"He did. I will apply it to the 418 records." She bent over her computer again.
For a few minutes, the only sounds in the lab were the metallic taps of Radek's hammer and the repetitive keystrokes of Kendall and Miko. Though the silence was not atypical, today it felt bleaker than usual. Expedition morale tended to ebb and flow with often-changing circumstances, and lately it had been slipping lower. Researchers were frustrated at making little progress, the Marines continued to lose comrades, and the constant low-level danger of a Wraith attack was now partnered with the equally-worrying threat of a replicator incursion.
"Wakarimasen," murmured Miko, causing Radek to glance up from his tools. "This does not make sense."
"What is it?"
"The reference to 418's orbital gate was affected by the translation patch."
Radek set aside his work and walked over to stand at her shoulder. "We read earlier that the gate was damaged in the battle. Is that incorrect?"
"No, it was indeed damaged. However, there are more supplemental records linked to this location than I realized. Also..." She pointed to a symbol on the screen. "I have not seen that before. Have you?"
He had, though it took him a few seconds to recall where. Just once, nearly two years ago. If it represented what he thought it did-
"Upload the amended file to the city network," he instructed her, already heading for the door. "Colonel Sheppard needs to know about this. Immediately."
Disorientation lingered long after Teyla regained consciousness. When she opened her eyes to find herself lying on unfamiliar ground, she could not identify her last memory. Firing on the raiders outside the Hall? No-there had been something after that. The hunting party. She felt blurry and vague as she struggled to sit up.
The skewed, half-hidden Stargate was once again within her view, perplexing her. Hadn't they traveled a great distance from the gate?
A few feet away, Ronon dragged himself to one knee. Swaying a bit, he glowered at something behind her. "You," he snarled.
"Don't take it personally. You were a surprise to us as well."
She had heard that voice before. Slowly, because her body seemed reluctant to obey her wishes, she shifted to look.
The lead raider stood over her, holding both his gun and Ronon's. Hers had been appropriated by one of the other raiders beside him. The ship that had provided their escape from P7L-418 sat a short distance away. Their tailored, eclectic clothing and impressive array of personal weapons, likely procured by preying on people like Ilar's, turned her stomach.
"The hunters," said Ronon. "What did you do to them?"
"Stunned them and left them be. There's no money to be made from peladon skins." The leader shrugged, displaying a toothy smile. "You're much more interesting."
Teyla climbed to her feet, unwilling to show weakness in front of these criminals. "We have nothing of value to you.
"Maybe, maybe not." His gaze swept over her, and she fought not to react. "You're not from this world."
Ronon snorted. "You should know. We were dumped here because of you."
The leader cocked his head, as if the remark was unexpected. After a moment, he lowered his weapon. His companions did not do the same. "I'm Sekal. My men and I are in the trading business."
"Stealing, you mean."
"The two are often related, I'll admit. Some prices are more reasonable than others." Sekal appeared unbothered, examining Ronon's gun with a critical eye. "Although we typically operate in this system and its neighbors, we're always looking for new planets to visit-new opportunities, if you will. You may have little of value now, but we saw the equipment your friends carried. I think an arrangement can be made."
Still trying to shake off the effects of the stun, Teyla attempted to grasp his meaning. What did he want from them? "How do you suggest we contact our friends?" she questioned, acid in her tone. "Even if we wanted to make an `arrangement' with you, we cannot dial the gate."
"Not a problem." Sekal used the gun to gesture at one of his men, who hefted an unwieldy pack on his shoulder. "We bring our own device for that purpose. Makes this gate rather convenient."
"And if we refuse?"
"We would be very... disappointed." There was no need for him to elaborate. His weapons performed the task for him.
Muddled though her thoughts were, she had no intention of allowing this gang any access to Atlantis. Before she could say so, Ronon spoke up.
"You'll get us off this planet if we show you the address of someplace worth going?"
Teyla whirled toward her teammate. Surely he wasn't suggesting-?
Sekal's smile became predatory. "Exactly the deal I had in mind."
"Wait. My friend and I need to confer." She went over to Ronon, ignoring the armed men who surrounded them. If they chose to shoot, they would lose their new `trading' opportunity.
When Ronon bent to place his head close to hers, she whispered urgently in his ear. "You intend to choose another address, I hope?"
"They've got numbers and weapons on us. If we gate to some unoccupied planet, they'll suspect a trick right away.
On that aspect, his reasoning was sound. It did nothing to soothe her unease. What would happen if they allowed Sekal's group into Atlantis? There were security procedures; she was certain of that, but she could not make herself recall them. Her head felt as though a band of steel had tightened around it.
"We can't," she pleaded, lacking any other argument.
"This is our only chance to get through the gate at all," Ronon countered.
"At the risk of endangering our home?"
His eyes slightly unfocused, he stepped back from her and raised his voice. "Fair trade. We get passage off this planet. You get a richer place to plunder."
"A place richer than this back-end planet would not be difficult to find." Sekal crossed his arms. "I expect you to do far better."
As Teyla submitted a silent prayer for forgiveness, Ronon smirked. "Wait until you see where we're going."
The scrambling of various personnel to get out of his path barely registered in Rodney's peripheral vision. He had one clear goal in mind as he strode down the corridor: the removal of a certain lieutenant colonel's head from his rear end.
He had a perfect argument mentally rehearsed, starting with an attention-grabbing entrance to the control room. Unfortunately, Sheppard derailed it by not in fact being in the control room. Swearing under his breath, Rodney caught sight of him sitting in one of the guest chairs in Elizabeth's office, a laptop computer balanced on his knees.
The things I do for the good of this expedition. Barging into the office, Rodney declared, "I can't believe you."
Sheppard paused but didn't look up. "Funny. Usually it's a woman saying that to me."
For a moment, Rodney's indignation was sidetracked by the ergonomic inadequacy of the other man's working conditions. "Why aren't you using the desk?"
"It's not my desk."
"I hardly think you'd be disciplined for usurping the power of a desk, Colonel. Is it still Colonel, or did that end with the oh-so-dramatic surrender of your wings? And who seriously does that?"
The laptop was set aside, and Sheppard rose from his chair with a carefully enforced calm. "Good news travels fast," he observed dryly.
"Apparently not fast enough. I had to hear through the geology department grapevine, of all things, that you're resigning." Rodney crossed his arms. "Just like that, huh? For some reason, I thought that irritating fall-onyour-sword predilection of yours might be reserved for instances of saving the city. What a disappointment to be proved wrong."
"This is about the city," Sheppard replied, sounding entirely too composed for a man tossing his life out the window. Almost as if he'd rehearsed his argument, too. "If I can't do the job-"
"Of course you can do the job. The job, to be militarily coarse, quite often sucks. That is by no measure your fault." It was inconceivable to Rodney that he actually had to explain this. "Do you honestly believe th
at Caldwell or anyone else could do what you do here? No one could have kept every single member of the expedition alive over the past two-plus years. The fact that you think you somehow should have been able to pull it off surpasses even my level of arrogance."
"Rodney-"
But he was hitting his stride and unwilling to let up. "Yes, I got mad about the adarite and about what happened on 418. I get mad when friends die. Would you like a hug?"
Sheppard's eyes narrowed. Finally, a reaction. "Don't flatter yourself. You didn't push me into anything. All you did was identify the reality of the situation. I'm making this call because I think it's the best move for everyone."
"Then you're being a coward, and that's uncharacteristic for you. I've never seen you run from anything real. Don't run from this."
Subtlety had never been listed among Rodney's numerous attributes. He'd gone on the offensive because it seemed like the best available tactic, and now he waited to see if the Colonel would acknowledge his superior judgment or deck him.
Bafflingly, Sheppard did neither. He stood in front of Rodney and met his friend's challenging stare without so much as a blink. "You done, Sigmund?" he asked coolly.
Since Rodney had fully expected that strategy to work, he didn't have a lot of ammunition in reserve. "Hardly."
He got a reprieve when their coms signaled. "Colonel, Rodney," Radek's voice hailed them. "Are either of you on the command level?"
The city's military advisor-until further notice-tapped his earpiece. "Yeah, Rodney and I are having a fun little chat up here. You need something, Radek?"
"New information. Possibly very important." Radek sounded out of breath. "Please stay where you are. I will be there shortly."
"Will do."
Fortunately, Rodney rarely needed much in the way of time to regroup. "Tell me something," he demanded once Sheppard had cut the radio connection. "What will you do? When you get back to Earth and you don't have any of this"-he waved haphazardly at the gate-room beyond the office's glass walls -"to get up for?"
That simple question accomplished more than all his earlier attacks. Sheppard's eyes flicked away, though not before a flash of warring emotions could be seen. He turned to retrieve his computer and answered in a low, weary voice. "I don't know."
As unlikely as it seemed, the idea of no longer being able to trade insults or debate inane movies with Sheppard was distressing. The concept of going on missions without him was alarming. And the very thought of being the last remaining member of the prime off-world team wrenched Rodney's insides.
He couldn't say any of that. Instead, he lifted his chin and spoke in a clipped tone. "Well, we'll all be up the same creek, then, won't we?"
The ensuing silence stretched for a few seconds, finally broken by the activation of the gate. As wavering blue light played over them, Rodney followed Sheppard across the walkway to the control room, where the technician quietly affirmed that the radio was active.
Sheppard leaned forward, bracing his hands on a console. "What have you got for us, Lieutenant?"
"Sir, we've completed orbits along eight different longitudinal lines," reported the pilot of Jumper Three. Rodney couldn't put a name or a face to the solemn voice. "The computer says the sensors have mapped the entire planet, from minimum to maximum altitude at which a gate-sized object could remain in orbit, but we've got nothing."
"What do you mean, nothing?" Rodney demanded. "You can't find the gate?"
"Scans show no sign of either a Stargate or any subcutaneous transmitters," the lieutenant replied. "We already ran the jumper diagnostics. Everything's working."
"If everything was working, we'd know where to find Ronon and Teyla." Sheppard pushed off the console and restlessly circled the room. "Are you sure you swept the whole search area? You must have had to divert around wreckage a few times."
"Yes, sir, but the sensor range is large enough to cover the main debris fields from a safe distance." Though the young officer's voice was composed, it was obvious he didn't like giving his boss bad news. "We've done everything we can, sir. I don't think there's anything out here to find."
That was patently absurd. According to the database records, 418's space gate had been damaged in the battle, not obliterated. Complete destruction of a massive naquadah ring would be no mean feat.
Aware that Sheppard had turned an expectant gaze on him, Rodney offered the only theory he could come up with on short notice. "It's possible the gate is surrounded by a high concentration of wreckage containing some component material that masks the naquadah from the sensors view.
The Colonel's brow furrowed. "What, like there's a bunch of adarite up in orbit, messing with the sensors?"
Rodney spread his hands wide. "I don't see any reason why that would be the case. I just don't have any better explanation at this point. Give me a half-second to think, would you?"
Sheppard glanced down at the gate; a common habit for those speaking to someone on the other end of the wormhole. "Lieutenant, we're going to work on a sensor modification for you. In the meantime, do one more orbit."
"Which orbit do you want repeated, sir?"
"Surprise me. Standby."
"Aye, sir. Jumper Three out."
As the event horizon snapped shut, Rodney rounded on Sheppard. "A sensor modification? For an unknown material identification issue that may or may not exist?"
"You just said-"
"I didn't say it was probable," Rodney maintained, "only that it was possible. It can't be adarite up there, or the sensor diagnostic wouldn't have reported everything as functional. I honestly have no idea why they can't find the gate."
Sheppard raked a frustrated hand through his hair. "All right, plan B. Have you been able to convince the dialing computer to open a wormhole to that gate instead of the ground gate when we dial 418's address?"
"I've isolated the necessary procedure. I haven't had any reason to enact it yet, since we're still using the ground gate at the moment." Rodney might have elaborated further had he not heard rapid footsteps approaching behind him.
"Excuse the interruption." Radek appeared in the control room doorway, looking slightly winded. "I think you will want to see this."
Rodney was starting to wonder if whiplash was in his future. "Now what?"
"Refinements to the database translation algorithm." Radek commandeered a computer terminal and called up a file, fingers moving swiftly over the keys. "Miko applied the new software patch from the linguistics team to the record of the battle for P7L-418. The original program ignored a symbol in the description of the planet's space gate. Here."
Finally, a chance for some answers. Rodney leaned in to study the screen. "That symbol shows up in reference to the orbital defense platform we found two years ago at the edge of this star system. What does it mean in the context of a Stargate?"
"Miko is running the algorithm on the rest of the related records now. It will take time, but..." Radek's hesitation stood out in sharp contrast to his earlier haste.
"What?" Rodney's patience was a rather limited resource. "If you're about to say that there isn't a gate in orbit after all, Jumper Three's already a step ahead of you.
"I am saying," Radek answered soberly, "that the second gate is indeed in orbit-housed within a defense platform."
Sheppard frowned. "A gate on a space station?"
They'd never come across such a thing before, but why not? It was a reasonable explanation for why the recovery team had been unable to detect the gate's presence. A surrounding structure would hide the gate from unwanted visitors, and-
When the implications of this new knowledge worked their way into Rodney's mind, the resulting influx of hope and dread nearly took his legs out from under him. "What if the station is still intact?" he forced himself to ask.
The color fled from Sheppard's features. Clearly he was coming to the same conclusion Rodney had already formed: if the station still existed amid the debris orbiting P7L-418, and if by some fluke of fo
rtune it was still sealed with a breathable atmosphere... "Teyla and Ronon," he breathed. "God."
He spun toward the nearest tech. "Get a MALP ready now. Rodney, work your magic with the dialing computer. We need that space gate." Slapping at his com, he continued, "Contingency team with medical escort to the gate-room ASAP. We've got a potential rescue situation."
The tech scurried off to comply with her orders. Sliding into her chair at the dialing console, Rodney fought back a crushing sense of remorse. If he hadn't stopped Sheppard from charging off on an immediate rescue mission, they might have saved hours, even days their stranded teammates couldn't afford to lose.
Braced for a condemnation, Rodney was surprised when no criticism was forthcoming. Risking a sideways glance, he found Sheppard's gaze burning into the dormant gate. The Colonel was still insistent on shouldering most of the blame himself, no doubt. His decision, his responsibility-all that nonsense. Damn it.
"You know what?" Sheppard said suddenly, an edge of desperation creeping into his voice. "Screw the MALP. Dial the gate. Let's see if we can get `em on the radio while we're assembling our response team."
"A few more seconds, please. This isn't quite like reprogramming your speed-dial back home." As Rodney worked through the override procedure, he tried not to see the grisly possibilities in his mind's eye. They might find Ronon and Teyla, but the odds of finding them alive and well, cooling their heels in a damaged yet perfectly airtight space station, were almost as slim now as they had ever been.
Before he could begin to input the address for 418, the gate lit up of its own accord. He sat back, caught offguard. "Unscheduled off-world activation."
"Shield up," Sheppard ordered. The shimmer of the force field snapped into place at almost the same moment as the event horizon. "It's too early to be Elizabeth checking in, isn't it?"
"Yes." Rodney watched the screen that would show him any transmitted access codes. "No IDC yet. If it was Jumper Three, we'd know it by now."
Seconds passed. The rippling pool remained stubbornly silent.
"This is wasting time." Sheppard clenched a fist at his side. "We need to be dialing 418's space gate-a matter of minutes may make the difference for Ronon and Teyla."
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