Aberrant: StarGate Atlantis - S1:E1 - Rising

[Dawn OOC]

It was chaos, pure chaos. The deep halls of the lower levels of the SGC rarely saw activity like this. There had been that relief effort to PX-9923, but that was nothing compared to the task of outfitting two hundred fifty brave souls for unknowable dangers. People were everywhere, pushing crates of supplies or carrying boxes. It seemed to be pointless and mindless, but there was an odd control in it. The military had long learned the fine art of juggling the uncontrollable movements of chaos with the controllable rhythms of strict regime. The result was something that seemed to be teetering on the brink of entropy, yet still kept rolling in the right direction.

To the civilians selected for this mission, it seemed overwhelming. There was no extra room and no place to stop and get away from people. Every ounce of space here was dedicated to crates and boxes. The military-minded simply went with the flow, doing their assigned duties and staying out of the way of others doing their duties. The more savvy civilians attempted the same, with less effect.

Those walking through the corridors caught smatterings of conversation from the harried workers, all trying to meet the goal set by General O'Neill and the expedition's leader, Dr. Elizabeth Weir. It was the eleventh hour, and people were frantic to not be the cause of any delay.

"-- only had about a week to get all the samples. I don't know--"

"-- thinking! This is monumental, and I can only bring one computer, and a laptop at that--"

"-- don't run out of bullets." "Sir, I hope we don't need to use a single bullet, myself."

"-- I turn off my iron?! Someone, I need a phone to call my sister and get her--"

"I don't understand-- does anyone else here speak whatever language these guys are speaking--"

In the gate room, there was even more control of the chaos. Col. Sumner was there, issuing orders with the confidence gained from years of military service. "You have five minutes to get it working or I'm leaving it," he informed two civilian technicians, then walked around to talk to Bates and Dr. Beckett. Whatever was said, the conversation was short and the good doctor wasn't pleased.

In the control room, O'Neill and Weir were discussing the imminent departure. "We'll be ready as soon as McKay is set up," she told him, barely hiding her eager nervousness.

In the electrical room, McKay, Sylar and several other technicians hovered around the ZPM and its home-brewed adapter. No one was sure it would work, save perhaps Dr. McKay, whose belief in his own abilities was only rivaled by the smug attitudes of some pilots. When the ZPM connected with the StarGate and began to hum with power, glowing softly, he grinned as proudly as a father facing a new borne. "Oh yeah," he smarmed, grinning widely.
 

Feel free to describe what you're doing prior to Elizabeth getting the mission underway. This is a chance to connect to your PCs and get into their skin -- and their last moments on Earth. I'll be moving this along again in a couple of days. Enjoy.

 

[Goro Kondo]

"You heard the Colonel gentlemen. Dial out is in less than five minutes. Stow the gear. Now." Bates' hand strayed toward the P90 he had strapped across his chest in a slant. It was unthinkable that he'd so much as lay a hand on it in aggression but the message was clear.

"Aye, fine. Have it your way." Beckett replaced the cover on the crate he had open and nodded to Goro who was his second in charge of the medical detachment.

Goro nodded and closed the lid on the case he was peering into. Surgical supplies mostly. "The military wills and the civilians obey," Goro intoned with a great deal of mock seriousness and a look of stoicism. Beckett knew Goro well enough to catch the upturned corner of the Japanese man's mouth and he smiled in return at the joke.

Bates, not possessed of any discernible sense of humor, or personality that the two doctors could tell simply gave a satisfied nod before catching sight of somebody trying to tie something down onto one of the cargo MALPs. "Hey! Don't ..." with a growl he stalked off, not even sparing another look to Carson or Goro.

Goro picked up the backpack and settled its weight back into his shoulders. Beckett did likewise and Goro spied for the first time the two long shafts of a fishing pole sticking up from the man's pack. "Fishing pole? Is that your personal item?"

"Aye, nothing finer than a afternoon fishing."

"And if there's no water?" Goro asked almost apologetically, his tone and manner gentle.

"It's called Atlantis Doctor, if there's no water where else will the city be? A desert?" Beckett and Goro shared a laughed at the thought.

"OK. Point taken." Goro shifted his own pack again, a frown causing a series of wrinkles to deepen on his face as he stove to find a comfortable arrangement. "A man's got to have a hobby I suppose."

"What about you Goro? What's your one luxury? Your desert island must have?"

Again they shared a mutual laugh at the thought of Atlantis stuck in a desert. Finally Goro replied, "A piano actually. If I couldn't play I think I'd go mad within a week."

"Are you sure you're not mad already? A piano in your backpack?"

Goro smiled, "It's only a little one. I could show you but I'm not trained as a vet." Carson's look of confusion made Goro smile a little more, deepening the wrinkles around his eyes. "The good colonel would have kittens." Together they laughed again, the sound in stark contrast to the chaos around them.

[Sgt. Yseult Moreau]

Yseult curled her lip as she watched Bates stalked off, growling, noting the stiffness to his stride. There was one who didn't like to be denied, especially to his face, in front of others. She glanced down at her knuckles, a hard grin on her face. Too bad for him. At least I went easy on him.

The tall, young sergeant stood with graceful ease amidst the structured chaos, well acquainted with the military's policy of hurry-up-and-wait. Let the civilians run around like bleating sheep, as long as they stayed out of the way on the other side until the area was secured. Escort missions almost always sucked, the charge rarely doing as they were told, but for the opportunity this one granted, she'd deal with it. As long as the squints laid off on the poking and prodding - just because she possessed this AT-AT gene or what ever, didn't give them carte blanche to steal her blood.

Her obviously strong and curvaceous figure, clad in snug green-mottled BDUs and web-harness, drew more than one set of eyes, either in admiration or potential as a stevedore, if the ease with which she carried the heavy pack across her back was any indication. But as soon as one of the civilians headed her way, they quickly veered off, having second thoughts about asking her for help or a date. Maybe it was the way her hand rested with casually familiarity on the P-90 slung across her chest or the feeling of her icy blue eyes boring into them, felt even though they were hidden behind a pair of mirrored raybans. Regardless, it was enough to stop them in their tracks, and that suited her fine.

Her gaze swept the Gate Room with smooth and precise arcs, everything falling under carefully scrutiny. As her gaze passed Lt. Ford, she gave him a nod and a teasing smirk. Now, that man had been worth the tumble last night. Exuberant, good stamina, handy in a brawl, and appreciative of a strong woman. Some men got weird about that and tried to insist on being on top. To hell with that.

Her gaze continued on, noting a new arrival entering the gate room, face hidden by his hair and the angle she had. Then he turned and she froze, her instinctive grace fleeing for a moment in utter shock. She knew that face. She was very much hoping to have been a galaxy away from that face in the immediate future.

Câlice de tabarnak de sacrament. Qu'est que le batard fils de salope faissez ici?

Yseult stalked forward in a pantherish glide, people getting out of her way as they intuitively reacted to the irritated fury emanating from her. Dylan barely had time to look around before he felt a strong hand knotting his top, finding the striking face of the woman who was technically his wife mere inches away from his own.

"What... the fuck... are you doing here... Dylan?" Yseult growled at her unintentional - and unwanted - husband, husky alto thick with her French accent. She suddenly wanted one of the smokes from the cartons she had packed away as her luxury item.

[Forge]

Vinny had the luxury of delegation. Being a Captain might mean paperwork and lots of red-faced meetings with Colonels and Generals, but it also meant he got to stand around and look important. Being a pilot also meant that most people assumed he didn't have the training to handle anything more complicated than a joystick, which was fine. Unfortunately for most, that came off as him being a smug, arrogant asshole...but he was fine with that too.

He padded over his BDU's making sure he had stuffed every last pocket with cigar's. He hit his harmonica too in the process, causing it to shift slightly, but a quick clench ceased its movement.

One personal item, my ass.........c'mon ass-tard, that was lame.

Nonchalantly, he reached a hand back and readjusted the harmonica into his waistband. He glanced around and scowled at anyone who dared to look at him, his glare warding off a misplaced comment they would regret. The guitar slung across his back in a case was also housing a supply of cigars, the empty interior of the custom Gibson J45 neatly packed with stogies disguised as packing material.

That fuckin' chick better let me smoke there. Vinny glanced up into the control room at Weir. He was nearly sick when he heard who had been put in charge. It was hard enough that they would have more civilians than military personnel, but this was going to be brutal. A 'negotiator'?

Might as well drop trou' and hand the Vaseline to whatever tentacle-faced ass-tard over there. Hope there's somethin' to fly away. Iffen'm lucky, it'll be the whole fuckin' city...

[Dylan Harvey]

Dylan looked over the reports he had been handed. Looking at two of the members that had been assigned to his team, he gave them an approving nod.

"This all looks good. If Dr. Kavanagh is right we should have some fun new toys to try to reverse engineer there. Make sure all the gear is secured that we need." As the two nodded and turned to leave he spoke up again. "And people, we are heading to another galaxy to possibly the most high tech city ever built. Try to smile and look like you are having fun." There seemed to still be some discomfort. The five people working under him were all older than he was. A couple of them even had more official education. They didn't seem resentful, just unsure of how to act around him. Walking through the halls he spotted his department head.

"Dr. Kavanagh, everything is ready for our department. We are good to go sir." The man took the reports and thanked Dylan. With nothing else to do but wait Dylan headed to the gate room. This was his first chance to see the stargate in person. It was an amazing device. The very idea of something that created and sustained stable worm holes was just amazing. He had been told most people had trouble gripping the truth of the whole situation but Dylan was only excited. Understanding higher levels of technology had become his life and this was the greatest challenge ever. He couldn't wait to get his hands on a zero point module and try to build a new one.

"What... the fuck... are you doing here... Dylan?" He hadn't heard that voice in a year. Turning he saw his wife Yseult, at least on paper. He couldn't help but smile warmly despite her obvious anger.

"Why hello dear! I didn't realize you were going on this mission. I was brought in on it just a couple days ago. Turns out I have the Ancient Technology Activation Gene, and as you well know I am the best reverse engineer on this planet. So it seems Dr. Weir thought I would be a good addition to the expedition." Dylan turned his attention back to the stargate. He couldn't help but try to figure out how to rebuild it with current earth technology. It was indeed a challenge but if he wanted any hope of being able to convert ancient tech. this seemed like a good place to start.

"Well I am glad we are both going. Maybe in another galaxy we can find some time to try to work out the problems between us. You know I have missed you. However if you want to make a scene right here and beat the crap out of me I am sure that won't get you left behind. I am certain they won't in any look down on a military person ruffing up one of the scientist before the gate is even warmed up."

[Sgt. Yseult Moreau]

Dylan felt Yseult's grip on his shirt grow even tighter and for a long moment he struggled to keep the warm grin on his face, sure this modern-day Valkyrie was going to indeed decide on beating the crap out of him and damn the consequences. But then her own desire to be involved in the Pegasus Mission overcame the satisfaction she would have had knocking that grin off of Dylan's face.

Yseult gave an irritated snort and released her hold on Dylan, shoving him back. "Bloody Hell, you fucking prick," Yseult snarled, keeping to voice low to avoid being overheard. She pulled her mirrored shades off, hooking them on a pocket. Her frosty-eyed glare gave them a bit of space in the turmoil of the Gate Room.

"There's no problems to work out, you little shit, I just need you to sign the fucking papers." Yseult grunted, folding her arms, icy blue eyes boring into the annoyingly self-confident young man, hardly more than a boy, really. Still annoyingly cute, too. Damn him! "Damn you! Mon Dieu! We had some fun in Vegas, we fucked, and you got to lose your cherry to an experienced woman. Congratulations. Now move on. I have."

Yseult gaze shifted, a tight grin on her lips as she nodded at Lt. Ford, before returning her eyes on Dylan. "There's just one drunken mistake between us, and it's easily remedied."

[Dawn OOC]

"Can I have everyone's attention, please." Weir's voice rose with practiced ease over the sounds of people talking and moving around the GateRoom. The crowd looked at her as she stood on the slope of the ramp. "We're about to attempt a connection. We've been unable to predict the energy requirements, so we may only have one shot at this," she announced, her voice brusque and full of command. "We're not risking shutting down the wormhole. The MALP will go through the Gate, and if it's safe, we'll follow."

She paused and looked around at all the gathered people. "You were all selected for this mission because you're the best and the brightest from across the globe. And as far as I'm concerned, you're also the bravest.

"I hope we return someday, with new discoveries for humanity to explore, but we may never be able to return home." The silence was heavy as everyone listened to her words, and her somber mood spread through them. "I'd like to offer you the chance to withdraw your participation." She fell silent, waiting for anyone to leave. Not a single person budged, and Weir smiled proudly. "Begin the dialing sequence."

She left the ramp and went up to the Command Room. O'Neill looked down at Walter and said, "Dial 'er up."

Every eye turned back to the StarGate as Walter made good on the order. At first, it was all normal - the ring spun and the chevrons locked. The anticipation built, and everyone expected something, anything other than the eighth chevron encoding as quietly as the other seven. The wormhole formed, bulged into the room and then settled into place, a deceptively tranquil pool of blue light.

The watching soldiers and civilians cheered happily, then fell silent again as the MALP jerked into motion. Anxiously, they waited, turning back to peer up at the control room for a sign. When Weir’s face adopted a nervous, eager smile, they had their answer.

The mission was on.

Sumner began to bark orders – they were typical for this situation, and given mostly for the civilians. Security first, everyone to follow on their signal. Keep moving. Clear the Gate so that others could come through.

Weir was back down in the GateRoom with alacrity, shrugging into her pack and catching up with the Marines about to enter the wormhole. “We go together,” she said, clearly enough that everyone heard. Sumner’s reply was too soft to be heard, but since he didn’t shot her, it was probably assent.

The first security team was first with Dr. Weir; tense moments passed before the all-clear was given. The second security team followed, and then everyone else began to file up the ramp. For those who had ridden the StarGate Express before, this ride was different. The perception of it was unusual, and that alone was enough to make them aware that this was truly not your average expedition.

Once through, the expedition had their first look at Atlantis – a large room with the StarGate at one end. Stairs in front of the StarGate went up, while flanking stairs around the room went down. A level above them held consoles and an office; it was Altantis’ equivalent of a control room. A strange silver cloth had been spread over all but two of the consoles.

The room was dark, but lights were snapping on throughout the area, slowly bathing the area in illumination.

Click to reveal..

Feel free to give your character’s impressions and actions both before and after their arrival in Atlantis.

[Goro Kondo]

As the Stargate dialed the address for Atlantis Goro considered the events of the past couple of weeks that brought him here. The point of origin chevron locked into place and an explosion of destabilized subatomic particles blew out of the ring in a vortex as the wormhole formed. Goro shrank back in startled alarm, nobody had told him what to expect. He watched the robot trundle through and then with apparently good telemetry the military began to file through the gate with some of the civilian sections heads. Weir, Beckett, Rodney McKay, and others went through early on, their expertise needed with the city or to be able to direct their subordinates on the other side.

Goro and the other medical staff waited for their turn. One of the young nurses seemed uneasy, nervous or perhaps scared. Goro put a reassuring hand on her shoulder, "Everything OK?" he asked. She nodded and gave him a smile that didn't seem convinced. Goro smiled warmly in return, "It'll be fine. The military has been using the Stargate for years now with not a speck of trouble. We're surrounded by trained soldiers to protect us, technicians who are experts in their fields and have extensive experience with the technology, and a world class, or maybe I should say a Galactic class medical crew, yourself included." He spared a glance to the others on his team and the rest of the medical staff, some he knew some were new to him. "Dr. Beckett and I have the highest confidence in you all and the military and IOA have the highest confidence in all of us," he offered another smile, this one broad and full of humor. "Now we're going to need to buck up and be ready because it won't take long for somebody to get a sniffle or a sprain. OK?"

The all nodded and the nurse, and others, seemed to relax visibly at least some. Goro nodded and turned to look up at the gate again, the shimmering pool looked like water. He shook his head in amazement. They were next and in short order Goro led the doctors and nurses up the ramp and through the Stargate. It was like stepping from one room into another, the transition was almost seamless. In the space of a step they went from the concrete bunker of Stargate Command under Cheyenne Mountain to the dimly lit gate-room of the lost city of Atlantis. Goro looked up and around, still moving forward but taking in the surroundings.

The floor was smooth and reddish brown with an odd shadow lying across the floor. The others who had gone ahead were already moving up and into the control room above. Goro saw somebody removing sheets from panels. He turned and caught sight of Carson. Nodding to the other man he began to direct the medical staff to him and out of the way of the gate. "Simply amazing," he breathed in Japanese as the lights began to come to life, first illuminating the stairs and the halls and then the room itself.

Goro himself couldn't help but gawk at the surroundings on the edge of the gate platform. Dr. Weir came down from the control room as, what looked like, a bottle of Champagne rolled out of the gate. Shortly thereafter the event horizon imploded and seemed to evaporate leaving the gate an empty ring through which one could see floor to ceiling windows behind it. Goro noted that it seemed they were underwater. "The city that sunk beneath the waves indeed," he commented again in Japanese, still simply amazed that this was real and not a dream.

[Sgt. Yseult Moreau]

Before Dylan had a chance to reply to his erstwhile wife, Weir moved to the Gate ramp and began addressing the Atlantis Expedition. Yseult pointed a rigid finger at the young prodigy and hissed softly at him, "Later, we're going to deal with... whatever it is we have between us and that'll be that, 'tit connard. Right now, I'm busy."

Yseult whirled and glided up near Colonel Sumner, taking her place with Security Team One. Sumner had been reluctant to add anyone to the security teams outside of the American Military, but her skills as a pointman could not be denied and in the month she'd had to train and acclimatize herself with Gate travel, she had readily proven herself. She gazed at the shimmering blue pool of the StarGate, her face bearing an expression of cool equanimity.

She stood with effortless ease, flanking Dr. Weir, opposite Bates, P-90 held up in sure, comfortable grip. Sumner raised his own hardware and with no other fanfare, they stepped through the gate, the rippling appearance of the gate inflicting a chill tingling as it passed over their skin.

The trip to another galaxy took no more time than a single step. On the other side, the security teams immediately began to fan out, the lights on the end of their P-90s panning in smooth arcs as they canvased the open area extending around the StarGate. With the limited amount of time they had to power the Gate, when no initial hostilities were encountered, Sumner gave the go ahead for the Expedition to head through the Gate.

As the rest of the personnel began filing through, Yseult was securing the far left flank, heading down one of the halls branching from the Control Room. She moved with soundless, graceful strides, studying her surroundings with methodical, clinical detachment. Only a flicker of an eyelid betrayed her thoughts as a thrumming began reverberating throughout the complex, lights turning on and dispelling the dimness.

Her icy blue eyes swiveled with professional regard as she looked for any signs of enemies or immediate danger. A piece of wall hissed open at her approach, the barrel of her gun turning with mechanical precision as she peered inside the small space revealed. Elevator, maybe? She'd really take a look at what was apparently Atlantis later, when she wasn't concerned about getting shot or something else unexpected trying to kill her. And face it, pretty much everything on the other side of the StarGate was unexpected.

Sharp eyes heard unconcerned footsteps following in her wake, much sooner than she wished. Those weren't unexpected, unfortunately. Damned scientists and civilians. By the time the hallway led to a larger room, she had a pair of them practically stepping on her heels.

"Step the fuck back, now!" Yseult growled without looking back. "I'd rather shoot you myself than let something sneak on me... On us." Hearing them shuffle several steps back - not enough, but it would do for now - she ignored whatever indignant noises they were making.

As flood lights began igniting, it was revealed that the large open area contained what appeared to be vessels, somewhat cylindrical. She was sure the squints had a technical term for the shape, but fuck'em, they were somewhat cylindrical. Spacecraft, I gues-

"They look like ships...Spaceships!" "I luv eet."

Goddammit! "Goddammit! What did I just say? Anything could be hiding in here. If we're really lucky, its diet will consist solely of squint meat. Now, step back!"

"But, there's-" "Miss, please-"

"Now!"

After scaring them off all of three yards, Yseult circled one of the pods. At her proximity, lights glowed to life and the rear hatch slid down with a soft shish. She brought her P-90 up to bear as she took a sliding step back, bumping into a yielding obstruction. With a string a French invective, she jabbed back with a hard elbow into the yielding surface, only slightly mollified by the strangled grunt that ensued.

"Miss, you evidently possess the ATA gene. Do you think you can manage to activate this-"

"Piss off! Not now! No flying-warping-whatever-the-hell these things do. If you fuckers don't back off now, I'm gonna cuff the pair of you to the damned StarGate."

"I sincerely doubt you have access to any handcuffs-"

"Zip-ties are wonderful things." The scientists finally began to take her threats seriously and stepped back to the entrance of the hangar.

"Security Teams, report," Colonel Sumner's voice commanded over the radio.

"Ice, reporting. I've found what appears to be a hangar, situated above the Control Room." She glared at the scientists, where they were already edging back into the room. Sigh. "All clear."

[Dylan Harvey]

Dylan stepped up to the event horizon and stopped. He marveled at it. Faster than light travel was one thing, but with wormhole travel it was near instantaneous from one point to another. If only he had the time to get inside and see how it worked. The voice of Rodney Mckay came up behind him.

"Would you just go. You don't need to act like this is the first stabilized worm hole event horizon you have ever seen."

"Well it turns out this is the first stabi...." Mckay shoved him through before he could finish. As he stumbled through the other side he quickly moved out of the way and stood there waiting for the disorientation to wear off. He looked around the large room. Spotting his team he walked over to them.

"Alright guys our first job is to locate the ZPM room and check the status of the cities power grid. With the gate here and they said a command center up the stairs the power center shouldn't be too far off. Bill your with me, Jackie and Gregory you two look around this area. Bill we are going to see if about heading to a lower level below this room."

[z-Olivia Jenings-Izumi]

Olivia had been in her share of frightening situations. Carl alone had shown her more fear than she cared to remember, but this utter, crushing sense of loss and helplessness was something new. The last time she'd felt this way was during her first encounter with Carl. At least then, she had a hope of it ending, and she'd known Dom was safe.

She was trying really hard not to think about her son, because that would send her into a mad panic. She was pretty sure that when she didn’t come to pick him up, someone would take care of him and call her parents, but she couldn’t be sure. Carl could be very persuasive when he wanted to be and Ms. Jackie, Dom’s teacher, was a sweet, naïve girl fresh out of college. Relentlessly, her mind played over that painful scenario; forcefully, she cast it away. It wouldn’t happen if she could find the StarGate and dial home in the next four hours. Olivia basked in the hope of taking her son out to his favorite restaurant for dinner, if she were careful and smart.

She’d drawn the straps on her bag up tight and tucked her wrist over it. It still throbbed painfully, but holding it somewhat still helped with the soreness. She could move her fingers and rotate her hand, so she was sure it wasn’t broken. But it wasn’t in good shape either; she could tell it was swelling. She’d probably sprained it.

There was less to do for her knee; she wondered if the sudden change in atmosphere and pressure had set off the old ache again. It didn’t matter. She had to walk, and no crutches were forthcoming. Olivia limped along, bearing her weight on her right as much as she could.

She continued on, down endless, similar hallways. The staircase was a relief; it was made of metal and reminded her of emergency stairs, but more importantly, it was something new. It represented the hope that she was actually getting somewhere. Suddenly, she realized she had been walking around without paying enough attention to where she was going. “Oh, goddamnit, Olivia!” she snapped at herself. “Way to fucking go!”

With a huffing sigh, she sat down on the steps, putting her head in her hands. “Alright,” she said softly. “Stop and think.”

Wherever she was, it was a place built by the Ancients. That alone was apparent from the technology and architecture. That would help; it would make some things easier to predict. For example, if she were looking for the StarGate, she should probably keep going up. The Ancients were a lofty people; they tended to put their important things in high places. “I hate stairs,” she growled, even as she dug out a post it note and stuck it to the hand rail. She drew an arrow, pointing back the way she came, so that she’d have some chance of finding her way back to where she’d been before. It was a small hope, but she wanted to give herself every chance of getting home.

Taking a deep breath, she started to climb.

[Forge]

Bout goddamn time.

Vinny saw Weir talking, but most of it was no more than background buzz as he mentally prepped himself.

They made up their minds, and they started packing...They left before the sun came up that day...

S'pose it's time since she shut up.

Picking up his P90 from where it was propped against the wall, he put on his helmet and secured the chinstrap.

Never ride without protection.

He shouldered his way past those that didn't move out of his way until he was up with his 'wave'. The last chevron locked and the intergalactic scrubbing bubbles flushed out into the room before coming back to rest, leaving an otherwise normal looking stable wormhole.

Fucker's not even a different color. Ass-tard Ancients.

People filed through eagerly or apprehensively, mostly in direct proportion to their experience with the Gate. Vinny walked up the ramp with a knowing calmness. Telling himself that this was just like any other time.

Gonna hafta start a new counter for a different galaxy, not fuckin' fair.

There was a brief icy sensation of crossing the through the glistening, watery surface and then Vinny was in Atlantis, or at least, that's where everyone thought they were.

One.

He moved out of the path of incoming traffic and proceeded with his orders, fanning out and securing the room of the Gate itself.

But where were they going without ever knowing the way?

[Dawn OOC]

“Actually, Harvey,” Cavaungh said from behind Dylan, “I believe that my team is going to find the ZPM room, if that’s what’s powering this place.” When Dylan looked at the man, he shoved his glasses up his nose and added, “Unless your special relationship to Dr. Weir gives you the privilege of not checking with your department head for instructions.”

It was a dirty, petty move. Without coming out and saying what was going on, Cavaungh had countermanded Dylan in front of the rest of his team and cast doubt on his presence here. He’d heard that Cavaungh played academic politics but this was the first time he’d been directly exposed to them. Worse, Cavaungh was right about being the department head of Engineering. McKay might be the head of all the scientists, but Cavaungh was the head of this department. As Dylan wondered what he’d done wrong to end up working directly under two assholes, Cavaungh added, “You should start checking out the gear. Make sure it all came through in one piece.” He turned back to his team and started to stalk away, leaving Dylan and his team behind to do the grunt work.

Thirty minutes after arriving

The medical staff were milling around, checking the equipment and waiting for permission to move out. Goro found his own personal skills at charming and calming were in need; now that they were here, people weren’t so much scared as impatient. But there was nothing to do until the military grunts had found the medbay and cleared it of danger.

Thirty minutes after their arrival, they were given the all clear, to everyone’s surprise. The medbay was only a couple of levels down from the control room. As they hauled their gear down the stairs and into their new digs, the team marveled at the spacious area. The ceilings were high and well-lit, giving the area a sense of space. There were several branching rooms off the area, enough that they had space for surgical wards, a microbiology lab, a small conference room, with offices for Dr. Beckett and Dr. Kondo and a staff room for the other doctors and the nurses.

Click to reveal..

Jim put his point of Sanctum into the Medbay, hence why it’s a bit different from the show.

“Well, I donne know boot anyone else, but I’m dyin’ to git unpacked,” Beckett said, rubbing his hands together and looking like it was Christmas morning. His team agreed and dug in.

They’d barely started when one of the marines came hustling up. “Belay that unpacking,” he ordered. “The sq- scientists say that the batteries are low in this place, and we might have to roll out quickly. Dr. Weir says to get emergency kits ready, but leave the diagnostic equipment packed.”

One hour after arriving

The wormhole closed behind Sumner and his team, taking the hope of the people of Atlantis with them. The crew in the control room watched with envious eyes before turning back to their tasks.

Grodin straightened sudden. “McKay,” he called, making the pugnacious scientist jump.

“What now?” McKay barked.

“I think I found internal sensors.”

“You have or you think?” McKay growled. “Because one is good while the other is useless.”

“I have it, but I’m reading life on one of the lower levels, one were our teams haven’t cleared yet,” Grodin replied.

By now, his words had caught Weir’s attention, and she stepped forward, peering at the panel with them. “Figure out if that is someone or a glitch,” Weir ordered.

“It’s real,” McKay said, his voice excited. “It might be an Ancient!”

“Which security team is closest to that?” Weir asked, staring at the dot.

Grodin checked. “Stackhouse’s,” he replied. “But they’re probably hours away from it. This tower is incredibly tall.”

“All of them are. The Lanteans never did anything small. Send Stackhouse and his team to check it out,” Weir ordered. “Tell him to be careful.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

One hour, fifteen minutes after arriving

“Here.” Dylan looked up from his inventory as McKay set a bundle down on the table he was using.

Already cranky from his reaming by Cavaungh, Dylan wasn’t in the mood to deal with the smug Science Lead. “What’s that?” he grunted, not bothering to stop his work.

“That,” McKay said with emphasis, “is one of the depleted Zed-PMs. Feel free to see if your team can figure out how it works. Just… be careful. We don’t know that whatever the Ancients used as battery acid is as safe as our version.”

Dylan looked up at him, confused. After McKay had bombed Dylan’s dissertation, the young man figured that the guy was an asshole who had it in for him. “Won’t Cavaungh want that?” he asked.

“Well, I’m Cavaungh’s boss, and I want you to do it.” Looking a little sick, McKay added, “Maybe if we have to abandon Atlantis, we can still learn something to get us home.”

Two hours after arriving

“Cpt. Wright, right?” The one person Vinny never wanted to talk to was looking at him, her clear gray eyes meeting his boldly. He’d made a point to avoid Dr. Weir; the last person he’d ever willingly associate with was a fuckin’ mediator.

“Yeah,” he grunted, rolling his unlit cigar around to let the words escape around its rolled length. He waited for her to order him to put it away.

“I’ve been told that there are spaceships up one level, and with Major Sheppard gone, you’re the ranking pilot. Since you have the ATA gene, I’d like you to take a look at them and determine if they’re flight-worthy. We might need them get everyone out of here.”

Vinny had heard of the depleted ZPMs and the problem of the tons of water held back only by a failing shield. He’d wanted to go with the team to find a new one, but Sumner hadn’t selected anyone but his hand-picked goons, and Vinny wasn’t as pretty enough to be Weir’s pet soldier. Fuckin’ pretty boys. “Sure,” he rumbled, surprised that she was making the offer to him. She had to have read his file; she had to know his feelings on people like her. But he wasn’t going to question it. Anything was better than standing around the Command Center, guarding a bunch of eggheads while they poked at the Atlantis computers. And he could think of no better place to sneak a cigar than in a spaceship hanger bay.

“Thank you, Captain,” she answered before walking away, her mind already leaping ahead to the next emergency waiting for her attention.

Four hours after arriving

She’d stopped climbing forty minutes ago. She’d promised herself a short break, but when the twenty minutes had passed, she couldn’t summon the strength to continue. She was, as Grandmother Jenings would have said, ‘played out’. Sweat had finally stopped pouring off her body, leaving her feeling a little cooler, at least. She really needed to be in better shape before trying to climb fifty hundred million stairs, or how ever many she’d just traversed.

Her watch beeped at her, a mocking tone. Somewhere far away, a young boy was waiting to be picked up from school. Tears rose in her eyes; Olivia had failed him completely. She drew up her good knee and wept into her skirt, angry at everything, hungry, dehydrated, exhausted and sore in body and soul.

Four hours, thirty minutes after arriving

The stairs in this place were a bitch. As almost everyone else was getting their first break in an incredibly long day and as Sheppard slept as the guest of an unknown ally, Stackhouse’s team was still going. Even Sgt. Moreau was starting to feel an ache in her legs from the constant walking down the stairs, and she was very fit. She hoped they’d find the intruder soon; she wanted dinner, a smoke and a warm cot.

As if her thoughts had summoned their prey, they came around a turn on the stairs and found her. A petite, dark-skinned woman was huddled against the wall, unconscious or asleep. There was an exotic cast to her face, and she was wearing clothes styled remarkably similar to Earth’s. Even the laptop bag over her shoulder was clearly of Earth-origin with its makers logo emblazoned on the front flap. The final nail in the theory that they had found a Lantean was the Area 51 ID badge hanging from a lanyard around her neck.

[Sgt. Yseult Moreau]

"I don't think this is the Lantean we're looking for," Yseult said blandly.

She was actually quite pissed - it looked like one of the squints had slipped pass the secured areas and managed to find the express way down the damned tower. Probably ended up hurting herself or lost and in her rush to poke her nose into things, hadn't bothered with a radio. Though now that she thought about it, she didn't remember anyone on the expedition from Area 51. Not that she paid that much attention to the civilians and scientists.

Yseult glided forward, movements smooth and fluid despite the growing burn in her legs, P-90 held down, but ready to swing up in a split second. She crouched slightly to read the ID hanging around her neck. "Anyone recognize an Olivia Jenings-Izumi?" Yseult asked the team and over the radio, using a boot to sharply nudge the slouched figure against the wall.

"Hey, you! Wake up! You better be able to walk or know where the bloody elevators are, 'cause I ain't carrying you up the fucking tower."

[Dylan Harvey]

Dylan's fingers twitched slightly as he opened the box. This was the real big picture. If Dylan understood properly liquid naquada in one form or another powered most of the ancient technology a long time ago that the Goa'uld had taken over. After that they used a crystalline form of power storage much like everything else. But every big thing they had was powered by these. When Dylan had seen the power requirement to open a worm hole to another galaxy he knew how important it would be to figure out how these things worked. They wouldn't let him get near the one in Antarctica, too worried it might break. He understood that, reverse engineer was not always a precise science and sometimes you could not guarantee the original product would still function.

Dylan's mind raced at what could be done with just one fully operation Zero Point Module dedicated to earth and not just the outpost. Hell if he was right about its capabilities one of these could power the planet for decades. Now that was a scientific advance worthy of the history books. "Sir?" He was broken out of his musings by his team. He was still just sitting there with the open box and looking at the ZPM. He might have been embarrassed but he could see a similar wonder in their eyes too. He had picked these three people for his team for this very purpose, and they knew it. Each of them were leaders in the engineering world in one focus or another.

"Alright everyone, Dr. Mckay is right. We have no idea whats really inside one of these so lets proceed cautiously. It is not like we have a set deadline. I will keep checking all the gear, I want every scan you can think of that doesn't require the lab being set up yet. Then I want the scans done again and if there are any anomalies run a third one." Most of this had been done on earth, but Dylan started every project from scratch. In his mind you only used data already collected if you intended to reach the same conclusion. The current belief was these were beyond Earth's capabilities. Dylan intended to prove them wrong.

As his team went to work the awe of his new prize wore off and Dylan started thinking. What was wrong with Mckay? If the ZPM was depleted what was powering the city? Surely something this size was beyond the capability of a ZPM to power alone. Had they found more to replace it with? If the system took more than one it would only make since if one was depleted then so were the others. Why would they have to abandon Atlantis? Suddenly Dylan wondered if there was something a little more important then running base scans and checking gear that he could be doing. Seeing his team wouldn't need him for awhile he headed for the control room to seek out Rodney.

[z-Olivia Jenings-Izumi]

There were voices around her, but Olivia didn’t care. She was too tired and waking up meant fully feeling the pain dulled by sleep. She wasn’t comfortable, not enough for deep sleep, but it was enough after her exhausting day for a heavy dose. The voices were bugging the hell out of her, but she didn’t stir until she heard her name. She didn’t wake fast enough to escape the indignity of a boot pushing against her hip.

Startled, Olivia jerked and put out her arm to brace herself. She’d been leaning against her right side and the arm that moved to support her was her left. The moment she tried to use it, she cried out in pain, taking a look at it. “Oh, fu… ow,” she muttered, cradling it.

“Are you hurt?” one of the men asked her, kneeling next to her.

Olivia nodded, taking a look at his insignia. “I sprained my wrist, Sergeant.” Saying her dog’s name jolted her into action. “Where’s… is this part of SGC?”

“SGC?” The man frowned. “Wrong galaxy, ma’am.” He frowned. “You aren’t in uniform. How’d you get here?”

“Wrong… what?” Olivia whispered, her dark skin paling rapidly.

[Dawn OOC]

McKay was in the center of things, and the more Dylan paid attention, the more he realized that something was wrong. He’d passed the window with the aquatic view, and had figured out that was the shield they were talking about. As he came into Command, he was startled to find that the tension was palatable. Aside from McKay and the engineers, no one was doing much, save looking very worried and failing to hide it very well.

Dylan sidled up to Elizabeth and murmured, “So… what’s going on?”

Elizabeth looked at him, her expression still worried. “The city was run by three ZPMs,” she murmured softly in reply. “Two are depleted, and the third is dying. When it does, the shields keeping the water back will fall, and we’ll have a new problem.”

“What’s being done?” Dylan asked. Shifting slightly, he moved to stand in front of her so he could look her in the eye. “Better question: what can I do?”

Elizabeth blinked and said, “Help McKay, if you can.” She looked tired, and Dylan wondered how long she’d been going. “We have a team out looking for a ZPM or a safe harbor.” She looked hopeful, but Dylan knew she’d look hopeful no matter what was happening. She would never allow people to think that there was nothing they could do to save themselves.

“You should rest,” he said gently, getting the head shake he expected. Nodding in resignation at her answer, he gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze and moved to help McKay.

“What are you doing here?” the scientist snapped at him, talking around a power bar he was cramming in his mouth. “I told you to work on reverse-engineering the ZPM.”

Behind them, the radio crackled and Dylan heard his beloved wife ask, “Anyone know an Olivia Jenings-Izumi?” Peter Grobin blinked at the radio, frowning. “Do you know that name?” he asked Weir.

“No,” she said, sounding concerned, “and I know everyone’s name. Bring her up here.”

There was a pause, then Stackhouse said, “She’s injured, Doctor. Should we take her to medical?”

Weir paused only a second. “Yes,” she said. “Radio me when you arrive. I want to talk to her.”

Dozens of floors below them, the dismayed Olivia and the annoyed Yseult heard the radioed orders. “Yes, ma’am,” Stackhouse replied before looking down at Olivia. “You heard the doctor. Up and at them.”

“I’m not sure I can walk,” Olivia said softly. “I have an old knee injury, and I’ve already been climbing since… what time is it?”

“Damn it,” Stackhouse muttered, then stripped off his pack and handed it to Johnson. “We’ll take turns carrying her. Moreau, get her on my back.”

“Where are we?” the woman asked as she climbed to her feet. Yseult noticed that she was favoring her left leg, as well as the obviously swollen left wrist.

“You’re in Atlantis, ma’am,” Stackhouse told her as he presented his back and crouched to assist Yseult.

“What!?” she gasped. “No! I turned that offer down!” She’d already been pale; now her skin was gray as she stammered, “I can’t… my son is waiting for me to pick him up! I have to go home… call the SGC, I need them to send someone to get him!” Yseult wasn’t waiting for her to finish. In one movement, she lifted her and got her more or less in place.

“I’m sorry, but we have no contact with Earth at the moment,” Stackhouse grunted, wrapping his arms around her knees and shifting her weight. Olivia pressed her face into his shoulder and whimpered. “Am I hurting you, ma’am?”

“Can’t be helped,” she replied in a strained, muffled voice. “Just… go.”

[Goro Kondo]

"Gin!" Goro growled in disgust as his anesthesiologist laid his cards down showing a foursome of kings and a two-three-four run. The the past four hours the surgical staff had occupied themselves as best they could. There were the occasional first aid type crises that they helped out with. Goro got to stitch up a scientist who had somehow opened up a three inch long gash in his leg. The rest of the time had been spent chatting amiably and playing cards.

When the radio crackled to life and somebody asked, "Anyone know an Olivia Jenings-Izumi?" The voice had a touch of a French-Canadian accent and Goro grunted a little at the was Izumi was pronounce. Word came back shortly that there was a team with the mysterious Ms. Jenings-Izumi headed for sickbay.

Goro accepted the deck of cards and reshuffled and dealt out a new hand, glad once more that he had shot down the idea to play poker for unpacking duties. "Another scientist falls down, who wants to do the triage?" The others at the table looked at each other and then out into the other room. Goro grinned, "Fine, I'll do it." He looked at his cards and groaned, tossing them atop the fresh draw pile, "Wasn't going to win that one anyway."

Goro say atop a pile of cases while waiting for the injured woman. She arrived piggybacked on a soldier and Goro had to fight to keep from laughing. He directed the woman to one of the paramedic type beds that had been setup. "OK, what is it that happened?" The female solider and the woman started to speak at once and Goro held a hand up, "One at a time please. You, the patient, your name is Olivia right? Can you tell me what happened, and where you are hurt? Other than your wrist that is clearly either broken or sprained." The concern in his voice was evident and genuine. Goro gently inspected Olivia's arm as she spoke occasionally busying himself with the usual battery of tests.

[z-Olivia Jenings-Izumi]

The woman who sat on the exam bed was clearly upset; her body language announced her unhappiness as if she had spoken it aloud. Her eyes and nose were red and she occasionally sniffled. "I don't know," she said, her voice quiet. "Everything hurts. I was thrown into a console by an Ancient device. Then I walked up a ton of stairs, so all of my muscles hurt. My throat is raw."

"Hmm," Goro murmured noncommittally. "What hurt before you took the stairs?"

"Oh." She blinked and rubbed her face with her right hand. The motion seemed to have returned some of her animation because she looked at him as she answered, "My wrist. It started swelling immediately. My knee, too, but it's an old injury."

"What kind of injury?" Goro asked, probing the arm again.

"Broken patella," Olivia said. Sounding as if she were reciting something she'd said a hundred time before, she said, "My quadriceps tendon was damaged limiting my full extension of the joint, and I have to be careful because my medial and lateral collateral ligaments have been weakened. My patella was wired and screwed in place, and they had to remove twenty percent of it. I've had one child, no cancer, I don't smoke or drink and I have no communicable diseases or allergies."

[Dylan Harvey]

Dylan gave him an annoyed look.

"Sorry, didn't realize you wanted it reverse engineered in ten minutes." Dylan looked at the read outs, trying to do the math as quickly as he could. "Alright, this might be a crazy idea, but if doctor Jackson was right this city is a space ship. Space ships need to have powerful drive systems to obtain escape velocity. If we tied all the Naquada gens together we might have enough to sustain the drive. We could use what power is left in the Zero Point Module to initiate the burn and the generators could keep it going long enough to give us lift. All we need to do is get up to the surface and see if the city still has buoyancy. If it doesn't we evacuate."

He looked to Mckay. "Think it could work?"

[Sgt. Yseult Moreau]

"Dr. Weir? Sgt. Moreau here, the squ- Miss Izumi has been delivered to medical." Yseult's husky voice was frosty from the exhaustion of canvasing the central spire of Atlantis... on foot... twice... the second time with a hundred and twenty pounds of squint. Her legs burned even more from the effort of keeping her gait smooth so she didn't jostle the unexpected arrival unduly. Yseult had to grant her that, despite Olivia's obvious pain, she bore the trip up the tower stoically... for a squint.

Once they made it back to the secured areas, Stackhouse's security team instantly began to peel off to their impromptu quarters, seeking dinner and a chance to rest. Naturally, it was her turn to carry Olivia, so food and a smoke had to wait that much longer. Merde!

While Olivia gave her unnecessarily informative medical history, Yseult waited impatiently, something else of far more immediate concern to her. She began digging through the woman's bag - she had carried the damn thing and the woman might have something potentially dangerous or compromising her story inside.

"Sorry to hear that," Yseult said, not really sounding sorry and only briefly glancing up from her search of the computer bag, "but you are going to tell me how you got here, where you have no business being." It wasn't a question, her accented voice hardening. That's all they needed now, another point of entry to secure, that was a fair distance away from the Control Room no less.

[Goro Kondo]

Goro turned from his examination and looked at the amazonian woman in military fatigues. "Excuse me. Umm ..."

"Sergeant Yseult Moreau, doctor," she replied to the question in his voice.

"Sergeant then, alright. I understand that this is highly irregular. And I've no doubt that after having spent four hours on what is likely a less than pleasant state of full alert you found yourself being tasked with carrying an injured civilian up God only knows how many flights of stairs." Goro smiled, it was a friendly, sympathetic, and winning smile. He gestured to one of the cases that were lined against the wall, "Why don't you sit down and have a rest, drink some water, and allow me to tend to this woman. I assure you that when I am done and she has been tended to you can ask your questions," he paused for emphasis, "with a modicum of restraint and understanding. Please?"

"I ..." she started, then saw that the doctor was likely to kick her out of medbay if she persisted, "Sure, it'll hold for a bit."

Turning back to Olivia, Goro nodded, "I appreciate your thoroughness Olivia. You can call me Goro by the way. If you like I mean. Or Dr. Kondo, whichever. Well by the sound of it you leg has every right to hurt. We're gonna keep you off your feet as best we can for the time being, to let it rest." Goro looked over his shoulder at the nurse, "See if you can get somebody to locate one of the collapsible crutches. This lovely lady may need one if we need to get moving again."

He turned back to Olivia, "I'm going to give you a cortisone injection, you're not allergic are you?" She shook her head, "OK, great this will help with the swelling and inflammation in both your wrist and your knee." Goro checked the dose and then removed the cover from the hair thin needle. He swabbed a spot on her arm and said, "It funny, you know we swab because it makes you feel better. See studies have shown that with a clean needle there pretty much no chance of an injection introducing something from the skin." He held up the empty syringe. "Didn't even feet it I bet. Nurse, let's get a brace on Ms. Jenings-Izumi here, and get her some water, some ibuprofen, and something to eat.

"Olivia, I'd like you to lie back and put your feet up. The nurse if going to put a brace on your arm and get you into a sling and then get you some basic painkillers and some water and maybe bite to eat." He leaned forward, "I'll apologize in advance for the military rations. Technically they do still qualify as 'food'." He help Olivia to lie back on the bed with the top angled up so she was lying in a reclined position and her feet were slightly elevated on a pillow. "Better?"

"Yes, thank you." Liv smiled wanly, the color starting to return and the cortisone already starting to make the swelling and inflammation in her wrist and knee decrease.

Goro beamed, "Excellent! Now, if you don't mind the lovely Sergeant here has been so kind as to agree to be nice and civil to you. If you can answer her questions that'd help us all out. Meanwhile I'll see to making sure you get taken care of. OK, then. Sergeant?"

[z-Olivia Jenings-Izumi]

Olivia happily submitted to the care; she was simply glad to be off her feet. She was very familiar with braces; she had one at home for her knee, for days when she’d strained her knee and needed to give it a rest. “If you have a knee brace, that will be enough for me to get around,” she told him, giving him a pretty smile. He was a hard man not to smile at, and Olivia was quietly grateful that she had gotten a Dr. Hyde instead of a Dr. Jekyll. “Thank you, Doctor,” she added, her smile deepening a little more.

At his suggestion that she cooperate with Soldier Action Barbie, Olivia’s smile fled. "I remember what she asked," Olivia said tersely, watching Yseult finger her possessions. One by one, they were pulled into the light: her personal laptop, a granola bar wrapper, two tampons, an assortment of pens and notepads, Vinny's picture from their time in Kuwait and that damned pocketknife.

"I don't know how I got here." She addressed the Sergeant coolly, her dark eyes hard. “I had been instructed by my supervisor at Area 51 to catalogue an artifact found in the Antarctic base. I had just finished when I lost my balance and fell against it. The next thing I knew, I was being flung across the room. I got up, stumbled out to the stairs, and started going up. I wanted to find the StarGate so that I could dial home.”

She looked to Goro. “Is it true that we can’t dial Earth?”

“Not yet,” Goro said, trying to be upbeat. It wasn’t hard to guess that she wasn’t happy about being here.

“Who’s Carl?” Yseult asked and stark fear crossed Olivia’s face. Her concern about how the Sergeant knew that name faded when she saw the woman holding the pocket knife. Olivia hadn’t taken a close look at it, so she didn’t realize that the fucker had engraved it with the phrase From Carl.

“He’s someone I know. He gave that to my son as a gift,” Olivia told Yseult, her eyes getting angrier as she spoke. When Yseult held up the photograph and started to ask who that was, Olivia replied, “And that’s none of your business.” Seeing Goro frown and shift, she added, “That’s personal and irrelevant. It’s a picture of someone I knew. Despite being trapped here, I don’t have to divulge every aspect of my life to you. I’ll gladly tell you whatever you want to know about how I got here. But leave my few possessions alone, and respect my privacy in regards to those items.” She was terrified that they’d take away her computer – the pictures on that laptop was her only connection to her son.

[Sgt. Yseult Moreau]

Yseult's glacial blue eyes narrowed, a hard smirk slightly curving her lips as she read the writing on the back of the photo, then turned it over and glanced again at the man depicted. "Asshole, hmm?" Yseult snorted as she tossed the photo to Olivia, then began stuffing her possessions back into her computer bag.

"You will not connect your laptop to any system until one of the tech-geeks gets a look at it, understand? It will be up to Colonel Sumner... and Doctor Weir, I suppose, to determine how much access, if any, you are granted."

The attractive, muscular woman pointed at the photo that had landed in Olivia's lap, a glint in her eyes that held both warning and amusement. "And the man in the photo, his identity is not as personal and irrelevant as you are thinking. Captain Vincent Wright, he is a member of the Atlantis Expedition, and does seem like an asshole. But then again, he is a pilot. If there are... problems between the two of you, those are problems for the entire expedition, especially one as small and isolated as our own."

[Forge]

Vinny had just gotten into the shuttle bay and was gawking at the retarded looking ships when the call over the radio went out about Olivia.

Tryin' to fuck with me? Couldn't be...

Vin waited and listened for a more direct prod at himself, as that name couldn't possibly be mentioned here in anything but a dig at himself, but when nothing came and their 'fearless leader's' voice started to speak, he promptly tuned it out. Evidently he had heard wrong and some facet of his subconscious had brought that woman's name to the forefront. The Captain had much more interesting things at hand than personnel issues. Even if they weren't the fiercest looking specimens of aviation to behold.

Ancients not really known for intimidating design.

He stood in the middle of the bay and closed his eyes while he spun in a circle on one foot. As he put his foot down to catch himself at the end of his brief foray into the life of a roulette wheel, he stuck his finger out and pointed.

"Eenie, meenie..." Vin shrugged and walked over to it, "Looks like a shuttle, probably works like one.."

And just like the Star Trek craft it was compared to, the back was open, allowing him entry. As Vin walked in, lights illuminated first the aft section, then the middle cabin and as he approached the piloting area, consoles began to light up.

"Heh, a dialing pad." he smirked as he sat down into the chair. "No more fuckin' hoofin' it. If we figure where the Hell we are."

A display screen lit up with a rough overlay of the city, pinpointing Vinny's location with a glowing dot.

"Well, that's fuckin' bitchin'!"

He looked down at the controls, they layout was fairly simple, and before he could find the button to do so, the engines stirred to life.

"Fuck me runnin'! Now all you need is a cloak and those 'firefly' torpedoes from Antarctica."

A light lit up on the console, and it didn't take much thought to figure out that he was indeed, 'cloaked'.

"Weir...this is Vin. You'll wanna come see this." Vinny said, excited as a kid in one cent candy store with a roll of quarters.

[Goro Kondo]

"Ok, ok, Sergeant, I appreciate the need to get answers but you are upsetting my patient. I'm going to have to ask that you return later." Goro managed to sound apologetic while at the same time conveying that he would brook no argument from the amazon. There was something in the way he spoke and his expression that seemed to evaporate any possibility of ill intent, he was looking out for his patient, it didn't matter who they were, or claimed to be.

Goro took the wrist and knee braces from the nurse, "Go, sit down, I'll see to this. Thank you." He turned back to Olivia, "Can you put your leg out straight? Good." Goro wrapped the articulated brace around Olivia's knee and strapped it into place, tightening the fit perfectly the first time. His hands moved with confidence and grace as he then took up her wrist which was hurting far more than the knee now that she was off her feet. "I'd like to get an image done to make sure that there are no hairline breaks, but until they allow us to setup and start going over this equipment this is all I can do. There, that should keep it from moving and once we can locate the slings I'll get you into one of those to keep it elevated. Do you need anything else? The ibuprofen should kick in shortly and help with the rest of the pain."

[z-Olivia Jenings-Izumi]

Olivia looked as if she'd been punched in the gut. Vinny here? But that means...

That means that there's nobody home who will do what has to be done to protect Dominic. Cold fear closed over her heart and she was only vaguely aware of Goro's conversation with Yseult. Shaking fingers closed over the photograph of a younger, happier Vinny. She pressed it between her palms and trying to breathe.

Goro's voice finally penetrated; his precise movements as he braced her knee brought her back to reality. She listened to his instructions and questions and shook her head. "No," she whispered softly. "I'm... I'm fine." Dark eyes, hollow and shrunken from stress and pain, met his as she added, "Thank you, Dr. Kondo. You've been very kind."

As he started to go, she said, "Please, Doctor... one thing... may I have my laptop? I don't want to hook it up to anything. I just want my bag." She wanted to curl around the only thing remaining to her that had any real connection to her son.

[Dawn OOC]

Eight hours after arrival

“Yes, Harvey, it will work,” McKay said irritably, squinting at the younger scientist. “It will work if Dr. Jackson isn’t talking out his ass, and if we can find the controls for the boosters and if we can figure out how they work before the city floods and drowns us all. Oh, and of course, we then have to hope that the city floats.” With a sneer, Rodney added, “So yeah, you get right on that. As complicated as the computers are, you’ll win the lottery before finding that data. But feel free to waste what little time we have.”

“It’s something worth trying,” Dylan insisted, anger rising as he wondered why McKay always had to shut him down like this. Why didn’t the scientist think he had anything worth-while to offer?

“And as I said,” McKay barked, “feel free to waste your time.”

Dr. Weir seemed in a better mood as she returned from Capt. Wright’s call. There was little time to ask her about what he’d shown her, because she was called to the medbay. It took her a few minutes to check with the Control Room and make sure she wasn’t needed there; then she proceeded down to see to their stowaway.

As Olivia issued her plea, Dr. Weir stepped into the medbay, new soldiers at her back. “Sgt. Moreau, thank you for your diligence,” she said to the watching Canadian. “You’re off-duty for the next twelve hours. Enjoy.”

After Yseult had been dismissed, Dr. Weir turned to Olivia. For a long moment, the two women studied each other. “Ms. Jening-Izumi was it?”

“Dr. Jenings-Izumi,” Olivia said, pronouncing it correctly.

Suddenly, Weir smiled. “I got it wrong on our phone call, too, didn’t I?”

“Yes, doctor,” Olivia replied. “It’s not a common name.”

“No, that’s why I wondered if you were the same Olivia I’d tried to recruit originally.” Weir’s smile wasn’t exactly friendly and Olivia remained tense. “You turned down the chance to come on the expedition, because of your family, if I recall. So how did you come to be here anyway?”

Swallowing, Olivia told the story again, this time going into more detail for Dr. Weir. By the time she was done, Weir had lost some of her suspicion. But she still looked displeased. In her mind, she was recalculating what this stowaway meant: the loss in supplies and resources alone made this woman a burden. For her to arrive injured only made it worse. “Very well,” she said to Olivia. “You’re to stay here under guard until Dr. Kondo clears you. At that time, we’ll figure out what we’re going to do with you.”

“I just wanted to say,” Olivia said quickly, holding up a hand, “that I’m willing to work, to pull my weight – whatever will get me home faster.”

“Yes, Dr. Jenings-Izumi,” Weir said, turning back to her. “I will remember that you’re here to find a way home, and not to further mankind’s scientific endeavors.” Weir knew that statement was a bit harsh, but it made her angry that this woman had found a way to get into the expedition after turning down her spot. There were other people who didn’t make the cut, who couldn’t be here, but Olivia was by a damned fluke of nature.

“I just want to get home to my family,” Olivia said, her voice shaking a little.

“Yes, I know,” Weir said. “We’ll do what we can about that, but for now, you’re going to have to sit tight.” She glanced at the soldiers. “Miller, please made sure that she has help getting out if we need to evacuate.” Without another look, she swept out of the room, on to the next crisis.

The two soldiers left behind settled into relaxed poses and watched Olivia. The woman dropped her head to the pillow and tried to sleep.

Ten hours after arrival

The lights had dimmed about thirty minutes ago; it seemed that the city had its own version of ‘lights out’. It still wasn’t so dark that people couldn’t move around and most took advantage of the change in lighting to try to catch some sleep. However, with the longer shadows and rather alien architecture, most found it too spooky to rest well.

Twenty hours after arrival

The dawn brought a new day, but still no return of their missing team. Weir paced the Control Room, never really removing her gaze from the gate. When she wasn’t looking at it, she was looking at the screen monitoring the energy levels in Atlantis.

The shaking started within an hour of ‘sunrise.’ They couldn’t see the sun, but there was no reason to assume that the city didn’t know where the sun was. Honestly, people were more concerned with the failing shield. Everyone was gathered in the GateRoom or in the hallways off to the side, ready to begin the orderly evacuation.

“I never thought that we’d find the lost city of Atlantis and have to abandon it,” Weir murmured, looking sad. She and Rodney had already argued this out; she knew that they had to go. “Alright,” she said to Grobin. “Start the evacuation. Dial that address; we have no choic-”

The sound of the gate firing up cut her off, and Weir whirled to stare at the building wormhole. “Who is it?” she cried, hoping that it was Col. Sumner with a safe place for them to go.

“Maj. Sheppard’s IDC!” Grobin shouted as Atlantis started to shudder in earnest.

“Let him in!” Weir cried, turning to the gate, expecting to see her team. What she didn’t expect to see was the bedraggled group of natives with Sheppard, and most of the original team missing. “John, who are these people? You can’t bring them here! We’re about to evacuate!”

“What?” Sheppard asked, staring at her in disbelief. “We need another address!” Sheppard shouted over the growl of the trembling city, then grabbed one of the kids. “Jinto, do you know another address?”

“I know many!” the boy cried.

“Him? But he’s just a boy!” Weir exclaimed, unwilling to put her faith in a child’s idea of a safe gate address.

“I am Jinto!” the child perkily said, smiling, but Sheppard steered him toward the stairs. “She’s thrilled,” he said drily.

Before Sheppard and the kid had mounted more than two steps, Atlantis began to roar and groan. Boxes slid off one another; people toppled like toys before an angry toddler. It was nearly impossible to keep on one’s feet as the floor shivered and quaked under them. People cried in alarm and fear as the shaking grew worse. Soldiers protected the scientists wherever they could. Sheppard started to drag the boy up the steps, but Weir’s cry stopped him. “No, wait!”

“She’s right!” Rodney and Dylan echoed, too amazed by what was happening to be aggravated at one another.

The massive boosters under the city fired, a short burst of power. Despite their relative lack of burst, it was enough to propel the city upwards and drain the last bit of power in the ZPM. The city rose from the water, its towers breaching the waves like a scene from a fairy tell. For the first time in centuries, natural sunlight fell on the city.

The shaking and rumbling stopped and the new residents of Atlantis got their first look at their new sun - and their new day.

[Dylan Harvey]

"Well, it would seem Daniel was completely talking out of his ass." Dylan walked away muttering. "No way this could be a space ship. We really shouldn't listen to the leading expert on the ancients and even ascended and spent time with them."

Dylan returned to his team and looked at the initial scan results they had. they matched the first readings. Now though they could commit to scans that were not allowed on a working ZPM. He gave them enough to do to keep them busy for the rest of the day and went back to work on checking all the gear. In the back of his mind his anger over Rodney Mckay stewed. Mckay had ruined his chances of really discovering something great. Maybe at some point in this city Dylan would have the opportunity to return that kind of embarrassment.

[Sgt. Yseult Moreau]

Eight hours after arrival

Yseult gave Weir a sharp nod, her casually attentive posture easing immediately as she was declared off-duty. "Doctor." After a long moment, the female soldier gave Olivia a glance and a brief nod. "Doctor." Then the muscular woman sauntered out, showing little sign of her fatigue.

Yseult found the impromptu barracks swiftly - only one, and they hadn't bothered to segregate the sexes. She slid off her pack and unslung her P-90 and web harness, then took off her boots. She reached into her pack and pulled out a pair of MREs, consuming them with little fanfare, paying scant attention to the flavour, simply fueling her body.

What she pulled out of her pack next garnered far more of her focus, a pack of cigarettes, cellophane crinkling under her strong fingers. She slid one out with a precise tap, giving a grateful sigh as she flicked open her zippo and lit it. She took a long drag, blowing a stream of silver-blue smoke towards the high ceiling. The one other soldier that looked about to protest thought better of it when her glacial eyes turned his way, daring him to say something.

"Ah, I was needing this, me," she said, another content sigh passing her lips, along with tendrils of gossamer smoke.

She savoured her smoke, carefully disposed of the butt in the silvery foil of a finished MRE, then stripped down to her sports bra and female boxer-briefs. She noted with a wry smile that the same soldier who had wanted to protest her right to a smoke - Markham she thought his name was - watched her avidly now. Her icy blue eyes glinted.

"Like what you see?" she said with a teasing smirk, flexing just bit.

"Oh! No, I wasn't-"

"Bullshit! But no worries, I won't tell your wife."

"I don't have a wif-"

"Excellent!" Yseult eyed the other soldier frankly, gaze going down and up. He wasn't bad, a little taller than her, strong shoulders. Her smirk widened. "When we get quarters, buy me a drink, you might to get to see more. Long as you promise not to follow me around like a fucking puppy. Got one of those already, don't need another."

At his slack-jawed bewilderment, cheeks slightly red, Yseult snorted then turned over, sliding underneath the sheets of the cot. Before her admirer could form a reply, Yseult was asleep, restful, but lightly enough to wake at a moment's notice, grabbing some zed's as only a soldier can.

Sixteen hours after arrival

Yseult was dressed and wide awake, looking over the duty roster, drinking something dark and caffeinated that claimed to be coffee, but was in fact a crime against nature (or at least, the bowels). Her lips twisted as she saw that she had to ride escort on the uninvited guess. Fun.

Before she went on duty, she got a status report, hearing about the potential evacuation, then got a light work-out in, a brisk run and some calisthenics. After that, she started looking around the secured area, searching for something that could be suitable quarters. Nothing jumped out at her, but there was a lot of tower to look through. She was pretty sure most people were going to get sick of stairs real quick.

Twenty hours after arrival

"Take-off Miller, I got the doctor now," Yseult said as she loped into the Medbay, pointing at where she just came from with a thumb over a broad shoulder.

Yseult moved over to the wall opposite Olivia's cot, settling into a coiled slouch that looked somehow both relaxed and dangerous at the same time, a faint, wolfish smile curving her lips. Without seeming fidgety, Olivia watched the beautiful, if hard faced, woman scan the medbay, icy eyes roving ceaselessly.

Other than a terse 'Doctor' for Olivia and Goro, the silence stretched between the two women, until it was broken by an announcement by Weir, calling everyone to the Gateroom in preparation for the imminent evacuation. With ill concealed impatience, Yseult waited as Olivia got to her feet, testing the support of the knee brace with Dr. Kondo's solicitous help.

Pacing at her side, leading Olivia to the Gateroom, Yseult noted that the other woman seemed nervous, concerned about abandoning Atlantis. With a mental roll of the eyes, Yseult decided to say something, trying to put her at her ease.

"So," Yseult began bluntly, "you have a ki-"

Suddenly, just as they entered the Gateroom, Atlantis began to shake and rumble. Instantly, Yseult glided to Olivia's side, having no trouble with the quivering floor, a strong arm reaching out to support Olivia. The other swung up her sub-machine gun, panning across the gateroom in a steady arc, looking for threats, eyes roving over Sheppard and the apparent refugees from a Ren Faire.

"What the fuck? Is it Hostiles? The shield...." Despite the tremors and their unknown cause, Yseult's voice was calm and steady, but she trailed off as she felt the particular shifting of the city, vaguely similar to a rising elevator, taken to the Nth level, then saw the undiluted sunlight pouring in through the windows.

[z-Olivia Jenings-Izumi]

Olivia was sure she wouldn't be able to sleep. She was caught on an alien world, far away from her family. To her surprise, she woke up several hours after lapsing rapidly into sleep. She was still in the medbay, still on a makeshift cot. Her knee felt a little better, but she wasn't ready to go dancing. Her arm was still throbbing.

Sickbay was dark, only the wall sconces shedding a soft yellow glow illuminated the handful of medics still there. A pair was awake using a crank operated lantern to light a corner of the room as they sat conversing. Somewhere in the dark there was a similarly quiet sound of music drifting through sickbay.

Olivia shifted slowly, trying to move without hurting her arm. That was an experiment in futility; any movement hurt fiercely. She wondered if it were broken as she sat up. Cradling her arm, she glanced around, relieved to see her laptop bag nearby. With a start, she realized that Vinny's picture had been pressed against her stomach as she had slept, weighed down by her folded hands. "That's embarrassing," she muttered, swinging her legs over the edge of the cot and testing the possibility of standing.

"Feeling better?" The doctor's voice came over the piano. The music continued, slow and steady and a little mournful. (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5vcFFf9aa7k) Olivia looked back into the opposite corner of the sickbay from the two active medics. Goro sat in a darkened corner, his slender fingers slowly dancing over the thin keyboard before him as he played, apparently from memory. "You should take it easy. Not that there's much to do around here anyway. Lights went out maybe an hour ago." He laughed, "I think the city has a curfew."

Olivia frowned, narrowing her eyes in the darkness. It took her a moment to realize what he was playing and she found herself smiling. In the darkness, he looked like Wakiki, and Olivia felt a pang of homesickness at the thought of her brother. "I see," she said softly. Realizing he'd asked her a question, she added, "I think I'm stiff from the cot. Can I walk around a little, if my knee allows?" She glanced emphatically at the soldier standing nearby.

Goro's eyes caught a sparkle in the dimness as he said, "I don't know, can you?"

She gave him an exasperated look and he shrugged, hands still moving over the keys, "If you feel up to it. Don't try to leave though, I'd rather not have to worry about you taking a tumble in the halls. Plus, Weir wants people moving around as little as possible." He seemed to consider the song for a moment as he played and then asked, "Is your wrist any better? If it’s just a sprain it should be less painful now."

"It still hurts," Olivia admitted. "It might be less painful... I don't know." The hours before she'd fallen asleep were a blur now. Please don't be broken, she thought at the joint. Moving carefully, she got her feet under her and rose, wincing a little as her knee twinged slightly. Vinny's picture flopped to the floor and Olivia picked it up with a frown. Limping to the crate holding her laptop bag, she slipped the picture inside, wondering if that bitch from yesterday had been telling the truth about him being here. She could be lying, but Olivia saw no point to it. She turned to Goro. "Can you do an x-ray of my arm, or are we still in mechanical limbo?"

"Unfortunately no. We're still on standby for possible emergency evac. And with the power situation being what it is ..." he trailed off and then finally stopped playing. Silence abruptly filled the room. "They don't want us poking around with the Ancient systems either. The shields have been failing. We lost three people already when the section they were in flooded." Goro's voice was unmistakably shaken. "You'll have to keep wearing the brace and sling for now. Sorry."

"It's fine," Olivia said, her voice hushed. "I understand." She picked up her laptop and moved around the room, staying close to both the guard and the doctor. The soldier watched her with cool indifference and aside from one smile, she ignored him. As usual with her knee, the more she walked the more the pain faded. Satisfied after a few laps, she sat down next to Goro. "Things are bad, aren't they?" she asked softly.

"Is everything alright Doctor?" One of the nurses asked as they realized the music had stopped.

"Yes, it's ... everything is fine. Thank you Cindy." Goro ignored Olivia's question for a moment as he pondered the electronic piano. "No," he finally said quietly, "this city may prove to be our grave."

Olivia's hands clenched in fear, but her voice was steady as she said, "I see. And I assume that they have those who can help working on it, and the rest of us have nothing more to do than... wait." Goro nodded and Olivia dropped her head into her hands. The doctor reached out and put a comforting hand on her back. Her entire body tensed at his touch, and he withdrew his hand. She lifted her head and smiled at him apologetically. "Thank you," she said softly. "For everything you've done. I appreciate it."

Goro nodded, "At least I was able to do something. For you I mean. Since we arrived here things have been such that ..." Goro sighed and started playing again. "Hopefully the engineers will find a away out of this." Olivia found Goro's hand moving confidently over the keys despite that he was looking away, staring off into space with an unfocused gaze. His skill was evident, were he not a doctor he may have been able to have played professionally.

Olivia watched him for a moment, then asked, "How did you come to be here? I mean... I'm sure you were selected, but why? What's your specialty?" She gave him an impish grin. "Or did they just decide they needed a musician but had to hide him in a medical officer?" She was clearly attempting to distract herself.

"Chief of the surgical team, and second to the Chief of Medicine. The shoddy piano playing is purely by unhappy coincidence." He purposefully hit a couple of wrong notes before resuming proper play. "Shame that we don't have a proper musician, I hear music helps the sick." He gave her a wink and a slight smile, somehow making her feel better despite the situation.

Olivia smiled and closed her eyes, letting the music drift over her. After listening to him for a while, she pulled out her laptop and switched it on. The computer quickly announced the lack of a wireless signal, but she ignored it to open up her files. She browsed to her pictures and selected one of the jpgs. A forest scene leapt into life on her monitor. A small boy was standing on a rock, standing in a heroic pose. His skin was paler than hers, but the familial relation was evident. Olivia stared at the image of her son, Goro's music drifting over her. Tears rose in her eyes, but she refused to allow them to fall. Tears wouldn't help. "Doctor, if there's anything I can do to help out, please let me know." Her fingers touched the screen lightly, tentatively. "Keeping busy would be wonderful."

"What field are you in? You said you were a doctor but I'd be foolish to assume you were an MD." He looked at her, waiting.

"Um, no," she said with a smile. "I'm actually an anthropologist," she said. "Somewhat less helpful in the medbay, I know."

"But still useful," Goro insisted, “especially out here.”

But no useful against stopping a wall of water. Olivia didn’t say that aloud; it wasn’t necessary to state. Goro continued to play; Olivia continued to listen, shutting down her laptop after a few more minutes. Until she found a way to print off some pictures or found an electrical socket, she needed to conserve power.

Hours more passed; food and water was passed around to everyone. Olivia grimaced at the texture and taste of the MREs, but didn’t complain. It was food in her stomach and it was good enough. That bitch came and replaced Miller; her name tag said ‘Moreau’ and Olivia recognized her rank as Sergeant.

Finally, the call they’d been waiting for: “This is Dr. Weir. We’re preparing to evacuate Atlantis. Everyone gather in the GateRoom; bring only those supplies that you can easily carry.”

Olivia stood carefully; sitting for any length of time always made her knee stiff when it was strained.

Click to reveal.. (Memory)

”Mommy? Is your knee angry again?” Dominic asked her, peering at her with concern.

“Yeah, sweetie,” she said softly, doing her best to smile at him despite the pain. “It’s very angry.”

Her son knelt in front of her chair and put his mouth close to her knee. “Don’t be angry, knee,” the three-year-old ordered with conviction. “You’re hurting Mommy!” He gave it a second before looking up at her. “Better?”

Olivia laughed softly. “Yes, baby,” she told him, leaning forward and wrapping her arms around him. It wasn’t totally a lie. Her son’s amusing medical care had lightened her spirits. “It’s less angry now. Thank you.”

With Dr. Kondo’s help, she stood and was able to move mostly on her own. She even managed to take a small case of medical supplies, her burden light compared to what others carried. Her gaoler fell into step beside her, watching her. They climbed two flights of stairs, joining the gathering crowd in the hallway off the GateRoom. They fell into the queue, waiting for their turn. For a long moment, there was an awkward silence between the women; Goro was speaking with a nurse, talking about what supplies they’d managed to take.

“So,” Moreau said suddenly, “you have a ki-”

The city shook and Olivia was suddenly off balance. Moreau caught her windmilling arm and steadied her. The shaking grew worse and worse, then became a roar of power. The upward motion was clear but she didn’t have time to consider what that meant. With one particularly rough shake, Olivia’s hand came down on someone’s shoulder, her grip adding support. She started to apologize for grabbing whomever that was, but was distracted when she saw the sunlight. “We’re… floating?” she asked, a smile appearing on her face. They were alive! She heard her laugh joining the other sounds of relief and jubilation.

[Dawn OOC]

The news spread quickly. The strangers were humans from Pegasus, refuges from an attack. The attackers were called ‘the Wraith’ in the Ancient tongue, and soon they were referred by that moniker in English as well. The Althosians were surprisingly friendly and willing to help. They were also willing to talk about the Wraith. Their English was nonexistent, but Lantean seemed to be a common tongue across the galaxy. The Althosians, as a people with no written tradition, also started to pick up English, as well as some more colorful phrases in other languages.

With the safety of the city assured – at least for now – unpacking became the word of the day. Lt. Ford had been given the duty of supervising clearing the Control Room of crates. “No one gets to sit down until they’ve cleared two packages from this pad,” he said, then darted over to Olivia. “Not you, ma’am,” he said, giving her a smile. Moreau, not relieved from watching her yet, received a covert wink.

“I want to help,” Olivia said, frowning a little.

“’ppreciate that, ma’am,” Ford replied quickly. “But I don’t know that the folks in command want you touchin’ our stuff yet, and my grandma would whoop me if I let a pretty lady with an injured knee do any heavy lifting.” He gave her a charming smile.

Olivia appeared immune to the charm. “If there anything that I can do to help, please do let me know,” she said firmly.

“Yes, ma’am, but for now, that would be staying out of our way.” Ford waved her off to one side. Giving Moreau a roguish grin, he added in a mutter, “Have fun.”

Yseult rolled her eyes, sighing impatiently.

Dylan found himself working to hook up the laptops to the Atlantian system. With only a handful of people possessing the ATA gene, the laptops were necessary to attempt any interface with the computers. It still wasn’t a perfect solution, but a perfect solution was fifty people with the ATA gene who could work the machines. Barring that, secondary measures were the best they could manage.

“So what do you think these Wraith things really are?” Sandy wasn’t looking at Dylan; she was talking to Phil. But he heard her words anyway.

“No idea,” Dylan said, easily stepping into the conversation. “But the natives seem pretty wigged out by them.”

“Yeah, and they’re primitive people,” Phil added, his voice deepening into a grunt as he lifted a particularly heavy crate onto a chair. “You know how they can be. Look at the Jaffa. They believed the Goa’uld to be gods. We had to show them that they weren’t before they’d start breaking away. I mean, it isn’t their fault. They just don’t know better. Bet these Losians are the same.”

“All mythology has a seed of truth,” Sandy said, her voice uneasy.

The medical bay was buzzing with excitement. Nurses and doctors alike pitched in to get the Earth equipment set up, while trying out the Lantean technology whenever it could be persuaded to work for them. Goro found himself being tugged from one to another, trying to his hand at determining what equipment did what.

Beckett was busy dissecting a hand from the aliens when Weir arrived. They discussed the amazing and troubling properties of the alien’s physiology. When they were done, Weir approached Goro. “Dr. Kondo, I’d like a report of what we can expect medically from our stowaway. I doubt she would have cleared the physical to be allowed to come anyway, and I want to know if we’re going to have problems with any medications or disorders.”

“Her initial exam, aside from a bad knee, is promising,” Goro assured the leader of the expedition. “I don’t think we’ll have a problem in that regard. Her wrist might be broken, but I don’t think so. I want to x-ray her to be sure.”

“Let’s hope,” Weir said. “Keep me appraised.”

Vinny found himself with little to do. Lt. Ford didn’t attempt to order a Captain around, which suited Vinny fine. He was itching to get one of those ships out and through the wormhole, cloak and all. He just needed a good excuse. He got it when he heard the rumors of the pretty boy’s desire to rescue the missing men. Vinny could support that kind of sentiment, so he sought out the Major.

“When’s the rescue?” he grunted to Sheppard without any preliminaries.

Sheppard frowned but only said, “There isn’t one yet. Weir doesn’t want to risk more people needlessly.”

“Somethin’ you need to see.” As Sheppard looked intrigued and followed him, Vinny wondered if the ass-tard diplomat had not understood what the cloaking device meant, or if she didn’t have the balls to get their people back. Any moron could see the disadvantage of the enemy having their people, and no one with a decent moral code could stomach leaving people in the hands of the enemy.

Twenty minutes later, word spread that Sheppard was looking for volunteers to go get Col. Sumner and the others back.

[Teagan Shae Ammer]

She'd been given to the one she'd named Darkness, which was fine by her. Time with him was usually more interesting and more quiet than with the others; the bumps and bruises she had at the end were more from endlessly running into things in the pitch black rooms he occupied than the occasional violence he visited on her. And she always deserved it; moreso with him as the only times he'd purposely hurt her was when she'd broken something or endangered some experiment of his. She knew she deserved whatever was done to her, but with Darkness it was simply easy to understand what she had done, why she deserved her pain, more than with the others.

They'd been in his lab for most of the past cycle, tending the Aopipae plants he'd cultivated from an uninhabited world that they'd passed by several years ago. They were from the same base plant that could be found all over the galaxy, but this variety had dark purple flowers instead of white ones and would bloom in sunlight; the narcotic and euphoric properities of the pods of plant were far more potent than it's white cousin and the plants he'd grown has finally reached the point of harvest. The Keeper enjoyed watching the antics of her worshippers under the influence of the milder white Aeopipae serum; eventually, though, the worshippers became immune to the flower's properties. Darkness hoped to provide her with an alternate serum that would take much longer for a human to build up an immunity to, or better yet one that they never did.

He'd requested the Keeper's Regina for his next phase of testing and refinement, reasoning from past experience that if he could create a serum that her own highly evolved system could not adjust to, or at least one that took much longer than the original had, then he would have a product worthy to bring to the Keeper to try on her worshippers. So when he was called away over some matter of technology found with the culled Athosians, Inoae was left stretched out on a table in the dimly lit laboratory. She was too disoriented and muddled from the first dose of the serum he'd administered to her to have registered much more than that she was now alone and that the room kept rolling from sweltering hot to freezing cold even though there was no breeze and she wasn't moving much.

She whimpered quietly and drew the edges of her dress tighter around herself, trying to cover as much fevered skin as she could until the serum ran its course or Darkness returned.

[Dylan Harvey]

When word reached the lab Dylan didn't hesitate. He tracked down Sheppard immediately. He was already loading up supplies. Dylan walked right up to him and stood at attention. As much as he disliked his time in the military some habits died hard, and in a situation this serious it was more important to be disciplined.

"Major Sheppard, Dylan Harvey, I would like to volunteer for the rescue mission. I have military training and am certified with the P90. You might also want a scientist along in case you hit a technological barrier that C4 won't take care of."

Dylan left out the fact he could probably use every person he could get from the rumors flying around about the wraith.

[Sgt. Yseult Moreau]

Yseult lounged at Olivia's side, somehow able to convey annoyed boredom with attentive ease in the same fluidly taut posture. Yse moved them to the upper area of the Control Room to get them clear of the people working on the floor. Stifling another sigh, she offered the unintentional addition to the Atlantis Expedition a strong arm when she saw Olivia having difficulty navigating the stairs with the knee brace on. With reluctant thanks, Olivia accepted the help of the imposing woman, surprisingly pretty despite the military fatigues and her obvious muscularity.

When word began spreading about volunteers for the rescue mission, Yseult caught Sheppard's eye and gave him a sharp nod, showing her willingness to go. She had enough of babysitting the squints, she needed some action. So thinking, she glanced at Olivia from the corner of her eye, frowning as the woman peered at the control consoles of Ancient design.

The frown deepened with a snort as she caught sight of Dylan puttering around - My Husband! Fuck, I still don't believe I could have been that drunk! - trying to hook up Earth Tech to the Atlantean systems.

"Do not touch anything," Yseult warned when she thought Olivia was growing a little too curious. Still thinking about the defensibility of the city, something else occurred to Yseult.

"This device you mentioned coming through, would you be able to retrace you steps to where it is? In case we have any other uninvited 'guests'."

The woman's dark skin flushed slightly. "Maybe," she said reluctantly.

Yseult nodded, lips tightening with a suppressed scowl. "I was expecting better than a 'maybe'. We'll have to go look when you can walk without help again. If we're lucky, the squints will have found the damned elevators by then, I doubt the bloody Ancients walked everywhere."

"I'll try to find it," Olivia assured her. "I want to go home, and that might let me."

"Right." A long pause, then, "You mentioned you had a kid." It wasn't quite a question, but it was more (or less) than a statement.

Fear and worry pinched the woman's face into a sudden frown. "Yes, he's six. I can't imagine what he's going through right now... what he's thinking." To Yseult's discomfort, the stowaway's eyes became glassy with unshed tears. "My parents and brother will take care of him... but they're hours away. I only hope-" She stopped and dark eyes studied Yseult for a moment. "I only hope that the authorities are taking care of Dom for now."

Pale blue eyes met dark for a moment before flinching away under the pretense of scanning the area. Considering the disaster that were her own parents, Yseult never wanted kids. Besides having a career where she couldn't give them the attention they warranted - or demanded - they cried, whined, made a mess of everything, were a bloody nuisance, and you could rarely ever give them back. Mothers weren't much better.

Mon Dieu! I hope the docs can replace my contraceptive implant if we're still cut off from Earth for the next few months.

"I'm sure... Dom... will be fine, be it a few hours or days," the woman soldier tried to assure her awkwardly. "Kids, they are more resilient than most give them credit for, yes? It's just most brats are spoiled and coddled way too much, expecting everything to be solved by their fucking crying." Olivia saw a muscle twitch as Yseult's jaw clenched in remembrance.

The woman's dark face went hard. "Do you have children?" she asked, her small chin pushing forward.

"No." The sheer relief in Yseult's voice was unmistakable, and not a little insulting.

"I almost aborted Dominic," Olivia said, her voice low and hard. "I actually went to the clinic and got inside before my friend asked if I were sure. And when I said, no, he made me go home and talk to my parents. There's not a day that I don't thank Sherman for that kindness. Dom is the best thing I've ever done with my life. I'm sitting in the city of Atlantis, the place that people would cut off their right hands to go to, and all I want back is my baby. Children are resilient, but every moment he thinks I abandoned him, after his father did the same, is a moment that he is hurt and scarred. You shouldn't talk about a subject that you have no real knowledge on."

"I am assuring you, that I am knowing all I need to, putain. I remember being a child too," Yseult growled back, her own voice hard, French accent thicker than before, eyes like burning ice. "All parents, they are hurting and scarring their children, some in small ways and some in not so small ways. C'est la vie - that is life. Being abandoned - or thinking that it is so - there is much worst than that."

Yseult turned her back on Olivia, pretending to survey the below in the Gate Room. Olivia saw her back tense, a hand balling into a fist with the audible cracking of knuckles. "We will get you back your son," Yseult said, voice tight with the effort of control. "This place, Atlantis, it is not one for those with children, I am thinking. A split focus, it can be dangerous for everyone."

"My focus isn't split," Olivia said firmly. "I'll do anything to help us get home. If that means that I stay out of the way and let everyone else do their jobs, then that's what I'll do. I want to help." She was quiet before she said, "I know people hurt each other all the time. I'm not naive. But the pain of a parent intentionally inflicting hurt on their child is different from the hurts we don't mean to cause. I don't know why you hate your parents, or if you even do. It's not my business. But know this - I abhor violence, and would kill for Dominic." She was quiet for another long moment. "That is the strength of my focus. He comes first, last and between everything else."

"I wasn't debating the strength of your focus - I know that people are willing to take any action for their family. Simply that your focus may differ from that of the Expedition. Finding a method to reach Earth is a priority, but it's not the main focus of the Expedition, exploring Atlantis and the Pegasus galaxy is." The omission of any mention of her parents was distinctly clear.

Yseult turned and faced the dark-skinned scientist once more, blue eyes glacial and hard, the faintest curve to her lips. "And don't be a hypocrite. If you are willing to kill for your son, don't claim to abhor violence. Parents and teachers, most of them, they tell children over and over that fighting is bad, to talk things out. The fact is, some circumstances require fighting and killing. If you regret the means, you regret the results as well. The rest, it's just fucking mental acrobatics to make yourself feel better."

Olivia's hands were balled up now, her fists shaking as her knuckles paled to a light brown. "Have you ever done something you didn't want to do because you knew that you had to do it? That's the way I feel about my son and violence. I will protect him, however I must, but I will hate what I have to do."

She pressed her fists into her legs and added, "Just who are you to judge, based on a few moments of conversation? You don't know me, or my son, or even what it means to utterly love someone who you would do anything to protect. So get off your high horse and try to empathize with someone else's feelings, instead of telling them what to do. I understand your military, but I've been told that they can think for themselves. Despite the brainwashing."

Yseult's barked laughter was bitter. "I've killed for love. Fourteen and I killed my-" The large woman snapped her mouth closed, teeth grinding together loudly. "Nevermind. So don't tell me what I do or don't know, I-"

"Ladies, c'mon, chillax." Hearing the rising voices, s techie, blond, blue-eyed, with SoCal good looks sauntered up to the two attractive women, a wide smile on his face. It did take a moment of effort to fight the ingrained male instinct and derail the apparently imminent cat-fight. "I know everyone's tense and on edge with all the happenings going on, but we're all professionals here, right? We'll have you home in a jiff, miss, I'm sure. And sergeant, we're counting on you on the mission to rescue Col. Sumner and the rest of the Expedition."

Yseult snorted, raised a brow as she gave the Tech the once over, then turned back to the rail, watching the activity on the floor below in front of the StarGate. She managed to give the impression of completely ignoring the Tech and Olivia while still being acutely aware of them. He might be worth looking up when I get back from fighting these 'wraiths'. Nice build for- Fuck! Why is Dylan talking to Sheppard? Shithead better not be thinking he's coming along.

[z-Olivia Jenings-Izumi]

Olivia did her best to ignore the terrible woman after that. Clearly being in the military had given her a sense of entitlement. Bored and now pissed, too, Olivia sat stiffly on the chair they'd gotten for her.

"Hey, you." The crabby voice that intruded on her already dark thoughts signaled that the day was not about to get any better. The man glaring down at her had a square face with dark hair and small, angry eyes. Like the bitch she'd already had words with, he had a Canadian flag on his arm. "Are you the moron that did a triple-axle into delicate Lantean Technology?"

Something inside of Olivia snapped. Surging to her feet, she asked, "Is everyone here an asshole? No wonder Vinny got assigned here! It's like some fucking nightmare! Who are you people and what rock when you crawl from under? I don't understand how this expedition managed to go to one of the politest countries on earth and find every jerk and morally superior specimens they had available!"

"I will take that as a yes," the man snarked back, apparently unmoved by her tirade. "Now, if you could gather what wits you have and show me what you broke, I can go about fixing it, hmm?"

Shaking with rage, frustration and sheer emotional exhaustion, Olivia sat back down. "No," she said. "Not until my knee is better. Then I'll take you down the billions of stairs I climbed just hours ago!"

"Next time, maybe you should stay put instead of hurting yourself," the man replied. Folding his hands over the computer tablet he carried, he added, "Isn't that what you're supposed to do when lost? Wait to be found? However, Elizabeth's already cleared it, and you will go down with me to find it, even if I have to carry you." He paused and looked a bit awkward as he added, "Well, I mean... I wouldn't do it. I get a backache just carrying my pack, which is designed for my back. Ergonomically, I mean."

His rambling gave her a chance to regather herself; the angry flush that had colored her face had now receded. "Fine. If Dr. Weir wants me to, fine. But I didn't hurt my knee on the stairs."

"Oh?" he asked. "I assume when you bounced off of what will no doubt prove to be a great scientific discovery, if we can salvage it?"

Olivia decided that she hated him. Staring him in the eyes, she sat up as straight as she could and said, "No, some bastard decided it'd be funny to watch me beg for my life on broken knees."

The smug look fled from the man's face. He blinked at her, clearly at a loss for words. "Well," he managed to say, "well, um... just be ready to go in twenty minutes. Right, then." He turned and hurried away.

Olivia relaxed a little. She'd enjoyed shocking someone, perhaps a little too much. With a sigh, she buried her face in her hands and tried to calm down. Being snappy and overwrought wasn't going to help anyone.

[Dawn OOC]

Vinny pulled Sheppard aside. “Somethin’ to show ya,” he told the pretty boy. Word had gotten around that the diplomat wasn’t allowing a rescue mission. Just went to show what happened when you put a civilian in charge. They were all peace and hugs until things got tough. Well, maybe if the major leaned on the diplomat, she’d do the right thing.

Twenty minutes later, McKay pulled Weir into the shuttle bay. “Where is he?” she asked McKay as they entered the bay together.

“Right here,” Sheppard said over the intercom. As they spun in another circle, the shuttle phased into sight. Sheppard sat in the pilot’s seat, while Vinny lounged next to him in insolent haughtiness. His gaze said, Did you really think I wouldn’t tell him?

After a moment, Weir nodded, reluctantly.

Events moved rapidly. Sheppard gathered up all the volunteers he was taking. There were a few odd choices, including Dylan Harvey. But whatever the engineer had said to Sheppard seemed to have convinced the major to allow him to come along. Sgt. Moneau seemed especially displeased by his inclusion, but Maj. Sheppard didn’t ask her advice on personnel.

Vinny was brought as the second pilot. Sheppard didn’t necessarily ask him, but he really didn’t need to ask him either. He knew that the Captain was good for it.

“We have the gate coordinates,” Sheppard said to the gathered volunteers. “We’re not sure what we’ll find there, or what kind of enemy we’ll be facing. But our people are there, and we’ll get them back.” He didn’t offer them another chance to turn back. He didn’t need to.

They boarded the ship, eager and somber. Vinny and Sheppard took the front two seats, Vinny after having displaced an uppity lieutenant. Sheppard guided the ship down through the hole in the floor as Vinny watched jealously. “Dial her up, Captain,” Sheppard ordered, and Vinny scowled as he became the fuckin’ gate operator to the pretty boy. Regardless, he did as ordered and punched in the symbols. Before them, the StarGate hummed and chimed, then exploded into color and light. As those remaining behind watched, Sheppard eased the ship forward and into the warp.

They came out over a planet. Sheppard had mentioned this, but it still brought looks of wonder from the others – save Vinny. This used to be his day job.

They settled into an orbit over the planet. Vinny wondered where they should land, and a display popped up revealing a red dot on the northern continent. As Sheppard angled toward it, the lieutenant, Ford by his tag, leaned forward and said, “Do you have a plan for finding them when we get there?”

“I’ve been thinking about that,” Sheppard replied, seconds before a hatch at his elbow opened. One near Vinny’s elbow also opened, revealing an identical white device. Sheppard pocketed the one closest to him and Vinny did the same. “Now, I’m thinking about a nice turkey sandwich.” He paused and looked around expectantly.

When nothing happened, Ford said softly, “It was worth a try, sir.”

Five minutes later, Sheppard had them on the ground. “You,” he said, pointing to a cluster of airmen, “stay here. The rest of you, follow me.”

The subplot continues here...

Click to reveal..

Those he ordered along are the PCs, interestingly enough. I need Perc+Awarenesses from all. Feel free to elaborate on the approach to the Wraith ‘hill-city’.

[Sgt. Yseult Moreau]

Originally Posted By: Olivia

"No, some bastard decided it'd be funny to watch me beg for my life on broken knees."

Still keeping her eyes down on the Gate room floor, Yseult's back tensed, hand tightening on the railing. She heard the truth in Olivia's voice... and the steel. At that point, she decided that there was a reason to get to know the dusky-skinned scientist more, despite her morally superior, lovey-dovey 'pacifist' tendencies. Maybe when she got back, and was off baby-sitting duty.

When Sheppard started gathering the troops, Yse took a quick swing by medical first. One of the squints was studying an arm from one of these 'wraiths' and she wanted to know what he found out about it. She didn't mind squints - really - just not out in the field where danger could be around any corner, where it didn't even need any cover to hide.

Deciphering what the doctor, Beckett, was saying took a bit - he sounded like a Newfie plastered with Screech or you know, Scottish - but she learned what he knew. That they were potentially ageless was a curiosity, but not really interesting. Movies to the contrary, there was a limit to how much experience benefited you - surprisingly soon, most fights ended up looking the same. That they were extremely tough and could regenerate was noted with more importance. It would take extra shots to bring the fuckers down and when they were on the ground, she'd shoot them again, to make sure. None of this playing possum shit.

When Yseult got to the hangar bay, and saw Dylan there, she couldn't keep the scowl from her face. Wonderful, little lost squint-boy is looking to play hero to impress his 'woman'. Now I got something else to look out for - don't want the pissant to be killed on my account.

Yseult settled in the back of the puddle-jumper, lounging silently with arms folded, pretty face smooth with a focused ease. She was fine without a window seat and having to endure the smugness of the pilots, though Sheppard was a cute one. When Ford was expelled from the cockpit and sat down next to her, she gave him a tiny grin, bumping his shoulder with her own. Maybe Dylan would get the idea, and move on, like she did.

Then they were on the ground and all thoughts of Dylan as her unintentional and unwanted husband faded. Now he was simply a member of the squad, someone whose back she was covering and expecting the same in return.

Click to reveal.. (I spy with ice cold eyes...)

Perception + Awareness: 7d10.hits(7) = 3 successes

Yseult snapped her Barret XM500 Sniper Rifle together and slung it over her back, in case they needed the heavier firepower, then glided forward, P-90 held up, braced securely against her shoulder.

The sky was a deep blueish-grey colour, like a clouded over dusk, the towering, bare boned trees making the shadows that much deeper. The terrain wasn't really that rugged, though the air was heavy and oppressive. Still, it was a far cry from hunting Taliban through the broken mountains of Afghanistan, dry and sandy.

[Dylan Harvey]

While they were in transit Dylan stood int he cockpit analyzing the ship. Like the chair it seemed to have a thought interface. What was great about that was while he wouldn't be allowed to take the chair apart they had plenty of these...Puddle Jumpers. He might actually be able to engineer a interface controlled by thought. Then they saw the mountain. Had the wraith hollowed it out over centuries? Now Dylan switched to soldier mode. He sat down in the back and checked all his gear. He looked to Yseult and she could see his face had taken on the disciplined look that soldiers acquire during training. He gave her a simple nod.

When Sheppard called for them to move out he braced the P90 and moved forward. Although he kept an eye all around he made sure not to turn his gun immediately at a new sound. They had said the wraith could get in to your head and make you hear and see things. His finger kept twitching to set the P90 to single shot. He was a pretty good marksman and wondered with the wraiths ability to regenerate if direct shots to certain organs would have more affect. Then he reminded him self that aside from the head he had no knowledge where this species important organs were.

Click to reveal..

Perception + Awareness: 5 dice

(11:12:28) ChatBot: (Dylan) rolls 5d10 and gets 4,2,3,7,9.

Total: 2 sux

[Dawn OOC]

"Wright, stay here," Sheppard ordered. "If I don't make it, you are responsible for getting everyone home. Harvey, Ford and Moreau, with me. Everyone else, guard the ship and wait for orders." He looked at the sudden expression on Yseult's face and said, "Problem, sergeant?"

Yseult choked back her retort and said, “No sir.”

“Let’s go, then.” The small group moved forward, pushing through the strangely gray planet. Sheppard took the point, with Ford bringing up the rear. Both Harvey and Moreau were side-by-side, but their history didn’t matter anymore.

They worked their way up the hill and into a cave, finding themselves in a very organic room. No one said it, but it was like walking into a living beast, and not in a good way. The four moved forward until they reached a major hallway. Sheppard halted them and pulled out the data pad. Harvey, having obtained the one from Wright, pulled out another and watched as Sheppard determined that it was a life-signs detector.

“I see two groups,” Sheppard whispered. “Harvey?”

“Yeah, I see a large group and one off by itself.” Dylan glanced at him, waiting for orders.

“Right,” Sheppard replied. “Ford with me, you two go find the lone life sign. Don’t try to rendezvous with us, just get the prisoner and get out of here. Understood?”