Wraith Calling
Who: McKay, Todd, Sheppard, Ronon, Beckett, Weir, Emmagan, Open!
What: Todd sends Atlantis a message
Where: Control Room
When: March 18, 2008 — 07:20 Atlantis Standard Time
Rating: TBA
Status: Incomplete
“Atlantis, this is Captain Gero, do you read?” a calm voice said. Well good, it didn’t sound like an emergency, even though that team had only left about twenty minutes ago …
Rodney pulled up the image on the screen. “Ah, yeah, we read you, Gero. What’s up?”
Gero’s face was bland, but Rodney had the disticnt impression that the younger man was rolling his eyes mentally. “The people here say that a Wraith came recently and left a message for Colonel Sheppard. Didn’t kill anybody, either — in fact, he left them a sack of food, supposedly as payment for their cooperation. They say that they’ve talked to traders who have been to other worlds where a Wraith of the same description has done the same thing.”
“Well, what’s the message?” Rodney asked, curious — and worried that it was Michael. With any luck, it was a wraith negotiating for the release of Schorin — let him be someone else’s problem.
Gero bit his lip. “The message is for Colonel Sheppard, sir.”
Rodney rolled his eyes out loud. “Oh for pete’s sake, Captain — these villagers know the message, yes?”
Gero pursed his lips, then nodded. “They say this Wraith wants to propose an alliance of some kind, something to do with Dr Beckett’s retrovirus. He said he would be back to see if we leave an answer. We choose the place and time to meet, and we should feel free to come as armed and in as many numbers as we wish — and expect that he will do the same. His only condition is that Sheppard and Dr Beckett both be present.”
Retrovirus? great, it probably was Michael. “Peachy. Stay on the line, Groening, and I’ll get Sheppard in here.”
“Gero, sir.”
“What?”
“My name — it’s Gero, sir.”
“Fine, fine,” Mckay sighed, and turned away, tapping his radio. “Sheppard, I need you in the control room.”
Tales from the Lost City Found 
“So, you want me to spy on her?” Ronon asked as he engaged Sheppard in a series of strikes and parries, forcing the Colonel to act fast or risk a blow to the head from the Satedan’s wooden practice sword.
“No, no,” John said as they broke apart, trying to catch his breath. “I’m just saying talk to her. That’s all.”
“Why?” Ronon asked in twirling his sword around like some sort of demented super samurai.
“Because, she won’t tell me and I’m just curious. That’s all,” John said in walking over to pick up his towel and wiping his forehead with it. “I know she’s got her eye on someone, I was just wondering who,” he shrugged in tossing the towel back down on the bench.
“Does it really matter?”
“No, not really,” John nearly squeaked as he narrowly ducked Ronon’s overhead swing.
The sounds of wood striking wood came rapid fire as the two men sparred furiously in the gym. Compared to the bantos sessions with Teyla, those with Ronon were fiece, unpredicatible and unforgiving; where as Teyla was more cool and calculated.
“All I’m saying is,” John said as their encounter ended with each man on the opposite side of the gym, “If she hadn’t been so damn elusive about it, I wouldn’t be so…”
“Nosey,” Ronon offered.
“I was thinking of a different word.”
“Do you tell us everything that goes on in your personal life?”
“Well… no.”
“Okay then.”
“I hate it when you’re the sensible one,” John said as he and Ronon squared off.
Again, it was a quick exchange. John countered, parried, faked left and went right — right into body shot to his midsection which caused him to double over followed by the hilt of Ronon’s practice sword colliding with his chin.
John saw little birdies flying around his head as he lay on his back on the gym floor.
“Sheppard? Sheppard?” John heard a voice calling him. “You okay? How many fingers?”
“Twelve,” he groaned. “Yeah, I’m fine,” he said as he took Ronon’s outstretched hand and was helped up. Funny thing was, he still heard someone calling him in a teenie-weenie little voice.
John shook his head, to disperse the birds and ward off his stupor.
Radio, he then thought in having a eureaka moment.
“You know, if you practiced as much as you talk…”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” John said in waving Ronon off, going back over to the bench to retreive his radio from his gym bag.
Pulling the tiny unit out, he tucked it around his left ear and tapped it to respond. “What’s up Rodney?”
“The team that went out this morning just dialed in — Captain Geronimo says that there’s a Wraith who’s been leaving calling cards all over the galaxy, trying to get in touch with you. You might wanna come down here and talk to Geraldo. Oh, and could you bring a cup of coffee? I’m out. Oh, and chocolate chip muffin! I’m starving, and Chuck’s not here at the moment, so I can’t leave.”
“Gero,” John corrected as Rodney continued without missing a beat. Although he didn’t know why he bothered since Rodney would promptly forget again anyway. Case in point, “Geraldo.”
“Really? There’s a Wraith looking for me — personally?” John asked in glancing over at Ronon who was putting away the practice swords, giving the Satedan a semi-impressed shrugged. “Guess they finally realized I’m more of a threat than they thought,” he said full of puffed up bravado and smiled smuggly.
Ronon snorted in derision and came over to stand beside Sheppard. If someone, especially a Wraith, was gunning for his CO and friend, it automatically became his business.
“What am I McKay, your errand boy? Buck up and suffer through it. Tell Gero to sit tight, I’m on my way,” John announced in grabbing his bag and heading out the door with Ronon right behind him.
It wasn’t much longer that the two men were jogging up the stairs to the Control Room.
“Okay, what’s up?” John asked as he walked over to where Rodney was near a vid screen, pulling a Power Bar out his bag and tossing it to McKay. “Give me a sit-rep Captain.”
Rodney scowled when John told him to buck up and suffer. The radio was already switched off, but that didn’t stop him from mumbling to himself. “Oh nice, Sheppard! I’d do it for you, and you’re not even hypoglycaemic! Don’t come crying to me if the city falls apart because I’m in a coma!” Well, probably not, but only because Rodney was a very busy man most of the time. He was the type to bring donuts for everyone if he happened to be stopping at the mess anyway, though. Well, so long as there were enough donuts to go around. Well, okay, he really was just bringing plenty to make sure he had as many as he wanted through the day, but he didn’t begrudge people taking any unless there was only one or two … okay, or three left. But he had brought Zelenka coffee plenty of times! Of course, it was in his own best interest to keep his staff well-caffinated ….
He was still scowling when Sheppard and Ronon arrived, then immediately brightened when Sheppard through him a power bar. It was even his favourite flavour! But powerbars were dry eating. “I don’t suppose you’ve got some water on you at least?”
Gero stood at attention when Sheppard’s voice came over the radio. “Sir, the villagers here report that a small squadron of Wraith arrived three days ago. They didn’t cull or even attack anyone, though they did bring their stunners to bear. Their leader asked them to give ‘the one called Colonel Sheppard’ a message if they could, and gave them food as a token of good faith. Like I told Dr McKay here, they apparently want to form some sort of alliance in regard to development of Dr Beckett’s retrovirus. We choose the time and place to meet, and bring whatever reinforcements we see fit — and they’ll do the same. He said they’d be back every three days to see if there’s been a reply. Oh, and the leader apparently said to remind you that he ‘could have kept the life he took from you, but gave your years back to you’ — he ‘hopes that you will see that the Wraith, too, are as varied as humans, with a potential for trust and honour.’ The villagers describe him as having a star-like tattoo around his left eye. Sound familiar?”
Rodney boggled. “I thought you were talking about Michael!” It just figured that the grunt wouldn’t give him the whole message …. “So what did you name this one, Sheppard?”
“Yeah, in the bag,” John replied dismissively as he listened to Gero’s report.
It all sounded very out of the ordinary and he cast a glance at Ronon. “You ever hear of Wraith doing something like this?”
“No,” was Ronon’s curt and simple reply.
“Thought so,” John commented, expecting at much.
He chewed his bottom lip absently as he contemplated the meaning behind the Wraith not culling anyone and giving the villagers food as he waited for the shoe to drop. And when it did, it wasn’t something he expected.
“The retrovirous?” he pressed his mouth together as he had a sinking feeling, his thoughts automatically turning to Michael.
Then the other shoe dropped and John’s eyebrows shot way up his forehead.
“That sounds like…,” Ronon started to say.
“Yeah, it does,” John finished for him. “Well, this is unexpected,” he commented and nodded an affirmative. “If it’s who I think it is, yeah, I know him.”
“Okay, Captain, remain on the planet and complete your mission. I’ll contact you later regarding the message to relay to the villagers. But if things start going south, get your team through the gate ASAP. Sheppard out.”
“I don’t like it,” Ronon announced. “It could be a trap.”
“That’s always a possibility,” John confirmed. “But we need to inform Elizabeth and discuss a plan,” he announced and turned to McKay.
“I didn’t have time to name him, Rodney. I was too busy with the whole life sucking and escaping thing,” he said some mild annoyance as Chuck returned to the control room.
“Sergeant, notify Dr. Weir, Dr. Beckett, and Teyla to meet us in the conference room,” John ordered in motion for his team members to follow and started to walk off before hesitating for a moment. “Oh, and have someone send up some doughnuts, muffins, and coffee,” he added just for McKay’s benefit and headed across the way to the conference room.
“Yes, sir,” Chuck complied and went about fulfilling his duties in notifying everyone as well as arranging for the requested snack and beverage items.
“It seems you’ve gotten popular, Colonel. Do we know what this Wraith wants? And why he asked for you, specifically?”
Dr. Weir was seated amongst the others in the conference room. Being in this room always made her stomach tight, not surprising given the circumstances. What was surprising is that the feeling was still with her even after all they’d been through.
Elizabeth had only gotten a briefing on the matter. All she knew was that a Wraith “phoned-in” specifically for John. It wasn’t something that happened every day. Then again, was anything that happened around here something would happen everyday?
“Well, how about Ace?” Rodmey suggested. “Cause with all that leather and that tattoo around his eye, he’s kinda like Ace Freely. You know, from Kiss?”
“Hey, maybe we should try that Genii trick you came up with again,” Rodney suggested as they made their way to the conference room. “You know, where we have the cloaked jumpers overhead? Ooh, or maybe we should choose a planet without a gate, and get the Daedalus stay cloaked in orbit, to beam us out if things get hairy!” Rodney added, snapping his fingers excitedly. “That’d make it harder for the Wraith to call in reinforcements, too!”
As they waited for Carson, Teyla, and Elizabeth, someone brought a platter of breakfast breads, including the chocolate chip and cream cheese crossaints he so loved. “Ohmygod! I’m fixing it so that even if no one else has hot water, Chuck will have it, even if I have to order him his own hot water heater ….” His eyes fluttered and he moaned as he tore into one, grabbing a second for good measure. “Hey, Elizabeth, hey Carson,” he called in greeting as they came into the room. Or rather, “HHH, Miheh, hhh, arnn!” seeing as his mouth was stuffed full, sliciting a reprimand from Carson for himnot to talk with his mouth full. (Well, at least he hadn’t opened it to speak.) And it was still full when Elizabeth asked Sheppard her questions, so for one, he didn’t break in and answer himself.
“We can name him later,” John said as he walked across to the conference room, trying to get Rodney to focus on the problem at hand.
“What’s Kiss?” Ronon asked.
“Don’t encourage him,” John shushed the Satedan as he walked into the room and took his customary seat.
Ronon just shrugged and took a seat as well.
“Yeah, I was thinking that,” John remarked about the cloaked jumpers as McKay continued to ramble. “Rodney, the Daedalus doesn’t have a cloak unless you’re volunteering to install one. Even then, she’d lose her shields when the cloak was enabled. All it would take would be one lucky shot from a Wraith cruiser and she’d be in serious trouble,” he pointed out as the pastries and other things arrived.
Ronon leaned across the table to examine the platter that was brought in and sniffed at it before making a sour face and sitting back. No meat, so none of it appealed to him.
As everyone else arrived and got settled, the meeting officially got underway when Elizabeth started posing her questions. And thank god for small miracles with McKay having his mouth full to prevent him from answering for Sheppard.
“Maybe he missess my company — wants to reconnect, create a Hallmark moment,” John shrugged as he sat back in his chair.
“Maybe he just wants to do the job right this time,” Ronon said in putting his own two cents in.
John glanced at him and shrugged. Anything was possible.
“If this Wraith is who I think it is,” John said in leaning forward and placing his arms on the table, clasping his hands in front of him. “It’s the one I worked with to escape from Kolya. As for what he wants specifically, I don’t know. But it involves the retrovirus and he asked for me and Carson specifically. The only way we’ll know for sure is to meet with him — and I recommend that it be on our terms.”
Elizabeth also clasped her hands in front of her, leaning on her elbows. As John continued his comments, obviously already deciding that they were actually going to meet this Wraith, she raised her hands to her mouth steepling her fingers and looking at John over them.
“Retrovirus,” she stated, confused. “Why would a Wraith be interested in a retrovirus? And are you sure this meeting is completely safe, Colonel? We’ve been deceived by the Wraith before.”
((OOC: The Odyssey has a cloak in AoT — was that one of the Asgard additions from Unending then?))
Rodney blinked at John’s statement about the Daedalus‘s lack of a cloak, and how the cloak couldn’t be used in conjunction with a shield. “Didn’t I mention? Zelenka and I have been working on a way to hook up five puddle-jumpers to a naquadah generator in the ship’s hangar bay, combining all the cloaks into one big one that can reach outside of the Daedalus!” he revealed excitedly. “Then the Daedalus keeps it’s own shield! I mean, we have 20 puddle-jumpers, we can spare five for one mission! Well, eight — two to keep cloaked on the planet with us, and one for us to actually arrive in.”
“A weapon,” Rodney suggested at Elizabeth’s question. “Like the last time the Wraith asked to work with us.”
“As I recall, Rodney, that didnae work out too well for us — especially you!” Carson pointed out. “And I’m not going to turn wraith into humans just so they can be fed off of. Beside, the last thing we need is to risk creating another Michael if sommat goes wrong!”
(OOC: Remember the game’s timeline. We haven’t gone into season 4. Sam hasn’t been put in charge of Atlantis, Weir was never injured, we haven’t even seen the Apolo yet, Atlantis is still on Lantea, and the war with the Ori is still being waged.)
“No, Rodney, you failed to mention that,” John said in regards to McKay’s and Zelenka’s latest project.
He shook his slowly as he sat back, leaning on the right arm of his chair. “No, that’s committing too many resources and personel. What if this is a ruse to lure us away while the Wraith attack Atlantis? With me and Carson out of the way, who’s going to fire the drones? And if the Deadalus is other wise engaged, we’ve lost our direct defensive capabilites against the Hive ships.”
John turned to face Elizabeth when she asked her questions. “No, I’m not completely sure the meeting’s safe,” he stated bluntly. “That’s why I’m suggesting it be on our terms, not the Wraith’s. We set up the time and the place. We give them a time to meet us — and if we should happen to get there a few hours early…,” he arched an eyebrow suggestively.
“Look the point is, we won’t know what they want with the retrovirus until we meet with them. All I need is two — maybe three — cloaked jumpers and two squads of Marines. We can set the meeting up on that planet where we caught Steve. There’s pleanty of ruins there to set up a defensive perimeter near the gate and the area is inaccessible by ship. The Wraith will be forced to come in on foot. It worked once, there’s no reason to think it wouldn’t work again.”
Weir shifted uncomfortably. She didn’t like the idea of meeting the Wraith at all. But Weir also read the reports from John on his time with the Wraith in question. There was a bond she knew existed between prisoners and the fact that John and the Wraith had experienced it gave her at least some faith, but not much.
She took a breath and sat for a moment mulling over the information. She crossed her arms on her chest signaling that she wasn’t happy with the decision she had to make. She furrowed her brow.
Finally she uncrossed her arms and leaned on the table again, toward John.
“What do we get out of this meeting?” she finally asked before agreeing with the meeting entirely. “Is he offering some sort of alliance? Exchange of information?”
Remaining silent for now, Teyla listened as McKay, Sheppard and Weir hashed the merits of meeting a Wraith. It was clear the idea did not sit well with Ronon, and to be honest, neither did it with Teyla.
While that particular Wraith had kept his end of the bargain, a bargain struck between he and Sheppard under duress, there was nothing now that indicated the Wraith would not return to his usual nature.
Granted, they had not culled those villages where they had left their calling card, but Teyla had seen the Wraith in the past exert themselves to forward planning for a later high payoff. This could be such an exercise.
As Elizabeth asked the very question burning Teyla’s tongue, Teyla turned her gaze on Sheppard.
“He’s offering an alliance, but we won’t know exactly what we’ll get out of it until we meet with him. Look, I know we’ve been burned on proposed Wraith alliances before,” John said in leaning forward, throwing a quick glance in Ronon’s direction who expressed his feelings about it all with a snort of derision. “But if we don’t like the terms,” he continued undaunted. “We walk away.”
“And how do you propose we do that?” Ronon asked. “If this is a set up, they’re not just going to let us go.”
“Ooookay,” John conceeded. “So, we might have to fight our way out just a little. Since when did you ever back down from a chance to kill some Wraith?”
“I’m not,” Ronon countered. “I’m just saying I don’t like this. I don’t trust them,” he said in looking pointedly at Weir.
“Well, I don’t trust them either. The point is, we get to the meeting spot ahead of time, secure the area, plant some C4, and place the Marines in strategic concealment locations around the ruins. That way, if the meeting does go south, we blow the C4 and take out as many Wraith as possible while the jumpers cover our six on our way to the Stargate. Rodney can devise a preprogrammed dialing sequence for the DHD to automatically dial the gate by remote, like that emergency beam out transponder you created a year ago,” John said in turning to face McKay.
Naturally, he didn’t bother to consult with Rodney about it nor ask if he could even do it. John just automatically assumed he could. After all, he’d seen the man literally do the impossible.
“But even before we meet with the Wraith, HUD’s on the jumpers will let us know if any ships arrive in orbit and how many. Plus — we’ve got Teyla,” John turned to look at her with a confident smile. “She’ll be able to sense them coming well before we ever see them. And if it appears there’s more of them than we bargained for, the meeting’s off. I scrub the mission and we all come home before the Wraith ever make planet fall.”
((OOC: It’s not the timeline I’m struggling with — I just hadn’t realised the ships didn’t have the cloaks from the very beginning is all, hence my asking if they were Asgard additions then. My bad! ^^))
Rodney had to admit Sheppard had a point about spreading resources too thin. “Well, maybe I should stay behind, then. I can operate the chair better than Carson anyway.”
“Hey!” Carson protested. “I’ll have you know that–”
“Your gene is stronger than mine, yes, but that doesn’t mean you’re better at using it. Don’t complain, Carson — you hate having to fire the drones anyway, right?”
Carson didn’t have a rebuttal for that. Wait, yes he did: “Lorne’s gene is stronger than yours, and he’s better at using it; by your logic, he’s the one who should stay behind, and you should fly one of the jumpers.”
“Lorne doesn’t have a half-dozen experiments he’s working on here, either,” Rodney said with a scowl.
“Oh, shall Sheppard remove yeh from active duty, then?” Carson asked with a grin.
“No!” Rodney said hurriedly. “All right, all right, you made your point. If Sheppard thinks he needs me to greet the natives, I’ll go. Hell, this Wraith may have some technological issue to discuss, so it’s probably for the better. Zelenka can handle things for a few hours ….”
Rodney shrugged at Sheppard’s suggestion. “It shouldn’t be too difficult to adjust a portable DHD to give it a chicken switch. You do realise, though, that if whoever is holding the device is caught, and the Wraith search them, find the device, and figure out what it is, they’ll have a free pass to Atlantis. At least in other circumstances where they capture us, they’d still need a ‘Gate address…”
A smile pulled at Teyla’s mouth. John always managed to make Teyla’s Wraith radar sound like winning the big prize.
Sobering, Teyla shifted. Sheppard relied on her and, since Schorin, Teyla hated to trust her gift so fully. Some Wraith were indeed telepathically quiet. But in this instance, it was not the appearance of one Wraith she needed to be able to sense, but many. That, she still believed she could do.
But Rodney had a point. Carrying a key to Atlantis, as it were, was risky to say the least.
John rolled his eyes as Rodney and Carson bickered back and forth.
Ronon on the other hand was more direct about it and to the point. “Do you ever shut up?” he asked McKay which was, in hindsight a stupid question because, in fact, McKay never shut up. Actually, the more nervous the man got, the more he seemed to not shut up.
“Rodney, you’re a member of my team and you’re going. That’s final,” John said.
When McKay finally settled down and got back to the business at hand, he pointed out what he proposed to be a flaw in Sheppard’s plan.
“Ah,” John said in holding up a finger. “If someone were actually carrying the device, then yes, that would be risk. But not if it was installed on a cloaked jumper,” he pointed out.
Rodney raised a brow thoughtfully. “Put the ‘Gate on speed dial. You know … I wouldn’t be surprised if that was already a feature on the jumpers. But I’ll look into it — if it’s not already, it will be one when I get done with it,” Rodney assured him. “So are we done here, or what? ‘Cause I have a gate diagnostic to finish running before I get to the jumpers.”
Elizabeth raised her eyebrow at the astrophysicist.
“In case you haven’t noticed, Doctor, I haven’t approved this mission yet,” she said. After all, she was the final veto when it came down to it.
The fact was, John knew as well as she that the mission was probably going to happen but she had to enforce her authority. She had continued to witness John’s stubbornness and aversion to authority and she wasn’t about to give that right up now just because she was just as curious as the colonel was to what this was about.
But the truth was that she had major doubts about this plan. It had been reduced to a lot of “if”s. If McKay could alter the jumpers in this way. If the Wraith was true to its word. If the team could get out of this without losing any lives. It wasn’t as if she didn’t have faith in her people, but what they were talking about wasn’t simply having a chat over tea. This discussion was with a Wraith, a member of a species who’d ran the Ancients themselves out of the galaxy. It was something to be pondered no matter how sure the team was of a successful transaction.
“Colonel,” she finally said. “As of now your mission is a tentative go. I would like to see the modifications on the jumper for myself before I clear it entirely. Captain Gero said that we have three days until we’re contacted again. This means we have some time and I’d like to utilize it. Dr. McKay, get in touch with me when the modifications are complete on the jumper.”
“Colonel,” she said, turning away from McKay. “I’d like to speak to you privately after this meeting is over.” And as it was John who had called this meeting she left it up to him to disperse it.
“Good, get on it as soon as you can,” John said to Rodney with a nod. He loved it when a plan fell into place and he turned to face Elizabeth with a smile that promptly disappeared due to the look on her face.
“Yet?” he raised his eyebrows at her and sat back in his chair with a frown.
She knew as well as he did that this was a viable operation — risky yes, but this whole expedition was a risk. It’s why they were out here and he hoped like hell he wasn’t going to have remind Elizabeth who was in charge of the military decissions.
“Okay,” he said at having to be mollified for the moment with a tentative go. “I’ll get with Lorne and go over the specs in regards to personel and ordance,” he informed Weir then turned to the others in the room. “Carson, start getting together any gear you may need — maybe putting a fourth of your research on a tablet. Ronon and Teyla, be geared up and ready to go in hour to scout the meeting location. I don’t want there to be any surprises.”
“All right boys — and girl — you have your assignments. Let’s get on it,” he concluded in calling the meeting. But while everyone else rose to leave, John remained seatead for whatever it was Elizabeth wanted to discuss with him in private.
“Very well,” Teyla said with a nod that meant she was ready for business.
She stood up as the others did so and glanced at Ronon before casting a look at Weir and Sheppard on her way out of the briefing room. Like Elizabeth, Teyla had some reservations about this mission. But she and Ronon would make sure the meeting ground would be safe. That, at least, she had some control over.
Ronon stood up and began making his way out of the conference room, glancing at Sheppard on his way out. Once he was outside the room, he turned to look at Teyla who was behind him.
“I wonder what that’s all about,” he commented as the doors closed, leaving Sheppard and Weir to their private meeting.
Teyla looked back, catching a glimpse of Sheppard and Weir then shrugged. “I do not know.”
Looking up at Ronon, Teyla said, “It could be unrelated…” Though she doubted it.
“I need to go to the mess before getting geared up.” She changed the subject, her mind on the breakfast she had not yet had.
((OOC – feel free to continue the discussions for what heppens before this point; I just wanted to move things along …))
Rodney did Sheppard one better on the plan. Not only did he get the speed dial finished by the time the day of the meeting arrived, but he also got the Torchwoord shield-gun tech installed on the jumpers, so that they could create a containment field around the Wraith as soon as they stepped into position, as well as finished a half-dozen personal shield devices, based on the tech. The devices — which were still in the development stages really, and didn’t have any of the extra features he was planning on — worked by controls worn on the wrists; Rodney tumbed his wrist-band nervously. They could only carry enough of a charge for the shield to last fifteen minutes at best; he fought hard to resist the temptation to turn his on now. He could see Carson fidgeting similarly on Sheppard’s other side, and was millified with the knowledge that the doctor was probably even more nervous. Even knowing that there was C-4 planted all around, marines surrounding the area, and jumpers cloaked above them did little to set him at ease. In his experience, when disaster struck, it always struck hard — meeting the Wraith seemed a sure road to disaster, especially after their last attempt to collabroate with them, when he and Ronon had ended up trapped on a hive ship ….
“It’s not to late to change our minds,” he remarked to Sheppard. They still had a whole minute before the Wraith were due to arrive.
Ronon glancec back at the closed doors and shrugged. “Maybe,” was all he said although, like Teyla, he doubted it.
“The mess?” he quirked an eyebrow up at her. “Want some company?” he asked. As far he was concerned, nearly any time was a good time for food.
After having spent 7 years as a runner, you ate where and when you could as you never knew when you’d get the chance to eat again. Besides, he hadn’t had breakfast yet either, having spent the morning in the gym, sparring with Sheppard.
Elizabeth hadn’t missed the flicker of annoyance at his eyes. She couldn’t blame him, either. She was just as curious as he was about the situation. But she had to tread with caution even though she knew John would be doing the same thing. After all, she was responsible for the expedition. Anything that could go wrong in the meeting could directly effect Atlantis. She couldn’t let that happen. But that wasn’t what she wanted to discuss. Her face softened.
“How much do you know about this Wraith? What was your relationship like with him? I know he gave you back your life–does it seem likely, then that this meeting might be genuine?”
Essentially what Weir was asking was if there was a likelihood that there could be some sort of alliance. It would be invaluable to have that sort of relationship. And since John had dealt with him one-on-one (and was still alive) he would have been the best person to talk to about it. But because the ordeal had been, in her mind, an incredibly unpleasant experience she wanted to let John feel more comfortable without everyone around.
John rubbed his index finger along his bottom lip in thought as Elizabeth questioned him. Bringing his hand down and leaning against the right side of his chair’s arm rest, he answered her.
“Not much. He’s a Wraith and I don’t trust him because of that,” he said in looking at her directly. “But — I did make it clear to him that all bets were off if we ever met again, so he’s taking a chance just by contacting us.”
“This meeting could very well be genuine,” he shrugged. “But he’s not going to be sticking his neck out unless he expects to get something out of this. He must want Carson’s research pretty bad and we won’t know why unless we meet with him. He also knows we won’t just hand it over without something in return.
“In my dealings with him, he was honorable. But then again, we were forced to rely on each other for survival. It’s not like we were hanging around at Club Med and striking up a friendship. But if you’re asking me if I think the meeting’s a trap, I don’t think so.
“The fact that he’s asking for a meeting instead of ambusing our people as soon as they step through the gate as leverage for the retrovirus tells me he’s not looking to use force. He obviously wants our cooperation and figures it would be easier to establish an alliance rather than pissing us off. But like I said earlier, he’s a Wraith and I trust him about as far as I can throw him.”
That’s what Weir had needed to hear. She nodded, satisfied but obviously still thoughtful. She had her doubts but it helped to hear what John had to say.
“I agree,” she said. “Thank you.” She ended their meeting and stood. For all rights and purposes the plan was a go. But she would hold to her promise earlier. “Contact me when Dr. McKay finishes his modifications. And John,” she paused then continued, “I trust you.” She said this with conviction and then her face grew stern. “But, like you, I don’t trust the Wraith. And I doubt I could throw him any further than you.”
As Elizabeth rose from her chair and stood, signaling the end of the meeting, John got up at well and turned to leave. That was until she called his name, causing him to turn back around to face her.
“Yeah, and I bet you throw like a girl too,” he teased her with a slight quirk to the right corner of his mouth. Depsite the lightness of his comment, he understood the situation and Weir’s concerns. “Don’t worry, Elizabeth. We’re taking every precaution and we’ll come back safe,” he assured her.
Well, everything was as ready as it was going to be, John decided as he took a quick look around for the thousandth time. He, Rodney, Carson, Teyla, and Ronon were the only visible team members, but he glanced in the direction of where he knew the Marines where hiding in wait. Then the nervous fidgetting of both the Doctors drew his attention.
“Would you two knock it off?” John requested of the men standing to either side of him. “You’re both acting like you’ve got a prom date with the head cheerleader. Relax,” he intoned, making it clear they weren’t going anywhere just yet.
For the most part, the Colonel was the picture of calm, casually cradling his P-90 while he waited for the arrival of their party guests. But just because he appeared relaxed, didn’t mean he wasn’t alert and ready for anything.
“Lorne, anything showing up on the HUD yet?” he spoke into his comm unit to the Major on one of the cloaked jumpers.
“Negative,” come Lorne’s reply.
“Teyla, you sensing anything?” John then asked of the Athosian woman, knowing if a ship full of Wraith were approaching, she’d might pick up on them before the jumpers could.
With a pleased smile, Teyla looked up at him. “Of course… but steer clear of my plate!” she teased Ronon before turning on her heel to head down to the mess hall.
Everyone who knew Ronon Dex well – that was, as much as someone could get to know the man – were well aware of his wandering, pinching hands at meal times. Though Teyla suspected it was mostly to drive McKay crazy.
About to shake her head no, Teyla paused as she felt something tingling at the edge of her consciousness. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath and, suddenly, her head swam.
“They’re coming,” she warned Sheppard and the others, her body poised for action. She glanced down and checked her weapon before looking to Ronon.
Unsurprisingly, she expected the Satedan to be ready, anticipating and wanting battle. It relaxed her, grounded her while she had to keep a tight grip on her mind with so many whispers and white noise coming from the Wraith approaching.
“Why would I be interested in your plate?” Ronon asked as he followed her down the stairs. “You eat too much of the stuff that’s supposed to be good for you and not enough meat,” he stated with an indignant sniff as if he’d been insulted, though he really didn’t feel that way.
But seriously, he rarely if ever pinched off Teyla’s plate. Sheppard was the one who did that.
Before Teyla ever said anything, Ronon automatically went for his gun. The energy cylinder whining as it was activated, signalling the Satedan was ready for anything the Wraith brought — and secretly wishing they would try something. All Ronon needed to hear was the slight gasp as Teyla took a breath, informing him immediately that she sensed them coming.
He exchanged a glance with her, giving her a slight nod to let her know he had her back — along with the rest of the team’s. Many times he and Teyla didn’t need to say a word to understand each other. They had both spent their lives battling and fighting against the Wraith.
John heard the whine of Ronon’s gun and normally would have told him to take it easy and appear frienfly. But in this instance, he wasn’t about to tell the man to stand down. He preferred to have Ronon ready to shoot to kill.
“How many?” he immediately asked to Teyla’s announcement, checking his own weapon once again. “Enough or more than is managable?” he wanted to know. If the Wraith were coming in force, it was time to call the mission and speed dail the gate to get out of the area before they arrived.
“We’re approaching the planet, sir,” the helmsman informed the Wraith commander.
“Excellent,” the commander said cheerfully. “Keep that moon between the hive and the planet.” He turned his to second-in-command and a handful of drones. “Let’s go.”
His second nodded and fell in line behind him. Todd had a fair amount of trust that the sub-commander wouldn’t stab him in the back, and could be trusted to pilot the dart. In the hanger, they were met by a couple of tertiary commanders and another half-dozen drones — all that he was willing to rick in this gamble. The sub-commander climbed into the small cockpit and, a few moments later, there was a flash of light.
The next thing the commander knew, he and the drones and tertiary commanders were surrounded by trees. **The meeting place is directly ahead,** came the mental message from the sub-commander pilot, accompanied by a a computerised view of the ground, complete with life signs, on the screen in the dart’s cabin.
“We are here, Colonel Sheppard,” the commander called out as he began to walk, being as noisy as possible. “I have a small accompaniment with me and am armed, just as I’m sure you are, but I trust that we can remain civil throughout this discourse.” And then the humans were in view — well, Sheppard and a handful of others. Even without the dart’s lifesigns detector, he would have assumed that there were many more humans surrounding them. He raised his arms peaceably. “May I and two of my drones approach? Since you have four with you, I’m sure you would not begrudge me that?” He doubted two of the male humans would prove much of a threat, so two seemed fair.
Teyla cocked her head and listened for the Wraith. For that encompassing feeling she got everytime some were near. Beyond the murmuring presence she had picked up moments before, one touched her mind. Closer. And, suddenly, many more. She recoiled a bit, shaking her head to chase the feeling.
“About two dozens,” she answered Sheppard. “Maybe less.” And then she heard a Wraith calling out, up ahead in the trees, announcing his approach.
Here we go, she thought to herself, raising her weapon in readiness.
“Colonel, sensors are picking up a Dart heading your way,” Lorne announced over the comms from his position in one of the cloaked jumpers.
“Anything else?” John asked.
“No, sir. Most likely the Dart originated from a cruiser just out of sensor range, probably hidden behind the small moon in this system according to the point we picked up the Dart on the HUD.”
“Copy,” John replied and glanced at Teyla when she announced how many Wraith she sensed before Lorne could report how many materialized on the planet’s surface. Two dozen was more than John had hoped would come to the meeting and he didn’t like it. “Okay, boys and girls, stay sharp,” he instructed everyone in raising his P90 to fire if he had to.
Those on the ground heard the Wraith before they saw them, although John knew Lorne and the others were tracking the Wraith via the jumper’s sensors.
“We’ll be civil as long as you are,” John called back and then they came into view.
Ronon’s gun was up and pointed directly at the lead Wraith. He was edgy and John could sense it, licking his lips in anticipation.
“Sure, come on ahead. What’s a few party crashers? The more the merrier,” John replied to the Wraith’s request to bring two of his drones with him. “But I gotta warn you, we didn’t bring any extra beer.”
The Wraith commander gave the colonel a bemused smile. “I’m sure your remarks must be quite humorous to your people,” he said graciously, noting the decided lack of amusement on the faces of the other humans. Doubtless the humans wouldn’t believe it, but he actually considered their discomfort a bad thing — it lessened his odds of getting what he wanted. But then, he rather expected to have to work for it … “My thanks for your willingness to meet with me. I hope you will find my offer to be … worth the risk.”
“I assume Dr Beckett is with you?”
Carson moved to reply, but Rodney beat him to it. “And why exactly do you want to know?” the astrophysicist asked. If the Wraith wanted Carson for some reason, it seemed wiser not to make it easy for them to pick the man out of the crowd. Then he realised that this Wraith probably figured he was Dr Beckett and wished he’d kept his mouth shut.
“You must be Dr McKay,” the commander said; judging by the way the human flinched, he knew he’d guessed right. The man oozed both fear and self-importance. “Forgive me, doctor; perhaps I should explain now why exactly it is I wanted to get in contact with your people,” the Wraith began. “I’m sure you know of how much difficulty my people are having in obtaining adequate food, and that the hives have been fighting amongst themselves for territory. I have heard of your experiments with Michael, and how they have left him in a half-breed state. For a time, he was, for all intents and purposes, fully human, even, was he not?”
“Aye,” Carson said warily. “But if yeh want us to make your enemies human again so that you can feed on them, yeh can forget about it. We tried that once — didnae turn out so well for us!”
“On the contrary, Dr Beckett — you are Beckett, yes?” The human looked uncertainly at Sheppard, confirming his suspicions. “Our compatriots were on the offensive, seeking to eradicate an enemy and increase their food supply in one fell swoop. While I appreciate the brilliance of that plan, we have something a little more defensive in mind, something not contingent upon the need to find and infiltrate our enemies. It seems to me that my people’s primary weakness is the need to feed on humans; wouldn’t you agree? So eliminate that, and there is no need for Wraith to fight over food — nor fight with humans, for that matter. Believe it or not, we are not all bloodthirsty creatures. Why struggle if we do not have to? So what I propose is a scientific alliance. Obviously my people do not wish to lose their strength or invulnerability, but if you can manipulate our DNA in a fashion that relieves us of our hunger, I should think it would be a mutually beneficial endeavor. Much like our last encounter,” he added to Sheppard.
“Eliminate your need for food, and you automatically have an advantage over your enemies,” Rodney pointed out, realising a deeper motive to the Wraith’s plan.
“Yes, there is that,” the Wraith commander agreed with a predatory smile.
“You have no intention of offering this to other hives,” Rodney added. “You’ll still fight them — or rather, stand back and fight whoever is left in any battle over humans, defeating an already-weakened opponent!”
“Surely that is proof of our sincerity?” the commander said, spreading his hands out placatingly. “I know you would never believe us capable of … compassion, I believe it’s called? — and frankly, you’d be right. But you can believe we’d be interested in a tactical advantage, yes? Or in ridding ourselves of a condition that leads to personal risk in encounters with your kind? I don’t really care what happens to humanity, but personally? I’d be a lot happier if I could just ignore you.” And it was true — even now, the beast within him howled in hunger. It was distracting, a weakness; he had no intention of staying a slave to that hunger.
Teyla rolled her eyes. Meat, meat, meat, meat, meat. Given a choice, that was all Ronon would eat. Though with his size and built, it was not at all surprising. Teyla would have been hard-pressed to believe he could be one of those Earth vegans.
It made it all the more funny that once, whilst being held captive by Lt. Ford and under the influence of the Wraith-enzyme, Ronon and Teyla had fought over a lettuce leaf.
“It is enough for me,” Teyla grumbled even though she was smiling.
Entering the mess, Teyla grabbed a tray and ordered eggs and bacon with toast. After a glance toward Ronon, she made it extra bacon. Apple juice and a fruit salad joined the appetizing plate on her tray and she went to find a table for Ronon and herself. She was famished.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Tell us something we don’t know,” John said in regards to the Wraith commander stating that his people were having a hard time feeding themselves. He had no sympathy for them at all. “It’s all water under the bridge, or over it… something like that. Why should I care if you don’t have enough food to feed yourselves? Seems to me like you’ll starve yourselves to death eventually. Why should we help you climb to the top of the food chain by turning your enemy hives into a surplus?” he asked in assuming the same thing that Carson had.
As the Wraith looked towards John for conformation that he was speaking with Beckett, he gave no indications, keeping a poker face. However, when the Wraith correctly signled the doctor out, Ronon took a step a forward in front of him, gun trained squarely on the commander. If the intention was to make a snatch and grab for the doctor, they’d have to go through the Satedan first.
“Why should we help you?” Ronon all but snarled. “I say we kill them all, now, and be done with it.”
“Easy,” John cautioned as ideas and scenerios started popping in his head once he understood the scope of what the Wraith commander wanted.
As well as a few questions, some of which Rodney already voiced.
“He’s got a point,” he said in referring to Ronon. “Why should we help you? What’s in this alliance for us?”
In other words, one hive’s inability to feed on humans wasn’t enough and he knew he’d have to bring something a little more substantial to Elizabeth for her to agree to anything.
“If you say so,” Ronon shrugged as he grabbed the next tray in line and began filling it.
While Teyla’s choices appeared to be semi-healthy, Ronon chose stake and eggs, hash browns, some sausage, a couple of slices of bacon for good measure, and a few of those little cartons of milk. Then he carried his tray over to the table Teyla had selected and sat down across from her, immediately stabbing his stake with a fork.
“You’re not on one of those diets are you?” he asked her in glancing at the fruit salad and took a bite of his stake.
It seemed like every Earth woman in Atlantis was on some sort of diet and watching their weight, even though they were as skinny as a rail. Actually, in Ronon’s opinion, they could all stand to gain a little weight.
The Wraith commander raised a brow. He’d known this would be hard, but knowing hadn’t really helped him prepare for their stubbornness. “You realise that my people will attempt to kill every last human before they manage to starve to death? And my hive has allies. Kill us,” he began, gesturing with a hand back to the dart and the drones he’d brought, “and you’ll only be stopping twenty or so of my kind. Help us, and you’ll have six or seven hives that would not only no longer be hunting your kind, but be stronger than the other hives, and therefore better able to kill off the ones that would still insist on hunting your people, thereby helping you to eliminate even more of the threat. Even if you do not believe that we could be allies after, surely having less Wraith hunting humans, as well as having to do less of the fighting yourselves, is a good thing? How is that not an advantage for you?” he asked, truly puzzled. “What more do we have that would be of interest to you? You already have our stunners, our dart technology, better beaming tech and better hyperdrives! The main reason we are any sort of threat to the Lanteans is our sheer numbers and our resilience, coupled with our hunger! This plan would eliminate two of those factors, which in turn would be a great hindrance to the third!”
“He has a point,” Rodney admitted.
“Last time, they double-crossed us!” Carson protested. “What’s to stop them from doing so again?”
“It would be hard to betray you if I am your prisoner,” the commander pointed out. “When the retrovirus is ready, you will use it to fix me so that I do not need to feed. Stun me when it’s done if you don’t trust me, then release me like you did before, and I will go back to my people to change them as well. I fail to see what I could do to betray you. If the Genii could keep me prisoner for so many years, you should have no trouble.”
“But how would you feed?” Rodney asked, curious.
The commander was quiet a long moment. “Obviously there would be a time limit. I hold no illusions that you would allow me to feed, or that you would let me go again if we do not complete the task before I would die. I’m willing to take that risk — I think the gain is worth it.”
“Sure it’s an advantage,” John agreed. “But a slight one. You’re only talking about what, another five or six hives? What about the other sixty or so?”
John wouldn’t admit it, but he was already thinking of a double cross. While the appeal of the Wraith no longer depending on humans as their sole source of food was an idea he liked, what the Wraith commander was proposing was only a limited fix. John was thinking more along the lines of making it wide spread. But first things first, Carson had to make the retrovirus work and the Wraith commander was already offering himself up as a test subject. And if this Wraith happened to die in the process, they still had Bert to experiment. John certainly wouldn’t loose any sleep over it. So, why not go with it?
“I’ve got a solution to the feeding problem,” he stated. “Okay, here’s the deal. For our involvement in this, I want schematics to your hive ships. Strengths, weaknesses, the whole ball of wax. You and you only will be allowed to go back with us as our prisoner. Your movements about the city will be limited and you’ll be under constant guard. If your hand even twiches, you die — or if I hear a rumble in your stomach. That is if you even have one. In addition, we keep all the research and notes on the retrovirus along with the serum, giving you just enough of it for your hive. If this isn’t acceptable to you, we walk and the deal’s off.”
“More like at least seven and up to fourteen — against another hundred. But when you’re backs against the wall, aren’t you happy for even one more bullet with which to strike an enemy?”
The Wraith commander glowered at the human. “You humans certainly don’t think much of Wraith intelligence. Well, perhaps you’re right in doubting us, since I fail to see why you would be unwilling to let us have a copy of the research, or why you would see fit to limit the amount of the retrovirus that we would receive, inhibiting our own ability to spread the retrovirus amongst ourselves — especially since you obviously intend to spread it to the rest of the Wraith anyway. That is why you insist on keeping the research, is it not? Just to clarify, though — when you say that I can have just enough of the retrovirus for my hive, are you excluding my hive’s allies? Perhaps you’re hoping that the rest of the Wraith will hunt my hive down and kill us, seeing as they would have the tactical advantage, if they were all transformed and the rest of my hive’s allies were not? I certainly hope that’s not the case — I’d hate to think I’ve wasted my time in arranging this meeting,” he growled. “Then again, I’m fairly confident that we’d be able to reverse-engineer and replicate it on our own,” he added as an afterthought, smiling.
“Diet?” Teyla looked up from her food, suddenly very self-conscious.
“You think I should be on one?” Teyla searched Ronon’s face.
Teyla shifted as she studied warily the Wraith and his drones before her.
The simple thought of revisiting any experiments with the dreaded retrovirus was unsettling to the Athosian to say the least. But the fact Atlantis was actually contemplating making another deal with a Wraith made her sick to her stomach.
No matter what kind of advantage Atlantis may appear to gain, she did not trust the Wraith and if her past experiences had taught her only one thing it was of their treachery.
As she had heard the humans from Earth say on more than one occasions, if they agreed to the deal, it was highly likely to come back to bite them on the ass.
Ronon suddenly stopped in mid chew. His expression was something akin to what Sheppard would call the ‘deer caught in headlights’ look.
“Uhhhhh, no,” he said.
Subtlety wasn’t exactly one of Ronon’s strong points. He tended to say what was on his mind and bulldoze his way through things without regard to other’s feelings. It wasn’t that he was callous, just after spending seven years as a virtual loner, his social skills where still somewhat lacking, though on parr, better than McKay’s.
“All the other women around here seem to be on some sort of diet and you’re eating the same type of rabbit food, I thought you were following the rest of the herd,” he shrugged and went back to happily chewing his stake.
While John’s face was impassive and unreadable as the Wraith commander droned on, he glanced around impatiently, on the look out for trouble. The longer they remained there talking to the Wraith, the better the chances of them setting up some sort of ambush — and he knew Ronon and Teyla were probably thinking the same thing. They needed to end these negotiations quickly or call a recess for another meeting at a later time.
When the Wraith commander finally stopped speaking, John looked at him. “So, is that a yes? Cause I’ve got to tell you, if it isn’t, the deal’s off. And oh, would you look at the time,” he stated in consulting his watch. “We’ve got another meeting with a hive queen and you know how they hate to be kept waiting. We really need to wrap this up.”
The Wraith commander growled in frustration. His hive, even with its allies, was fighting a loosing battle at the moment: they needed *some*thing that could give them a fighting chance. He wasn’t about to tell Sheppard, but the majority of human-inhabited planets were held by other factions; he currently had little territory from which to cull, which in turn meant the few drones and subcommanders he had were virtually starving — if they tried to increase their numbers, there would be no way to feed them. But if his people could subside on human food, they could find an uninhabited world, hide there, and increase their numbers in secret.
Or maybe, living amongst these humans, he might find the whereabouts of a ZPM strong enough to power one of the clonings stations, and make a human factory with which to feed his army ….
Even if these blasted humans insisted on giving the other hives the same advantage, at least the playing field wouldn’t be any worse than it was now — his hive and the other hives would have equal abilities. Plus his people would no longer starve. And there was a good chance he could reverse-engineer the retrovirus — he just couldn’t seem to make it work on his own, and he was running out of time. Sure, these humans might kill him rather than let him leave, but his hive would be lost in any case, then — he really had nothing left to lose. All he could do was hope Sheppard would act as honorably as he had been the last time, would keep his word about letting him go.
He took a deep breath and squared his shoulders. “Very well. I accept your terms.” He gave a mental command, and the drones turned and left, heading back to the dart.
He looked at Ronon’s blaster, recognising it as a stunner common to the Satedans. If the humans were going to kill him, now was the time; otherwise, he figured that they would stun him to take him captive, just as they had the last time. Frankly, he would do the same in their shoes …. He waited patiently.
Ouch.
“I do not follow a herd,” Teyla said somewhat indignantly. “I happen to like fruit.” She plunged her spoon in the bowl and took a big mouthful of fruit salad as if to illustrate her point.
“You find me too… skinny?”
The question left her mouth unchecked before Teyla could think better of it. In fact, she had not wanted to ask. Leaving the subject of her appearance at ‘rabbit food’ and ‘herd’ would have been a better idea and all she wished she had done. But no. Ronon’s words and what he thought of her apparently held enough importance in her eyes to talk back – even if she would not admit it to herself.
In fact, as she waited for him to answer, Teyla felt totally ridiculous and not unlike she had felt, so many years ago, in front of a boy named Boran, one she had liked, waiting for him to ask her to be his partner in the game of Claloun.
“Please, forget I asked,” she said, annoyed with herself. Eyes on her plate, she picked up a rasher of bacon and ate it.
(OOC: LOL Love your choice of icon!)
They were going to do this?
Teyla glanced at Ronon.
They were going to bring another Wraith to Atlantis. Restart work on the retrovirus. To. Help. The. Wraith. Teyla could not believe her ears.
Apparently the mess with the Wraith Queen and Michael, who had both suggested a similar alliance, was not enough. Or John was leading this particular Wraith on.
Teyla sincerely hoped so.
“They’re leaving,” Teyla said tightly, as she felt not only the dart’s pilot withdraw but the background Wraith presence she felt on the fringe of her mind.
“Okay, you like fruit,” Ronon said in ripping another bite out of his stake and shrugged, non-plused by her statement.
But Teyla’s next question gave him pause as his chewing slowed and he had to resist the urge to beat his head against the table — repeatedly.
“If you ask me,” he began, which in a sense she was asking him after all. “All the women around here are too skinny. But you’re fine. You’re a warrior, you’re supposed to be skinny,” he stated as a compliment, followed
with a slight sniff as he tore off yet another hunk of stake. If his mouth was too full, then he wouldn’t have to answer he questions any more, right?
(OOC: Hee, thanks! That’s one of my faves.)
Alright then. She was not his type. It was not much of a surprise. Despite the closeness she often felt by his side. A kinship of sorts. Maybe it was all due their background, their fight against the Wraith, the fact they were the only two Pegasus natives in a city full of strangers.
“Thank you,” she said, a polite smile that did not reach her eyes, even if Ronon’s obvious discomfort was a little amusing.
Looking around the mess, Teyla pondered his words. Maybe most women on Atlantis were on the skinny side. Teyla had not really noticed. But she guessed that, to Ronon’s size, most women would appear small.
Idly running a hand over her thigh, she did not agree with his assessment. She was not skinny. She was… toned. Or at least she hoped so. Toned and fit. Strong. Those were the qualities of a warrior’s physique. She still thought she had some curves, no? Had she been in her quarters, Teyla would have checked for herself in the mirror. But she dropped the subject. Ronon filling his mouth to full capacity was a clear message he did not wish to discuss it further. Teyla instinctively got that loud and clear.
“What do you think of the mission?” she asked, swapping idle talk to serious business.
“Verified,” Lorne’s voice confirmed over the headset. “A hyperspace window just opened up and they’re leaving.”
“Good,” John said in response to both the Wraith commander accepting the terms, and Teyla’s and Lorne’s confirmations that the rest of his buddies where leaving.
From that point, he cut his eyes towards Ronon and nodded. And without hesitation, a blast errupted from his gun, taking the Wraith down. Naturally, though, he would have preferred to have his energy weapon set to kill instead of stun.
“I still think this is mistake,” Ronon stated bluntly as he stood over the crumbled body of the lanky greenish creature, casting a brief glance at Teyla.
“I got that the first time,” John replied as the Marines came forward to secure the prisoner.
The Wraith was placed in shakles, both hands and feet. A think leather band — almost like a weight lifters belt — was sniched securely around his waist and his hands placed in the cuffs attached to the belt. The Wraith would have limited movement at best.
Once the prisoner was secured, they loaded him aboard one of the jumpers for the journey back to Atlantis — with Ronon standing guard of course. It was easier than carrying him and Sheppard couldn’t testify that their prisoner wouldn’t sustain a concussion or worse if Ronon carried him back.
“Okay, let’s dail it up and get the hell out of here before his friends decide to come back,” John ordered as he boarded Major Lorne’s jumper with the rest of the team. The other jumper with the rest of the Marines would follow as soon as they retrieved the ordance they’d placed around the ruins.
“Yes, sir,” Lorne said as he hit the speed dail switch McKay had installed and John reached up to touch his headset.
“Atlantis, this is Jumper Three, have a squad of Marines and a transport gurney standing by in the jumper bay.”
“Ready and standing by for you Colonel,” Chuck’s voice replied.
With a nod from Sheppard, Lorne took the jumper through the gate and back to their point of origin.
“This is a bad idea,” Carson muttered over and over again as they brought the Wraith into the jumper.
“Yeah, well … having another test subject will be useful, right? And it’s not like the Wraith didn’t already know we’re still around after all, ” Rodney offered, trying to be positive — while staying as far away from the fallen Wraith as possible.
“You should know, Colonel, we have a bit of a situation here,” Chuck added to his response to Sheppard. “Conveniently enough, it’s in the brig. Some woman and a large canine have apparently just materialised inside the Wraith’s cell. Dr Weir was just about to go down and assess the situation when you dialed the gate, but decided to come to the ‘Gateroom instead — she should be here any second.” The poor woman had been woken from a sound sleep and was coming from her quarters.
“When it rains, it pours,” Rodney sighed.
“Oh, and get this,” Chuck continued, “the woman claims to be Dr McKay’s niece, from the future!” Chuck’s voice was clearly amused; he’d overheard the exchange between Wier and the Captain about it over the radio.
Rodney shared a shocked look with Carson, then turned to Sheppard. “Ahh, after the whole Rod situation, and the files on the quanmtum mirror, or what happened at the SGC with the Stargate a couple of years ago, I would not be quick to dismiss this,” Rodney warned. “I mean … Madison is a McKay, at least by blood; it only makes sense that she would follow in my footsteps when she grew up!”
“Or her mum’s?” Carson said pointedly.
“Yes, yes, and who’s the one who actually puts his degree to use on a regular basis?” Rodney snapped back, the event horizon cutting the word “basis” in half as they went through the ‘Gate.
“And who needs his sister’s help with his somework on a regular babsi?” Carson retiorted. Ignoring Rodney’s spluttering protest, he turned his attention to the others. “A blood test will tell us what we want a know readily enough,” he sighed. He’d just wanted to go to bed, but it seemed he was now going to spend time in the brig …
Ronon just grunted at her response. What the hell was he supposed to say? If he had said he didn’t think she was skinny, she probably would have been equally as pissed about that and accuse him of saying she was fat. He may be lacking in his social skills and generally state what to him was the obvious without thinking about it, but one thing he had learned was when to shut up — especially around a woman. And for one breif moment, he understood how Sheppard felt whenever he screwed up by putting his foot in his mouth. At least Ronon had sense enough to know when to shut up.
After a couple of more chews, Ronon picked up his carton of milk and washed it down before he finally answered Teyla. “I don’t like it,” he stated. “The Wraith never just want to meet. They’re up to something. I say we just set up an ambush and kill them all the moment they arrive.”
“So, I’ve been told,” John said in gaving Carson a hard look. He was already getting enough the whole doom n’ gloom routine from Ronon, he didn’t need it from the doc too.
“I’ll tell you what. If this doesn’t work out, I’ll have both Wraith put in the same cell, bill it as a cage match, and sell tickets. The winner of the match can fight Ronon,” he proposed which prompted an unsettling grin from the Satedan. “That should make everyone happy,” he said in eying Ronon warily until Chuck got his undivided attention.
“Really? Rodney’s niece?” he looked over at McKay with some reservation about it all. “Yeah, but that was all alternate dimension type of stuff, thing. None of that had to do with time travel — unless she’s driving a really cool Delorean,” he countered Rodney’s arguement with a smile. “Okay, we’ll deal with it after we get our new house guest settled,” he informed Chuck, ending the transmission as jumper went through the gate.
As the little ship reintergrated itself and it’s passenger’s in the gate room, John hid a smirk as Carson traded barbs with Rodney. It seemed like picking on the scientists was becoming an international past time.
“Okay, Doc. Get on that as soon as you can. I don’t think he’s going to be waking up anytime soon,” John said in looking at the Wraith while the jumper ascended into the hangar bay where the Marines were waiting to transfer the prisoner.
Elizabeth was bleary eyed with a uniform haphazardly thrown on in lieu of nightgown and fuzzy robe. This was the first night she’d been able to get past R.E.M. in a while. She chastised herself for it, though, because she’d been well aware of what result Colonel Sheppard’s mission could bring.
But it figured as soon as she actually got to sleep not one but two things would wake her from her slumber.
She stood, with her arms crossed across her chest, her hair pulled back, the parts of it that didn’t insist on flopping into her eyes, and her eyebrow cocked in anticipation of John and company’s prize winning catch of the day.
“I agree. You and I have been around them most of our lives. We know there will always be some ulterior motive.”
Teyla sighed. Unfortunately, the new Lanteans saw things differently, perhaps due to their ignorance or something else. Thing was, Dr. Weir and her people had also done a lot of good since their arrival and Teyla had come to put her trust in them.
“That would be fine with me but something tells me John will want to hear what they have to say before there is any killing,” Teyla replied, knowing this would be frustrating for the Satedan.
“I know,” Ronon said in not even attempting to hide his disgust. He didn’t understand the propensity of people from Earth wanting to actually talk to the Wraith and hear what they had to say, but he’d follow Sheppard’s orders.
“The Wraith can’t be trusted. I just hope Sheppard and the others realize that before it’s too late.”
Rodney rolled his eyes at Sheppard’s mention of the Delorean. “Your obsession with that movie is frightening, especially considering the things you’ve seen and done. We have the adventures of Mr Marty McFly beat any day of the week!” Never mind Rodney’s own obsession with the even more ludicrous Doctor Who.
He watched nevrously as the marines took hold of the Wraith’s gurney top and brought it out of the jumper, attatching it to a set of wheels. He knew the Wraith was out cold, and well-secured to the gurney, but he couldn’t shake visions of it breaking free and killing them all ….
“Look what we found,” he quipped to Elizabeth, trying to laugh away his own nervousness. “Can we keep him?”
He followed the procession down to the cells, staying as far back as possible, hands holding a Wraith stunner in a tight grip. He didn’t trust himself to use a gun at this point — he’d as likely shoot a friend as the Wraith, and it wasn’t like shooting a Wraith with a bullet ever did much good anyway …
“I like that movie,” John said as he walked down the ramp of the jumper with Rodney, behind the Marines and their cargo, and a very alert Ronon who was paying more attention to their captive than the conversation going on in his wake.
John walked along behind the procession until he neared Elizabeth, quirking an amused eyebrow up at her appearance. “Forget to put on your jammies before going to sleep?” he asked in regard to her wrinkled and dishelved look. “Or were you going for the whole lived in I never get any sleep sympathy for the boss look?” he teased as they started walking again.
“What can you tell me about our new guests?” he then cut to the chase, noting how tightly McKay was holding the stunner.
“Rodney, relax before you hurt yourself. Ronon and the Marines have everything under control.”
On edge probably as much as Ronon was, Teyla did not appreciate Rodney’s attempt at humour nor his effort to make light of the situation. If that was what he had meant to do. They were voluntarily bringing a Wraith back to Atlantis. Make that two Wraith.
Following the group, Teyla nodded to Elizabeth, she too noticing her unusual appearance. “Our apologies for waking you, Elizabeth.”
She would not admit it but as Sheppard mentioned their new guests, Teyla was curious to know more, and especially how Schorin fitted into it.