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sga_santaTitle: Red Flowers
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
temaris
Pairing: McKay/Sheppard (established)
Rating: PG
Recipient:pollitt
Spoilers: Fourth season casting only.
Summary:
On Canlaon, anything is for sale.
Caveat emptor -- let the buyer beware.
Author's Note: This was intended to be a straightforward team thing, and then it got a little away from me :-) I hope you enjoy :-)
Many thanks to my last minute beta readers! You know who you are (and after the reveal everyone else will too :-) ) and you are fabulousity itself.
Part 1
Part 2
-+-
Earlier
His face hurt. It felt sore, like a chemical burn, or the aftermath of aftershave on sunburn. He pressed his hand against the sore patch, right over his mouth, and winced at the touch even as the coolness of his hand seeped into his raw skin and eased it. He needed some water. Wash his skin free of whatever the hell he'd managed to get on it, and wet his throat.
He sat up, one hand still pressed against his jaw, shifting it to and fro absently, trying to soothe the whole area. He blinked a couple of times before his surroundings registered clearly.
Then he blinked a couple more times.
The room was large and airy. Natural light flooded in from one window, a breeze rippling light drapes on the windows. He was in a big, comfortable bed; the other end of the room held a couch, a pair of chairs, a table holding a tray with a jug of some dark liquid and some food -- and his pack!
He scrambled across the bed and stood up, then grabbed for the mattress as his knees buckled and he collapsed back onto it. "Oh god." He swallowed hard, then swallowed again, trying to hold the thin taste of bile back. "That wasn't fun." He lay very still, he was curled awkwardly on top of one arm but he didn't dare move and give his stomach any further votes in the puke/don't puke stakes.
He closed his eyes, hoping that sensation of spinning would ease, but instead it started to feel like the bed he was lying on was swaying in great, rolling waves while staying utterly motionless. Lights swung lazily behind his eyelids, kaleidoscopic and dizzying, and suddenly all he could think of was not being on the bed when --
Damn.
Well. On the positive side he'd managed to not puke on the bed. He rolled onto his back and tried not to think about anything at all. Particularly not the smell.
Where were the others?
"John?" he tried, but his voice cracked halfway through and he had to swallow and try again. "John? Teyla?" He thought about it for a moment, and turned his head slowly and carefully, first one way and then the other. He couldn't see them, but they might be on the floor. "Ronon?"
He reached one hand to his ear, but the radio was gone. "Should have known," he muttered. He probably ought to sit up and check the rest of the room. He thought about that for a while, then swung his feet around and sat up.
"Oh god." His stomach lurched alarmingly and he decided to sit very still and contemplate his pack, miles away across the room. If he could just make it over there, he would have all his equipment and -- he wasn't sure what next, but it would undoubtedly be brilliant and he would barely need any rescuing at all.
Wait. Where was Ronon? Hadn't he been with Rodney? "Ronon? Where are you? Ronon?" he called, and took a look around the room, now that his body had quit protesting. No reply, and no sign of any of the others. He frowned, trying to unscramble his rather disjointed memories.
No. He'd told Ronon to go wash his hands. To leave him all alone among clearly evil kidnapping aliens and go wash his hands. Because clean hands were more important than oh, not getting kidnapped.
John was going to kill him. If the aliens didn't beat him to it.
The silence was kind of unnerving. It wasn't that he was ungrateful for the quiet, not with his head gently imploding. He wasn't used to there being absolutely no one around any more. If he woke up alone, well, that was unavoidable some days, even if he wasn't really used to it any more. He deliberately forced his thoughts away from that, and back to the current situation.
"Is there anyone there?" he called. "Hello! Sick scientist here! If your hostage dies, you're not going to have much to bargain with, are you? I have allergies! And a medical condition! If that's the wrong sort of food, I'll die!"
No one replied, and he drew a couple of deep breaths. Pack. And maybe some water. And escape.
The door opened and Idarial walked in, all smiles.
"Doctor McKay, you're awake!"
Memory flooded back, and Rodney stood up, perhaps a little too abruptly, because when he was paying attention again he was being guided, a solicitous hand on his elbow, and just, no. He jerked away, and Idarial simply smiled as though that was what he had intended all along.
"Please, take a seat, Doctor." He pulled out a chair at the table. "Doctor?"
Rodney sat. Idarial settled himself the other side of the table, and lifted a jug. "Vecris juice. I believe you have already sampled the fruit it comes from."
He hesitated, and Idarial's smile slipped somewhat. "If you prefer, I can find something else."
"I'd prefer to be with my friends," Rodney said sharply. "You've already drugged me once, how do I know you haven't poisoned that too?"
Idarial shrugged and poured himself a glass, and sipped at it. "Please yourself," he said and sipped again, pointedly.
"Vecris? Like the pie?" Rodney said and reached a hand for a glass, "Well..."
"We have no reason to harm you, Doctor McKay," Idarial put his glass down and leaned in, "We wish to negotiate with you."
"I --" Memory flooded back and he jerked back. "You said I'd be part of the deal."
Idarial nodded. "The change of status was premature. Your friends are eager to discuss matters with you."
"What do you mean, eager," he asked, mind instantly filling with a dozen different scenarios, "Oh my god, you're threatening them to make me do what you want! Well, it won't work! I won't do it!" He folded his arms defiantly.
"No, of course not. Your friends are all fine. We simply want to trade information."
"So you can wipe out my planet! I don't think so!"
"We will offer your citizenship here if you wish. It is a great honor and seldom offered."
"Let me see, betray my planet and defect! What a wonderful idea. No!"
"We will not make this offer again," Idarial warned him.
"Good. No. I won't give you faster than light engines."
Idarial smiled faintly. "Very well. Just out of curiosity, Doctor McKay, do you even know how to make them?"
"Of course I -- well. Sort of. We originally got the design from the -- what have you done to me?" he asked, horrified, and clapped a hand over his mouth.
"We find that vecris encourages ... truthfulness. And speech." He drank again, and added, "Also, it has a very pleasant taste."
"But, but, you had it too, it was everywhere out there," he waved vaguely at the windows.
Idarial nodded. "We always tell the truth; it is other who lie and attempt to gain advantage from our ignorance. So, you do not actually know how to build such a engine?"
"What will you do to me if I say no?"
"Ask you for something you do know."
"And what is that," he asked warily.
"The location of your home world is probably too much to ask, but that of your galaxy? There are many other worlds there, doubtless. Could you pick your home galaxy out on a star map?"
"Probably, but I won't."
"Not even for your friends' lives?"
What were they doing to them? Oh god. Mutely he shook his head.
"Very well." Idarial rose. "Please, eat. There is nothing in the food other than what you see. Tethat, murmin, and the sauce is genja and mal. Nothing drugged or poisonous."
"Oh like I'm going to take your word for it!"
"Or there is food in your pack," Idarial said, and Rodney stared. "We are not thieves," the man added, apparently offended. "We have no need to steal when we can trade."
"Hah! Your idea of trading is pretty close to other people's ideas about stealing," Rodney snapped back, and was gratified to see Idarial's serenity broken by a look of fury. It didn't last.
"As you please, Doctor. We will resume this discussion later." He turned on his heel and stalked across the room to the door, tapped out a sequence of numbers on the keypad. It opened and he caught a glimpse of an armsman on the outside.
"Wait! What are you doing to them? Please?"
Idarial paused, his hand on the door frame. "For that information, Doctor McKay, I would require you give me something of equal value." He bowed politely, and closed the door quietly behind him.
-+-
His hand shook as he filled a glass with water from the faucet in the bathroom. He hesitated for long seconds -- a dozen different ways they could have spiked the glass, the faucet, the water suggesting themselves to him -- but he had to drink something to get that taste out of his mouth. He rinsed and spat, rinsed again, then gulped the rest of it down.
His headache began to fade, and he was pretty sure that the rest would fade with food. He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror and scowled. His jaw was red and still felt sore, but not as much as before. He sluiced the skin a couple of times and dried it off. It didn't look any different, but the cool water had felt good.
Next: food. He checked his pack -- two power bars -- and he ate one down swiftly, considered the second, and stuck it in a pocket instead.
The food on the table smelled really good.
He ignored it and went back to his pack and checked it swiftly. He still had his three knives -- he conceded that the spork wasn't likely to save his life unless this turned much more bizarre than he was expecting. Nothing like weapons, but apparently they wanted to be able to sell their highly collectible Lantean scientist with the full action pack, because nothing was missing.
He turned on the laptop, and scowled as it refused to boot. He switched out the battery for the supposedly fully charged spare and scowled further when nothing happened. He knew he hadn't used the laptop that much, and he was pretty sure he hadn't been out long enough for anyone to use the batteries up, so either they'd been replaced or had the charge dumped. Bastards.
Presumably they'd had a good look first, and he wished them joy of decrypting the thing. Why use up all the battery power if -- he stopped, trying to think what was on there if they did break it. Nothing pointing to Earth -- that was mandatory. Nothing even with the Atlantis gate address, or that of the alpha site. Not much meaningful research -- you'd have to be close to his level of understanding of physics to even decipher the equations, and that assumed that the notation was the same which it never was. Nothing sensitive; no gate addresses or recipes for starting your own game of global thermo-nuclear war. Which didn't make it safe. It might even be very interesting to someone smart enough.
He sat back and looked at the scattered contents of his pack, and absently pulled the plate closer and forked up a mouthful of the green stuff. Hmm. Maybe there was something he could do. He took a long look at the keypad by the door, then eyed the light fitting in the ceiling thoughtfully, and pulled up a chair.
-+-
"Ow!" Rodney tried to keep it down, but dammit, that hurt. He shook out his hand then blew on it, and, at a muffled sound from by his feet, thought to check on the guard, who was sprawled out on the floor, eyes rolled up in his head and moaning. As he watched, the man attempted to get back up.
"Oh for -- what does it take?" he muttered. Knocking someone out always looked much easier in films. And less painful. Much less painful. Although, maybe he should have taken a lesson from how bad they were at science and not assumed that the depiction of fighting was -- he lifted the man's head and let it drop on the floor, hard. "Sorry," he whispered, "but it's definitely you or me, and it's not going to be me. Aren’t you unconscious yet?" He did it again, then prodded the man in the ribs. "Good."
He looked around for somewhere to dump the man, preferably with a lock. The first door opened on what looked like a tiny janitor's room, the second some sort of bedroom, the third bore a depressing similarity to a room he'd once had to run a seminar for ten undergraduates on vector analysis that had somehow degenerated into an excruciating exegesis on the difference between vector and scalar fields. The fundamentals of analytic calculus reduced to 'because I said so you lackwits!'. Not his finest -- janitor's closet?
And it was even lockable, he thought happily, and pocketed the key as he headed along the corridor. He needed to head up -- or at least, he amended, find a window to find out what floor he was on.
He spared a passing regret for the non-universality of numbering schemes. Every wall he passed might have the floor number painted on it in luminous paint, but it was all interior design to him, he thought morosely. The last time he'd gone anywhere he'd been heading down stairs. With Idarial.
His hand automatically moved up to tap his radio, and hit skin.
"Shit." He'd forgotten for a moment, and it could have fallen out anywhere -- or been taken, Idarial's snootiness about 'theft' notwithstanding. Which meant that the radio frequencies were probably compromised and Sheppard didn't know. They were going to kill him.
Assuming he got out of this alive, he added.
Wait. Janitor's closet? He turned on his heel and headed back. There had been some very familiar smells in there.
-+-
As they turned the corner they ran into someone dressed more like Fierb - tunic and baggy pants -- than the armsmen who'd been chasing them.
"Shit," Ronon muttered and brought his gun up.
"No, wait, can I help you? I am Idarial of the House of the Exterior and can--"
"I don't like the price," Sheppard said.
"But I haven't even offered terms--"
"Too bad. Ronon!"
"Gentlemen, perhaps we could -- "
"You heard the man," Ronon said shortly and shot Idarial in the chest. He collapsed to the floor, stunned. A guard came around the corner behind them, and Sheppard grabbed him, slamming him into the wall, one hand fisted in the collar of the guard's shirt, twisting hard. The man was struggling hard, and almost pulled away, his face turning purple as Sheppard's chokehold tightened. Sheppard slammed him back against the wall.
"What did you do with him?"
"Who?"
"McKay. Here, how about I offer you a deal -- I get information, you get to live." He tightened his grip again. The man croaked something his hands swatting ineffectually at Sheppard's.
"I didn't catch that," Sheppard said politely, "Maybe you'd like to try again?" He loosened his grip fractionally, and the man made a determined effort to escape, kicking viciously at Sheppard's knees. In response he leaned in closer and pushed one forearm across the guard's throat. "I have no problem killing you if he's dead," he said very softly into the guard's ear.
The man's heels drummed against the wall, and then he went limp. He stepped back let him crumple to the floor. "We really need someone who knows something."
"Did you kill him?"
Sheppard crouched. "Not dead," he said. "Going to complain?"
"Bet every dead body goes on a tally somewhere. It's going to be easier if they're not all on ours."
John blinked.
"Need a place to put them, though," he said.
They were just stacking their newest acquisition in a handy side room, when another explosion rocked the place.
They met each other's eyes; Ronon was smiling widely, and John realized that he was too. "I guess maybe McKay got fed up of waiting for us," he said.
-+-
They ran back towards the sounds of the explosion. Ronon jumped the stairs, and John followed, adrenalin and fear pushing him hard.
"One floor?"
"Search this and then down one."
"We could search faster if we took one each," Ronon suggested.
John hesitated then nodded. They could both take care of themselves. McKay -- Rodney could too. Mostly.
He opened the door on the next floor and called a quiet "good luck" to Ronon as he vaulted down to the next flight of stairs. "Check-in in ten minutes."
"You worry too much," Ronon said over the radio, and John went through the door unaccountably cheered.
"I think he was on this floor," he said casually over the radio, and waved his hand in front of his face. The smoke was almost impenetrable and had a strong smell of ammonia.
He edged through the smoke noiselessly, keeping to the walls. He nearly tripped over a body, and crouched for a second to check it wasn't McKay. The man was blue in the face, and John touched a hand to his throat. Damn. At least one on their account then.
"McKay?" he called softly, then coughed, the strong chemical smell getting to him. What the hell had Rodney done?
Someone stumbled up out of the smoke and he stepped back. The body shape was all wrong, too thin, too short even hunched over and coughing helplessly. He let them go past unhindered and pressed on, holding his sleeve over his mouth to try and cut the noxious atmosphere.
Another body on the ground, in the uniform of the armsmen who'd been chasing them earlier. Alive this time. He dragged the body to a door back a couple of yards, and shoved the man inside. The air was clearer, and he breathed in deep. He dug in his pocket and pulled out the strip of pillow slip, streaked and gory looking and tied it over mouth and nose. It might help some.
He slid out again and kept going, checking bodies as he found them, moving as swiftly as he could in the murky corridors.
"Rodney," he called, over and again, less and less sanguine about locating his lover with every step.
Static sounded in his ear, and he put his hand up. "Ronon?"
"--ppard, got -- " static crawled all over the transmission, and he couldn't make anything out.
"Say again, Ronon. You're breaking up. Please repeat."
Another burst of static, and then "--clear. Coming--" and gone again. He let go of the ear piece when nothing further came despite his repeated requests for Ronon to repeat. "Shit."
Back? Or keep going? Maybe 'clear' meant that the floor below was clear. If there was no smoke there Ronon could have made much better time, and be done already. So was he coming up after John? Or was something else going on?
He took another step and collided with someone coming the other way. He found an arm, twisted and drove the blocky attacker into the wall.
The man grunted, and John hissed. "Shut up! Not a word."
"Right, fine, first you leave me to --" the man paused to cough "-- rescue myself, and then you beat me up when I'm nearly dead from breathing in all this crud." A hand flailed and John let it, dropping his grip and turning the man around and pinning him to the wall with his body.
"Jesus."
"No, Colonel--" Rodney grunted as John kissed him, a quick hard press of mouths together, and pulled back.
"What the hell, McKay?" he hissed sharply. "You do not, ever, dump Ronon and go off by yourself."
He kissed him again, his hands running rapidly over Rodney's body, looking for any injuries.
"I'll -- mmph -- admit that I might, perhaps, have been more trusting than I should, but John, listen." He pushed Sheppard back. "We have to get out of here."
John glared at him, "Now you want to get out?"
"Oh, like you thought they were bad guys!"
"Not until you vanished and they told us they were going to trade you offworld as a slave."
"Really?" Rodney sounded interested and John rolled his eyes.
"More or less."
"What does that mean?" John turned and, one hand wrapped in the front of Rodney's tac vest, dragged him back towards the stairwell.
"Do you even know where you're going?" Rodney asked.
"We're meeting Ronon and then we're getting the hell out of here," John said sharply. "Now move it."
"Anyone would think you weren't pleased to see me."
"Rodney, not the time--"
"Okay, okay. I just --"
"Jesus." He pulled Rodney into the stairwell, checked it swiftly and found Ronon coming up the stairs towards them.
"Found him, huh?" Ronon said. "Found something else. Come on." He headed back down and John followed.
"Wait, wait, have they got a Wraith down there?" Rodney said urgently, and they both stopped, looking back at him.
"Wraith?" John said. Like this entire thing wasn't bad enough. Wraith too?
"They trade with Wraith, Colonel."
"We know," Ronon said grimly. "They traded Sateda to the Wraith. They'll deal with anything, if the price is right."
"They did -- " Rodney's jaw dropped. "Ronon, I--"
"Never mind," he dismissed. "No Wraith down there, but do you think there are some here?"
"They're building a Hive ship. With an intergalactic drive," he said looking between them. "We have to stop them!"
John nodded. "Where is it?" he asked tersely.
"I don't know exactly, but I'd bet it's something to do with those readings I was getting earlier. And," he added thoughtfully, "I'd bet that the power source I couldn't identify is some sort of hybrid Wraith/Ancient generator, which would explain why it didn't make sense on the scanner. Oh. I wonder--"
"Doesn't explain why it didn't get picked up by the MALP," John said grimly. "We need to change that."
"Yes, yes, but first, stop the Wraith getting the first step to culling Earth?"
"How?"
Rodney grinned. "I have a couple of ideas about that. They wanted me to help them out. Maybe I should take them up on that offer."
"They'll test it and find out."
"Yes, but we won't be here, with any luck. We just need to find the guy who took me, and sort something out."
"You want us to go back in there?"
Rodney nodded.
"And trade with people who are working with the Wraith? Am I the only one who thinks that is a really fucking bad idea?" John exploded.
Rodney blinked. "Or we could just leave," he offered tentatively.
"Yes. Let's do that. Except we haven't got Teyla," John snapped, and Rodney looked aghast.
"Where is she? You left her on her own with those--"
"Are you going to tell Teyla that we should have stayed and looked after her? She's the one negotiating for your life right now. You're the one who need rescuing."
"Hey, I rescued myself, thank you very much!" Rodney protested, and Ronon's hand went over his mouth.
"Shut up, both of you. You're wasting time." He turned Rodney and said," Are you going to listen?" Rodney nodded, wide eyed. Ronon removed his hand and Rodney stepped back.
"Did you give them any information," John asked quickly. Rodney shook his head.
"I don't think so," he said. "I was unconscious for a while --" John's eyes went to his head, remembering the bloodstains on the sheets back in that room.
"I'm fine!" Rodney said impatiently. Ronon frowned behind him. "Got a lump here," he said, poking lightly at the back of Rodney's skull.
"Ow! I do? Oh my god, those heathens hit me. And stop poking me," he rounded on Ronon, who pulled his hands away.
"Looks pretty minor to me," he said, mostly to John, who felt a knot of anxiety loosen. At least Rodney wasn't badly hurt. And John had him back.
"Minor?!" Rodney protested, and John turned him around, immediately seeing the matted patch of hair.
"It didn't bother you before, so I'd say it's pretty, minor, yeah," he agreed with Ronon, but brushed a gentle hand over the bump, just in case. He let his hand slide down to Rodney's neck and tugged him close, pressing his face to Rodney's neck and taking a second, just a couple of seconds, to breathe in his relief. "You're fine. Okay?" His grip tightened, and Rodney leaned into him.
"Okay."
"We need to move," Ronon said.
John smiled into Rodney's neck, and straightened up. "Let's go."
-+-
Teyla shook her head. "I cannot agree final terms until I have spoken to the rest of my team." The sun was low in the sky, and they were rapidly heading into the last hour or so before their check-in. They needed to get back up to the Ring, which would take time in itself. Perhaps it would be as well if they missed the check-in.
Colonel Carter had had the final word over the argument whether or not to come here. Teyla glanced at the windows set high in the negotiation hall, and sighed. A jumper could get in, but it would be stuck here until the Apollo arrived. The cave that the Ring was set against was deep enough for three or four people to stand in and avoid the backwash, but not anything bigger. There was a way, she'd used it herself, but when going through with goods, the Canlaon always sent the people through first, and the goods after, unobserved by anyone. She'd never seen it, and of course, despite Ronon's --now proven justified -- reservations about trading with the Canlaon she'd been sure that it would not matter. They could get back through the Ring themselves, and would not need a Jumper. She might have been living this down for months, except that they had all made mistakes as bad, over the years.
"Your 'team' are making themselves very difficult," Fierb said, his mouth pinched and sour looking. The geniality had worn off long since.
Teyla put on a sympathetic look, "Really? How ...annoying." She quelled her sudden urge to smile broadly. "Have you not been able to contact any of them?"
"There appears to be some difficulty communicating with the House of Knowledge." His teeth were gritted, and she did feel some sympathy for him, but on the whole, she preferred being on this side of her team's efforts.
"Oh," she reached over and helped herself to a slice of nut bread and slathered it with sweet vecris preserves. "Oh, I do like this. It's always one of my best memories about trading here."
"Please, have some more," Fierb said magnanimously, some tension easing about his eyes. "Perhaps we can include some as a sweetener for the Deal, for an early conclusion." He looked almost hopeful.
"Oh." Teyla licked at her fingers and contemplated another slice of the nut bread. She probably shouldn't. Even if it was delicious. "Did you find out what that earthquake was, earlier?" she asked as though she'd just thought of it, and Fierb's face pinched up even tighter. Oh dear. It had been Rodney, then, she thought happily, and took another slice after all.
-+-
They made their way back the way they had come. The House of Knowledge was in total disarray and those people who saw them seemed much more interested in getting out of the way than accosting them and demanding reparations.
"Wow," Rodney said as they entered the great hall that John had mentioned with all the science-traders. "You really did a number on this place -- oh my god, look at those!" He dived for crystals scattered all over the floor. John, who had been feeling quite pleased with himself winced. "What heathen did this!" Rodney wailed, picking up crystal after crystal, "Broken! Look!" He thrust the clouded crystal up at John.
"Now's not the time, Rodney," John said briskly.
Rodney looked narrowly up at him. "What do you mean now's not -- you've got your guilty face on! Did you do this?"
"It could have been your explosion," John said quickly, and took a step or two backwards. Casually.
Ronon leaned over, orientated himself within the hall, and patted John on the shoulder. "Nah, it was you when you pushed them all over and took out those two guys. It was great." He grinned at Rodney who seemed likely to explode.
"Thanks, buddy," John said to Ronon.
"No problem," Ronon smirked at him.
"Rodney, we really ought to be going!" People were starting to stop running away. It wouldn't be long before someone came back, and that could only lead to trouble. More trouble, he corrected, watching Rodney paw through the crystals.
"Wait, there might be some --"
"Now, Rodney!"
Rodney scowled and got to his feet. "I'm not going to forget this, Colonel."
"Be glad you're around to remember," Ronon said tersely. "Duck!"
Rodney dropped to the ground as bright blue light passed straight through where he'd been standing. Ronon fired back and a crash and scream suggested that he'd caught not only the attacker but possibly valuable merchandise. His team did the best collateral damage. They waited tensely for a half minute or so, but no further shots followed.
"Good shot," he said to Ronon, who looked vaguely offended: all his shots were good.
"Uh. Thanks," Rodney muttered, as Ronon pulled him to his feet.
"Welcome."
"Look, I'm pretty sure this is a control crystal for an Ancient hyperdrive--" Rodney said urgently, and John snapped his attention back to him.
"What?"
"They've got an FTL hyperdrive somewhere here, John."
"But not working, right?"
"Well, no, not when I saw it--"
"You saw it?" John grabbed his shoulders, "You didn't mention you'd seen it."
"On the way down here. I'm sure I mentioned that."
"No, Rodney. You didn't."
"Oh. Um. Wraith/Ancient hybrid power source?"
"Yes?"
"Probably powering the ship they're building."
John considered giving in to his urge to swat Rodney upside the head, and remembered the existing injury at the last moment. His hands flexed open and shut a couple of times. "There are times, McKay..." Rodney took a precautionary step back.
"I can find it!"
"You sure?"
"This is me, not you, Colonel. I can find my way out of a paper bag. Unlike some people."
"His point," Ronon observed. "We should move."
Rodney jammed the crystal into a pocket and swiftly picked up another three, picking them out of the mess. "Some people," he muttered.
"Hyperdrive!"
"This way," he said, and headed confidently to the back of the hall.
"We didn't come in this way, did we?" John said quietly to Ronon as they wove their way down the crowded aisles between the stands.
"Nope." He nodded to another corner "Over there. And we went out back there." He jerked a thumb over his shoulder, and John tried to line the room up with what he remembered. "Wasn't there someone with an SGC computer back by the door we came in?"
"Where?" Rodney turned swiftly.
"I thought you had a computer of your own?"
"Yes, but we've been hemorrhaging the damn things. Practically every time a mission goes bad they're the first thing to get abandoned, and retrieving a few of them might be a nice bonus to this really, really shitty day I've been having."
"But the -- "
"Hyperdrive, yes. I'll get the hyperdrive, you get the computer. There's another one attached to the Wraith drive anyway. If you get the one you saw that would be useful."
He paused and flapped his hands. "Well, go on then."
"We're not splitting up." John said definitely.
"Oh please. I've already rescued myself once today. I'm pretty sure that Ronon is perfectly capable of stopping off and picking me up a nice laptop, oh, and hey if they have any spare batteries -- they wiped the charge on mine -- that would be good.."
"Rodney!"
"It's important, John." He looked like he meant it too. Damn. He looked over at Ronon who shrugged. "Where's the hyperdrive unit, McKay?"
"In a secondary hall down two flights of stairs from the main entrance. It should be about fifteen minutes that way," he said. Ronon nodded. "Oh, um, you might need something to barter." He pulled the crystals out of his pockets and shuffled through them unhappily. "Well. That's the one we need the least, I guess," he said dismally, and slapped one into Ronon's waiting hand. "Try not to spend too much."
"Try not to get captured," he said, and jogged off into the depths of the hall.
"I do not believe you just sent Ronon off for a shopping trip."
"We need that computer, John."
"You said, but -- " He gestured at the devastation, mostly courtesy of their running battle with the Canlaon law enforcement.
"You're right. I bet Ronon gets a really good price." Rodney strained to look back across the hall. "Maybe we should all have gone--"
"Hyperdrive, Rodney. Focus. You can turn Ronon into your personal shopper some other day when we're not fighting for our lives and trying to stop the Wraith reaching Earth." John figured that the easiest thing was to get out. He could scream once they were all safely home. Also, discuss prioritizing on missions and while in combat situations with both Rodney -- which didn't surprise him because it wasn't a normal month if they didn't end up having that talk-- and Ronon -- which did surprise him, because usually Ronon was very goal orientated with regard to blowing the crap out of the other side.
"Oh. Right. This way."
-+-
Her radio clicked in her ear, and then clicked twice more.
"I think I need a break," she said. "If you would excuse me?"
"Of course," Fierb said. "We could break for the night if you prefer, pick this up tomorrow?"
Fierb looked almost anxious. Teyla shook her head, instincts warning her not to take this as the sign of weakness that it seemed.
"Thank you, I expect my team will be back shortly."
"Oh?" Fierb's gaze flickered to her headset, and she carefully kept her face expressionless.
"Indeed," she said, and rose to her feet. "Perhaps a short break to refresh ourselves?"
"That sounds like an excellent idea," Fierb agreed, his face brightening, and she wondered what he thought he was going to be able to do in the next half hour that he had not managed in the previous three. "Shall we reconvene here?"
"Unless you wish to move the negotiations somewhere else?"
There was a long pause, and Fierb said, a little too late to be casual, "We could take this to the House of Knowledge. We would be able to meet your friends there."
Ahh. They hoped to trade off a breakout with a hostage. "No, thank you," she smiled. "Colonel Sheppard asked me to stay in the House of the Exterior until the negotiations were concluded, or he -- and Doctor McKay and Specialist Dex -- all returned."
"Very well," Fierb said wearily. "Please, avail yourself of our hospitality as long as you wish."
"Thank you, old friend, I appreciate your generosity," Teyla smiled.
Out of the negotiating hall she swiftly found the relief rooms and made use of them, then tapped cautiously on the radio, the water still running loud in the background.
"Colonel?" she whispered.
"Teyla, good to hear you. We were getting a little worried when you missed your check-in."
"Major Lorne, I am most pleased to hear your voice," she whispered. "Where are you?"
"On the way down to the city with a couple of Jumpers of Marines, ma'am," he said cheerfully. "Where are you?"
"But how will you return to Atlantis, the cave is too small to --"
"Don't worry about that. Doctor Zelenka has a couple of ideas about how to get a Jumper back out of that Gate, even with the tight quarters, and the Apollo can be here in less than a day if it has to." Lorne paused then added, "What about the rest of your team?"
"I'm -- not sure where they are. Doctor McKay was, we think, kidnapped, and Ronon and Colonel Sheppard went to find him."
"You think he was kidnapped?"
"He may have gone of his own accord," Teyla said with a sigh, and Lorne chuckled.
"Situation normal then, ma'am?"
"Oh yes," Teyla agreed. "Although I believe you may be able to track Doctor McKay's progress by the falling buildings."
"Falling. Buildings." Lorne sounded amused.
"There have been at least two large explosions in the past hour or so. I believe that the Canlaon were not expecting them," she said blandly.
"Nobody expects Doctor McKay," Lorne said. "Are you okay for now?"
"Yes, but your presence, perhaps outside the walls, could prove most helpful."
"Roger that. Let us know if you need us in a hurry."
"I shall do so, Major. This is not secured, so -- "
"Understood. Standard extraction plan 4R then," Lorne said.
"Agreed."
"Lorne out."
Teyla rested her head against the cool tile wall for a second, then straightened up. An unexpected resource, though not as secret as she might hope. Still, the channel was encrypted. Even if she and Lorne were eavesdropped on, Fierb's men should only be able to get her side of the conversation in the clear. She had revealed the presence of another player in the game, but, she rather thought, this might not necessarily prove a mistake.
She straightened up. No. Played well, this could turn out for the best.
-+-
"Here," Rodney edged up to the corner, and peered around, then ducked back. "Yes, that's it."
"You sure?"
"I'm sure," Rodney said.
"Because the last three times you've said that, it was something else entirely."
"No, no, no, this time I'm sure." He turned and looked seriously up at John. "I recognize the corridor."
John rolled his eyes, and took point. "Watch my back, okay?"
"Got it." Rodney crept slowly behind John, watching the rear, John's Beretta in his hand. John stopped, and turned his head.
"Rodney?"
"Yes?"
"My back, not my ass."
"I know what to watch, Colonel." Rodney sniffed, keeping his eyes on the corridor. "You aren't that irresistible."
"Aw, but Rodney," John whined ,and Rodney couldn't help grinning.
"Down, boy," he murmured, and heard John chuckle under his breath.
"Oh hey, look at that," John said a moment later, and Rodney felt a tug on his shoulder.
He leaned against John's back to peer through the open door. "Yeah. That's it," he said softly. The hall wasn't quite as big as the one they'd left Ronon in, but it came damn close. The Aurora probably wouldn't have fitted in there, but the Daedalus would, easily.
"Okay, that's kinda big," John murmured.
"Size queen," Rodney muttered, but without any real force. John wasn't wrong about the size of the engines in there. Not even a whole ship. Just the engines. "I told you I'd know it when I saw it."
"I'd be surprised if you didn't," John admitted. "Damn."
"And they're building it for the Wraith to go munch on Jeannie," Rodney felt a little sick at the idea.
"Just on Jeannie," John stopped and cocked an eyebrow at him.
"Well, not specifically. But the general effect would be the same," he conceded. "And the rest of the planet, too," he added when John didn't stop eyeballing him. "All right, all right. Stop it."
"Stop that," John nodded at the giant engines. "Are those really going to get them to the Milky Way?"
"Not if I can help it," Rodney said grimly. He wrapped his hand around John's wrist. "Be careful."
John nodded, his eyes softening for second. "Keep your head down and don't get killed."
"Deal," Rodney said, wryly. "You deal with that lot, I'll deal with this," he said, and headed down the steps towards the diagnostics station. John followed him slowly, taking up a position on top of the engine.
Fortunately for John, the engine wasn't powered up, which meant Rodney couldn’t take the easy option of throwing a literal spanner in the works. Powering it up would certainly attract the sort of attention that John would disapprove of. Not to mention frying Sheppard.
Which meant doing something drastic to the programming instead. In the long run, probably a better idea anyway. He took a look at the diagnostics board and smiled broadly. They had another SGC computer wired into the damn thing. Bunch of idiots.
He tried out the keyboard, but it insisted on a password. "Oh, I don't think so," he muttered, and accessed the back door that every SGC computer that passed through his hands acquired. "That's better. Now, what've we got here?"
-+-
Sheppard was starting to worry about Ronon -- not much, just a little -- still carefully watching both Rodney's back and the entrances into the hall. No one came -- perhaps the mayhem in the great hall had convinced everyone that the better part of valor was getting the fuck out.
He checked his watch. Two hours past check-in. With any luck reinforcements were on their way. Teyla was still holding off the worst of Fierb's people -- he was pretty sure the use of the Wraith stunners meant that the Canlaon hadn't yet written off any chances of dealing with his team.
Rodney was safe, if a little battered -- and he ignored the impulse to look round, double check on him. Just Ronon to account for. He turned his head abruptly at the sound of running feet. He knew that pace.
He lined up on the door and waited. Seconds later Ronon swung through, and ran down the steps two and three at a time, looking enormously pleased with himself.
"Got it?"
"Got them," Ronon smirked at Rodney, who squeaked at the slap Ronon laid on his back, but made no other protest, instead jerking his own laptop off his back, and ramming in one of the battery packs Ronon had brought.
"I could kiss you!" he said joyfully, "But I won't," he added hastily, and Ronon flashed a quick smile up at John.
"Just as well," he agreed. "You killed it yet?"
"Nope, but with this, my friend, we're going to have ourselves a Wraith barbeque, friends invited," He beamed up at Ronon and then turned his smile on John, who shifted uncomfortably.
"Cool." Ronon leaned in, "What's that for?"
"Leave it be!" Rodney snapped. "And don't touch that either! Look, just go and sit next to Sheppard and be manly or something, okay?" Ronon slapped him on the back again, and swung himself up to perch on the engine casing next to John.
"You okay?" John asked, just in case. Ronon just looked at him. "Okay. Just thought I'd check."
Ronon grunted.
"Done!" Rodney grinned up at both of them. "Well, come on, let's get out of here."
"It didn't blow up."
"Yet, my friend. It didn't blow up yet, which I would've thought you'd be grateful for considering you're sitting on the damn thing."
"It's not the only one," John reminded him.
"Oh, wow, is it, I didn't notice, what with the giant engine standing right in front of me and everything." He laughed a little grimly. "They didn't fix the backdoors on their stolen SGC laptops, and you know what, I'm going to let them keep these ones."
"You're so generous, Rodney," John said, a slow smile burning onto his face.
"All heart," Rodney agreed. "Now, we really probably shouldn't be here when they fire these up."
"Rodney, just how big an explosion are we talking?"
"Take out the damn planet," Ronon said eagerly.
"Not that big."
"Take out the engines?" John said hopefully.
"Not that small. I think we're a fair distance outside the town walls here, so it shouldn't kill everyone in Canlaon."
"Shouldn't?" John lifted an eyebrow.
"Well, I wouldn't want to hang about here to find out," Rodney said, swiftly packing up. "Talking of which?"
"Yes. I don't like this place. Let's pick up Teyla and go home."
"Agreed."
-+-
A commotion outside the negotiating hall caught Teyla's attention. She kept her eyes on Fierb, who didn't by so much as a flicker show that he heard or saw anything untoward. An armsman came up from the door behind Teyla -- it made her back itch, having it to the door, but no matter -- and whispered into Fierb's ear.
He nodded once, and the armsman retreated. "Teyla, I believe that we may be able to come to an agreement," he smiled broadly at her.
"Oh?" She arched an eyebrow at him.
"I believe I have one of your conditions met."
"Hey! Get your hands off me, jackass! You're going to regret this so much, you don't even know!"
Teyla smiled at the table, and turned. "Rodney, you are well."
"I'd be better," he was allowed to wrench himself away from the armsmen holding him, and hurried over to her, "if those testosterone soaked pea brains hadn't decided to drag me halfway across the city."
"Truly?" She frowned at Fierb, who glared portentously at the offending armsmen.
"I shall discuss their techniques for crowd control very firmly," he said. "Please, Doctor McKay, accept my apologies for such rough handling, and do take a seat."
"I am not a crowd," Rodney grumbled, but took the seat offered to him.
"Rodney," Teyla said under her breath, "where are Ronon and Colonel Sheppard?"
He bounced slightly in his seat, "Let me take it from here, Teyla."
"Rodney?" she said, very doubtfully.
"Trust me! Or, okay, we have a plan. Just follow my lead."
"Very well."
Rodney sat up straight, his smuggest look in full force. Fierb looked worried. Teyla could relate.
"Okay, Fibble, here's the deal. We know what you want, and we'll let you have it, and in return we're going to leave here with everything we currently have in our possession, and we'll never come back. How's that sound?"
"Unusual," Fierb said, a faint smile pulling at his mouth. "Doctor McKay, perhaps you should leave negotiations to Teyla Emmagan. She is exceptionally skilled." He nodded to her, and she felt a pleasant glow of accomplishment. She might not like anything about the Canlaon or this place any more, but that did not negate the value of the compliment. Indeed, it raised its value further, that she had so impressed them when so very anxious about her teammates.
"No, Fierb," she stilled his protests with a slightly raised hand. "Doctor McKay has my fullest confidence." He turned and smiled blindingly at her.
"Thank you." He cleared his throat. "Let's not waste time," he said. "You are building intergalactic hyperdrive engines for the Wraith, that they may prey on my native galaxy. You want the co-ordinates, and the schematics of a faster than light drive."
Fierb's eyebrows twitched.
"I will not give you the co-ordinates of my home galaxy -- what do you think I am? Anyway, never mind that. I can give you the galactic location of another inhabited galaxy, which may be to the Wraith's taste."
"Rodney!" Teyla stared, horrified. "You cannot condemn an entire galaxy to the scourge of the Wraith. Your name will be cursed for a thousand generations!"
"But not here, and not back home, Teyla," Rodney said fiercely. "That's what matters. Trust me."
"But--"
"John and Ronon agree. It's the only way."
Teyla shook her head but said nothing more.
Fierb shook his head. "And how will we know that you are not tricking us in some fashion?"
"You don't," Rodney said. He reached over and poured himself a glass of vecris, "May I?" He took a sip. "I could be lying. I could be about to destroy this town and everyone in it. I might be on the verge of blowing up your stardrives. Or I might be telling the truth. If I'm telling the truth, you've gained immensely, and we've got the things that interest us. If not," he shrugged. "You lose nothing."
"And what do you want?"
"The seed stock Teyla negotiated for; the fabrics and metals." He threw a smile at Teyla. "And a bottle of selath oil. A big one, mind."
Fierb swallowed, once, twice. "You want to barter away this information for what we would have traded medicines and trinkets for?"
Rodney nodded. "We don't like you. We don’t want to trade with you, but you have things we need. All I want is to go home," and he looked tired, Teyla realized. There was a knot on the back of his head, bloody and matted, and he smelled terrible.
"Where is this galaxy?" Fierb said cautiously, and Teyla bit her lip.
Rodney smiled, apparently knowing as well as she that the trade was all but sealed.
"Celestis. I'll show your scientists. Oh. And I'd strongly recommend you test your engines out of atmosphere. The energy they convert when they work at full power could destroy a planet."
Fierb nodded, once. "Done."
Teyla leaned forward, a hand on Rodney's under the table. "And done. Sealed by Atlantis." She held out her free hand. And Fierb placed his into it, palm down.
"Sealed by Canlaon," he said, and they both stood.
-+-
Teyla shuddered with relief as she walked out of the hall.
"We feared for you, Rodney," she murmured, and tightened her grip on his hand.
"I'm fine," he whispered back, noisily, and she smiled.
"I am glad." She turned and pulled him down to brush her forehead against his, mind to mind. "I imagine Colonel Sheppard is also glad." They walked on after a moment's quiet.
"Not so's you'd notice," he grumbled, and rubbed at his wrist, but he was smiling, and she bumped into his side, and he bumped her back.
"The Marines are here," she said a few minutes later, as they waited for Canlaon to fulfill their side of the Deal.
Rodney grunted. "Sheppard thought so. We're probably going to need the Apollo to get them out of here, of course."
"We could wait."
"We really don't want to be here any longer than we have to," he said.
"What have you done, Rodney?" she asked quietly, fear in her heart.
"Nothing -- if they pay attention to the instructions."
"And if they do not?"
"Then the hyperdrives will explode as they reach the trans-light zone. It's not entirely precise," he looked unhappy, "mostly because once you reach fractions of c weird stuff starts happening and it's more probabilistic than mechanistic, but. Mmm. Within point zero five of c, plus or minus. Boom."
"What if they try the engines on planet?" she said warily.
"I really hope they don't do that," he said, and his face was bleak. "I've warned them in the strongest terms not to do that."
"But they have no means to make orbit to test outside of atmosphere!"
"Oh, don't they?" He shook his head. "They've been working on Wraith Hive ships for generations, at a guess. I'd bet they've hived off a little for themselves, as it were."
Teyla couldn't believe her ears. "They --"
"I saw it, Teyla. Me and John and Ronon. They're outside with the Marines, just in case Fierb changes his mind and decides to keep me after all."
"You cannot kill them all, Rodney. They are not all guilty. And not everyone on this planet is in this town."
Rodney nodded. "I know. But, Teyla, they've all profited. I shouldn't think there's a person here over the age of fourteen who doesn’t have a very good idea of what is going on. They've kept back technology and medicine, they've bargained for the safety of their world and made advances so that the Wraith could better cull others."
"They trade with anybody," she said, almost to herself. "Anybody."
"Yes."
The first cart was full, and the carters were roping down the boxes and barrels on the second.
"Hi! Hi! Heya!" The first cart slowly groaned its way out of the great wooden gates, the carter slapping his reins against the oxen to encourage them. Teyla waited silently with Rodney. They would follow behind the second cart.
Fierb approached, one hand outstretched. "Doctor McKay! Teyla, my dear."
"The scientists are satisfied, then," Teyla said, when Rodney remained silent.
"Very satisfied. I'm surprised you haven't heard their howls from here," he said, smiling broadly.
"Good."
"Tell them -- tell them to be careful," Rodney said abruptly. "They must not try this in a planetary atmosphere. It runs the risk of igniting the atmosphere or even blowing half the planet apart. It's nothing to fool around with."
"I will tell them," Fierb promised. "I have told them, and they understand. Oh, this is a wonderful day, I cannot express what we owe you. If you ever return, we will give you the same over again, twice over."
"This is plenty," Rodney said. "Just get them to our transportation sites, and we'll do the rest."
Fierb nodded, and then touched his forehead to Teyla's, shook Rodney's hand, "This is how you people do it, yes? Good. Good."
-+-
Up on the hillside, the Gate had been turned around.
"It is on a pivot," Zelenka said excitedly, "See, very clever. A little tricky to keep the wires untangled, yes. Perhaps if we set it up as wireless, they could do it even remotely."
"We're not coming back, Radek," John said softly. Zelenka looked bewildered as Rodney walked straight past him. John followed Rodney and they stood close together in the shadow of the puddlejumper as the Marines loaded everything up from the carts.
"Radek," Teyla said, turning a bottle of some dark, slow moving liquid over in her hands, "What does it mean, 'thirty pieces of silver'?"
Radek stopped and stared at her, at the carts, at McKay huddled into Sheppard. "A price too high, Teyla. A price too high."
Author:
temarisPairing: McKay/Sheppard (established)
Rating: PG
Recipient:
pollittSpoilers: Fourth season casting only.
Summary:
On Canlaon, anything is for sale.
Caveat emptor -- let the buyer beware.
Author's Note: This was intended to be a straightforward team thing, and then it got a little away from me :-) I hope you enjoy :-)
Many thanks to my last minute beta readers! You know who you are (and after the reveal everyone else will too :-) ) and you are fabulousity itself.
Part 1
Part 2
Earlier
His face hurt. It felt sore, like a chemical burn, or the aftermath of aftershave on sunburn. He pressed his hand against the sore patch, right over his mouth, and winced at the touch even as the coolness of his hand seeped into his raw skin and eased it. He needed some water. Wash his skin free of whatever the hell he'd managed to get on it, and wet his throat.
He sat up, one hand still pressed against his jaw, shifting it to and fro absently, trying to soothe the whole area. He blinked a couple of times before his surroundings registered clearly.
Then he blinked a couple more times.
The room was large and airy. Natural light flooded in from one window, a breeze rippling light drapes on the windows. He was in a big, comfortable bed; the other end of the room held a couch, a pair of chairs, a table holding a tray with a jug of some dark liquid and some food -- and his pack!
He scrambled across the bed and stood up, then grabbed for the mattress as his knees buckled and he collapsed back onto it. "Oh god." He swallowed hard, then swallowed again, trying to hold the thin taste of bile back. "That wasn't fun." He lay very still, he was curled awkwardly on top of one arm but he didn't dare move and give his stomach any further votes in the puke/don't puke stakes.
He closed his eyes, hoping that sensation of spinning would ease, but instead it started to feel like the bed he was lying on was swaying in great, rolling waves while staying utterly motionless. Lights swung lazily behind his eyelids, kaleidoscopic and dizzying, and suddenly all he could think of was not being on the bed when --
Damn.
Well. On the positive side he'd managed to not puke on the bed. He rolled onto his back and tried not to think about anything at all. Particularly not the smell.
Where were the others?
"John?" he tried, but his voice cracked halfway through and he had to swallow and try again. "John? Teyla?" He thought about it for a moment, and turned his head slowly and carefully, first one way and then the other. He couldn't see them, but they might be on the floor. "Ronon?"
He reached one hand to his ear, but the radio was gone. "Should have known," he muttered. He probably ought to sit up and check the rest of the room. He thought about that for a while, then swung his feet around and sat up.
"Oh god." His stomach lurched alarmingly and he decided to sit very still and contemplate his pack, miles away across the room. If he could just make it over there, he would have all his equipment and -- he wasn't sure what next, but it would undoubtedly be brilliant and he would barely need any rescuing at all.
Wait. Where was Ronon? Hadn't he been with Rodney? "Ronon? Where are you? Ronon?" he called, and took a look around the room, now that his body had quit protesting. No reply, and no sign of any of the others. He frowned, trying to unscramble his rather disjointed memories.
No. He'd told Ronon to go wash his hands. To leave him all alone among clearly evil kidnapping aliens and go wash his hands. Because clean hands were more important than oh, not getting kidnapped.
John was going to kill him. If the aliens didn't beat him to it.
The silence was kind of unnerving. It wasn't that he was ungrateful for the quiet, not with his head gently imploding. He wasn't used to there being absolutely no one around any more. If he woke up alone, well, that was unavoidable some days, even if he wasn't really used to it any more. He deliberately forced his thoughts away from that, and back to the current situation.
"Is there anyone there?" he called. "Hello! Sick scientist here! If your hostage dies, you're not going to have much to bargain with, are you? I have allergies! And a medical condition! If that's the wrong sort of food, I'll die!"
No one replied, and he drew a couple of deep breaths. Pack. And maybe some water. And escape.
The door opened and Idarial walked in, all smiles.
"Doctor McKay, you're awake!"
Memory flooded back, and Rodney stood up, perhaps a little too abruptly, because when he was paying attention again he was being guided, a solicitous hand on his elbow, and just, no. He jerked away, and Idarial simply smiled as though that was what he had intended all along.
"Please, take a seat, Doctor." He pulled out a chair at the table. "Doctor?"
Rodney sat. Idarial settled himself the other side of the table, and lifted a jug. "Vecris juice. I believe you have already sampled the fruit it comes from."
He hesitated, and Idarial's smile slipped somewhat. "If you prefer, I can find something else."
"I'd prefer to be with my friends," Rodney said sharply. "You've already drugged me once, how do I know you haven't poisoned that too?"
Idarial shrugged and poured himself a glass, and sipped at it. "Please yourself," he said and sipped again, pointedly.
"Vecris? Like the pie?" Rodney said and reached a hand for a glass, "Well..."
"We have no reason to harm you, Doctor McKay," Idarial put his glass down and leaned in, "We wish to negotiate with you."
"I --" Memory flooded back and he jerked back. "You said I'd be part of the deal."
Idarial nodded. "The change of status was premature. Your friends are eager to discuss matters with you."
"What do you mean, eager," he asked, mind instantly filling with a dozen different scenarios, "Oh my god, you're threatening them to make me do what you want! Well, it won't work! I won't do it!" He folded his arms defiantly.
"No, of course not. Your friends are all fine. We simply want to trade information."
"So you can wipe out my planet! I don't think so!"
"We will offer your citizenship here if you wish. It is a great honor and seldom offered."
"Let me see, betray my planet and defect! What a wonderful idea. No!"
"We will not make this offer again," Idarial warned him.
"Good. No. I won't give you faster than light engines."
Idarial smiled faintly. "Very well. Just out of curiosity, Doctor McKay, do you even know how to make them?"
"Of course I -- well. Sort of. We originally got the design from the -- what have you done to me?" he asked, horrified, and clapped a hand over his mouth.
"We find that vecris encourages ... truthfulness. And speech." He drank again, and added, "Also, it has a very pleasant taste."
"But, but, you had it too, it was everywhere out there," he waved vaguely at the windows.
Idarial nodded. "We always tell the truth; it is other who lie and attempt to gain advantage from our ignorance. So, you do not actually know how to build such a engine?"
"What will you do to me if I say no?"
"Ask you for something you do know."
"And what is that," he asked warily.
"The location of your home world is probably too much to ask, but that of your galaxy? There are many other worlds there, doubtless. Could you pick your home galaxy out on a star map?"
"Probably, but I won't."
"Not even for your friends' lives?"
What were they doing to them? Oh god. Mutely he shook his head.
"Very well." Idarial rose. "Please, eat. There is nothing in the food other than what you see. Tethat, murmin, and the sauce is genja and mal. Nothing drugged or poisonous."
"Oh like I'm going to take your word for it!"
"Or there is food in your pack," Idarial said, and Rodney stared. "We are not thieves," the man added, apparently offended. "We have no need to steal when we can trade."
"Hah! Your idea of trading is pretty close to other people's ideas about stealing," Rodney snapped back, and was gratified to see Idarial's serenity broken by a look of fury. It didn't last.
"As you please, Doctor. We will resume this discussion later." He turned on his heel and stalked across the room to the door, tapped out a sequence of numbers on the keypad. It opened and he caught a glimpse of an armsman on the outside.
"Wait! What are you doing to them? Please?"
Idarial paused, his hand on the door frame. "For that information, Doctor McKay, I would require you give me something of equal value." He bowed politely, and closed the door quietly behind him.
His hand shook as he filled a glass with water from the faucet in the bathroom. He hesitated for long seconds -- a dozen different ways they could have spiked the glass, the faucet, the water suggesting themselves to him -- but he had to drink something to get that taste out of his mouth. He rinsed and spat, rinsed again, then gulped the rest of it down.
His headache began to fade, and he was pretty sure that the rest would fade with food. He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror and scowled. His jaw was red and still felt sore, but not as much as before. He sluiced the skin a couple of times and dried it off. It didn't look any different, but the cool water had felt good.
Next: food. He checked his pack -- two power bars -- and he ate one down swiftly, considered the second, and stuck it in a pocket instead.
The food on the table smelled really good.
He ignored it and went back to his pack and checked it swiftly. He still had his three knives -- he conceded that the spork wasn't likely to save his life unless this turned much more bizarre than he was expecting. Nothing like weapons, but apparently they wanted to be able to sell their highly collectible Lantean scientist with the full action pack, because nothing was missing.
He turned on the laptop, and scowled as it refused to boot. He switched out the battery for the supposedly fully charged spare and scowled further when nothing happened. He knew he hadn't used the laptop that much, and he was pretty sure he hadn't been out long enough for anyone to use the batteries up, so either they'd been replaced or had the charge dumped. Bastards.
Presumably they'd had a good look first, and he wished them joy of decrypting the thing. Why use up all the battery power if -- he stopped, trying to think what was on there if they did break it. Nothing pointing to Earth -- that was mandatory. Nothing even with the Atlantis gate address, or that of the alpha site. Not much meaningful research -- you'd have to be close to his level of understanding of physics to even decipher the equations, and that assumed that the notation was the same which it never was. Nothing sensitive; no gate addresses or recipes for starting your own game of global thermo-nuclear war. Which didn't make it safe. It might even be very interesting to someone smart enough.
He sat back and looked at the scattered contents of his pack, and absently pulled the plate closer and forked up a mouthful of the green stuff. Hmm. Maybe there was something he could do. He took a long look at the keypad by the door, then eyed the light fitting in the ceiling thoughtfully, and pulled up a chair.
"Ow!" Rodney tried to keep it down, but dammit, that hurt. He shook out his hand then blew on it, and, at a muffled sound from by his feet, thought to check on the guard, who was sprawled out on the floor, eyes rolled up in his head and moaning. As he watched, the man attempted to get back up.
"Oh for -- what does it take?" he muttered. Knocking someone out always looked much easier in films. And less painful. Much less painful. Although, maybe he should have taken a lesson from how bad they were at science and not assumed that the depiction of fighting was -- he lifted the man's head and let it drop on the floor, hard. "Sorry," he whispered, "but it's definitely you or me, and it's not going to be me. Aren’t you unconscious yet?" He did it again, then prodded the man in the ribs. "Good."
He looked around for somewhere to dump the man, preferably with a lock. The first door opened on what looked like a tiny janitor's room, the second some sort of bedroom, the third bore a depressing similarity to a room he'd once had to run a seminar for ten undergraduates on vector analysis that had somehow degenerated into an excruciating exegesis on the difference between vector and scalar fields. The fundamentals of analytic calculus reduced to 'because I said so you lackwits!'. Not his finest -- janitor's closet?
And it was even lockable, he thought happily, and pocketed the key as he headed along the corridor. He needed to head up -- or at least, he amended, find a window to find out what floor he was on.
He spared a passing regret for the non-universality of numbering schemes. Every wall he passed might have the floor number painted on it in luminous paint, but it was all interior design to him, he thought morosely. The last time he'd gone anywhere he'd been heading down stairs. With Idarial.
His hand automatically moved up to tap his radio, and hit skin.
"Shit." He'd forgotten for a moment, and it could have fallen out anywhere -- or been taken, Idarial's snootiness about 'theft' notwithstanding. Which meant that the radio frequencies were probably compromised and Sheppard didn't know. They were going to kill him.
Assuming he got out of this alive, he added.
Wait. Janitor's closet? He turned on his heel and headed back. There had been some very familiar smells in there.
As they turned the corner they ran into someone dressed more like Fierb - tunic and baggy pants -- than the armsmen who'd been chasing them.
"Shit," Ronon muttered and brought his gun up.
"No, wait, can I help you? I am Idarial of the House of the Exterior and can--"
"I don't like the price," Sheppard said.
"But I haven't even offered terms--"
"Too bad. Ronon!"
"Gentlemen, perhaps we could -- "
"You heard the man," Ronon said shortly and shot Idarial in the chest. He collapsed to the floor, stunned. A guard came around the corner behind them, and Sheppard grabbed him, slamming him into the wall, one hand fisted in the collar of the guard's shirt, twisting hard. The man was struggling hard, and almost pulled away, his face turning purple as Sheppard's chokehold tightened. Sheppard slammed him back against the wall.
"What did you do with him?"
"Who?"
"McKay. Here, how about I offer you a deal -- I get information, you get to live." He tightened his grip again. The man croaked something his hands swatting ineffectually at Sheppard's.
"I didn't catch that," Sheppard said politely, "Maybe you'd like to try again?" He loosened his grip fractionally, and the man made a determined effort to escape, kicking viciously at Sheppard's knees. In response he leaned in closer and pushed one forearm across the guard's throat. "I have no problem killing you if he's dead," he said very softly into the guard's ear.
The man's heels drummed against the wall, and then he went limp. He stepped back let him crumple to the floor. "We really need someone who knows something."
"Did you kill him?"
Sheppard crouched. "Not dead," he said. "Going to complain?"
"Bet every dead body goes on a tally somewhere. It's going to be easier if they're not all on ours."
John blinked.
"Need a place to put them, though," he said.
They were just stacking their newest acquisition in a handy side room, when another explosion rocked the place.
They met each other's eyes; Ronon was smiling widely, and John realized that he was too. "I guess maybe McKay got fed up of waiting for us," he said.
They ran back towards the sounds of the explosion. Ronon jumped the stairs, and John followed, adrenalin and fear pushing him hard.
"One floor?"
"Search this and then down one."
"We could search faster if we took one each," Ronon suggested.
John hesitated then nodded. They could both take care of themselves. McKay -- Rodney could too. Mostly.
He opened the door on the next floor and called a quiet "good luck" to Ronon as he vaulted down to the next flight of stairs. "Check-in in ten minutes."
"You worry too much," Ronon said over the radio, and John went through the door unaccountably cheered.
"I think he was on this floor," he said casually over the radio, and waved his hand in front of his face. The smoke was almost impenetrable and had a strong smell of ammonia.
He edged through the smoke noiselessly, keeping to the walls. He nearly tripped over a body, and crouched for a second to check it wasn't McKay. The man was blue in the face, and John touched a hand to his throat. Damn. At least one on their account then.
"McKay?" he called softly, then coughed, the strong chemical smell getting to him. What the hell had Rodney done?
Someone stumbled up out of the smoke and he stepped back. The body shape was all wrong, too thin, too short even hunched over and coughing helplessly. He let them go past unhindered and pressed on, holding his sleeve over his mouth to try and cut the noxious atmosphere.
Another body on the ground, in the uniform of the armsmen who'd been chasing them earlier. Alive this time. He dragged the body to a door back a couple of yards, and shoved the man inside. The air was clearer, and he breathed in deep. He dug in his pocket and pulled out the strip of pillow slip, streaked and gory looking and tied it over mouth and nose. It might help some.
He slid out again and kept going, checking bodies as he found them, moving as swiftly as he could in the murky corridors.
"Rodney," he called, over and again, less and less sanguine about locating his lover with every step.
Static sounded in his ear, and he put his hand up. "Ronon?"
"--ppard, got -- " static crawled all over the transmission, and he couldn't make anything out.
"Say again, Ronon. You're breaking up. Please repeat."
Another burst of static, and then "--clear. Coming--" and gone again. He let go of the ear piece when nothing further came despite his repeated requests for Ronon to repeat. "Shit."
Back? Or keep going? Maybe 'clear' meant that the floor below was clear. If there was no smoke there Ronon could have made much better time, and be done already. So was he coming up after John? Or was something else going on?
He took another step and collided with someone coming the other way. He found an arm, twisted and drove the blocky attacker into the wall.
The man grunted, and John hissed. "Shut up! Not a word."
"Right, fine, first you leave me to --" the man paused to cough "-- rescue myself, and then you beat me up when I'm nearly dead from breathing in all this crud." A hand flailed and John let it, dropping his grip and turning the man around and pinning him to the wall with his body.
"Jesus."
"No, Colonel--" Rodney grunted as John kissed him, a quick hard press of mouths together, and pulled back.
"What the hell, McKay?" he hissed sharply. "You do not, ever, dump Ronon and go off by yourself."
He kissed him again, his hands running rapidly over Rodney's body, looking for any injuries.
"I'll -- mmph -- admit that I might, perhaps, have been more trusting than I should, but John, listen." He pushed Sheppard back. "We have to get out of here."
John glared at him, "Now you want to get out?"
"Oh, like you thought they were bad guys!"
"Not until you vanished and they told us they were going to trade you offworld as a slave."
"Really?" Rodney sounded interested and John rolled his eyes.
"More or less."
"What does that mean?" John turned and, one hand wrapped in the front of Rodney's tac vest, dragged him back towards the stairwell.
"Do you even know where you're going?" Rodney asked.
"We're meeting Ronon and then we're getting the hell out of here," John said sharply. "Now move it."
"Anyone would think you weren't pleased to see me."
"Rodney, not the time--"
"Okay, okay. I just --"
"Jesus." He pulled Rodney into the stairwell, checked it swiftly and found Ronon coming up the stairs towards them.
"Found him, huh?" Ronon said. "Found something else. Come on." He headed back down and John followed.
"Wait, wait, have they got a Wraith down there?" Rodney said urgently, and they both stopped, looking back at him.
"Wraith?" John said. Like this entire thing wasn't bad enough. Wraith too?
"They trade with Wraith, Colonel."
"We know," Ronon said grimly. "They traded Sateda to the Wraith. They'll deal with anything, if the price is right."
"They did -- " Rodney's jaw dropped. "Ronon, I--"
"Never mind," he dismissed. "No Wraith down there, but do you think there are some here?"
"They're building a Hive ship. With an intergalactic drive," he said looking between them. "We have to stop them!"
John nodded. "Where is it?" he asked tersely.
"I don't know exactly, but I'd bet it's something to do with those readings I was getting earlier. And," he added thoughtfully, "I'd bet that the power source I couldn't identify is some sort of hybrid Wraith/Ancient generator, which would explain why it didn't make sense on the scanner. Oh. I wonder--"
"Doesn't explain why it didn't get picked up by the MALP," John said grimly. "We need to change that."
"Yes, yes, but first, stop the Wraith getting the first step to culling Earth?"
"How?"
Rodney grinned. "I have a couple of ideas about that. They wanted me to help them out. Maybe I should take them up on that offer."
"They'll test it and find out."
"Yes, but we won't be here, with any luck. We just need to find the guy who took me, and sort something out."
"You want us to go back in there?"
Rodney nodded.
"And trade with people who are working with the Wraith? Am I the only one who thinks that is a really fucking bad idea?" John exploded.
Rodney blinked. "Or we could just leave," he offered tentatively.
"Yes. Let's do that. Except we haven't got Teyla," John snapped, and Rodney looked aghast.
"Where is she? You left her on her own with those--"
"Are you going to tell Teyla that we should have stayed and looked after her? She's the one negotiating for your life right now. You're the one who need rescuing."
"Hey, I rescued myself, thank you very much!" Rodney protested, and Ronon's hand went over his mouth.
"Shut up, both of you. You're wasting time." He turned Rodney and said," Are you going to listen?" Rodney nodded, wide eyed. Ronon removed his hand and Rodney stepped back.
"Did you give them any information," John asked quickly. Rodney shook his head.
"I don't think so," he said. "I was unconscious for a while --" John's eyes went to his head, remembering the bloodstains on the sheets back in that room.
"I'm fine!" Rodney said impatiently. Ronon frowned behind him. "Got a lump here," he said, poking lightly at the back of Rodney's skull.
"Ow! I do? Oh my god, those heathens hit me. And stop poking me," he rounded on Ronon, who pulled his hands away.
"Looks pretty minor to me," he said, mostly to John, who felt a knot of anxiety loosen. At least Rodney wasn't badly hurt. And John had him back.
"Minor?!" Rodney protested, and John turned him around, immediately seeing the matted patch of hair.
"It didn't bother you before, so I'd say it's pretty, minor, yeah," he agreed with Ronon, but brushed a gentle hand over the bump, just in case. He let his hand slide down to Rodney's neck and tugged him close, pressing his face to Rodney's neck and taking a second, just a couple of seconds, to breathe in his relief. "You're fine. Okay?" His grip tightened, and Rodney leaned into him.
"Okay."
"We need to move," Ronon said.
John smiled into Rodney's neck, and straightened up. "Let's go."
Teyla shook her head. "I cannot agree final terms until I have spoken to the rest of my team." The sun was low in the sky, and they were rapidly heading into the last hour or so before their check-in. They needed to get back up to the Ring, which would take time in itself. Perhaps it would be as well if they missed the check-in.
Colonel Carter had had the final word over the argument whether or not to come here. Teyla glanced at the windows set high in the negotiation hall, and sighed. A jumper could get in, but it would be stuck here until the Apollo arrived. The cave that the Ring was set against was deep enough for three or four people to stand in and avoid the backwash, but not anything bigger. There was a way, she'd used it herself, but when going through with goods, the Canlaon always sent the people through first, and the goods after, unobserved by anyone. She'd never seen it, and of course, despite Ronon's --now proven justified -- reservations about trading with the Canlaon she'd been sure that it would not matter. They could get back through the Ring themselves, and would not need a Jumper. She might have been living this down for months, except that they had all made mistakes as bad, over the years.
"Your 'team' are making themselves very difficult," Fierb said, his mouth pinched and sour looking. The geniality had worn off long since.
Teyla put on a sympathetic look, "Really? How ...annoying." She quelled her sudden urge to smile broadly. "Have you not been able to contact any of them?"
"There appears to be some difficulty communicating with the House of Knowledge." His teeth were gritted, and she did feel some sympathy for him, but on the whole, she preferred being on this side of her team's efforts.
"Oh," she reached over and helped herself to a slice of nut bread and slathered it with sweet vecris preserves. "Oh, I do like this. It's always one of my best memories about trading here."
"Please, have some more," Fierb said magnanimously, some tension easing about his eyes. "Perhaps we can include some as a sweetener for the Deal, for an early conclusion." He looked almost hopeful.
"Oh." Teyla licked at her fingers and contemplated another slice of the nut bread. She probably shouldn't. Even if it was delicious. "Did you find out what that earthquake was, earlier?" she asked as though she'd just thought of it, and Fierb's face pinched up even tighter. Oh dear. It had been Rodney, then, she thought happily, and took another slice after all.
They made their way back the way they had come. The House of Knowledge was in total disarray and those people who saw them seemed much more interested in getting out of the way than accosting them and demanding reparations.
"Wow," Rodney said as they entered the great hall that John had mentioned with all the science-traders. "You really did a number on this place -- oh my god, look at those!" He dived for crystals scattered all over the floor. John, who had been feeling quite pleased with himself winced. "What heathen did this!" Rodney wailed, picking up crystal after crystal, "Broken! Look!" He thrust the clouded crystal up at John.
"Now's not the time, Rodney," John said briskly.
Rodney looked narrowly up at him. "What do you mean now's not -- you've got your guilty face on! Did you do this?"
"It could have been your explosion," John said quickly, and took a step or two backwards. Casually.
Ronon leaned over, orientated himself within the hall, and patted John on the shoulder. "Nah, it was you when you pushed them all over and took out those two guys. It was great." He grinned at Rodney who seemed likely to explode.
"Thanks, buddy," John said to Ronon.
"No problem," Ronon smirked at him.
"Rodney, we really ought to be going!" People were starting to stop running away. It wouldn't be long before someone came back, and that could only lead to trouble. More trouble, he corrected, watching Rodney paw through the crystals.
"Wait, there might be some --"
"Now, Rodney!"
Rodney scowled and got to his feet. "I'm not going to forget this, Colonel."
"Be glad you're around to remember," Ronon said tersely. "Duck!"
Rodney dropped to the ground as bright blue light passed straight through where he'd been standing. Ronon fired back and a crash and scream suggested that he'd caught not only the attacker but possibly valuable merchandise. His team did the best collateral damage. They waited tensely for a half minute or so, but no further shots followed.
"Good shot," he said to Ronon, who looked vaguely offended: all his shots were good.
"Uh. Thanks," Rodney muttered, as Ronon pulled him to his feet.
"Welcome."
"Look, I'm pretty sure this is a control crystal for an Ancient hyperdrive--" Rodney said urgently, and John snapped his attention back to him.
"What?"
"They've got an FTL hyperdrive somewhere here, John."
"But not working, right?"
"Well, no, not when I saw it--"
"You saw it?" John grabbed his shoulders, "You didn't mention you'd seen it."
"On the way down here. I'm sure I mentioned that."
"No, Rodney. You didn't."
"Oh. Um. Wraith/Ancient hybrid power source?"
"Yes?"
"Probably powering the ship they're building."
John considered giving in to his urge to swat Rodney upside the head, and remembered the existing injury at the last moment. His hands flexed open and shut a couple of times. "There are times, McKay..." Rodney took a precautionary step back.
"I can find it!"
"You sure?"
"This is me, not you, Colonel. I can find my way out of a paper bag. Unlike some people."
"His point," Ronon observed. "We should move."
Rodney jammed the crystal into a pocket and swiftly picked up another three, picking them out of the mess. "Some people," he muttered.
"Hyperdrive!"
"This way," he said, and headed confidently to the back of the hall.
"We didn't come in this way, did we?" John said quietly to Ronon as they wove their way down the crowded aisles between the stands.
"Nope." He nodded to another corner "Over there. And we went out back there." He jerked a thumb over his shoulder, and John tried to line the room up with what he remembered. "Wasn't there someone with an SGC computer back by the door we came in?"
"Where?" Rodney turned swiftly.
"I thought you had a computer of your own?"
"Yes, but we've been hemorrhaging the damn things. Practically every time a mission goes bad they're the first thing to get abandoned, and retrieving a few of them might be a nice bonus to this really, really shitty day I've been having."
"But the -- "
"Hyperdrive, yes. I'll get the hyperdrive, you get the computer. There's another one attached to the Wraith drive anyway. If you get the one you saw that would be useful."
He paused and flapped his hands. "Well, go on then."
"We're not splitting up." John said definitely.
"Oh please. I've already rescued myself once today. I'm pretty sure that Ronon is perfectly capable of stopping off and picking me up a nice laptop, oh, and hey if they have any spare batteries -- they wiped the charge on mine -- that would be good.."
"Rodney!"
"It's important, John." He looked like he meant it too. Damn. He looked over at Ronon who shrugged. "Where's the hyperdrive unit, McKay?"
"In a secondary hall down two flights of stairs from the main entrance. It should be about fifteen minutes that way," he said. Ronon nodded. "Oh, um, you might need something to barter." He pulled the crystals out of his pockets and shuffled through them unhappily. "Well. That's the one we need the least, I guess," he said dismally, and slapped one into Ronon's waiting hand. "Try not to spend too much."
"Try not to get captured," he said, and jogged off into the depths of the hall.
"I do not believe you just sent Ronon off for a shopping trip."
"We need that computer, John."
"You said, but -- " He gestured at the devastation, mostly courtesy of their running battle with the Canlaon law enforcement.
"You're right. I bet Ronon gets a really good price." Rodney strained to look back across the hall. "Maybe we should all have gone--"
"Hyperdrive, Rodney. Focus. You can turn Ronon into your personal shopper some other day when we're not fighting for our lives and trying to stop the Wraith reaching Earth." John figured that the easiest thing was to get out. He could scream once they were all safely home. Also, discuss prioritizing on missions and while in combat situations with both Rodney -- which didn't surprise him because it wasn't a normal month if they didn't end up having that talk-- and Ronon -- which did surprise him, because usually Ronon was very goal orientated with regard to blowing the crap out of the other side.
"Oh. Right. This way."
Her radio clicked in her ear, and then clicked twice more.
"I think I need a break," she said. "If you would excuse me?"
"Of course," Fierb said. "We could break for the night if you prefer, pick this up tomorrow?"
Fierb looked almost anxious. Teyla shook her head, instincts warning her not to take this as the sign of weakness that it seemed.
"Thank you, I expect my team will be back shortly."
"Oh?" Fierb's gaze flickered to her headset, and she carefully kept her face expressionless.
"Indeed," she said, and rose to her feet. "Perhaps a short break to refresh ourselves?"
"That sounds like an excellent idea," Fierb agreed, his face brightening, and she wondered what he thought he was going to be able to do in the next half hour that he had not managed in the previous three. "Shall we reconvene here?"
"Unless you wish to move the negotiations somewhere else?"
There was a long pause, and Fierb said, a little too late to be casual, "We could take this to the House of Knowledge. We would be able to meet your friends there."
Ahh. They hoped to trade off a breakout with a hostage. "No, thank you," she smiled. "Colonel Sheppard asked me to stay in the House of the Exterior until the negotiations were concluded, or he -- and Doctor McKay and Specialist Dex -- all returned."
"Very well," Fierb said wearily. "Please, avail yourself of our hospitality as long as you wish."
"Thank you, old friend, I appreciate your generosity," Teyla smiled.
Out of the negotiating hall she swiftly found the relief rooms and made use of them, then tapped cautiously on the radio, the water still running loud in the background.
"Colonel?" she whispered.
"Teyla, good to hear you. We were getting a little worried when you missed your check-in."
"Major Lorne, I am most pleased to hear your voice," she whispered. "Where are you?"
"On the way down to the city with a couple of Jumpers of Marines, ma'am," he said cheerfully. "Where are you?"
"But how will you return to Atlantis, the cave is too small to --"
"Don't worry about that. Doctor Zelenka has a couple of ideas about how to get a Jumper back out of that Gate, even with the tight quarters, and the Apollo can be here in less than a day if it has to." Lorne paused then added, "What about the rest of your team?"
"I'm -- not sure where they are. Doctor McKay was, we think, kidnapped, and Ronon and Colonel Sheppard went to find him."
"You think he was kidnapped?"
"He may have gone of his own accord," Teyla said with a sigh, and Lorne chuckled.
"Situation normal then, ma'am?"
"Oh yes," Teyla agreed. "Although I believe you may be able to track Doctor McKay's progress by the falling buildings."
"Falling. Buildings." Lorne sounded amused.
"There have been at least two large explosions in the past hour or so. I believe that the Canlaon were not expecting them," she said blandly.
"Nobody expects Doctor McKay," Lorne said. "Are you okay for now?"
"Yes, but your presence, perhaps outside the walls, could prove most helpful."
"Roger that. Let us know if you need us in a hurry."
"I shall do so, Major. This is not secured, so -- "
"Understood. Standard extraction plan 4R then," Lorne said.
"Agreed."
"Lorne out."
Teyla rested her head against the cool tile wall for a second, then straightened up. An unexpected resource, though not as secret as she might hope. Still, the channel was encrypted. Even if she and Lorne were eavesdropped on, Fierb's men should only be able to get her side of the conversation in the clear. She had revealed the presence of another player in the game, but, she rather thought, this might not necessarily prove a mistake.
She straightened up. No. Played well, this could turn out for the best.
"Here," Rodney edged up to the corner, and peered around, then ducked back. "Yes, that's it."
"You sure?"
"I'm sure," Rodney said.
"Because the last three times you've said that, it was something else entirely."
"No, no, no, this time I'm sure." He turned and looked seriously up at John. "I recognize the corridor."
John rolled his eyes, and took point. "Watch my back, okay?"
"Got it." Rodney crept slowly behind John, watching the rear, John's Beretta in his hand. John stopped, and turned his head.
"Rodney?"
"Yes?"
"My back, not my ass."
"I know what to watch, Colonel." Rodney sniffed, keeping his eyes on the corridor. "You aren't that irresistible."
"Aw, but Rodney," John whined ,and Rodney couldn't help grinning.
"Down, boy," he murmured, and heard John chuckle under his breath.
"Oh hey, look at that," John said a moment later, and Rodney felt a tug on his shoulder.
He leaned against John's back to peer through the open door. "Yeah. That's it," he said softly. The hall wasn't quite as big as the one they'd left Ronon in, but it came damn close. The Aurora probably wouldn't have fitted in there, but the Daedalus would, easily.
"Okay, that's kinda big," John murmured.
"Size queen," Rodney muttered, but without any real force. John wasn't wrong about the size of the engines in there. Not even a whole ship. Just the engines. "I told you I'd know it when I saw it."
"I'd be surprised if you didn't," John admitted. "Damn."
"And they're building it for the Wraith to go munch on Jeannie," Rodney felt a little sick at the idea.
"Just on Jeannie," John stopped and cocked an eyebrow at him.
"Well, not specifically. But the general effect would be the same," he conceded. "And the rest of the planet, too," he added when John didn't stop eyeballing him. "All right, all right. Stop it."
"Stop that," John nodded at the giant engines. "Are those really going to get them to the Milky Way?"
"Not if I can help it," Rodney said grimly. He wrapped his hand around John's wrist. "Be careful."
John nodded, his eyes softening for second. "Keep your head down and don't get killed."
"Deal," Rodney said, wryly. "You deal with that lot, I'll deal with this," he said, and headed down the steps towards the diagnostics station. John followed him slowly, taking up a position on top of the engine.
Fortunately for John, the engine wasn't powered up, which meant Rodney couldn’t take the easy option of throwing a literal spanner in the works. Powering it up would certainly attract the sort of attention that John would disapprove of. Not to mention frying Sheppard.
Which meant doing something drastic to the programming instead. In the long run, probably a better idea anyway. He took a look at the diagnostics board and smiled broadly. They had another SGC computer wired into the damn thing. Bunch of idiots.
He tried out the keyboard, but it insisted on a password. "Oh, I don't think so," he muttered, and accessed the back door that every SGC computer that passed through his hands acquired. "That's better. Now, what've we got here?"
Sheppard was starting to worry about Ronon -- not much, just a little -- still carefully watching both Rodney's back and the entrances into the hall. No one came -- perhaps the mayhem in the great hall had convinced everyone that the better part of valor was getting the fuck out.
He checked his watch. Two hours past check-in. With any luck reinforcements were on their way. Teyla was still holding off the worst of Fierb's people -- he was pretty sure the use of the Wraith stunners meant that the Canlaon hadn't yet written off any chances of dealing with his team.
Rodney was safe, if a little battered -- and he ignored the impulse to look round, double check on him. Just Ronon to account for. He turned his head abruptly at the sound of running feet. He knew that pace.
He lined up on the door and waited. Seconds later Ronon swung through, and ran down the steps two and three at a time, looking enormously pleased with himself.
"Got it?"
"Got them," Ronon smirked at Rodney, who squeaked at the slap Ronon laid on his back, but made no other protest, instead jerking his own laptop off his back, and ramming in one of the battery packs Ronon had brought.
"I could kiss you!" he said joyfully, "But I won't," he added hastily, and Ronon flashed a quick smile up at John.
"Just as well," he agreed. "You killed it yet?"
"Nope, but with this, my friend, we're going to have ourselves a Wraith barbeque, friends invited," He beamed up at Ronon and then turned his smile on John, who shifted uncomfortably.
"Cool." Ronon leaned in, "What's that for?"
"Leave it be!" Rodney snapped. "And don't touch that either! Look, just go and sit next to Sheppard and be manly or something, okay?" Ronon slapped him on the back again, and swung himself up to perch on the engine casing next to John.
"You okay?" John asked, just in case. Ronon just looked at him. "Okay. Just thought I'd check."
Ronon grunted.
"Done!" Rodney grinned up at both of them. "Well, come on, let's get out of here."
"It didn't blow up."
"Yet, my friend. It didn't blow up yet, which I would've thought you'd be grateful for considering you're sitting on the damn thing."
"It's not the only one," John reminded him.
"Oh, wow, is it, I didn't notice, what with the giant engine standing right in front of me and everything." He laughed a little grimly. "They didn't fix the backdoors on their stolen SGC laptops, and you know what, I'm going to let them keep these ones."
"You're so generous, Rodney," John said, a slow smile burning onto his face.
"All heart," Rodney agreed. "Now, we really probably shouldn't be here when they fire these up."
"Rodney, just how big an explosion are we talking?"
"Take out the damn planet," Ronon said eagerly.
"Not that big."
"Take out the engines?" John said hopefully.
"Not that small. I think we're a fair distance outside the town walls here, so it shouldn't kill everyone in Canlaon."
"Shouldn't?" John lifted an eyebrow.
"Well, I wouldn't want to hang about here to find out," Rodney said, swiftly packing up. "Talking of which?"
"Yes. I don't like this place. Let's pick up Teyla and go home."
"Agreed."
A commotion outside the negotiating hall caught Teyla's attention. She kept her eyes on Fierb, who didn't by so much as a flicker show that he heard or saw anything untoward. An armsman came up from the door behind Teyla -- it made her back itch, having it to the door, but no matter -- and whispered into Fierb's ear.
He nodded once, and the armsman retreated. "Teyla, I believe that we may be able to come to an agreement," he smiled broadly at her.
"Oh?" She arched an eyebrow at him.
"I believe I have one of your conditions met."
"Hey! Get your hands off me, jackass! You're going to regret this so much, you don't even know!"
Teyla smiled at the table, and turned. "Rodney, you are well."
"I'd be better," he was allowed to wrench himself away from the armsmen holding him, and hurried over to her, "if those testosterone soaked pea brains hadn't decided to drag me halfway across the city."
"Truly?" She frowned at Fierb, who glared portentously at the offending armsmen.
"I shall discuss their techniques for crowd control very firmly," he said. "Please, Doctor McKay, accept my apologies for such rough handling, and do take a seat."
"I am not a crowd," Rodney grumbled, but took the seat offered to him.
"Rodney," Teyla said under her breath, "where are Ronon and Colonel Sheppard?"
He bounced slightly in his seat, "Let me take it from here, Teyla."
"Rodney?" she said, very doubtfully.
"Trust me! Or, okay, we have a plan. Just follow my lead."
"Very well."
Rodney sat up straight, his smuggest look in full force. Fierb looked worried. Teyla could relate.
"Okay, Fibble, here's the deal. We know what you want, and we'll let you have it, and in return we're going to leave here with everything we currently have in our possession, and we'll never come back. How's that sound?"
"Unusual," Fierb said, a faint smile pulling at his mouth. "Doctor McKay, perhaps you should leave negotiations to Teyla Emmagan. She is exceptionally skilled." He nodded to her, and she felt a pleasant glow of accomplishment. She might not like anything about the Canlaon or this place any more, but that did not negate the value of the compliment. Indeed, it raised its value further, that she had so impressed them when so very anxious about her teammates.
"No, Fierb," she stilled his protests with a slightly raised hand. "Doctor McKay has my fullest confidence." He turned and smiled blindingly at her.
"Thank you." He cleared his throat. "Let's not waste time," he said. "You are building intergalactic hyperdrive engines for the Wraith, that they may prey on my native galaxy. You want the co-ordinates, and the schematics of a faster than light drive."
Fierb's eyebrows twitched.
"I will not give you the co-ordinates of my home galaxy -- what do you think I am? Anyway, never mind that. I can give you the galactic location of another inhabited galaxy, which may be to the Wraith's taste."
"Rodney!" Teyla stared, horrified. "You cannot condemn an entire galaxy to the scourge of the Wraith. Your name will be cursed for a thousand generations!"
"But not here, and not back home, Teyla," Rodney said fiercely. "That's what matters. Trust me."
"But--"
"John and Ronon agree. It's the only way."
Teyla shook her head but said nothing more.
Fierb shook his head. "And how will we know that you are not tricking us in some fashion?"
"You don't," Rodney said. He reached over and poured himself a glass of vecris, "May I?" He took a sip. "I could be lying. I could be about to destroy this town and everyone in it. I might be on the verge of blowing up your stardrives. Or I might be telling the truth. If I'm telling the truth, you've gained immensely, and we've got the things that interest us. If not," he shrugged. "You lose nothing."
"And what do you want?"
"The seed stock Teyla negotiated for; the fabrics and metals." He threw a smile at Teyla. "And a bottle of selath oil. A big one, mind."
Fierb swallowed, once, twice. "You want to barter away this information for what we would have traded medicines and trinkets for?"
Rodney nodded. "We don't like you. We don’t want to trade with you, but you have things we need. All I want is to go home," and he looked tired, Teyla realized. There was a knot on the back of his head, bloody and matted, and he smelled terrible.
"Where is this galaxy?" Fierb said cautiously, and Teyla bit her lip.
Rodney smiled, apparently knowing as well as she that the trade was all but sealed.
"Celestis. I'll show your scientists. Oh. And I'd strongly recommend you test your engines out of atmosphere. The energy they convert when they work at full power could destroy a planet."
Fierb nodded, once. "Done."
Teyla leaned forward, a hand on Rodney's under the table. "And done. Sealed by Atlantis." She held out her free hand. And Fierb placed his into it, palm down.
"Sealed by Canlaon," he said, and they both stood.
Teyla shuddered with relief as she walked out of the hall.
"We feared for you, Rodney," she murmured, and tightened her grip on his hand.
"I'm fine," he whispered back, noisily, and she smiled.
"I am glad." She turned and pulled him down to brush her forehead against his, mind to mind. "I imagine Colonel Sheppard is also glad." They walked on after a moment's quiet.
"Not so's you'd notice," he grumbled, and rubbed at his wrist, but he was smiling, and she bumped into his side, and he bumped her back.
"The Marines are here," she said a few minutes later, as they waited for Canlaon to fulfill their side of the Deal.
Rodney grunted. "Sheppard thought so. We're probably going to need the Apollo to get them out of here, of course."
"We could wait."
"We really don't want to be here any longer than we have to," he said.
"What have you done, Rodney?" she asked quietly, fear in her heart.
"Nothing -- if they pay attention to the instructions."
"And if they do not?"
"Then the hyperdrives will explode as they reach the trans-light zone. It's not entirely precise," he looked unhappy, "mostly because once you reach fractions of c weird stuff starts happening and it's more probabilistic than mechanistic, but. Mmm. Within point zero five of c, plus or minus. Boom."
"What if they try the engines on planet?" she said warily.
"I really hope they don't do that," he said, and his face was bleak. "I've warned them in the strongest terms not to do that."
"But they have no means to make orbit to test outside of atmosphere!"
"Oh, don't they?" He shook his head. "They've been working on Wraith Hive ships for generations, at a guess. I'd bet they've hived off a little for themselves, as it were."
Teyla couldn't believe her ears. "They --"
"I saw it, Teyla. Me and John and Ronon. They're outside with the Marines, just in case Fierb changes his mind and decides to keep me after all."
"You cannot kill them all, Rodney. They are not all guilty. And not everyone on this planet is in this town."
Rodney nodded. "I know. But, Teyla, they've all profited. I shouldn't think there's a person here over the age of fourteen who doesn’t have a very good idea of what is going on. They've kept back technology and medicine, they've bargained for the safety of their world and made advances so that the Wraith could better cull others."
"They trade with anybody," she said, almost to herself. "Anybody."
"Yes."
The first cart was full, and the carters were roping down the boxes and barrels on the second.
"Hi! Hi! Heya!" The first cart slowly groaned its way out of the great wooden gates, the carter slapping his reins against the oxen to encourage them. Teyla waited silently with Rodney. They would follow behind the second cart.
Fierb approached, one hand outstretched. "Doctor McKay! Teyla, my dear."
"The scientists are satisfied, then," Teyla said, when Rodney remained silent.
"Very satisfied. I'm surprised you haven't heard their howls from here," he said, smiling broadly.
"Good."
"Tell them -- tell them to be careful," Rodney said abruptly. "They must not try this in a planetary atmosphere. It runs the risk of igniting the atmosphere or even blowing half the planet apart. It's nothing to fool around with."
"I will tell them," Fierb promised. "I have told them, and they understand. Oh, this is a wonderful day, I cannot express what we owe you. If you ever return, we will give you the same over again, twice over."
"This is plenty," Rodney said. "Just get them to our transportation sites, and we'll do the rest."
Fierb nodded, and then touched his forehead to Teyla's, shook Rodney's hand, "This is how you people do it, yes? Good. Good."
Up on the hillside, the Gate had been turned around.
"It is on a pivot," Zelenka said excitedly, "See, very clever. A little tricky to keep the wires untangled, yes. Perhaps if we set it up as wireless, they could do it even remotely."
"We're not coming back, Radek," John said softly. Zelenka looked bewildered as Rodney walked straight past him. John followed Rodney and they stood close together in the shadow of the puddlejumper as the Marines loaded everything up from the carts.
"Radek," Teyla said, turning a bottle of some dark, slow moving liquid over in her hands, "What does it mean, 'thirty pieces of silver'?"
Radek stopped and stared at her, at the carts, at McKay huddled into Sheppard. "A price too high, Teyla. A price too high."
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