Storytime with Rachel F Hundred

John took a seat at the conference table with a sigh as the wolf prowled the room restlessly, providing a guard.  He’d barely slept, too aware of the Wraith which Hermiod had identified.  He’d decided to leave informing the senior staff until morning, believing some of them needed to get some rest without the nightmare of knowing there was a Wraith on the planet with them. 

Caldwell had actually approved of the decision.  He’d also insisted on John staying for the chili and cornbread.  He was sure it would have been delicious if he hadn’t felt sick to his stomach at the idea of a Wraith too near to his people.

Radek bustled into the room first, juggling a laptop, a tablet and a go-cup.  He slumped into a seat with a grimace.  “When is Rodney coming back?”

“Not soon enough,” quipped John.  He really missed Rodney.

“He will owe me,” Radek swore. 

Teyla and Lorne entered together chatting about the Ganara trade mission if John interpreted Teyla’s commentary correctly.

Heightmeyer looked pensive as she entered and slid into a chair at the far end of the table.  Alicia followed after her, sliding into the seat next to her colleague.  She finally looked as though she’d gotten some sleep.

Miko walked in, breathless, her attention still on her laptop.  John watched amused as Radek caught hold of her elbow and directed her into a chair.

Finally, Caldwell strode in and took the remaining empty seat.  

“Thank you all for coming,” John said politely.  “We have a few topics to cover.  First on the agenda is the sensor sweep of Atlantis, then we’ll cover the issue with the pods.”  He turned to Radek.  “Are the internal sensors working across the city now?”

“I managed to complete the sensor sweep.  All sections of Atlantis are clear and our internal sensors are monitoring for any signs of Wraith,” Radek confirmed.  “There are no Wraith in the city as far as our sensors can tell but I remind you that our sensors cannot detect hibernating Wraith.”

“The Daedalus’ scans can and they also reported that the city is clear of Wraith,” John informed him.  “Good work, Radek.”

Radek sat back, looking pleased.

“Unfortunately, because the Daedalus’ scans can sense hibernating Wraith, they did pick up on a hibernating Wraith life sign elsewhere on the planet,” John informed the room.

A murmur of horror swept over everyone who hadn’t known.

“Where?” demanded Radek, lurching forward and going straight to his laptop.

“There’s a Wraith ship, smaller than a Hive but still substantial.  It’s deep in the ocean and likely crashed a long time ago, probably during the war with the Ancients,” Caldwell reported.

“It’s less than a kilometre distance to some kind of mobile drilling station on the floor of the ocean,” John said tersely.

Radek frowned and pushed his glasses up.  “The station was used as a secondary power conduit to Atlantis.  We read reports about it but have not had the time to focus on finding it.  The city has drifted away from the mining station due to the ocean currents, the umbilical is no longer attached, and we can no longer utilise the power it would provide.”

“But the power boost would be good,” Miko added.  “The ZPM has provided us with some power, but Atlantis works best when three ZPMs are configured to work in tandem.  Reinstalling the power from the drilling station would be immensely helpful.”

“A problem for another day,” John said.  “Let’s just focus on the Wraith.”

Miko inclined her head, but there was a glint in her eye that told John she’d remind him of the power thing once they were done.  “Can’t we have the Daedalus beam the Wraith from the planet and into the sun?”

“Hermoid already tried,” Caldwell responded.  “They believe that because the Wraith ship is covered by a large amount of silt from the planet’s surface, it’s magnetic qualities are interfering with the ability to get a lock on the life sign.”

“What are our options?” asked John, scanning everyone up and down the table.

“Can we get to the ship and eliminate the threat?” asked Lorne. 

“Beaming is not an option,” Caldwell reiterated.

“We could take a ‘jumper, theoretically they are also meant to act as underwater vessels although we have never attempted such a thing,” Radek suggested.  “We would potentially need to modify one to accommodate the pressure of the ocean.”

“Or we could leave the Wraith where it is,” Alicia spoke up.  She raised her hands from the table briefly.  “It’s been there all this time without us knowing.  Is there any need for us to poke the bear?”

“It’s an option,” Heightmeyer jumped in.  “Maybe not a popular one but as far as we know this Wraith will remain hibernating unless we disturb it.”

“It’s too deep to survive swimming to Atlantis,” Radek said, peering at his laptop where he’d likely accessed Hermiod’s scans.  “But it might be able to get to the mobile drilling station and I am not comfortable that if we went there, the Wraith would not sense us and try to get to us.”

“I do not believe leaving any Wraith alive on this planet is a good idea,” Teyla countered. 

“We can do what we’re doing with the viable pod,” Alicia said, “monitor it.  If it moves, we take it out.”

“I could try to make a mental connection,” Teyla began.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Heightmeyer shook her head.  “If you reach out to its mind, you may wake it.”

They all turned to look at John.

The wolf looked over from its guarding position by the door.  Somehow John knew it wouldn’t tolerate a threat nearby for long.  He had the feeling that his soulmate was a military man.

Atlantis nudged his mind with her own unhappiness and John mentally sighed.

“I’m not a fan of just leaving a Wraith on the planet,” John said out loud, but he knew they just didn’t have the resources to handle it – not if they were going to resume gate missions.  He turned to Caldwell.  “Colonel, could you and the Daedalus take lead on this?  I’d like that Wraith neutralised and at present only the Daedalus has the tech to monitor it.”

Caldwell looked momentarily surprised, but he nodded.  “I’ll have my team work up some options.  If we could have access to a ‘jumper and a pilot?”

John nodded.  “I can assign Sergeant Markham temporarily to support.  Radek, is Doctor Bryce available?”  Bryce had the best knowledge of the jumper tech outside Radek and himself.

“She can be,” Radek confirmed, pushing his glasses up his nose.  “I will assign her.”

Caldwell nodded.  “Thank you.”  He turned to John.  “I’ll keep you updated.”

The wolf gave an approving snort.

“Thank you, Colonel,” John said.  He glanced over at Teyla.  “I’d like you to focus on getting the Ganara mission sorted.  You don’t need to put yourself through connecting with a Wraith again.”

Teyla inclined her head.

He tapped the table.  “Moving on, let’s tackle our second problem.  Alicia, you successfully opened the non-viable pod?”

“Yes,” Alicia picked up her tablet.  “DNA results confirm that the body is Elizabeth Weir.”

John kept the relief he felt that it wasn’t Rodney from showing on his face.  The wolf lurched to its feet and padded over to John, sitting down beside him.

“I’d say the cause of the death is old age which given the pod was meant to prevent that suggests a pod malfunction,” Alicia said dryly.  “I asked Doctor Kusanagi to take a look at the pod.”

“I believe the power source failed,” Miko proposed.  “When it did, the cryogenic field was disrupted and the revival process began automatically.  I believe the pods are meant to automatically unlock at the end of the cycle, but the pod did not.”

“Given the lack of other injuries, I don’t believe this Weir was ever fully conscious before she died which was a blessing,” Alicia stated. 

John shuddered at the idea of waking up in the pod, unable to get out and slowly running out of oxygen.  It was the stuff of nightmares.   “Why did the pod fail?”

Miko sighed and shook her head.  “It is hard to say.”

John lifted an eyebrow.

“We don’t have schematics,” Miko continued, “and what we do know is based on the research Doctor McKay did in Antarctica on the pod which General O’Neill utilised and the instructions his counterpart left in the note.” She paused and bit her lip.  “However, it is unlikely that the pod simply failed.”

Radek hummed an agreement.  “We will need to do a full analysis.”

Miko nodded.  “I have initiated the diagnostic, but it may take some time to analyse the results.”

“OK,” John murmured, “what about the other pod?”

“Its power source is holding steady,” Radek confirmed.  “I would like to know what caused the other power source to fail to ensure we can monitor for it.”

John nodded. 

“Or we could prevent the risk of losing another pod and revive Doctor McKay,” Alicia argued.

John repressed the urge no matter how much he wanted to sigh out loud.  He wanted to revive McKay, he did, he wanted it too much.  The wolf pushed its head against his leg.

“Before we make that decision, I’d like to over what we’ve learned from the video journals,” John said.

Lorne shifted after a shared glance with Miko and Heightmeyer and began.  “There are forty-seven logs in total.  The majority, twenty-eight, are recorded by Major John Sheppard in the month prior to the cryogenic freezing and during the evacuation of the Ancients back to Earth.  Ten are recorded by Doctor Elizabeth Weir, and the rest by Doctor McKay.”  He paused.  “Only Doctor McKay recorded logs after the evacuation.”

John swallowed the questions that stormed through him. 

“Our key finding is that we do not believe it was time travel,” Miko said softly.

“There are minor discrepancies,” Lorne noted.  “Your own ID and appearance, Weir’s hair is dyed blonde, and some of the individuals they noted as being on the Expedition were not part of ours.”  

Heightmeyer cleared her throat.  “We’ve established a timeline.”  She tapped something on her tablet and everyone else’s beeped with an incoming document.

John opened it briskly.  The presentation was basic, but it did the job.

“Prior to their arrival on Atlantis, it seems their Expedition, which we will call Universe Beta for simplicity, followed a similar path to ours,” Heightmeyer continued.  “Doctor Weir provided a potted history of the world and the Stargate programme over two of her journals.  The Stargate programme was founded around the same time as ours, and events followed a similar path leading to the Expedition.”

“The main point of divergence is our soul animals,” Miko said.  “Doctor Weir commented that it was a shock to see the Ancients walking around with their soul animals and that they seemed to consider herself, Sheppard and McKay abominations as they didn’t have them and had never heard of them before.”

“Given the belief that they had travelled in time, her theory was that evolution had eliminated the ability of humans to see soul animals,” Heightmeyer said, “although she also debated whether only those with the ATA gene would have had manifestations of their souls in the same way as the Ancients.”

And that was a disturbing thought.

“Three of Doctor Weir’s journals are dedicated to documenting what she was able to learn about soul animals from the Ancients,” Heightmeyer said crisply.  “The rest of her journals are about Ascension which seems to have been a personal interest.”

“Major Sheppard focused the majority of his journals on potential threats to the Expedition,” Lorne said.  “The majority are on the Wraith; I have Lieutenants Cadman and Vega transcribing all the details to our own files.” He grimaced.  “One of his journals was about nanites which took human form; they sound too much like human form Replicators.  The Ancients created them to fight the Wraith, but they became too aggressive and they burned the planet from space.”

“Did they destroy them?” John asked urgently, rubbing his forehead.

“The Ancients believed they had, but…”

“But?” prompted John.

“It only takes one to survive,” Lorne said simply.  “We know that from SG1’s experience with the Replicators in our own galaxy.”

“Great,” John muttered.

“Major Sheppard provided their home address and recommends we block it from our own ‘gate travel,” Lorne concluded.  “He basically suggested a do not engage notice.  I’m inclined to agree with him.”

“Agreed,” John said.

“There’s also a tribe of rogue Asgard apparently in Pegasus,” Heightmeyer said dryly.  “Sheppard suggested turning his information there over to the Asgard we do know and letting them deal with them.”

John blinked back his surprise.  “OK.”

“Beyond that,” Lorne jumped back in, “Major Sheppard documented their time in Atlantis…”

“With occasional side commentary from Doctor McKay,” Miko offered John a small smirk, “their relationship seems to be one of friendly banter and mockery much like your own with our McKay.”

John couldn’t stop himself from blushing.  He ignored Caldwell’s amused look. 

“Sheppard gave a more detailed account of their arrival in Atlantis than the summary you heard,” Heightmeyer said.  “The Expedition arrived and the city started to light up as gene carriers were recognised.  He said they were all giddy exploring for around thirty minutes until McKay was able to access the systems and got the read on the shield and the power situation.”

“Unlike when we arrived, the shield failure was imminent,” Miko said, “there was a recall to the ‘gate room to prepare for immediate evac, but before a gate address could be determined, the shield fell.”

“Bulkheads began to deploy cutting off most of the Expedition who without any other way out, drowned,” Lorne continued solemnly.  “McKay managed to get a group through the ‘gate to Athos.  He stayed behind dialling the ‘gate until the room was flooded.”

“Sheppard and Radek had found the puddlejumper bay just as the shield failed,” Miko said.  “They realised they had an alternate way to evacuate.  Doctor Weir was sent to them by McKay as soon as the ‘gate room began to flood.”

“They realised one of the jumpers was different, they took it and managed to rescue McKay from the ‘gate room before he drowned,” Heightmeyer said.  “Before they could dial Athos, the jumper…jumped.”

“They ended up in space above Atlantis and under fire,” Lorne said.  “They engaged the Hive ship, managed to destroy it but took a hit.  They went down and crashed into the ocean.  Their Zelenka died of a head injury.”

“They all sustained injuries,” Heightmeyer said, “McKay was able to send a distress signal, but noted that they were stuck for several hours before the Ancients rescued them.”  She paused.  “Once they recovered, they were brought before the Atlantean Council who denied them the option of returning via time travel to the future.  A Council member named Janus befriended them and helped them plan to remain on Atlantis despite the Council’s intent to abandon the city and return to Earth.”

“The cryogenic pods,” John stated.

Lorne nodded.  “Janus also arranged for non-vital systems to be switched off and for the ZPMs to switch to sequential use to maintain Atlantis’ shield.  They programmed the pods to open when they needed to manually rotate them.”

“Janus was also the one who programmed the failsafe into the city’s system,” Heightmeyer added.

“Our Expedition landed a full day ahead of the shield failure,” Miko stated, “and we blocked off access to the area of the city with the pod labs soon after.”

John sat back in his chair as he considered their summary.  Their own arrival had been a nightmare, but to arrive and lose most of the Expedition to drowning?  He couldn’t imagine it.

“That explains how they got into the pods and why we haven’t discovered them until now,” John said, “but why are there only two rather than three?”

Lorne exchanged another quick glance with Heightmeyer and Miko.

It was Heightmeyer who took the lead.  “Doctor McKay’s journals cover the first and second time the pods were opened for the manual transfer of power.”

“The first time went as planned and all but one of his journals comes from that time,” Miko said quietly.  “The pods opened; the three of them manually rotated the ZPMs.  They performed a series of system checks.  They realised that the Council had corrupted the database index and both Sheppard and McKay stayed out of the pod for a period of time trying to fix it before determining they’d need more time than their food stores allowed.  They had to resume their time in the pods.” She sighed.  “McKay left the data he had collected; it may prove helpful in re-establishing the index.”

John nodded.  “I take it the second time did not go to plan?”

Miko shook her head and she looked over to Lorne.

“McKay left one journal at the end of the second transfer saying that when he awoke, he discovered that Major Sheppard and his pod were both missing but that Weir had been awake for a number of days prior,” Lorne stated briskly.  “He questioned Weir and she claimed that the Major’s pod was missing when she awoke.  She had no idea why her pod had woken her up before him.”

“He checked whether there was any video footage from the internal cameras, but the feed had been disabled by Janus to protect them and there was none; McKay reinitiated it,” Miko continued. 

“McKay finally had to give up his investigation on why Sheppard and his pod were missing, and return to his own pod,” Lorne said.

Heightmeyer cleared her throat.  “I think we have to consider the possibility that McKay sabotaged Weir’s pod.  He was angry at her in his last journal and blamed her for the disappearance of Sheppard.”

“There is no evidence that he did anything,” Miko retorted.  “It would seem that her pod was already displaying instability given her early awakening on the second transfer.”

“The only way we’ll find out the truth is to revive him,” Alicia argued.

Lorne lifted a hand.  “We should take note from the journals that the cryogenic process slowed their aging but did not stop it.  McKay was aged when they were revived.  It is likely that McKay is a very old man now.  He may not even remember much if were to revive him.”

They all looked at John again.  That look of expectation was the top thing he hated about being in command, John thought sourly.  Still, this was an easy decision.

The wolf huffed beside him as though in agreement.

John smiled grimly.  “Revive McKay.”

o-O-o

Marshall resisted the urge to tug on his uniform jacket as he surveyed the IOA panel for the umpteenth time that day.

The room for the hearing was located in the bowels of the Pentagon.  At the top of the room was the long table with the panel of three IOA members, a Russian General called Chekov, and O’Neill.  The panel was being chaired by the U.S. liaison to the IOA, Richard Woolsey.  He’d previously been the chief counsel for the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers and had worked for the NID.  O’Neill had noted that he was pedantic pain in the ass, but one whose morals and ethics seemed to be in the right place.

Another long table faced the panel, curved at either end.  Marshall sat at the far left with Dillon; Dillon’s wheelchair had been accommodated by their leaving a space right at the end next to the aisle.  Dillon was in his uniform and he looked every inch an authoritative Marine Colonel, despite his aged appearance.

Weir sat on the far right, Beckett beside her and McKay between Beckett and Marshall.  Marshall was pleased his position allowed him to observe Weir fully.

Behind their table, rows of chairs had been placed neatly with an aisle down the middle.  Carter and Jackson had taken up residence in the front row behind Marshall and McKay.  Ethan sat just behind Dillon who had been thrilled to see him.  Marshall had enjoyed their reunion at breakfast and he was glad he’d been able to negotiate Ethan’s attendance. 

Behind Weir and Beckett were two of the scientists who had regularly added their own complaints to Weir’s; Doctor Peter Kavanaugh and Doctor Karen Simpson. 

Beyond the front row, the chairs had been filled by other members of the Atlantis Expedition who had requested to return, several members of the IOA staff, and veterans of the SGC.  Marshall had noted a General in the back row; Hank Landry was being touted as the likely new SGC CO. 

Marshall figured it was very telling that none of the military veterans of the SGC had chosen to sit close to the members of the IOA.

Most of the morning had been given over to Weir’s account of events.  With her statement over, she sat beside Woolsey, a picture of professionalism in a subdued grey pinstripe pantsuit teamed with a grey silk blouse.  Her statement hadn’t differed much from the bullshit Weir had already tried on Marshall.  She was the heroine of her story, Everett was the villain, and Sheppard, a misguided and reckless wild card who would be corralled once he was stripped of his military position and back under civilian leadership. 

Marshall had been marginally surprised that the soul gyrfalcon perched on the back of his own chair hadn’t attacked her.  Or maybe he was projecting too much of his own anger on to his soulmate, Marshall considered, because he could have quite happily ripped Weir to shreds.  McKay had glared at her so much that Marshall believed he was trying to set her on fire with the power of his own mind.

Dillon had given his own statement just before lunch.  It had been a measured and succinct accounting of events.  He had stuck to the facts, praising Sheppard’s out-of-the-box thinking in Pegasus, but also the contributions of the scientists and the other military assets in surviving against the odds.

After lunch, Beckett had delivered his statement and McKay had followed Beckett.  As neither Kavanaugh nor Simpson were senior staff they had been denied the opportunity to speak, but their written statements had been shared with the panel.

They’d taken a brief break for refreshments and it was over to the panel to ask questions. 

Woolsey peered at them through his glasses.  He shuffled the papers in front of him and regarded the panel briefly before turning back to them.  “The panel and I agreed that we will focus on resolving the larger complaint around the leadership of the Expedition first.”

O’Neill looked completely stoic.  He gave nothing away about the discussions the panel had already had about the statements.

Marshall folded his hands on top of the table and waited.

“Doctor Weir,” Woolsey directed his gaze toward her, “you make two claims in your complaint; firstly, that the military leadership was precipitous in invoking the clause which enabled them to take control of the Expedition, and secondly, that Major Sheppard acted without authority in the matter.  Does that summarise your complaint sufficiently?”

Weir leaned forward.  “Yes, Mister Woolsey.”

“Colonel Everett, you have stated that Major Sheppard had agreed to his commission being reactivated if the situation in Pegasus warranted an increased military command,” Woolsey began, “you’ve also shared General Hammond’s written statement that he had given you permission to do so ahead of the Expedition’s departure.” 

Dillon remained silent waiting for the questions.

Woolsey coughed.  “This panel finds no issue with John Sheppard’s field reactivation to the rank of Major in the U.S. Air Force.  With the death of Captain Brooks and Colonel Everett’s own injuries, there was a clear need for the military command to be bolstered and the relevant agreements were in place.”

Weir’s lips tightened, but she showed no other reaction.

“On the matter of whether the assumption of militarisation was precipitous,” Woolsey continued, “Colonel Everett, we would like clarification; did you explicitly order Major Sheppard to invoke the Charter clause?”

Dillon’s chin lifted.  “I ordered him to invoke the clause.”

Woolsey regarded him thoughtfully for a long moment.  “We have statements which say you told him to read the Charter, not to explicitly invoke the clause.”

“I don’t expect to have to spell out what I want to a Major with Sheppard’s IQ,” Dillon replied calmly.  “When I told him to read the Charter, I expected him to invoke the leadership clause.  He followed my intent.”

“He followed it twenty-four hours after your order,” Woolsey said.  “Why not straight away?”

Dillon lifted an eyebrow.  “I was unconscious during that period so I’m certain I can’t say.”

“Please speculate,” Woolsey requested firmly.

“Preparation would be one factor,” Dillon said, “Sheppard knew a lot about our unit because of his preparation for the Expedition, but he needed to familiarise himself fully with all of the personnel and detailed logistics of it after resuming his rank and commission.”  He gestured vaguely to the side.  “Additionally, life didn’t stop while he was doing so; events were taking place which required his attention.”

“Events which included a mission to retrieve a group of Athosians from their planet at the request of their leader, correct?” checked Woolsey.  “Major Sheppard concluded that mission by blowing up another Hive ship and returning with two Wraith corpses for examination.”

Another member of the panel sat forward; the British representative, a scientist called Chapman.  “Desecration of an enemy body is against the Charter.”

Beckett raised his hand.  “If I may, Major Sheppard knew we lacked intelligence about the enemy and about the effect of their feeding on a human body, the latter was impacting my ability to treat Colonel Everett and two other patients effectively.  He brought the bodies back for non-invasive examination only.  Both Wraith were treated with care and dignity.”

“Which is more than they would have given us,” McKay remarked loudly.

“Be that as it may, we cannot condone experimentation on a sentient being,” Chapman snapped.

“There was no experimentation,” Beckett reiterated strongly. 

“And they were dead!” McKay gesticulated at the panel wildly.  “It’s not like they were alive and we were probing their…”

“Rodney,” Beckett cut in sharply.

“Let’s move on,” O’Neill suggested calmly, “or rather let’s get back to the actual point of this discussion?”

Woolsey hurriedly nodded.  “Colonel Sumner, you’ve been asked to stand as an advocate for Major Sheppard and Colonel Everett in this matter.  How do you justify the decision to militarise the Expedition?”

Marshall kept his gaze on Woolsey.  “The civilian leadership had four days including the day of arrival to show that they could operate the Expedition effectively in hostile territory.  The evac plan had been devised by both civilians and military as part of the pre-planning.  The rescue mission was not.  Both Major Sheppard and Doctor McKay are credited as responsible for the plan in reports filed at the time.”

He allowed a moment for the panel to consider the contradiction with Weir’s statement which took credit for it.

“Many of the reports noted Doctor Weir’s reluctance to agree to the rescue and that the mission was delayed by up to five hours beyond the initial discussion,” Marshall continued.  “Based on the information she had at the time, I believe the majority of military officers would have authorised the mission when first presented with the plan.”

“I agree,” Chekov’s voice rumbled across the room. 

Weir flushed in response.

“Once our people were back from the mission, the civilian leadership proceeded to act as though the Expedition had not met with a hostile enemy,” Marshall said.  “They failed to implement basic security measures in the city leading to the release of a dangerous energy creature which had to be lured through the Stargate at the risk of several personnel including Doctor McKay.” He took a breath.  “They failed to adequately assess the risk of allowing the Athosians back through the ‘gate to where the last sighting of the enemy had been.  Moreover, both Lieutenant Briscoe and Sergeant Ferry reported lodging complaints and objections about decisions made, but nothing was noted in the official record.”  

“They were not members of the senior staff,” Weir asserted.

Marshall looked at her briefly.  “At the time, Colonel Everett was indisposed, Sheppard had not been reactivated, and Lieutenant Briscoe was the highest-ranking active military officer on the city.”  He gestured as he met Woolsey’s gaze again.  “Given all these factors, I believe the civilian leadership failed to prove itself capable of providing the security required for the Expedition when faced with a hostile enemy.  I believe Major Sheppard understood this when he followed Colonel Everett’s order.”

“But you can’t know for certain,” Chapman claimed crisply.

“He can’t, but I can,” McKay said bluntly.  “John spoke to me the night before the senior staff meeting when he invoked the clause.  He told me that if security measures had already been adequately implemented, he’d have held off until Everett was back on his feet, well obviously not literally on his feet since you know wheelchair, but you know, recovered, uh…”

O’Neill rolled his eyes.  “McKay.”

McKay snapped his mouth shut.

Marshall cleared his throat.  “I would add though that if I had been assigned to the Expedition and on my feet after the first run-in with the Wraith, I would have invoked the clause regardless of whether the civilian leadership was capable or not.”

Shen Xiaoyi, the Chinese representative, leaned forward.  “Please explain, Colonel.”

“The clause states, and I quote; ‘In the event that the Expedition encounters a hostile enemy which is a threat to the safety of the Expedition, leadership will revert to the military command, with the highest-ranking military officer assuming command.’”  He lifted an eyebrow.  “As soon as the Expedition met the Wraith, the condition for the military assuming command had been met.”

He let that sink in for a moment.

“The Charter went through twenty-two revisions,” Marshall continued, “it was signed off by all the IOA representatives, their country leaders, the Department of Homeworld Security, and the SGC CO.  During that time, this clause was revised a total of zero times from the initial draft.”

Weir was glaring at him.

“There are no other conditionals placed on the act,” Marshall said.  “It does not state that the highest-ranking military officer must invoke the clause, or that there must be a clear order given to do so if it is their deputy who does it,” he went on dryly.  “It does not state that the military must justify invoking the clause out-with the main conditional that the Expedition has encountered a hostile enemy which is a threat.  That condition was met when the evac team met the Wraith.”

He glanced over at Weir challengingly. 

“I would have invoked the clause as soon as I got boots back on Atlantis,” Marshall said clearly.  “It is why Colonel Everett made it a point with Sheppard for him to read the Charter.” He raised his hands briefly before settling them back on the table.  “I give Major Sheppard leeway on the immediacy of his act given his reactivation and that transitioning from his civilian position back to his military rank cannot have been easy.  In his shoes, I can appreciate him wanting not to have to take that step without his CO awake and aware.  I give him credit that he took that step anyway based on a judgement call that the civilian leadership was clearly incompetent in securing the safety of the Expedition.”

“I object,” Weir said furiously.

“To which part, Doctor Weir?” Shen drawled.  “The incompetence charge, the lack of conditions to assume command, or the fact that he’s right about both?”

Weir was visibly taken aback.  She took a breath.  “I’ll come back to the incompetence allegation,” she said, “but to be clear, I did not ask for conditions on the clause because I assumed wrongly that everyone understood that it was a last resort.”

“Well, you know what they say about assumptions,” Dillon commented dryly.  “Exactly what constituted ‘last resort’ in your mind, Doctor Weir?  When the enemy was in our solar system?  When they were banging on the ‘gate?  When they were in the city?  Or how about when we met them on a ‘gate mission?  When they attacked and killed our people?  Was that the last resort?  Because I can tell you that latter one was mine.”

Weir glared at Dillon.  “We clearly have a difference of opinion about that.”

Woolsey coughed loudly.  “I think the discussion raises a good point that the specificity of the clause was lacking, and Colonel Sumner’s assertion is correct to the letter of the clause as it stands.”

“I think we are all agreed,” Chekov said.  “The military had the right to invoke the clause.”

Woolsey did a sweep up and down the panel either side of him and Marshall breathed out slowly in relief as they all confirmed the panel’s judgement had come down in favour of Dillon and Sheppard.

“Then, may I address the issue of incompetence?” asked Weir stridently. 

Woolsey adjusted the papers in front of him.  “You realise, Doctor Weir, that the panel is not charging you with a complaint of incompetence?”

“I realise that the panel has just debated and agreed that the military was justified in invoking the clause, and that statements alleging incompetence as a factor in that justification are part of that official record,” Weir fired back.

Woolsey looked momentarily discomfited. “Very well.”

Weir slanted a look toward Marshall before she leaned forward, hands clasped in front of her.  “The security measures I proposed during our initial days on Atlantis were sufficient for the Expedition.  However, the Athosians did not abide by those measures and mistakes were made.”

“That’s just not true!” McKay blurted out.  “There were no security measures!  You refused to allow Lieutenant Briscoe to enact patrols to maintain a perimeter!  You allowed the Athosians to leave the city despite Sergeant Ferry, the tech guy and me warning you not to let them without at least checking with Teyla first!”

Weir frowned at McKay.  “I didn’t realise I had to run security measures past you, Rodney, but I assure you they were in place.”

“Were you aware, Doctor Beckett?” asked Shen.

Beckett squirmed in his seat.  He cast an unhappy glance at Weir before shaking his head.  “No, I was not.”

“How many injuries did you have to treat from the Expedition due to their unconstrained exploration of the city after the rescue mission returned and prior to Sheppard taking control, Doctor Beckett?” Marshall jumped in.

Beckett sighed and rubbed his head.  “Too many.  Perhaps twenty, twenty-five, including Rodney getting stuck in a personal shield?”

McKay went bright red.

“It seems that a great number of people were not aware they were in place,” Marshall said.  “And if they were, why were they not documented?  There is no record of any protocols being enacted before Sheppard took command.”

“It was a busy time,” Weir countered defensively.  “We weren’t able to document every decision.”

“I think we can all agree a lack of documentation is unacceptable,” Shen slid her verbal parry in smoothly.  “As is your senior staff being unaware of the protocols which you say were in place.  These are not signs of competence.”

Weir frowned.  “The oversights would have been addressed in time.”

“Doctor Weir,” Woolsey said firmly, “your admission that these were oversights lends weight to the military’s position that your protocols were insufficient.”

The silence was deafening.

“On the matter of the leadership of the Expedition, the panel is satisfied that the military assumption of command was in line with the Charter and was justified,” Woolsey concluded.  “We’ll adjourn for the day and resume tomorrow on specific complaints regarding individual missions.” 

He had no gavel to pound but Woolsey’s calm sweep of papers into his arms and graceful exit was quickly followed by the other panel members, even O’Neill who offered no more than a quirky half-smirk in Marshall’s direction as he strode out.

Weir waited until most of the peanut gallery behind them was gone before she turned to Beckett and McKay, furious.  “What was that?  It was bad enough your statements were so…”

“Factual?” offered Marshall dryly.

Weir glared at him before turning back to the two men.  “You didn’t have to contradict me in front of the panel!”

Beckett ducked his head, but McKay met her head on.

“Did you expect us to lie, Elizabeth?” McKay demanded.

“I expected some loyalty,” Weir said angrily.

McKay bristled like a porcupine.

“No, you expected them to lie for you,” Marshall interrupted before McKay blew up and gave away the strategy they’d worked out.

“This is between myself and the members of my team,” Weir said, “please stay out of it.”

Dillon snorted beside Marshall.  “Come on, Marshall, I’d like to get the hell out of here.  Let’s take my godson to dinner.”

Marshall finished packing up, half-listening in as Beckett interrupted Weir berating McKay and dragged McKay out of the room to ostensibly get food of their own. 

Ethan was already by Dillon’s side, chatting away.  They slowly made their way out of the room and towards the elevators.  The gyrfalcon flew ahead of them and snagged an empty elevator for them. 

Marshall happily got inside, leaving Dillon and Ethan to talk.  He almost gave a sigh of contentment as the soul bird landed on shoulder, a comforting weight of reassurance. 

The first day of the hearing was over and Marshall’s soulmate was in the clear for the major worry on assuming command.  He was confident he could defend Sheppard against the rest of Weir’s pettiness, especially as she’d shot herself in the foot with the panel.  He almost grinned at the memory.

Dillon cleared his throat loudly, capturing Marshall’s attention.  He looked over at his friend enquiringly.  Ethan was desperately trying not to laugh, his whole expression gleeful.

Dillon pointed a finger at Marshall’s shoulder, right at the gyrfalcon who pretended it hadn’t been caught by looking everywhere but Dillon. 

“Exactly when were you going to tell me that John’s soul animal was following you?” Dillon pinned Marshall with a hard stare, looking every inch like an angry father.  “Start talking, Marshall.  I want to know your intentions towards my second-in-command!”     

Oh shit.

o-O-o

John frowned at the image on the tablet.  He tapped the symbol for rewind and tilted his head, trying to listen to the words his counterpart wasn’t saying rather than the words being verbalised. 

The wolf nudged him. 

John snagged the earphones from his ears and turning to look in anticipation at the elderly man waking up in the infirmary bed next to John’s chair.

Rodney McKay had aged well; wrinkled for sure with liver spots dotting his skin, but with rheumy eyes which still shone with the intelligence McKay had never tried to hide.  Most importantly, he still had his hair.  It was grey and trimmed short, but it was there.  John was never telling his Rodney.

“John,” breathed McKay almost reverently.

John shifted to stand beside the bed, pushing his tablet onto the chair he left behind.  “Hey, Rodney.”

McKay’s gaze swept over him, darted to the wolf briefly, before it returned to John’s face.  He harrumphed.  “Not my Sheppard.”

“No,” John agreed, “but I am John Sheppard.”

“Future Sheppard?” checked McKay.

“Maybe,” John said quietly, “although my people think you jumped dimensions not just time.”

McKay wet his lips.

John hurriedly grabbed the cup of water and straw by McKay’s bedside and offered them to him.  He watched as McKay sipped eagerly before pushing the cup which John still held away.

“Thank you,” McKay murmured.  “Your people are wrong by the way.”

“Yeah?” asked John, baiting him a little because that was such a Rodney thing to say.

“We travelled in time,” McKay reiterated strongly, “if there are differences…we impacted the timeline more than we thought.  Or maybe SG1 impacted the timeline when they went back to 1969 or who knows if there have been instances which impacted.”

“Quantum theory…” began John.

“Oh, don’t get me started,” McKay interrupted grumpily.  “The guy who built the time machine believed it travelled within its own universe.  I’m going to take his word for it.”

It was almost like having his friend back in the city, John mused.  If he ignored how old McKay looked…how fragile.

“I should probably get Alicia in to check you over,” John said, not moving despite his words.

McKay’s brow furrowed.  “Not Carson?  Carson Beckett?”

“He’s on Earth debriefing,” John said.  “Alicia is his deputy.”

“Biron, no Biro?” McKay checked.

John nodded.  “I’ll, uh, just…” he waved behind him.

“Or you could sit down and ask me what you want to know,” McKay said sharply.

“You mean you ask me what you want to know,” John shot back as he shoved his hands in the pockets of his fatigue pants.

“That too,” McKay said.  He fidgeted with the edge of his blanket.  “Where am I?  I mean, not me, I’m on Atlantis I can tell, but Future Me?”

“Rodney’s on Earth,” John said.

“Let me guess, debriefing?” McKay sighed heavily.

“The whole senior staff,” John confirmed, rocking back a little on his heels.

McKay’s eyes narrowed on him.  “You’re not senior staff.”

John tilted his head.  “Was I senior staff on your mission?”

“Actually you were the light switch,” McKay said briskly.  

John smiled at that.  “My Rodney calls me the same thing.”

McKay hummed, but his mouth drooped and his gaze went distant.  “Sheppard was…we didn’t know each other much before we ‘gated.  When we ended up in the past…he was the only one of us the Ancients tolerated.  He protected us.”

“He said Janus befriended you?” probed John delicately.

McKay grimaced.  “He wanted in Sheppard’s pants.” 

“Ah,” John blushed unwillingly.

He motioned at the wolf.  “Janus had a soul animal, a jackal.  It would follow Sheppard around like a puppy.”

John frowned.  “Really?  Our soulmates’ animals only appear to us when we’re ready to meet.  They lead us to them.”

McKay’s eyebrows were almost at his hairline.  “You still see soul animals?”

John nodded.  “It’s one of the reasons why we think you dimension-hopped.”

McKay shrugged as best he could in the bed.  “The Ancients all had soul animals; their own would usually stick by their side like a…like a part of them.  I don’t recall them ever talking about soulmates.”

“But Janus’ soul animal followed your John,” John repeated.

“He liked John and it meant that Janus helped us,” McKay sighed.  “I should have known after the first ZPM change that everything was going too well.  I mean, the Ancients screwed up the database, but I can’t blame them for trying to protect it.  At least they didn’t destroy it completely.”

“When you woke up the second time your John Sheppard was missing,” John stated.

McKay nodded.  “Elizabeth was awake.  She shouldn’t have been awake.”

“You suspected her of doing something?” asked John bluntly.

McKay grimaced.  “I don’t know.  I…I don’t think she did anything.  Elizabeth is a kind woman under the professional bluster and she has ethics and morals so…no.  I mean, she hated that Janus liked Sheppard better – I think she was jealous, but I wasn’t sure if it was because she liked Sheppard or because she had a crush on Janus because he was Ancient.  But she isn’t really a jealous woman and…” he frowned suddenly, gaze darting around the infirmary room.  “Have you asked her?  Did you manage to revive her too?” 

John rubbed the back of his neck.  The wolf whined at his feet in sympathy.  “McKay…Rodney…”

McKay looked at him sharply and deflated like a balloon in the bed.  “She’s dead, isn’t she?”

And it didn’t look like McKay had sabotaged anything given his devastated reaction.

“Her pod lost power,” John explained. “Alicia doesn’t think she ever regained consciousness before she…she passed.”

McKay blinked back tears. 

“Do you know why her power cell would be unstable?” asked John bluntly.

McKay brushed a tear from his cheek almost angrily.  “Her pod was fine when I checked it over.”  He shook his head.  “The last time I spoke to her, I yelled at her.  I was so furious with her.”

“Because she couldn’t answer your question about what happened to your Sheppard,” John murmured.

McKay nodded.  He sniffled and John awkwardly offered him the tissue box.  There was a moment of silence broken only by McKay noisily blowing his nose.

“What do you think happened to him?” asked John.

McKay grimaced.  “Sheppard had a relationship with Atlantis that Elizabeth and I didn’t.”

John tried to keep his expression still.

“Yes,” drawled McKay pointing at his face, “that relationship.”

“You think something happened and Atlantis woke him up,” John guessed. 

It had happened to him a few times.  She’d woken him up when the scout Wraith had hidden on the city; when the Athosian kids had let out the energy creature; when Chaya had been wandering the halls of Atlantis.

He pushed the question to Atlantis who sent a wave of knowing back to him.  He sighed inwardly.  He should have figured it out himself, he mused, annoyed with himself.

The wolf gave a huffy sigh.

“I just don’t understand why he didn’t leave any message for us,” McKay said morosely.

“Maybe it was a question of timing,” John offered.  He could imagine if there was an emergency, he would have just acted.

McKay shook himself.  “You got my note?”

John nodded.

“Five addresses on the bottom…” McKay began, “your people figure out what they are?”

“Planets with ZPMs,” John said.  “We recognised the first one; we visited a few months ago.”

McKay’s eyes brightened.  “Did you find…”

“The ZPM was almost out of power,” John informed him gently. 

They’d debated over the issue for days, given the ethics.  Ultimately, they’d presented the choice to Keres and his tribe; relocation and gifting Atlantis the ZPM or remaining on their planet with the ZPM and the field fixed, but knowing that at some point in the near future it would fail again.  It had surprised John that they’d accepted the relocation.  Keres and his people were doing well with the Athosians.

“You weren’t able to use it?” asked a disappointed McKay.

“We were able to use it to send a message to Earth,” John said.  “It saved our lives when the Wraith attacked.”

“Were the journals Sheppard left useful?” asked McKay, hopeful.

“They’re fantastic,” John said sincerely, because they really were even if they were almost a year too late for the pre-emptive warning his counterpart had hoped they would be.  What they did provide was enough intelligence that they might be able to plan effective countermeasures.

“At least we’ve been of some use,” McKay blinked tiredly. 

“Is there a reason why you didn’t call me as soon as my patient woke up?” asked Alicia striding into the room.

McKay shot John a gleeful look at his getting into trouble.  “Alicia, right?”  He snapped his fingers.  “It’s good to see you.”

As though John hadn’t had to tell him who she was a few minutes before.

John stifled the urge to chuckle.  He was definitely Rodney.

Alicia hummed.  “I’m going to check you over,” she was already checking the monitors, “Major Sheppard will step out.”

“He doesn’t have to,” McKay said quickly.

John gave a small smile.  “I’ll step back over here.” 

He pointed at the far wall and made his way to lean against it, the wolf following him over and slumping to lie at his feet.  He could see McKay randomly dart looks in his direction, checking that he was there.

John folded his arms and considered what he’d learned – namely very little.  He’d ruled McKay out of the Weir death, realised that his counterpart had probably been alerted by Atlantis to deal with some problem that had likely ended up with him dying – although who knew what had happened to the pod – and…and he really, really missed his Rodney.  He could do with a friend.

The wolf got to its feet and pushed its nose into John’s hand as though reminding John he was there if John needed someone.  John stroked a hand over its head.  He was getting used to its comfort, he thought idly.

“Stop poking me, you witch doctor!” McKay whined loudly from the bed.

Alicia stepped back and walked over to John.  She kept her back to McKay and spoke in a low voice which wouldn’t carry back to McKay.  “He’s failing.”

Her blunt words took John aback.  He straightened up, shooting the old man in the bed a look.  “Really?  He seems fine.  Old but you know, Rodney.”

“The cryogenic field only slowed his aging,” Alicia said in a softer tone, “he’s very old and his body is in the final stages of failure.  I can make him comfortable but that’s all I can do.”

John rubbed his neck tiredly.  “Does he know?”

“He’s McKay,” Alicia said briskly, “of course he knows.”

John nodded.  “OK, thanks, Alicia.”

Alicia patted his shoulder and left.

John walked back to the bed and dragged the chair back into position.  He sat down.  “I still have a few questions?”

“I might fall asleep on you,” McKay warned.

“I’ll take the risk,” John said.  He leaned forward, hands clasped in front of him.  “When you woke the second time, Weir was awake.  Her pod woke her early.  Why?”

McKay looked up at the ceiling and shook his head a touch.  “I don’t know.”  He gestured weakly.  “Like I said I examined the pod but there didn’t seem to be anything wrong with it.  I asked her if she’d changed any of the settings and she denied it.”  He gave an ugly chuckle.  “All she was interested in was her obsession.”

“Her obsession?” John asked.

“Ascension,” McKay said sourly.  “For the record, that’s what she thought happened to Sheppard.”  He grimaced, a flicker of pain and discomfort moving across his wrinkled features.  “Janus once told Sheppard he was closer to Ascension than a lot of the Ancients on Atlantis.  She figured he just…went glowy one day.”

“Her journals were filled with various theories,” John noted.

“He wouldn’t have left us, not like that,” McKay sighed.  “Sorry, tired.”

“What happened with my counterpart’s pod?” John asked quickly.

“I don’t know that either,” McKay said with a humourless laugh.  “Maybe it went glowy too.  I don’t know anything.”  His eyes fluttered shut.

John checked McKay was still breathing and slowly blew out a breath.  He picked his tablet back up and put his earphones back in.  He listened inattentively to Sheppard’s information on the Wraith since it wasn’t the first time he’d watched the video.  Instead, he catalogued Sheppard’s appearance, trying to find a hint of how his counterpart had felt.

He switched videos, accessing the library to cue up Elizabeth Weir’s Ascension journals.  He was half-way through the second when movement in the doorway caught his attention; Teyla lurked there with a tray of food. 

He unhooked his earphones and paused the vid.  “Hey.”

Teyla inclined her head.  “I thought you might be hungry.”

John made to deny it but his stomach growled in appreciation.  He gestured at a small table to the side of the room.  They sat down and Teyla pushed the tray in his direction.

He immediately took a sip of the apple juice she’d brought him, grateful for its crisp taste.  He downed half the glass before picking up the cutlery and taking the cloche off the plate.  He smiled at the turkey club sandwich and straw fries.  He dug in happily.

Teyla sneaked a look back at McKay.  “How is he?”

“Old,” John swallowed his food, “but he’s McKay.”

“Alicia informed us that he would not have long with us,” Teyla said delicately.

“No,” John said simply, rubbing his fingers on the paper napkin provided. 

“You do not need to remain with him alone, John,” Teyla said softly.  “I consider Rodney a dear friend.”

“This Rodney doesn’t know you,” John pointed out. 

“I know you,” Teyla rejoined, arching a perfect eyebrow at him.

The wolf huffed as though he was laughing.

“I’ll be fine,” John said.

Teyla regarded him with a frown.

“How’s the prep for the Ganara trade going?” asked John, eager to change the subject.

Teyla shot him a knowing look, but she conceded the change of subject.  “Major Lorne has been very helpful.  We have assembled a team.  We would like to scout the Alpha site ahead of the trade mission, but that will require opening the ‘gate for travel.  He will speak to you about it.”

John winced at the idea, but with the only Wraith on the planet stuck on a ship miles and miles under the ocean he figured he really didn’t have an argument against resuming ‘gate travel.  He should probably speak to Lorne about getting a roster set up.

“Has he spoken about what happened to him and the others?” asked Teyla, switching the topic back with her usual deftness.

“He was genuinely upset about Weir so the theory he killed her is off the table,” John said.  He swallowed down another fry.  “He doesn’t know what happened to his Sheppard.  He thinks Atlantis might have nudged him awake.”

“As she sometimes does to you,” Teyla said.

John nodded.  His team had picked up on his weird relationship with the city, although they’d never pressed for details.

“His Weir’s theory was Ascension apparently,” John murmured.

“What do you think?” asked Teyla shrewdly.

“I think it’s more likely Atlantis woke him up to respond to a threat,” John admitted.  “If he didn’t return to the pod…I think he determined he had to remain awake to protect them.”

“You are not in favour of the Ascension argument,” Teyla said amused.

John shrugged.  “According to Weir’s own journal, Ascension is not something we humans can achieve without assistance and that’s definitely what Daniel Jackson – the one guy who did Ascend said in his reports about it.  I think it’s more likely Atlantis woke me – him up to deal with something than he Ascended.”

Teyla inclined her head gracefully.  “I cannot fault your argument, John.”  She leaned forward.  “Kanaan is jealous of Evan.”

“He is?” John’s lips twitched in amusement.

“Evan is very pretty,” Teyla said slyly, resting her chin on her fist, elbow on the table.  Her eyes sparkled with mischief. 

John shook his head, amused.  “Does Evan know you’re using him to seduce the love of your life?”

Teyla simply smiled.

John finished his meal gossiping with Teyla about the various love lives of the team.  He resumed his place at McKay’s side, although he continued to sleep.

He was almost done with Weir’s journals – he agreed with McKay that it was an obsession for her – when Teyla wheeled in Marvin.

“Marvin was bored,” Teyla said brightly.  “I thought he could keep you company for a while.”

“I thought you weren’t meant to leave the infirmary yet?”  John said, moving to help Teyla set things up by the table where they’d had lunch.

Ferry grimaced.  “Am I outside of the infirmary, sir?  No.”  He frowned at him.  “I thought for certain you’d have busted me out by now.”

“Alicia scares me,” John bantered back.

“You’re scared of Doctor Biro?” Ferry said in disbelief.

“So you are,” John pointed out dryly.

Ferry waved a pack of cards at him.  “Poker, sir?”

“I’m not playing poker with you,” John immediately said.  He’d already been hustled enough by the sergeant.

“Fine,” Ferry rolled his eyes, “gin rummy it is.”

There was a little bit of rearranging of positions.  Teyla was inveigled into a game and for a while it almost felt normal.

“So, sir, I hear you gave the Wraith mission to the Daedalus,” Ferry said taking a card and discarding another.

“They have the resources,” John said, trying not to be defensive.

“Are they making much progress?” asked Teyla, her eyes intent on her hand.  She was very competitive.

“They’ve determined there really isn’t another way down to the Wraith ship except to take a jumper,” John confirmed.  “They’re running shield simulations now to understand what changes need to be made so it can operate underwater.”

Ferry hummed.  “You’re checking their math, right, sir?”

John battled to keep the red from flooding his cheeks because he was checking their math.

“Gin,” Teyla laid her cards on the table.

“Damn it,” Ferry tossed his hand down.  “How do you do that?”

Teyla smiled at him.

A cough from the bed had them all turning sharply to the awakening man.

John pushed his chair back hurriedly.  He helped McKay into a sitting position and offered him water.  McKay drank until he pushed the cup away, his eyes bright on the other people in the room. 

“This your team?” asked McKay.

“Yes, along with your Future self,” John said.  He introduced Ferry and Teyla.

McKay frowned.  “I’m on this team?”

Teyla was the one who answered.  “You are a valued member and friend, Doctor McKay.”

“Huh,” McKay shifted against the pillows, “who knew I had that in me?”

“Nobody,” Ferry assured him dryly.  “Well, except the Major.  He was convinced you were a good guy.”

McKay shot John a bemused look.  “Really?”

“He’s my best friend,” John said with a shrug.

“His faith in you is right,” Ferry continued sincerely.  “You, well, you you, you’ve saved my life ten times over.”

McKay looked stunned.

“We should probably leave you to rest,” Teyla said gently.  “It was good to meet you, Doctor McKay.”

“Thank you,” McKay stuttered out.

Ferry gave the elderly scientist a nod, tossed off a salute at John and grumbled as Teyla pushed his wheelchair out of the room.

“They seem like good people,” McKay said.

“They are,” John rocked back on his heels.  “You shouldn’t play cards with them though.”

“I would have thought you would have just counted the cards,” McKay said pointedly. 

John grimaced.  “Yeah, I try not to do that.”

The wolf whuffed.

McKay stared at the soul animal.  “You know it was kind of creepy seeing the Ancients with all these weird animals.”

John petted the wolf gently.  “This guy isn’t creepy.  He saved me from a Wraith.”

“What’s his name?” asked McKay.

John frowned.  “Uh…”

“You do name them, right?” McKay raised his thin eyebrows.

“Kind of…no?” John said, crossing his arms over his chest.  “I mean, I don’t think so?”  He hadn’t heard of anyone naming their soulmate’s animal before.

“Well, that’s not creepy at all,” McKay blustered.

John looked at the wolf who looked back at him.

“Can I name him?” McKay asked eagerly.

John looked at McKay.  “You don’t even know him!”

McKay pouted but subsided.  “He’s supposed to lead you to your soulmate?” he asked tentatively.

“Yeah,” John said, “but it looks like we’ll have to wait on that.” He knew he sounded too wistful, too longing. “He’s not here in Atlantis and I’m not due to leave any time soon.”

Or he hoped he wasn’t due to leave.  John wondered what was happening on Earth with the debriefs.  He guessed if he was opening up the ‘gate travel again, he’d be able to dial Earth to exchange news, reports and orders.  The full ZPM they had gave them that ability.

“You have no idea who it is?” asked McKay bluntly.

John shook his head.  “I think he’s military.  The wolf is possessive and protective so there’s that.”  He made John feel safe.

“Huh,” McKay shook his head.  “It’s no wonder your time is so different to mine.  If the Ancients changed things so humans would see soul animals somehow, for them to lead people to their soulmates.” He lifted a hand from his blanket.  “How many people were led to someone they might never have met otherwise?”

John nodded his head slowly.  “I guess you’re right.”

McKay looked at him.  “Will you tell me about your Expedition?”

John pulled over his chair and sat down.  He talked about the Expedition’s arrival, about waking the Wraith.  He covered his reactivation to service, his choice to militarise the Expedition.  He talked about Everett, about Weir, about the power struggles.  He talked about the team, their friendship, their missions.  He talked about their desperate message to Earth, the battle and the Daedalus beaming him away from a suicide run.

It was dark outside when he stopped.  The infirmary bed was lit up in a pool of light, the far corners of the room in shadow.

“I’m glad,” McKay said weakly, “I’m glad my other self gets to have this,” he waved a hand vaguely around the room, “a team.  Friends.  I’m glad I got to see it.”

“You saved us, Rodney,” John said.  “None of us would be here if you hadn’t rotated the ZPMs, if you hadn’t travelled back in time.”

“If you’re grateful, you’d let me name your puppy,” wheedled McKay.

John rolled his eyes at him even as the wolf snorted derisively.  Although…

“OK, McKay, what would you name him?” asked John curious.

“Snow,” McKay suggested, “Ghost would be too on the nose, you know.”

Snow as in Jon Snow, John surmised. 

“You big geek,” John murmured.

“What do you think happened to my Sheppard?” asked McKay after a few minutes had passed, his voice heavy with more than simple fatigue.

“I think he protected you and Elizabeth,” said John simply.

“I wish…” McKay gave a weak cough but rallied, “I wish he’d woken me up.  I would have helped him.”

“He knew that and I think he would have if he’d had time,” John said.

McKay frowned.  “You can’t know that.”

“I’m him, Rodney,” John pointed out dryly.  “I know.”

“Tell me, I mean your Rodney he’s lucky,” McKay said.  His gaze drifted around the room again.  “I’m so tired.”

John swallowed the lump of emotion clawing at his throat.  “You can rest now, Rodney.”

McKay sighed.  “You don’t have to stay with me.”

John shook his head.  He wasn’t leaving any McKay to die alone.  “I’m right where I need to be.”

McKay hummed.  His eyes slid shut.

John waited, the wolf’s head heavy on his knee.  He tangled his fingers in its fur as the monitor beeped, beeped…and flatlined.

And the wolf howled.

o-O-o

The gyrfalcon was staring across the room at the panel.  ‘Pilot’ as Dillon had named him much to the gyrfalcon’s glee, Marshall’s chagrin, and McKay’s annoyance that he hadn’t thought to name the soul bird himself, looked like it was preparing to do battle.

Marshall had woken with Pilot nested into the bedding beside him, close enough to touch almost.  He had a feeling his soulmate was upset.  He didn’t know how or why he knew, he just knew.  He needed to talk to O’Neill about getting to Atlantis as soon as he could.

Pilot had stayed close all day, invisible still to everyone else.  Marshall refrained from stroking his hand over the tuft of feathers, but it was getting more and more difficult to pretend the soul animal wasn’t close by.

He wasn’t surprised to see Pilot perched in Dillon’s place when they’d returned from lunch.  Dillon had been excused from the afternoon.  He’d weathered the examination into his decisions all morning, but he’d clearly been exhausted by the relentless questioning.  Beckett had put his foot down and sent Dillon back to Bethesda after the panel had confirmed that Dillon’s decisions hadn’t warranted the complaints levied against him.

Not that there weren’t lessons to learn, things which could have been improved upon, but nothing that was unlawful or wrong.

Mostly, the situation with the nanovirus had been the one singled out.  Dillon had received criticism for not trusting Weir and Ferry who’d been in the control room at the time of the incident.  He’d been questioned heavily on the insistence of deploying a martial presence in the corridors to enforce the quarantine, and for ordering Sheppard to find and contain Doctor Peterson, regardless of the quarantine rules.  Dillon had also received a slap on the hand for the loss of the naquada generator which they’d overloaded for the nuclear reaction and subsequent EMP to kill the nanovirus, even if it had been acknowledged that they’d had few options.

Marshall had managed to get it on record that both Doctors Wagner and Johnson had been following Weir’s instructions to go off the planned route and explore a lab which hadn’t been on the list.  Her claim that she’d thought the scientists would ask permission themselves had not gone down well.

Overall, Marshall was pleased with the morning’s session.  However, he knew from his discussion with McKay that it wasn’t Dillon who was in Weir’s crosshairs. 

“Look, she has two agendas,” McKay held up a finger, “control of the Expedition.  She thinks if she discredits Everett and Sheppard enough about taking over at all then she can argue for civilian leadership reinstatement.”

“The city was just attacked by a hostile force,” Marshall pointed out, bemused.  It was highly unlikely that even the IOA would be stupid enough to agree to civilian leadership.

“Right, and she has little to stand on since the Charter makes it clear that a hostile enemy meant militarisation,” McKay shook his hand, “which brings us to two.” Two fingers.  “She knows, everyone knows Everett isn’t coming back to Atlantis, he’s not a threat.  She also knows that if she tries to discredit him too fiercely, it will look like she’s beating down on a man who doesn’t have long to live.”

“She’s going after Sheppard,” Marshall surmised.

“In her eyes he betrayed her,” McKay slurped down the rest of his coffee.  “He accepted the reactivation and militarised the Expedition.  If she can take away his military service under the guise of a concern about his decisions in service…he becomes a civilian again and he’s back under her control.  His staying on Atlantis becomes her decision.”

Marshall straightened his papers, casting a look towards McKay.  John’s best friend gave a simple nod back.  They were ready.

Weir was the last to retake her seat.  She wore an elegant green dress teamed with a cream jacket.  Her jewellery and make-up were discreet. 

Woolsey coughed lightly to get everyone’s attention.  “As per the agenda, we’ll be discussion the actions of Major Sheppard this afternoon.”

Marshall kept his shoulders straight as Woolsey looked over to him. 

“Are you prepared to represent the Major in his absence, Colonel Sumner?”

“I am,” Marshall confirmed, “although I would like it on record that holding a review on a man’s performance while he’s protecting our interests in the field is…disrespectful to him, his uniform and his years of service.”

“Your objection is noted,” Woolsey said.  “We have discussed as a panel whether to go forward without Major Sheppard present a number of times.  We are agreed that this will act as a preliminary review and, if the more serious complaints are upheld, we will look to recall Major Sheppard to Earth for him to answer to them in person.”

He nodded at the panel in acknowledgement, noting that Weir appeared surprised by the ruling.

“Doctor Weir,” Woolsey turned to her, “as these complaints were put forward by you, please read your statement.”

“Thank you, Mister Woolsey,” Weir said. 

She calmly reviewed the paper in front of her before lifting her gaze to the panel.  

“Firstly, I want to make it clear that I have nothing but respect for our men and women in uniform,” she began, folding her arms onto the table, “they are a vital part of the Stargate programme and our Expedition.  John Sheppard did not begin his time with either as a member of the U.S. Air Force.  He was, and is, a brilliant mathematician and aeronautical engineer.  I look forward to his resuming his career with us in that capacity.”

Marshall schooled himself not to react to the indignant wing-mantling Pilot indulged in.

“The end of John’s military service was traumatic,” Weir continued, “he lost a…a friend…”

And the emphasis was definitely meant to suggest that Captain Holland had been more to John than a friend, Marshall thought grumpily.

“…and his career as a pilot,” she continued, “because he went against orders and went back to rescue his friend from behind enemy lines.  I think we all know that had it not been for his injury, John Sheppard would have faced charges of disobedience and insubordination, loss of military property and reckless endangerment.”  She let that sink in.  “Instead, rather than the dishonourable discharge he should have faced, he was offered an honourable discharge on medical grounds, complete with pension and benefits.”

Her misunderstanding of the military was showing, Marshall mused.  He personally figured that John wouldn’t have copped more than a slap on the wrists if charges had been brought.  The order to ignore the call for help from the downed men had been lawful, but it had been against usual protocol.  Maybe John would have gotten a black mark on his record, maybe he’d have been given a shit posting meant to cool his heels and remind him of his place in the COC, but getting rid of a pilot of John’s calibre?  It was never going to happen.

“John’s time as a civilian scientist is, by comparison, lacking any hint of his previous recklessness,” Weir said.  “His performance reports are exemplary and his work on the Daedalus and Prometheus, as well as the F302 fighter jets speaks for itself.  His superiors have nothing but good things to say about him.”

O’Neill was outright glowering at Weir.

Weir took a sip of water.  “In hindsight, with the information yesterday that there was an agreement ahead of our departure, I admit I am not surprised that John agreed to Colonel Everett’s request to be reactivated if asked; he is after all a man used to duty.  However, I still believe that deep down he did not want to be recalled and that his recall was meant to be a last resort.”

Marshall was hard-pressed to keep his face stoic.

“I appreciate that the panel have already reviewed the many observations I made during the months of the Expedition under military leadership.  I believe it is best to focus on two specific incidents which best demonstrate John Sheppard’s recklessness and his unsuitability for continuing military service.”

Weir’s gaze left the panel and scanned the room.  She shifted in her chair as many people wouldn’t meet her eyes.

“During our third month, Teyla Emmagan introduced us to the Genii.  They presented themselves as a farming community,” Weir said.  “Major Sheppard’s first contact team were assigned the mission to negotiate with them for trade with Atlantis.” She paused and sipped her water.  “During the course of the mission, the Genii revealed themselves to be industrially advanced.  They asked to negotiate with us as equals and for us to accompany them on a mission to blow up a Hive ship.  John Sheppard agreed to their demands.”

Weir really did have a fondness for historical revisionism, Marshall mused.  McKay squirmed in his seat, a vibrating ball of energy eager to argue, but he kept silent despite his rapidly reddening face.

“John conspired to double-cross our new allies, leading to the death of one of their senior people,” Weir continued.  “Once our team was safely home, we had to follow his recommendation not to engage with them further.  As an experienced diplomat and negotiator, I strongly felt this was a mistake.”

Someone coughed loudly in her meaningful pause for silence.  Marshall did not laugh.

“The second time we encountered the Genii, they entered Atlantis through deception during a storm when we only had a skeleton team in place,” Weir continued.  “I believe this incursion only happened because of our previous deception with them.”  She tucked her hair behind her ear.  “Despite the fact that I and Doctor McKay were held hostage, Major Sheppard engaged the Genii forces repeatedly.  He killed over thirty people, closed the iris on the Genii, and shot a man who held a gun to my head trying to stop Major Sheppard’s rampage.  His actions that day were reckless and endangered the lives of myself, Doctor McKay, Doctor Beckett, Sergeant Ferry and Teyla.”

She made another dramatic pause.

“It is the missions with the Genii which I believe make my case that John Sheppard’s recall to active service should be terminated and for his previous status as a civilian to be returned to him,” Weir concluded.

Woolsey nodded sharply.  “Colonel Sumner, you have a statement on behalf of Major Sheppard, and a response to Doctor Weir’s statement?”

“I do,” Marshall said.  He wished he could stand but he settled for leaning forward, his eyes intent on the panel.  “John Sheppard is an extraordinary officer who has served his country and his planet with distinction and honour.  He has been trained not only as a pilot, but for special operations.  He is experienced in risk assessment, strategy and combat.  I would be proud to have an officer like John Sheppard in my command.”

He paused, scanning the panel for reaction.

Chekov was nodding, Shen Xiaoyi and Chapman were both frowning.  Woolsey was listening.  O’Neill was watching Weir. 

“Major Sheppard’s previous medical retirement was unfortunate,” Marshall noted dispassionately, “but let’s not kid ourselves; if he hadn’t been injured, he would have still been serving in the U.S. Air Force.  We don’t let valuable assets go and the Major, even before the news of his ATA gene was known, was a highly valuable asset.  Doctor Weir calls his actions reckless and insubordinate, but in training for special operations, Sheppard was specifically chosen for his ability to make rapid field decisions and to enter dangerous situations with only his wits as his armament.”

Marshall wet his lips.

“On the matter of the Genii, I only have one thing to say; the reports at the time tell a very different story to the one outlined by Doctor Weir.  I am certain the review will get to the truth of what occurred.”

He gestured across the table.

“It was John Sheppard’s choice to enjoy the freedom of research that a civilian contract offered him once his injury was healed, and it was his choice to agree to reactivation of his military rank and commission if the situation warranted it in Pegasus, and let’s make no mistake: the situation warranted it.”  His gaze swept across the panel.  “With the Expedition now back in touch with Earth and additional resources to be deployed to the city, I believe we should offer Major Sheppard the choice of continuing his service or a second retirement and resumption of his civilian contract with our grateful thanks.  He should not be forced one way or another by anyone.”

Woolsey replied to the end of the statement with a nod of acknowledgement.  “Thank you, Colonel, we’ll now…”

“Can I speak now?” McKay interrupted.

Woolsey blinked but nodded.  “Of course, Doctor McKay.”

“Your statement is a whole load of bullshit, Elizabeth!” McKay said bluntly, turning to her and stabbing a finger in her direction.

“Doctor McKay,” Woolsey protested, “please monitor your language.”

McKay rolled his eyes.

“But please continue,” Shen said, shifting position to look at him more fully.  “I know I am very interested to know why you are so impassioned in your belief that Doctor Weir’s statement was deceptive.”

McKay flushed at the description, but he nodded sharply.  “The Genii did not intend to ever be our allies.  They didn’t ‘reveal themselves,’” he made air quotation marks, “I followed an energy reading, stumbled across their secret bunker in the barn and got taken hostage.”  He glared at Weir.  “On what planet is that them choosing to reveal themselves to us?”

“Major Sheppard was in command of that mission, wasn’t he?” asked Chapman from the panel.

Weir shot him a grateful look.  The British rep had been playing to Weir’s tune all day.

“We thought they were farmers and it was just a weird energy reading!  John had Sergeant Ferry accompany me!” McKay said.  “They knocked Marvin out!  They held us hostage and demanded our guns.”

“Who rescued your ass, McKay?” asked O’Neill bluntly.

Weir frowned.

“John,” McKay said, “he found us and negotiated for them to release us to him.  He had to show them our C4.”

“He was prepared to trade explosives?” demanded Chapman.

“What? NO!” McKay glowered at him.  “Did you even read my report on the mission?  He demonstrated we had more power than they did.  Then they suddenly wanted to be our friends.”

Weir nodded.  “Exactly, they wanted to be allies.”

“They were lying!” McKay shook his head furiously, gesticulating towards her.  “You didn’t get it then, and you don’t get it now!  They were lying!  They would have killed Marvin if John hadn’t found us!”

“That is in the report,” Woolsey acknowledged.

“John didn’t even want to do the mission they proposed!” McKay continued, stabbing his finger towards Weir again.  “You were the one who recommended we do it!”

O’Neill’s gaze narrowed on Weir.  “Is that true?”

Weir shifted in her chair under O’Neill’s unrelenting regard.  “I believed their proposal was in good faith and it would benefit us to have an ally.”

“But you had not met them yourself, Doctor Weir, is that not correct?” asked Shen. 

Weir nodded reluctantly.  “Our allies in Pegasus were sparse and generally agrarian communities.  Given the Genii were industrialised and experimenting with nuclear fusion, I believed we had finally met an ally who was, if not an equal, able to fully engage with us.”

Woolsey frowned at his tablet.  “Your recommendation for the mission is missing from the official notes.”

“Colonel Everett saw the value in gaining an ally; he signed off on the mission,” Weir shrugged.

“But I remember seeing your recommendation in the notes I read,” Beckett blurted out, bewilderment on his face.  “Why wouldn’t that still be in the notes?”

“Good question, Doctor Beckett,” O’Neill glared at Weir.

“You can’t think I had anything to do with why my recommendation is not included!” Weir protested.  “I can assure you, I did not edit them.”

O’Neill looked at her coldly.  “McKay, I want a full review of the Atlantis records.  I want to understand the revisions to all official documentation and who made them.”

“I’ll just get right on that,” McKay muttered, pushing a hand through his thinning hair.

“Obviously, after the session will be soon enough,” Woolsey jumped in.  “I’d like to return to the matter at hand.  Namely, the mission with the Genii.”

“John was suspicious of their motives,” McKay said, “he agreed with Colonel Everett to set up a countermeasure in case the Genii tried to double-cross us – which they did.”

Chekov huffed.  “Then it seems to me that Major Sheppard acted at all times in line with his orders and to keep his team safe.  I do not see any reckless endangerment in his actions.”

Marshall breathed out at the sight of the other panel members nodding at the Russian General’s summary.

Chapman tapped the folder in front of him.  “Perhaps the argument could be made for the first mission, but during the incursion?  Doctor McKay sustained an injury and Doctor Weir was traumatised due to Sheppard’s actions, not to mention the significant loss of life he perpetrated.”

“Doctor Chapman,” Marshall snapped out, “are you aware of the standing orders of the Department of Homeworld Security in the matter of any base being invaded by a hostile force?”

Chapman blinked at him, taken aback.  “I, uh…”

“Let me advise you,” Marshall said, “that the order reads as follows: “In the matter of an incursion, use of deadly force is permitted to retake the base.  Do not under any circumstances, up to and including where the lives of civilian and military personnel may be at risk, negotiate with the enemy; the Department of Homeworld Security and all branches of command assigned to the Stargate programme do not negotiate with terrorists.”” 

“That cannot be right,” Chapman blustered.

“Actually, it’s word perfect,” O’Neill stated dryly.  He held the British scientist’s gaze.  “And let me be clear about this: Sheppard isn’t getting reviewed in this forum for defending the city from the Genii with deadly force.  His actions were in keeping with our standing orders and, frankly, I’m going to give him a medal for it.”

Chapman blanched.

Woolsey cleared his throat.  “While I understand your position, General, the fact is that the Major’s actions had a profound impact on his colleagues and should be considered when determining his future role on the Expedition.”

Marshall glanced across at Weir who allowed a flicker of smugness across her expression.   

McKay’s hand shot up.  “I’d like to answer that!”

The panel all turned to look at him as though they’d forgotten McKay’s presence.

McKay gestured.  “The focus shouldn’t be on what John did when the Genii invaded.  He did his job!  Was I injured?  Yes!  Was it because of John?  No!  It was because the Genii commander, Kolya, was a piece of shit.”

“He hurt you trying to bring John to heel!” Weir argued.

McKay glared at her.  “Did you expect John just to give in and surrender the city?  If he’d done that, we’d be dead and we wouldn’t have Atlantis!”

“I’d also draw the panel’s attention as to why Kolya was in the city in the first place,” Marshall added.  “The Genii would never have been there if you, Doctor Weir, hadn’t let them through the ‘gate.”

“I thought it was a team under fire when I lowered the shield,” Weir said forcefully.  “Protocol allows for the IDC to be ignored in such cases.”

“General?” prompted Woolsey.

O’Neill grimaced.  “The protocol does allow the IDC to be ignored if a team is under fire; we’ve lowered the shield five times since we implemented the IDC in such cases.  However, the gate room was heavily armed in all cases.”

“We had a skeleton team,” Weir said, “that wasn’t possible and…”

For the first time, she faltered, her voice breaking a touch.

“The two Marines who were present were shot down immediately,” Marshall supplied, keeping his tone even.

Weir took a breath.  “Yes.”

Marshall would have had some sympathy for her if she hadn’t used what had happened to try and control his soulmate’s future.  He kept his gaze tight on her.  “How did they get our gate address?”

Weir stilled.  “Excuse me?”

“How did they get the gate address?” asked Marshall again.  “We don’t dial Atlantis; we dial to the Alpha site.  So, how did they know our gate address to enact their deception on you?”

Weir folded her arms over her chest.  “Why don’t you tell me?  You seem to already have the answer.”

“Teyla Emmagan reported that an Athosian named Jamui went missing a week before the incursion after her visit to the Athosian settlement,” Marshall stated.  “He’d been part of the ‘gate teams, part of the team which had backed up Sheppard’s team on the Genii Wraith mission.” 

He kept his gaze pinned to Weir. 

“Were you aware that a month ago, Ms Emmagan requested that Doctor Biro attend the settlement to perform an autopsy examination because Jamui’s body had been found at a trading market?  Doctor Biro reported he had died from a gunshot wound made to the back of his head.  She identified the bullets being of Genii origin.”

“You believe Jamui gave the Genii our address,” Weir stated with a tilt of her head.  “Why would he betray us?”

“Good question,” Marshall said.  “Before he left the settlement, his wife said that he had told her he’d been given a very important and very secret mission to open talks with the Genii; that it was given to him by someone on Atlantis – not military, not his gate team, but someone important.”

Weir couldn’t look away from him.  She lifted one perfectly groomed eyebrow.  “Are you implying I had something to do with it?”

“Did you?” Marshall shot back.

Weir made a show of bristling in indignation.  “You don’t have any right to ask me that!”

“But we do,” Woolsey said sharply, garnering both their attention. 

Marshall waited as Weir clearly debated what to say.

“I did not give Jamui a mission,” Weir denied.

“Colonel?” Woolsey prompted.  “Do you have any evidence Doctor Weir was involved?”

Beckett raised his hand, casting a quick look in Weir’s direction. “Uh, I do know this.  Unfortunately, the Expedition had just received notice of the approaching Wraith Hive ships and couldn’t spare the resources.  Colonel Everett flagged for the matter to be investigated after the battle.”

“That’s not exactly true,” McKay slid in brusquely.  “That’s what Everett told any civilian.”  He glanced over at Weir.  “Before the Wraith attacked, John discovered that three civilian women were on our cameras speaking or meeting with Jamui the day he left for the settlement; Doctor Simpson, Doctor Weir and Doctor Kusanagi.  There was no audio so he couldn’t validate what they had met about.”

“I wished Jamui well with his marriage,” Weir said firmly.  “That’s all.”

“I assume Doctor Simpson and Doctor Kusanagi have not been questioned?” Woolsey asked, directing his question to McKay.

McKay shook his head.  “They don’t need to be.” He straightened his shoulders and looked directly at Woolsey.  “I have proof it was Elizabeth, uh, Doctor Weir.”

Weir’s eyes went wide with shock.  “Rodney!” She turned to the panel.  “He’s lying!  There is no proof because it didn’t happen!”

McKay hit a button on the laptop.  There was a large monitor on the right wall just behind Weir.  It flickered into life.

It was an office in Atlantis.  A swarthy man pockmarked and scarred sat on the desk.  Weir stood a few feet away from him, her back to the glass wall behind her. 

Weir’s hand was over her mouth.  She shook her head.  “This isn’t possible!”  She stared at Rodney.  “Kolya had you disable the cameras.  How…”

“I disabled them,” McKay replied in a clipped tone, “John had Atlantis turn them back on so he could hunt down the Genii.  You should know by now that Atlantis will do whatever John wants!”

Marshall sneaked a peek at the panel.  Shen looked like all her Christmases had come at once; both Woolsey and Chapman were horrified; the Generals wore the same grim expression.

“You didn’t need to do this,” Weir said on screen.

“Didn’t need to do what, Doctor Weir?” The Genii commander drawled.  “Was this not what you wanted when you sent us your gate address?”

“I wanted to open a dialogue with you,” Weir said.  “I wanted to pursue an alliance.  Instead, you’ve used the good faith gesture I gave you to…you killed those men.”

“And I fully intend to kill your Major Sheppard since he has killed my men,” Kolya says on screen.  “Tell me about him.”

Marshall wanted to drive his fist through Kolya’s face.  He took a deep breath and reminded himself John had already put a bullet in Kolya’s brain.

Weir turned desperately to the panel.  “That isn’t…I didn’t mean…”

“Didn’t mean what, Elizabeth?” drawled O’Neill sarcastically.  “You didn’t mean to commit treason?  Because that’s what you did by giving our gate address to someone we’d designated an enemy.”  His hard stare had her lowering her gaze.

“I believed that the Genii deserved a second chance,” Weir protested.  “Neither Colonel Everett or John would listen to me so I asked Jamui to pass on a message, that’s all.  My message said we could move past our differences and if they contacted us, we could discuss an alliance.”

“And gave them our gate address,” Marshall stated bluntly.  “The death of that Athosian is on you!  The deaths of those Marines are on you!  Your trauma?  On you.  You owe Sheppard an apology for ever giving him a hard time about what he did to clean up your mess!”

“That’s not the only apology she owes,” McKay said tersely.  He looked at her, anger competing with sad disappointment visibly on his face.  “You know when Marshall asked me if I’d checked the footage of your conversation with Kolya, if there was any incriminating…I said no and that it was unlikely.  That you were just doing your thing…trying to talk him down.” He shook his head and closed the laptop.

Weir was stunned, her composure broken.

Woolsey coughed.  “In the circumstances, I believe the panel will concur that Major Sheppard has our thanks for his service and that he will be given the opportunity to determine his path forward with the Expedition and the Stargate programme.”

His panel members nodded.

“General O’Neill, I assume Homeworld will want to assert jurisdiction over the actions of Doctor Weir uncovered today?”

O’Neill gave another sharp nod.  Marshall figured Jack wanted to say something caustic but was swallowing it down because of the politics.

“Then we will adjourn,” Woolsey said.  “Normal debriefs will resume tomorrow.”

Marshall gave a soft sigh of relief.  He checked on Pilot who happily skipped over the table to nuzzle into his hand.  He focused on his soul animal, ignoring Major Davis taking Weir into custody on the other side of the room and leading her out, Beckett’s fussing over McKay with Carter and Jackson joining them at the table.

The gyrfalcon spread its wings and shook out its feathers before taking flight just enough to land on Marshall’s shoulder.  Marshall was suddenly aware of the silence that had fallen over the remaining people in the room.

O’Neill was somehow in front of Marshall, one scarred eyebrow lifted.  He rocked back on his heels, hands pushed into the pockets of his pants.  He looked far too amused.  “Does that belong to who I think it belongs?”

Carter giggled – giggled.  Jackson hushed her.

Marshall sighed and stood up to face O’Neill like a Marine.  He squared his shoulders.  “General, I’m going to need a transfer to Atlantis.”

O’Neill’s eyes twinkled brightly.  “Oh, I’m sure you do, Marshall, I’m sure you do.”

o-O-o

One of John’s favourite places in the entire universe was the puddlejumper bay in Atlantis.  The jumpers were all lined up neatly, but even dormant he felt the whispers of them nudge his mind like eager puppies, each wanting to go out and play.

He sent them all a wave of love and ignored Snow’s indulgent grin; somehow Past McKay’s name for the wolf had stuck. 

It felt good to smile.  They’d held a ceremony the day before to honour the sacrifice of the Past McKay and Weir, casting both their ashes into the ocean.  It had been a sombre moment.

He easily found the jumper he was looking for – Bryce, Markham, Radek and Caldwell were all gathered outside of it in a huddle. 

Caldwell straightened, his flight suit pulling taut around his body.  He nodded a greeting to John.  “Major.”

“Colonel,” John returned the nod.  “At ease, Markham.”

The Sergeant shifted position.  “Sir.”

John stood beside the active ‘jumper ignoring its tugs and soothing it with a brief thought.  “What’s up?”

“Doctor Bryce has finished making the modifications to the jumper,” Radek said.  “I have reviewed her work, the ‘jumper is ready for a test dive.”

“Right,” John said when Radek fell silent.  “And the problem is?”

“The modifications are…tricky,” Bryce explained crisply.  “Our simulations show that in four out of ten occasions the pilot needed to compensate depth and speed because the shield was or was not responding in a timely way to the outside pressures of the ocean.”

“We need an experienced pilot, sir,” Markham said bluntly, “one capable of advanced mathematics on the fly.”

Caldwell almost smirked at him.  “In other words, we need you, Sheppard.”

“There is also an issue with power consumption,” Radek pushed his glasses up his nose, fidgeting with the edge of the tablet he held.  “We may need to make configuration changes on the fly to ensure the shield does not use too much power.”

“In other words, we need Radek in the back,” Bryce asserted.  She shrugged.  “I’m good, but Radek is better.”

John looked at Radek.  Snow looked at Radek expectantly.

The scientist heaved a heavy sigh and nodded.  “Rodney will never let me forget it if you die because I was too afraid to do this with you.”

“You mean McKay will eviscerate you if you let Sheppard go down there without you,” Bryce said cheerfully.  She poked a pencil behind her ear and headed back into the ‘jumper.

Radek sighed again.  “She is not wrong.”  He followed after her.

Markham hid his laugh with a cough.

“Dismissed, Sergeant,” John said.

Caldwell waited until Markham was gone before he spoke.  “When do you think you’ll be able to schedule a test dive?”

John rocked back on his heels.  “Any movement from the Wraith ship?”

“The Wraith is still sleeping like a baby according to our scans,” Caldwell confirmed.

John considered the schedule.  The Ganara mission was scheduled for the next day.  He really didn’t want to be in the ocean just in case something went wrong with the trade. 

“Day after tomorrow,” John informed Caldwell.  “I’ll get it put on the schedule.”

“I have a small team assembled for the mission to the Wraith ship itself,” Caldwell said, “would it make sense for them to join you?”

John shook his head.  “Not this time.  Let’s leave that for after a second test run.”

Caldwell nodded.  “Sounds sensible to me.”

John tilted his head towards the door.  “Shall we head to Ops?  We’re due to make our dial-in to Earth soon.”

“Lead the way, Major.”

They fell into step as they headed out of the bay, Snow between them because his soulmate was possessive and protective, even if the wolf liked Caldwell.  John could still feel the ‘jumpers tugging at him until the moment they cleared the door.

Chuck was back at the controls when John entered and he was pleased to see the technician in place.      

“We’re all set up, Major,” Chuck informed him briskly.

“Great,” John acknowledged Lorne joining them with a brief nod.  “Dial her up.” 

Snow pressed into John’s side but made no other movement.  It seemed to know instinctively that John wasn’t going to go through to Earth, even if the wolf could lead him through the wormhole and directly to his soulmate; he had a duty to perform on Atlantis.  It underscored John’s belief that his soulmate was a military man himself used to service.  But he had included a personal request for leave in his update to the SGC, detailing Snow’s arrival.  He wanted to know who his soulmate was, wanted to meet them; his heart ached with his want, with his need, and only the wolf was able to provide some comfort.

“Entering the gate address for Earth,” Chuck informed them crisply.

The chevrons lit up and the wormhole splashed outwards.

“Sending IDC,” Chuck said out loud.  “All clear, sir.  We’re sending video feed now.”

“Stargate Command, this is Atlantis, do you hear us?” John asked.

“We hear you, Atlantis,” Colonel Dave Dixon flickered into view on a nearby monitor, “and we see you.  Colonel Caldwell, Major Sheppard, Major Lorne.  Good to see you.”  His gaze flickered to John’s side.  “Is that a wolf?”

“Soul animal,” John explained succinctly.  “Colonel, we’ve confirmed there are no active Wraith on the planet and we have resumed gate missions.  A proposed dial in schedule for Earth is included in our update.  We need to complete the transfer of our reports quickly to conserve the ZPM.  We’re transmitting our package now.”

Chuck pressed a button on his laptop.

“Understood, Atlantis,” Dixon grinned at him.   “We’ve got an update for you too.”  He gestured at Walter Harriman sat at the technician desk in the SGC control room.  “The review and debriefs finished yesterday.  Preparations are being made and the Prometheus is due to depart in seven days.”

John calculated timings in his head.  That meant that Prometheus would get to Atlantis in around four weeks.

“Daedalus is ordered to remain with Atlantis until the Prometheus gets there,” Dixon continued, directing his gaze to Caldwell.

“Understood,” Caldwell said.

Dixon’s expression sobered.  “Be advised, General Hammond had a heart attack.  General O’Neill has been appointed the Head of Homeworld Security.  The COC changes are expected to be formally announced over the next few days.”

John couldn’t stop himself from frowning at the imminent chain of command changes.  Damn it.  He liked O’Neill.  More importantly, he trusted him. 

“How’s General Hammond?” asked Caldwell, concern coating his words.

“In recovery and doing well,” Dixon said.

John was relieved to hear that. 

“Transfer complete, sir,” Chuck murmured in a low tone.

“Colonel, we’re confirming receipt of the package,” John said. 

Dixon glanced at Harriman.

“Transfer complete, Colonel,” Harriman confirmed.

“We’ll call in seven days unless our orders state differently,” John said.

Dixon nodded.  “Stay safe out there in Pegasus, Major, Colonel.  SGC out.”

The monitor feed cut.  John nodded at Chuck, but Atlantis was already anticipating John’s order and the wormhole disappeared before Chuck could press the right button on the control panel.

John offered an apologetic smile.  “Sort the package and inform Colonel Caldwell and myself if there’s anything urgent.”

Chuck nodded.  “Yes, sir.”

John glanced at Caldwell.  “I’ll schedule a briefing for the dive test with Radek once I’ve reviewed the modifications to the jumper.”

“I look forward to it,” Caldwell tapped his earpiece.  “Daedalus, I’m ready to return.”

The transport beam took him a moment later.

John motioned at Lorne and they began the walk to John’s office.  “What’s next on the schedule, Major?”

“We have a meeting on inventory with Sergeant Merryweather in an hour,” Lorne told him cheerfully.  “You’re free until then, sir.”

John grimaced.  Inventory.  “You know I’m sure inventory is something I could delegate to my XO.” 

Lorne grinned at him.  “Merryweather specifically asked to speak to you, sir.”

Damn it.

“How goes it with Operation Matchmaking?” John asked.  He’d been half-amused to realise that Teyla had inveigled Lorne into her plan to seduce Kanaan.

“Good,” Lorne waggled his eyebrows.  “Kanaan finally asked Teyla to accompany him to dinner after we came back from the Alpha site yesterday.”

“Really?” asked John.  And that explained why he hadn’t seen Teyla that morning.  “Wow.  How did you manage that?”

“Pointed out that you had a soulmate so you were definitely never going to be with Teyla,” Lorne said.

John almost tripped, his head spun around so fast to stare at Lorne.  “What?!”

“Well, I realised after speaking to Kanaan that he bought into the mythos you’re an Ancient come to save the Athosians, and so in his eyes who better for Teyla to be with,” Lorne explained, his amusement written all over his face.  “Once I explained about the soul animals, he realised he didn’t need to be so self-sacrificing anymore. Also I told him if I had a preference I’d be more likely to invite Kanaan to dinner than Teyla as beautiful she is and…” he gestured his hands in a vague ‘voila!’ movement.

“Huh,” John said.  He was happy for Teyla and Kanaan.  “Good job, Major.”

“I expect they’ll name their first child after me,” Lorne joked.

“I called dibs on that months ago,” John argued.  Rodney kept insisting they’d name their kid after Rodney.

John opened his office door and stopped at the sight of Ferry sat in a visitor’s chair. 

Lorne quickly took a step back.  “I have something to do…elsewhere.” He pointed down the corridor.

“Thanks, Lorne,” John said dryly.  He took a step inside and closed the office door.  “Marvin.”

“Sir,” Ferry greeted him briskly.

“You finally decided to risk Alicia’s wrath and make a break from the infirmary?” John ignored the chair behind his desk, choosing instead to lean against the front. 

“I was bored,” Ferry stated. “I can help you with the paperwork.”

“How shocking since you’ve never helped me with paperwork ever,” John quipped, folding his arms over his chest.  “What’s really going on?”

“Doc wants me to go back to Earth for PT and recovery,” Ferry complained.

John frowned.    

Snow huffed beside John.

“We might have argued about it, sir,” Ferry said.  “I walked out.”

John just looked at him.  The wolf gave Ferry a disappointed look and headed for the bed of blankets John had constructed in the corner of his office.

Ferry grimaced.  “I know.  I was wrong to lose my temper and walk out.”  He sighed.  “Goddamnit!  I hate apologising.”

“Nobody likes apologising,” John pointed out wryly.

“I want to stay here, Major,” Ferry said, his eyes filled with fierce determination.

John rubbed a hand over his chin, hiding the wince as he felt bristles against his fingertips.  “Look, Marvin, I would love to have you stay, but if the Doc says you’d be better recovering on Earth and recommends you go…I can’t ignore that.”

Ferry pouted.  It looked ridiculous given the infirmary scrubs he wore. 

“Why don’t you head back to the infirmary, make your apology and discuss it with the Doc properly?” John phrased it like a question, but he knew Ferry would accept it for the order it was.

“I would, but, uh…” Ferry gestured at his abdomen.  “I think I might have pulled some stitches, sir.”

In other words, he was going to need help getting there.

John waited a beat before tapping his earpiece.  “Sheppard to Doctor Biro.”

“Biro here,” Alicia chirped in his ear, “I assume you have my missing patient.”

“I do,” John confirmed, “he needs a ride back from my office to the infirmary.”

“I’ll send an orderly,” Alicia said dryly.  “He tell you…”

“He did,” John said.  “He’s going to talk to you about whether he needs to go back to Earth calmly.”

Alicia hummed.  “I’ll have him out of your hair in five.  Biro out.”

Ferry sighed.  “How mad is she?”

“Mad,” John confirmed.  “Hey, did you hear about Teyla?”

Ferry shook his head, his eyes bright with curiosity.  John filled him in on the latest gossip.  They were contemplating the value of giving Kanaan a shovel talk and how mad Teyla would be with them if they did when the nurse turned up with a wheelchair for Ferry’s transport back to the infirmary.

John settled behind his desk and booted up his laptop.  He wasn’t surprised that the delay meant that the new orders, reports and emails from Earth had already been sent to him.   Chuck was scarily efficient.

He brought up the orders first.  They were not a surprise; defending Earth and Atlantis explicitly against the Wraith was what John had expected to see included.  The rest of their mission remained the same; finding technology and allies in the defence of Earth against any hostile enemy; the exploration of space, and scientific advancement of the human race. 

John breathed out slowly and turned to the first of the emails for his attention.  He hovered the cursor over Rodney’s before swearing under his breath and choosing O’Neill’s.   

“Sheppard,

I’m pleased to inform you that the review of your performance out in Pegasus was concluded satisfactorily.

The IOA panel, the Joint Chiefs, Hammond, myself and everyone in the programme thank you for your exemplary service.  You are hereby promoted to the rank of Lieutenant Colonel, effective immediately.

The one thing we’re all agreed upon is that you get a choice.  You can remain with the Air Force and pursue a career in the service.  Or you can retire at your new rank with the thanks of a grateful Commander-in-Chief and resume your civilian contract with the SGC.  Either way it’s also your choice over whether you stay in Atlantis or not.

You’ll have new leadership in Atlantis if you stay.

Doctor Weir is being replaced by Richard Woolsey, another IOA rep.  He’s a good man even if he is a bit by the book.

Colonel Everett has accepted a medical retirement.  We’ll look after him from here. 

Colonel Marshall Sumner is the new interim CO of the Atlantis Expedition.  He’s a career Marine and a good man.  Watch the video he sent you.  It’s relevant to your decision.

I’ll be at your next dial in and I’ll expect your answer then.

Don’t get eaten,

O’Neill”

John swallowed against the rush of emotion.  He rubbed his hands over his face and read the email again.  Snow bumped his knee and John stroked over its head, rubbed behind its ears and dropped a kiss on its snout. 

He’d feared reprimand and recrimination from Weir’s complaints since she’d been so sure of herself.  The fact that he’d been completely cleared…the rush of relief was almost too much.  It knocked right through him and made him glad he was already sat in his chair.

That he was being allowed to choose his next step?

That was huge.

Huge.

The wolf nudged him and John remembered to take a breath.

He dived back to the laptop and went for Rodney’s email.

“John,

Your soul animal – Dillon named him Pilot FYI – is just as annoying as you and, yes, I met your soulmate before you did.  He was your advocate at the review.  You’ll like him even if he is a Marine. 

Elizabeth was responsible for the Genii getting the address from Jamui.  She tried to say she wasn’t but I found video evidence of her conversation with Kolya right before he stabbed me in the arm.  They’re still debating what to do with her, but she’s not coming back to Atlantis.

Do you know we could still run out of coffee even with the Daedalus and the Prometheus doing supply runs?  I’ve calculated…”

The rest of the email devolved into equations which John figured was the calculation of how much coffee Rodney could fit into either spaceship if he spaced all the personnel needed to actually fly them.

His heartbeat was crazy fast. 

Rodney had met his soulmate.

John shook his head.  He focused on the paragraph about Elizabeth.  Anger stirred briefly and stormed through him, but mostly he felt tired in its wake.

He’d killed so many Genii during the incursion.  Thirty-two Genii on the city, but he’d closed the gate on Kolya’s reinforcements, so it was probably even higher than that.  His hand trembled and he set the mouse down gently.  He hugged Snow to him, burying his face in its fur.

He’d done the right thing, John reminded himself.  He’d defended Atlantis.  He’d saved Rodney and Elizabeth. 

He shivered. 

His soulmate had been his advocate.  Had he…had his soulmate believed John had done the right thing or was he horrified?

His soulmate was a Marine, John reminded himself.  Surely a Marine would understand.  The wolf bumped his hand and looked up at John with calm amber eyes.  Right.  It was unlikely his soulmate’s animal would have stuck around if his soulmate had had an issue with John.

“OK,” John murmured.  “OK.”

He turned back to his laptop and closed down Rodney’s email.  He’d deal with Elizabeth’s betrayal when he had time to go punch a bag for an hour or have Teyla distract him with a spar.

He shifted the cursor to an email from Everett but stopped.  He frowned at the sight of an email from the new Colonel just above Everett’s.  O’Neill had said to watch the video Sumner had sent him…

John clicked on the email.

“Lieutenant Colonel Sheppard,

May I be the second person after the General to wish you congratulations on your promotion?

I would have wanted to do this introduction in person, but please watch the video.  It will explain everything.

Marshall.”

The wolf whined.

John’s mouth was dry.  He clicked on the video.

The window opened up immediately into the video player. 

A sharply good-looking man stared down the camera lens; brown hair cut into Marine shortness, a straight nose and strong jaw, clear blue eyes.  He suited the green Marine uniform with its impressive array of medals.

John shifted in his chair.

Sumner cleared his throat.  “I had a whole speech prepared but now I’m in front of the camera I don’t think it’s right.”

John leaned forward.

Sumner lifted his arm and a bird flew into view.  A gyrfalcon, John realised.  A gyrfalcon…John felt the rightness of the bird resonate in his bones.

“He’s yours,” Sumner said bluntly.  His blue eyes stared directly into the camera as though he could see John.  “I’m…yours.”

That knocked the breath right out of John’s lungs.

“Or I hope so,” Sumner said – no. 

Marshall, John corrected the name in his head, remembering how the other man had signed off his email.  His soulmate, Marshall.

Marshall gazed at him.  “I wasn’t expecting to get a soulmate.  I’m almost fifty, a widower with three grown children – my daughter talked me into this video.  I didn’t think a soulmate was on the cards for me, but…I want it.  I want you.”

John felt his breath catch.  He rubbed his chest with one hand, reaching out to hold onto the wolf with the other.     

“But this is your choice,” Marshall said firmly.  “That said, I’m making arrangements to come to you.  The General’s appointed me as the interim CO – interim only so if you don’t want this, I’ll stay home.”

John wanted to protest the idea; he pressed his lips together. 

“I know you have other choices to make.  If you want this, want me…we’ll need a solution for the COC if you want to stay in the Air Force.  But don’t let…” Marshall gestured at the camera.  “Do what’s right for you, John.  You’re a great officer.  You deserve to wear that uniform.  We’ll find a solution, I promise, if staying in is what you want.”

John absently patted Snow.  He’d never had someone just support his right to choose so fervently before; never had someone so proud of his service before.

“I’ve asked not to speak to you directly until we’re together on Atlantis,” Marshall continued.  “I…I’d like our first time of meeting to be in person.”

Yes.  John wanted that too.

“I’m going to record some more video messages though and…” Marshall offered a small smile, “I hope you’ll do the same.  I hope your choice is that…you’re mine.”

John felt the impact of that down to his soul.

“Stay safe, John,” Marshall said.

The video ended, the screen turning black.

John pressed the re-watch icon without even thinking about it.  He drank in the sight of his soulmate.  He listened to every word, to the tone of Marshall’s voice as he said John’s name.

“I hope your choice is that…you’re mine.”

John paused the video.  He looked at his soulmate, met the direct gaze as though Marshall was looking at him for real.  He didn’t need to think about it.  He knew what his choice was going to be.  He’d known it since the wolf had leapt into his life and killed the Wraith.

“I’m yours,” John promised shakily.  “I’m yours.”

Next: Distant Stars: Part 3