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Atlantis: The Daniel Jackson Variant
The Siege, Part III
Daniel Jackson came charging onto the bridge of the Daedalus. “What's up?”
“Atlantis is under attack.” A dark-haired man, vaguely familiar, answered.
“Oh,” Daniel searched his memory.
“Sheppard, Major John Sheppard.”
“Oh, right,” they shook hands. “You're the guy who sat in the chair, yeah?”
“Yeah. And you're the guy General O'Neill told Elizabeth she couldn't have. Ever.”
“Really? Well, Jack changed his mind and I sneaked on board in case he changed it back.” He gave a little smile.
*
John couldn't hide his relief when Elizabeth answered from Atlantis. “We could use some help with the Wraith in the city.”
“I'll send some people to help with that. Daedalus out.” Commander Stephen Caldwell turned. “Major Sheppard, I'm sure you're anxious to get back to Atlantis.”
“Yes, Sir. Thank you.”
“Commander Caldwell, I could...” Daniel pointed to the planet.
“Request denied, Dr. Jackson.”
“But... Dr. Weir said...”
“I'll send her plenty of help. My orders were to deliver you safely to Atlantis. Beaming you down into the middle of a firefight doesn't equate safety in my book. Now you're more than welcome to stay and monitor communications from the bridge or I can have you confined to quarters. Your choice, Dr. Jackson.”
Sheppard just grinned and shot Daniel a little wave as he headed out.
*
“Dr. Jackson?” Elizabeth's voice faltered as she watched Daniel follow Caldwell off the Daedalus.
“I know you've been busy and you probably haven't had time to look at the manifest but I understand you're looking for an expert on Ancient?” Daniel gave what he hoped was a disarming smile.
“Welcome to Atlantis, Dr. Jackson, I just wish it were under better circumstances. As soon as we solve this crisis, I look forward to picking your brain.”
“Listen, unless you think I can be of any help, why don't I just get out of your way.”
“Thank you. Why don't you check in with Dr. Beckett?”
*
“Well,” Dr. Beckett strode up to the infirmary bed. “Everything looks good, Dr. Jackson.” Eyes on the data pad in his hand, he asked, “I assume you're interested in the gene therapy?”
Daniel flinched. “I'd like to discuss that. In private, if that's possible.”
Beckett eyed him quizzically. “Of course, let's step into my office then.”
Daniel followed him in and watched silently as the door slid shut. “I apologize for asking that question publicly but we've gotten used to a certain,” he searched for the right term, “informality when it comes to Ancient technology. And it is a standard question we ask of everyone who transfers in from Earth.”
Daniel fidgeted, walking around the room. “You know that when we were in Antarctica I was tested and came up negative for the gene?”
“Aye, that's in your medical history.”
“Do you have any Ancient technology in here?” Daniel asked unexpectedly.
Beckett frowned then selected a small device from his desk. “It's a life sign sensor. Seems to work much better for Colonel Sheppard than most others.”
Daniel reached for it and Beckett handed it over. As soon as Daniel touched it, it flared brightly. Beckett took an involuntary step forward, snatching the device from his hand and watched it fade to a warm glow. “The gene test...”
“Was accurate...at that time. Since then I've had an....encounter with an Ancient I'd known......before. She might have...may have....left a little something extra behind.”
“A bit more than a little something, I'd say. So I take it if I re-ran that test, you'd come up having the gene in spades?”
“I think so. I don't mind that, I know you have to re-run the test. What I mind is it saying, somewhere in my chart, how I got the gene. Can you say I got the gene therapy and it was just really, really effective?”
Beckett crossed his arms, leaning back against his desk. “I can classify the information in your file.”
“And how many people can access classified information? I can't do my job here if people think I'm some kind of an Ancient....weirdo.”
Beckett had to smile. “Ah, you've got me there. Classified doesn't mean secret, at least not here.” He paused. “I'll keep it out of your file, I'll just report that the gene therapy was successful.” He held his hand up as Daniel started to speak. “I canna lie to Elizabeth, she has to know the truth.”
Daniel nodded. “I can live with that. Thank you, Dr. Beckett.”
*
“I just can't believe I actually made it here,” Daniel confessed to Elizabeth as he rambled around her office, unable to sit, trying to look everywhere at everything.
“I can't believe General O'Neill changed his mind. He was very adamant the first time I asked for you.” She admitted.
“And the second. And the third.” Daniel added.
“Having you on this expedition always made sense, Dr. Jackson. I'm glad someone finally saw that. Come in,” she motioned toward Sheppard's team as they lingered at the door. “I believe you've met Rodney and Major Sheppard. Teyla Emmagan, Ronon Dex, this is Dr. Daniel Jackson. He is the foremost expert on the Ancients and is fluent in the language and history and he'll be joining us here on Atlantis.”
“Please call me Daniel,” he asked as they shook hands.
“Ronon and I were just on our way to the commissary, would you care to join us?”
“Sure,” Daniel nodded.
“I need a moment with Major Sheppard and Rodney. And could you please show Dr. Jackson to his quarters afterward, Teyla?”
“Of course, Dr. Weir.”
Ronon trailed behind the two of them.
*
“So you are already acquainted with Major Sheppard and Dr. McKay?” Teyla said as they made their way into the commissary.
“Yes.” Daniel took a tray and followed her down the line. “Major Sheppard flew Jack into Antarctica where Rodney and I were looking to find Atlantis.”
“So you helped McKay find this place?”
Daniel stared at the amount of food on Ronon's tray. “Oh, yeah, I did.” Ronon snorted. “Why?”
“To hear McKay tell it, he figured it out all on his own.”
Daniel bit his lip but the smile still escaped. “Good to know he hasn't changed.”
“Hey, Lorne, what's up?” Ronon stopped as he saw the other man come to a complete stop on his way back for a coffee refill. He hadn't seen Lorne's spine that stiff since the last time Caldwell landed.
“Dr. Jackson. Sir.” Lorne froze.
“Uh...”
“Major Evan Lorne, sir.”
“Yeah. Could you not do...that.” Daniel pointed awkwardly while holding his tray. “That thing...with your back? I'm not actually in the Air Force.”
“No, sir. Begging your pardon, sir.” Lorne took the opportunity to escape.
“What's up with that?” Ronon plopped down at the table.
“I have no idea.” Daniel unwrapped his silverware. “Lorne was on a mission we were called out to, long time ago.”
*
Ronon's curiosity got the best of him so while Teyla showed Jackson to his quarters, he walked over to the table where Lorne was and slouched into a chair. “So, why'd you get all military there? Never seen you act like that, even around Sheppard.”
“Oh. Man,” Lorne shook his head. “When I was with the SGC, we were doing a mining survey and we lost a guy, so they called SG-1 to come and help do S&R. When Dr. Jackson saw that we had moved a bunch of stuff that was in the way, he threw a fit.”
“Like a McKay fit?”
“Worse than that. After it was all over with, we had to listen to him lecture us for a whole day about not moving....stuff that he might want to look at. But I will say this, if I need somebody to talk me out of trouble, I'd pick him. When we ran into the creatures that lived on that world, Dr. Jackson not only talked them out of killing us, but he got them to mine the stuff we needed.” Lorne rose, “If you see something that you think he might need to see, my advice is not to move a twig until he's had the chance to look it over.” He shook his head as he walked away.
*
Daniel looked around his quarters with deep satisfaction. He suspected the room was bigger than he really needed but Elizabeth pointed out that his assignment was congruent with his status as senior staff. The walls were bare since he'd left nearly everything he owned in Earth storage but he knew that would soon change as he made anthropological inroads.
The bed was smaller than the king to which he was accustomed but he was thankful the two tall slim windows opened to allow him to hear the water. He'd have to get the desk moved over closer to those windows, he mused as he unpacked the last of his possessions.
Atlantis.
He was finally here.