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Aberrant: StarGate Atlantis - S1:E1 - Rising


Dawn OOC

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The blonde peered at the brunette human in front of her, taking a moment to sift through the accent and odd use of words. "You sound like a child," escaped her before her mind had time to tally up just how many different ways that that was the wrong thing to say.

For Dr. Weir, this was an education on the language in a simple phrase. The girl spoke differently than the little bit of Ancient she'd heard the Athosians speak; for them it was the trade language , used when necessary but otherwise left to languish as a relic of the ancestors. From this girl, though, Weir could catch the cadence and inflections of a natural speaker. Wherever this girl came from, Ancient wasn't just the trade language: it was the language.

While the Atlantis Expedition leader took this in, their unintentional guest was also learning and observing. The people around this human deferred to her, like the males deferred to the Keeper. She saw no Wraith anywhere and all the technology here seemed primitive or like - primitive. It was all primitive. More importantly, none of it was Wraith. She wasn't supposed to interact with humans; the Keeper had forbidden it after Wilam and his family had tried to take her from the ship after they figured out why she was different from them. Sometimes she missed Wilam and his little ones, but only quietly and when the Keeper was occupied with other entertainments. She glanced around the room again and spoke with quiet assurance, "That city is gone. And I am not allowed to speak with you. You must take me back to the Keeper. She will be angry that I am gone and they will come looking for me."

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Weir's eyes narrowed at the girl and she glanced at Yseult. "How did you find her?" she asked her in English.

"Drugged out of her mind in a lab," Yseult offered, shrugging one firm shoulder in a graceful French gesture.

Weir nodded. "You're wrong," she told the girl, trying to adjust her speech to match the girl's. It would take some time and practice, but she was confident she could learn it. She had to learn it. "You are here, at Atlantis, and the Wraith is not here. They cannot find you here. We'll protect you."

She tried a gentle smile and asked, "What is your name?"

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Yseult stood quietly, leaning against the wall, paying half a mind to the conversation she could less than half understand, just enough to know when she was addressed. Beneath heavy lidded eyes, her cold, blue eyes shifted from Weir to Dylan and back, her face otherwise impassive.

Why the concern for Dylan, specifically, other than for a expedition member, an aggravating squint? Sure, she was glad Dylan wasn't severely hurt, apparently, but even though he was technically her husband, she wasn't that concerned about him. Really. No where near as much as Weir seemed to.

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She shook her head sharply and clenched her hands at her side, the closest Yseult had seen of a violent action from the girl. Any intimidation from the movement was immediately negated by a petulant foot-stomping; if she'd been a few inches shorter the suggestion of a time-out and nap would have been appropriate. "No, it's gone! We made it go away!"

The outburst ended as abruptly as it started, the girl staring wide-eyed at Dr. Weir. She shook her head again, but in confusion instead of anger and whispered, "We're not allowed to talk about this. I'm not allowed to talk to you. Take me back to the Keeper. She'll punish us both for talking abou- for talking to each other."

She hugged her arms around herself, desperately fighting back tears of confusion and fear.

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Dylan gave a half groan as he opened his eyes. Seeing Atlantis come in to view helped reassured him he hadn't just fallen in to a nightmare. He looked around slowly, taking stock of himself. He felt fine, perhaps a little limp but not really hurt. One of the med techs was nearby and he cleared his throat to get their attention.

"Sgt. Moreau, did she make it back in one piece?"

"Yes Mr. Harvey she is fine."

"Great, probably going to be hearing for weeks how she had to save my ass. If there really was a god she would have gotten shot too. I feel fine, can I get out of here?"

Dr. Carson Beckitt seemed to almost come out of nowhere at that question. "No you certainly cannot. Son, you were hit by an alien weapon. We simply have no way of knowing what the effects are yet. I need you to stay at least overnight for observation."

Dylan groaned and sat up slowly in protest. "Doc, I got a team that as far as I know is poking something that could blow up this whole city. Now I trust ‘em, mostly, but just think I should check on their progress. Staying here a whole night is a lot of wasted man hours, I could be helping translating the database, engineering new power sources, checking to make sure the weapons work in this..."

"And all that will be there to do tomorrow. You need sleep as well. I think it can be safe to say you’re not the only bright lad we have on this expedition."

Dylan gave up and sighed. “Alright Doc, you win, but unless I am growing tentacles or something in the morning I need to get back to work.”

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Dr. Weir wasn't phased; she'd seen grown men twice her guest's mass throw tantrums four times as damaging. "The Keeper... who that is, she won't be here," Weir said, trying to refine her grasp of Ancient on the fly. She struggled to think up what she needed to say to the girl to break through the shield she'd erected.

"The Keeper is not here," Weir managed to say more clearly. "I promise to you - the Keeper or whom you scare of are not here. They will not hurt you here." She smiled at the girl again, hoping to get through to her and make a connection. It hurt her to see anyone this terrified of something. Her heart was already going out to this victim of Wraith cruelty, but she reminded herself that she was the leader of an expedition.

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"She will come. They will come." Weir heard both fear and hope in the young woman's voice; she'd met enough kidnapping and abuse victims before to understand how the trauma could work its way into the mind, playing tricks and doing whatever was necessary to make it through the pain. The more she learned of the Wraith, the more she hated them; it seemed the Pegasus Galaxy was no less infested with tyrants and cruelty than the Milky Way. From what she was seeing, these Wraith could teach the Goa’uld a thing or two about evil; the thought made her shiver.

The girl was looking around again, and then leaned in to whisper conspiratorially to Weir, "We're not supposed to be here. Everyone has to leave. The city has to go away. It’s the only way we’ll be safe. If we run away then they can’t find us. We have to run really really far away; they’re everywhere and the Keeper will be looking for me. Ghost always finds me. They always find me." She eyed the puddle-jumper speculatively and continued her “whisper” to Weir, twining her fingers together behind her back. “I’m not allowed to play up here.”

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Yseult's sharp eyes caught Harvey stirring, ears hearing his murmurs to Beckett. She glanced at Weir and Loopy McFruitcake, and seeing them leaning together and whispering like Bffs, she gave them some more space and stalked over to Dylan, icy eyes glittering with a mocking mirth, lips curved in a smirk.

"Hey there sleepyhead, you have a good rest?" she asked, husky voice dripping with sugary sweetness. "How 'bout you stay here for now on and play with you tinker-toys while the big girls and boys go out and take care of business, hmmm?" She leaned over and gave him a one-armed hug, strong enough to make him groan and she whispered in his ear, "Seriously, I am going to be rubbing this in your face for weeks."

She released her hold after one more squeeze and settled back on her heels, smirk still playing on her lips as she split her attention between Dylan and the girls. "Had lots of fun dragging you and Little Orphan Annie over there back to the puddlejumper." She looked down at him, then jabbed two stiff fingers into his ribs. "The thing they shoot you with, it hurt? Or was it instant nighty-night?"

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Dylan smiled, he was happy to see she was alive. "Actually it was pretty much out. I am guessing it interrupts electrical signals across your entire body, but it doesn't seem to do it by presenting a new electrical charge so it isn't really painful. If you want you could go get your hands on one and I will give you the first hand experience. Now do me a favor before Beckitt gets back. Go get status reports from my team so that I have something to do while I am stuck here."

He didn't think she would but it was worth a try. He was a bit annoyed with her bravado. That classic military if a mission goes well then there is nothing wrong. Even she had to admit that what they had seen was unsettling. Two wraith were almost not taken down by a combined full clip of a P-90. Now it seemed even more important that Dylan figure out something about the ZPMs. They were going to need the resources of earth and until something was done about the power problem they were cut off. Yseult could see in his eyes that he was concerned, almost afraid.

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Yseult snorted, but her own eyes hardened with seriousness. "Take the rest while you can, dipshit. It'll help with preventing mistakes and accidents later on, and you need all the help you can get, from what I've seen." A strong hand on his chest pushed Dylan back down on the cot, the smirk gracing Yseult's lips once more. "And I did bring back one of those Wraith stunner-gun things. Thought you squints would like another toy to play with. I betting one of you will poke an eye out with the damn thing."

Yseult turned her attention to girls, heads together whispering about whatever - she wouldn't have been surprised if it was boys. Nutbar. After a moment, she mumbled something. "That was some pretty good shooting, Dylan." It was a grudging, but said with honesty, if not a great deal of respect.

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Weir frowned a little as she tried to make sense of the girl's confused words. "You aren't... happy... health. You aren't health," Weir said. "We have a health-person, and he'll see to you, please. What are you called?"

As Weir continued to try to coax something sensible out of the girl, a shadow fell over Dylan's bed. He and Yseult turned to watch Major Sheppard lean over Dylan. "So, I heard you got shot by one of those things," Sheppard said to Dylan. With a sparkle of amusement in his eye, he said, "Come find me later. I'll teach you a technique I like to call ducking."

This ribbing wasn't so bad; Sheppard was treating him like a newb soldier, not a civilian. A civilian would have just gotten a polite inquiry into his health; Dylan was getting teased.

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"I am called the Little Queen," she was still fidgeting with her fingers, speaking quietly and watching the room like a rabbit in a fox's den.

She craned her neck around Weir to stare at Dylan and shook her head, stating "He shouldn't get up. He's food now. Food stays in the stasis pods until it's eaten."

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"Regina," Weir repeated, her eyes widening as she worked the translation in her head. Turning to Sheppard, she said in English, "John, come over here, please."

Sheppard exchanged meaningful looks with Yseult and Dylan before moving to Weir's side.

She took Regina gently by the arm. "We will not feed of people here," she said firmly. "Dylan is not food. And Beckett is going to give you an exam now."

She waved to Beckett, who hurried over. "Doctor, give her a full exam. I want to know if anything is wrong with her besides Stockholms." Sheppard's eyebrows rose. "John, keep her under guard."

"Yes, ma'am," he said.

Beckett nodded and steered the girl toward the exam table. "Now, 'his won't hurta bit, Regina," he said soothingly in English, his hands gentle.

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Click to reveal..
1d10=4, 1d10=3, 1d10=6, 1d10=1, 1d10=8, 1d10=2
1 suxx to understand English (and she just fails with Beckett.....)

She let Weir lead her over to the doctor, regarding him with mild confusion as she listened to the babble between the three of them. She couldn't grasp the meaning of his words through the accent, even though she'd done passably well with Yseult's French lilt. So, she simply did as they wanted, accustomed to following intent as much as orders. She pulled herself up on to the exam table with ease and let the odd-sounding man help her lay down.

She glanced over at Weir and continued their conversation, "Of course you don't eat him. You are human. Humans do not eat other humans. He is food for the hive now, for Wraith. The hive is hungry...Wraith are always hungry. You will see." A thought seemed to occur to her, "Wraith are always hungry except when they are not, but that is not often."
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Originally Posted By: Sheppard
"Come find me later. I'll teach you a technique I like to call ducking."

Yseult gave the Major an appreciative once-over and grinned back. "He ain't the only who needs lessons, sir. You almost made it to the puddlejumper before being shot, but close only counts in horseshoes and hand grenades." Yseult was about to over her services as a personal trainer when Weir called Sheppard to her side.

Yseult exchanged a look with him and stood straighter, her gaze settling on the crazy blonde. Regina, she had heard her say while talking to Weir, one of the few words she recognized passing through the blonde's lips. Regina suffered through Beckett's exam with a sense of familiarity while seemingly completely ignoring him as she continued yammering at Weir.

With a pointed glance, Yseult caught Sheppard's eye. "What happened to Colonel Sumner? Didn't make it?"
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Keeping his voice low to prevent it from intruding on Weir’s conversation, Sheppard murmured, “No. He didn't.” There was no doubt more he could say, but he fell silent, his jaw set in a hard line. Clearly, losing Sumner bothered him.

Weir frowned, but she was never one to let a good oppurtunity pass her by. "I see, Regina," she said softly in her slowly-improving Ancient. "We know not much about the Wraith. They are alien to us. Can you tell me more about them?"

Beckett turned on the machine, watching the screens. Though still nervous around Lantan technology, he had made himself get more comfortable with the interfaces provided through his laptop. What he saw took his breath away. "Dr. Weir," he said anxiously, "she's already gotta file."

"A what?"

"The Lantan equipment keeps files on everyone who it reads," he explained, clearly agitated. “It’s already started files on alla us. But she’s already got one. It’s hor’ibly outta date… she wasa chile the last time it took her scans.”

“But it knows it’s her?” Weir asked, frowning.

“Aye. Genetics donna lie.” Beckett blinked. “She maya been a chile when she was last checked but that was a vera long time ago.” He looked at Weir. “She’s vera old, and she’s Lantan.”

“Her!?” Weir asked, unable to hide her shock. The frail-looking, rambling child-woman resembled none of Weir’s notions of them. As Beckett nodded, Weir’s resolve strengthened. “Figure out what’s wrong with her and fix it. We’re going to need her help and knowledge.”

“Oh, an’ her name. It’s noe Regina. It’s Inoae.” Beckett tilted the screen for Weir to see and pointed.

Weir nodded then turned to Inoae. “Inoae, why you did say name is Regina? Is that what the Wraith call you? Tell us what you know.”

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She tilted her head to the side and watched Weir cautiously. "I am the Little Queen. Regina." She spoke carefully, almost by rote, and made no indication that she knew or cared about the other name they'd found.

She sighed in annoyance, but answered Weir's other question as well, "Wraith are Wraith. They are the masters of the galaxy." She propped herself up on her elbows and peered curiously at Weir, "How do you not know this? Wraith are everywhere, everyone knows them."

She frowned, some odd suspicion stealing into her thoughts, "You are being very strange. You ask strange questions. Take me home. The Keeper will send for me; Ghost will come for me. I am supposed to be with Darkness now."

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Yseult nearly choked, hearing Beckett's revelation. "Putain de merde! Her?! Regina - Inoae, whatever the hell batty-blond-Betty is called, she's an Ancient?" Yseult closed her eyes and shook her head, chuckling with grim mirth, then she clapped Sheppard on the shoulder. "Perfect. It's good to know that some things never change, eh, Sheppard? That asshole Murphy and his law followed us all the way to another galaxy."

Though her lips were curved and she wasn't sure she believed this, Yseult studied 'Inoae', reevaluating her. If she was truly a Lantean, then Atlantis may respond to her in ways they didn't know yet. Which would be just wonderful, with her wanting to run back to the Pasty-Faced-People-Eaters.

She nodded at Beckett than glanced significantly at the Lantean scanning device. "These Wraith eat people or whatever, right? Do they tag their cattle, too? Can that machine check to see if Little Miss Lantean here has a RFID chip or some other tracking device implanted inside her?"

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"Get McKay, right now." Weir's voice snapped Sheppard into action; he was already triggering the button on his radio, calling for the scientist as he left the room. Weir turned back to 'Regina', frowning at her.

"Och," Beckett said suddenly, frowning at the scanner.

"Did you find a tracking device?" Weir asked worriedly, coming to peer at his computer.

"No," he said, his voice soft and almost pained. "But someone's been abusin' this lass for a long time. I'm seein' signs o' damage, the kind you get from many beatings, over the course o' years."

"How many?" Weir asked.

Beckett shrugged. "I donne know. T'be honest, I've never seen this much healed damage inna human before. If I had ta guess: decades."

Weir looked horrified. "The more I hear of the Wraith, the more I dislike them," she finally growled. "Do what you can for her."

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Dylan sat up from the bed. "Did you say decades? How old is she?" Without even thinking he got up out of the bed and looking like he still wasn't in full control of his muscles hobbled over. "How long do ancients live? Is it possible she could be a descendant only a few generations removed from the ones who lived here? If she is she might have actually knowledge of the database or maybe some scientific or engineering knowledge that could help us."

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Dylan had only hobbled several steps before a rigid arm thumped him the chest, checking his forward movement. "Where do you think you're going, brainiac?" Yseult growled. "Get back in bed before you fall flat on your face and I'm forced to laugh, watching you crawl." As a show of concern, it seemed to be lacking something.

Yseult tossed her head and glanced back at the supposed Lantean, her raven pony-tail flopping over a broad shoulder. "Beside, the 'tit blonde doesn't even know her name, let alone being able to answer any of your squinty questions. lay back down before I tie you down."

Though Yseult's voice carried a tone of annoyed unconcern, Dylan caught a tightening around his wife's cold, blue eyes as her narrowed gaze lingered on the blond girl. The hand not impeding his progress closed into a fist, the muscles beneath her smooth, tanned skin rippling powerfully.

Her father had abused her mother and had pushed her brutally hard in her gymnastic training. But once he had gone too far, when she had been truly afraid he was going to kill her mother, one he laid a hand on her, she had ended the abuse. Permanently. Her mother hadn't been thankful and she had barely spoken to her since.

Yseult felt the old rage rising, furious with the abuser... And the abused, for tolerating it. Better to fight, even if you have no chance at winning, than submission.

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"Judgin' by her physiological traits,” Dr. Beckett replied, “I’d say she’s in her late teens. Somethin’ has suspended her agin’ significantly. But the computer says she was seven when they left here… so ten thousand an’ seven, give or take.”

There was a long pause. “Ten thousand…?” Weir said, her voice thick with shock.

“Aye,” Beckett said.

“So the Wraith have the Fountain of Youth as well?” Sheppard said, waving at the man following him.

“Who are you?” Weir asked. “Where’s McKay?”

“I am Dr. Zelenka,” the small man said. “Dr. McKay is still coming back from his field trip with the stowaway. “

“Alright. Dr. Zelenka, I need you to scan this woman for transmitters,” Weir told him. As the scientist nodded and got to work, Weir looked at ‘Regina’ again. “Who are you?” she murmured.

After a moment Zelenka said, “I can find nothing. I believe she is clear.”

The room relaxed. “Thank you Doctor,” Weir said. She looked at Sheppard. “Have Bates arrange for around-the-clock surveillance of her. I don’t like being so inhospitable, but she seems to have Stockholms. Also, get her to Dr. Heightmeyer as soon as she’s settled. I want her to start therapy on her immediately.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” Sheppard said, nodding.

Weir looked to the others. “Does anyone have more suggestions?”

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Yseult glanced the nutty blonde, her mouth dropping open, flabbergasted. Inoae-Regina-Whatever-the-Fuck-her-name-was didn't look much more than a teenager, pretty and slender (if with scrabbled brains).

Ten thousand years?! Looks good, I'd like the secret. Prime of life for millenia? Oui, s'il vous plais. Hold the side order of Crazy, merci.

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"I'm hoping that you're right Dylan. Her knowledge of not just Atlantis but the Wraith as well," Dr. Weir said. "I want her seen to and... deprogrammed as soon as it can be arranged. Let's get to it." She leaned forward and put a hand on 'Regina's' arm. "You're safe now," she said firmly in Lantean. "I swear it."

She really hoped she wasn't lying - to any of them.

Click to reveal..
This officially closes the thread. I'll keep it open for people to continue RP for a bit.

4 xp

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