Chapter Text
John prided himself on being a laid back guy, never letting anything flap his unflappable personality. Rolling with the punches, if you will. No crushing pessimism and no freaking the fuck out.
Well, that had to end sometime, didn’t it?
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“So you get a promotion and I get a medical discharge?”
Yeah, no, John really didn’t want to get into that, because what the hell was he supposed to say? ‘Sorry about the leg, hope it grows back’? He had the sneaking suspicion that wasn’t going to cut it.
He shifted further back in his chair, hoping that his uncomfortable sprawl gave the impression that he knew what he was doing. Bonus, it gave him time to think through what he was going to say.
And just what did you say to the only other survivor of a mission gone totally FUBAR? He usually just patted his men on the back, made some vague ‘better luck next time’ speech, and hightailed it to the nearest exit. This time, this time it was actually a friend, one of the few true ones he’d had in his life and he told himself sternly to suck it up and apologize. Not that it would do a damn bit of good in the long run.
He sat up and leaned his elbows on his knees, hands and head hanging down. “I’m sorry. I know this wasn’t what you planned on, but if it will make you feel better, I didn’t either.”
“Sir, respectfully?” He waited until John looked him the eyes. Lyle looked pale and drawn, fragile in a way that John had never thought he would see the man. John’s chest restricted painfully as he waited the other man out.
Lyle smiled faintly at the corners of his mouth, “Shut up. You’re terrible at this crap.” He adjusted himself in his hospice bed, sighing with relief when finally found the position he was looking for. “I’m just grateful to be alive.”
“Yeah, I get that.” The guy had almost bled out in John’s arms. They had been deep in the desert, hiding from the Taliban, and John didn’t even want to think about what would have happened if he hadn’t been able to steal that jeep. John kept the coin he found on the floorboards as a good luck charm.
He patted his pocket unconsciously, feeling its outline through the fabric. “You don’t have to call me ‘sir’ anymore. I kind of always hated it anyway.”
“Hey, it’s not official until the paperwork goes through.” Lyle said with a wink, some his old spark returning to his eyes.
“Right,” John looked out the window across the room, trying not to see his failures reflected in Holland’s face, the only living reminder of the failures that still lay buried under the burning sand. He sighed, “What do you plan to do now?”
“Well, when I finally get fitted for that new leg I’m promised, I think I’ll do a marathon.” He tapped his thigh above the bandages, “I’ll have a good chance of winning now that I’m going to be part bionic man.”
John was startled by the laugh that managed to escape. It was the first one he could remember since that mission. It felt good. Freeing. “Yeah, I might want to see that. Drop me a line when that happens.” He got up from the green visitors chair, feeling his back pop, and suppressing a wince. “I got a meeting with some General, something about my next posting.”
“John?” He stopped at the doorway, not turning around. He didn’t want to ruin his improved mood. “Good luck.”
John dug the coin out of his pocket. It glinted in the sunlight streaming in from the window. “I’ve got this, all the luck I’ll ever need.”
He didn’t wait for a response before he left.
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General O’Neill was the craziest motherfucker John had ever met. And that was probably an understatement. Being poked, prodded, and maybe even probed at one point just to get pass the front door of this place was the only thing that kept him in the guy’s office. He shuddered to think what he would have to endure to leave.
He leaned back in his chair, trying to process what he was being told. Aliens. Real aliens. Aliens were real. “What?” No, it was still getting stuck somewhere between his ears and his higher brain functions.
“You heard me, Sheppard, aliens. Real live aliens. Well, some of them are alive anyway.” O’Neill waved it off as if unimportant, and John could feel a headache in his near future. Yeah, his eye was starting to twitch. That was always the first sign.
“My point is, Spaceships.” O'Neill wagged his eyebrows.
John frowned; maybe crazy wasn’t a strong enough word. “Let me get this straight. The government has been exploring other worlds for ten years now, meeting aliens, fighting bad guys, and now you’re going to another galaxy and you want me to lead the military portion of this little sightseeing excursion because one of my ancestors was getting frisky with one of said aliens. Did I hit my head on the way down here?” He ran a hand through his hair, feeling for any bumps.
The man leaning against the wall, Jackson if John remembered correctly, rubbed his eyes under his glasses with one hand, clutching his coffee cup as if it were a life preserver with the other. “I knew I shouldn’t have let you do the talking, Jack.”
O'Neill threw his hands up. “What? We both know this isn’t my strong suit. The stars on my shoulders aren’t there because of my diplomatic skills.”
“Unfortunately, I know that all too well.” He straightened, striding over to sit on the corner of the desk. He crossed his arms. “Look, this is a lot to take in, I know, but it’s true. Jack might seem a little,” he paused searching for the word, “Wacko, I guess,” He ignored O'Neill’s indignant ‘hey’ and continued on blithely, “but this is important. The fate of our planet may just depend on this mission and we want the best and brightest. You were on the short list even before your gene was discovered. You’re piloting skills, combat experience, and black ops training were all leading you here.” His blue eyes danced with humor behind his glasses. “Your PHD didn’t hurt either.”
The General pointed at him, “What he said.”
Before John could open his mouth to refute their claims, sirens started to blare out of the speakers nestled in the corner of the ceiling. It definitely wasn’t helping the ice pick someone had driven through his skull.
The General rose to his feet, quicker than his gray hair would suggest, and sauntered into the adjoining room. “Let’s make this thing a little less tell and a little more show.” He threw over his shoulder on the way by.
Jackson followed and John had no choice but to join them. As he entered the room, he could already see the blast doors rising to reveal the room below.
The sight of the stargate stole his breath. It felt like it was calling to him and as he watched the rippling puddle, several men came running through, gripping their weapons close but smiling as if they had just had the time of their lives.
O'Neill keyed the com, his voice vibrating over the speakers. “A little trouble there, Major?” He asked as the gate whooshed and disappeared, revealing a concrete wall behind it. John tried to wrap his mind around that.
Nope, still not quite getting through.
The man still striding down the ramp paused and looked up to them, smirking. “You know how it is, sir. Accidental marriage, Markus has all the luck.”
The General chuckled, “Did he get cake too?”
The Major slapped the back of the man next to him, causing the taller man to stumble drunkenly. “Nope, ceremonial wine this time.”
“Ooh, even better.” O'Neill waved the Major away, “Well you know the deal. Off to the infirmary with you.”
The Major gave a sketchy salute and followed his men out of room. The general caught John in his stare. “So, well, what?”
John put his hand in his pocket and palmed his lucky coin. “I think you had me at spaceships.”
What the hell? He had a feeling his life was about to get a whole lot more interesting.
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God, he was bored. Bored, bored, and did he mention bored? The shear amount of boredom he was currently wallowing in was going drive him crazy, if it hadn’t already.
He’d spent the last mouth attending classes entitled ‘Shit You Really Need to Know’, ‘How Not to Fuck Up With the Aliens’, and his personal favorite, ‘Shit You Need to Know if You Fuck Up With the Aliens’. John suspected that O'Neill had a hand in naming them. Daniel’s ‘Ancients 101’ was a pretty good one too, even if the General insisted on calling it ‘Those Wacky Ancients, What Will They Think of Next’.
He’d also met with the other leaders of the expedition and to say that they were characters was probably the word he’d use in polite company. In private, he’d call them slightly crazy, but he figured he fit in nicely.
Carson was nice if somewhat obsessed John’s gene. He was kind of a mother hen too, but an all-around good guy. Elizabeth was a little bit more complicated and John didn’t know if he liked her or not. Politics had never been his thing.
The Chief of Science though? That guy was getting on John’s last nerve.
John jumped as a pair of fingers snapped in his face. “Colonel, you must pay attention. We do not want a stray thought to cause explosion. Or, it could eat your head?” Radek looked at him curiously, “You did read that mission report, yes?”
John idly poked the object in front of him, bracing his elbow on the table and his head in his palm. He’d been stuck in Radek’s lab for last three days turning on all the useless things they brought him. Where were his spaceships? John silently mourned the loss of his apparently fictional spaceships. “Why am I here again?” he asked, inwardly denying the whine in his voice.
Radek huffed, his glasses slipping down his nose, “Because the General no longer wants to. That is why.” He absentmindedly pushed his them back into place, “Now you are the only one with gene strong enough, because Carson is too afraid.”
Radek picked up the device, grabbed John’s wrist and slapped it into his hand. It was almost comical the way the guy practically dove behind the table. After a full minute of not being blown up, he peeked over the edge. “What is it?”
John concentrated on it. He didn’t ever think he would get used to the way Ancient technology felt in his hands. His mind lit up with feelings and vague descriptions all clamoring for his attention like a puppies begging to be pet. John felt their loneliness too, like the things knew just how long it had been since someone paid them more than a passing glance. He secretly wanted to pet them all if only to get some peace of mind.
“It’s a teeth whitener.” John said placing back on the table, careful not to caress it too much. “You put it in your mouth, wait ten minutes, and presto, pearly whites.”
Radek’s eyebrows rose to meet his hairline. “Really?”
God the guy was so gullible. “Nope. It’s some type of medical scanner, but it won’t do you any good without the tablet that goes with it.” If trying to fool Radek broke the monotony for even a second, it was worth it. The anti-grav disc that John had told him was a Roomba had been one of his best. Radek was still trying to get the thing to clean his office.
“Oh, I guess that will go into ‘missing pieces’ box.” Radek said, carefully picking it up. “Next one I believe to be cold fusion device or possibly a toaster. I cannot decide.”
John started to pound his head onto the table. He thought he might as well put himself out of his misery if no one else was going to.
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John’s palms were starting to sweat as he walked the hallways of the SGC. Hell, it might be the last time he’d ever walk on Earth again. His P-90 slipped in his grip, and he readjusted it, looking around to see if anyone had noticed.
It was funny- not funny ha ha, but funny in an ironic sense- that he could stare down the barrel of an enemy weapon and be calm and collected, but a little thing like going to another galaxy had him scared shitless.
A little thing. Right.
God, he needed to pull himself together, needed to bitch slap his internal coward and face the facts. He was in charge of these people and they needed him to stay cool.
The funny thing was that everyone he passed seemed to be excited, itching to go through the wormhole and discover the wonders of a new galaxy. Didn’t they realize what could go wrong out there? The things that could happen that he wasn’t going to be able to save them from?
Maybe he had just read too many of SG-1’s mission reports. What was the likelihood of those things happened to them? He shied away from the equations running through his head. They all pointed to ‘not good’.
John saw his 2IC jogging towards him, weaving his way through the people heading to the gate room. John covertly wiped his hands on his BDUs and straightened his shoulders.
“Sir?” John had gotten to know the guy pretty well over the last two months and he honestly couldn’t ask for a better second. The guy had a dry sense of humor that John could appreciate. Plus he was willing to do John’s paperwork, which was always a good thing.
It seemed like everywhere John looked, he saw soldiers that would normally be considered unfit in the military at large. Loyal and tough sure, smart and resourceful, hell yeah, but never by the book, never conforming to the stereotype of a straight laced military man-or woman.
John thought O'Neill liked to keep all the ones that were like him. John knew being too strict could and would get you killed fast out there. You had to be able to look some weird shit in the eyes and just keep on going.
“What’s up, Lorne?”
“Colonel,” The major nodded his greetings. John had put a kibosh on the saluting weeks ago. It just bugged him for some reason, probably his own aversion to authority. “The expedition members are all gathering in the gate room. Dr. Weir wants to make a speech,” He made a face, showing what he thought of that idea, “But the General wants a private word in his office.”
John didn’t know if that was a good thing or an incredibly bad thing. He nodded, “Thanks, Major. I’ll join the rest when we’re done. Dismissed.”
Lorne turned on his heel and headed for the gate room. If he had noticed his CO’s shaky voice, he thankfully didn’t say a word.
John hurried up to O’Neill’s office, where he found the General bouncing a ball of the window of the meeting room. “You wanted to see me, sir?”
“Ah yes. Take a seat, Sheppard.” He let his feet slide off the table to the floor and his ball rolled to the corner, forgotten. “Okay, I’ll be as succinct as possible.”
John slouched down into the seat across from him. A minute passed with them staring at each other. “Well, that was pretty succinct.”
“I’m allowed to be, I’m a General.” He sighed, rising from his seat to the window and looking down to the gate room below. “So here’s the deal. Try not to die, try not to let your men die, and above all others try not to let the civilians die. I know you won’t be able to save them all, all the time, and sometimes there’s just nothing you can do, but stick to those rules as close as you can and I know you’ll do fine.” He paused and looked back at John, “Do you know why I picked you for this mission, Sheppard?”
This wasn’t what John had expected at all. Maybe a dressing down or maybe a ‘you better not fuck up’. He’d had enough of those in his career to just let it roll off his shoulders. But this, this he didn’t know how to deal with. “Through random blood tests you found out you weren’t the only one to win the genetic lottery?”
O’Neill chuckled without humor, “No and yes. What Daniel said was pretty spot on.” His sigh was loud in the silence of the room. “I need men like you out there, Sheppard. Willing to do whatever it takes to get our men home no matter the cost to themselves.” He looked back down at the people moving around below, “Didn’t you think it was weird that you got away with not even a slap on the wrist? Not to mention a promotion to Full bird. The blood test just solidified your position on Atlantis instead of staying here as my second now that Carter’s at Area 51.”
“Sir, I…” John choked on his words. This was the nicest thing… hell, anyone had ever done for him.
“Just do us proud out there, Sheppard. That’s all I can ask for.” O’Neill turned around and clapped his hands together, all solemnity leaving his face in a flash, “Enough of the touchy feely crap. Let’s get this show on the road. I have the Simpsons to catch tonight.”
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John stood next to Dr. Weir in front of the open wormhole. He still believed he should go unaccompanied though it first just to make sure it was safe, but he knew starting another argument with her was an effort in futility. The silent disapproval he been dealt by her after the last time had finally broken him. She was worse than his mother had been, and that woman had known how to pack on the guilt.
O'Neill’s voice interrupted his daydreams of tying her up like a calf at a rodeo just to get her to stay the hell back while he took point, “Okay boys, girls, and variations thereof, it’s time to get moving. All’s fine and the weather’s nice, so please keep your hands and feet inside the wormhole at all times. In case of emergency, the exit’s at the front, not the back, of the event horizon. Thank you for flying SG Air.” John chuckled as he heard Daniel bitch in the background, “Fine, whatever. Expedition, you have a go.”
John and Elizabeth started up the ramp side by side. “So… you ever been through this thing?”
He could see her raise an eyebrow out of the corner of his eye, “A few times on diplomatic missions, why?”
“What does it feel like?” He couldn’t help but ask. They hadn’t let him go through the thing yet, which was kind of stupid now that he thought of it, and that part never seemed to get in the mission reports.
They paused before the event horizon as she thought on that, “I hear that it used to be very cold before Colonel Carter fixed it, but now it feels like you’re getting vertigo.” She looked him in the eyes, her expression serious, “They say it’s instantaneous but it’s really not. You can feel yourself being pulled quickly from one point to another. I have to say it’s not for some. I’ve seen people get sick.”
“Really?” He highly doubted he would be one of those people. He was used to pulling Gs, but it didn’t hurt to find out, just so he could be prepared to clean up some unfortunate messes.
“No.” She said as she smiled, grabbed his elbow, and pulled him through.
Maybe he would like her after all.
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Wake up.
The MRM swatted at his ear, trying to put a stop the pesky disturbance even though he knew the voice was in his mind and not his ears. He didn’t want to wake up, nothing needed fixed and it was too boring being awake if there wasn’t anything he could fiddle with.
I said wake up!
His systems slowly woke, leaving him a little fuzzy around the edges of his mind, “Go away.” He grumbled, flexing his hand. Damn thing was screwing with him again, tingling and almost painful, messed up ever since the electrocution. At least he still had complete mobility in it…unlike his face.
No! They’re here!
He bolted upright in his charging pod, hitting his head on the lid. Cursing, he groped around for the release with one hand and disconnected the charger at the base of his ‘skull’ with the other. He could already feel the ‘skin’ fusing over the port, slick and fluid, as the top of the pod slid back with a faint hiss.
“Did you just say what I thought you said or has one of my crystals gone bad?” He paused, thinking about the last time something like this had happened. Distantly, he remembered something about a giant fish trying to eat him. “Again.” He mumbled, shuddering at the hazy memories.
They’re here, they’re here, they’re here! They didn’t forget us. The MRM could see her in his mind’s eye, childlike and gleeful, jumping up and down with excitement.
“Of course they didn’t forget. You’re to annoying to forget.” The MRM griped as he fumbled his way out of his pod and stumbled to his feet. His back creaked alarmingly and he reminded himself to do a self-maintenance check soon.
So are you. She said, pout evident in her voice.
“Brilliant come back. If we had a Potentia for every original thing you said over the millennia, we’d have...oh, right, none. ”
The MRM started his long journey to the Imperium Locus. He wished he could use the Irascentia to get there faster, but their power supplies were running nigh on empty. There was just enough to hold back the ocean. He had the sneaking suspicion that Ally enjoyed seeing him suffer too.
“So what are we dealing with?” He ran his hand through his hair, trying to beat it into submission. He probably only made it worse.
There are eighty-six of them all together. They’re close in form to Alterans, but not quite right. They feel weird.
The MRM frowned, thinking of the implications. “Okay, define weird?”
Weird. Of a strikingly odd or-
“Not what I meant and you know it.” He snapped. Hearing her laugh at him, he rolled his eyes, “This isn’t the time for jokes, Ally. This is our future we’re talking about.”
They’re diluted maybe? I can only connect with a few of them and not very well at that. There’s one that sticks out though. I can get feelings from him at least. His intentions, but not all his thoughts like I should.
“It’s been over 10000 years. Some genetic distancing was to be expected.” He continued closer to his destination and straightened his uniform, tugging it down sharply. How did it always manage to get rumbled when he didn’t move in his ‘sleep’? The MRM chalked it up to one of life’s great mysteries.
This is a little more than some. Maybe they interbred?
That could be all kinds bad. “Possibly, though why, I haven’t the faintest.” He took the first step up the stairs leading to their salvation, or their doom. He squared his shoulders and held his head up high. There was only one way to find out.
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John was in awe. The high ceilings, reaching far up, came to a slanted point, the site of which stole his breath. He could see a stained glass window, bright and colorful, at the top of a set stylized stairs and he itched to reach out and touch it, to feel the cold glass beneath his fingertips.
With each step the room lit up around him and he couldn’t shake the sense of home, like this was the place he was always meant to be. John, blinking his eyes, shook off his baffling thoughts and joined Weir in front of the ‘gate.
“This is amazing. To believe we’re the first people to step foot in Atlantis for over 10000 years.” She spun in place taking it all in, voice light with her astonishment, “Just look at it. It’s like the city is sensing our presence and coming alive.”
He only nodded. John didn’t have the words to properly express what he was feeling, the pull he was getting from the city, and he wasn’t sure that he should. It felt like a secret between Atlantis and him, something no one else should or could feel. He swore that he felt her joy and worry over having people within her walls once more.
It was ridiculous but he literally thought she was alive, reaching hesitantly out to embrace them. Her feelings were more focused and complex than what he had received from all of the tech he had touched before.
The General’s voice came over their headsets, crackling and distant, interrupting them. “Atlantis Expedition, what’s your status?”
Elizabeth pressed her hand to her ear, activating her radio, “Everything is fine here, General. There appears to be power to the systems, though how much, we can’t tell yet. We might not be able to make contact again.” She sighed and glanced back at the Stargate, a brief flash of longing coming over her and John wondered briefly what she had left behind. “That seems to be all of us. I guess this is goodbye for now.”
“We’ll catch up when we can then. There’s that new ship we’re building so it won’t be too long.” Something was rolled through the wormhole, to stop at their feet. “Have fun, kids!” The gate shut down with a whoosh and Elizabeth bent down to pick it up.
“Trust the General to make this his parting gift.” She smirked, holding up the bottle for John’s inspection.
John laughed as he saw the bottle of champagne and the note attached to it. ‘Bon Voyage’ it read in O'Neill’s swirly handwriting. It did seem like something he would do, one final joke before parting.
John suddenly froze as he felt something new, something skittering at the edges of his awareness. It was sharp and almost painful, and he couldn’t believe he hadn’t noticed it before.
Elizabeth took note of his rapid change of mood and frowned. “John? Colonel, what is it?”
“I don’t know. Something…” He tried to form words to describe it, failing miserably. “I’m getting the feeling like something’s coming towards us. Like there’s someone here.”
He clutched his P-90 closer as he ascended stairs to the room above. He barely gave any thought to the consoles lighting up merrily as he passed.
“It’s coming from that way.” He pointed to a corridor leading deeper into the city. The hallway was dark save for a small bit of light emanating from two strips set into the bottoms of the walls.
He glanced back at Elizabeth, seeing that she was still following. He thought he saw a bit of fear creep in to her eyes but he blinked and it was gone, her face once more set in stone.
She went over to the railing that overlooked the room, leaned over, and called out to those below, “People, can I have your attention, please.” She waited until their murmuring stopped and she had their attention, “The Colonel and I are going to check out the adjoining areas. Please stay where you are and don’t leave the ‘gate room. We’ll be back shortly.” She ignored the mumbled protests and joined John.
She gave him a look when she saw his glare. “Lead the way, Colonel.” She said pointedly.
He sighed. “Yes, ma’am.” He knew by now it was pointless to argue with the woman. It would get him nowhere.
John raised his P-90 and started down the hallway, hearing her hesitant steps behind him gaining momentum as they walked. Whatever he was feeling was getting closer by the second and he could feel the irritation pouring off of it, along with the hints of loneliness he got from all the Ancient things he had come across. They came to T-junction in the path and he put his hand out to stop her from going any further.
He stepped around the corner only to be knocked down. It felt like he had run into a brick wall. Shaking himself and getting to his feet, he paused, staring eye to eye with a man he had never seen before, but felt like he had known his whole life.
The guy was a little shorter than John, but broader, with a receding hairline, pale skin, and bright blue eyes. They actually seemed to glow in the dim light of the corridor. His clothes were simple, white and beige. A uniform of some type, John thought to himself, and he suppressed the other thought of how he looked kind of cute in a geeky sort of way. Too bad geeky was John’s type.
“Uh, hi?” John winced at how lame that sounded. He cleared his throat and tried again, “My name’s Colonel John Sheppard and I’m part of an expedition to Atlantis. We mean you no harm and wish to learn from you.” His diplomatic teacher at the SGC would be proud. Not that he had been paying any real attention Daniel anyway.
The man crossed his arms over his chest, tilted his head back and glared furiously up at him. “What took you so long?”
John racked his mind for what to say to that, finally managing, “Huh?” It was simple, precise, and he thought it conveyed his confusion quite nicely.
The guy rolled his eyes and placed his hands on his hips. To John’s amazement he looked even more pissed off. “Let me rephrase that, because obviously in the ten millennia it’s taken for you guys to return, you’ve gotten even stupider. So, what in the Alvarium has taken you so long?”
John opened and closed his mouth a few times. He had the incredible urge to say sorry, feeling all the anger and hurt. Why was he getting these feelings? It was like he what he got from Ancient tech, but stronger. It reminded him of what he was feeling from Atlantis, but where the city was like the moon, comforting and gentle, this man was the sun, strong and sharp. Ready to burn him from the inside out if he wasn’t careful.
And what the fuck was an Alvarium, anyway?
He felt a hand on his shoulder, light and friendly, and he glanced back to Elizabeth.
“John, I’ll take it from here.” He nodded and waved Elizabeth forward. The guy had seemed a little rude- and rightly so, from the things John was getting from him-but he hadn’t done anything remotely dangerous. He kept his guard up still, waiting for one wrong move.
She stepped forward and extended her hand in greeting. “I’m Elizabeth Weir and-“
The man sneered down at her hand. John caught the slight finch he took away from it. It seemed to be an involuntary action, force of habit or instinctual fear, John couldn’t tell.
“No. No, no, no, no.” The man placed his hands over his ears and closed his eyes. The light in the hallway dimmed around them and John wondered if the man’s eyes really were glowing. “Not listening, not listening, NOT LISTENING!”
“Are you okay?” The sudden panic Elizabeth had brought on with her greeting made John marvel at the emotional whiplash he was receiving by proxy. It left him unsettled and fearing for the man’s- or his own- sanity.
Those blue eyes snapped open at the sound of his voice and he hesitantly lowered his arms. His wary eyes turned to John. “According to my programming I’m not supposed to interact with anyone not of Alteran blood.” His gaze slid to Elizabeth and it skidded away just as fast. “And she’s not reading as even remotely Alteran.”
“Programming?” Pictures of brainwashing scenarios ran through his mind, too horrifying and detailed for his liking.
“Yes, programming. Can we get back to the part where you tell me why there’s a 10000 year gap between visits? An MRM gets dusty you know.” He sniffed, picking an imaginary piece of lint off his shoulder. He suddenly looked to the ceiling and scowled. “Shut up.”
“What?”
The guy rolled his eyes so hard that John’s ached in sympathy. “I wasn’t talking to you.”
“Oookay…” John drawled. He was curious to know if this guy had all the cards to his deck.
“MRM? Do you mind telling me what that is?” Elizabeth asked, pulling John from his musings.
“Yes, I do mind because I’m not listening to you.” His eyes got big and round, fear racketing up again. He pointed his finger in Elizabeth’s direction. “Ahh, you’re trying to fool me aren’t you? I knew it. You won’t get me to say a word.” He then made a complicated gesture that in the end looked like he was sewing his lips shut.
“Just answer her questions dammit!” There was only so much sympathy John was willing to doll out, even with all the crazy.
John almost staggered under the wave of relief. A huge smile stole the man’s face, lips quirked at an odd angle and highlighting how one side of his face seemed to droop slightly. Huh, interesting.
“Why didn’t you just say so?” He focused his attentions on Dr. Weir, “I’m the MRM, nice to meet you. Welcome to my-“ He paused, looking to the ceiling again and rolling his eyes. “Sorry, our fair city.” Then he clasped his fist to his chest and bowed low, bending at the hips.
“Okay, so you’re the MRM. And what is that exactly?” John asked, itching for more information.
John didn’t need to feel the man’s emotions as the hurt and dread flashed in his eyes. “Oh my Cathedra, you did forget! I can’t believe I’ve been keeping this place sunk for so many boring, tedious years just to find out it was pointless!”
“Don’t you mean afloat? ‘You kept this place afloat’?” John asked.
The MRM- or whatever the guy called himself- stared at John perplexedly, “What? No. I was told to keep her sunk. If you had wanted to have it afloat maybe you should have left it that way, huh? Ever think of that?” He got a far off look, mumbling, “She does like it down here though, says the fish are nice. Frankly, they scramble my circuits when they get too close.”
John was too stuck on the first part to really process the second. “We’re underwater?”
Elizabeth frowned, poking him in the side, “Well, it does make sense when you think about it. Atlantis, the city that sunk beneath the waves.”
John shrugged, “I guess so.” He hadn’t really thought about it.
MRM crossed his arms over his chest and glared daggers at them both. “Oh, I see how it is. She gets all the recognition, and I get ‘MRM, what’s that?’ Talk about thankless job.” He murmured the last looking vaguely hurt. John had to give it to the man for having such an expressive face, even if it didn’t seem to work right.
Something clicked in John’s head. “Wait. Did you say circuits?”
“Yes circuits. As in crystalline. I’m the Maintenance and Repair Mechanoid and I’d seriously consider quitting if I could. I’ve spent ten Millennia stuck here listening to her prattle on and on about the fish and the Potentia and the never ending boredom that is her Navis Porta. Do you have any idea what-“
“Whoa there. Slow down and take a deep breath.” John put his hands out placating, trying to calm the MRM down.
That only seemed to rile the guy more. “I don’t need to breathe! I’d say I’d gone insane if I hadn’t passed my self-checks.” MRM paused, “Then again my checks could be faulty because of said insanity. That’s something to consider. Maybe I have gone crazy and I just don’t know it yet.” He looked up and shook his fist at the roof. “No, you cannot!”
“So you’re a robot?” Elizabeth said, stepping in between them. He was going to have to talk to her later about getting between him and the screaming natives.
The MRM deflated, all the fight leaving him as he folded in on himself. “If you want to simplify me that much then, yes, I’m a ‘robot’.”
“And you’re made from Ancient tech.” John snapped his fingers and pointed, suddenly understanding, “That’s why I can sense you.”
The MRM frowned, the corner of his mouth falling even more. “I’ll admit I’m pretty old from an organic stand point, but I’d hardly call myself ancient.”
“He means Alteran. It’s what we call them.” Elizabeth continued before MRM could open his mouth, turning to John she said, “I believe we should call in Carson and Radek in on this.”
John nodded his agreement and made the call.
AT^AT^AT^AT^AT^AT^AT^AT^AT^AT^AT^
I still think you should let me talk to them.
The MRM chose to ignore her. He rubbed his bad hand absentmindedly with the other, peeking out of the corner of his eye at the Alteran. He was certainly attractive, tall and thin with a commanding presence. The hair was weird though. He wondered what the man thought of him, but there was some emotions and thoughts blocked by his connection with the Alterans. They had been deemed to private by their ‘father’ when he had created Ally and the MRM.
You’re too emotional. Let me deal with them.
He lifted his chin in a show of stubbornness and crossed his arms. He’d damn well see who broke first.
I don’t have to ask, you know.
Now that was just playing dirty. It was always an even more unpleasant experience if she forced it. “Fine! Hey, whatever your names were, Atlantis wants a few words.” He relinquished control as they stared at him.
He could tell by the change of lighting in the corridor that his eyes now glowed a bright gold, instead of their usual blue. They had been designed to do that so that everyone knew who they were talking to. Not that they had talked to him much. He’d probably spoke more to these people in the last few minutes than he’d ever spoken to the Alterans.
Most of his interactions with them had been put through Ally. The only one that had paid him any attention had been their ‘father’. And Janus, but that guy had always been weird, even by Alteran standards.
His body moved without his input as his hands clasped behind his back. He would never get used to that. Being able to hear, see, and feel, but not able to control himself. His mouth opened, and she spoke with his voice, “Greetings, it is an honor to have those descended from our makers once again within the city.”
So formal and so incredibly fake, he told her. She was always this way when dealing with others. Nothing like what she really was.
She didn’t blink an eye (his eye) at the comment. “I can tell from the city’s sensors that not many of your people possess the gene for technology activation. Can you tell me how this has come to pass?”
If it wasn’t for his superior hearing he wouldn’t have caught the muttered words from the (mostly) Alteran. “Elizabeth, did his eyes just change colors? And I didn’t want to mention this before, and feel free to correct me if I’m wrong, but are they glowing?”
“Yes.” She said, her eyes wide with what he thought was either fear or awe.
The Alteran (John, his name was John) quirked an eyebrow. “Yes to which?”
“Both.”
They startled when Ally replied, “Yes, you are now dealing directly with the city’s artificial intelligence. I am Atlantis.”
“So we’re talking to the city?” The one call Elizabeth asked skeptically.
He felt his head nod, “Yes and no. The city is made up of many programs and parts, but I am the program made to monitor and control them just as the MRM was made to fix them if the need arises. While I do not normally have a physical form to communicate, the MRM has generously offered me his.”
That’s one way to put it. Personally, I’d call it hijacking.
“I’m getting the feeling that ‘offered’ isn’t quite the right word.” Well, wasn’t spiky-head a perceptive one. And what was with that hair anyway? It looked like he was wearing a Capillus Bestia as a hat. MRM shuddered inside his head. Those things liked to bite.
He could feel the right side of his mouth quirk up, the left not quite able to join it due to the damage it had taken. “We have our little arguments as most siblings do.”
John rocked on his heels and smirk. “Yep, I know how that is. My brother and I could never agree to share our toys.”
Toys! My body is not a toy! The mere idea would have him frothing at the mouth if he had control.
“Dear lord, it’s a man!”
The MRM’s head twisted to catch sight the new comers. The one that had spoken was a bit shorter than him and almost as broad. He spoke with an accent different to the others and the MRM wondered if he was from different planet than Elizabeth and John.
The man at his side was even shorter with long wispy hair even crazier than Johns. He wore small pieces of glass set in to a wire frame on his face and the MRM’s historical knowledge supplied the reasoning behind them. They were apparently supposed to correct problems with eyesight and the MRM shied away from the thought of how primitive that was.
“Greetings traveler.” His head nodded to the taller of the two. Ally and he were only able to truly interact with ones with the Alteran gene unless told otherwise. Well he was. She still couldn’t turn on most systems without direct action by an Alteran. Fail-safes could be a stercum.
“Oh, hey docs. This is…” Colonel paused, and the MRM could feel his confusion. “Um. It’s sort of Atlantis. Sort of not, and sort of the repair man.”
Repair man! Well, technically yes, but still, he had a name. Okay no, he didn’t, but the description still rankled him for some reason, like he was easily replaceable with anyone. No organic could do the dangerous things his job sometimes called for.
“I do not believe he is very fond of that, Colonel.” Ally said. “And if you wish, you may call me Ally.”
“What should we call him then?” Elizabeth asked. She seemed to be ignoring the perplexed stares of the two new arrivals.
She shrugged his shoulder. “He does not have a name, only a title. I took the name of the city millions of years ago. Because I am a part of it, they thought it fitting. Since he is a separate entity and therefore not part of Atlantis, they never saw fit to give him one. They only called him the MRM.” She made him frown and he could feel her anger on his behalf. “There wasn’t much call for them to interact with him, because I was always there to direct him to what needed fixed. It was a sore point between the Alterans and us. I was not allowed to give him a name, and he was not allowed to pick one.”
“Rod!” Colonel blurted out. He turned a little red with embarrassment when they all stared at him. “I think it fits. He looks like a Rod to me.” The last was mumbled under his breath.
I certainly don’t feel like a Rod.
“No, I don’t believe that is right. He doesn’t like it.”
Elizabeth looked contemplative. “How about Meredith?” she suggested, “It means lord or protector of the seas.”
Huh. I like it. Lord of the seas. It has a nice sound to it.
“I believe that is a fine name. It’s certainly fitting for his duties, and I believe he enjoys it.”
John scrunched up his face and the MRM (Meredith, he had a name now!) could feel the man’s distaste. “But that’s a gir-“
“Would someone mind telling us what the bloody hell is going on?” One of the men, the one that had spoken before, flung a hand out at him. “Who is this and how is he even here? And what the bloody hell is wrong with his eyes?”
“Yes, an explanation would be nice.” The shorter one said in an even funnier accent. He didn’t appear to have a drop of Alteran in him. Cathedra, the things he had to put up with.
Meredith (he could get used to having a name) pushed Ally out of his head. She had her fun and it was time to get back to business. “Enough of this stercum, I’ve got things to do if all of you people intend to stay here for any significant amount of time. The living quarters need to be opened, the desalination tanks need to be checked, the list goes on and on. So if you’ll excuse me.” Meredith pointed over their shoulders.
That was rude. Also, it looks like someone is messing with things they shouldn’t. We’re losing power fast and we’ve already lost one of the piers to flooding. The shield won’t last much longer. Maybe a few hours at most.
“Why didn’t you say so? This is terrible!” He flung up his hands in frustration, ignoring the others blank stares.
I’m sorry. If I hadn’t been connected to you, I would have been able to see it sooner. He felt her sincerity and inwardly forgave her. He had never been able to stay mad at her for long, familial bonds and all that. Truly, she was the only thing that kept him together most days.
“Great, just great.” He shoved the short guy out of his way as he hurried towards the Imperium Locus.
“Hey! Whoa Meredith, where are you going?” John called out to him. Meredith could sense that he was following close behind.
“The Potentia’s being drained fast. If I don’t do something quick, the shield’s going to drop and this whole place is going to flood.” He threw over his shoulder and quickened his step.
“While that might not kill me, the workload I’d have to deal with certainly would. I also assume all of you don’t want to die, so there’s that, too.” He added as an afterthought. The only endearing thing these people had done so far was give him a name.
As he reflected on that though, he realized that it was something that would stick out in his memories centuries from now, long after they were all gone and faded to dust. But he was always left behind or ignored, so it was pointless getting attached now.
But maybe, just maybe, he could…
Don’t even think about it. That’s only for emergency situations.
He sometimes hated that she knew him so well.
AT^AT^AT^AT^AT^AT^AT^AT^AT^AT^AT^
John and the others couldn’t keep up with Meredith (god, he’d really have to get used to that name). Racing through the halls, they discovered the guy was scary fast when he wanted to be. Inhumanly fast even, which made sense because apparently he wasn’t.
John idly wondered what other inhuman things the guy could do. ‘Cause seriously? Meeting a robot was one of a sci-fi geek’s fantasies, and as much as John would die before he admitted it, he was a total sci-fi geek. His thoughts strayed to wondering what human things Meredith could do when he caught sight of Meredith’s perfect heart-shaped ass going around the corner.
As they slid into the control room, they could already see Meredith tossing aside that long haired freak, Kavanaugh, out of the way of the consoles. He rapidly started typing in commands, flingers blurring as John’s eyes refused to keep up.
Kavanaugh certainly hadn’t endeared himself to anybody at the mountain with the attitude he had, and John found himself fighting down a chuckle that wanted to escape from the affronted look on the man’s face. It served the guy right for thinking he was better than everyone. John had the urge at more than one occasion to pull out his PHD and smash it into Kavanaugh’s face. The only thing that held him back was the thought of how his PHD would fare from such an encounter.
“Who the hell are you and what do you think you’re doing?” Kavanaugh shouted. Great first contact skills there, John thought and reminded himself to mark the guy off the list for potential team members later. Not that he really wanted the guy in the first place, but Elizabeth had wanted John to seriously consider all of the scientists before he chose. So far none of them were on his personal list.
John could barely hear Meredith’s mumbled ‘not listening’ as he realized they were garnering the curious stares of the people around them. John shot Major Lorne a look when it seemed like he was going to interfere. Lorne raised his eyebrow questioningly, but stayed where he was next to the stairs.
“Meredith, could you answer Peter, please? I think I speak for all of us when I say we’d all like to know.” Elizabeth panted. The run seemed to have winded her and the others. Hell, if he didn’t run every day, it would probably have done the same to him at the speed they had gone just to keep up.
“I can’t. The only people I’m allowed to talk to are those with Alteran genetic makeup unless I’m told otherwise by an Alteran.” Meredith shot back. “The only reason I’m talking to you is because the Colonel here told me to answer your questions. It was put in as a failsafe to prevent my knowledge from getting into the wrong hands.”
That made a good bit of sense to John, but it also seemed impractical with the amount of people they had without the gene. “How ‘bout we say from now on you can talk to anyone you want?”
Meredith didn’t even pause his frantic typing to peer at John, and he could feel Meredith’s gratefulness through their connection. “That would certainly be helpful. I’ve never had to deal with so many without the gene before.” He turned back to the console.
“So do you mind telling us what you’re doing, lad?” Carson asked once he caught his breath.
Radek was still bent over clutching his knees, chest heaving with every breath. John crossed him off the list. It was too bad the guy was so out of shape. He was smart and had a wicked sense of humor John had come to appreciate when they had been stuck in Radek’s lab.
“I’m trying to shut down what this idio has turned on. The sheer amount of things this guy has screwed up in such a short amount of time is impressive in and of itself.” He continued on, ignoring Kavanaugh’s indignant squawk, “He’s somehow caused a cascade effect in the systems. They’re turning on rapidly and all we can do is try to keep ahead of them.” He stopped his frantic typing and dropped his head looking tired. “Who even activated this console anyway?”
John raised his hand sheepishly. “I think that was me. I noticed them light up when I passed by earlier.”
“Is there anything we can do?” asked Elizabeth. Her façade was starting to crack, and John could see the fear on her face.
“Not unless you have a time machine to go back and stop him from ever touching it. Regrettably the Alterans took theirs with them.” John had to blink at that. He suppressed the inappropriate images of Deloreans from popping up in his head.
“Truthfully, the only thing I can recommend now is to raise the city.” His last remark was punctuated by the timely shuddering of the city around them, throwing some of the expedition members to the floor.
John and the others staggered as they lost their balance. “What the fuck was that?”
Meredith seemed to have kept his balance without any trouble. “That was the shield collapsing in sector 32 and it’s only just started. There’s nothing we can do except raise Atlantis to the surface. You have to give us the order, Colonel, or we won’t be able to do it. The order needs to come from the highest ranking Alteran and right now that’s you.”
John didn’t have to think about it long, feeling Meredith’s urgency and Ally’s anticipation coursing through him. “Do it.”
“You got it, Colonel.” The sudden surge of happiness nearly bowled John over. Meredith looked up beaming at the ceiling. “It’s been too long since we’ve seen the sun, Ally.”
The way Meredith’s face brightened with joy had John shuddering for an entirely different reason as the city shook.