Rodney is tired, dirty and soaked to the skin, the mud beneath his feet squelches with every step he takes and it's only the prospect of the long hot shower that is waiting for him on the other side of the stargate which keeps him moving. The mission has been a complete bust, pretty much like every other mission over the past three months - their most recent intel proving to be merely unsubstantiated rumour and leading to nothing more than a long uphill hike in the lashing rain. Rodney keeps his mind firmly focused on how good the steaming hot water is going to feel as it washes away the grime of this soggy excuse for a planet and refuses to dwell on the deeper implications of yet another unsuccessful mission.
He scrubs a hand over his face to wipe the rainwater out of his eyes and casts his gaze up along the mud trail he's been following to the figures of his team mates ahead of him. Their weariness is also apparent; Ronon's shoulders droop slightly as he leads the group and even Teyla's usually perfect posture is positively radiating her exhaustion. It's been a hard few months and with each failed mission, their lack of progress drags them all down even lower; their failure and its consequences hitting them harder each and every time.
"Keep moving, we're almost there," a voice says from behind him.
Rodney waves a tired hand in its general direction, afraid that the effort of actually turning around to make a reply is likely to send him toppling over into the mud. "Yes, yes," he says wearily. "Believe me, I am every bit as ready to get out of this mud pit as you are."
A grunt is the only response he gets and Rodney can't help but smirk a little at the knowledge that he is clearly not the only one suffering the effects of the mission. Just then Ronon crests the brow of the hill, pausing at the top to shout down to the rest of them.
"Stargate up ahead," he calls, his grin a bright flash of white against the mud-streaked planes of his face and his dripping dreds.
"About damn time," Rodney hears from behind him and he finds himself in complete agreement with the sentiment. He pushes himself a little harder, fighting through the mud to make it to Teyla's side so they reach Ronon's position together. The stargate is standing a couple hundred meters in front of them and Rodney lets out a hearty sigh of relief. He takes a step towards the gate only to slip in the thick sticky mud at the top of the well-used trail. Before he hits the ground, Ronon reaches out to catch him as he flails, his hand a firm and steadying presence on Rodney's elbow.
"I've got you, McKay," Ronon rumbles as Rodney regains his feet. "You okay, now?"
"No, not really," Rodney replies, the words coming out of his mouth before his brain has time to censor them.
Ronon's hand tightens on Rodney's arm briefly before he lets it go. "There's always the next mission; we gotta keep on fighting," he says.
Rodney looks up at Ronon's words, recognizing in them the innate confidence that went a long way to explaining how the man had been able to successfully survive spending seven years as a runner. "Yes," he says, clinging to hope despite the growing mound of evidence to the contrary. "Well, come on then, what are we waiting for?" he asks as a crash of thunder echoes overhead and the rain starts to come down even heavier. "Let's go home."
****
Elizabeth is waiting for them at the foot of the stairs as they step through the stargate, her eyes widening slightly as she takes in their bedraggled state. Rodney looks down at himself in disgust, his uniform is damp and mud-splattered and his BDUs cling uncomfortably to his thighs. A quick glance at his team mates shows that they are in an equally waterlogged and muddied state. Ronon leans forward and then flings his head backwards quickly, his hair showering them all with yet another coating of cold water.
Teyla jumps back a pace in surprise as Rodney shouts his outrage aloud, "Hey! Do you mind?"
"Well, it's not like you could get any wetter," Ronon grunts.
"Gentlemen," Elizabeth says quickly to forestall Rodney's comeback, but Rodney notices she doesn't choose to approach them. Instead she turns her attention to Teyla, almost desperate hope written starkly on her face. "Anything?"
Teyla remains silent and simply shakes her head.
Elizabeth blinks once and then nods slowly, as if she has been expecting this outcome - which, now that he thinks about it, Rodney supposes she may well have. It has been three months after all, and their intel has been getting increasingly more patchy. "Okay, then," she says, her eyes tracking down to where they're steadily dripping muddy water onto the pristine gateroom floor. "Why don't you go get yourselves cleaned up and we'll meet in the conference room in an hour."
Rodney nods to himself and turns to go, his boots squidging disagreeably as he walks. An hour is good; he'll have time to get showered and changed and then check in at the lab before he needs to be back up here. Maybe Zelenka and the others will have turned up something useful from the latest set of scans. Maybe he'll even get a chance to finish up those last few scan upgrades he's been working on.
"May I just have a quick word with you before you go, Major?" Elizabeth's words are spoken in a soft under tone, but Rodney hears them anyway. He freezes in place immediately, forcing himself to take a slow, measured breath before he turns back to look at her. As if feeling the weight of his gaze, Elizabeth turns her head to meet it, her eyes full of sorrow and apology.
"The IOA?" Rodney forces himself to ask. He has his answer as Elizabeth's expression turns stricken for a moment before she catches herself.
Rodney swallows past the lump which has suddenly formed in his throat and nods to her in acknowledgement of her silent message - it's not her fault after all, she's lost just as much as anyone here... well, almost anyone.
"We'll talk about it in an hour, Rodney," she says, her voice calm and steady, its tone belaying the sadness that fills her eyes.
"Yes, an hour," Rodney repeats almost mindlessly. He walks out of the gateroom without a backward glance.
~*~
Three Months Earlier
"A neutron star?" John asked, his voice portraying nothing more than the mildest of interest. In reality, he had been paying close attention to the briefing, but he'd always felt that it was an important strategy to keep exactly how much he knows to himself. Besides, it was always worth playing dumb just to rile Rodney up - seeing his indignant splutterings was almost as amusing as watching him go all wide-eyed with amazement whenever John took the opportunity to show off his intelligence.
Predictable as ever, Rodney snorted and rolled his eyes at John's comment. "Yes, Colonel," he snapped. "I'm so glad you're paying such close attention. Maybe in the future you'll-"
"Rodney," Elizabeth said quickly, cutting Rodney off just before he could get into full rant mode, much to John's disappointment. "Perhaps you could give us a bit of background, hmm?"
Rodney frowned at her in confusion for a moment, as if completely unaware that not everyone around the table had followed his astrophysics enhanced techno-babble. John had to work hard to swallow the smile that pulled at the corner of his lips, although it seemed that he was only partially successful because Rodney turned his glare directly on him before flapping a hand at Elizabeth. "Yes, yes. For the benefit of the non-physicists in the room, I suppose I can try to break it down for you."
"Thank you, Rodney," Elizabeth replied smoothly with a smile. John exchanged a patient glance with Teyla and rolled his eyes at Ronon, very much conscious of the fact that Rodney was pointedly ignoring him in favour of continuing his exposition.
"You see, the system of which P57-4PQ is a part also contains a pulsar - a type of highly magnetized neutron star," Rodney explained. John sat back in his chair and settled down to watch the Rodney science show, intent on enjoying Rodney's lecture, captivated as always by Rodney's visible passion and enthusiasm for his subject.
"Pulsars emit beams of electromagnetic radiation, radio waves in the case of this particular pulsar, but pulsars have been discovered which emit gamma and x-rays."
John cleared his throat quietly as he recognised the early signs of Rodney going off on a random tangent. Rodney paused in his diatribe for a moment, taking the time to glare at him.
"Anyway," Rodney continued, looking from John to Elizabeth and getting back on track, "the radio waves of this pulsar are likely to interfere with some of our technology. The Ancient tech that we use, our scanners, data pads, et cetera, should operate normally, but there is a small chance that our radios may be affected if we experience one of the emissions while we're there."
"A small chance?" John asked, not at all keen on the idea of being out of contact with his team while on a mission to a new planet.
"Small, but finite," Rodney qualified. "You see, pulsars are rotating neutron stars, which means that their emissions can only be detected when they're pointing towards you - it's actually called the 'lighthouse effect' because the emissions act in much the same way as the beam of light from a lighthouse. They're called 'pulsars' precisely because they appear to pulse."
"So this means that it will only present a problem if the emissions are directed towards the planet." Elizabeth said.
"Exactly," Rodney replied.
"And can we not simply ensure that our mission does not occur during this time period?" Teyla asked.
"Ideally, yes, that is precisely what we'd do," Rodney said. "In fact, some pulsars have the regularity of pulsation as precise as an atomic clock. Unfortunately, this pulsar is a so-called millisecond pulsar, which means that there are anomalies in its pulsation period making it difficult to predict when the EM pulses will occur. If we are unlucky and catch the star in one of its emitting modes when it is aligned with P57-4PQ's stargate, then we may be affected."
"If the star is in one of these pulsation periods, will it affect the stargate?" Elizabeth asked.
Rodney shook his head. "No, all of our Ancient tech will be fine - the stargate included. It's only our our radios that we will need to worry about."
"Okay," John said. "So we make sure to stay together - in pairs only if absolutely necessary - just in case." He looked around the rest of his team and saw Teyla and Ronon nod in acknowledgement.
Elizabeth was nodding as well. "Sounds sensible," she said. "From what Teyla's contacts have told her, there is a real possibility that we might find trading partners in the people of P57-4PQ. So I do think this is a mission worth pursuing."
"So we have a go?" John asked for clarification.
"Yes, Colonel," Elizabeth replied with a smile. "Once all the preparations are in place, you have a go."
****
John made sure that he left the briefing room at Rodney's side. "So you done for the day?" he asked as casually as he could manage, bumping Rodney's shoulder with his own as they headed towards the transporter.
Rodney still had his laptop open, balancing it with one hand held underneath whilst tapping away at it with his other hand. "What?" he asked distractedly, his fingers still flying over the keys.
John suppressed a smile and put his hand on Rodney's shoulder, enjoying the warmth of Rodney's body beneath his palm. His action effectively halted Rodney's progress and caused him to finally raise his head to scowl at John. "Dinner?" John asked quickly, hoping to appease the impending rant he could already see building in Rodney's eyes. "Movie?"
Rodney turned to face John fully, closing his laptop with a much put upon sigh and then regarding John in exasperation. "Do you have any idea just how much work I have to do?" he snapped. "Our mission dictates aside," he waved a hand as he spoke, effectively dismissing the diplomatic aspect of the mission John presumed, "the opportunity we have to learn more about the pulsar is far too good to pass up."
"Rodney," John had to caution. "We're going primarily to secure a trade agreement."
"Yes, yes, I know that," Rodney replied, clutching his laptop to his chest as he crossed his arms. "But the whole negotiating things is not really my thing. As you well know."
"Really?" John asked with a smirk.
"Yes, really," Rodney replied with a scowl. "Anyway, as I was saying," he continued. "Since my expertise will not be required in that particular area, I was intending to take the opportunity to get some preliminary readings on the neutron star. That way, if we are able to trade with the people there, I can get a team of astrophysicists to come study the star in more detail on the subsequent missions. So, in order to do that, I need to get my equipment sorted out. I think what we need is a pair of pretty sizeable electrodes and a reconfigured MALP and..."
"Okay, I get the picture," John said, as Rodney trailed off, pulled out his PDA from his jacket pocket and started tapping away. "You don't mind if I tag along, do you?"
"As a matter of fact, I-"
"Come on, Rodney," he whined, certain that Rodney would not be able to refuse him.
True to form, Rodney huffed and rolled his eyes, but then impatiently shooed John into the transporter ahead of him. John grinned at Rodney and then reached across him to select the button which would take them down to the labs.
~*~
Present Day
"Rodney?"
He hears Teyla call his name when he's just a few feet away from his quarters. He curses quietly under his breath - so close to safety - and stops, still dripping on the floor, and gives in to the inevitable. He turns to face Teyla, willing his face into some semblance of a normal expression and frustrated beyond measure that he is so very bad at hiding his emotions from her.
"Yes, what is it?" he asks sharply, hoping if he's sufficiently brusque he might be able to get through this encounter with at least some of his dignity still intact.
Teyla catches up with him, reaching out to place her hands on his forearms as if to bring him into the Athosian greeting. Rodney quickly jerks himself backwards and crosses his arms over his chest to dissuade her, unwilling to accept her sympathy. "Rodney," she says again, softly this time, her voice full of compassion.
Rodney feels himself crumple inwardly as Teyla reaches out to him once more. This time he can't find the strength to pull away as she carefully uncrosses his arms, grasps his forearms to pull him close and then gently touches her forehead to his. "We are all here for you, Rodney," she assures him. "We are your family."
Rodney's eyes squeeze tightly closed for a moment, his face still pressed close to Teyla. It's been so hard, to keep everything to himself for all this time - all his grief, his loneliness, his heartbreak. Harder still to play the part, to act out the charade of loss which pales in comparison to what he's really been feeling. He swallows thickly and then blinks rapidly, trying to clear the tears which threaten to overspill his eyes. "I...ah..." he tries to speak, but he has absolutely no idea what to say. What can he say? What should he say?
"It's alright, Rodney," Teyla says. "I just wanted to make sure that you know that whatever the IOA has decided, we are here for you. You are not alone." She gives his arms a quick squeeze before she releases him and steps back.
Rodney looks at her for a moment, still at a loss for words. He pulls in a deep breath and then releases it slowly, just as Teyla has taught him. She smiles gently at this and a dull sense of peace settles over him as he accepts the consolation she is offering. "I know," he answers. And he does, always has, since the very beginning of the nightmare that has become his life. They're the only things holding the despair at bay. "I... ah... thank you," he says at last, clumsily.
"We will get through this, Rodney," Teyla says firmly. "I will see you at the briefing," and, with one last glance at Rodney, she starts to move down the corridor towards her own quarters.
Rodney watches her go and then turns once more towards his door. As it hisses open, he shivers at the rush of cool air from inside which causes his damp skin to goosebump. Moving quickly across the room, he reaches out to shut the open window and then hurries into the bathroom to strip out of his wet clothes and get under the shower. With the hot water pounding over his chilled body, he breathes deeply and tries to prepare himself for actually hearing the words he'd already seen in Elizabeth's eyes.
****
Once he's clean and dressed, Rodney grabs his laptop from his pack and heads down to his lab. Usually following a mission, especially one involving a long hike and copious amounts of mud, he'd indulge himself by lingering in his shower for longer, but he's done very little in the way indulgence recently. Rather, his life has revolved around their search and he has been at the forefront of it, both in terms of the off-world missions and the analysis of the reams of data they've been collating from their scans of the quadrant. If he allows himself to dwell for too long on their results, or lack thereof, thus far, the soul-crushing despair never fails to well up and threaten to drown him.
Zelenka looks up as he enters the lab and Rodney already has one hand outstretched in request for the datapad holding the latest set of scan results which Radek places immediately in his palm. The lab is full and Rodney can see that they're all hard at work as he glances around, the sense of concentration palpable in the air. Before he can focus on the pad Radek's just handed him, Miko appears at his elbow.
"Coffee, Dr McKay?" she asks softly, holding a fresh mug out to him.
Rodney takes the mug and nods to her in thanks. She smiles briefly back at him before returning to her workstation. Even though he's been driving his team of scientists hard since the very start of this nightmare, they've all excelled themselves. Although he'd be loath to admit it out loud, he's damn proud of his whole department. Atlantis' sensor array is now operating at a level of efficiency and sensitivity far beyond its original Ancient design specifications and the work they've done on the ATA-detection scanner and the signal analysis software for the gate network is nothing short of revolutionary.
"It's not much, I know," Radek offers, gesturing towards the scanner. "But we picked up another increase in the particle surge from pulsar; that is interesting, yes?"
Rodney hums in response as he scrolls down the results. "Yes," he says at last. "These readings are interesting, I suppose, just probably not particularly useful. I'll take a closer look at them anyway." He shakes his head in an attempt to clear it, the effects of the mission and the upcoming meeting weighing heavily on his mind. He'll take the data pad away with him, as has become his usual practice, to trawl through the results himself on his own. It's become something of a private ritual, a habit, a way of ensuring himself that he is doing all he can and of, in some small way, reconnecting with what has been lost.
"No," Radek agrees with a sigh. "I do not believe that any of our efforts have picked up anything useful for quite some time now."
Rodney doesn't respond to that; he doesn't quite know how. Radek is right, of course, even with the latest improvements to the city's long-range scanners, the Wraith hiveship activity they are detecting is minimal. Likewise, they haven't had any new ATA hits from the areas of the gate network they've got covered by the new signal detection program. In short, the lab work is starting to prove to be just as useless as the off-world missions. Rodney swallows a groan of frustration and raises a hand to rub at his eyes. He's still working on yet another set of upgrades for their scans, but they're rapidly running out of options. "Okay," he says, taking a deep breath. "Any new ideas?"
Radek shakes his head. "Your latest mission has provided no new leads, I take it?" he asks.
"No," Rodney replies shortly. "Elizabeth's heard from the IOA," he adds softly after a few moments.
Radek's eyes widen at this. "And?" he asks.
Rodney shrugs, avoiding Radek's eyes in favour of looking back down at the screen of the data pad. "She hasn't told us yet. In fact, I'd better get going; she's holding a briefing for us now."
"We will keep working, Rodney," Radek says with a determination equal to that which Ronon had expressed earlier in the day. "No matter what happens, we will keep working."
Rodney raises his head from the screen to meet Radek's gaze and feels his mouth twist into a sad little smile. "I hope so," he says, gripping the pad tightly. "I hope so."
~*~
Three Months Earlier
John watched in amusement as Rodney flitted around his lab gathering together an assortment of Ancient devices which he then deposited on his large work bench beside one of the MALPs. Seeing that Rodney would be lost in his preparations for the time being, John ambled across the room to where he knew Rodney kept the lab's supply of coffee - the quality of which somehow always managed to far surpass that served in either the commissary or Elizabeth's office. Setting up a fresh pot to brew, he allowed his gaze to be drawn back to Rodney, who was now in the process of disassembling the MALP, while he carefully considered his plans for that evening one last time.
Despite appearances to the contrary, John was not given to spur of the moment decisions. Even in the heat of conflict, he would thoroughly weigh up the various potential courses of action before deciding upon which one to take. It was one of the reasons he had survived countless forays into hostile territory and also why he could not truly regret any of his choices in life. Regretting your choices implied that you wished you had done something different, but John had never found that to be the case. He always knew that, at the point in time at which he had made a particular decision, it had been the best one currently available. It was perhaps the one thing for which he could genuinely thank his father - for teaching his son to have the strength of his convictions.
Of course, that was not to say that John was always happy with what he had done, quite the opposite in fact. He had far too many memories which were blighted by the jagged rips of guilt and failure. But the guilt didn't stem from the fact he wished he had done something different, rather it came from the knowledge that, despite having chosen the right path, he was simply unable to deliver; that even having given his all, he was simply not good enough to succeed. His nightmares were haunted by the faces of the people he had disappointed - his father and Nancy, in particular - and those he had failed - Mitch, Dex, Ford, Sumner, along with the countless thousands who now lay dead at the hands of the newly awakened Wraith.
Yet despite his failures, the weight of which he knew he would always carry, John was driven to continue trying. He was committed to doing his duty, be it as a friend, brother in arms, team leader or commanding officer. It heartened him greatly to see that he was not alone in his struggle; to know that every single member of the Atlantis expedition was also giving their all to the mission, be they originally from Earth or a native of Pegasus.
With that in mind, John focused back in on Rodney, who by this time had all but disappeared into the body of the MALP. He appeared to be in the process of re-wiring it and had a wide array of different tools, crystals and wires spread out on the floor all around him. John couldn't help smiling as he watched Rodney work - all ceaseless motion and soft mutterings interwoven with the odd click of fingers and muted exclamation. Rodney was a prime example of someone who gave his all each and ever day. Although it was true that he might not do it as graciously as some, there was no denying Rodney's complete and utter dedication to Atlantis and her people.
Rodney was someone with whom John had worked closely since the very beginning of his involvement with the Atlantis expedition. And, if John was being completely honest with himself, he had to admit that it had been Rodney's boundless enthusiasm for the mission in the face of his equally obvious fears that had gone a long way to persuading John to join. It was Rodney's awe-filled words - think of where we are in the solar system - which John had recalled as he'd contemplated his coin, rather than Elizabeth's well-reasoned arguments or Jack O'Neill's trademark sarcasm. Over the years, John had seen first hand evidence of Rodney's genius - the last minute miracles and inspired solutions which somehow always managed to save the day. Of course, he'd also seen Rodney at his very worst - rude, abrasive, and even dangerously over-confident. Such incidents never failed to anger and disappoint John, but he did understand Rodney's frustrations. Of all the people on Atlantis, he and Rodney had the most similar burdens to carry; they were both active on the front line, in addition to having to lead and inspire their respective teams. So, as furious as disasters such as the destruction of the Dorandan system made him, John knew he was the very last person to be throwing stones. He knew that he too had been just as narrowly-focused as Rodney, just as bewitched with the prospect of a weapon that could end their war with the Wraith once and for all.
Besides which, he was also just about self-aware enough to realise that it would take something even more catastrophic than the destruction of five-sixths of a solar system to irrevocably end his relationship with Rodney. Surprisingly enough, the importance of Rodney to John personally was also a realization he'd come to pretty early on in their time on Atlantis. Somewhere in between experimenting with Ancient gizmos and running for their lives, they'd become friends. And, in the last few months, he'd started to wonder whether there might be even more to it than that.
John would be the first to admit that he tended to be slightly oblivious when it came to the more intimate aspects of personal relationships. He'd always found it difficult to get close to someone, a product, he supposed, of growing up in a reserved household in which public displays of emotion where frowned upon. Sex was easy enough; it had never been a problem for him to find any number of willing partners of either gender. The trouble was with all that ultimately went with sex - the messy tangle of emotions that always seemed to be demanded of him from his partners - emotions which made him freeze up at the crucial point and so always end up alone. In his younger days one-night stands and furtive encounters off-base had been enough for him, but that was before the regulations of service and the burdens of command meant that such dalliances were simply no longer worth the risk.
The trouble was that John was starting to suspect that all those messy emotions, the ones he'd never been able to reciprocate with any of his past lovers, had somehow seemed to have found their way to him after all. And, to make matters even more complicated, they appeared to all be centred around one Rodney McKay.
When he looked back on it, John was no longer sure quite when it had all begun - perhaps it had even started during their very first encounter, when in the sub-zero temperatures of the frozen south it had been Rodney's voice which had shown him the galaxy. Now, not only did John find himself seeking Rodney out during his off-hours, but he was also finding it increasingly difficult to deal with aftermath of situations in which Rodney's life was placed in jeopardy. To his relief, John had found that he had enough faith in his own abilities in the field, not to mention those of his team mates, to know that his judgement in the midst of an incident was as yet unaffected by his feelings, but, nevertheless, he had also noticed that his behaviour afterwards had started to change. Naturally, he cared about all the people under his command, and felt far closer to his team than he did his biological family, but with Rodney things were different somehow - stronger, deeper, more compelling. He found himself wanting to touch Rodney, to reach out and hold him, to reassure them both after every near-miss that they were still alive and together. For someone of John's previous state of emotional detachment, it was disturbing, to say the least.
All that said, John was still somewhat reluctant to put a name to his feelings or his evolving relationship with Rodney beyond that of close friendship. Sure, he knew he loved Rodney, but as yet he was pretty certain it was no more so than a friend loves another friend. Yet John had also had enough experience to know that he did need to resolve things one way or another before they started having an impact on their missions. So, never one to back down from a challenge, John had decided what he needed was just a little more intel about the situation before he finally decided on the best course of action. He needed to try and get a little closer to Rodney and see what Rodney's, and his own, response to an increase in proximity would be.
"Son of a-!" The expletive brought John out of his musings at back to the current state of their subject.
"You doing okay in there, Rodney?" he asked as he crossed over to the side of the MALP and crouched down next to Rodney's hunched form.
With his head stuck into the central cavity of the machine, Rodney appeared to be looking backing and forth from his pad to the MALP's onboard processor and John could just about catch a glimpse of his frown of intense displeasure. At John's interruption, Rodney pushed himself back out of the MALP far enough to transfer his frown to John for a moment, but then, having obviously determined that John was not a sufficiently important target for his ire, he moved his frown back to his pad. John inched a little closer in an effort to see if he could work out the source of Rodney's current irritation. Rodney's pad seemed to be displaying a graph of radio frequencies, but before he could discern anything further the pad was pulled quickly away and in its place appeared a pair of slightly frazzled blue eyes.
"Do you mind?" Rodney snapped. "I am trying to work. The progress of which is not improved by having you hovering at my elbow and breathing down my neck."
"Hey, I was just seeing if I could help," John replied, rocking back on his heels as Rodney proceeded to shoo him away with a series of rapid flicks of his pad.
"Yes, because you are obviously an expert in the fabrication and precise calibration of pulsar EM detectors," he retorted as he turned his attention back to the MALP. "I just need to get this final... Hmm..." Rodney trailed off and started pecking away at his pad with renewed vigour.
"Ah. I'll just get my coffee and be going then, shall I?" John countered.
"Coffee, you say?" Rodney asked, looking back up John again at once, his expression brightening immediately.
Recognising an order when he heard one, John rose to his feet and walked over to the percolator to get them both a cup. Without the immediate distraction of his presence, Rodney took the opportunity to once again disappear inside the MALP.
"Are you coming out of there so you can drink this or do you want me to get a straw?" John asked as he crossed back over to where Rodney was still deeply engrossed in his work. He wafted the coffee-scented steam in Rodney's direction in an attempt to lure him out of the MALP.
"Yes... no... wait, ah, there... got it!" came the stream of mumbled words before Rodney's head finally emerged from the MALP, his hair standing up on end and a triumphant expression on his face.
"Success?" John asked as he set the mugs down on Rodney's workbench and then reached out a hand to help heft Rodney to his feet.
"Yes," Rodney replied, beaming at John and squeezing his hand in his excitement. "I've managed to come up with a way of modifying the MALP's receiver so it can monitor the pulsar's radio waves. I'll need to get a team working on a couple of large electrodes first thing tomorrow, but we should have a working prototype ready to take to the planet."
"And that's good?" John asked.
"It's not just good, it's great!" Rodney enthused, bouncing up on his toes in glee before reaching past John to grab his coffee. "You see, even though the first pulsar was discovered back in the 60s, we still don't really understand how they emit their radiation."
"And you think studying this pulsar can help?" he asked.
"Well, it certainly can't hurt," Rodney replied. "And the data we gather during the trade negotiations will help me put together a probe which we can put into orbit around the pulsar itself."
John grinned. "And hopefully keep you busy enough so you don't end up insulting the entire civilization."
"Hey!" Rodney exclaimed in loud denial, his expression portraying just how wronged he felt by John's accusation.
"P9T-57R." John countered at once. "That's all I'll say."
Rodney's brow creased into frown at the reminder. "Oh," he said. "Well, okay, so perhaps you may have a point."
John just smirked at him.
"But," he continued, raising a finger and starting to wave it at John. "I'll have you know that in that particular case, there were many extenuating circumstances. I mean really, if I'd have known that those people actually liked living in squalor, then let me reassure you that-"
"Rodney," John interrupted quickly, reaching out to catch hold of Rodney's finger and relishing the feel of Rodney's warm skin beneath his palms. "Enough!" Keeping things between them light for the moment, John proceeded to use Rodney's finger to pull him towards the door of the lab. "Come on, you're done, so let's get out of here." With that, he dragged the still protesting Rodney from the lab and towards the transporter.
****
"At first they wondered whether it was evidence of extraterrestrial life, you know," Rodney offered the room at large as the final credits of the Star Trek episode they'd been watching rolled over the screen. He and John had bumped into Teyla and Ronon when they'd stopped by the commissary for some food on their way to John's quarters, and so the evening had turned into an impromptu team TV night.
"Huh?" John asked at the apparent non sequiter.
"The first pulsar discovered," Rodney explained, turning his head to the side so that he could look at John, who was seated next to him. "They called it LGM-1 for 'little green men' and everything."
"Little green men?" Teyla asked from where she was sitting cross-legged on the floor, her back leaning up against John's bed.
John grinned back at Rodney before answering Teyla's question. "It's how people from Earth used to describe people from another planet," he explained. "They thought they'd all have green skin, antennae, and be short."
Ronon snorted at that. "They got it pretty wrong, then," he said, pulling his feet off of John's desk and then standing up.
"Just a bit," John replied with a laugh, looking up at Ronon towering above him. "Although the Asgard do come scarily close," he continued with a shudder.
"But they are natural phenomena, are they not, Rodney?" Teyla asked, turning around so that she now faced the bed where John and Rodney were sitting.
"Pulsars? Yes, entirely. But the seemingly unnatural regularity of the radio wave emissions of the first one discovered was enough to have some people worried. Apparently there was even talk of covering up the data," Rodney rolled his eyes at that. "Thankfully they had more sense. Although sometimes you've got to wonder..." His voice trailed off as he spoke the last few words, shaking his head.
"Hey," John said, trying to lighten the tone a little. "The IOA are getting better," he said, reaching across the bed to flick the little Canadian flag on Rodney's jacket before nodding his head towards Ronon and Teyla.
"Yes, well, I suppose so," Rodney sniffed. "It's not as if they could do without me, anyway."
"Or indeed any of us," Teyla added with a smile.
"Well, I hope you all realise that our success is entirely down to the exceptional talent and expertise of your team leader," John said.
"Oh, yes, of course," Rodney replied sarcastically. "We'd be nothing without you."
John reached out again to smack Rodney upside of the head. "Watch it," he said. "One more comment like that and I'm leaving you to deal with the next gang of pissed-off villagers on your own."
"Yes, and then who are you going to get to repair your favourite jumper, or fix the next broken DHD, or keep this city alight and afloat?" Rodney asked.
"Zelenka," Ronon deadpanned. "Or Miko"
"Hey," Rodney said, turning away from John to glare up at Ronon instead. "Just for that, I'm going to send you to Miko next time you need a new part for your energy pistol. Then, you'll be sorry."
"Now, Rodney," Teyla said, her eyes shining with restrained laughter. "There is no need to be so mean about it."
"I'd apologise if were you, big guy," John added. "Or he might just do that."
Ronon raised an eyebrow at Rodney. "Coffee for a week?" he asked.
"Three," Rodney countered immediately, sitting up straight and narrowing his eyes.
"Two," Ronon responded in counter-offer.
"Deal," Rodney concluded with a nod before slumping back down against the wall in apparent satisfaction.
Teyla shook her head at their exchange and then shot John an amused glance.
"Hey," John protested at Rodney's easy capitulation. "You don't let me off the hook so easy!"
Rodney turned his head to look at John, his eyes narrowing in thought. "So, does this mean you'll do your heroic thing to save me from the rioting farmhands that we'll no doubt encounter tomorrow?"
"Of course it does, Rodney," John replied meekly. "And I'll even supply you with puddings for the next couple of weeks," he offered generously, to sweeten the deal; after all, it wasn't as if he didn't already make sure he always picked up an extra pudding cup precisely so that Rodney could steal it off his tray.
"Hmm," Rodney hummed as if pondering the relative merits of John's offer. "Okay then," he replied at last with a nod. "That would seem to be acceptable. In that case, I will continue to perform my dazzling array of daily miracles, jumper one maintenance included. And," he added as an after thought. "If the puddings were to mostly be chocolate, then I could also possibly see my way clear to acknowledging the fact that you are not entirely useless as a team leader."
"Thank you, Rodney," John replied with a smile, before turning to look at the rest of his team. "So then folks," he continued, "have we got time for one more episode?"
~*~
Present Day
As Rodney makes his way up from the science labs towards the conference room, he finds himself moving more slowly with every step; as if he can somehow delay what surely by now must be the inevitable, simply by delaying his hearing of it. When he at last steps into the gateroom, stopping a minute at the threshold to collect himself, the unusual quiet which has descended over the past three months is almost deafening. And it's not just the people who are quiet. It's not an effect Rodney would have previously anticipated, but Atlantis herself has seemed almost preternaturally quiet- her systems more subdued, her lights dimmer and her responses slower. Rodney knows how she feels - clichéd though it may be, there is no escaping the fact that nothing has been the same since John Sheppard disappeared. And now Rodney fears that what he is about to hear will ensure that it never again will be.
He forces himself into movement again, crossing the room and heading straight up the stairs and towards the conference room without stopping. As he goes, he feels the weight of the gazes from the gateroom crew, but can't find the strength to return any of them. As he reaches the conference room doorway he glances quickly around, noticing that everyone is already there - Elizabeth, Teyla, Ronon and Lorne. Dropping his head again, he moves to his place at the table quickly, avoiding making eye-contact with any of them until he's seated. He then looks straight up towards Elizabeth at the head of the table, pointedly ignoring the empty chair next to his.
"Well?" he asks impatiently. Now that he's here, he realises that he just wants to get this thing over and done with so he can find somewhere private to quietly fall apart. His dread seems to be coalescing into a hard painful knot right in the middle of his chest, the weight of it making it hard to breathe.
"Alright," Elizabeth begins, appearing outwardly calm, her true emotional state betrayed only by the slight quiver in her voice. "I'm going to make a city-wide announcement this evening, but I wanted to speak to you first. I've been in consultation with the IOA governing authority and the US Military all afternoon. Despite my protestations, they have decided to declare Colonel Sheppard officially missing in action and presumed dead. Major Lorne has been formally assigned as the new military commander of the Atlantis Expedition by the USAF and I have been ordered by the IOA to now call off our search teams and return to our regular mission schedule."
Even though this is exactly what Rodney has been expecting, to hear the words actually spoken aloud hits him harder than he had anticipated. The pain in his chest intensifies, suddenly becoming jagged and sharp. This is it then, he thinks, it's over now. Finished. Looking across the table at his team mates, he sees a similar array of emotions flash through their eyes; anger, disbelief, sorrow. Even Lorne, who's had a little more time to adjust to the news, still looks slightly shocked and entirely uneasy.
"They've given up on him." Ronon says flatly into the silence, his stark words perfectly echoing Rodney's thoughts.
"Is there nothing we can do, Elizabeth?" Teyla asks, the entreaty clear in her eyes. "Perhaps if only our team were to keep searching?"
"I'm afraid not," Elizabeth replies, shaking her head slowly. "The decision has been taken completely out of my hands. The IOA is concerned about both the activity of the Wraith here in Pegasus and the escalation of the fight against the Ori in the Milky Way. They are insistent that we start to show some results or they will be seriously reconsidering the cost of resourcing the entire expedition."
"What?!" Rodney shouts, unable to keep silent, grateful even to have a different issue against which to rail. "I don't believe this; they cannot be serious!"
"Rodney, please," Elizabeth says firmly, stopping his outburst before he's even had a chance to warm to it. "I assure you that they are completely serious. So much so that they have gone as far as to suggested areas in which they would like to see progress. Teyla, they want you and me to re-start the negotiations for the mining rights to the mineral deposits on P49-TRK and, Rodney, they have requested that you concentrate your efforts on integrating the Ancient designs you've been working on to the new prototype engine for the new fleet of X-304s."
Rodney blinks as he assimilates the news. "But there's weeks of work there; quite possibly months." He shakes his head a little as his brain quickly flicks through the likely program of work. "And anyway, I thought the guys over at Area 51 were handling the re-fits themselves... Oh," he trails off suddenly as realization hits. "They're splitting us up," he continues at last. "We're no longer a team, even without Jo-... Sheppard."
Elizabeth smiles tightly and gives a sharp nod. "I'm told its temporary, but yes, for the moment the three of you will no longer be working together." Her hands are clenched into tight fists by the time she's finished speaking.
"We will keep a team searching," Lorne says suddenly to the room at large. He's been quiet thus far, but his words now, although softly spoken, are firm. "I'll set up a rotation to ensure we always have a team ready to follow up any leads."
"Yes," Rodney agrees at once, snapping his fingers twice before pointing at Lorne. "Good. I'll sort out a scientist to work with them and keep up the analysis of the data we get from the gates. We can make the whole team part of the Science department's survey division to keep the IOA off our backs."
"Sounds like a plan, doc," Lorne replies with a small smile and a nod.
"Excellent, gentlemen," Elizabeth says, looking between them. "I'll let you work out the details, just keep me informed on your progress. We will, however, have to concentrate the bulk of our efforts on the IOA's requests, but we can discuss all of that more tomorrow. For now, I'd appreciate your support; I need to make the announcement to the rest of the city."
"It's not enough," Rodney mutters under his breath as they file out of the conference room, following Elizabeth to the control centre.
"No," Teyla agrees. "But at least it is something."
****
Although Rodney would have said that it was impossible, Atlantis is even more quiet after Elizabeth's announcement; both civilian and military personnel seemingly in a state of shock. Even though Rodney feels the ache inside him grow yet sharper, its edges cutting deeply into him every time he takes a breath, he heads back down to the labs immediately afterwards; knowing that Elizabeth is right, he needs to be there to support his people. He collects all the Science staff together and repeats the IOA's decisions regarding Sheppard's status before going on to outline the new arrangements for the various sub-departments. His people take the news as well as can be expected, accepting their new assignments, either to continue with their off-world teams and their research or to become part of the new X-304 engineering team, with only a few complaints.
"Before you all go," Rodney calls out, somewhat awkwardly, just as the meeting is drawing to a close. "I just... I wanted to say that, well, that I know the last... the last few months have been difficult, but... but you've all done... a remarkable job and, well, ah... thank you."
He intends to leave it there, to make his way out of the lab and... well, just go somewhere, anywhere, else, but is prevented from escaping by the fact that his staff all remain firmly rooted in place. He notices Miko starting to come towards him, looking dangerously close to tears and, even more alarmingly, like she's going to try to hug him. Determined to nip her, and anyone else's, attempts to comfort him in the bud, he quickly crossed his arm over his chest and scowls his most ferocious scowl. "Well?" he shouts to the crowd at large. "You all have plenty to do - go get on with it!"
Thankfully, that gets them moving, although a fair number still seems intent on approaching Rodney. To his immense relief, Radek steps forward almost immediately to handle their queries. Casting Radek a grateful glance, Rodney is finally able to make his escape without having to deal with either the suffocating sympathy or chronic questions of his staff.
Despite his desire for solitude, the prospect of returning to his quarters fills Rodney with dread - they are too full of memories, of happy times with John, with his team and of their laughter. So, instead, he finds himself wandering Atlantis' corridors, his mind numb and his chest still painfully tight. As he exits one of the transporters on the upper levels of the central spire, one of the balcony doors glides smoothly open, seemingly of its own volition, beckoning Rodney out into the night. It's late and the moon is high in the sky, the combined light of it and the city outshining most of the stars.
Obeying the summons, Rodney walks over to the balcony's edge and leans over the bars, propping himself up on his forearms. He looks down on the city and sighs, wishing there was a way that he could purge his memories of the last few months. Or, better still, go back in time and change things completely. He feels exhausted and rung dry - it's almost as if every spark of his inspiration had disappeared along with John in that flash of the Wraith culling beam. Not that he hasn't done good work since, far from it in fact - his design of the gene signal detection algorithm that they've uploaded into practically every gate in the quadrant is nothing short of a work of pure genius - but it isn't enough. Just like the countless missions they've embarked upon, the myriad of contacts they've questions, the innumerable number of hive ships they've scanned and readings they've taken - all ultimately useless. John Sheppard remains lost to Atlantis... and to Rodney.
"Doc? Rodney?" The sound of his name, along with the hiss of the opening doors, pulls Rodney out of his maudlin thoughts. He straightens and turns his head to find Lorne watching him from the doorway, his head tilted in inquiry.
"Something I can do for you, Major?" Rodney asks, turning around fully and indicating with an impatient twirl of his hands that Lorne should get to the point.
"You alright?" Lorne asks as he joins Rodney in the open air.
Rodney sighs at the inevitable and seemingly interminable question, turning once again to stare out over the glowing city and the dark ocean beyond. "Not really, no," he answers with his usual brusqueness, hoping that his brash honesty will chase the Major away, as it does so many other people. After all, they've never been particularly close. He's always had the feeling that, in the past, Lorne has merely tolerated him, and more for John's sake than for anything he himself has done. That said, they have spent the past few months working closely together in the search for John, and Rodney has found that they've managed to form a reasonably solid working relationship.
However, it would appear that it is not Rodney's day to be left in peace as Lorne, rather than taking Rodney's decidedly unsubtle hint that he wants to be left alone, walks over to stand beside him. "Yeah, I hear you. It's been a fucking awful day," he says, his hands gripping the balcony railing tightly, the knuckles white with tension.
Rodney glances up at Lorne's face for a moment, but then looks quickly away, not wanting to intrude on the man's grief, despite the fact that it's Lorne who has first intruded on his. Instead, they both stand in silence looking out into the night.
"He'd have been glad that it's you," Rodney offers at last, never one particularly comfortable in the silent presence of others. "To take his place, I mean. Glad it's you in particular of course, but also glad that it is one of our own taking command, rather than someone that the SCG has sent, someone who doesn't know or understand our city."
Lorne turns to look at Rodney, his shock clear on his face. "Wow," he says, obviously before he's had time to think his response through. "I mean... just... well, thanks."
Rodney shrugs and waves away Lorne's gratitude, feeling the corner of his mouth tug up a little. "It's the truth," he says. "But more than that, it's the right decision. You'll do a good job, Major."
Lorne comes almost to attention at Rodney's prediction. "I'll do my best," he says, his words holding the seriousness of oath.
Rodney nods his agreement, part of him wondering quite when he became the bearer of solace in Atlantis - first his Science team and now the new military commander. The things I do for you, John Sheppard, he thinks to himself as his mind runs through the years he's spent on Atlantis at John's side and all the crazy schemes and plans in which they both somehow always managed to find themselves slap bang in the middle. He wonders just how he is going to manage now that he's alone.
"And we will keep looking," Lorne continues, just as committedly as before. "No matter what the IOA or SCG orders - as long as there's still reason to believe he's still out there, we will keep looking."
Rodney thinks back to the lab reports Radek had handed him earlier in the day, wondering if there is indeed still reason to believe that John still is alive somewhere out there. He'll need to sit down and review all the findings in detail. Of course someone has already looked through them, but this is not something Rodney is happy to leave completely in the hands of others. He isn't quite sure why, but it is very important to him that if anything were to be found, regardless of whether it was positive or the opposite, that he be the one to confirm it. Until then, Lorne is right.
"Yes," he murmurs, more to himself that to Lorne. "As long as there's hope, we keep looking."
~*~
Three Months Earlier
John's attention was focused primarily on Rodney, rather than the action taking place on the small screen in front of them. During the course of the last hour, Rodney had managed to slide increasingly further down and he was now lying almost horizontally, listing dangerously to the right with his legs splayed out in front of him and his head scant inches from John's left hip. And, as endearing as Rodney might look in his sleep, John knew that he'd be a right pain in the ass once he awoke and started bitching about the state of his back. The question was, how best to wake him?
He heard a movement from across the way and looked over to see Ronon grinning at him with a wicked gleam in his eyes. As John watched, Ronon slowly balled up a piece of paper from the pad on John's desk and threw it towards Rodney. It hit Rodney square on the nose, making him flail briefly in his sleep, but not fully awaken. Trying to restrain his laughter, John aimed a mock scowl over at Ronon before looking over at Teyla to whisper, "Sort him out, would you? He's gonna cost me my jumper repair if he's not careful."
But Teyla, as it turned out, was not much help. Looking decidedly mischievous herself, she pulled a pin out from her hair, shaking it loose and letting it cascade freely down her back. Having done that, she turned towards the bed and, very quickly, ran the tip of the hair pin up the sole of Rodney's sock covered foot.
"Wha-," Rodney said, jerking upright suddenly, his arms flying and managing to almost hit John in the face with his right hand as he did so.
"Hey, watch it there, buddy," John complained, capturing Rodney's still flailing hand with both of his. "I'm nothing but an innocent bystander here."
Rodney turned to blink at him in a dazed fashion, sleep obviously still fogging his mind. "Huh?" he asked, looking down at where John was holding his hand and then back up into John's face, his confusion at the situation evident.
John squeezed his hand once before releasing it, noting as he did so the slight dilation of Rodney's pupils and the pink tinge that bloomed across his cheeks. He filed that bit of information away, interested that Rodney's body seemed not entirely unaffected by his touch.
Rodney blinked again, awareness slowly starting to sharpen his gaze. He shook his head, turning to look at Teyla and Ronon before glancing back at John. "Innocent, you?" he snorted. "Please, I'm not buying that for a minute, Colonel." His eyes narrowed as he waved a hand and cast another accusing glare in Teyla and Ronon's direction. "And don't either of you think that you're beyond suspicion either."
"We were merely trying to wake you as the position you were in was likely to cause you pain," Teyla replied, her eyes alight with amusement.
"Cause us pain with his complaining more like," Ronon mumbled none too quietly, only to receive a sharp stab in the side with Teyla's hairpin. He glared at her, but she merely raised an eyebrow at him in response.
"Hmm, very thoughtful of you all, I'm sure," Rodney replied, but he still sounded slightly suspicious. He arched his back, resting his hands on the hollow of his lower back and groaning softly as he stretched out the kinks.
"You okay?" John asked, a little concerned despite knowing that Rodney had a tendency to blow small, inconsequential things out of all proportion.
Rodney was still rubbing his lower back and wincing, but then he relaxed back down beside John with a sigh. "Yes, it's not been too bad recently," he said.
At Rodney's words, Teyla looked up and smiled at him. "The techniques are truly working then, Rodney?" she asked.
"Yes," Rodney replied. "As much as I would like to put the effect down to mere a placebo, I have to admit that I am having much less trouble."
"I am glad to hear it," Teyla said. "I have been showing Rodney some of the relaxation positions and breathing techniques that many bantos masters have found helpful for relieving tension in their backs," she explained to John.
"Oh, that's good," John said, surprised but pleased to hear that Rodney and Teyla were spending some of their free time together.
"So, the episode's over then," Rodney said, gesturing towards the screen.
"'fraid so, buddy. But don't worry, they managed to save the day," John replied.
"Yes, and I should be going," Teyla added, rising gracefully to her feet and smiling at John. "Thank you for a pleasant evening," she said. "I will see you all at breakfast tomorrow."
Ronon got to his feet as well. "Before breakfast, okay Sheppard?" he asked.
"Wouldn't miss it for the world," John replied with a grin of anticipation; he was getting closer to beating Ronon on their final sprint.
"You're both mad," Rodney commented, looking between the two of them and shaking his head.
"You should come with us, McKay," Ronon told him. "It'd do you good."
"Thank you, but no," Rodney replied firmly. "I have plenty enough to do already tomorrow morning before our mission without adding trying to keep up with the pair of you idiots while you run around the city - I get quite enough of that on missions."
"Your loss," Ronon said with a shrug. "Night."
"Good night," Teyla added, following Ronon out the door with a smile for Rodney and John.
John waved them both off and turned to look at Rodney, wondering whether he would be leaving now too. Rodney was staring in the direction of John's now-closed door, his eyes unblinking and slightly unfocused. Shifting so he was sitting on the edge of the bed right at Rodney's side, John reached out and waved his hand in front of Rodney's face. "Hey, buddy," he said. "You in there?"
"Oh, what, yes," Rodney said, blinking rapidly before lifting a hand to bat John's away in a distracted manner. He patted his hands up and down his chest, a frown creasing his features. "A-ha," he said at last, producing a pen from some place in his uniform jacket, uncapping hit with his teeth and then grabbing Ronon's screwed up ball of paper from the bed beside him. "Come on," he said impatiently, twirling the hand holding the pen around in a circle at John. "Turn around; I've just had a breakthrough and I need to get this idea down quickly."
"O-kay," John said slowly, doing as Rodney had indicated, but not really understanding quite what he wanted. It all became clear when he felt Rodney's large hands on his back, the heat of them bleeding through the thin material of his t-shirt to the bare skin beneath as Rodney evened out the piece of paper using John's back as a flat surface.
"I've a perfectly good desk about three feet away, you know," John told Rodney, but the only reply he got was an irritated shushing sound followed by the sharp pressure of a pen tip against his shoulder blade as Rodney began to write.
Tilting his head to one side, John tried to figure out what exactly it was that Rodney was writing, but besides the fact that it was obviously both very important - as evidenced by the speed with which Rodney was scribbling - and very complex - again, self-evident in the way in which Rodney was mumbling to himself under his breath as he scribbled - John could not make any of it out.
"So, you gonna fill me in on this breakthrough, or does the furniture not get a share in the glory?" John asked, turning his head even further to attempt to look at Rodney over his shoulder. All he got for his efforts was a thwack on the back of the head with Rodney's pen. "Hey!" he complained.
"Just let me finish," Rodney pleaded. "I've been working on this theoretical algorithm for weeks... I just need to get the final stages down and then..." Rodney trailed off as his scribbling picked up pace again.
"Yeah, okay then," John said, giving in to the inevitable and letting Rodney work. Besides, it wasn't as if it was unpleasant, feeling Rodney pressed up so close behind him. John let his eyes drift closed and gave himself over to the pleasure of Rodney's proximity. It was all part of his recon objective, after all.
Rodney was very close indeed; John could feel the heat emanating from Rodney's body all the way down his back. The slightly uncomfortable pressure from Rodney's pen tip had faded away into insignificance when compared to the hot pressure of his hands on John's body. Rodney had his left hand splayed wide on John's left shoulder blade, presumably holding his paper in place, and John could feel the length of Rodney's right forearm along his spine as Rodney braced himself against John so he could write properly. John could tell that Rodney was completely engrossed again with his work; he had gone back to mumbling softly to himself and John could feel the hot brush of the words on the nape of his neck. John shivered in awareness, the first trickles of arousal starting to trip down his spine.
As he'd expected, John found that his reaction to Rodney didn't surprise him in the slightest. If anything, he felt some small measure of relief to finally be able to confirm the previously rather amorphous feelings he'd been having about Rodney. As Rodney continued to innocently touch him, John found that his arousal continued to build, sparks of pleasure spreading from the contact down to his groin where his cock twitched a little in anticipation. Enjoying the slow burn, John allowed himself to relax back into the comforting pressure of Rodney's hands.
"Okay, done," Rodney crowed triumphantly some time later, pulling his hands away from John's back so quickly that John fell back into Rodney before he had time to catch himself. He landed heavily across Rodney's lap, looking up into Rodney's face. Surprised at the sudden and far more intimate position, John found himself frozen in position for a moment. Rodney was looking down at him in equal shock, his eyes wide and very blue as they stared into John's and, for a moment, John couldn't breathe. He licked his lips, trying to work out what to say, and then became totally distracted as he watched with fascination as Rodney's eyes darkened, his pupils dilating as they followed the movements of John's tongue. So, it would appear that he was not the only one whose feelings went beyond those of friendship; his arousal edged up another notch.
Clearing his throat, John sat up reluctantly, still uncertain of just how far he was willing to push things tonight. "Sorry about that, buddy," he said with a lightness he didn't feel. He slanted a glance over at Rodney, noting Rodney's embarrassment almost immediately in the hot blush that was streaking his cheeks.
"Um," was Rodney's only reply. His head still bent down over his lap and he seemed to be studiously avoiding John's gaze.
"So, you got what you needed to do done?" John asked, nodding his head towards the now calculation covered page in Rodney's hand in an attempt to distract Rodney from his embarrassment.
"What? Oh, yes," Rodney replied, glancing at his equations before finally looking over at John, albeit still a little nervously. "It's the final stages of a signal analysis proof I've been wrestling with for the better part of a month. It's actually quite fascinating because it may give us a way to use the gate network to track certain signals..."
John smiled to himself and let Rodney's excited flood of physics flow over him. From the look of him, Rodney had already overcome his previous awkwardness as he lost himself in his explanation of the intricacies involved in identifying potential signals from the background noise associated with wormhole formation. As for himself, John was finding it somewhat more difficult to let go of his response to having found himself practically in Rodney's arms. And watching Rodney come alive with the joy of his subject, his eyes shining, his hands waving and the slight flush still on his cheeks, was not helping matters. John was suddenly beset with the need to reach out, capture Rodney's hands in his like he had not long ago, and pull Rodney into his arms.
"John?"
John didn't realise he was staring until Rodney's use of his first name penetrated his consciousness. He shook his head, trying to clear his lust-befuddled brain.
"Um," Rodney was saying, looking uncomfortable once again and shifting forward as if he was about to get off the bed. "Perhaps I should get going. I'm sorry if I... I mean, I think that maybe I... um... shouldn't ha-"
"No!" John interrupted quickly, the vehemence of his response causing Rodney to fall silent immediately and look at John with wide-eyed amazement. "I... no," John repeated, suddenly not caring that he might not have everything planned out, only certain that he didn't want Rodney to leave, not like this. "Don't go."
"O-kay," Rodney agreed slowly, shooting John a puzzled glance, but sitting back down properly again nevertheless. "Are... um... are you okay?"
John shook his head; "Yes," he said.
"Okay," Rodney repeated, peering at him closely. "So, that made absolutely no sense."
"Actually," John replied softly, more to himself than to Rodney, "it makes perfect sense."
"Wha-"
John didn't let Rodney even start his next question, he didn't want any more questions - be they Rodney's or his own. Instead, John leaned forward and silenced Rodney by the simple efficiency of covering Rodney's mouth with his own. And, as soon as he did so, the shot of pure pleasure which bolted through his system was sufficient to silence all his remaining doubts about whether or not this was the right thing to do.
The kiss was deep from the very beginning, John pushing his way past Rodney's speech-opened lips to taste him fully. For his part, Rodney reciprocated almost at once, starting only momentarily before submitting to John by opening his mouth wider to the insistent thrust of John's tongue. John felt the thrill of arousal surge even higher at the touch of Rodney's large hands on his shoulders, holding on to him as Rodney moaned his approval into John's mouth. Feeling his cock start to twitch and lengthen, John reached out in return, wrapping his hands around Rodney's biceps, his thumbs stroking over the bulge of muscle. They fitted together effortlessly, complementing each other perfectly, just as they did in the field - Rodney providing the inspiration and John taking care of the action. Without breaking the kiss, John started pushing Rodney back down on to the bed with a steady pressure. When he had Rodney lying down fully across his bed, John finally pulled back from the kiss and sat back on his knees next to Rodney, watching him.
Rodney lay on John's bed panting and looking slightly dishevelled, gazing up at John with his blue eyes dark with lust. His mouth was still wet and open from John's kiss and John's cock surged immediately to full hardness as the sight. For a few beats, it seemed as though neither could do more than stare at the other, but then John noticed the first doubts starting to creep into Rodney's mind - his eyes widening with dawning worry and an embarrassed blush start tinge his cheeks. A small part of John, the part that had been drilled into him during his training and which dealt with tactical retreats and temporary surrenders, informed him that now was his chance to stop this if he wanted to things to go no further. He could end it now; draw back, makes some excuse, apologise and send Rodney on his way. Hell, he could probably even make Rodney take the blame for the kiss. But John had never been any good at listening to that part of himself - backing down had never held much appeal even in the worst of situations, and this was far from that. Besides which, John found that stopping now was the very last thing he wanted. What he wanted, plain and simple, was Rodney.
Decision made, John wasted no more time. Reaching down, he grabbed the hem of his t-shirt out from the waist-band of his BDUs and pulled it over his head, tossing it to the floor. He then looked back at Rodney, wanting to make sure that Rodney was okay with where things were going. Rodney's gaze was riveted on John's chest, all traces of nervousness gone completely.
"Well, get on with it," Rodney said impatiently, reaching out his arms to beckon John down towards him.
Laughing, John went, stretching his body out alongside Rodney's more than willingly. Rodney turned over on his side so that they were lying facing on another. He reached out with one hand to touch John's face, gently tracing the curve of John's cheek before leaning forward to bring their mouths together. The kiss was slower this time, just as deep as before, but without any of its underlying uncertainty. Now, they were both committed.
Rodney's hand continued its downward journey; his hot, blunt fingertips ghosting down John's neck, along his clavicle before dipping lower to thumb at John's nipple. John moaned at the touch as Rodney continued to circle his sensitive skin with slow, languid strokes of his thumb. He pushed his chest out further into Rodney's caresses, whilst at the same time thrusting his hips forwards, his cock hard and leaking and desperate for the friction of Rodney's body. Rodney appeared to be only to happy to oblige because he moved his top leg forward at once, pushing it between John's thighs and giving John's dick something hard to rut against. John groaned and did just that, his hips flexing as he started to rub himself off on Rodney. It felt amazing, even more so when Rodney's hips starting moving in counter-point to John's and John felt the hard length of Rodney's erection grind into him in return. Rodney's hand moved on as well, repositioning itself proprietarily on the curve of John's ass and encouraging the motion of John's hips. The heat from Rodney's body was all-enveloping; with his searing kisses, the hot rub of his hand, and the scorching length of his cock where it was pushed up against John's leg, it felt like he was branding John with his touch.
John felt his passion start to spiral out of his control as he flexed his ass back into Rodney's hand and then thrust forward to rub his dick against Rodney's thigh. His cock was leaking steadily in his pants, the scratch of the material just on the edge of what was comfortable against the sensitive head. Realising just how close he was getting to coming, John forced himself to unclench the hand he had fisted in Rodney's jacket. He tugged impatiently at the material, needing to feel Rodney's skin against his own. "Your turn," he managed to gasp out before moving back in to kiss to Rodney again, unable to keep away.
Rodney huffed a breath of laughter into John's mouth and then pulled back himself. "Yeah, god, John, yes," he agreed, his voice rough. Despite his agreement, Rodney's hands seemed entirely unwilling to release John. Rather than removing his own clothing as John wanted, Rodney instead started work on John's pants. Popping the top button with a quick flick, Rodney then eased down John's zipper and parted the material. John inhaled a shaky breath as he watched Rodney reach his big, warm hand to into John's boxers and palmed John's cock firmly. John threw back his head and bit down on his lower lip hard with the effort to keep from coming. Rodney's hand felt utterly perfect wrapped around his dick and it was taking every ounce of John's self-control to remain still when all he wanted to do was thrust himself mindlessly into the Rodney's hand until he spilled his load all over it.
"That's... ah... not quite what... uh... I meant," John gritted, refraining somehow from moving even as Rodney started to pump his dick with a leisurely rhythm. "Please, Rodney," he begged again, his hands making a fumbling attempt to get into Rodney's BDUs. "You with me."
John's plea obviously succeeded in getting though to Rodney as he pulled back just enough to allow John to get at his pants properly. This time John's shaking hands did manage to open them and free Rodney's erection, the tip already poking out of the rim of his boxers, dark red and swollen with need. Together they pushed each other's pants out of the way sufficiently so that they could push their dicks together. John gasped Rodney's name as Rodney reached between them to collect their cocks together in his hand.
"You too; with me." Rodney's words were whispered into John's mouth and John grunted his agreement, his hand already reaching down to join Rodney's. Together, fingers meshed and arms and hips pumping in tandem, they worked their cocks as the pleasure built to almost unbearable heights. Rodney came first, the frantic final pulses of his dick and the hot splash of his come landing thickly on John's belly serving only to prompt John's own release scant seconds later, his climax screaming through him and leaving him leaning heavily into Rodney, his breath coming in hard pants and his vision decidedly fuzzy around the edges.
"So," Rodney said uneasily as the silence between them stretched. "That was... um..."
"Good," John finished for him firmly. "That was good, Rodney. Great, even."
"Yes, really," John said as he stood up, shucked off the remainder of his clothes and then grabbed a damp cloth from the bathroom.
"Well, okay then. But, um, maybe I should just... you know..." Rodney trailed off, but cast a glance towards John's door in lieu of actually speaking the words.
"Shh," John replied at once, shaking his head as he got back in bed and started divesting Rodney of his clothes. "Plenty of time for that later; I've gotta be up bright and early to meet Ronon anyway, remember? Looks like you'll be joining us after all."
Rodney groaned as if in pain at John's words, but he used the proffered towel nevertheless and then reached out to pull John close, pressing a sleepy kiss to his temple. John knew that his grin must be entirely goofy but, as it was dark and he was wrapped up tight Rodney's arms, he couldn't bring himself to care.
****
Although he knew that he shouldn't have been unprepared for the sight, John couldn't help releasing a yelp of surprise when he walked through the gateroom door to run slap-bang into the scanning arm of Rodney's newly re-modelled MALP. It did, however, give him some small measure of comfort to find that he was able to get in a retort to Rodney's no doubt imminent complaint before Rodney was even able to formulate it.
"If you don't want people to step on your toys, Rodney, then you shouldn't leave them lying all over the floor." John laughed as Rodney pulled a face at him, his sense of well-being only increasing by the complete lack of awkwardness between them despite what had happened the night before. Indeed, any worries John might have had about the wisdom of having sex with his best friend had been entirely alleviated that morning by Rodney behaving in such a Rodney-like fashion. As soon as John's alarm had awoken them, Rodney had wasted no time in tipping John out of bed before proceeding to commandeer John's bathroom, having left John with strict instructions to brew the coffee. Once washed, dressed and caffeinated, Rodney had then sent John off on his morning run with a long lingering kiss, which had left John very tempted to forgo his run in favour of dragging Rodney back to his bed, and had himself headed cheerfully down to his lab.
"And you should look where you're going; I'm rather busy here, you know," Rodney huffed to John in exasperation before turning back to the gaggle of scientists clustered around him. He started yelling at them to get the MALP moving again, his arms waving wildly as he directed them in its positioning. "Okay, let's do a final test run," he ordered. "You might want to stand back for this bit," he added to John in an undertone before turning back to his staff. "Right," he said, pulling out his scanner and pressing a few keys in quick succession. "Deploy the electrodes."
Backing up quickly, John watched as a large metal pole emerged from the MALP, elongating much like a car's radio antennae. "Looking good, people," Rodney proclaimed gleefully, glancing up from his scanner to beam at his MALP. He then turned towards a much smaller, but otherwise identical-looking pole that was propped up next to the stargate, surrounded by Radek and Miko. "How's yours doing?" he asked.
"Also, looking good, Rodney," Radek replied, likewise grinning in scientific excitement. "I think you are good to go."
"Excellent," Rodney said, bouncing up on his toes. "Right, that's a wrap; good work everyone. Let's cut the power and prep the electrodes for transport."
As Rodney's people scrambled to obey, John took the opportunity to amble across the gateroom to Ronon and Teyla, noting that they'd wisely chosen to stand well clear of Rodney's MALP and its associated chaos. "You sure that thing's going to go down okay on P57-4PQ?" he asked Teyla, nodding his head towards Rodney's contraption.
"It should not cause a problem," Teyla replied. "I believe that the Catarans have achieved a moderate level of technological advancement, not anything like Atlantis, or even the Genii, of course," she clarified, "but enough so that they shouldn't be unduly alarmed by any of our technology."
"Maybe they won't," Ronon said, looking at the adapted MALP with its large antenna with a somewhat nervous expression on his face. "But I'm not sure I like the look of it much."
John glanced over at Ronon in surprise. "I didn't think there was much that could scare you, let alone something of Rodney's," he said.
Even more surprising was the flush that then started to appear on Ronon's face. "Yeah, well," he mumbled. "It's those poles," he explained, gesturing towards the two large antennae with the barrel of his energy pistol. "They remind me of Tenlana district on Sateda.
"Ah, of course," Teyla said, nodding knowingly. "And the incident with your weeble when you were a child."
Ronon ducked his head, as if even further embarrassed by Teyla's revelation. "Yeah."
John shook his head, glancing between Ronon and Teyla in bewilderment before resigning himself to never completely understanding his team mates.
"Hey!" Rodney shouted from across the room where he and Radek were still busy fussing with the MALP, his glare focused on Ronon's un-holstered gun. "Watch where you're pointing that thing! I'll have you know that these are extremely sensitive and delicately calibrated pieces of equipment I have here."
Ronon grunted, but put his weapon away.
"You guys ready?" John checked and, at their confirming nods, he turned and shouted to Rodney. "Get a move on, Rodney. We're all ready to go here."
"Yes, yes," Rodney replied vaguely, flapping in John's general direction as he finished his conversation with Radek. He then conducted a final visual check of the MALP and the rest of his equipment before trotting over to John's side, still beaming.
In the face of Rodney's exuberance, John found he couldn't help but grin back. In fact, John was feeling pretty good with life in general at the moment; his team was prepped and read for what promised to be a fairly standard mission, he'd managed to keep up with Ronon for the entire length of their run that morning, and he and Rodney had just enjoyed fabulous sex the night before. Yeah, Wraith aside, life was looking pretty damn good.
"So, this is what you were up at the crack of dawn doing," he said to Rodney, gesturing towards the MALP and bumping Rodney's shoulder companionably with his own.
"Well," Rodney replied, lifting his chin in a self-satisfied manner. "I did have to do something to stop myself getting dragged round the city by you two deluded fitness freaks."
"Colonel," Elizabeth's calm voice broke through the gateroom melee. "Are you ready to go?"
"As ready as we'll ever be," John replied, doing a final once-over of his team with a practiced eye. "Dial her up."
"Good luck," Elizabeth called as the stargate lit up and the wormhole splashed into place.
Teyla and Ronon headed out straight away, their routine for surveying the terrain implemented flawlessly thanks to the practice of many missions.
"Come on, now Rodney," John chivvied as Rodney seemed to have become engrossed in a last-minute check of his equipment. He nudged Rodney ahead of him with his elbow. "Quit lusting over your MALP and get moving. The sooner we got through the gate the sooner you can start playing with your pulsar scans."
Rodney gave the MALP a final affectionate look, whacked John with its remote control, and then started heading towards the event horizon alongside the ambling MALP. John watched both disappear through the wormhole with a couple of satisfying pops, before turning to send Elizabeth a jaunty salute.
"We'll be back before you know it," he promised. Then, grinning at her look of exasperated fondness, John followed his team through the gate.
~*~
Present Day
It's late when Rodney finally leaves his balcony refuge and heads back to his quarters; the emotional impact of the day finally starting to take its toll and forcing him to make his way towards his bed despite his reluctance to return to his quarters. He tries to avoid making any eye contact with any of the other expedition members he meets in the corridors, walking briskly with his face buried in his PDA. He's vaguely aware of the odd sympathetic glance being directed his way, mostly by his own scientists, but is thankful when he manages to make it to his quarters without actually having to speak to anyone.
As the doors hiss shut behind him, Rodney surveys his quarters with tired eyes. They're a mess; coffee mugs, powerbar wrappers, clothes, various pads, and even a couple of laptops are strewn over almost every available surface. It's another indication of just how bad things have got because, no matter what the stereotypical view of a genius might be, Rodney is neat. Usually. It's not something he does consciously, but rather is an extension of how his brain naturally works - as natural to him as his neatly numbered equations, precisely plotted schematics, and organized and ordered lab work - and this meticulousness with which he pursues his vocation is something Rodney has also always implemented automatically in every corner of his life. Except for the past few months, during which he has been unable to focus on anything other than the search for John. And now, it seems that that too is about to change.
Looking around the wreck of his quarters, Rodney realises that the IOA's dictates mean that he will now have to try and regain at least some semblance of his equilibrium - the redesign of the prototype X-304 systems to incorporate Ancient technologies being no mean feat. He doesn't know if will be able to do it - not the work itself, of course, but what doing the work also involves. Giving up; losing hope; accepting John's loss.
He knows that Heightmeyer would probably say he is in denial, and, yes, he probably is. Hell, from what he's seen thus far, the whole of Atlantis is in denial right along with him - everyone from his newest scientist to Elizabeth herself, all of them railing against an indifferent IOA for whom the loss of an individual, even one as high ranking as Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard, is more of an inconvenience than anything else. But the IOA's ultimatum has forced the issue. Up until today they could all still fool themselves; bury their heads in the sand and let themselves believe that, even after all this time, the intel of Teyla's contacts, the results of Rodney's scans, and the sheer determination of every single expedition member to never leave a man behind, will somehow be enough for them to find John.
Finding John - that deceptively simple dictate has been what has consumed him for what seems like forever. Looking down at the pad he's still holding tightly, Rodney wonders again whether he is ready to let that go. He knows what he should do. He should put this pad aside and trust the conclusions of his scientists that there is no further clue here as to John's location. He should clean his quarters, finally putting to rest all the clutter and debris, the outward signs of an ultimately futile quest, and turn his mind instead to Ancient schematics and X-304 systems designs. He should go to bed and attempt to catch up on three months worth of lost sleep in preparation for the new challenges that tomorrow brings. He should let John go.
But when has he ever done what he should? At least where John Sheppard is concerned.
So, instead, he shoulders out of his uniform jacket and lets it fall carelessly to the floor. Moving over to his desk, he pushes a pile of clutter from the chair onto the floor and takes a seat. And there, amongst the remains of three months of fruitless searching, Rodney opens up the data files on the pad and continues to cling to his hope.
Despite his fatigue, Rodney finds that he is able to make steady progress through the data. For some reason, the pages of impersonal numbers provide him with more comfort than any of the more personal attempts of his friends and colleagues. Besides, it's not like he'd be able to sleep yet, anyway. Not without being haunted by the memories of the last night of truly good sleep he had - wrapped up safely in John's bed and in his arms. He's never really been a good sleeper; his active brain always too eager to keep working away on any number of ideas even when all Rodney wants is for it to shut up so he can attain unconsciousness. It is only when he finds himself on the very brink of exhaustion that his mind finally falls sufficiently silent for sleep. Since John's disappearance, Rodney has learned to be grateful for his insomnia, filling the long hours between shifts with a huge variety of projects, all of which he hoped would lead them to wherever John had been taken.
After having reviewed the latest scan sets in detail, Rodney finds himself having to reluctantly agree with Radek's assessment - none of it seems promising. The regular jumper patrols still have yet to encounter the hiveship which had attacked during their mission to P57-4PQ. Although, this fact in and of itself was something that was starting to concern Rodney. The presence of the millisecond pulsar in P57-4PQ 's system meant that it should have been relatively easy to track the hiveship to which they had assumed John had been transported during the culling. The residual effects the star's powerful magnetic field would have left on the hive's hull should have enabled Rodney to pin-point its location within hours of the attack. However, despite numerous sensor scans, both from the planet and Atlantis, there was simply no sign of a hiveship thus highlighted. It was odd, to say the least. Odd enough that Rodney was beginning to wonder if there even ever had been a hiveship in orbit.
"But there must have been one there," Rodney muses to himself under his breath. "The darts didn't come through the gate, there are no other gates in close proximity to the planet, so there had to have been a hiveship somewhere in the system." He sighs and rubs his tired eyes; this is getting him nowhere - the overwhelming sense of loss and lack of sleep making him grasp desperately at entirely improbably conclusions. Still, some small part of him can't help wondering, 'It was a culling, wasn't it?'
He closes down the hiveship activity report and turns to the readings from the network of ATA-gene sensors they've inputted into the software protocols of gates across the sector - the system that should alert them if anyone with a strong ATA-gene was to step through any of the marked stargates. Again there's nothing - no sign that anyone with an ATA-gene has been through any of the gates they've got monitored, other than the Atlantis gate and those which SGA teams have visited on missions, of course. These observations, and ones like it taken during the past months, do seem to reinforce the conclusion that John had been taken during the culling, mysterious untraceable hiveship notwithstanding.
Finally, Rodney turns to the data they are still receiving from the MALP he'd stationed on P57-4PQ to take readings from the pulsar. As he scrolls through the various data, he again has to agree with Radek's conclusion - things are looking rather odd here. Now, although Rodney does have to acknowledge that practical cosmology is not a field in which he's worked for a fair few years now - the necessities of life on Atlantis pulling on his talents as an engineer and theoretical physicist far more frequently - even his admittedly rusty eye can spot that the data from the star is unlike anything he's ever seen or read before. The EM emissions remain consistent, at least as consistent as they can from a millisecond pulsar, but in addition to the radio bursts, the MALP has also started picking up some truly odd readings - the flux of particles from the neutron star has a very strange composition. It's certainly something that piques Rodney's curiosity, but he can't see how it can possibly be connected to John's disappearance. So, he merely makes a note of it with the intention of assigning one of his astrophysicists to look into the phenomenon and closes down the final set of results.
As Rodney stares at the now blank screen of his pad, his work now truly finished for the evening, he feels his exhaustion finally hit him fully. It is enough; he'll be able to sleep now. Even though he might not have found the answers he needs, he has done enough to be able to fall into his bed, close his eyes and just disappear for a few short hours without feeling like he's abandoning John.
Because he's not; he can't.
****
When Rodney feels awareness creep up on him the next morning, he's up and out of bed almost at once. In the past, he might have remained where he was, allowing himself the luxury of waking up slowly, but relaxation is an indulgence which he can no longer allow himself. Inactivity of any kind leaves him open to attack - vulnerable to the memories that have the power to bring him to his knees with just the merest flash of John's smile. Rodney won't allow himself to think of John in any greater detail - he suspects that he simply wouldn't survive.
As a result, his mind is already buzzing with the findings he'd reviewed the previous night, recalling them time and time again, turning them around and examining them from every possible angle. He knows from past experience to allow his brain the freedom to ponder data in this matter - that in some remote recess, a collection of synapses will idle away on seemingly useless information until some crucial aspect will finally click into place allowing him to see the solution. Of course, the presence of a practically impossible task usually helps, but then again, perhaps finding John is just that.
His quarters are still a mess, just as disorganized as they were last night. Rodney steps over the clutter on his way to the bathroom, going through his morning ablutions on auto-pilot while he tries to find some connection between a Wraith culling that perhaps was no such thing, a neutron star that seems to now be emitting an unusual array of particles, and a missing Lieutenant Colonel. He shakes his head, almost slicing his throat open with is razor in the process, as no connection, obvious or otherwise, appears to be forthcoming. But the fact that he can't see it now, doesn't mean it isn't there.
He dresses slowly, his thoughts turning to more practical considerations. Today he is supposed to get started on the X-304 project, but he already knows that he won't. Instead, he's going take a leaf out of John Sheppard's book and take an almighty gamble - all carefully calculated, of course - and see if they can't just produce another Hail Mary.
So, now for finer detail. As he makes his way to the commissary various options flit through his mind - who he needs to speak to, how to get away in the first place and what they will need to take with them. He spots Ronon and Teyla sitting at their normal table as soon as he passes the threshold and hurries over to the food bar to grab himself some coffee. As he meanders through the tables to where his team mates sit, he casts a cautious eye over to see who is sitting within close proximity, breathing easier when he realizes that the surrounding tables are empty.
Ronon and Teyla both look up as he takes his seat beside them. Ronon gives him a usual terse nod, a greeting which, given his general attitude of late, is positively effusive. Teyla, he notices in dismay, also looks worse for wear, her smile a little too bright. Taking a sip of his coffee, Rodney notices that the knuckles of Ronon's hands are red and swollen, a clear indication of where he had headed after Elizabeth's announcement. Glancing over at Teyla, he can see further evidence of her state of mind, despite her outward appearance of calm it is obvious that she too is only just holding herself together. He flashes them both a quick smile in return, surprising himself with how easy it is to smile now that he can see for certain that he will not be alone in the quite-frankly insane scheme he is currently concocting. Nevertheless, it is important to at least try to be circumspect.
"So," he says, trying his best to sound casual about it. "What do you two... uh... think of the IOA's decisions?"
Ronon snorts in disgust and turns to Rodney with a scowl. "I think they're a load of crap," he replies succinctly, spearing a piece of sausage with particular ferocity.
"I, too, believe that they are being very short-sighted in their decision," Teyla says, taking a careful sip of tea, her fingers gripping the mug tightly.
Rodney nods, relieved with the confirmation that his team mates opinions are so obviously in line with his own.
"He wouldn't give up on any of us so easily," Ronon continues with complete certainty.
"No," Rodney agrees softly, knowing it to be true. He takes another sip of coffee from his mug and then replaces it firmly on the table in front of him, looking directly back into Ronon's challenging gaze. "He wouldn't."
Ronon's eyes narrow slightly, as if weighing Rodney up. After a few beats he nods to himself, seemingly having found the answer to his unasked query somewhere in Rodney's gaze. "So what are we going to do about it?" he asks baldly.
Rodney blinks, surprised not so much by the question - it is what he's been hoping for after all - but rather by the fact that Ronon seems to be completely genuine in his asking it of Rodney. "Well," he says slowly. "My view would be that we don't give up either." He glances over at them a little nervously. "In fact," he continues. "I would go so far as to suggest that we... um... we do the exact opposite."
At his words, Teyla and Ronon look at each other for a moment before turning in tandem back to him with matching expressions of anticipation on their faces. At their obvious approval, Rodney feels something strange start to bloom in his chest - a sort of balm to the sharp pain of loss - and his mind starts racing again; ideas, plans, schemes... hope. He closes his eyes, relishing the feeling.
When his eyes open again, he finds Ronon still looking at him expectantly. "Well, McKay?" he prompts eagerly. "What's the plan?"
Rodney smiles again, unable to help himself - it's going to work, they're really going to do this. "Okay, okay," he says to them both, feeling more alive now than he has done since that last night in John's arms. He pulls his pad out of his jacket pocket and places it on the table beside his coffee mug. "I'm not sure exactly what the data is telling me, but there is definitely something odd going on here," his hand hovers over the pad protectively as he speaks.
"Odd in what way?" Teyla asks.
Rodney shakes his head, trying to work out how best to describe what is, at best, really only a strong hunch. "I'm not quite sure, but something just feels odd about the data - I mean, think about it. We've been searching for what? The best part of three months now? And we've yet to find a single trace of the hiveship which attacked the planet."
"And you think that is suspicious." Teyla says.
"Yes," Rodney insists. "Well, possibly," he amends. "Look, it's enough to arouse my curiosity, alright? You see, the pulsar emits very strong EM bursts. So strong in fact that it should be relatively simple to not only identify which hiveship has been in its proximity but also to track its trajectory away from the planet, even through hyperspace."
"But we haven't been able to find it," Ronon says.
"No," Rodney confirms. "Which is odd, to say the least." He pauses for a moment, wondering whether to give voice to his other vague suspicions, but finally deciding that if he can't talk this over with his team, then they have even less chance for success than he'd previously thought. He takes a deep breath - this is it. "Look, this may sound a bit strange, but did either of you actually ever see a Wraith dart?"
"I..." Teyla starts and then tilts her head to the side in puzzlement, her brow furrowing in her attempt to recall the incident. "No," she says at last. "I heard them, but we were deep inside the Council chambers when the alarm was raised."
"What about you?" Rodney asks Ronon.
Ronon nods his head towards Teyla. "I was there too; by the time we made it outside, the attack was over."
Rodney nods to himself as he assimilates this news. "I didn't see anything either; and John and I were outside. It was just the sound of them and lots of explosions. I wonder..." he trails off, momentarily lost in thought.
"What?" Ronon prompts. "McKay?" He sounds so much like John that Rodney immediately snaps out of his reverie in automatic response.
"Right, right," he says, waving a hand at Ronon and shaking his head to force his wayward thoughts back into some coherent order. "It just makes me wonder whether it was actually an attack at all."
"I don't understand," Teyla says. "Why would anyone want to fake a Wraith culling? Besides, there were explosions, even from the city we could see them in the distance, and the sound of darts is quite distinct."
"That, I don't know," Rodney replies. "I mean, the explosions were concentrated in the area where John and I were - starting near the research facility and then right by us. But, see, that doesn't really make sense either. I mean, why attack a research facility when you've got an entire city full of people nearby?" He shakes his head in frustration. "However, what I do know is that if the attack was faked - or at least was not what it seemed to be - then-"
"Then Sheppard wasn't taken by the Wraith." Ronon finishes for him.
"Exactly." Rodney says, snapping his fingers once and then pointing at Ronon.
"So, you think we have been looking in the wrong place," Teyla says slowly.
"Yes," Rodney agrees. "Or, at least, it's possible that we have. It's a starting point, at any rate."
"And now you want to go back to Catara," Teyla continues, her voice low and Rodney can see the understanding start to light her eyes. "Despite the IOA's ruling."
He looks around once more, reassuring himself that they are in no danger of being overheard. "Yes," he replies. "If it wasn't a culling, then those people... the..."
Teyla is shaking her head. "I am not sure of this, Rodney," she admits. "As much as I would like to find reasons for why John was not culled, I did speak extensively to many of the Catarans immediately following the attack and I did not detect any indication of such a conspiracy."
"Yes, yes, I know," Rodney says. "And it's not the only problem with the idea - like why we haven't picked up any trace of his subcutaneous transmitter either... And the residual traces left by the attack were consistent with Wraith weaponry, not to mention that, as you say, the sound of Wraith darts are fairly unique." He shakes his head again, unable to properly explain just why he feels there's something more to it. He doesn't think that it is just blind faith in John's seemingly miraculous ability to persevere no matter what the odds, but he isn't sure. And then there's also the puzzling data from the pulsar, but he's even less certain of what that may mean than he is about the possibly fictitious Wraith attack. "Despite all of that," he says at last. "There are enough unanswered questions at this point to puzzle me."
Teyla and Ronon exchange a look at his pronouncement and seem to reach some mutually agreed conclusion, as they are sometimes wont to do. "So we go," Ronon says firmly, as if the conclusion were self-evident. "It beats sitting here doing nothing. Besides, what the hell do the IOA know about what life is like out here?"
Rodney nods his agreement and looks over at Teyla, knowing that he needs to hear her confirm her agreement before he can proceed.
Teyla's gaze is steady and serious as she returns Rodney's. "Yes," she says as she nods slowly to him and then looks over at Ronon to indicate her agreement to him as well. "It is what John would do for any of us."
"Yes," Rodney agrees softly, as the memories of all the times John has literally risked all to save him flit through his mind. He closes his eyes against them, unwilling to break down here.
"I only wish there was some way we could involve the others - Elizabeth is just as distressed as we are by what the IOA has decided," Teyla adds.
That gets Rodney's eyes open again. "No, no, no," he says at once, shaking his head frantically. "We can't put her in that position. If we do this, the fewer people we involve the better."
"Of course, you are correct Rodney," Teyla responds.
"Just us," Ronon adds.
"If we can manage it," Rodney can't help adding, his ever-helpful brain always quick to point out just how many ways this could all go horribly wrong.
"We will do this, McKay," Ronon says with a grin. "We'll find him; we're the best."
His conviction buoys Rodney sufficiently for him to flip mental gears from risk assessment into positive planning mode. "Look, I have some ideas about how we can get off Atlantis and make it back to ...."
"Catara," Teyla fills in helpfully.
"Yes, there," Rodney says.
"What do you need, McKay?" Ronon asks.
"I... ah... I think it best if you give me a few hours to get some things together," Rodney says. "I'll need to collect some stuff from the lab and then head down to the central processor to... well, look, never mind - it's complicated," he finishes quickly as Ronon's eyes start to narrow in a calculating manner. That particular expression is one that makes Rodney fear for his PDA - especially after that memorable mission to M397-TQ4." He rises to his feet and pockets his pad. "Three hours, in my quarters?" he asks as he picks up his coffee. "We can talk tactics there without worrying about who might overhear and finalise just when and how we're going to pull this off."
Ronon and Teyla both nod in agreement, the light of anticipation shining clearly on their faces. As Rodney leaves the commissary, he hears Ronon mutter something to Teyla about gathering together some supplies of his own. Rodney smiles at that, allowing the hope blooming in his chest to grow yet further. They are actually going to do this, he thinks to himself, John would be proud.
~*~
Three Months Earlier
John squinted in the bright sunlight that was shining directly into his eyes as soon as he stepped through the gate and quickly pulled out his aviator shades. Blinking to get things back into focus, he quickly surveyed the surroundings, his hands resting lightly on his P-90 just in case of trouble. They'd known from some of Teyla's acquaintances that the main settlement on this planet was about five miles or so due east of the gate and the presence of a decidedly modern-looking, for Pegasus at any rate, paved road seemed to indicate that the route was heavily used. The gate itself was situated, as was common, in a large open meadow with the nearest cover being a cluster of leafy trees about half a klick away. However, despite the unhindered view of the road almost all the way to where it disappeared on the far horizon, there was no sign of any of the planet's inhabitants.
Having confirmed that nothing appeared to be amiss, John moved his attention to the status of his team; Ronon and Teyla were in their usual positions either side of the gate, obviously having completed their own threat assessment of the area, and Rodney was alongside his precious MALP, radiating manic energy whilst doing something that looked incredibly complicated involving his pad, one of the long antennae and what looked like a length of rope - John wasn't really sure that he wanted to know the specific details.
Raising his hand to his ear, John tapped his radio to activate it. The connection was made instantaneously, the soft click sounding in his ear bringing with it a surge of relief - no problem from the pulsar yet then. Almost as soon as he disconnected the link, he heard a few more clicks. Glancing over, John smiled to see that both Ronon and Teyla had both also checked out their comms. John's gaze then flitted over to Rodney a second time and, seeing that he was still deeply engrossed, John decided that it would probably be best for him to let Rodney be for the moment. He approached Ronon instead.
"What do you think?" he asked. "Have you been here before?"
Ronon shook his head. "Don't think so; it doesn't look familiar." He reached up a hand to wipe his brow. "It's hot," he said.
John nodded in agreement; he could already feel the heat of the sun prickling through the cotton of his t-shirt and the sweat starting to form where his tac vest was attached tightly to his body.
"I believe it is just past the height of summer here," Teyla commented as she joined John and Ronon. She had tied her hair back in a high ponytail and was somehow managing to look cool despite the heat. "We should probably head towards the settlement so that we arrive before the temperature gets even higher at midday."
John nodded and then tilted his head towards Rodney. "Sounds like a plan; just let me see if I can tear Rodney away from his... thingamajig and we can be off."
John looked over to where Rodney had now practically disassembled the MALP once more. Like John, he was in a t-shirt and had already discarded his vest, it was now on the ground with his open pack, in deference to the heat. John could see that Rodney hadn't become too engrossed in his work that he'd neglected to slap on some of his special sun block, the fair skin of his forearms shining in the bright light of the sun. Ambling over, John picked up the bottle and started to apply some of his own, frowning in annoyance when the thick cream caught in the hairs of his arms.
Hearing a snort from below, John looked down to see Rodney laughing openly at his attempts to rub in the cream. John tried to scowl at Rodney in a manner befitting his role of team leader and military commander, but with Rodney grinning lopsidedly up him, a blob of cream still smudged on the side of his nose and looking far too adorable than a middle-aged physicist had any right to be, John found that all he could do was grin back.
Rodney started to turn back to his equipment and John found himself compelled to reach out. "Hey," he said softly, his hand on Rodney's shoulder to halt his progress, relishing in the chance to touch Rodney. "Just a sec; you've got some..." he trailed off as he moved his hand up to Rodney's face, rubbing in the last of the cream with a gentle swipe of his fingers. Rodney stilled at John's touch, looking up at him with wide eyes and John couldn't resist running his fingers down the side of Rodney's face as he reluctantly withdrew his hand; feeling a surge of joy at the slight flush that spread across Rodney's cheeks that John knew had nothing to do with the heat of the sun.
The sound of shuffling feet behind him reminded John of where he is. "So, the radios seem to be working fine for the time being," he commented.
"Well, chances are we won't have a problem with them," Rodney replied, turning back to his work. "Millisecond pulsar, remember? Although the pulsation periods are random, we'll still only be affected if the emissions are directed towards the planet."
"Yeah, I was paying attention, you know," John said, even though he was fairly certain Rodney had already tuned him out again. "Look, you about done here, Rodney?" he asked, leaning closer to Rodney to catch his attention. "We need to get going."
Rodney blinked up at John for a moment, but then shook his head as if to clear it. "Oh, yes, ready," he said, finally breaking eye contact with John and studying his equipment instead. "Well, almost. I just need to..." he trailed off so that he could perform some complicated operation on the MALP. Job apparently done, Rodney hummed to himself in satisfaction and then crouched down on the ground to gather up his tools. When he was done, John reached out to offer him a hand and proceeded to heft Rodney to his feet. Once again, John was struck by just how good it felt to have Rodney's skin beneath his own and gave into temptation a second time to prolong the contact between them in some small way, running his fingertips along the Rodney's palm as he released the hand he was holding.
"Yes, well, thank you," Rodney said, looking equal parts pleased and embarrassed by John's attentions. John just grinned at him in reply, enjoying seeing him ruffled.
"Okay, so, on with business," Rodney continued, turning away from John to face his MALP, pad in hand. A couple of keystrokes later and an antenna deployed from the body of the MALP. "There," he said after a few moments of intense consultation with his pad, "everything seems to be in order here. I just need to find a suitable location for the second antenna and then we should be all set for recording data from the pulsar."
"Glad to hear it," John drawled. "Does that mean you're ready to go now?"
"Yes, yes," Rodney said, flapping his hand, complete with scanner, at John. "Come on then," he said at last, hefting his rucksack to his back and starting towards the road with a crooked, but very satisfied, smile on his face. "Are we going to this town or not?"
"Yes, Rodney, we're heading out now," John replied, torn between wanting to thwack Rodney as he puttered past him or kiss him; he managed to restrain himself and do neither. Instead, he motioned for Teyla and Ronon, both of whom were looking far too amused at the whole scenario, to go ahead of them, before settling himself beside Rodney as they started to make their way down the road.
****
"God, not a moment too soon," Rodney moaned in relief a little over an hour later as they crested a hill and the settlement finally came into view below.
Although John didn't voice his agreement, he felt it all the same. The temperature had risen steadily as they'd walked, the heat shimmering visibly in the air above the paved road and making the miles seem far longer than they were. John's shirt was now almost completely soaked with sweat and he twisted his body with discomfort as they paused to look down at the town, trying to get some air between the damp material and his overheated skin.
"Huh," Ronon grunted from beside him. "Looks like they do alright here," he said, looking out at the large area populated area spread out before them. Unlike the small isolated villages they so often encountered, this town was big; John reckoned there could easily be 10,000 people living there.
"It does indeed look promising," Teyla added as she surveyed the scene. "It is unusual to see this size of settlement. It would suggest that their level of technology is more advanced than what we usually encounter."
"Not your average Pegasus village, that's for sure," John agreed. "We'd better be on our guard though, seems like places like this always spell trouble," he cautioned, shuddering internally as he though back to their all too recent experiences with the Genii.
"Well, let's see what they've got then," Rodney said as he consulted his scanner. "Hmm," he hummed thoughtfully, looking up from his readings to survey the town by sight.
"So?" John asked.
"Well, I'm not picking up any indications of Ancient technology," Rodney replied, waving his scanner at John. "But they do have a fairly well-advanced electrical power grid. I'm guessing that's a power station," he said, gesturing towards a large structure on the outskirts of the settlement. "Coal or oil-fired, I'd guess judging from the discharge."
"Anything that could be useful?" John asked hopefully.
"Not really," Rodney said, shaking his head. "I mean, their technology does seem advanced for Pegasus; in fact I can imagine that they could put up some resistance to a Wraith attack, to begin with at any rate. But it's several decades behind where we are on Earth, and centuries behind Atlantis."
"But their fields suggest they would make excellent trading partners," Teyla said. "We passed many fields of labar grain and tava beans on our way here. And there are even more fields beyond the settlement. It nears time for the harvest, hopefully our timing will work to our advantage in any trade negotiations."
"Right then," John said. "So, Teyla, it's your show - the usual drill, guys. Given the chance that our radios will go down, we need to try to stay together. But, if something happens - Ronon and Teyla, you two stick together and Rodney, you're with me. Okay?" Seeing his team nod in agreement, John grinned. "Right, well let's get this show on the road."
As they made their way from the hilltop down into the town itself, John found himself looking around in surprise at the level of technology evident - much like the Genii homeworld, or the prosperous region of that planet, whatever it was called, that thought it would be a good idea to sacrifice its prisoners to the Wraith, the inhabitants of P57-4PQ seemed to enjoy the many benefits that a sufficient level of technology could bring. Unlike the small villages of many Pegasus planets, where the population eked out an existence hand-to-mouth, this town was large and obviously fairly wealthy. The buildings were well-built, permanent structures, fashioned in bricks of a honey-coloured stone with some kind of mortar holding them securely in place. There were well-paved roads too, spanning throughout the town, complete with somewhat angular looking street lights, a sewerage system, and bustling with automotive vehicles.
John still felt hot and grimy, but at least the height of the buildings provided some shade from the burning heat of the sun and he could feel the odd burst of cool air coming from the open doorways of some of the buildings.
"Ah," Rodney groaned, pausing in front of one such doorway and turning himself into the wafts of cold air. "The joys of air-conditioning."
John felt the thrum of desire start to hum low in his stomach as he watched Rodney arch his body and moan in pleasure. He stopped too, so that he could watch Rodney's unconscious display, enjoying the way Rodney's t-shirt pulled taut against his broad shoulders as he stretched and how the plump cheeks of his ass were outlined clearly in the snug fit of his new BDUs. When John felt his own body start to react to the sight, he forced himself to turn away, reminding himself that now it was only whilst he was on duty that he had to observe Rodney from a distance. Now he had hard proof, so to speak, that his interested was returned, he could make sure that he got a private viewing, complete with touching, of Rodney's assets once they returned to Atlantis. As it was, John switched is attention fully back to the mission.
"Quit dawdling, Rodney, and get your ass in gear," he drawled, pointedly ignoring both Ronon's knowing smirk and Teyla's gleeful smile. For his part, Rodney merely huffed a little and rolled his eyes at John as he moved back into step beside him, muttering something under his breath about how the heat obviously made certain flyboys rather tetchy. John shook his head and managed to restrain the impulse to slap Rodney on the ass as he passed; after all, he'd known Rodney would be a handful even before he'd had first hand experience of it.
As the team continued to make their way towards the centre of the town, the streets and sidewalks became more crowded. Small vehicles ran alongside larger ones carrying crops and other goods, presumably towards the town's centre, and the team was soon surrounded by pedestrians who were jostling their way through the streets. John shifted immediately into a higher level of risk assessment, his hands tightening on his P-90 as he moved closer to Rodney. Teyla and Ronon both moved as well, taking up flanking positions ahead and behind them and creating more of a barrier between them and the surrounding crowds. Fortunately, however, it didn't seem as though they were attracting any undue attention. True, a few people were flashing them the odd glance, but no more that John had learned to expect in first contact situations. In fact, in anything, he was grateful that their presence wasn't creating more of a stir as the majority of people they passed seemed largely unfazed by their clothing, weapons or equipment. It would appear that large cities were the same the universe over; full of busy people living busy lives and too caught up in their own business to worry about what anyone else was doing.
Allowing himself to relax a fraction, John glanced over at his team to see that they were all equally captivated by their surroundings. Rodney's blue eyes, in particular, were darting between the readings of his scanner and the buildings and people which surrounded them. He was also mumbling to himself under his breath, something about 'carbon emissions' and 'x-rays from cathode ray tubes'. John suppressed the indulgent smile that wanted to spread across his lips and turned to look at Teyla and Ronon instead, both of whom looked equal parts fascinated and wary.
Teyla was blinking as she looked around, an expression very much like disbelief on her face. "The sight of so many people living so closely together is not something I have encountered before. Indeed, it is only at the annual fairs that any of us dare to gather in such numbers," she said in amazement. "Even with their level of technology, I am amazed that they have survived this long with no obvious defenses against the Wraith."
"Perhaps the planet has some kind of Ancient shielding?" John hazarded, but even as he said it he knew that couldn't be the case. For a start, Rodney had not picked up any sign that this planet had any connection to the Ancients, technologically or otherwise, and his own observations suggested that nothing they'd seen so far in their walk through the town was based in any way on either Ancient architecture or apparatus. Yet, more even than that, was the fact that, within his mind, John couldn't detect the soft hum, that tell-tale murmur he'd grown to understand was his brain registering the presence of Ancient technology which had become activated by his ATA-gene.
"What? No," Rodney replied at once, his immediate denial echoing John's own conclusions. "There's still absolutely no indication of Ancient tech here at all."
"Could they defend themselves alone?" Ronon asked, studying the people alongside them with a calculating gleam in his eye. "Their level of technology does look fairly advanced."
Rodney tilted his head to one side as he considered that. "Perhaps, but only at first I think," he said at last. "I mean, I can well imagine their technology would stretch to weapons such as high-yield missiles and the aircraft, possibly even space-craft, necessary to launch a reasonable counter-attack to a culling. But, given that the Wraith were capable of defeating a civilization as technologically advanced as the Ancients, I can't imagine that their capability for defence, whatever it may be, is the explanation."
"And there is also the question of why the Wraith have left this planet alone for a long enough period of time to enable them to develop this level of technology," Teyla pointed out.
"Yes," Rodney agreed. "Although if I had to make a guess, I'd say it probably has something to do with the presence of the pulsar in this system."
"The random EM emissions?" John asked.
"Exactly," Rodney replied with a grin. "Although we don't know that much about how exactly Wraith technology works, we do know that they are considerably less advanced than the Ancients. It is entirely plausible to surmise that the neutron star's pulses could affect their ships in some way, just as it would interfere with our equipment. Especially as, until recently, the majority of the Wraith have been in hibernation - it probably just hasn't been worth their effort to cull this particular planet."
"Then that might change now," John commented softly, the guilt he felt for the part he'd played in the Wraiths' awakening still weighing heavily on his mind.
"It may," Teyla replied. "So it is a good thing we are here first and can offer these people our assistance in our shared battle with the Wraith."
"And they would have come here eventually, anyway," Ronon added. "It's not like the Wraith were never going to wake up again."
"Exactly," Rodney agreed, moving closer to John and bumping John's shoulder with his own.
John had to laugh at the efforts of his team to cheer him up. "Okay, okay, guys," he said, shaking his head. "You've convinced me. Well, let's see where all these people are going; mingle a bit and see what we can find out."
They continued down the streets for several more blocks, following the flow of people and vehicles. Suddenly, they came to a large open space where the buildings fell away to form a large central square, obviously the destination of the pedestrian and vehicular traffic. The square appeared to serve as the town's marketplace and it was full of vendors selling their wares. The stalls looked sturdy and well-made, suggesting that the market was a permanent feature of the city. There were large tables on which were displayed piles of bread, as well as what looked like cured meats and many varieties of cheese. Others were covered with fresh produce in a myriad of different shapes, colours and sizes, some of which John recognized, the tava beans and dark purple tormack tubers for example, and the majority of which he did not. A whole section in one corner of the market place seemed to be dedicated to the sale of livestock and another to different kinds of farming and other equipment.
Ronon's eyes lit up as he surveyed the bounty and John wasn't sure where he was going to head to first, the food stalls or the weapons stalls. Teyla was looking equally pleased, humming quietly to herself in satisfaction as they slowly moved through the marketplace. "We are certainly in the right place; I am certain we can find the provisions that we need here," she said smiling over at John. "Although, for the quantities we would need to supply both Atlantis and the Athosian settlement," she continued, "it might be better for us to find the convenor of the market and negotiate with him or her directly."
John nodded in agreement and looked around the marketplace to assess how best to locate such a person. In the centre of the square he spotted a large permanent structure that looked like some sort of pavilion; it actually reminded him somewhat of a park band stand. Although it was enclosed, the large door was open and there was a young man in a military-looking uniform standing to attention outside. There was also a smartly dressed woman, wearing something that looked an awful lot like the trouser-suits Nancy used to wear, talking to the large group of people who were crowded around the threshold.
"Well, that looks like a good place to start to find out who's in charge," he commented to Teyla, gesturing towards the structure. Teyla nodded her agreement and they both turned to round up Ronon and Rodney from where they were both salivating over the contents of one of the hot food stalls.
As a team, they approached the small pavilion and mounted the small flight of steps to join the crowd already clustered there. From the snatches of conversation he could overhear, John surmised that they were indeed in the right place as many of those queuing appeared to be merchants all wishing to speak to the 'high councillor'. John stood back and let Teyla take the lead, watching closely as she spoke softly to the woman who was dealing with the queue. With a final nod, Teyla thanked the woman and then turned back to John, Ronon and Rodney.
"That was Kerania, she is an assistant to the Cataran's ministerial department of Agriculture and Trade," Teyla reported with a smile. "She is in charge of the High Commissioner's diary and will arrange for us to speak to him about the possibility of setting up a trade agreement," she said. "Although they do not travel through the stargate themselves, Kerania told me that the Cataran's have several such agreements with other planets, so I do not think we will encounter any difficulties with making arrangements with them."
"Excellent," John said. "That's what I like to hear - a nice easy mission with the promise of a successful outcome."
"Oh, you just had to go and say that, didn't you?" Rodney groaned. "Surely you realise that you've doomed us all - no doubt we'll now be taken hostage and tortured or have something equally horrific happen," he finished with a shudder.
Ronon rolled his eyes and exchanged a look with Teyla, both of them well-used by now to Rodney's melodramatics. John himself had to stifle a grin when Rodney glared at him, feeling another little trill of happiness sparkle through him when he saw the little quirk on one side of Rodney's mouth, the one that made him wanted to lean forward and press his lips against.
"Don't worry, Rodney," John said with a smile. "Remember, I'm with you."
~*~
Present Day
After leaving the commissary, Rodney practically flies down the corridors towards the transporters. He's breathing hard by the time he makes it inside the small cubicles, the rush of adrenaline and almost forgotten sense of true hope making him feel almost giddy. It's a heady feeling, to think that at last, after months of endless searching, unremarkable data collection and depressingly frequent dead ends, things might finally change.
Of course, Rodney knows that there is no guarantee that continuing the search for John himself, even with Ronon and Teyla's support, will yield a more successful outcome than they've achieved so far. Yet Rodney also knows that he has to at least try - that he can't simply give in to the IOA's dictates, accept that John is gone, and move on to the next assignment. Part of him wishes he could storm back through the stargate to Earth and confront the imbeciles at the IOA in person - to scream at them that finding John isn't just another 'mission' that could be called off at the first sign of difficulty. A far larger part of him, however, is relieved to be light years away from Earth and he feels, not for the first time either, so very glad he that he came to Atlantis and became part of John Sheppard's team. Especially now, with Teyla and Ronon at his side and the spectre of John urging him not to give up, he realises just how much Pegasus has given him - not only the chance to actually live the science which has always fascinated him, but also the opportunity life here has given him to explore hereto unknown aspects of himself - most notably his capacity of courage, friendship and love. Heartbreak too, of course, but he's learned that that is something which just comes with the job description and against which he's become fairly adept at fighting - the current situation a case in point.
As he pushes the button for the science labs, he feels his plan starting to really take shape in his mind. Moments later he's entering the main lab and heads immediately over to his desk to collect the things he will need to put his plan into action. He wonders fleetingly whether he should attempt to feign interest in the work of his colleagues, but discards the idea almost at once knowing that deception has never really been his strong suit. Besides which, time is most certainly of the essence if they are to succeed in getting off Atlantis without arousing suspicion.
His entry raises a few heads, but a scowl aimed at the room at large proves sufficient to ensure that his staff quickly get back to work. Only Radek remains looking at him from his place at his desk across from Rodney's. Rodney holds his gaze for a moment before dropping it back down to his desk, his fingers already flying over the keyboard of one of the PDAs on his desk - there is so much to be done before they can make their move. From out of the corner of his eye, Rodney watches Radek get out from his chair and make his way around to Rodney. Rodney sighs to himself internally; he should have anticipated this.
"Good morning, Rodney," Radek remarks mildly as he comes to stand beside Rodney.
"Radek," Rodney says shortly, not turning away from his task to look up at Radek. "I'm busy; go away."
"Ah," Radek replies, as if Rodney had just explained something in great detail. "Excellent; I will wait then. You will need some help, I am sure."
Rodney shakes his head and wonders quite how Radek, an engineer and physicist, managed to get quite so wily. He turns to look up at Radek, but is met with only a mild expression. Nevertheless, it is one that somehow still manages to convey both infinite patience and a will to harass Rodney relentlessly about this should it become necessary.
"Oh, alright, fine," he relents at last, because Radek is right, things will go a lot easier if he has some help. But still, he is loath to involve more people than he needs too, especially as he wouldn't want anyone to get into trouble with the IOA over this... anyone else, that is. "But, on your own head be it," he warns.
"But of course, Rodney," Radek replies pleasantly.
Rodney grunts in reply, and turns back to his PDA; Radek waits patiently until he is finished. Rodney glances at Radek briefly as he finishes his list and then motions the man closer with a wave of his hand. Radek moves to take up a position right by Rodney's left shoulder and together they skim over the list of items Rodney has just typed. Once he's convinced that he hasn't missed anything, Rodney turns to look at Radek, awaiting his reaction. Radek's eyes widen slightly behind the thick lenses of his glasses as looks over the list and he then he starts muttering under his breath in Czech as he continues to read. Rodney fiddles with a pen from his desk a little nervously as he waits for Radek to finish.
"Yes, good," Radek says at last as he straightens back up. "Very good."
"So glad you approve," Rodney can't help replying sarcastically.
Radek ignores his interjection. "I suppose it is best if I do not know the exact details, yes?" he says.
"Probably," Rodney admits, wincing slightly. He swivels in his chair so that he can look up at Radek. "But I'm sure you'll be able to figure them out anyway," he admits, the implications of that still worrying him.
"Me? No, I know nothing, only that you wish me to finish this for the X-304 project," Radek replies with a smile, holding out his hand for the pad and then reaching out to touch Rodney's arm in briefly in a gesture of companionship. "Leave it with me," he says simply.
Rodney hands over the pad at once, grateful beyond measure that he and Radek have such as strong understanding when it comes to the practicalities of their science. "Thank you," he says, holding Radek's gaze with his own and willing him to understand just how important this is to Rodney.
Radek waves away his thanks. "There is no need to thank me, Rodney," he replies. "This is something that needs to be done. I will contact you when all is arranged; it will take me few hours to organize the bulk of it."
"Yes, yes, fine," Rodney says, waving Radek away as his brain hones in on the next part of his plan. He'll need to get access to the central processor and make a few changes there if they are to pull this off undetected.
"There is no one working on the CPU at the moment," Radek says, as if reading Rodney's mind. "Dyson and his team finished re-routing the sensor network last night, so I would not be surprised if there are a few glitches that will result. Perhaps it is best for you to go down and have a look at the set-up yourself before starting on the X-304 engine specifications."
That gets Rodney's attention right away. He looks up at Radek and his eyes narrow slightly. "You are a very sneaky man, Radek Zelenka."
Radek laughs at this. "Well," he says with a little shrug. "You do not live here for so long and not pick up some things from the marines. Now, off you go; I have plenty of work to do here."
****
When Rodney makes his way back to his quarters, far more time has passed than he'd originally estimated when he'd first left the lab. It had been relatively easy to make the adjustments to Atlantis' central processor, but Rodney had checked and double-checked his alterations multiple times before he was completely happy with the adjustments he had made. Once he'd finished at the CPU, he'd made his way out to one of the workshops on the east pier to pick up a few necessities, and then back to the main lab to meet up with Radek. Together he and Radek had gone to the jumper bay to put the final pieces in place. Now, almost six hours later, Rodney is finally back in the corridor leading to his rooms, laden down by a bag containing three laptops, two scanners, a couple of circuit boards, several life-sign detectors, a handful of Ancient control crystals, and a varied assortment of other pieces of equipment he'd picked up during his travels and thought might come in handy.
As he turns the last bend in the final run up to his quarters, he spies Ronon and Teyla making their way towards him, having obviously come from the other transporter. Like himself, they too are laden down with supplies and Rodney feels a little surge of triumph when he recalls that the particular transporter from which they've come is the same one that services the deck containing the armory and the infirmary. He'd managed to meet up with Teyla a few hours earlier to touch base with her and let her know that he'd be a little longer in making his arrangements than he'd originally planned. She'd assured him that she'd let Ronon know and they'd rearrange their plans accordingly. He sees his satisfaction with the way things are going reflected in the eyes of both his team mates as they meet outside the door to his quarters.
Juggling his load, Rodney manages to swipe his hand over the crystal to slide the door open, ushering Ronon and Teyla in ahead of him with a jerk of his head. Once they're all safely ensconced, Rodney drops his bounty on his bed and pulls out his scanner, unable to stop himself from doing what is most likely a completely paranoid sensor sweep of the entire floor.
"So," he says, turning at last to his team mates. "We ready?"
Ronon and Teyla exchange grins. "Of course, Rodney," Teyla replies. "Although, I would like to know what exactly the plan is."
"Right, right, yes," Rodney says, moving about his quarters gathering stuff into untidy piles in an effort to clear enough space for them all to sit down. "The plan."
"We take a jumper, go through the gate, head to Catara and get Sheppard back," Ronon says as he collapses down on Rodney's still cluttered sofa, one hand reaching out to pet his energy pistol as he speaks. "I got us plenty of weapons," he adds with glee, reaching out a foot to prod one of the large duffle bags he'd brought.
"Good," Rodney replies. "Wait - what? No, no, no," he then says, shaking his head firmly. "Well, yes, good about the weapons - we'll need all the supplies we can get as there's no knowing what trouble we're going to run into - but no to the plan. That is so not the plan. We have to be smart about this - no going in half-cocked with guns blazing."
"How do we get off Atlantis?" Teyla asks. "I presume we will need to go through the stargate to get to Catara, but I do not see how that is going to be possible. Especially not with a jumper."
Rodney can feel himself beaming as he turns to address Teyla's concerns. "Yes," he agrees. "And that is exactly what we shall do."
"Excellent!" Ronon exclaims, looking as if he's half a second from jumping to his feet and heading for the jumper bay.
"But we wait for the right moment," Rodney adds quickly, aiming a stern look in Ronon's direction. "Getting off Atlantis undetected is going to be no mean feat. Plus, we still have no clear idea what has happened to John, let alone sufficient evidence to conclude that he is still on Catara."
"But how can we achieve such a thing?" Teyla asks again. "Surely we will be noticed at once if we take a jumper, and certainly once we activate the stargate."
"Ah," Rodney replies. "It's all in the timing. That's what I've been working on all day - we've actually be really lucky with how things have worked out, and also lucky that I'm such a genius, of course," he can't help adding. He sees Ronon and Teyla exchange exasperated but fond looks.
"Get on with it, McKay," Ronon mock growls.
"Yes, well, it's true," Rodney replies with a sniff. "Anyway, with all the new data we've been getting from the regular scans, we've recently had to do some serious work on the city's central processor. And, as it happens, the final stages of the upgrade were completed yesterday, so naturally I had to make the final checks myself..." he lets his voice trail off so he can beam at his rapt audience.
Teyla looks puzzled for a moment before her face clears and understanding dawns. "What did you do, Rodney?" she asks, her amusement clearly audible in her voice.
"Oh, just made it possible for us to get out of here undetected," Rodney replies smugly. "While I was checking over the system configurations, I made a couple of changes to the sensor protocols - nothing major, certainly nothing that will jeopardize security of the city - just a few untraceable tweaks which will enable us to take jumper twelve without anyone even realizing that she's gone."
"Jumper twelve?" Ronon says, a slight frown creasing his forehead. "I thought jumper twelve was the one that didn't fly - the one Sheppard's always complaining about."
Rodney grins at him. "Not anymore," he replies. "In fact, I can personally guarantee that jumper twelve is now equipped with the most advanced engine a jumper has ever carried. And, thanks to my hours spent down in the CPU, no one will be able to tell that she's missing unless they actually go down to the far end of the jumper bay to see for themselves."
"And the stargate?" Ronon asks, looking more and more eager as each stage of Rodney's plan is revealed.
"Ah, now that part's going to be a bit trickier, and it's where the new engines come into play," Rodney says. "Zelenka spent the day finishing the prototype engine we've been building based on what will be the new X-404 engines and together we-"
"Wait - Zelenka knows?" Ronon interrupts sharply.
"He guessed," Rodney replies with a sigh. "It's not unexpected, after all he's not entirely stupid and we have been working together for years now - he knows how I think; I had no choice but to tell him." He waves away Ronon's concerns with a flick of his wrist. "Look - you don't need to worry; Radek's on our side. I'd still be working on the jumper if he hadn't helped me with the engine today."
Ronon gives him a long measured look, before finally nodding. "Okay," he says.
"Okay," Rodney repeats. "Right, so, with the refitted engine, I estimate we can make it to P59-3TQ in just over ten hours."
"And from there, we gate to Catara," Teyla finishes for him, smiling as she does so.
"Exactly," Rodney says, snapping his fingers and pointing at her with a grin. "You see, really the only thing we have to make sure of is that we get off Atlantis undetected and there's simply no way for us to do both that and use the 'gate. Once we're gone, then it no longer matters - after all, everyone's going to know what we're doing once they've noticed us missing. Hell, they'll even know where we've gone once we use the gate network as both the Cataran gate and the one on P59-3TQ have been fitted with the ATA-detection software..."
He trails off as he ponders the various possible reactions when their disappearance is discovered. He doubts that anyone will be very surprised, not once they realize where they've gone and what they're obviously trying to do. He feels a brief flash of empathy for Elizabeth, who will have the unenviable task of explaining their disappearance to the IOA, but, recalling her very obvious impotent fury at the IOA's decisions, Rodney can't help but hope that she will approve of the course of action they've been driven to take. At the very least, he knows that she will understand.
"And by the time we're missed, it will no longer matter what the response is here," he continues softly. "The only thing that will matter is what we'll find there."
"What we'll find is Sheppard," Ronon replies, his voice deep and rumbling. "One way or the other."
"Yes," Teyla concurs immediately, her eyes bright with what Rodney thinks is both hope and unshed tears.
Rodney nods in agreement; hope is all very well and good, but he also knows that it will be what ultimately destroys him - the continual weight of it with never any forthcoming answers. They need to know, as Ronon so baldly put it, one way or the other.
Taking a deep breath, Rodney refocuses his mind on practicalities. "Okay, so we take the jumper, head to P579-3TQ, gate to Catara and go from there." Rodney has a whole list of scans and tests he wants to run once they reach the planet. With any luck, he'll be able to gather more data and so build up a working theory of what happened on Catara that day. If it had been a Wraith attack after all, Rodney is determined to track the hive and if it wasn't... Well, they'd simply have to face that challenge when they came to it.
"So," Ronon says, his eyes alight with eager anticipation. "How soon do we leave?"
~*~
Three Months Earlier
After a brief wait outside on the pavilion's deck, the team was led into the High Councillor's inner sanctum by Kerania herself. She seemed to John to be the epitome of an efficient administrator - polite, softly-spoken and gracefully efficient. She smiled somewhat distantly at Ronon, Rodney and John, but spoke warmly to Teyla as she presented them to Quoron, the Cataran High Councillor and the person in charge of the city's agriculture and trade. The cool interior of the pavilion, with its high vaulted ceiling and air conditioner equivalent, was a welcome relief to the heat outside. John couldn't help smiling as Rodney gave a heartfelt sigh relief as they were shown to seats before the High Councillor's large desk and presented with tall glasses of iced and slightly sparkling water, sans any trace of citrus.
Without a doubt, John thoughtas he watched proceedings unfold, Teyla was one of the Atlantis expedition's greatest assets. Following the standard introductions and very basic background information about Atlantis, she had smoothly taken over the role of spokesperson and was now deep in trade negotiations with the High Councillor. John could only marvel at how she managed to so gracefully direct the flow of the conversation, laying out the various details of their trade deals with other planets and pointing out the advantages such a deal could bring to the Cataran people.
John had known right from the start that Teyla was someone special. From their very first meeting on Athos, when Sumner had so nearly destroyed the fledgling alliance with his clumsy suspicions, John had recognised instinctively that if the expedition could gain her as an ally, then their chances of actually surviving in Pegasus would increase ten-fold. Teyla had an innate grace and charm about her that immediately put people at their ease. Her knowledge of Pegasus and her contacts had played a major role in ensuring the survival of the expedition during that first harsh year when they were cut off from Earth. On top of that, she was a fearsome fighter who never gave in; a survivor down to her very core. John valued her strength, her loyalty and was continually amazed at the depth of her commitment to Atlantis, the Athosians and their joint cause.
John's trust in Teyla was absolute and whenever the team found themselves in first contact scenarios like this one, he was more than happy to sit back and let her handle the delicate process of negotiation. Although talking to people, charming them and gaining their trust, came easily to him - another product of his privileged upbringing - it was something with which he was never entirely comfortable. He'd managed to create a realistic and affable persona for himself which he could adopt when it was called for, but he always found that he had to grit his teeth throughout the entire ordeal. Despite both his father's wishes and the endless luncheons, formal dinners and cocktail parties of his youth, John had never been completely at ease with people. Even during his time in the air force, fighting side by side with his men, he'd managed to keep part of himself ever so slightly remote. Until now, of course, John thought and had to suppress a smile. As he looked around the hall, his gaze running over each of his team mates in turn, John knew that with these people he felt entirely comfortable and, for perhaps the first time in his life, truly able to simply be himself. He let his gaze linger on Rodney, feeling a thrill of happiness blooming in his chest.
"That does indeed sound most agreeable, High Councillor," Teyla was saying smoothly, tilting her head slightly and smiling politely, as John turned his attention back to her and the conversation. "I would enjoy the opportunity to see more of your impressive city. What we have seen of it so far has indeed been most remarkable and on our way here from the ring of the Ancestors, we passed many fields of your fields which appeared to be abundant crops."
"We are indeed fortunate." Quoron replied, leaning forward in his chair and resting his forearms on his desk, one on top of the other. "It has been a fruitful year on Catara. As you can see, the harvest time is upon us and across our nation many markets like this one will be overflowing with our plentiful bounty."
The High Councillor was a tall man, broad shouldered, and his hair was almost completely grey. John estimated that he was most likely somewhere in his late fifties. He was dressed in a slate blue shirt, jacket and trousers that seemed to be made of a fabric akin to linen and wore what appeared to be his badge of office in the form of a dark green sash tied about his waist. Despite his rich clothing, he seemed to be very approachable; interested in where they'd come from, but not overly suspicious or mistrustful. As he'd met them, clasping their forearms in turn in what seemed to be the traditional Cataran greeting, John had noticed that his hands were rough, as though he were accustomed to manual labour. It would not surprise him if Quoron had once been a farmer who'd worked the fields he now spoke about with such pride.
As they had waited outside the pavilion for their allocated appointment time, John and Teyla had made an attempt to speak to the other merchants in the queue in order to gain a crude understanding of the Cataran way of life. Rodney had, as usual, been lost in his scanner, occasionally muttering to himself and surveying the horizon now and then in abstract contemplation. Ronon, likewise, had left the talking to John and Teyla, preferring instead to stand back and glower menacingly at the assorted populace, all of whom gave him a wide berth. Still, their anti-social team mates aside, the picture they'd managed to form of Catara was fascinating.
Once they'd got the background on the marketplace (apparently the rental price for stalls had apparently doubled over the past five years), the most common Cataran crops (everyone was predicting that it would be a bumper year for tava beans) and heard the latest gossip (it would seem that last night Eria Telvana had been spotted having dinner with not only Tarram Gasec, but also the infamous Barvin Conshaz), the subject moved on to that of the Wraith. As they'd predicted earlier, it'd turned out that the Wraith had not culled Catara for several generations. The Catarans did know of the Wraith, of course, and despite the apparent lull in cullings, all the people they'd talked to had said that the Cataran government was taking steps to defend themselves were another attack to occur. Both Rodney and Ronon had perked up his ears at that information and John was keen that they get some more information about the exact details of what the Catarans had in mind as a defence against the Wraith. He was cautious, the lessons learned from their encounter with the Genii and their dangerous obsession with nuclear warheads still very much in the forefront of his mind, but he also recognized that this was something that warranted further investigation.
Right on schedule, Teyla neatly turned the conversation to the topic of John's thoughts. "In addition to trading for a portion of your harvest, we would also be interested in any information you would be willing to share about the Wraith. As we have said, we have had some success in fighting the Wraith and are always looking for allies to aid us in our fight."
"Ah, yes," Quoron said, nodding slowly as his eyes moved slowly over each one of them in turn. John felt the weight Quoron's regard pause on him for a period and then move to linger on Ronon for an even longer period. "I must confess I had wondered about that," he said at last. "Even though we do not tend to travel through the ring of the Ancestors, many from the outside do choose visit Catara. We have heard tell recently of a group who fight the Wraith."
Quron's words were calm and steady, giving no clue as to quite how he viewed the situation. Time to back Teyla up, John thought. Moving with slow deliberation, John sat up straight in his chair, leaning forward and bracing his elbows on the chair's arms - consciously mirroring the High Councillor's stance. "Well, that would be us," he said, tilting his head towards his team. "The Wraith are the enemy of every single human in this galaxy," he kept his face serious for a moment before sitting back in his chair again and grinning dangerously as he finished, "and we don't just sit around waiting for them to come over for dinner."
Quoron looked startled for a moment, but then he burst out into raucous laughter. "Excellent," he exclaimed at last, relaxing back into his chair still chuckling. "I see you are a man after my own heart, Colonel." His eyes slid from John back to Teyla. "Yes," he said. "I think we may indeed be able to help one another."
Smiling serenely at back Quoron, Teyla nodded and then gestured towards John and Rodney as she spoke. "Colonel Sheppard and Doctor McKay are among our foremost experts on defence against the Wraith. Perhaps while I and Specialist Dex take you up on your generous offer to tour the marketplace, they might talk to your experts about your planet's defence capabilities."
"An excellent suggestion, Miss Emmagen," Quoron replied. Reaching out he pressed a button on a small device on his desk and seconds later Karania appeared at the doorway. "Ah, Karania, would you see if Minister Konar is available. I believe he would be interested in meeting out guests."
"Of course, sir," Karania replied promptly as she turned to leave the room.
"Minister Konar is our Defence Secretary," Quoron explained. "He heads up our military forces and also most of the research and development projects."
"Research? What kind of research?" Rodney asked, breaking his silence for the first time, obviously unable to keep quiet when there was the prospect new scientific data on offer.
"Do you know much about Wraith technology, Dr McKay?" Quoron asked, obviously not content with sharing any more information until he was certain of Rodney's qualifications.
Rodney straightened up in his chair, tilting his chin at the High Councillor - something John recognized as classic defensive Rodney posture. In instinctive reaction to both the evidence of Rodney's distress and the possibility of such distress leading to a diplomatic incident, John shifted in his chair, moving so that he was now leaning ever so slightly towards Rodney.
"Of course I do," Rodney sniffed, shooting John a quick look before focusing back in on Quoron. "I'll have you know I have made an extensive study of all existing data on Wraith hiveships, their weaponry and their coding language."
"Then you a certainly a man with whom I would very much like to talk," a voice interjected from the entrance room.
John turned in his seat to see a man being ushered into the room by Karania. Across from him, John could see out of the corner of his eye that both Ronon and Teyla had tensed at the sudden interruption. Rodney, on the other hand, just looked curious. The newcomer was about the same age as Quoron, but unlike the amiable High Councillor, this man had a far more visible edge to him. Although still dressed in a similar style - his 'suit' was dark grey and his sash a deep burgundy - he somehow managed to look less like Quoron, a farmer-turned-politician, and more like a battle-tried soldier. John rose to his feet, turning to face the man head on, his hands relaxed by his sides, but within easy grasp of his weapon.
"Ah, Tolon, excellent," Quoron said, rising immediately to his feet and coming around from his desk to cross the room in a few quick strides. "Good of you to come," he greeted the new arrival effusively, reaching out to clasp his forearms and draw him further into the room.
"How could I not come immediately, Balar, once Karania explained to me the nature of your meeting?" came the reply. "And, from the sounds of it, I was right not to delay."
"Allow me to introduce Minister Tolon Konar, the Cataran Defence Secretary," Quoron said as he led Konar towards them. "Tolon, this is Miss Teyla Emmagen, Colonel Sheppard, Specialist Dex and Doctor McKay."
Konar looked at each of them as they were introduced, his gaze measured and assessing. It was a look John recognized all too well - definitely a soldier then. John took a step forward, positioning himself a little in front of his team in a protective move he suspected Konar would understand. "Good to meet you, Minister," he said.
"You as well, Colonel," Konar replied. "Welcome to Catara. You are discussing trading possibilities with Balar, I believe."
"Among other things," John answered with a polite smile.
"Indeed," Quoron said, gesturing for them all to return to their seats. "It would seem that the Colonel and his team have faced the Wraith on many occasions and lived to tell the tale. They are interested in our current defence research, so I naturally thought of you, Tolon."
Konar nodded at this explanation, turning to look at John closely. "You were the ones defeated the Wraith at Thalony," he said.
Thalony? John wracked his brain searching for the reference. "Ah, yes," he said as the name suddenly clicked into place. "That was us. We were there to help them with their harvest when they were attacked."
"As I'm sure Balar has already told you, we have been fortunate enough to be spared the hunger of the Wraith for almost fifty years. However, we are not complacent and have dedicated the time to research the Wraith and prepare our defenses as best we can." Konar's gaze moved from John over to Rodney assessingly. "And you, Doctor McKay, what are your views?"
Rodney shot John a quick look at Konar's question - not a scared look, but rather as if checking with John whether it was okay for him to respond. John had felt himself tense at the man's interest in Rodney - something experience had taught him was not a good sign. Still, there was nothing to indicate that the Catarans were like the Genii, and there was no such thing as too many allies. John gave a slight nod.
"Well," Rodney began, turning his attention back to Konar. "It would be my view that your planet has remained Wraith-free as long as it has because of the pulsar in your system."
Konar's eyes narrowed. "Pulsar?" he said, as if unfamiliar with the word.
Rodney flapped his hand at him. "You know, the nearby star which emits random bursts of EM radiation. You will have noticed its effects on your technology just, I imagine, as the Wraith would."
Konar nodded. "Very good, Doctor McKay" he said. "We suspect something similar. Indeed, we have some remnants of Wraith technology which exhibit disruptions in performance when the speaking star - the pulsar, as you say - is directed towards us."
Rodney sat up straighter in his chair at that disclosure. "You have some pieces of functioning Wraith technology? What have you been able to learn? Perhaps you might let me look at it?"
John found himself become infected by Rodney's interest. "We're looking for allies as well as simply trading partners," John said. "Perhaps we can help each other."
"Indeed, Colonel, perhaps so," Konar agreed. "In the interests of friendship then, I would be happy to show you and Doctor McKay around part of our Defence research facility."
"Excellent," Quoron said. "In the meantime, Karania and I will show Miss Emmagen and Specialist Dex the market and then we shall all return to the Council Chambers to see if we can make arrangements for our future relationship."
~*~
Present Day
They leave in the middle of the night - during the third watch on which only the skeleton crew is on duty. Rodney luxuriates in the feeling of the adrenaline pumping through his veins, making him feel more alive than he has in months. As they'd planned, Ronon, Teyla and Rodney all make their way separately to the jumper bay over an hour period, keeping in contact through a set of radios Rodney has separated and scrambled from the main sensor and communications grid.
Rodney is the last one to make the trip, moving as fast and as silently as he can through the dimly lit corridors towards the jumper bay. In his head, he can already see clearly what the next few hours will bring. He knows that both he and Radek have done their work well - that the jumper will take them away from Atlantis far and fast and that there will be no record of their departure. He has several new scans pre-programmed into the jumper's systems, they're incredibly sensitive, amazingly complex and are ready to be implemented as soon as they reach Catara. He also has remote access to both the ATA-gene detection system and the MALP monitoring the pulsar. In short, he's ready for pretty much anything. A part of him is still frustrated that they have to fly all the way to P59-3TQ before they can gate to Catara, but he knows they have no choice. Besides, it won't take that long now anyway, not with the jumper's new engines.
Hang on John, he thinks as he makes the last corner in the run up to the jumper bay, we're coming.
"Dr McKay, you're up late, sir."
Shit.
The voice stops him dead and Rodney only just manages to prevent the obscenity from escaping his lips. He is agonizingly close to the jumper bay; this simply cannot be happening, not now, not when he's so close... He bites down hard on his incipient panic as he turns slowly to face his interrogator. Striving for calm, he has both a series of insults and his pre-prepared explanation on his lips ready to be launched should such action be required.
Then again, he thinks as he meets the steady gaze of Major Lorne, perhaps neither will be necessary after all. "Good evening, Major," he says quietly, waiting to see what Lorne's reaction will be.
Lorne's gaze runs over Rodney assessingly, taking in his clothing, toolkit, and rucksack, heavy with supplies. Rodney simply stands there and lets him look. Lorne's gaze meets Rodney's and they stand there in silence for what seems like forever. Lorne breaks first, dropping his head and rubbing a hand through his hair as he releases a deep breath.
"Okay," he says, more to himself than to Rodney. "Okay."
Rodney slowly shifts his weight from one foot to the other, determined to wait Lorne out. He knows there's no point in him saying anything - it's already all been said. Rodney's made his choice - had made it, in fact, in that split second when he'd realized that John was really gone. Radek, Teyla, Ronon had all also made their choices, and now it was Lorne's turn to make his. So Rodney stood there in unfamiliar silence, and waited.
Finally, Lorne lifts his head and looks Rodney straight in the eye with determined deliberation. "Good luck, sir," he says. "You bring him home." He then snaps to attention, clicking his heels together and bringing his hands smartly to his forehead in a crisp salute.
Rodney swallows hard. He'd been prepared for almost anything - he didn't think Lorne would try to stop them, but he couldn't be one-hundred percent sure. If he'd been forced to put money on it, he would have said that Lorne would choose to ignore him, to simply walk on by and so not have anything on which to act. However, this unwavering support is unexpected, and very welcome - a true testament, Rodney realises suddenly, to the regard with which John Sheppard's men hold him.
"Yes, well," he replies, somewhat uncomfortably. "We'll do our best. And, um, you know that this is..." he trails off, twirling a hand in an effort to encompass the clandestine nature of the venture.
"Of course, doc," Lorne replies, a small smile pulling at his lips.
Rodney nods and turns swiftly, intending on making it all the way to the jumper bay this time.
"Oh, one more thing, Doc," Lorne adds.
Rodney pauses once more and looks back over his shoulder. "Yes?"
"We're trying out something new with the shifts tonight - gate crew's gonna be switching over in," he pauses to check his watch, "twenty minutes or so. Just so you know." And, with that, Lorne turns around and starts to make his way purposefully towards the transporters.
Rodney stands frozen in the centre of the corridor for a moment, just watching Lorne's departure. "Huh," he says, giving himself a shake before starting for the bay again.
So, it looks like they're getting to Catara the quick way after all.
****
"Are you certain this is wise, Rodney?" Teyla asks from her place beside him in the co-pilot seat as she watches him enter the address for Catara into the jumper's DHD. "Will the computer not register the gate activity?"
"Yes," Rodney snaps in reply, trying to check his dialing, upload his scans, prep the jumper's flight systems, monitor the new engines and watch the clock all at the same time. "I mean, no... I mean, look... just, give me a second, will you? I'm trying to do about fifteen things at once here, most of which are either extremely complicated, highly dangerous, or just plain illegal." A flashing amber light has him, swearing under his breath and scrambling for his datapad.
"Five minutes," Ronon's voice says from the behind him.
"Yes, fine, good," Rodney replies absently as he quickly reconfigures the jumper's sensor grid. Nodding to himself in satisfaction, he flicks the controls back to the flight prep and turns to address Teyla's concerns. "Look," he says, "it will be fine. Between Lorne and Radek, there won't be a single indication of any of this in the sensor logs."
"Lorne's a good guy," Ronon adds. "Good taste in explosives."
"Yes, good-" Rodney starts to reply. "Wait. What?"
"Explosives," Ronon explains patiently. "Made sure to point out all the good stuff to me this morning."
Rodney shakes his head in amazement. "Why that sneaky little... So he knew all along! You know, if you'd have asked me four months ago, I'd have said he didn't it in him. Always took him for a straight-by-the-book guy."
"Two minutes," Ronon says.
"Right, initiating final flight protocols and cloaking; Teyla, prepare to dial," Rodney informs them.
A light on Teyla's console suddenly starts blinks and she leans forward to investigate. "We're getting a signal of some kind... It says 'Good hunting.'"
"So much for secret then," Rodney replies, snorting at Radek's obsession with the new Battlestar Galactica - as if living in the reality that was Atlantis wasn't enough sci-fi stimulation for him. "Seems like half the city's in on this. Well, come on then," he urges as Teyla begins to slowly enter the dialling sequence. "It's time to go."
~*~
Three Months Ago
John felt the heat hit him like a wall as he soon as they stepped out of the Quoron's pavilion and back into the hot Cataran afternoon. As had been decided, Quoron and Karania were to take Ronon and Teyla on a tour of the market whilst Rodney and John would go with Konar to see the research facility. Rodney was practically buzzing with scientific excitement, too caught up in questioning Konar about the details of their experiments with Wraith technology to even complain about the temperature.
"So you've been able to de-code the Wraith's programming?" John heard him ask.
"Yes," came Konar's reply. "We have a team of programmers who work exclusively..."
John tuned out the remainder of the discussion as he turned to speak to Teyla and Ronon. "Keep in touch," he said to them in an undertone. "Alternating hourly check-ins starting with you two, okay?"
"Yes, John," Teyla replied as Ronon grunted his assent. "Although I do not believe we have anything to worry about," she continued.
"Doesn't look like it so far," John agreed, letting his gaze flick back to Rodney and Konar, still both deep in discussion. "Let's hope it stays that way."
Just then, a large motorized vehicle pulled up in front of the pavilion. A smartly dressed driver stepped out from the front compartment and moved to the rear of the vehicle to pull open a door.
"Colonel, Dr McKay, if you would be so good as to step inside," Konar said, gesturing towards the vehicle's interior, "then we can be on our way to the facility."
"Bit like a limo," Rodney commented to John as he took his seat inside the spacious vehicle. As John settled himself opposite Rodney, he had to admit that he could see what he meant. Despite the back entrance, the inside of the vehicle's size and facing rows of seats running its length, was reminiscent of a limousine.
"It will be about a twenty minute journey to our research centre," Konar said as he sat down next to Rodney and gestured for the driver to go. The vehicle glided smoothly into action, its engine purring in a remarkably similar fashion to that of a car. "As Balar no doubt told you, our economy is mostly based on agriculture and food production, and it is in those industries that most of our population works," Konar explained. "However, the presence of the Wraith has necessitated us to allocate a substantial proportion of our resources to the research and development of weapons with which to fight them."
"You also appear to have an advanced energy production facilities," Rodney commented as they left the main square behind them. John noted that they were heading out to the edges of the city, but moving in the opposite direction of the stargate.
"Yes," Konar agreed. "The southern region of Cata, our most populated continent and where we are at present, has rich supplies of paraf - a hydrocarbon liquid which, once properly refined, produces great quantities of energy when burned."
"Ah, yes," Rodney said. "It sounds like petroleum," he explained to John.
"You are familiar with it?" Konar asked.
"Very," Rodney replied. "Most of our home planet is powered in exactly the same way."
"And here?" Konar asked again. "For your... What did you call it? Your expedition. For this, you use an alternative source?"
Rodney shot John a questioning look to which John responded with a small nod, indicating that Rodney could answer Konar's question. After all, the man was being open enough to take them on a tour of their research facilities. John figured that such openness demanded at least some small show of faith from them in return.
"We use a variety of different power sources for the expedition," Rodney explained, turning back to face Konar as he spoke. "Most of our energy comes for our base from a power generator called a Zero Point Module. It's an incredibly powerful device which is able to extract vacuum energy. However, in addition to that, we also have a number of generators which use a mineral called naquadah. It's what the stargates are made from and one of its unique properties is that it can amplify energy."
As they continued to discuss energy production, John watched Konar, looking closely to see if he would be tempted to use any of this information against them. To John's relief, Konar appeared be no more than genuinely interested in the exchange of knowledge.
"How fascinating," Konar was saying. "Of course, I know very little about such things myself. I will have to introduce you to Fader Trin as he has a particular interest in energy production and will no doubt be able to appreciate your insight far better than I, Dr McKay."
"Trin is one of your scientists?" John asked, all too well aware of what happened when potential allies decided that they 'appreciated' Rodney.
"He is a scientist, yes. A talented one at that, but he is not directly employed by the government," Konar replied. "His family own most of the power plants and the mining facilities on Cata, so, as you can imagine, there is no need for him to work."
"Influential, then," John commented.
"Very, Colonel," Konar replied with a wry smile. "But, his family connections aside, he is a brilliant scientist and a very astute man - I am fortunate to have him consent to work with my research team." Konar sat forward then, looking past John and out the front of the vehicle's windshield. "Ah, we have almost arrived."
John turned his head to look outside, noting that they were just pulling up to the rather austere set of gates, which were guarded by men wearing the same type of uniform as their driver. The gates were swung open as soon as the guards recognized the vehicle's occupants and they were then driving up a narrow road towards a huge concrete building. The shape of the building, with its array of cooling towers, looked familiar.
"It's the power station we saw from across the city," Rodney said as he too looked up at the large construction.
"This is the Cataran Ministry's prime Research and Development site," Konar said. "And, yes, the site is also used by the Trin power corporation." The vehicle came to a stop outside the imposing doors of the building and the driver once again came around to let them out.
"After you, gentlemen," Konar said graciously.
The next hour was spent touring what John suspected was only the public-facing end of the R&D facility. Konar, despite his reserved exterior, had turned out to be a genial host once he'd become convinced that both John and Rodney very obviously knew what they were talking about when it came to fighting the Wraith. John left most of the talking to Rodney, content to merely stand back and observe. After all, it gave him a better opportunity to watch out for Rodney as well as simply to watch him.
Rodney was very much in his professional researcher-mode, questioning Konar closely about everything they were being shown and practically interrogating each scientist to whom they were introduced. In the first part of the tour, Konar showed them through the facility's numerous laboratories, all of which housed countless scientists completely engrossed in their separate projects. Konar explained that each set of labs specialized in a particular project - so there were cross-disciplinary teams working on a wide range of research and defence protocols. From the few things John could pick out and understand, he was certain he spotted weaponry, aircraft, satellites and computer systems all at different stages of design and development.
Rodney seemed to be just as much at home in these labs as he was in his own back on Atlantis. Despite the fact that the Catarans used a totally different type of notation, John had to get a firm grip on Rodney's arm on a number of occasions to prevent him from plucking a pen out of a nearby scientist's hand and correcting their calculations.
"You never let me have any fun," Rodney complained under his breath after one particularly close call, glowering down at where John had a hand wrapped tightly around his elbow.
In response, John cocked an eyebrow at Rodney and then proceeded to turn his grip into a caress, slowly stroking his fingers down the bare inside of Rodney's arm all the way to his wrist and delighting in the blush that slowly started to stain Rodney's cheeks.
"Yes, yes, alright," Rodney said, blinking rapidly as if to clear his mind and shaking off John's hand. "I'll behave... just stop with the..." he trailed off and flapped a hand at John. "You know."
"Good," John replied, leaning into Rodney to whisper his final words directly into Rodney's ear. "We can have plenty of fun and 'you know' when we get back home." He pulled back quickly, watching Rodney shiver in reaction, and proceeded to follow Konar into the next room.
From the labs, they moved outside and across the compound to a large structure that reminded John of an aircraft hanger.
"The practical part, I presume," Rodney commented to Konar as they approached it.
"Exactly," Konar replied. "Of course, our most advanced prototypes are located at the nearby military base for testing, but our research vessels are here."
"Research vessels?" John asked.
Konar looked over at him, an amused look on his face. "Oh yes, Colonel," he replied. "This is where we keep the darts."
Rodney stumbled at Konar's casually spoken words. He would have, in fact, fallen had John not reacted almost instantaneously, spinning around and reaching out his arms to catch hold of Rodney before he fell.
"Darts?! You have actual Wraith darts here?" Rodney babbled, using John's chest for leverage as he pushed himself upright.
"Yes, Dr McKay," Konar said. "We have two darts which crashed near the city during the last culling. Of course, I suspect they are rather out-dated by now, but they nevertheless have taught us much about Wraith technology."
Rodney was still spluttering at John's side, as if the words from his no doubt numerous questions were getting impossibly tangled on his tongue in their eagerness to be voiced.
"You have been able to reverse engineer them?" John took the opportunity to ask, knowing that he was probably looking just as eager as Rodney was by the prospect.
"To a certain extent," Konar replied slowly, as if unwilling to admit to more. "But you should probably talk to one of the scientists on the project for the exact details."
They had, by this point, arrived at the hanger doors. Stepping forward, Konar punched a series of numbers into a keypad to the right-hand side of the entrance way, and the heavy metal slowly swung open with a groan. Peering inside, John noted that the interior of the hanger was large and brightly lit by rows of florescent lights hanging from the high ceiling. It was also a hive of activity and a surprisingly large number of people were milling about, all dressed in overalls and most of them carrying toolkits of some description. However, what really caught John's attention was the obvious focus of their work - the five Wraith darts.
"Oh, wow," Rodney breathed as he slowly stepped into the hanger, moving towards the nearest dart as if mesmerized. John found himself doing the very same thing, captivated by at last being in such close proximity to an object which represented all that had come to be the bane of his existence for the past year and a half. For a moment, all either of them could do was stand there and look at the darts in awe.
"This is amazing," Rodney said at last in a low tone. "I mean, just think about the possibilities. Even if they are no longer exactly the models the Wraith are using today, what we could learn from them; how they're manufactured, the materials, engine schematics, computer coding, weapons... just, well, everything."
John nodded in agreement, feeling his excitement build. They'd been looking for an opportunity to get their hands on some Wraith technology since practically their first encounter. Of course, over the years, they had been able to glean bits of information here and there - from Rodney's team searches of the Ancient database, Ronon and Teyla's first-hand knowledge, and from their own encounters - but there was still so much they didn't know or understand.
"How long have you had them? What have you learned so far? Have you been able to decipher their programming? Replicate any of their systems? Understand the biological base which underpins their technology?" Rodney was bouncing on his toes in his excitement as quick-fired his questions at an amused looking Konar.
Konar held up a placating hand in Rodney's direction. "Like I said, Dr McKay, I am hardly an expert. Let me see if I can find... Ah, Fader, exactly the man I was hoping to see. Colonel Sheppard, Dr McKay, may I introduce Dr Fader Trim, our foremost expert in Wraith technology."
****
Fader Trim, John decided as he made his way back to the group having made his latest scheduled check-in with Ronon and Teyla, was someone on whom it was probably worth keeping an eye. He was a fairly average looking man, in his early forties with a thick shock of black hair which was showing the first signs of starting to grey, who certainly posed no threat with his physical presence. However, there was something in the keen intelligence that shone from his eyes that disconcerted John. Not that intelligence was usually something that disturbed him. In fact, nothing usually could be further from the truth: case in point, one Rodney McKay, arguably the smartest man in two galaxies, to whom John was more than just a little attached. But Trin's intelligence was something different than Rodney's, John thought as he looked from one man to the other. Rodney's genius was sharp and bright - much like the man himself - piercing, arrogant, and almost always right. Rodney sought the truth of things relentlessly and without much thought to the consequences. True, he might talk of Nobels and glory, but when he was stuck in to a problem, he was totally committed to its solution for its own sake. After all, John knew all too well that Rodney was more than likely to remain in a life-threatening situation in an effort to prove that his science was true, even when all other evidence pointed to the contrary.
Trin, on the other hand, seemed to John to be much more mercenary in his intelligence. Konar had left them in Trin's care whilst he attended to some business elsewhere in the facility. As Trin had showed them around the hanger, talking in only the vaguest terms about what the Catarans had learned from studying the darts, John couldn't escape the impression that he was somehow testing them, viewing them as potential competition. John had observed enough of his father's often cut-throat business dealings to recognize the signs and to be wary of them. Unsurprisingly, Rodney was largely oblivious to Trin's subtle probings. Although it was true that he was now far more cautious in his dealings with other scientists since his run-in with Koyla, there were still times when his scientific curiosity, not to mention his professional pride, got the better of him. As John smoothly insinuated himself back into Trin and Rodney's discussion, he knew without doubt that his was certainly one of those times.
"It's a completely different basis for technology entirely," Rodney was saying, hands waving excitedly as he expounded upon his point. "It's fascinating when you think about it, rather like biological evolution - here we have real evidence of the two different methods of attaining technological advancement being pitted against one another in a literal fight for survival. You've got the Wraith, on the one hand, developing a largely biological base, and the Ancients, on the other, going down the hard-core hardware route, albeit with a nod to biology in the genetic component necessary for the activation of their technology."
"Ah, but the Wraith have also developed a complex, as you call it, hardware basis," Trin replied, gesturing towards the darts engine core which looked to John to be a tangled mess of engine parts connected by something that looked disturbingly like veins.
"I have to admit," Trin continued, "that my knowledge of the technology of the Ancestors - the Ancients - is not great, but a comparison of how each type performs in practice would be most illuminating." He regarded Rodney thoughtfully, "You say the Ancients technology has a genetic component, this is something of which I was not aware."
Rodney was nodding. "Yes, not for all of it of course - the stargate for a start requires no more than the knowledge of another gate's address and use of the dialling device, but some of the more complex or experimental pieces do require a particular genetic marker to be present in the user for them to become active."
At this point, John thought it was about time for him to step in - the last thing he needed was for what was looking like a successful mission to go all to hell because, yet again, someone thought it would be a good idea to kidnap his scientist and use him for their own nefarious purposes. "I'm not surprised you don't know much about Ancient tech," he said to Trin, hoping to distract him from Rodney, at whom he'd been looking with ever growing interest. "Apart from the gate, we haven't noticed any indication of their presence here."
Trin turned at John's words, interest still lighting his dark eyes. "This is something you look for, Colonel?" he asked. "Ancient technology."
"To a certain extent," John replied warily, a trickle of unease running down his spine at the wording of Trin's enquiry. "In addition to our own technology, we do use a lot of what was left by the Ancients. We're always interested in learning more."
The interest in Trin's eyes grew deeper for a moment as his gaze darted between John and Rodney, before lessening again. "As are we, Colonel," Trin said mildly. "After all, with knowledge comes the ability to defend ourselves; that is what my life's work has all been about. I do hope that an agreement can be reached between our people because I am sure there is much we can learn from each other."
"Yes," John agreed cautiously, still trying to work out quite what it was about Trin that seemed to rub him the wrong way. Just then Konar re-appeared, crossing the hanger with his long stride.
"Well, gentlemen," Konar said as he joined them. "I hope you have enjoyed your time with Fader. Perhaps we should now return to the city and rendezvous with Balar and your colleagues?"
John was about to reply that the suggestion was a good one when Rodney beat him to it.
"No," he said, his eyes locked on his scanner. "Uh - I mean, could we have a little extra time here?" he clarified, digging around in his rucksack and finally producing his scanner.
"Rodney?" John asked warningly.
"I don't need long," Rodney said, looking over at John with eyes wide in entreaty before focusing his attention back to his scanner. "It's just that we are a good distance from the stargate here and that hill over there," he waved a hand towards the hill at the east of the facility, "looks like a perfect place to site the second electrode."
Oh, right, of course, John thought with a smile. How could he possibly have forgotten Rodney's bastardised MALP?
"Electrode?" Trin queried, his interest obviously piqued.
"Oh, merely a simplistic antennae," Rodney explained. "I wanted to get some readings of the pulsar in your system - the... uh... speaking star, I believe you call it."
"Ah, yes," Trin said, nodding. "It emits intermittent EM radiation that, when directed towards our planet, interferes with our technology."
"Exactly," Rodney replied. "It's an interesting astronomical phenomenon and one our scientists have not had the opportunity to study at such close range." It suddenly seemed to occur to Rodney that perhaps the Catarans might object to his measurements, so he beckoned Trin closer, showing him the MALP's design on his scanner and explaining the data it was designed to collect.
John looked over at Konar. "Would you mind?" he asked in an undertone. "We'll just head up there," he thumbed in the direction of the hill to which Rodney had haphazardly waved. "Rodney can do his thing and we'll be back down here before you know it."
"Of course, Colonel," Konar replied. "I do not mind at all." He cast an amused glance at Rodney and Trin, who were both in animated discussions, before cocking an eyebrow at John. "I understand the... ah... delicacies involved in working with people such as your Dr McKay." He swept his hand out to encompass the totality of the complex and the no-doubt thousands of researchers who worked within it. "It certainly makes a change from my time as a solely military commander."
John grinned back at Konar, his last remaining reservations about the man melting away. "Yeah, well, I hear ya," he replied. "It all sounds very familiar." Turning back towards his Dr McKay, John reached out and got a firm grip on Rodney's arm. Rodney broke off from his discussion with Trim, mid-handwave, and turned to face John.
"Come on, Rodney," John said with a grin. "Let's go plant that electrode of yours so we can get back to the city; Teyla and Ronon are waiting for us."
~*~
Present Day
The reality of what they are doing doesn't really fully hit Rodney until he's carefully piloting the cloaked jumper out of the bay, down to the gateroom and then through the stargate itself. He just has just enough time to glance quickly up to the control room, completely empty as Lorne had promised, as they pass by before the jumper enters the event horizon and they are catapulted light-years away.
Once they've emerged from the Cataran stargate, Rodney heads immediately into orbit, confident that the Ancient technology of the jumper's cloak is sufficiently advanced for them to go completely undetected by any Cataran surveillance. He positions the jumper in Catara's ionosphere in a geosynchronous orbit above the gate, flips on the auto-pilot to hold them there, and, letting out a shaky breath, turns to face Teyla and Ronon.
"So, we're here," he says, somewhat unnecessarily, but his brain hasn't quite caught up to speed just yet. When he'd first come up with the scheme to get them off Atlantis and back to Catara, he hadn't actually anticipated it going quite this smoothly. But, then again, perhaps he's owed a break by this galaxy by now - and he's more than happy to take it now, especially if it means that they will be successful in their quest.
Teyla looks up from where she's been studying the sensor readings, her eyes shining in sheer delight at their successful escape. Ronon too, when Rodney glances back to the jumper's rear seats, looks like he's about to do something rash - like hug Rodney, or perhaps punch him, or at least do something equally unsettling. Rodney decides it's about time he gets his brain back online before he finds out what exactly Ronon has in mind.
"Right, so, let's get to it - prep your scans and initiate," he says decisively, nodding to himself as he turns back to the jumper's controls. He calls up his own science workstation and feels a sense of calm descend as he is greeted by the familiar sight of the scans he custom-wrote for this mission. He starts by first downloading his new scan parameters directly into the DHD of the Cataran stargate, waiting with baited breath as the software integrated. To his delight, the DHD accepts the new protocols easily and he initiates the data upload with a sense of extreme satisfaction. Beside him, Teyla is busy running some sensor sweeps of the planet and behind them, Ronon is engrossed with scanning the solar system for any indication of Wraith activity with the latest, most sensitive and furthest-reaching sweeps Rodney and Radek were able to create. Rodney feels his sense of satisfaction grow - no matter what the IOA might think, they're a damn fine team.
While Rodney is waiting for his new scanning program to finish going through the Cataran gate's memory buffer, he decides, on the off-chance, to go ahead and upload the most recent data from the MALP that is still monitoring the Cataran pulsar. After all, he's still got that odd itch in the back of his brain which says that something is up with the pulsar and he knows from experience that he should trust his instincts.
"Well, I am not detecting any sign that the Cataran have noticed our presence," Teyla reports at last. "Communications from both the city and the research facility are minimal and there is no sign of any of the Cataran aircraft being launched."
"Just as well," Ronon mutters, still buried in his own workstation. "They've no chance against us anyway."
"No," Rodney agrees. Like Ronon, he is also somewhat distracted by the data he's amassing, but is nevertheless comforted by the knowledge that in the jumper, especially with its improved engines, they are at no danger from even the very best of Konar's defences.
"However," Teyla continues, sounding a little less heartened this time. "There is still no sign of John's subcutaneous transponder."
"Damn," Rodney curses, pausing in his review of the DHD data to double-check Teyla's conclusions. "Double damn," he curses again when his assessment of the readings agrees with Teyla's and feels the hopelessness start to well up within him once more. "Okay, okay - it's not the end of the world," he says quickly, as much to reassure himself as to comfort Teyla and Ronon. "All that means is that it's unlikely that John's still on the planet; nothing more, nothing less. And if he's not on the planet - he's been taken somewhere else and, now that we're here, we have everything we need to find out where."
"And everything we need to get him back too," Ronon adds, reaching over to tap Rodney lightly on the shoulder with his fist.
"Yes," Rodney agrees, "to get him back." He pauses to take a deep breath, willing the hope to swell once more as he turns towards Ronon. "So, what have you got?" he asks.
Ronon flashes a quick grin at Rodney before turning back to his workstation. "No sign of any Wraith," he reports, studying his screen intently. His brow is furrowed in concentration, reminding Rodney that performing complex sensor scans is not really his preferred way of spending the time. Still, Rodney knows that they need more information before they do anything. He's all for aiming the guns at John's captors and letting rip, but he'd also like to know for sure that he's targeting the right people. And, at the moment, the questions of where John is and who's responsible for his disappearance are both still up in the air.
"If these scans are doing what they should," Ronon continues, glancing up at Rodney as he speaks, "it doesn't look like there've been Wraith in the area in a long time."
"Of course, they're doing what they should," Rodney replies, striving for patience. "And what, precisely, does 'a long time' mean? Details, please."
Ronon grunts, but turns back to consult his screen. "Years," he says. "I think..."
"Years..." Teyla echoes in surprise. "But, the attack... I don't understand."
Rodney too, is shocked at the pronouncement, that the results of his new scan could possibly lead Ronon to be that decisive. "Really?" he asks, feeling a little light-headed at the implications of that would be. "Are you sure?"
Ronon scowls at him and stabs a finger towards his screen. "Yes."
"Let me see that," Rodney replies, spinning round in the pilot seat so he can peer over Ronon's shoulder at his screen. As was the case with Teyla's reports, he needs to see this for himself. "Hmm," he hums as he consults the read-out, bemused by the seemingly water-tight results which, as Ronon said, indicate that no ship bearing the tell-tale signature of the Wraith has been in the sector in years. He gets to his feet so he can reach past Ronon fully, tapping away at the console one-handed to slightly altering the scan parameters and then setting it to re-run it.
"Well, fuck me," he says when the results come back the same, sitting back in his chair heavily and rubbing a hand across his face as his brain attempts to formulate a reasonable model which could account for all of the observable data.
"What about you, Rodney?" Teyla asks, reaching out to rest a hand comfortingly on Rodney's leg for a moment.
Her gentle touch and softly spoken words help still Rodney's whirring thoughts, allowing him to focus once more and reminding him that there's still more data to be gathered. "Yes, the data from the gate," he says. "Hang on..." He lets his words drift off as he turns back to his workstation to review the data he's managed to retrieve from the Cataran gate and DHD.
"Rodney?" Teyla questions softly as the minutes continue to stretch.
"Okay," Rodney replies, turning so he can look at both Teyla and Ronon as he adds the final pieces to their puzzle. "According to the tracker we've had on the gate, there's been no activity whatsoever of the Cataran stargate since the last time we had a team here."
"Yes," Ronon says, sounding ever so slightly put out by Rodney's report. "What of it? We knew that before we left."
"I know that," Rodney says, his own brain still struggling to assimilate all the information. "But this confirms it. You see, I've refined the scan and it now taps directly into this gate's DHD - so we know we're getting un-tampered and real-time data." He leans forward as he tries to convey to his team exactly what this means. "And, what's more, because I can access the DHD data crystals directly, I can go back even further. Cross-referencing the dialling memory of the Cataran DHD with the Atlantis mission records, it would appear that no one but us has used the gate."
"What?" Ronon asks sharply.
"No one but us has gone through the Cataran stargate," Rodney repeats. "The ATA-gene detection data corroborates this - the only people with the ATA gene to have used this gate are Atlantis personnel on specified missions." He looks from Ronon to Teyla and back again, willing them to understand what he's saying. "There's no way anyone - Wraith, Cataran, Genii, hell, even Ancient - could falsify this data."
"What you're saying," Teyla says slowly. "Is that John did not leave Catara through the stargate."
"No," Rodney replies. "No, he didn't - not in any fashion - not dead, not alive, not conscious, and not unconscious," he pauses for a moment before adding the piece of information -the one that is perhaps the most important. "Not even in the harvest chamber of a dart."
Teyla's breath catches in a gasp at his pronouncement, but Ronon is frowning, his dreds swinging and brushing against Rodney's shoulder as he shakes his head. "I don't get it," he says. "If he's not on the planet and he didn't leave through the gate, where the hell is he?"
"Could we be missing the signal of his transmitter?" Teyla asks. "Or could whoever has him have deactivated it?"
"I don't think so," Rodney replies. "Our subcutaneous transmitters are based on Asgard tech - something that no one in this galaxy has ever encountered. I can't imagine the Catarans would have sufficient knowledge to even detect John's, let alone remove or deactivate it."
"What does this leave us with?" Teyla asks. "You said that the Catarans have some space-worthy ships of their own. Perhaps they took John on one of those?"
"We need to go down there," Ronon growls, scowling down at the planet through the jumper's viewscreen and cracking his knuckles ominously. "They've got to know more than they're saying."
Rodney follows the direction of Ronon's gaze, letting his eyes go vague and unfocussed as he stares at the bright planet below them, illuminated by the visible light of the system's still-living star. "The living star," he murmurs to himself, "partner of the dead neutron star, the pulsar." The itch in his brain intensifies.
"No," he suddenly finds himself saying aloud, shaking his head at Ronon's suggestion. "No, we don't go down to the planet. There's no point; he's not there and we've no idea who to start questioning." Turning back to his workstation, Rodney pulls up the readings his MALP has recorded from the pulsar. "No," he says again. "There's something else here - something we're missing."
~*~
Three Months Ago
"So, what do you make of it all," John asked Rodney as they made their way out of the compound and started to climb up into the surrounding hills. The day had faded into late afternoon and the heat had finally abated as the sun sank lower in the sky. "An alliance with the Catarans, I mean," he clarified, taking a deep breath of the clean air and allowing himself to relax a little now that it was just the two of them.
Rodney paused for a moment, coming to a stop in the middle of the path they were following and tilted his head to the side as he considered the question. "It's potentially promising," he concluded at last, starting to make his way up the hill once more.
"Well, that's very decisive of you," John replied with a laugh as he fell into step beside Rodney.
Rodney shot him a look. "Oh, you know what I mean," he replied. "You saw exactly the same things that I did and I know that you understood far more about it than you'll willingly let on... No, no, don't even try to deny it - I know you, remember?"
"Yeah," John conceded softly, pleased once more by how accepting Rodney was of their newly changed relationship. "You do."
"Well, then," Rodney sniffed, looking half-embarrassed and half-pleased by John's admission. "Then you also know how very valuable sharing their research on the Wraith could be. I'm sure that were my team to only have a few hours with one of those darts, the information we could learn about how the Wraith operate would be... well... just incredible."
John nodded, conceding the point, but still... "I don't trust Trin," he said. "I don't know why, but something about the man just rubs me the wrong way."
"He seemed perfectly pleasant to me," Rodney replied.
"That's not saying much," John said. "You'd find anyone who was willing to let you examine five Wraith darts perfectly pleasant."
Rodney laughed. "True enough," he admitted. "But even you, Colonel Suspicious, have got to admit that the Catarans have a lot things going from them."
"Yes, I do," John replied. "Teyla seemed pleased with the trade agreement Quoron has proposed," he said, grateful that this was the case. Despite their now regular contact with Earth, he felt far more comfortable with their position in Pegasus knowing they could be self-sufficient were the need to arise again. "I guess if we can also work something out in terms of a sharing of scientific expertise then we can count this mission a win."
Giving in to the temptation that had been with him since he and Rodney had left his quarters early that morning, John reached out and put his hand gently on Rodney's forearm. "So there was something for you on this one after all," he added, letting his thumb move back and forth over Rodney's bare skin, luxuriating in the fact that he could now reach out and touch Rodney like this without fear.
"Idiot," Rodney admonished him, but his tone was affectionate and his face slightly flushed as he turned his head to watch as John caressed him. "Of course there's something for me - there's always something for me on our missions, no matter how mundane they might be." His eyes were serious as he lifted his head to meet John's gaze.
Entirely unable to resist, John leaned forward and brushed his lips softly across Rodney's mouth, catching Rodney's slight gasp before reluctantly pulling back. Rodney's eyes were wide and ever so slightly glazed and he swayed when John released his grip on Rodney's arm.
"Yeah," Rodney said, blinking rapidly as if trying to bring his brain back online. "I guess that I... um... I should get this finished so we can get home and..."
"Continue this," John finished for him, feeling the anticipation start to curl pleasantly in his belly at the thought. "Yeah, I think you should."
Nodding to himself, Rodney turned to survey their surroundings before shouldering out of this pack and retrieving his folded up antennae. John allowed himself a few moments in which to contemplate the tempting view of Rodney's ass as he bent over his pack, before switching his mind forcibly back to the mission.
The sudden whine from overhead caught John by surprise, but his reactions didn't fail him. His body, well-honed after almost two years of living in Pegasus, reacted perfectly - his eyes scanning the horizon for the source of the threat and possible places of cover, one hand moving to bring his P-90 up and into position, and his other reaching for his radio to contact his team. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Rodney drop down into a crouch beside his newly raised antennae.
Despite the fact that John couldn't spot any darts, the sound of explosions echoed loudly from somewhere beyond the research facility. "Ronon, Teyla, come in!" he shouted into his radio, hopeful that they had a better view of the situation from the city. However, there was no reply forthcoming. He tried his radio again, flipping the on switch a few times in an effort to establish a connection. The radio, however, was dead.
"Damn it!" he cursed under his breath, pulling the headset from his ear and scowling down at it in disgust. He raised his head and looked up at the sky where, somewhere far beyond the planetary atmosphere, he suspected the pulsar's EM radiation was directed straight at them. "Figures - how we always manage to time these missions just right I will never know."
Spotting a small cluster of trees about 50 meters ahead of them up the hill, John debated the various merits of either running for cover or trying to make it back down the research facility. More detonations could now be heard coming from that general direction and part of John's brain wondered why the facility was being targeted rather than the far more populated city.
"Rodney!" he shouted aloud, turning in a circle one last time to see if he could see anything more. "You getting anything through the comms?" He heard Rodney try to contact Teyla and Ronon, but Rodney seemed to have no more success than John had.
"Right, we need to get to cover," John decided as another explosion sounded, closely followed by the nauseating sound of a Wraith dart. As he turned to collect Rodney and head up to the cover of the trees, another explosion hit, this one close enough to make the ground beneath them shake violently. John managed to keep his footing, but when he looked up there was no sign of Rodney.
"Rodney!" John yelled, looking around frantically and mentally cursing his inactive radio. There was no sign of him anywhere. "Rodney!"
Another explosion, this one mere meters away from his position. The whine of darts was also louder now, but he still couldn't see any. Shouting in frustration, John let a volley of bullets fly high into the air in the general direction of where the dart must have been to make the hit.
"Rodney!" he shouted again in desperation. He turned and ran as fast as he could in the direction of where he'd last seen Rodney.
John never knew what hit him; all of a sudden he saw a bright flash and felt a wave of pain pass through his body and then everything faded away into blackness.
****
John regained consciousness in an explosion of pain which threatened to crack his skull apart. After his first brief attempt at opening his eyes was met by nothing more than an exponential increase in the number of white hot needles which felt like they were trying to gouge their way into his brain, he immediately let them fall shut again. Taking a few deep breaths in an effort to calm himself, John managed to overcome his instinctive panic and tried once again. The pain was slightly more bearable this time round, and John blinked cautiously into the blackness, trying to clear his vision. Nothing. Even though he thought that his eyes were open, at least partially, he couldn't make out a single detail of his surroundings. Feeling slightly sick, he realised that he was either in complete and total darkness or he had been blinded. Swallowing the renewed wave of fear prompted by the latter possibility, John attempted to forget his sight for the time being and concentrate on learning what he could from his other senses.
Despite listening carefully, John couldn't hear the sound of anyone near him. Still, that didn't mean that he was alone, only that he was unable to hear his captors above the sound of his pulse echoing loudly and painfully fast in his ears. With the possibility of his being watched in mind, he moved slowly to test out the rest of his physical condition. He was lying on a padded surface, a mat or pallet he guessed for it felt too hard to be a mattress. He arms were stretched out by his sides and when he tried to move them, he found that he was manacled in place by the wrists. Great, he thought to himself, so it seemed like it was his turn to be kidnapped this time around - he could have sworn it was Rodney's go.
God, Rodney. And Ronon and Telya. Where were they? Had they managed to escape or were they in a similar situation to him?
Grateful for both his training and the years he'd already spent learning about the typical 'hospitality' of Pegasus, John managed to retain his calm and continued to assess his situation. After all, if he couldn't help himself, he certainly wasn't going to be in any fit state to help his team. Mentally working his way down his body, he discovered that in addition to the restraints on his arms, there was a tight band secured across his chest and his legs were also manacled to the surface on which he was lying. Apart from the ache in his head, his body felt like it had been through the wars as well, the muscles of his thighs and calves aching when he flexed them gently, suggesting that whatever had happened to him, he'd tried to outrun it. His arms also felt slightly fatigued, his right shoulder slightly more sore than his left, evidence that he'd fired his P-90 recently. Repeatedly by the feel of it.
A memory of what had happened would really be good right about now, John thought to himself. He recalled that his team had been on a trade mission, that he'd been with Rodney outside... somewhere, and then the distant sounds of weapons fire. If his headache had not been enough to confirm it, the obvious gaps in his memory obviously were, there had been an attack of some kind and he'd sustained a head injury at, the very least. He had a vague memory of the high-pitched whine of darts - a culling perhaps? Yet it didn't feel like he was in a hive.
He tried to turn his head, moving gingerly, but soon discovered that it too was being held in place somehow. Although he couldn't feel a strap or brace holding his head, he was nevertheless unable to turn in any direction. So, it would seem that things were entirely Not Good. He could hear and see nothing, his memories of the events leading up to this were decidedly patchy, and he was totally incapacitated. So far the only things that seemed even remotely positive was the fact that there was no sign that any of the other members of his team had been captured along with him and the fact that it didn't feel like he was in a Wraith cocoon.
He tried to figure out what his next move should be, but his thoughts were turning sluggish now, his body no match for the cold which was seeping insidiously into every part of him. John tried desperately to hold onto consciousness, not wanting to succumb to a sleep from which he might never awaken. He forced himself to keep thinking, trying to keep active even though his body no longer responded to the impulses of his mind. He repeated his name, rank and serial number over and over again in his head and then started chanting the names of all the different crafts he had flown through the years to himself - anything that could help him hold on to reality. Too soon even that became too much as his synapses became even more sluggish. Atlantis, he thought desperately, that is what he needed to remember; Atlantis, his home, and Rodney, Ronon, Teyla, his family. However, he knew he was fighting a losing battle as his brain slowed even more, the last few vestiges of coherence slipping away from him. Rodney, he thought as his body finally succumbed; he had to have faith - it would be alright, Rodney would save him.
Darkness, silence, coldness, nothing.
~*~
Present Day
Rodney can feel the weight of Teyla and Ronon's gaze on him as he skims through the readings of the EM and particle emissions the MALP has collected from the pulsar. He knows they're confused - hell, he's confused - but he also knows that there is something more to this data than it first appears. The odd mix of the pulsar's particle flux is still in evidence and Rodney is now convinced that it must mean something.
"But what?" he asks aloud in exasperation. "What is going on with that damn star?"
"Star?" Teyla asks. "The pulsar, you mean?"
"Yes," Rodney replies. "These readings, they're... odd. The pulsar seems to be producing a very strange particle flux... It doesn't make any sense. I can't explain it."
"You think it's connected to Sheppard's disappearance?" Ronon asks.
"It does seem to be an odd coincidence," Teyla adds. "For John to disappear and for the pulsar to change at the same time. Perhaps they are related?"
"Well," Ronon replies. "McKay seems to think they're related, so I guess it's worth a look."
Rodney continues to frown down at the data readings as his team mates discuss the situation. The part of him which is still attending to their conversation can't help but feel gratified at the obvious faith they have in his abilities and his instincts. Now he just has to prove himself worthy of them.
"Okay, okay," he says, as much to himself as to Ronon and Teyla. "So what could be going on here? Why would the pulsar suddenly start emitting such a strange spectrum of particles?"
"Particles?" Teyla questions. "I thought it was radio waves that this pulsar emitted."
"Oh, yes, it does that too," he replies, trying to think of a way to explain. "But all stars also radiate particles - electrons, photons and the like, including radio waves." He twirls a hand in the air to encompass the plethora of other sub-atomic particles. "But what's odd here is the particular spectrum of energies I'm detecting..." He shakes his head and scowls at the readings. "It's almost as if..." his voice trails off as he dredges his memory for the relevant bits of elementary particle physics that will hopefully enable him to work out just what the hell is going on.
Leaning back in his chair, Rodney pats his hands up and down his chest in search of a pen. Finding one stuck down in the inside pocket of his jacket, fortuitously alongside a small notepad, he draws both out and starts scribbling down the list of particles in the flux, muttering their names aloud as he does so. "Muons, pions, kaons, electrons, photons..." List completed, he stares down at the paper for a few seconds before lifting his gaze to stare out of the jumper's viewscreen, not at the planet this time, but instead out into the blackness of the seemingly empty space.
"McKay?" This time it's Ronon's low tones which bring him back to himself.
"There's something out there," he says, staring out at the vacuum with dawning understanding. "There's got to be - it's the only explanation."
"Like a ship?" Ronon asks, his excitement at the prospect evident in his voice. "You think they've got Sheppard on a ship?"
"Not a ship," Rodney says, thoughts flying. "More like a... well, some sort of particle accelerator." He shakes his head again; just as certain that the idea is quite clearly preposterous as he is that it really is the only logical explanation. "Trouble is, I'm sure Occam's razor isn't supposed to point to something quite this bizarre."
"Rodney?"
Turning to face Teyla, Rodney waves his notepad at her. "I think there's something out there that's doing this."
"Doing what?" Ronon asks.
"This!" Rodney says, shaking his pad at Ronon this time. "Causing the pulsar to behave like this. I know it sounds crazy, but really the only thing I can think of which would account for what I'm detecting would be if the pulsar was all of a sudden creating strange quarks."
"Strange quarks?" Teyla asks. "They are particles themselves, are they not?"
"Yes," Rodney replies, glancing at her in surprise that she would be aware of such a fact, but quickly suppressing it for discussion at a later time. "But they're not something you'd expect to detect because they decay far too quickly. However, what you would expect to see if strange quarks were decaying is precisely what this pulsar is emitting."
"And the detection of these strange things is important?" Ronon queries, rising from his seat to lean over the back of Teyla's chair, presumably so he can get a better view of proceedings.
"They're strange quarks," Rodney corrects automatically. "And, yes, detecting them - or rather the particles into which they ultimately decay - is important... at least I think so. The fact that this pulsar seems to be producing them suggests that something is affecting the very composition of the star."
Both Ronon and Teyla are looking at him now as if he's gone completely mad. "Look," Rodney tries again, with more urgency this time. "This isn't a natural phenomenon - someone is doing this, causing this change."
"The Catarans?" Teyla suggests.
"I don't know," Rodney replies. "I'd find it hard to believe that it's their invention - I mean the level of technology we're talking about here is just... well, immense. It'd probably be beyond our present capacity and well beyond that of the Catarans, I would have thought. To be honest, if I had to make a guess, I'd say the only people capable of building something capable of catalysing such a change would be the Ancients."
"But there was no evidence of any Ancient presence on Catara," Teyla says.
"Not on Catara, no," Rodney agrees. "But, like I said, the only thing I can think of capable of altering the pulsar in this way would be some sort of particle accelerator. An Ancient particle accelerator which would have to be in orbit around the pulsar itself."
"They have ships, though, don't they," Ronon says flatly. "Cataran spaceships, Ancient technology, and Sheppard's gene."
"Exactly," Rodney says, impressed with Ronon's insight as he's only just coming to terms with the implications of the facts himself. He hears Teyla give a gasp of understanding as he turns back to his workstation and starts to run yet another sensor sweep, this time of the space around the pulsar rather than the planet. "His damn gene."
~*~
Sometime Earlier
Cold, confusion, pain. He tried to move, but was somehow locked in place. Despite this, his body convulses every now and then completely beyond his control, his limbs jerking and twitching in his bonds as if electrical impulses were being funnelled directly into his muscle fibres. His head throbbed with painful intensity with each beat of his heart and his skin felt raw and hypersensitive, but at least his heart was still beating and his body, although of no use to him at the moment, was apparently still capable of sensation.
Everything was dark; he wasn't even sure if his eyes were open or closed. His mind was no better - thoughts confused, memories blank, consciousness slipping.
Darkness, silence, coldness, nothing.
****
Awareness crept upon him gradually again, but little seemed to have changed. He was still unable to move, uncontrollable spasms still wracked his body every few minutes, and he was still confused and had no clear idea of where or even who he was. It felt like he was at the bottom of a deep sea trench, the cold water freezing his blood, the great pressure of many atmospheres leaving him immobile, the lack of oxygen dulling his mind and his senses. It was dark and cold and there was pain. That was the sum of his existence.
Suddenly something new happened; there came the sound of raised voices, the words unintelligible, but the tone nevertheless recognisable - angry, impatient, dangerous. The sounds echoed down towards him as if from a great distance, as if something was happening on the sunlit surface of the water and he could only sense the odd ripple of disturbance from his eerie half-life. Nevertheless, the new sensory inputs - almost too loud after what seemed like an eternity of nothingness - sparked a flash of something... a single word, a memory perhaps, or maybe even a prayer... Atlantis.
But consciousness was fleeting. All too soon the voices faded away and he was left lying in dark, cold silence once more. Thought faded.
Darkness, silence, coldness, nothing.
~*~
Present Day
"Come on, come on, come on," Rodney chants to himself as he runs yet another sensor sweep, this time concentrating the scan on the upper right quadrant of the pulsar's corona. "You're out there somewhere - I just know it!"
"Once you find this particle thing and we get Sheppard out, we can destroy it, right?" Ronon asks, sounding hopeful.
Rodney can sympathise with that hope; after almost five hours of constant searching, he's about ready from some action too. Although, knowing Pegasus, he's probably going to live to regret that sentiment when everything starts snowballing out of control. Still, it does have a nice ring to it - find the accelerator, save John and then blow the damn thing to kingdom come.
"Yes," he replies with relish. "Once I've found it and we've done our super team leader saving stuff, you can blow it to smithereens."
"Good," Ronon says. Rodney can hear his grin and he feels an answering emotion resonate deeply inside himself.
It is somewhat out of character for Rodney to be quite so blood-thirsty - after all, a particle accelerator of the magnitude he's envisaging would certainly be worthy of further study. However, this is by no means a usual situation, not that such things often occur in Pegasus, but still, this is even more unusual than... well... usual. Not only does Rodney suspect that the as yet un-found particle accelerator is where some soon-to-be dead bastards have hidden John away, but the itch in the very back of his brain, the one that started right back when he'd first seen the odd particle flux, is now making its way steadily further forward into his consciousness. What's more, it's bringing with it the dawning suspicion that things may well be far worse than the loss of a single man, even bearing in mind that the single man is John Sheppard. Because, over the course of the last few hours, the particle flux has continued to rise and now Rodney is even starting to detect the strange quarks themselves in the pulsar's emissions. Basic particle physics would dictate that strange quarks be undetectable in nature because of their incredibly fast decay rate - only measurable in a carefully controlled laboratory setting. But here they are - apparently right outside their jumper and appearing in ever increasing numbers. It's worrying to say the least.
"Oh!" The softly spoke exclamation from beside him captures Rodney's attention at once; Teyla has been mostly silent during their painstaking search of the space around the star.
"Yes? What?" he demands of her, hope and desperation colouring his tone.
"I think..." Teyla leans even closer towards her console, a frown furrowing her brow. "Yes," she says a moment later, straightening back up and turning to smile brightly at both Rodney and Ronon. "I have something."
"Finally," Ronon says at the same time that Rodney practically shouts, "Let me see."
Teyla moves quickly out of the way, gracefully easing out of the co-pilot seat to allow Rodney to plunk down into it. His frown returns as he reviews her latest scans, but, yes, there it is, just on the edges of her last sensor sweep - the tell-tale sign of a photon rebound.
"Oh, very nicely done," he can't help but say as he refines the sensor sweep one final time and watches as it slowly reveals the location of what is undoubtedly an Ancient orbital facility. The whole structure is hidden by a beautifully executed shield-cum-cloaking device; it's similar in many ways to the jumper's own cloaks and shields, but of much of a much more intricate design. Rodney is certain that had they not had reason to believe that such a thing existed, they would never have discovered it. It makes him wonder idly how whoever is running it now - and his money is on the Catarans, Trin being the prime suspect - managed to discover it.
"It is there, then?" Teyla asks, sounding vindicated.
"Yes, yes; it's there alright," Rodney. "Just give me a few seconds....and, voila!" A few minor changes to the viewscreen protocols has the desired effect and the accelerator shimmers into view before them.
"It is like the Aurora, is it not," Teyla says, leaning forward with a hand braced on the back of Rodney's chair to study the accelerator more closely. "Lying undiscovered for centuries until someone stumbled upon it."
"Yes, only this time it was the Catarans and not the Wraith," Rodney agrees.
"So, is Sheppard on board?" Ronon asks, obviously keen to move on to the second part of the 'plan' now that they've located the accelerator.
"I don't know," Rodney replies as he studies hones the sensor sweeps directly on to the accelerator. "I'm trying to get a reading of the inside, but the shields so far seem impenetrable."
"What is it for?" Teyla asks. "Can we board it somehow and search for John from inside?"
"Well, it's a particle accelerator," Rodney replies, gesturing towards the viewscreen. "Ancient, from the looks of it, and also presumably what has been causing the changes we've been observing in the pulsar."
Realising that he's still sitting in Teyla's chair, Rodney gets to his feet and shuffles back to the pilot's seat, motioning for Teyla to sit down beside him again. With the flight controls back under his hands, he cautiously steers the still-cloaked jumper closer to the accelerator itself, making sure to keep his hand close to the weapons console just in case. He doesn't think whoever's onboard will be able to detect them - even Atlantis can't detect her own cloaked jumpers - but there's no need to tempt fate.
As the jumper moves around the accelerator, Rodney takes stock. That it's of Ancient design is immediately apparent by the planes and angles of its architecture, even though it is of a far more practical design than the towers and turrets of Atlantis. A long central core made up the bulk of the accelerator, one end tapering off into the targeting beam which was directed towards the pulsar. On the opposite end, there were several loops which Rodney presumed were where the particles themselves were first created and then brought up to speed before being directed down the central piece and hurled towards the star.
"You see," Rodney begins, starting to answer Teyla's question. "A particle accelerator does exactly what its name suggests - it collides elementary particles. Now, different accelerators are designed to collide different types of particles, and the whole point of the exercise is to generate, at least for a short amount of time, other particles that would otherwise have long since decayed."
"Like the strange one," Ronon says.
"Yes, like the strange quark," Rodney agrees. "Although what you'd typically see is the new, unstable particles quickly decaying back into more stable particles." Glancing over at Teyla and then up at Ronon, Rodney decides to take another stab at his explanation. "It's like this," he says, holding up his hands up and forming them into fists. "Imagine you're colliding two particles, an electron," he waves his right fist, "and a positron," he waves his left and then hits them together hard, meshing his hands together as they meet. "With the energy from the collision, they can be converted temporarily into new particles, what's called a virtual photon. However, this new particle," he waves his now joined arms, "is not stable - it decays very quickly." He starts to separate his hands, this time not returning them to fists. "However, and this is the really clever part, there's no reason for it to decay into the same two particles - an electron and a positron - again. Provided that the energy is sufficiently high, you can create anything you're energetically allowed to -- say, a strange quark and an anti-strange quark." He waves each of his newly-separated hands in turn.
"And that is what this accelerator is doing?" Teyla ask, nodding first towards the accelerator in the viewscreen and then to Rodney's hands, still upheld in demonstration. "Creating new particles?"
"What's the point?" Ronon adds his query into the mix.
"Yes, that is what it's doing and the point," he says, turning to glare up at Ronon for a moment. "Is to gain a greater understanding of the physical universe. Although quite what the Catarans - if it is indeed them - think they're doing with it is anyone's guess."
"It's them alright," Ronon states flatly, looking towards the viewscreen. "Look."
Following the direction of Ronon's gaze, Rodney turns back to spy the small spacecraft docked at one of the smaller rings adjacent to the main core of the accelerator. It looks somewhat like a Wraith dart, but is fashioned, not out of the eerie flesh-like material of traditional Wraith technology, but from what seems to be a more traditional metal alloy. It does, in fact, looks remarkably like one of the prototypes John and Rodney had viewed during Konar's tour of the defence research facility.
"Perhaps they believe it is some sort of weapon?" Teyla suggests. "I must confess that I find it hard to believe that the Catarans were being completely disingenuous with us during our initial searches for John. I spent almost two weeks with Quoron, Konar and Kerania and did not see any indication that they were hiding anything from us - certainly not something as great as John's abduction."
"No, not them," Rodney agrees. His eyes narrowing as he studies the craft; it is similar to the prototypes they'd viewed, but not identical. "I'm not sure any of them would have the understanding to actually operate something like this accelerator. But there was another scientist - Trin. He would have the knowledge, plus the means and connections, to pull off something like a fake Wraith attack..." Rodney trails off as he thinks back to the afternoon he'd spend in Trin's company, trying to recall his impressions of the man. To be honest, Rodney hadn't really noticed all that much about the man himself, too taken with questioning him on his research and eager for the chance to spend some quality time with the Wraith darts. He has vague memories of talking about power generation with him and how the Ancients... "Oh fuck!"
"Rodney?" Teyla asks, her eyes wide with concern.
"It's Trin, it's got to be," he exclaims angrily. "And, damn it all to hell, I... I may have mentioned to him something about how the Ancients generate power - by extracting vacuum energy and..." he trails off again and stares down at the jumper floor, feeling a flush of shame and guilt wash over him as he realises that his words are what most likely led to John's loss.
"And?" Ronon prompts.
Rodney winces, his gaze darting up to meet Ronon's before returning to the floor. "And I may have also alluded to the genetic element involved in the activation of Ancient tech. This... god dammit... all of this is my fault."
"McKay," Ronon says, his voice brooking no argument. "This is not your fault, this is their fault," he stabs a finger in the direction of the Cataran ship in the centre of the viewscreen. "And we're going to make them pay."
"Yes," Teyla agrees softly, reaching out to touch Rodney's arm. Her grip solid and strong and it helps to anchor him so he can pull himself out of the well of guilt in which he's caught. "It would appear that John's disappearance is the fault of the Catarans," she continues just as firmly as Ronon. "But when we find him and bring him home, it will be because of you."
Rodney raises his eyes to look at each of his team mates in turn. "No," he counters. "It will because of all of us."
"Right then," Ronon says, his grin all eager anticipation. "Let's go get him."
~*~
Sometime Earlier
Raised voices roused him to consciousness once more. Noise echoed all around - angry shouts and loud bangs. Suddenly a pause. Silence descended again, but it was quickly to be followed by a bright flash of light and a rush of power which floods mercilessly though him. He arched, his muscles contracting even more violently than before, the pain so intense it felt like the very fibres of his body were being wrenched apart. There was a command in the power too - an order instructing him to do something. Soon there was nothing to him but the painful sensation of an excess of energy and the pounding imperative to 'Activate'.
He hesitated for a moment, unsure and confused. Where was he? Who was he? His mind was blank, but there was an instinctive reaction coming from somewhere deep down inside telling him that this wasn't right.
'Activate' the order screamed, the power pulsing through him increasing exponentially until he was screaming in agony.
'Activate' the order came again. Memory and reason had both deserted him long ago and the lone instinct to resist was not strong enough in the face of the ceaseless pain. He gives in.
"Activate."
~*~
Present Day
Gunfire echoes through the corridors and Rodney is surprised to find that he's almost grateful for it. At least this - running through the cool grey corridors of an Ancient base at risk to both life and limb in search of an impossible prize - is something with which he's familiar.
"Faster, Rodney," Teyla urges from behind him, the sound of her light footfalls spurring him on as they sprint down the seemingly endless hallway.
"I'm trying," he manages to pant out through the tightness in his lungs and the burn of lactic acid in his legs. Behind them he can hear the blasts of Ronon's energy pistol and the answering rounds of ammunition fire from the enemy - a group of uniformed guards they'd encountered within minutes of stepping aboard the accelerator. Finally the end of the corridor approaches and Rodney rounds the corner at full speed, only just managing to screech to a halt in front of a closed door. Teyla pulls up beside him, turning to face any potential attacks with her P-90 raised and at the ready.
"Can you open it?" she asks over her shoulder, her position firm and braced for combat as the staccato sound of automatic weapons fire still sounds behind them.
"Yes." Rodney's already scrambling with the panel covering the locking mechanism as he replies, tearing off the cover and reaching inside to pluck out a couple of the crystals and then cross-wire it such a way that the doors starts to reluctantly slide open. A quick glance at his life-signs detector tells him that the room is still empty and he's ready to enter just as soon as the door opens far enough to allow it. "Come on," he urges, reaching out to pull Teyla through the doorway with him.
Teyla follows him through, the barrel of her weapon sweeping over the room once before she positions herself to the left of the still-open doorway, bracing herself against the wall and aiming in preparation to fire. Rodney's already at the controls on this side of the door, poised ready to close them as soon as Ronon catches up to them. The sound of fighting can still be heard down the hall, but it's starting to diminish now as their enemies fall to Ronon's wrath.
Teyla and Rodney exchange a glance as the gunfire finally falls silent and there's the sound of pounding feet. Ronon appears around the bend moments later, his face covered in sweat, but with a triumphant smile on his face.
"Got them all," he says as he walks into the middle of the small utility room in which they've found themselves, jumping up on the table positioned there and surveying them both with a victorious air.
"Good," Rodney replies as he closes and secures the door. "Right, on to stage two of the plan." He walks over to Ronon, shooing him off the table with the wave of his scanner, plunking it and his rucksack down on it in Ronon's place.
Stage one had actually gone off surprisingly well. Rodney had been initially worried that they'd encounter serious problems getting through the accelerator's shield, but thankfully none had materialised. Instead, in another ingenious piece of engineering, the Ancients appeared to have programmed their accelerator's cloak/shield to recognise and permit the passage of any craft of Ancient design. It's actually something that makes a lot of sense to Rodney, especially considering the ongoing war with the Wraith and the necessity of ships landing and taking off during the heat of battle. The in-built safe guard that only ATA-carriers could pilot the jumpers minimised the risk and Rodney made a mental note to have a look to see if he could reconfigure Atlantis' shields to do something similar upon their return. He's certain John will only be too happy to volunteer as test-pilot during the testing phase.
So, they'd docked and had disembarked onto the accelerator managing to escape detection. Of course, their luck couldn't be expected to continue to hold, so naturally they'd run into a group of armed men within minutes of leaving the jumper. But even that inconvenience had been rendered minor courtesy of Ronon's sharp shooting and Rodney's life-signs detector. Despite numerous attempts, Rodney had been unable to hack into the accelerator's computer system from the jumper, nor had he been able to pick up any life-sign readings. As a result, they'd been left with no choice but to enter the accelerator blind.
Rodney starts unpacking the contents of his rucksack onto the table. They don't have much time, no doubt their encounter with the group of guards will have drawn the attention of everyone else onboard, but Rodney is reasonably certain that the door to this room will hold long enough for him to get access to the computer system and work out whether John is actually on board. With his laptop, scanner and life-signs detector all at hand, Rodney gets to work.
He starts by hooking up his detector to his laptop, hoping to be able to boost its scanning range and then use the more sensitive analysis program on his computer to review the results. His hands are shaking slightly as he makes the connection and implements the scan, making sure to pick up as many indicators as he can. This, after all, is quite possibly the most important part of the mission. He can't allow himself to dwell on just how much is riding on the results.
While he waits for the scan and analysis to finish, he turns his attention to tapping into the accelerator's database. To this end, he unpacks his second laptop, a handful of cabling and a collection of control crystals, glancing around the room to identify a likely access point. Over in the far corner, he spots a data node which looks identical to the ones throughout Atlantis. Excellent, from there he should be able to get access to most systems.
Quickly crossing over to the node, Rodney sets out his equipment on the floor, hunches down beside it, and gets to work. He can feel Ronon pacing back and forth across the breadth of the room behind him, but he tries to block that out. This is delicate work and he can't allow himself to be distracted by anything, not even the sense of hope that is steadily rising. Teyla suddenly appears silently at his elbow, kneeling down beside him and calmly passing him his tools in response to his snapped instructions.
"How much longer?" Ronon asks, breaking the silence at last.
Rodney glances at his watch, surprised to find that it's been almost twenty minutes since they entered the room. Ronon is right; they need to get a move on.
"I've almost managed to get a link with the central computer," he replies, slotting in another crystal and then attaching a couple more cables to the node in an effort to bypass the secondary systems so he can tap directly into the central core itself. "There's just one more barrier of code to crack." He takes a deep breath in preparation for facing yet another firewall. "Make yourself useful and see if the scan's finished, will you?" he says to Ronon, gesturing towards the laptop on the table with the end of the fibre optic cable he holding. He frowns down at it for a moment, trying to work out how best to connect it, reinsert the crystal he's got in his other hand and work on cracking the safety protocols all at the same time.
"Let me," Teyla says, reaching out and plucking crystal and cable out of his hands with the flash of a smile.
"Thanks," he replies. "Um, can you just hold this connection in place while I finish up." As she does as he asks, Rodney very carefully focuses his attention back to his laptop, determined not to think about what Ronon's checking.
"I think it's done," Ronon reports and, despite his focus, Rodney feels his stomach somersault in nervous anticipation.
"Good, good," Rodney responds, pleased to hear that his voice is steady, for the most part at any rate. He's down to de-coding the final few protocols and can't afford a lapse in concentration. Besides which, he's really not up to considering the implications of the scan quite yet. "I'm just about... There, I'm done here too. Okay Teyla, you can let go now, I can see the connection." A few keystrokes has the data scrolling over his screen and he sets the laptop to one side as the connection establishes itself.
Hefting himself to his feet with a small groan, he crosses over to where Ronon is standing bent in front of the other laptop. Ronon looks up as Rodney approaches, moving to one side and gesturing towards the screen.
"Well?" he asks. "Is he here?" The slight tightness around his eyes is the only thing belaying his nervousness.
Rodney takes a deep breath, suddenly beset with nerves himself. This is it, he thinks, this is what will tell them, once and for all, whether there is a reason for them to be here or whether they are merely risking their lives on yet another fool's errand guided by faint hope. He glances up at Ronon, who is standing shoulder-to-shoulder beside him, and then over to Teyla, who has come to stand with them. He sees his own apprehension reflected in their eyes, but their display of unity gives him the strength to continue. There's nothing to fear, he tells himself, because John is here. Because he has to be.
Rodney tilts the laptop screen back slightly and starts scrolling through the results, his heart in his throat. There, in the midst of data relating to everything from the pulsar's particle flux to the atmospheric conditions on the accelerator, is a tiny and seemingly insignificant row of numbers - if he hadn't been looking specifically for it, he would never have even noticed it. As it is, however, he knows that it is without doubt the single most important discovery he's ever made. His body sags in relief and he has to lock his knees to prevent himself collapsing in a heap on the floor as a heady rush of pure joy that shoots through him.
"It's him," he says, feeling his eyes prickle with emotion, but completely unable to tear his gaze away from the hard proof in front of him. "Oh my god, I'm picking up the signal from his subcutaneous transmitter. He's actually here."
As if from a distance, Rodney feels Teyla wrap her arms around his neck, pressing herself against his side as she hugs him in delight. On his other side, he's vaguely aware of Ronon pounding him on the back in celebration, but Rodney can't really pay attention to anything else except for the words pounding through his head.
John is here. John is alive.
~*~
Sometime Earlier
He woke once more to the agony he'd come to associate with consciousness, it flooded through him in a torrent, working its way into every part of his body, drowning out his memory and swamping his mind. The energy was building again, demanding even more from him this time, inundating his body and almost overwhelming his system. It left him with no option but to funnel it through himself and then out into... somewhere... He wasn't sure where... or why... He wasn't sure of anything any more. It was all he could do to keep a tight hold on his tenuous grasp on consciousness and fight with all that he is to prevent the pain from tearing his mind apart.
The imperative was still there. It was present in every breath he took and echoed through his aching body with every beat of his heart. He had no choice but to obey its demand - opening his mind to its orders and flooding... something... with the power that was being routed through his body. Every now and then he'd catch the odd flash of an image - a beam, a collision, a star. He was just about aware enough to understand that what he was doing was somehow operating something, but then another surge flooded his body with energy and pain and even this meagre understanding was lost.
~*~
Present Day
Several long corridors and another encounter with groups of armed guards - the former navigated thanks to Rodney's scanner and the latter dealt with effectively by Ronon's pistol and Teyla's P-90 - sees them at a locked door in the outermost arm of the accelerator. Rodney double-checks the scanner he's clutching like a life-line and then looks up to address his waiting team mates.
"Right," he says, gesturing towards the door with his scanner. "This is it."
"Can you open it?" Ronon asks, his fingers stroking along his holstered weapon almost lovingly.
Rodney's eyes flicker down to Ronon's holster and he has to admit to being momentarily tempted to let Ronon just blow the fucking door down... but, no, they don't know enough about what's inside and although he's picking up John's transponder loud and clear, his life signs are another matter entirely.
"I can open it," he replies, turning to the locking mechanism and proceeding to do just that.
The door slides open to reveal a large and seemingly empty dimly lit room. They enter one by one, Teyla crossing the threshold first with her P-90 held high. There is absolutely no sign of life and, for a moment, Rodney feels his heart sink, crushing his hope. Yet, he thinks as he continues to look around, perhaps all is not lost. In the centre of the room is a raised dais with a long oblong casket placed upon it. There's something about the room that is strangely familiar, but Rodney can't quite put his finger on why.
"It's like the Chair room on Atlantis," Teyla says softly as she lowers her P-90 and slowly approaches the dais.
"You're right," Rodney says, his eyes flickering from the casket to the readings from his scanner and back. He's reasonably sure he knows what they'll find inside it and part of him wants to rip the cover off at once just to get John the fuck out of that horrible coffin-like thing. The more reasonable, saner part of him is urging caution and Rodney does his best to listen to it.
"It's him in there, isn't it?" Ronon asks. "They've got him trapped in thing with this gene so they can power their accelerator." He grits the words out on a growl of disgust with which Rodney completely agrees. Whilst Rodney is all for pushing the boundaries of technology and does see certain advantages to linking developments to the human body, this is an appalling step too far.
"This is truly horrifying," Teyla says, her voice shaking with anger and disgust. She moves swiftly up the three steps to the casket and placing her hands flat on its surface, her head bowing almost reverently, as if trying to ease John's suffering through the thick material. "How do we get him out?" she, turning her bowed head to the side so she can look at Rodney.
Rodney swallows and consults his scanner again, tweaking the protocols slightly so he can get a clearer picture of what is inside the casket. He closes his eyes in gratitude when the readings he had been assuming were John's life-signs grow stronger with the new measurements. He doesn't allow himself much of a respite, however, because John's life-signs are weak and erratic - his brain patterns almost non-existent whilst his heart rate is lurching madly from a worrying low number of beats per minute to something disturbingly high.
"I'm not sure," he answers, thinking hard. "His condition is by no means stable and there's some kind of... well, electricity, for want of a better word, running through his body." He looks up at Teyla and Ronon, the terrifying prospect of failure looming and making him freeze up completely. "I... I don't know if I can get him out... At least not without killing him. He doesn't need me, he needs a doctor."
Rodney comes to stand beside Teyla and stares down at the nondescript lid of the casket, imagining the frozen body of the man trapped beneath. And it's not just any man, it's John trapped in there. John, who had somehow managed to slink his way past Rodney's many defences. John, who Rodney had thought he'd lost forever. God, what if he really can't do this? What if he fails and John is trapped here - lying as good as dead in an Ancient coffin until his body is finally wrung dry. Rodney closes his eyes as he feels himself start to shake. He doesn't think he can bear it.
Suddenly he feels a hand land heavily on his shoulder, and turns to find Ronon looking at him consideringly. "He's hooked up to some Ancient machine with electricity going through his body," Ronon says. "I wouldn't say he needs a doctor, I'd say he needs you."
Rodney blinks, for a moment completely floored by Ronon's summation of the situation. His brain slowly cranks back into gear and he nods, accepting Ronon's compliment for the encouragement that it is, and thumps his hand a couple of times against the side of his scanner to get himself back on track.
"Okay, okay; I can do this," he says to himself and begins to study the casket in earnest.
~*~
Present Day
Suddenly everything changes - all at once the pain stops; it is simply gone. He lies in the darkness with his heart pounding, marvelling at the complete and utter absence of suffering. After so long of knowing nothing but pain and confusion, the lack of both is almost too much for him to bear. He is still in complete darkness and unable to move, but those facts no longer seem to matter as he luxuriates in the lack of agony.
He waits, unsure of what to expect now. Will the pain return? Will he lose consciousness again? Time passes, he's unsure how much, but his situation remains unchanged. Gradually awareness and comprehension return and with them come his memories. For a moment he can feel nothing but relief and gratitude as he's finally able to remember who he is. He's Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard, the military commander of Atlantis. However, dread swiftly follows on the heels of his positive emotions as it swiftly becomes obvious that he's been captured and tortured.
His body jerks as he recalls from where he was abducted; he was on a mission with his team. He starts to struggle as worry and anger energises his tired body. Rodney, Ronon and Teyla - he has to get out of here and go find them. He strains with all his strength, his back arching and his arms and legs pulling at the bonds that restrain him, but it's no good. He's firmly bound and can't get free no matter how hard he struggles. Nevertheless, he can't prevent himself from trying again; growling out his frustration as he kicks out violently with his legs and attempts to wrench his arms free. It useless and he's exhausted by the time he can fight no more, his body going limp and leaving him panting harshly into the darkness.
Just then the sound of voices penetrates through the chamber in which he's trapped. He's instantly alert, slowing his breathing automatically and attending hard to what's happening outside, his body tensed for action in spite of his situation. The voices draw nearer and for a moment John can hardly believe it as he realises that he recognises the voices.
"Okay, I think I've managed to stop the power flow through his body to the accelerator and isolated the casket from the main systems. All that's left to do now is just... There. Oh my god, John? Are you alright? Can you hear me?"
Thank goodness, John thinks to himself, the blinding light of happiness momentarily eclipsing everything else. He knows that voice. It's Rodney.
~*~
Present Day
"Rodney?" John's voice is weak and rough from disuse, but to Rodney it's more welcome than anything he's ever heard. "You okay?"
"Yes. Yes, John. I'm here and of course I'm okay - you're the one who's been in danger, you idiot," Rodney snaps, his voice gruff with emotion. He reaches down into the casket to touch John, his hands drawn immediately to John's face and cupping one of his far too pale cheeks gently.
John tilts his head into Rodney's touch, his eyes flickering closed for a moment. "Rodney," he breathes again.
"Shh, don't try to talk. You're safe now, we've got you," Rodney says, his fingers stroking lightly across John's face. Next to him, Teyla is reaching out as well, taking one of John's hands in hers and holding it tightly.
Reluctantly pulling his hand away from John's face, Rodney starts to ponder the intricacies involved with actually extricating John from the casket. Physically John doesn't look half bad for someone who has spent over three months locked in a coffin, but the variety of tubes and wires buried into his skin all over his body are testament to how he's been used - his body given nutrients and muscle stimulation sufficient to keep him in relatively good health while he was being used essentially as a giant genetic multi-plug. Rodney feels his anger start to build again at the relief at finding John alive slowly gives way to horror at how he's been treated.
"Teyla, Ronon," John's eyes are mostly clear as he pulls his gaze from Rodney's to look at Teyla and then down to Ronon, who has appeared at the foot of the casket.
"John," Teyla says, and Rodney sees her clasp John's hand even tighter between her own. "John, it is so very good to see you."
"Sheppard," Ronon says at last, circling around to the other side and then walking up towards John's head so that he's standing opposite Rodney. "Come on, let's get you home." He leans down and grasps John's arm, looking for all the world as if he's just going to haul John up and out of the casket.
"No!" Rodney shouts in horror. "For god's sake, just wait a minute, will you? We've just found him and I'd very much like to get him home without him bleeding out all over the floor. Before we do anything, we've got to unhook him from all this stuff."
John's head turns back to Rodney at the sound of his rant, his eyebrow quirking a bit and a smile pulling at his lips. "That's my Rodney," he says hoarsely, pulling his arms loose of both Ronon's and Teyla's hold to start pulling on the wires connected to his skin himself.
"And you just stop it too," Rodney snaps, batting John's hands down. "I have no idea how all these things are connected to you, so we're just going to snap off the wires and worry about the rest when we get to Atlantis." He illustrates what he means by pinching a nearby wire off between his thumb and forefinger, rolling his eyes when Ronon immediately unsheathes a knife and starts slicing at the wires and tubes that run down the left side of John's body.
"Atlantis," John breathes, his eyes closing and his lashes fanning out in black crescents over his too pale skin.
"You've been missed, John," Teyla says as she moves to assist Rodney in snapping off the remaining connections on John's right side.
Between them, they get John free in a matter of minutes. Ronon reaches into the casket once more, intending to haul John out of it.
"I can manage," John insists, waving away Ronon's help and struggling to get a firm grip on the casket's sides with which to haul himself to his feet.
Rodney resisted the urge to roll his eyes yet again. "Clearly you cannot be expected to be operating at your full mental capacity," he told John. "But you've been captured, tortured, and put through god knows what else over the past three months, so you will let us help you." Ronon grins at him in approval and Rodney gestures at him to continue to help John up and out of the casket.
"Three months?" John asks, his eyes wide and startled as the length of time sinks in, his hands holding on tightly to Ronon as Ronon helps heft him out of the casket. John's legs hold him upright, but he's shaky on his feet, so Ronon readjusts his hold on John so that he's propping up John's left side.
"Yeah," Rodney replies, moving swiftly around the casket and taking up position on John's right. "Three fucking long months," he repeats bitterly, wrapping an arm about John's waist above Ronon's and hefting John's right arm over his shoulder so he can help bear his weight.
"Sorry 'bout that, buddy," John replies, his arm tightening around Rodney's shoulders briefly.
Just then a loud noise from outside has Teyla heading for the door at a run, her P-90 at the ready.
"Someone is coming," she says, positioning herself to one side of the door, weapon at the ready. "We need to move now."
Together, Ronon and Rodney manage to get John down the dais steps and towards the door, their different heights making the movements awkward at first, but becoming smoother as they gradually adjust. Ronon unholsters his energy pistol and Rodney scrambles for his scanner in an effort to see who exactly is waiting for them outside.
"Hey, guys, I'm okay really; just give me a weapon," John says, but Rodney, Ronon and Teyla all ignore him.
"Huh," Rodney says as he studies his scanner's read-outs. "There are only two of them outside - we should be able to take them easily."
"Right," Teyla says. "I will deal with them - you two keep John out of range."
Ronon nods and he and Rodney manoeuvre John to the far side of the door and into the corner, well out of the most probable line of fire. Teyla glances at them, waiting until they are in position, Rodney holding up John while Ronon stands in front of them, his pistol raised.
"Ready," he says.
Teyla nods in reply, moving forward to swipe her hand over the door to open it before stepping to the side once more. Rodney braces himself, ready for the imminent fight, his arms tightening around John without his conscious volition - partly from the need to just hold John to him and partly to stop the self-sacrificing idiot from doing anything stupidly heroic like grabbing Rodney's Berretta and wading into the fight. Yet nothing by silence greets them from the corridor.
Cautiously, Rodney peers around Ronon's bulk to glance over to where Teyla is inching her way around the edge of the door, her P-90 raised.
"We know you are there," she shouts out into the corridor. "We just want to take what is ours and be gone. If you attempt to stop us, we will kill you."
"Now, now, there is no need for that," a familiar voice replies.
Rodney jolts in surprise, although this is hardly unexpected, and feels John freeze beside him.
"Trin," John hisses. "That bastard; I knew he was no good."
"Quite," Rodney replies, his mind whirring with what Trin could possibly offer them of sufficient value to ensure his survival.
"I am sure we can come to some equitable arrangement," Trin continues. "We all have a vested interest in the destruction of the Wraith, do we not? And this facility offers a real opportunity for us to do just that."
Rodney snorts at this. "Don't be ridiculous," he replies. "This is, at most, an experiment - one that was never even run."
"Ah, Dr McKay," Trin calls out in return. "It appears that you do not grasp the intricacies of this device, for the experiment, as you call it, is already underway."
Something in Trin's tone makes Rodney pause; he's been so caught up in the sheer necessity of rescuing John that's he completely forgotten about what the accelerator was actually using John to do. Now that Trin has reminded him of it, the creation of all those strange quarks starts to sound alarm bells in his mind. He quickly shoulders his way out of his rucksack, dumping it on the floor and then leaning down to pull out one of his laptops.
"Rodney?" John asks in concern, bracing himself up against the wall with one hand placed on Rodney's back. "Is something wrong?"
"I'm not sure... Maybe..." Rodney replies as he stands back up, balancing his laptop in the palm of his left hand and using his right to reconnect remotely to the accelerator's central processor. He quickly brings up the reports of the latest activity in the collision chamber and then switches to check on the output from the pulsar. "Damn," he mutters to himself as he scrolls through the star's particle flux. "This is not good. Teyla," he calls out. "Can you bring him in here - we have a problem."
"Problem," Ronon asks, turning his head to look back at Rodney.
"Yeah," Rodney replies, staring grimly at his laptop screen. "That kidnapping maniac out there has quite possibly doomed the whole damn galaxy."
~*~
Present Day
John watches, still somewhat dazed, as Teyla and Ronon frog-march a rather shaky Trin and another man into the room. Both men are plainly dressed, unarmed and not in any discernible uniform and John gets the impression that they are the people who are responsible for what's happened to him. Judging from the violence with which Ronon and, somewhat more surprisingly, Teyla handle the men, John concludes that his team agrees. Even Rodney is more tense than usual, his hand hovering over the butt of his Beretta threateningly in a very un-Rodney like manner.
For his part, John is still coming to terms with what has happened to him. Every now and then he gets a flash of memory from his time in captivity - his mind clouding over and his muscles cramping in pain at the recollection. It had been an endless and bewildering time of confusion and painful sensation, mercifully ended when John came back to himself fully to find that he was listening to the familiar sound of Rodney's voice. As his gaze moves over Rodney now, standing in a protective manner beside John, his sturdy body lending John his strength, John can't help but be grateful that he acted when he did back on Atlantis, his actions then ensuring that Rodney was his. Having Rodney at his side now, when he's muddled and hurt, helps enormously. That Rodney had obviously searched for him, found him and was now unwilling to leave his side is like a soothing balm on his broken body and mind. And it isn't just Rodney, John thinks to himself proudly as he watches the rest of his team move protectively around him as they back away from the two Catarans, their weapons still drawn.
John had been moved out of the corner and into a chair by Rodney and Ronon and part of him wants to be on his feet with his team mates, facing the threat head on, but he knows that he should be sensible. His head is pounding, he's nauseous and he feels like every last drop of energy has been wrung from his body. It's better, he supposes, than being fed on by a Wraith, but surely only marginally so.
"Now," Rodney says, drawing John's attention back to their current situation. "Tell me what the hell you people - and I use the word loosely - have done." Rodney's words are tight and angry, his body tense. John has to resist the urge to go over to him, wrap himself around him and try to get him to relax; it's hard to see Rodney so obviously hurting like this.
Trin's gaze flicks briefly to John for a moment, but a growl from Ronon and a not so gentle prod with the barrel of his energy pistol has Trin wincing and turning his attention back to Rodney. "Why, nothing, Dr McKay," he replies smoothly. "We have simply been completing the Ancient's work by using the Colonel's unique genetic structure to get this facility up and running."
John notes that Rodney is visibly shaking now, his mouth moving soundlessly as if he is struggling to find the words to encompass the man's immense stupidity. Giving in to the temptation, John struggles to his feet and reaches out so he can rest his hand lightly on Rodney's shoulder, hoping to help him out just as Rodney's mere presence is doing for him. Beneath John's palm, he feels Rodney take a deep breath, before finally addressing Trin.
"Leaving aside the fact that you abducted and tortured one of our team, I cannot believe that you would be -- no, no, wait, demonstrably you are." He pauses then to take another calming breath before continuing, gesturing towards the laptop he has propped up on the now closed lid of the casket in which John had been kept. "Look, no matter what you may think, this is not a weapon of any kind, it's an experiment. The Ancients were scientists long before their war with the Wraith, this is what remains from one of their scientific endeavours."
"Yes," Trin agrees. "And, once completed, it has the ability to funnel the energy of the star - a source of power far greater than anything we have on Catara; greater even than your naquadah generators or your Zero Point Modules."
"No!" Rodney shouts. "This experiment isn't about power - it's about knowledge. The results may produce a huge amount of power as a by-product, but not in any format that is containable. Look," he says, grabbing the laptop and then thrusting it in front of Trin's face. "See this? This is the particle flux from the star - you see here - those are strange quarks - highly unstable particles in themselves, but incredibly destructive when amassed together like this."
Trin is quiet - studying the screen in front of him in confusion. John thinks that it's time he intervened.
"Rodney?" he says. "Mind letting the rest of us in on what's going on?"
Rodney snatches his computer out of Trin's hands and turns away from him with a snort of disgust. "So, this is what I think is going on. What this is," he says, gesturing around them as best he can with the laptop still in his hands, "is a particle accelerator - a collider which smashes together particles in an attempt to discover new particles which would otherwise decay far too rapidly to be measured."
"Okay," John says. "So, it's like the one in Illinois?"
"Yes, the Tevatron, like that; only this accelerator is far more advanced. You see, the Tevatron is a synchrotron - it collides protons and anti-protons. This, however, is on a far greater scale - greater than even the LHC at CERN which collides protons. It's amazing really..." Rodney trails off, momentarily lost in thought, before his gaze snaps back into focus again. "Anyway, the reason the Ancients built this collider here is because of the proximity to the pulsar - it was the intended target of their experiment."
"And there is now a risk, Rodney?" Teyla asks.
"Yes," Rodney replies. "See what the Ancients seem to have been trying to do is essentially change the composition of the pulsar itself - to create a strange star."
"Strange?" Ronon queries. "Like those things you were detecting."
"Exactly, like the strange quarks," Rodney says. "This is all new physics in terms of where we are with understanding particle interactions. The basic idea comes from a possible model which hypothesises that nuclear matter - essentially the bulk of the mass of the visible universe - is not stable, but merely meta-stable. Imagine something sitting at the bottom of a valley - it's stable because it's as low as it can go. But meta-stability is when there is actually another valley next to the first that is even lower. Classically speaking, there's a barrier - you have to climb over the next hill to reach the lower valley and for that you need energy. However, quantum mechanically, you can tunnel through the energetically forbidden region - through the barrier from one valley to the other. Of course, the bigger the hill between the valleys, the less likely it is that this tunnelling will happen and, as a result, meta-stability is really only unstable over very long timescales. However, if you wait long enough, sufficient energy will eventually come available for it to happen."
Trin snorts at this, shaking his head. "This is ridiculous," he says. "If the universe was really only, as you say, meta-stable we would not all be here."
"But that's not entirely true," Rodney replies. "All we can conclude from the fact that we and the universe are still in existence is that if nuclear matter really is meta-stable, it has a very long half-life - many times the current age of the universe. Nevertheless, it might still be the case that it is meta-stable. And what you idiots have caused to happen here merely proves it."
"So what is happening out there?" John asks, wanting nothing more than for this whole mess to be over and done with so they can all go home and he can curl up on his bed with Rodney wrapped around him. However, by now he knows Pegasus far too well to think that anything is ever that easy - even if abduction and torture has already taken place.?
Rodney frowns, "Nothing good," he says with another glare at Trin. "What these incompetent fools have done, at least at my best guess - which is a pretty damn good one - is manage to create a strangelet."
"A strangelet?" John prompts as Rodney goes back to his glaring.
"Yes, a strangelet," Rodney confirms as he turns to face John. He's looking more like himself now, a little frazzled perhaps, but captivatingly invigorated by his science. "Basically a stable lump of strange matter - strange matter being made up of an equal mass of up, down and strange quarks. This differs from nuclear matter - our matter - which is made up of mostly up and down quarks. There is a hypothesis that strange matter is the ultimately stable state, unlike the meta-stable state of nuclear matter. This sounds odd at first because normally, particles that contain strange quarks are very unstable - they decay extremely quickly, in other words. However, it is thought that if you had a sufficiently large amount of strange matter collected together - a strangelet - then it would actually be stable. The important point being that it would actually be more stable than nuclear matter - the lower valley."
"Okay," John says, trying to wrap his aching head around Rodney's techno-babble to get to the vital point he knows it must contain. "And creating a strangelet is bad because...?"
"Because strangelets catalyse a change of state - meaning that if it were to interact with nuclear matter, it would convert it into strange matter." Rodney says, looking very serious. "And that would be a very bad thing. Not only would it be essentially changing the very nature of everything it interacts with, but as it grows it would also be releasing huge amounts of energy as the conversion involves matter moving from a high energy state to a lower energy state." He pauses to look at each of them in turn, his eyes wide and scared. "What I'm saying is that none of us would survive the resulting explosion, let alone the change of state of the matter."
Even Trin is looking apprehensive at this, but he nevertheless attempts to rebut Rodney's conclusions. "But the strangelet is, surely, positively charged," he argues. "This will make it unlikely that it will interact with nuclei, because they'll simply repel each other."
"Yes," Rodney hisses, his anger returning with a vengeance, "which is precisely why the Ancients built this accelerator pointed directly at a neutron star. A neutron star is just made of neutrons - all the protons and electrons have been fused into neutrons by the enormous gravitational force of the star. So, there is no electric repulsion, meaning it will interact with it! That was, after all, the whole purpose of the experiment - to create a strange star."
Trin falls silent at that, a look of indignation on his face, but no verbal response to Rodney's point.
"Okay," John says, having heard enough. "We need a plan - Rodney, can we stop this?" He looks behind him at the casket with a grimace, trying to work up the courage to get back in it.
"No," Rodney says, walking over to him quickly and grasping his arm. "No - you are not getting back into that thing!"
"Rodney," John says, resisting the impulse to just let himself collapse into Rodney's embrace, close his eyes and forget about this whole mess. He, instead, faces the reality of the situation, as he always has. "We might not have a choice."
"Well, I do not accept that," Rodney replies firmly, shaking his head and pulling John further away from the casket. "The Ancients built this thing - they must have been aware of the risks, even if these idiots weren't. There has to be a safeguard - something to reverse the star's change of state."
"It would not make any difference now anyway, even if Colonel Sheppard were to get back in the control chamber," Trin says, sounding fairly subdued. "The process is already underway. There were a variety of initial steps we had to undertake to ready the accelerator, but the final one was completed a matter of days before you arrived. Now, it is simply too late."
Rodney whirls around to look at Trin, his eyes narrowed in anger. "Look, I do not want to hear one more word out of you. Seriously, if I hear one more peep, I'm going to let Ronon here take you next door and do what I have no doubt he's been wanting to do ever since it became clear that you are the reason we lost our team leader."
John is a little taken aback at the cold and emotionless anger in Rodney's voice, something with which he is intimately familiar, but not something he would ever have thought to associate with Rodney. John is not surprised, however, at the look of terror on Trin's face; one that deepens as Ronon moves to stand beside Rodney and both men glower down at him intimidatingly.
Having obviously put Trin in his place, Rodney turns away from him and starts to pace up and down the room, muttering to himself under his breath. "Right, now, where was I... Hmm, several stages, but of course," he breathes, pausing in his pacing and tilting his head to one side consideringly. "There would have to have been many stages required to produce particles sufficiently nucleon rich to create a strangelet - that must be what the rings on the outer edges of the main accelerator are for - colliding heavy element nuclei together, starting with something like naquadah I suspect, until the stranglet itself could finally be formed..." he trails off, his eyes going vague.
John waits, recognising the signs of Rodney on the brink of a revelation. Perhaps he wouldn't have to get back in that torture chamber after all.
"That's it!" Rodney exclaims at last, snapping his fingers and turning to beam at John, thankfully looking more like himself at last. "The intermediary stages, I bet that they not only created the particles necessary for creating the strangelet, but also created the particles necessary to absorb the strangelets and change them back into nuclear matter."
"Nuclear matter," Ronon says as an aside to John, watching somewhat bemusedly as Rodney whirls around to find a surface onto which to plunk down his laptop and starts typing at breakneck speed, "that's the good stuff, right."
John can't help but laugh at this, despite his headache and the increasing queasiness of his stomach. "Right," he agrees, "looks like we're all going to be expert particle physicists after this one."
"A-ha!" Rodney proclaims, standing up straight for a moment. "Just as I thought! According to the central computer, one of the auxiliary accelerators is an electron-positron collider. Which means that somewhere there's also got to be..." he trails off again and hunches over his laptop once more. After several more minutes of frantic typing, he stands back up again. "Yes - here's an array for generating the magnetic fields needed to trap the stranglets." He turns back around to regard them all with a look of triumph so familiar it makes John's heart ache. "We can stop this."
~*~
Present Day
Rodney has never really been someone to seek out and embrace his deeper emotions. It's not a talent he's ever felt the need to develop, let alone cultivate, reasoning that his tendency to wear his heart on his sleeve and the fact that he's rather vocal about his opinions on most subjects are sufficient enough measures to preserve his mental well-being. So it comes as something of a shock to realise just how off-balance he feels now. He'd been so caught up in the preparations and processes of finding John, that he's completely unprepared for the reality of either it or his reaction to it. Looking back on the past three months, he can see now just how repressed he's become - how hard he'd worked to rid himself of any and all emotion - a necessary step to spare himself the paralysing pain of John's loss. That wasn't something on which he could afford to dwell then - all his energies had to he focused on finding John, not selfishly on his own irrelevant and ultimately useless feelings. Yet, now that the objective has been achieved, it's like the floodgates have been opened, and Rodney suddenly finds himself awash with a tidal wave of emotions so strong it threatens to drown him.
Uncertainty, guilt, anger, horror, disgust, hope, gratitude, relief, love - they all follow in quick succession, each one battering against his exhausted mind with such force that he feels dizzy, doesn't know which way to turn or how to react. It gets to the point where the potential disaster with the accelerator comes as an almost welcome reprieve, giving him something concrete on which to concentrate - a physical problem he has first to quantify and then to solve. He does both, his intelligence and insight into his discipline holding true despite his emotional turmoil.
Once he'd figured out what precisely the Ancient accelerator was designed to do, it was down to the relatively simple and rather anti-climactic matter of implementing the magnetic shielding the Ancients had built to collect and neutralise the strangelets created in the pulsar. It had been keeping a handle on himself while he was actually doing all that which had been the hard part. John had looked so fragile through it all - his skin far too pale, the only colour coming in the red, swollen patches around the wires still embedded in his body - that Rodney was tempted to let Ronon have his way and just shoot that bastard Trin and his associate and leave the Catarans to their own mess and head for home. After all, it would take decades, centuries even, before the strange star particle flux of strangelets would reach Atlantis...
But no, he knew that he couldn't do that, not only would John - the self-designated saviour of Pegasus - never countenance such a thing, but Rodney himself couldn't either. Having the destruction of the majority of one solar system on his conscience was quite enough for him and, despite the initial urges of his baser instincts whenever he looked at John or thought about what he'd suffered over the past three months, the entirety of Catara certainly did not deserve such a fate.
They had all taken a certain amount of pleasure in stranding Trin and his nameless counterpart on the accelerator when they left. Ronon perhaps less so, as he'd been all for at least inflicting some amount of pain first, but even he'd reluctantly agreed to leave the matter of suitable punishment until after they'd got John safely back home.
"You should have at least let me rough them up a little," Ronon grumbles as they make their way back down to the docking bay where they'd left the jumper, John still supported between them. "They can just use their ship to get back to Catara and then will probably disappear completely."
Rodney turns his head to grin at him. "No they can't," he says with much satisfaction.
"Rodney," John says, his tone warning despite the fatigue evident in both his voice and face. "What did you do?"
"Me?" Rodney replies innocently. "I didn't do a thing." He feels the fingers of John's hand dig into his shoulder and sighs. "Well, at least nothing directly," he amends swiftly, "although there might have been a stray beam from the magnetic shield generators which may have possibly knocked their engine coils out of alignment..." he trails off as Ronon and John both start to laugh. "So," he continues as they round the final corner to the docking bay, "I suspect they will both still be here when Elizabeth contacts the Cataran government."
"That was a good idea, Rodney," Teyla says, her voice warm with approval that Rodney is grateful to hear; she has been very quiet in the time since John's release. Rodney supposes that it's only to be expected that they'd each react to John's rescue in their own ways, his own emotional discord coming as more of a surprise to him that either Ronon's anger or Teyla's quiet contemplation.
He's relieved as they finally enter the docking bay and head towards the jumper. John is breathing heavily and Rodney suspects that he and Ronon are bearing most of his weight, not that the stubborn man would actually admit to how badly he's feeling. They come to a halt and Rodney fumbles in his pocket for the jumper remote, pressing the buttons to de-cloak the ship and lower the doorway.
"Hey," John says at the jumper shimmers into view. "I thought Jumper 12 was down."
"Yes, well," Rodney replies, pocketing the remote once more as he and Ronon heft John into the ship. "The capture of a certain Air Force Colonel necessitated a clandestine rescue operation, so, demonstrably; it's not down any more."
"Clandestine?" John asks, looking up at Rodney in surprise as Ronon lowers him into a chair.
"Umm," Rodney says, not sure how to answer that, he hadn't intended to let that bit out just yet, hoping to delay the exact details of what they'd done until John was safely back in Atlantis. Thankfully Teyla takes over.
"You were gone for well over three months, John," she says softly. "And, despite our tireless searching, we could find no trace of you."
Rodney watches as John's eyes narrow in thought. "They pulled it, didn't they," he says as understanding dawns. "The search for me, I mean."
"Yes," Teyla replies. "The IOA believed you were dead, but we..." she bends down so she can rest her forehead against John's for a moment before pulling back. "We did not."
John submits to her embrace and then looks at Ronon and then Rodney in turn as Teyla pulls back and takes a seat at the rear of the jumper. "Thank you," he says simply.
As Rodney returns John's gaze and hears his quiet thanks, he feels his tenuous control of his emotions start to slip away. He has to look away to collect himself so that he's capable of piloting them home. As it is, his hands tremble slightly on the controls as he flies the jumper away from the accelerator and down towards the Cataran stargate. John is seated beside him in the co-pilot seat, his eyes closed and his breathing deep and even. Once he's plotted in the course to the 'gate, Rodney allows himself to turn his head and look his fill, letting the mere sight of John - alive and whole and here - help calm him.
As they approach the stargate, Rodney reaches across to the dial Atlantis, a twisting coil of nerves collecting in his stomach as he does so. It's all been worth it, of course, but he can't help but be slightly concerned at the reception they will receive. From behind him, he feels Teyla's slim hand come to rest reassuringly on his shoulder.
"It will be alright, Rodney," she says, her voice full of quiet confidence. "You will see."
He nods as the wormhole swooshes into life. Glancing back to his team mates, he takes courage from Teyla's smile and Ronon's nod as he activates the comms and sends through his IDC.
"Atlantis, this is McKay and the rest of SGA-1; we're requesting permission to come home."
~*~
Present Day
His homecoming is completely overwhelming. John's never been particularly comfortable being the centre of attention and if he'd thought his miraculous return from the suicide run he'd undertaken during the siege had been bad, this return from the dead is at least an order of magnitude worse. He's feels immediately guilty at the thought and quashes his reluctance as best he can, allowing a very teary Elizabeth to pull him to her and hold him close. He returns her embrace as best as he's able, his eyes looking beyond her to the other people in the crowd which has gathered in the jumper bay. It's incredible really, he thinks to himself as he manages to extricate himself from Elizabeth's arms, to see how much he's been missed. The crowd is growing by the second as word of his return flies around the city; soldiers and civilians alike flocking into the bay.
Elizabeth looks beyond John and he turns to see Rodney watching her warily, wringing his hands together nervously in front of him.
"Elizabeth..." he starts to say, but is prevented from getting any further by Elizabeth closing the distance between them and pulling him into a hug.
"You did good, Rodney," she says firmly as she steps back to look at him.
Rodney looks startled at her words of praise and John is forcibly reminded of how he had referred to their rescue mission - clandestine. He gets the feeling there is a lot more to that than Teyla had made out. His hunch is further reinforced when Lorne approaches him. Thankfully, his greeting is considerably restrained and he snaps to attention directly in front of John and salutes him smartly. John returns the salute as best he can in his current state before reaching out to shake the man's hand.
"It's good to have you back, sir," Lorne says, his sincerity clear in the both the tone of his voice and the firmness of his grasp. "She's just as you left her."
"Good to be back, Major," John replies. "I'm sure you've been doing an admirable job in my absence." He's surprised when Lorne releases his hand only to turn to Rodney and repeat his whole performance, salute followed by handshake.
"I knew you'd do it, sir," Lorne says to Rodney.
"Yes, well," Rodney replies, looking ever so slightly uncomfortable. "I may have had some help... so thank you."
As Lorne nods to them both and moves away, John turns his head to look at Rodney fully. "Rodney?" he queries.
Rodney waves away his question and, before he can demand more information, the next well-wisher arrives in the form of Radek. Radek shakes his hand, beaming at him all the while. He too turns to Rodney, cocking his head to the side as he looks at him.
"Yes, yes," Rodney says with a much put upon sigh. "Couldn't have done it without you - a joint effort and all that."
Radek laughs before his face turns serious again. "I am glad for you, Rodney," he says, reaching out to clap Rodney on the shoulder. "This is mostly your doing."
"Pffft," Radek says, his eyes sparkling with mirth as he waves away Rodney's words. "What did I do? I knew nothing, remember."
John looks curiously from Radek's departing back to Rodney's oddly expressionless face and shakes his head. Once he's feeling better, he's definitely got to get to the bottom of what exactly Rodney has done to pull off his rescue. As it is, he'd like nothing more than to be able to escape the chaos of the jumper bay and return to the peace of his quarters, but he knows that it's not to be. At the very least, he has a long visit to the infirmary in his future.
****
His prediction soon becomes a reality and, what's likely to be a fair number of hours later, John finds himself awakening to the familiar sights of the infirmary. He stretches his body out, luxuriating in the lack of pain and the simple pleasure of his muscles shifting and flexing under his mental command. Because that's one of the worst things he recalls about his time in that damn coffin - the loss of control of his body and his mind. He shudders at the memory - the confusion, the blindness, the paralysis... He feels his heart start to race and forces himself to take a deep, calming breath.
The sound of the infirmary door opening captures his attention and John is only too grateful for the distraction. When Teyla and Ronon enter, he feels a smile start to stretch over his face. As they spot him and start to approach his bed, he finds his gaze straying behind them, searching. His smile falters slightly; Rodney isn't with them. He busies himself by bracing his arms on either side of his body and pushing up with his legs, moving himself so that he's sitting upright and leaning against the wall.
"John," Teyla says, her smile bright as she moves swiftly to his bedside, leaning down to briefly bring their foreheads together. "You are looking so much better!"
Ronon grunts. "It'd be hard for him to look worse," he says. "Good thing they got all that shit out of you, Sheppard."
John looks down at himself and recalls the painful and slightly itchy sensation of the mess of wires and tubes that had connected him to the Ancient accelerator. He breathes a sigh of relief. "Yeah," is all he can say as he looks up to Ronon again, who is pulling a chair up to the bed.
Declining the proffered chair, Teyla perches herself on the edge of his bed as Ronon takes the seat. Her face goes serious and she glances over to Ronon for a moment before returning her steady gaze to John.
"What?" John asks, feeling himself come alert even though there isn't really a thing he can do lying in an infirmary bed dressed in nothing by a hospital gown.
"John," Teyla begins. "While you have been recovering, we've been speaking to Elizabeth. There are several..." she pauses, apparently searching for the correct word, "issues which we now need to resolve."
"Go on," John prompts.
"Well, the first is what to do about your abduction. Elizabeth and Major Lorne are on Catara at the moment, discussing what has happened with Quoron," she says. "Elizabeth believes it is in everyone's best interests if Trin and the others involved in his plan are brought to justice on Catara."
John nods at this; it's what he would have expected from Elizabeth - a just and diplomatically-tactful resolution. "Okay," he says. "That sounds reasonable."
Teyla nods, apparently pleased with his response. John mentally shrugs, as much as he'd like to see his captors brought to justice here, he knows that is not something that is practical. No, far better to continue to act with Catara's government and therefore hopefully be able to salvage something from the mess.
"The next issue has to do with the IOA," she says.
"Ah, yes," John says, looking up at her with renewed interest. "I've been meaning to ask you guys what exactly you did to get me back?"
Teyla breaks into a smile at this. "Only what we had to, John," she says, reaching out to touch his arm briefly. "And we were glad to do it. But our actions have caused some concerns at the IOA."
Ronon grunts derisively, and John has to agree with him, despite what Elizabeth may want from her military commander, John has never been able to work up the supposedly proper amount of respect for the IOA. Teyla shoots them both a quelling look before continuing. "Needless to say, our mission to rescue you was unauthorised. We had, in fact, been ordered to give up on searching for you completely. The thing is, John, that it wasn't unexpected - we'd been searching for months with no leads whatsoever."
John nods; he can understand that, the need to draw a line at last so that everyone remaining can move forward. "What changed?" he asks.
Ronon lets out a snort of laughter. "Yeah," he says with a grin, "McKay happened."
"Rodney?" John asks, endeavouring to keep his voice steady despite the sudden pounding of his heart.
"Yes, Rodney," Teyla replies. "And that, I think, is the final issue. Rodney."
"He's really something, you know," Ronon says, shaking his head. "For someone who's just a scared scientist. He just wouldn't give up on you - got us together, hatched a kick-ass plan, got you home."
"Your loss hit us all hard, John," Teyla adds. "But Rodney... he suffered more keenly that anyone. John, he cares for you very much."
John swallows thickly. "I know," he says softly, thinking back to the moment he realised that he could hear Rodney's voice from the dark. "I ...I...." he stumbles, searching fruitlessly for the words.
"And I am not sure," Teyla continues, her gaze deadly serious as she meets his. "How well he is coping now that you are back."
It's not until much later, when Teyla and Ronon have left him to his thoughts, when Elizabeth has come and gone, and when he's finally released from the infirmary with strict instructions to rest, that he's finally able to seek out Rodney. Because now, as ever, John Sheppard is a man with a plan.
~*~
Present Day
It's been hours and Rodney still feels lost - groundless, as if he's been cast adrift in a sea of emotions he has no knowledge of how to safely navigate. He doesn't understand himself at all; he's spent the past three months looking for John. He was lost then - in denial, grasping at straws, hopelessly searching for something that his common sense told him could not really exist.
But, it turns out that it did exist; the answer was there, just waiting for him to discover it. And he had - they had, his friends had gathered around him, put their trust in him and, with their help, John had been found. Alive and whole and finally home.
So why isn't Rodney happy? Or relieved? Or... anything? He sighs and shakes his head, pushing himself to his feet and making his way across his quarters to stare sightlessly out of the window. But maybe those aren't the right questions, because he does feel all those things and many more besides. It's more like he feels too much - like the emotions inside him are battling each other for dominance and, in the interim, he's left without any.
So perhaps the right question is not how does he feel, but what is he doing? Why is he hiding here in his quarters instead of sitting in the infirmary at John's bedside, waiting with the rest of his team for him to wake up? Rodney straightens as he asks himself that question, because this is one question to which he knows the answer. Because the answer is both staggeringly simple and amazingly complex.
He's here because he doesn't want to be there.
It had almost been too much in the jumper bay; all those people clustering around John, touching him, hugging him, welcoming him home. Rodney had been only too glad to escape the melee and take John down to the infirmary with Teyla and Ronon. He'd felt a return to near normal as the four of them had crowded into the transporter, John leaning into him, his hand curling around the nape of Rodney's neck and Rodney's arm wrapped tightly around John's waist. But then they'd arrived at the infirmary and Rodney'd had to let John go, had no choice but to hand him over to the medical staff and allow Teyla to usher him back up the tower to meet with Elizabeth.
He'd escaped as soon as he was able, many hours later of course, and headed immediately down to the quiet of his quarters. Teyla and Ronon had cornered him in the corridor before he'd reached his goal and tried to convince him to come with them to the infirmary, but something inside Rodney had clenched up at the mere thought doing so. So he'd refused, waved them off and ran away. He knows he won't be allowed to hide for long; Teyla had that determined look on her face as she'd listened to his excuses, but he's managed it for now. He'll take what he can get.
It had all happened so fast, the thing with John. One moment John was Rodney's best friend and then the next he was... something else... something more. And then he was gone.
John's loss had affected Rodney more than he would ever have thought possible. He remembers how crushed he'd felt when they'd all thought John had died in the nuclear explosion Rodney himself had created and then how utterly elated he'd been when John's voice came through the comms from the Daedulus. What he'd experienced then was nothing when compared to the soul-crushing agony he'd felt when John had disappeared on Catara and continued to be lost for months afterwards. It had, to put it simply, been too much and Rodney'd had no choice but to lock up his emotions or face going mad with grief. Instead, he'd been able to channel his not inconsiderable energies into the search - his commitment to his work growing as his true feelings for John continued to be suppressed.
But ever since the plan had been put into action, his feelings had started to slip free. The insidious trickle of hope first of all, followed swiftly by a touch of fear and a fair amount of resolve. As the mission had proceeded, he'd cycled through worry and into anger. These contrasted sharply with utter relief and ecstatic joy. And then it had all come to a head with a growing flood of want, need and, strongest of all, love.
So Rodney had fled. Because he just can't sit back and watch while John interacts with everyone else - letting himself touch and be touched, smile and laugh and talk. It's too much for Rodney to bear, because he wants John to be his not theirs.
It's a sobering thought and one he's now aware he's been forestalling for many months. It's not something with which he could have coped when John was gone and now... well, he's not sure it's something he can cope with now either.
Just then his thoughts are interrupted by the chime of his door. He rolls his eyes as he strides over to open it, prepared to meet Teyla's implacable gaze on the other side. He's greeted by hazel eyes and messy hair instead; he immediately takes a few steps back, totally unprepared.
"Rodney?" John asks, stepping cautiously into the room. "Hey, I was... well, I was wondering how you were doing."
"What are you doing here?" is all Rodney can think of to say.
John laughs. "Well, they finally set me free from the infirmary and I..." he pauses, bringing up a hand to rub the back of his neck. "Well, I wanted to come see you."
Rodney swallows and takes a deep breath. "Why?"
A fond look crosses John's features at the question. "Because," he replies, taking a step towards Rodney, "I wanted to."
Rodney shakes his head in denial, taking a step backwards and lifting a hand involuntarily to ward John off. "No," he says. "No."
"No?" John repeats, his brow furrowed in confusion. "I don't understand." He shakes his head and then his expression softens as he takes another step towards Rodney. "Rodney, I-"
"I said no," Rodney interrupts almost desperately. "I... I just can't, alright? Please, John, just leave it."
But John just shakes his head, reaching out for Rodney again. His hand brushes lightly against Rodney's cheek and Rodney jumps back as if scalded.
"No!" he shouts, suddenly furious. "Don't you get it? I want you to go; just get out!" He flings a hand towards his door, willing John to leave before he falls completely to pieces.
John stays.
Rodney closes his eyes and lets out a long huff of air. "You just don't get it, do you?" he asks, somewhat calmer, opening his eyes to regard John as steadily as he is able. "I mean, do you have any idea what it was like when you were gone? What it felt like to know you were missing? How it damn near destroyed me to think that you might be dead?" He's almost shouting again now, his breathing hard and harsh, his body tight as the pain he's kept contained for so long finally comes bursting to the fore.
"No, Rodney," John replies softly. "I don't know, tell me."
"I couldn't bear it, John!" he shouts in response. "You were gone and I... I just couldn't..." He breaks off as he hears his voice crack and feels the hot burn of tears in his eyes. He turns away, bowing his head in shame.
"I don't know what it was like for you," John says. "But I know what it was like for me. I know that I was lost; that I didn't know anything - not who I was or what was happening to me - I only knew the darkness and the silence and the pain. That was my whole life, Rodney. It was all I knew, all there was... until you came for me. You changed that - the pain stopped, my memories returned and, Rodney, I heard your voice."
As Rodney listens to John's words, he feels the hope flutter up inside him again -- maybe this can work after all... Maybe he and John can-- But, no, it can't, they can't. No matter what John might say now, it would never last. Somehow or other, it would ultimately end and Rodney now knows that he simply isn't strong enough to go through that again.
"It doesn't matter," he says, keeping his back to John. "It's too hard - I can't go through that all again, John... I just can't."
Suddenly he feels strong arms close around him from behind, holding him firmly as John's voice sounds low in his ear. "But, Rodney, isn't what we have together - everything - worth it?"
Rodney shudders in helpless reaction. He can feel the warmth and strength of John's body pressed so tightly against his own. It's so welcome, so very necessary, that he finds himself leaning back into John's embrace without any conscious thought.
"Rodney," John says again, speaking directly into Rodney's ear, his hot puffs of breath sending shivers racing down Rodney's spine. "Isn't it?"
Rodney's knees threaten to buckle as John's hands start to move over his chest, stroking firmly over his pecs and moving to brush over his nipples. He hisses in reaction, his body moving with John's caresses, his chest pushing forward into John's hands as his ass thrusts back into the cradle of John's hips. He moans softly as he feels the hard ridge of John's erection between his cheeks and the answering movement of John's hips as John starts to grind himself slowly against Rodney's body. In his pants, Rodney's own cock, already half-hard, pulses quickly to full erection.
Suddenly, John moves away and Rodney has to move fast to stop himself for falling backwards now that he is no longer being supported. Before he can think about what he's doing, he turns to face John, a question on his lips.
"What? Why did you...?" His words die as he registers the look on John's face.
"I know what I want, Rodney," John says, his eyes dark with serious intent. "But you have to be sure too."
This dampens Rodney's arousal slightly as his lust-glazed brain slowly cranks back into action. He tilts his head to one side as he considers John's words and the solemn tone with which they are said. "I... I..."
"You have to be sure," John says again.
Rodney freezes as yet another rush of emotion floods through him. John's gaze drops to the floor and he then looks away with self-conscious laugh. "Well, I guess that answers that," he mutters to himself. "I'll see you round then, Rodney," he says as he turns to go, still avoiding Rodney's eye.
"No!" Rodney shouts, his volition returning. He hadn't realised - it hadn't occurred to him until just now, when John turned away from him - that he can still lose John. That even if John is still on Atlantis, if Rodney lets him go now, he will be lost to Rodney forever. That is simply not acceptable.
"No, don't go..." he says again as John pauses at his door, one hand already outstretched to swipe over the opening mechanism. "John, I am sure. I didn't... I didn't realise that I... well, that I want this too - want you." Now it's his turn to approach John, reaching out to take John in his and hold him close. "All those people earlier... I couldn't... I just felt too much - I didn't know how to react. I wanted you to myself and I just..." He knows he's babbling, but he needs to explain, has to let John know just how much he needs him.
He feels it when John finally registers his words - the sudden relaxation in John's body and his exhalation of relief. He turns in Rodney's arms so they're now standing face to face. "Oh, thank god," he says.
And then they're kissing. It's hot and needy and so damn good Rodney can't believe that he almost threw this away. God, it's perfect. John's mouth feels so utterly right against his own and Rodney has to have more of him. He opens his mouth wider, thrusting his tongue even deeper into John, needing to get as close to the man as is physically possible. In his arms, John feels just as desperate, his arms wrapped tightly around Rodney's shoulders as he pulls Rodney even closer to him. Rodney responds in kind, pushing John backwards so that his back is pressed up against the door and thrusting his thigh between John's legs.
John growls into Rodney's mouth in appreciation of their new position and starts grinding himself against Rodney's thigh. The sensation of John working his cock against Rodney's body sends a sharp bolt of arousal straight to Rodney's dick and he starts grinding himself into John's hip in return. They lose themselves for long minutes as they rub against each other, mouths still joined as they move against each other in tandem. It isn't until John's hands slip under the bottom of Rodney' shirt to slide up his back that it occurs to Rodney that he can have more of John.
John makes a soft groan of protest as Rodney pulls himself away from him, his hand tightening around Rodney to pull him back. He does, however, get with the programme when Rodney moves his hands to the bottom of John's t-shirt and starts to pull it up. They both surge into action then and it becomes something of a race to see who can strip who faster. It turns out that they're both winners when John pulls Rodney back to him and, this time, they're naked in each other's arms.
Rodney lets out a moan of pleasure as their erections meet. John answers in kind, thrusting his tongue into Rodney's mouth for a deep kiss as he reaches down between their bodies to squeeze their cocks together. But, as amazing as it feels to slide his dick alongside John's, Rodney wants more. Folding his hands around John's shoulders, Rodney pulls him away from the wall and then towards his bed. He stumbles a couple of times, partly because John still has his hand around Rodney's dick, pumping him slowly, and partly because of the piles of crap that still are scattered throughout his quarters. He really needs to clear up, but later - John's thumb swipes over the tip of Rodney's leaking erection and Rodney gasps - much later.
They make it without further incident to Rodney's bed which is, thankfully, clutter free. John releases his grip on Rodney's cock and Rodney collapses down onto the bed with a thud, spreading his arms and legs wide in invitation. John stands over him, looking down at Rodney with eyes dark with lust. When John licks his lips, Rodney finds himself reaching down between his legs to wrap his fist around his cock, pulling on it languidly as John's eyes darken still further. Rodney's eyes trace down over John's body, taking in the firm planes of his chest, his peaked nipples only just visible through his whorls of dark hair. Rodney winces a bit in sympathy as he takes in the evidence of John's time stuck in the casket - the patches of red skin which are still slightly inflamed - but is soon distracted by John's body once more. His belly is taut and flat, the strong muscles of his lateral obliques clearly visible and Rodney's gaze is drawn down them to where John's cock is standing, flushed dark and leaking. Rodney's hand moves in harder strokes down his own cock at the sight and he has to have more.
"John," Rodney says, his eyes moving back up to John's lust-slack face, reaching his free hand out in entreaty.
John's response is instant, before Rodney has time to blink; John is on the bed on him, his elbows braced on either side of Rodney's chest as he hovers over Rodney. Moving slowly, John leans down and brushes his mouth softly over Rodney's. Rodney's lips part at once and John takes what he offers, covering his lips more firmly and plunging his tongue in deep.
As they kiss, John slowly lowers his body on to Rodney's, settling his groin into the cradle of Rodney's hips. Rodney bucks up at the contact, his dick sliding wetly alongside John's, their pre-com easing the rub to a delicious friction. But Rodney wants more still - he needs more, needs to feel all of John deep inside him.
Canting his hips, Rodney manages to get John's cock to slide down the crease of his ass during their next thrust. John freezes immediately, pulling back from their kiss to stare down at Rodney with his eyes wide. Rodney nods in answer to his unspoken query and John groans, bending back down to kiss Rodney thoroughly, his tongue thrusting in and out of Rodney's mouth in a decidedly suggestive manner.
They're both panting hard when John pulls back and starts to move down Rodney's body, pausing for long moments to press sucking kisses down Rodney's neck and along his collar bone, to tongue and suck at his nipples and to dip into the deep well of his navel. When he's positioned between Rodney's spread thighs, he looks up at Rodney and raises an eyebrow. Rodney reaches out to snag a bottle of lube and a condom from his bedside cabinet, handing both over to John. As he draws his hand back, John catches hold of his wrist and places a soft kiss to his palm.
Rodney relaxes back on the bed as John gently prepares him. He lavishes attention to Rodney's cock first of all, pressing soft kisses down one side before pausing at the base and then slowly dragging the flat of his tongue up its entire length, pausing at the top to look up at Rodney as he flicks the very tip of his tongue teasingly across the slit. Rodney groans aloud at the sensation and the sight of John sucking his cock. When John opens his mouth wide, wrapping his lips around the head of Rodney's cock, Rodney feels his lubed fingers trail down between his cheeks of his ass to circle his hole. John swallows him down to the root as he gently presses his finger deep into Rodney's body.
Rodney is lost to sensation - the hot wet pull of John's mouth, the heady burn of John's fingers as they stretched him open, the pain gradually merging with a deep pleasure as he's coaxed wide open, hungry and begging for John's cock. When John pulls his fingers free, Rodney forces his eyes open so he can watch John fumble on the condom and slather lube down his length.
"Ready?" John asks.
"More than," Rodney replies, lifting his legs up to his chest, spreading himself open for John.
John's breath catches at the sight, but his eyes are alight as he looks back up to Rodney's face. "That's my Rodney," he says fondly, reaching out to brace Rodney's legs on his shoulders.
The position is awkward at first, but any thoughts of that disappear completely as Rodney feels the snub head of John's cock at his hole, gasping slightly as it slowly breaches his body. He breathes deeply, concentrating on relaxing his muscles and on the look of wonder on John's face as he enters him fully. John pauses once he's buried as deep inside Rodney as he can go, bending down to kiss Rodney. Rodney kisses him back - pleasure and pain and relief and love all coalescing inside him. It makes it finally real, having John buried so deep inside him and looking at him with such love - John is home.
Everything is then lost to the pleasure of John thrusting into him, over and over again. John's strokes are hard and even, filling Rodney perfectly with every thrust. He tries various angles before Rodney feels the sharp starburst of pleasure, arching up with a near-scream as John hits his prostate. John grunts in response and speeds up, nailing Rodney's prostate with every thrust, fucking Rodney so perfectly that Rodney knows he's not going to be able to hold off much longer. He locks his feet together in the small of John's back and does his best to move with John.
As if reading his mind, John gasps out, "God, Rodney, so fucking good... so close - touch yourself."
Rodney has no sooner reached down and wrapped his fingers around his cock, then he's coming, spurting thickly all over belly, his ass clenching tightly around John's cock as John continues to thrust into him. John's moan echoes Rodney's as he fucks forward into Rodney a few more times, then he too is throwing his head back, his hips stuttering uncontrollably and Rodney feels the warm pulse of his release deep in his ass through the fading pleasure of his own orgasm.
He's still floating in the aftermath as John pulls back and his now softened cock slips wetly from Rodney's body. John helps him to straighten out his legs before reaching up to kiss him deeply. It's a soft kiss, deep and happy and full of love. John pulls back, smiling and rolls, with enviable grace, out of the bed and pads over to the bathroom. Rodney watches him go with a sleepy gaze that doesn't stop him from enjoying how John's trademark swagger shows off his assets. He hears the sound of water running and is unsurprised when John reappears a few minutes later, towel in hand. After gently cleaning Rodney off, John returns to the bed and wraps himself around Rodney, his chest warm against Rodney's back and his arm a comforting weight across Rodney's middle.
"You don't have to share me, you know, Rodney. I'm with you," John whispers, his voice coming in soft gusts of breath against Rodney's nape. "No matter what happens, I'm not planning on going anywhere."
Rodney's eyes squeeze closed as joy illuminates him from within. "Me either," he replies softly, snuggling back into John's embrace. He knows, of course, that he does have to share John, but, lying sated in John's arms, he finds that he's actually okay with that. It is enough to have this now, because he knows that he will always have had it, even if the unthinkable were someday to really happen. In an uncertain galaxy in dangerous times, happiness is not something to be treated lightly, rather it is something to be cherished.
"Whatever happens," he pledges in return, "I'm with you."
~fin~
'I hold it true, what're befall;
I feel it when I sorrow most;
'Tis better to have loved and lost;
Than to have never loved at all.'
Extract from Canto 27 of In Memoriam A.H.H., a stunningly beautiful poem about love and loss, friendship and faith by Alfred Lord Tennyson.
