurtled toward the city. "That puts a little crimp in our plan."
Teyla looked over the city, eyes wide, assessing the situation. "When I was a child, I was the best among my people at playing Wraith and Runner."
Jack banked the ship hard, trying to shake the Wraith on their tail. "I always got picked last for dodgeball. Your point?"
"I have an idea," Teyla said.
Jack banked again, skimming low over the water. "Sweet," he said.
– – –
Rodney and Daniel pelted down the hallway toward Ba'al's quarters, passing by Airman Jones, who was running toward the transporter, Dr. Heightmeyer at her heels. "Sirs, do you – "
"Go, go!" they yelled at her in unison. The two women kept running.
Daniel and Rodney hurtled through Ba'al's quarters, barely sparing a glance for the surroundings on their way to the tower teleporter. As they came toward it, the wall parted, and they slipped in.
"I hate this," Rodney said, scowling furiously as his fingers tapped a frantic rhythm. There was a brief shivery feeling, and then the door slid open, revealing a room Daniel had never seen before, with a desiccated female body in a chair in the middle, and big windows, sun so bright they just seemed like blocks of white. He wanted to look more closely at the corpse, analyze her clothing for more clues about the Ancients, but Rodney was already moving toward a computer console. "I really, really don't want to die again."
"Is that likely?" Daniel asked, following Rodney into the room, feeling Rodney's panic begin to rub off on him.
Rodney gestured with a thumb at the withered corpse. "Rapunzel over there figured out a way to turn this whole tower into a giant cannon. We might be able to take out that Wraith hive ship, but if we don't get out of here right after we hit the trigger, it'll be a Pyrrhic victory for the two of us." He slapped his hand against the console, and text spread across the screen. "Translate," he said.
Daniel translated, feeling adrenalin begin to rush through his body as the words flew out of his mouth. Rodney's hands danced over the Ancient machinery like he was playing a Mozart sonata.
– – –
The P-90 in Bates' hand made him feel whole again, like a security blanket. "I know you're under here, Tarl'rac," he called out. The area below the stairs was far darker than the gate room in the morning light, the stairs casting long shadows. Bates closed his eyes for five seconds to force his pupils to dilate, hoping to hell the Jaffa wasn't standing right there. "Give yourself up now. You're not going to get Ba'al back."
"Fine words from you," Tarl'rac's voice came from the blackness. "You made all of us think you were working with us. Instead, you got our trust only to betray us. Do you know what that makes you?"
Bates opened his eyes, making sure he was looking into the darkness. His stomach clenched. He tried to ignore it. "Smart," he said, slipping under the stairs.
"Shol'vah," Tarl'rac hissed. "Do you know what you could have become if you had worked with us?"
A slave with a snake in my gut, Bates thought to himself, but didn't say a word. He could make out Tarl'rac now, who was looking around for Bates, his face turned out, toward the windows. Bates kept his back against the wall, and slid inward, trying to get behind the Jaffa.
"Do you have any idea what you've done?" Tarl'rac shouted.
"Yeah," Bates whispered from behind him. Tarl'rac spun around, staff weapon in hand. "I won."
Before Tarl'rac could bring his staff weapon to bear, Bates unloaded the entire clip into him.
– – –
"It's not working! Why isn't it working?" Rodney asked, his fists clenching in frustration.
Daniel rested his hand on Rodney's shoulder. "Give me a minute," he said, looking over the information on the screen. He read it, then read it again to make sure he had it right. "It says there's a mental trigger."
"Oh, no," Rodney moaned.
"You can do it," Daniel said.
Rodney looked at him, eyes huge. "No, I can't! O'Neill can do it if he concentrates. Sheppard can do it without even thinking about it. But they have the gene. I've got a – it's a fake gene. Gene therapy. I can't do it."
"You can," Daniel said. This time, without even meaning to, it came out as a command. "Put your hands on those panels there," Daniel said, gesturing at the two pieces of white, hewn stone on the console. "And then just – close your eyes and think at it."
Rodney closed his eyes and breathed out. From the way his lips were pressing together, Daniel could tell he was ready to immediately claim failure. Daniel slid closer to Rodney, standing close to him until his chest was pressed against Rodney's shoulder. "You can do this," he said quietly, running one hand rhythmically down Rodney's spine and up again to calm him. "Just let yourself sink into it. Breathe deeply and slowly, and let yourself drop down."
Daniel kept up the patter, a low constant lulling murmur. The strain at the corner of Rodney's eyes smoothed out; gravity stopped tugging the corner of his mouth down. He looked intent but there was an air of calm, of focus. Then his eyebrows drew together in confusion, his lips parting a little bit as he slowly breathed out.
Rodney's sudden gasp made Daniel jump. His eyes flew open, full of anger and fear. "Run!" he said urgently, shoving Daniel toward the transporter.
Daniel lunged forward, taking a breath to ask Rodney what was going on. Before he had a chance to breathe out, to take a second step, gravity twisted, and the transporter flew away from them.
"No!" Rodney yelled, as Daniel found himself spinning. He was falling toward the wall. Why was he falling toward the wall? He reached an arm out to try to steady himself, and screamed when first his hand, then his shoulder hit the wall with all of his weight behind them, an agonizing loud snap rattling through his body with each impact.
– – –
The tel'tak wove between the towers of Atlantis, the Wraith dart in hot pursuit. "Hang on!" Jack shouted. The ship shot straight up, flying along the limned central tower like a racecar at the Indy 500.
"Is this part of your plan?" Teyla asked over the whine of machinery.
"Yeah," Jack said. "Go back there and get your people ready. You know what to do."
As Teyla rushed back to the cargo compartment, the tel'tak hovered over the top of the central tower. Jack wished it had one of those message screens at the bottom, like the SpectraVision at hockey games. Instead, he tried to put a little zing into his hover, a little taunting nyah nyah nyah nyah nyah nyah.
The Wraith ship spiraled around one of the city's lower spires, then turned and headed toward him.
– – –
"Oh," Daniel groaned, rolling onto his back. Rodney was crumpled on the floor beside him, making little whimpering noises and holding his knee. Behind it all, there was a low whining noise.
Rodney was speaking between moans now, cursing between gritted teeth. "She set up a trap. I should have known it. I should have seen it." He touched a hand to his temple, leaving a streak of blood behind. "There was something in there…I felt something slip out…"
"What?" Daniel said, pushing himself up with his one good arm, wincing at the pain. Endorphins were racing through his system, trying to fight the pain down. The low whining was getting higher, louder.
"Rapunzel," Rodney said, pointing at the corner where the Ancient woman's dessicated body was crumpled, mostly dust and bone surrounded by scraps of fabric, her teeth still grinning at them. "She figured whoever shut her up here would come here to use her weapon sooner or later. She wanted to save the city, but kill them when she did it. She made sure they couldn't get out." His eyes were bleak as he looked up at Daniel. "I'm sorry."
"Come on," Daniel said, pulling Rodney to his feet, slinging one of the physicist's arms over his shoulders, choking down a cry of pain until it was nothing but a strangled gasp. He looked up at the ceiling, where the transporter hung thirty feet above them. "We'll – we'll get you on my shoulders, grab one of the consoles and – "
"Daniel," Rodney said flatly, and shook his head. "There's no time."
Daniel was about to tell Rodney not to be pessimistic when he felt the hot tingling begin to wash over his skin.
"I'm sorry," Rodney said desolately. "I shouldn't have dragged you out here. I should have left you back on Earth."
A crazy grin spread over Daniel's face; his body was racing with useless adrenalin. "I wouldn't have missed it for the world," he said, and realized it was true. "And we saved the city, right?"
"Right." Rodney laughed, then winced in a way that told Daniel he'd probably broken a rib. Not that it mattered, now; the walls were beginning to glow. "Well, if you ever wanted to promise me 'til death do us part', now would be the perfect time."
It was almost too bright to see. "Will it hurt?" Daniel asked quietly, barely audible over the high-pitched keening of the tower.
Rodney nodded shortly, stiff in that way he got when he was scared. "For a second, probably." His wide blue eyes were almost clear in a face washed pale by the white light. He reached up and pulled Daniel's head down toward his, kissing him desperately. Daniel kissed him back with equal fierceness, knowing it was the last thing he would ever do, wanting to make it count.
There was a loud crashing noise, and their arms tightened around each other. A tingling washed over Daniel's body.
To his surprise, it didn't hurt at all.
– – –
Teyla stood at the console, sliding levers just as O'Neill had told her to. Her people stood behind her, as many as could fit into the cabin, tense and silent, watching the screen as she did. They rushed away from Atlantis, moving sharply toward the sky just before the Wraith dart came in range. As it turned and looped to follow them, the brightening central tower suddenly seemed to come alight with a shimmer of rippling fire, racing upward.
The Wraith saw it, too. She could see the ship twist, try to veer off. But it was too late, even for Wraith reflexes. It flared and burst, catching fire and vanishing like a moth that had spun too close to a candle flame.
Atlantis became ever tinier on the screen, the bolt of energy from it shooting away from them, toward the threatening silver arrowhead of the Wraith ship. Gold washed over silver, consuming it, then rushing beyond, leaving nothing in its wake.
As the people behind her began cheering, she heard O'Neill's sharp intake of breath. "It didn't even retarde," he said, watching as it continued out into space, toward the fleet that lay beyond.
The light flared brighter as it began racing over the two star fleets locked in battle, whiting out the tel'tak's screen.
– – –
"Peter, give me something. Anything!" Elizabeth said, leaning over Grodin's shoulder.
He shook his head. "I'm sorry, ma'am. The blast has blinded the sensors."
Elizabeth kept a tight clamp on her own emotions, even though she wanted to scream in fear and frustration. Their headsets were down, the sensors were down – they were blind, and she didn't know what was happening to her people. She looked out the windows behind the Stargate for a moment, as if the view beyond would tell her something.
"Hang on," Kavanagh said, abandoning his work on the shields to turn toward a different console. "I'm going to try to maneuver a satellite from the other side of the planet into polar orbit." After a few seconds, the central monitor flared to life with a view of a starfield, broad and almost empty. A gas giant could be seen in the near left corner.
"No. This can't be right," Kavanagh said, looking at the screen. "There were - there were two fleets there just a minute ago."
"Increase magnification," Elizabeth said. The stars zoomed toward them, expanding – but there was nothing else there.
"Ma'am," Miko said quietly, walking toward the screen. "There should be a moon, right here." She pointed.
Kavanagh zoomed down and to the left, where her finger was pointing. It seemed empty, but…"Is that debris?" Elizabeth asked.
Kavanagh tapped a few buttons. "I can't zoom in any more. But – I think those are parts of Goa'uld motherships."
"Hang on," Peter said, his voice clipped and smooth. "Communications are coming back up. I have a transmission from one of Atlantis' outlying satellites."
The starfield was replaced by a view of the Atlantean world, from a great distance. In the near foreground, almost obscuring the planet, the Wraith and Goa'uld fleets crashed against each other, energy bolts flaring as they fired, small ships buzzing around them like stinging mosquitoes and wasps. Without warning, a wave of white gold passed over them, dissolving ships as it touched them. The light grew bigger, expanding to fill the whole screen. Then the picture went black.
Peter's calm British veneer seemed to be thinning. "That camera was placed on one of the moons orbiting the fifth planet, the very same moon Miko said we should have seen from our cameras. That debris might be from other Goa'uld ships that were hiding behind it."
The entire room fell silent. Then Kavanagh blurted out, "He blew up a moon?" He turned to Elizabeth, his finger stabbing at the screen. "You can't just blow up a moon! It's going to alter the gravitational field of the planet it was orbiting around, and that could change the ecology of this entire star system! It's…it's…irresponsible!"
"When Doctor McKay comes back, I will tell him that he's grounded for a month and take away all of his TV privileges until he promises not to do it again, Dr. Kavanagh!" Elizabeth shouted back, slamming her palms on the top of the console in front of her. Kavanagh took two steps back. "And I will also thank him for saving this city from the Goa'uld and the Wraith, and giving you the time you need to get our shields up!"
"Ma'am," Peter said quietly from where he sat. "There's something you should see."
"Onscreen," Elizabeth said, clipped as if she'd bitten off the end of the syllable.
The black was replaced by a sweeping view of Atlantis, fairy towers reaching into the sky, ocean sparkling beneath. In the center, the tallest tower should have been reaching for the sunrise. Instead, it had been amputated. The top of what was left was smoldering.
She looked back to Peter. "But they...?"
He shook his head. "I'm sorry. The tower's been demolecularized to about two levels below Ba'al's quarters. Even if they could have gotten out of that room, I don't think they could have made it to a transporter in time."
Her shoulders tensed up, hunching in toward her chest, too late to defend her against this blow. "Can you contact Colonel O'Neill?" she said to Miko quietly.
Miko nodded, bending her head to the Ancient console. "Colonel O'Neill. Colonel O'Neill, please respond."
There was a faint hiss of static from the speakers. Then, echoing as if from down a long corridor, they heard O'Neill say, "Atlantis, mission conficiare. In spades."
The entire room erupted in cheers. Peter grabbed Miko around the waist, spinning her in a circle. Elizabeth could see Kate Heightmeyer locked in a hug with three other people. Even Kavanagh was whooping, pumping a fist into the air.
Elizabeth turned away, blinking rapidly so no one would see the tears that momentarily filled her eyes. "Glad to hear it, Colonel. We look forward to your swift return." Her voice betrayed no hint of her turbulent emotions.
"So do we," he replied. "It's a little crowded in here. But we've got a couple of fiare you're gonna want to see."
– – –
The tingling swept over Daniel, the crashing noise echoed through his ears a second time, and suddenly the energy wave raising all the hairs on his body seemed to dissipate.
Huh, he thought, still kissing Rodney, wondering if somehow his brain was extending the last seconds of his life into infinity.
He heard an intake of breath, a giggle, and then loud cheers.
"I don't think we're alone," Rodney said against his lips.
They both opened their eyes, looking around, suddenly feeling more than a little awkward. People stood on boxes and crates at the edge of the room, hugging each other and jumping up and down. The walls were washed in gold and chased with symbols, a familiar look.
"This looks a little…Goa'uldy," Daniel said.
There was a look of dismay on Rodney's face, rapidly changing to anger. "If Ba'al really is a god, I want my money back."
They looked toward the doorway of the room they were in; a crowd of bodies were packed there, like passengers on a Japanese subway train. The throng began moving, coming in to the room. Only then did Daniel notice the broad circle on the floor. Everyone in the room, he realized, had been standing well clear of its perimeter.
The ripples of crowd movement changed suddenly, and the people parted to admit a slender, strong woman.
"Congratulations," Teyla smiled at them. "It is good to see you both."
Daniel felt his jaw drop open. "You…how did you…" Rodney stammered beside him.
"Colonel O'Neill brought the ship close enough to the top of the tower to beam you both away," she said. She appraised them with a look and then moved forward, smoothly slipping between them to take Rodney's leaning weight off Daniel's shoulder. "Come. See what you have accomplished."
"Did we do it?" Rodney said as they moved forward. The people crowding around them – Teyla's people, Daniel realized – backed away enough to avoid jostling Daniel's injured arm, something he silently thanked them for. "I mean, it was supposed to be a pretty powerful weapon."
"Ain tu," O'Neill said, turning around toward them with a slightly sardonic smile. Behind him, the screen showed a starfield spreading wide before them, a watery planet taking up part of the view. Daniel rocked back on his heels, staring, all pain forgotten.
"The Wraith ship is gone!" Rodney said jubilantly.
"As is their entire fleet, and Anubis' fleet as well," Teyla said.
"And a moon," O'Neill said.
"A – wait. I blew up a moon? It wasn't supposed to be that powerful," Rodney exclaimed, turning to Daniel. "Daniel, are you hearing this?"
Daniel shook his head. "No, not really," he said, still staring at the screen.
"What?" Rodney said, looking at it, then back at Daniel.
Daniel smiled. "You know, I came halfway across the galaxy, but I've never been in space before."
Rodney turned back to the screen, eyes full of wonder. "Come to think of it, neither have I."
"Nor I," Teyla said, tilting her head, a thoughtful look on her face. "I have been to many planets, but always through the Stargate."
"Trust me," O'Neill said. "It gets old real fast."
– – –
Epilogue
The Ancient text was whirling in front of Rodney's eyes. Sometimes it did that on its own, but he had the feeling that this time around, it was a user problem and not a design feature. He looked out the window for a moment, at the glimmering reflection of the stars in the ocean, hoping that would remedy his eye fatigue. Then he stared again at the instructions O'Neill had left behind, just before they froze him, for building another ZPM. The words settled out for a moment, then began to blur.
He desperately tried to focus. He'd felt something slip out of the computer system in the tower when he was linked to it, brush by him angrily like the quarterback bully at his high school, and he needed to figure out where it was, to corner it before it hurt someone. His hands were starting to shake with exhaustion and panic.
Damn it, he couldn't have this happen. Not now. He needed to figure this out. He couldn't afford to be tired, or scared.
He fumbled in his pocket for the bottle of pills, pulled it out, and popped off the top, shaking one into the palm of his hand. He balanced it on his thumbnail, and then flicked it up, tilting back his head to catch it in his mouth, looking forward to feeling awake again, looking forward to feeling ten feet tall and six different kinds of bulletproof.
Just above his head, a hand swept through the air right over his face, grabbing the bright yellow tablet. Daniel's hand. Rodney closed his eyes and sighed.
"Rodney, you need rest," he said.
"I had rest," Rodney snapped. "I died ten hours ago."
He could hear Daniel smiling. "Death isn't a substitute for sleep. No REM state." He paused for a second, then said a little too casually, "How long have you been taking these things, anyway?"
"You're the last person to lecture me on this," Rodney said, turning back to his computer. He didn't want to look at Daniel; he was feeling uncomfortable enough as it was. "The breadth and depth of your pharmaceutical knowledge would astound Timothy Leary."
"Yes, but I learned most of that while I was in college, with a self destructive streak a mile wide," Daniel said.
"Like that changed when you graduated. Look, I'm doing it for practical reasons. I need to keep Atlantis safe," Rodney said, trying to make the text on the computer screen stay still.
Daniel sat on the edge of the table, taking Rodney's hand in his good one. "It's safe. You saved the city."
"You don't understand," Rodney said, shaking his head, looking up at Daniel for the first time since he'd entered the room. Shock stopped his tirade. "What the hell happened to your hair?" he said sharply.
Daniel ran his hand over his newly shorn scalp; his other arm was in a cast, a sling around his neck. His hair was about an inch long on top, a little bit closer on the sides. The front was sticking up slightly; the haircut seemed to emphasize all the cowlicky, unruly bits. "It turns out Jones thought about being a hairdresser before she joined the Air Force," he said with a little wry smile. "You like it?"
Rodney shook his head. You look like a sheep after shearing season, he thought, already missing all the hair he used to run his fingers through, but what came out of his mouth was, "Why?"
Daniel opened his mouth, licked his lips, and then looked away uncomfortably, in a way that made Rodney wonder how many times Ba'al had run his fingers through Daniel's soft hair, or tangled his fingers in it as he forced Daniel to –
"I like it already," he said, determined that within a day that statement wouldn't be a lie anymore. He was suddenly really seeing Daniel, seeing the dark circles under red-rimmed eyes squinty with fatigue, the lines between his eyebrows that told Rodney that any painkillers they'd given him hadn't alleviated the discomfort from the broken collarbone or the broken wrist.
"You need sleep," Daniel said, and underneath, Rodney heard what Daniel was really saying. I need sleep, and I won't get it if you're not there. Maybe he'd really been saying it for years.
Rodney took the fingertips of Daniel's injured hand gently, feeling some of the panic drain off. Whatever had slipped by him hadn't destroyed the city yet, and if it tried, all the amphetamines on Atlantis weren't going to give Rodney the edge he needed to beat it. Besides, he'd marked off this night for sleep. "My place or yours?" he asked Daniel with a slanty smile.
Daniel scratched a spot behind his ear. "I don't exactly have a place right now. We sort of blew it up."
Rodney stood up, wincing as pain shot through his bad knee. He was about to slap Daniel on the shoulder when he remembered the collarbone, and instead slid his arm down Daniel's back. Daniel's good arm draped over Rodney's shoulder, and Rodney's hand fitted automatically over Daniel's hip. "Every time you get in trouble, you wind up staying with me. You've got those Breathe-Right strips to keep from snoring, right?"
"I don't snore," Daniel said, as they walked down the hall.
"Yes, you do. I should know. I'm the one you wake up in the middle of the night."
Daniel snorted. "You wake yourself up when you talk in your sleep."
They kept up the banter all the way back to their room, but Rodney couldn't shake the feeling that someone was watching them.
– – –
Daniel preferred to sleep on his side, but the collarbone made that impossible; on his left side it was excruciating, and on his right, the pressure was awkward enough to make it uncomfortable. He lay flat on his back. Rodney sprawled beside him, arm draped over Daniel's waist, breathing slowly settling toward sleep. Maybe tomorrow there would be sex, gentle and awkward because of all their injuries; tonight, all they needed was to touch.
"I think I was in love with him," Daniel said, whispering what he could only admit to the dark.
Rodney's arm wrapped around Daniel a little tighter, and he scooted closer. "You wouldn't be you if you hadn't," he said muzzily, with one calm sentence cutting through the giant Gordian knot of self-recrimination and shame in Daniel's chest. He kissed Daniel on the shoulder. "Get some sleep."
This time, as Rodney's breathing slowed and deepened, Daniel's slowly settled with it, drifting long and low as he fell asleep.
– – –
Sharra watched them from inside the system, the one who had christened her "Rapunzel" and his lover. The sharp, acid one intrigued her. He felt Ancient, but not; like her, his goal was to keep the city safe, at all costs. His brain was not primitive, only his knowledge, and she could fix that. If he could see her side, if she could make him understand, what a team they could be!
She looked at how he held the other one, remembering dimly how skin had felt on skin, millennia ago, when she'd still had a body, before she'd been trapped. She had no body now, but…
If she'd had the body she so missed, she would have rested her chin on her hands, and her eyes would have narrowed. Hmmmm, she thought, studying the lover, face intent even in sleep, the soft one who could unexpectedly turn to ice.
An idea was beginning to take shape in her mind. She stealthily slipped her consciousness out to the systems of Atlantis, away from their rooms, taking up a bit of CPU time here, a few terabytes of memory there – nothing enough to be noticed, dispersing herself just enough to stay below their radar. She would watch for now, and plan, and find ways to keep her city safe.
In the dark, Daniel and Rodney slept on.