STARGATE ATLANTIS: Allegiance(Book three in the Legacy series)

by Scott, Melissa

  “Then I’m not sure we can agree to your presence,” Radim said.

  William barely stopped himself from rolling his eyes. It was obvious what Radim was trying to do, derail the talks before they could get started, and equally obvious that these weren’t serious protests. Under cover of the rising voices, he leaned forward to speak in Radek’s ear.

  “What’s the Satedan Band?”

  Radek shrugged, and to William’s surprise, Teyla glanced over her shoulder. “They are a famous elite unit among the Satedans, oath-bound to each other and to their service.”

  William lifted his own eyebrows at that, wondering if he was reading in more than was intended, and Sheppard tapped on the table.

  “OK. Then Colonel Yan stays.”

  “This speaks to the basic question under discussion,” Radim said. “Sateda was abandoned — with good cause, no world Culled as deeply as Sateda was can survive. Her people scattered and found new lives. Colonel Yan is an excellent example of this, and he himself says he’s not returning. Sateda as we knew it is no more. Now we are — as Colonel Sheppard, and indeed everyone, is aware — in need of every scrap of Ancient technology that we can salvage to try to make some stand against Queen Death. A group of scavengers squatting in the wreckage — who cannot even use the technology they’re denying to others — is not Sateda.”

  “We are Sateda,” Cai said. “This is our world, our home. Neither the Genii nor anyone else have any right to our resources.”

  “You can’t use what you have,” Telez blurted.

  “Then why not trade for it?” Sheppard asked. “It seems to me you’ve both got some opportunities here — ”

  “Meaning no offense,” Radim said, in the tone that meant precisely the opposite, “but I see no reason we should withdraw and leave Atlantis in charge.”

  “We’re here to trade,” Sheppard said, firmly. “And no offense taken.”

  “That’s what they all say.”

  William couldn’t see who had said that, but there was a murmur of laughter from among the Genii. It was going to be a very long day.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Diplomacy

  The sun was setting behind the broken roofs, sending long shadows across the gate square. The last of the light shimmered on the top of the gate, the naquadah gleaming as though it were oiled or wet, the shadow of the ring stretching out behind it. Cai’s people were setting up trestles, laying out food and drink they’d gotten from somewhere, and John frowned, trying to think what was wrong. Or, no, not wrong, but missing. Because there was an absence, something that should be there… Children, he realized abruptly. On almost every other world he’d visited, when the party began, the food came out and the torches were lit, there would be children in the background, either helping, or watching with excitement to see the latest travelers from another world. That was the thing he still couldn’t get his mind around — well, yes, his mind, but not his heart, not the bone-deep certainty that anyone at all could open the Stargate and walk to another world. That Sateda might be destroyed, her cities burned, but her people could find refuge, and a way home again. Not like Afghanistan…

  He shied away from that thought, and saw Teyla give him a curious look. She did not comment, however, merely held out a wide-mouthed cup. He took it, sniffing warily, but it smelled only of smoke and herbs.

  “Dr. Lynn says he believes it to contain something like caffeine,” Teyla said.

  “Yeah?” John took a careful sip, decided it tasted a little bit like lemons and mint. And smoke, which was disconcerting. “You know, I don’t remember including him in this.”

  Teyla smiled. “He says this is his job.”

  John smiled back, took another sip of the — he supposed it was a tea. “It’s not going to replace coffee,” he said. He looked back at the tables, where the Marines were hauling lamps into place, and Radek was tinkering with the generator: Atlantis’s contribution to the party, light and pole heaters for the chill ahead. “How do you think it’s going?”

  Teyla’s smile widened. “It is… going. This will take time, and I do not believe that Ladon Radim wishes it to be settled quickly.”

  “Not so much,” John said. He glanced over his shoulder, checking the rest of the Atlantis team. One of the Satedans had come over to look at the generator, and he and Radek were talking now, gesturing as though they were sketching plans on the air. Ronon was talking to Cai and one of the Satedan Band — not Yan, a younger, more lightly built man with crooked teeth and a wide smile. Caldwell, stiff-backed and poker-faced, was listening to Sar and one of the other Genii officers, and Dahlia Radim was talking to Sora. Hopefully telling her to be sensible, John thought, but knew better than to believe it. “It’s not exactly to his advantage.”

  “No…” Teyla’s expression changed, and John turned, not surprised to see Radim approaching, the blond aide Ambrus at his heels.

  “Chief Ladon.”

  “Colonel Sheppard.” Radim gave a thin, unfriendly smile. “I am sorry Mr. Woolsey is unable to be with us. When will he be back, can you say?”

  “I’m afraid I can’t,” John said, with a smile of his own. From Teyla’s lifted eyebrow, he guessed it hadn’t been successful. “The situation was fluid. But he left me with full authority.”

  “I’m sure he did,” Radim said.

  He thinks I killed him. John felt his mouth drop open, closed it sharply. Son of a bitch. That was about the last thing he’d expected, and it annoyed him more than he would have imagined. “How’s it going with Avenger?” he asked, and Radim frowned.

  “Avenger? Oh. We’ve renamed her Pride of the Genii.”

  “Her name’s Avenger,” John said. It was unreasonable to be angry about that, but the Ancient warship he’d rescued for them had had a name, and a personality: a sweet ship, willing, glad to be awakened. He had liked her a lot. “How is the project coming?”

  “We’re making progress,” Radim said, stiffly. “And it would be going faster if we were free to make use of the technology abandoned here.”

  John could see Teyla looking at him as though she would like to kick him, and forced another smile. “Well, that’s what we’re here to work out.”

  “Both your people and mine need what’s here,” Radim said. “You can’t seriously mean to maintain that this is a viable government. Fifty people — at the most — squatting in the ruins, bringing in supplies from off-world.” He shook his head. “And if the Wraith come, what happens then?”

  “They will hide,” Teyla said. “As we have all done before.”

  “And what’s the chance that the Wraith would finish the destruction they started?” Radim asked. “This wasn’t Queen Death. She would leave nothing behind. Surely you don’t mean to risk losing everything that’s here.”

  “And what, exactly, are you looking for?” John asked. Radim had a point, that was part of the problem.

  “The same things you are, I imagine,” Radim said. “Ronon will have told you that there was an important collection of Ancient artifacts in their museum, and among that collection were things that we could use on our warship. Crystals, for one thing, and tools we don’t know how to make. I am sure there are things Atlantis needs as well.”

  Things you can’t make, his tone implied. John said, “Yeah, plenty of things we can use. And we’re happy to trade for them. It seems to me it would be to your advantage to do the same.”

  “And if we agree to trade with Cai, do we also pay extortion to the next group of returning Satedans who set up a so-called government?” Radim shook his head. “And the one after that? Because, to speak frankly, I can’t see you wasting the manpower to shore up Cai’s authority.”

  “Right now, the only people who are questioning his authority are the Genii,” John said. “Really, we wouldn’t want to have to break off relations over this.”

  “I don’t think you could afford that,” Radim answered. “Not given the threat we are both facing.”

  “I’m seri
ously hoping it won’t come to that,” John said. “Excuse me.”

  He turned away, Teyla at his side, and nearly ran into Caldwell beside the meeting tent.

  “Any progress?” Caldwell asked.

  John took a careful breath. “Well. I think I’ve made our position clear.” He paused, but couldn’t quite stop himself. “That little bastard thinks I murdered Woolsey to take his place.”

  To his surprise, Caldwell grinned. “Tell me you never thought about it, Sheppard.”

  “Not to get this job,” John answered. Teyla was smirking, though, and he couldn’t help smiling himself, even as he shook his head. “Diplomacy.”

  “Don’t knock it,” Caldwell said. “You might have a knack for it after all.”

  Sora ducked out of the meeting tent and made her way toward one of the long tables laden down with food. There was little point in staying inside at the moment. Sheppard didn’t seem to be making any effort to get everybody back to the table rather than letting them gather in little groups spread across the square, and the conversation in the tent at the moment bore little relation to what was supposed to be the point.

  She spotted Cai at the end of one of the tables, apparently setting out bottles of some kind of drink as if he had nothing better to do. She shook her head. As if alcohol was going to help anyone to keep their minds on business. But then that was Sateda. If they’d devoted more of their people’s energies to fighting the Wraith rather than to distractions, clothing and music and games, all the absurd little luxuries she kept finding in the ruins —

  “Sora Tyrus,” Cai said when he saw her. She wasn’t sure if his nod in her direction was meant as a courtesy or simply an acknowledgement that he knew who she was. “Will you have a drink, then? We’ve found more liquor bottles than we expected intact, but it’s still in scarce supply for the moment.”

  “I’m surprised you’re not relying on the Lanteans for your supplies,” Sora said. She waved away the cup he offered her.

  “We haven’t yet,” Cai said. “You’re sure you won’t have a drink?”

  “You’re just relying on them for protection.”

  “Something the Genii haven’t offered. So far I can’t see that you’ve offered anything, except on entirely unacceptable terms,” Cai said, fairly mildly.

  “Believe me, the Lanteans’ terms won’t stay so pretty,” Sora said. “Don’t make the mistake of believing they can be trusted.” She glanced across the square to where Teyla Emmagan was talking intently to Dahlia Radim with a false smile, no doubt making excuses for having taken Dahlia prisoner and tried to steal their Ancient warship. As if there were any to make other than we wanted it, so we thought it should be ours.

  Sora wished she were close enough to make sure that Dahlia wasn’t fooled. She’d had more than enough experience with Teyla’s ability to spin pretty words until you found yourself losing track of your original purpose, starting to have doubts —

  “The Lanteans defeated the Replicators,” Cai said. “And they’ve done much to fight the Wraith in the last years.”

  “So have we,” Sora said. “And we haven’t laid waste to the galaxy in the process. It was the Lanteans who unleashed the Replicators in the first place, and who woke the Wraith. Before they came — ”

  “Sateda fell before the Lanteans came,” Cai said flatly. “They’re not responsible for the Wraith doing what Wraith do.”

  “And are you happy that so many worlds have now met the same fate? The Lanteans don’t know how to defeat the Wraith. All they’ve done is make things worse and interfere with our plans.”

  “And your plans involve Sateda?”

  “We are so close to being able to use the technology of the Ancestors,” Sora said. “To have their weapons in our own hands, not the hands of the Lanteans who claim to be here to protect us. Why should they care about any of us? They’re here for their own purposes. They want what’s in that museum, too.”

  Cai picked up one of the cups and drank deeply before he answered. “No offense,” he said. “But if our choice is to be robbed of our treasures by the Genii or to sell them to the Lanteans, I would prefer to deal with the Lanteans. At least they didn’t come as robbers demanding we hand over our wallets.”

  “More like vandals setting your house on fire,” Sora said. “Did you hear about the Travellers’ colony, the one destroyed in a moment when their gate exploded? It wasn’t the only world where that happened.”

  “Wild rumors,” Cai said. “People hear of many things that aren’t true. If worlds have had their gates destroyed, there’s no need to go looking for a cause other than the obvious. The Wraith Cull more deeply every year.”

  Sora gritted her teeth. She’d heard this too many times on too many worlds, people who blindly believed that the Lanteans could help them, save them, when how could they, and why should they? It was pure superstition; the Lanteans’ blind luck in stumbling on the city of the Ancestors and having it answer to them wasn’t a sign of either military genius or purity of heart. But try to tell a people like the Athosians, or what was left of them.

  “The Wraith can’t destroy a Stargate,” she said.

  Cai shook his head. “Because your people can’t? I hope you’re not looking for a convenient Stargate to experiment with, or a place to try out your — what are they called — ‘nuclear bombs’?”

  “I’m not going to talk to you about our weapons testing program. But we’re aware of how valuable some of the things in this city are. If you just let us use them — ”

  “Now you want to make a trade? I’m sorry if I’m skeptical of your good intentions after you came among us with your rifles in hand.”

  “I’m not offering to trade,” Sora said. “I’m saying that it’s in the best interests of your people and of every human being to let us have all the weapons we can find to fight the Wraith, because it’s not as if you can use them anymore.”

  “There will be a Satedan army again,” Cai said.

  “Who? Your army won’t even come live in your settlement. Your great ‘hero’ Ronon is more a Lantean now than a Satedan — ”

  “All of our people are Satedan,” Cai said. “Those of us who have returned, and those of us who never will. If you can’t understand that, you don’t understand very much about us.”

  “I don’t need to understand much about you,” Sora said.

  Cai shook his head at her. “I can see that you’ve never been a trader,” he said. “You may find when you don’t get what you want by demanding it that you change your mind about that. Please enjoy our hospitality, if any of it suits you. I have other people I need to talk to.”

  Sora watched him go, trying not to feel that she’d handled that badly. If she’d made up to him, been soft and apologetic the way Dahlia wanted her to, he’d never have believed her. At least she’d tried honesty, not that it seemed to be worth much.

  She hesitated, and then reached for one of the cups on the table. She was beginning to feel like a drink wouldn’t be a bad idea.

  By the time it seemed possible for John to get enough people back into the conference tent to formally adjourn the meeting for the evening, there didn’t seem to be much point. The Genii had set up tents of their own, provoking glares but not arguments from the Satedans, and everyone was making serious inroads on the food and drink. Cai’s people had brought out oil lamps, and some of the open windows around the square cast more lamplight into the street.

  Darkness softened the jagged shapes of the buildings against the sky, but it made the square seem like a fragile oasis of light in a big, dark desert. There were no distant lights at the outskirts of town, no moving headlights or lit lamps beyond the square. Just a big, dark ruin, empty of people the way no city on Earth stayed empty for long, no matter how bad the damage had been.

  The square was anything but empty, though, and anything but quiet. Radim was talking intently to Teyla, who looked like her patience was being tested by whatever he was saying, although her polite smi
le didn’t fade. Across the square, Ronon was apparently introducing Dahlia Radim to a Satedan woman who John thought he remembered as one of Cai’s engineers. A good move, but he could probably use Radek, who would have more idea what they were talking about.

  John looked around for him, and found him on the fringes of the crowd with a cup of whatever liquor Cai had broken out for the occasion in hand. There were still cups of the smoky tea set out, but they’d gone cold, and most people seemed to have moved on to the heavy drinking portion of the evening. That might be a good thing, or really not, but he expected they’d find out which.

  “I think Ronon’s trying to get Dalia Radim and some of Cai’s people to bond over science,” John said. “He could maybe use some backup in that department.”

  “Right,” Radek said resignedly, draining the cup and setting it down. “Is there any sign that we’re getting anywhere?”

  “At least they’re talking,” John said. “We’re going to have to sit down again in the morning and see if anybody’s willing to bend at all, but maybe if they can start seeing each other as people, it’ll make them a little more sympathetic to each other’s problems.”

  “Yes, that is a theory,” Radek said. He sounded as skeptical as John felt.

  John ran a hand through his hair. He was pretty sure that by this point Elizabeth would have come up with some creative solution to the problem and figured out how to bully everyone into accepting it. Woolsey would have kept everyone at the conference table, on the theory that fatigue and boredom would eventually motivate them to actually negotiate. In hindsight, that might have been the way to go.

  “Or maybe they’re just going to grandstand at each other, but at least right now they’re talking and not fighting,” he said. As he said it, he wondered if that was true; he could hear rising voices, and when he looked up, one edge of the crowd seemed to be turning into a pitched argument between some of the Genii officers and what looked like about half of Yan’s Satedan Band, with Caldwell in the middle of it trying to make sure they stayed bodily separated.