In reflection, John wouldn’t be able to tell you what they’d been arguing about (he wouldn’t say bickering. Bickering was for old married people; he and Rodney were just having rather large amounts of adrenaline induced sex). If pressed, he’d say the topic had probably been the Wormhole X-Treme movie (which he hadn’t even liked all that much, but it had an incredible half-life when it came to winding Rodney up).
He and Rodney had been taking the long way to the mess when they overheard the real arguing coming from Botany Storage Room #3. John paused, curious (gossip was more valuable than anything short of high quality chocolate in Atlantis; he’d be a fool to waste such a good opportunity). Rodney had grumbled, but stopped as well.
It turned out to be Lorne and one of the botanists (John was pretty sure his last name was Parrish, but for all he knew the guy’s first name was “Doctor” – The only ones he actually knew by first name were the engineers. Well, and Katie Brown, but that was different). They were actively discussing something to do with Ancient technology, and Parrish sounded freaked out. Taking a risk that they weren’t in a compromising situation (John listened to the grapevine enough to know it wasn’t impossible. However, in his experience you didn’t get freaked out over Ancient tech and stay in the mood), and anything involving Ancient tech always turned out interesting in one way or another. John knocked on the door lightly. “Is there a problem?”
The door slid open and revealed the two in question standing in the far corner next to a lab table. Well, Lorne was crouched next to the lab table (were lab tables supposed to have blinking lights on top?); Parrish was giving it a solid ten foot berth.
The two exchanged a troubled glance, followed by Lorne standing up and turning to face his CO. “Er. Possibly, Sir.”
John raised an eyebrow. “Care to elaborate?”
Lorne gestured to the blinking lab table. “It started blinking, sir.”
Rodney, who had been ignoring them all and waiting impatiently in the hallway, perked up at the mention of blinking and poked his head in. “Blinking? What started blinking? What did you touch?”
Parrish pointed mutely at the lab table, indicating a console on the side that John hadn’t noticed. Rodney walked over immediately and started taking readings. After a moment he looked up at Lorne. “You. Come here; place your hand here.” Lorne looked wary, but complied. A moment later, the display on the console changed. Rodney crouched down and began poking at various buttons; a moment later a display popped up – A list of Ancient that scrolled by too quickly to actually read. He tapped something else and the list paused. “That’s weird.”
John crouched down next to him. “What’s weird?”
“It’s a listing of genetic characteristics – Eye color, hair color, approximate adult height, gender. It must be some kind of DNA scanner, because it’s describing the major over there. Well, aside from the height, it’s a good fifteen centimeters off on that one.” He looked up at Lorne. “Were you malnourished as a child?”
Lorne blinked and looked indignant. “No!”
“Huh. How odd; it seems perfectly accurate aside from that.” He waved his hand in Lorne’s general direction. “Run along, nothing else for you to do at this point.”
Lorne looked relieved. Having seen enough to be convinced that it wasn’t going to blow up this portion of the city, John straightened up and cracked his back. “I take it I should bring dinner down?”
Rodney nodded, and then proceeded to attempt to wedge himself under the lab table. John turned to the two who were now quietly talking in the opposite corner next to a box of nutrient lines. “All right you two. Go grab some chow. You didn’t manage to break the city.”
They left looking vastly relieved, and he wondered what exactly they’d been doing when they turned on the lab table. After a moment’s thought, he decided it might be better not to know. John was about to follow their fine example and head for the mess when Rodney’s disembodied voice emerged from under the table. “John? I think you’re going to want to get Carson down here.” John really hoped that the strangled quality of the scientist’s voice was from the compression.
“Do I want to know why?”
“Just call him. There, um, could be a problem.”
“Wouldn’t it be easier to go down to the infirmary?”
Even half buried under a lab table, the ‘You really were dropped on your head as a child, weren’t you?’ quality came through perfectly. “No. Because we’re not the problem.” There was a pause. “You might want to get Parrish and Lorne back here, too.”
John made the calls without any further prompting. When he was done, he wandered over and kicked Rodney’s foot (the only part of the scientist that he could reach). “They’ll be here in five minutes. What’s the problem?”
“Well, I can’t be certain. I mean, this is all pure guess work; I won’t really know anything until Carson gets down here and – “
”Rodney.” John used the tone he normally reserved for things like emergency Puddle Jumper repair. Hey, it got results.
“All right, fine. They’re pregnant. Happy?”
Whatever John had expected, that hadn’t been it. “Um… Wait, what??”
Rodney pulled himself out from under the table. “Oh, you heard me. From what I can tell, they’ve stumbled on the Ancient version of a fertility clinic.”
At that moment, Carson came bursting into the room. “What’ve you lads done now?”
John held up his hands innocently. “This one? Totally not my fault.” For once, it was even true.
~ Finis ~
2008
Never Enough Time To Grieve
For Maire_x, who wanted to see Novak meeting Tom Lorne. 974 Words.- - - - - - - -
Much to the entire crew’s disappointment, the Daedalus was two days into an Earth-run when Tom Lorne was born. Oh, they were still within communication range, but it was almost crueler that way. The little boy who was the result of an accident in one of the botany storage labs had become the subject of massive amounts of interest, both in the city and on her associated warship.
As a result of this delay, and an unfortunate attack on Earth which had delayed them an additional two weeks, Lindsey Novak didn’t get a chance to meet Tom until he was just over two months old. At first glance, one wouldn’t have expected her to even be friends with either of the boy’s parents - The botanist or the major. She knew most of the Daedalus crew didn’t understand her fondness for the pair. It stemmed from her first few off-world missions in association with the expedition – She’d managed to land repeatedly on the major’s team, and her lack of general socialization had become apparent rather quickly. Claiming it was his responsibility to make her feel more comfortable around the other expedition members, the major had begun introducing her around – He dragged her to movie night, made her join him for meals when she ate in the city (that was how she’d first come to know Parrish), and coerced her into joining the Athosian Stick-Ball league when she was planet-side (she had spent weeks nursing bruises and regretting ever mentioning a background in softball. Not that stickball was anything like softball, but it had been enough motivation for him).
If she hadn’t learned early on that he was involved with Parrish (in a romantic sense, as opposed to the Major Lorne Crusade To Save Introverts From Themselves™), she would have thought he was hitting on her. Instead, his lack of interest simply put her at ease. By the end of her first year on the Daedalus, she’d taken to spending a good portion of her downtime hanging out with the two. She’d learned of the accident that had resulted in their son before most of the city, and helped the two in their preparations for accommodating the change in their lives a child would bring.
Lindsey was one of the first off the Daedalus once the ship had cleared its post-landing checks, hoping to catch either Nick or David in their quarters before they went on shift. It was nearing the end of Alpha Shift; at the least, she should catch Nick (assuming he wasn’t off-world). When his door opened after a long moment, she stifled a gasp. He looked exhausted; there were dark circles under his eyes, and he was thinner than she remembered. He blinked in surprise when he realized who it was.
“Lindsey. I, uh, hadn’t realized that the Daedalus was in.”
She nodded slowly, and spoke quietly. “Nick, what happened?”
He sighed, and it was a broken sound. Something was wrong, really wrong. He turned and walked over to the couch they’d managed to scrounge from one of the lounges in anticipation of the baby and sat down heavily, motioning her to join him. She did so. She opened her mouth to repeat her question, but instead hiccupped. She blushed, and he seemed to relax a little; a small smile crossed his features before they darkened again.
He took a deep breath, and then let it out slowly. “David’s dead, Lindsey. The funeral was three days ago”
She paled, her hand going to her mouth in shock. She shook her head. “No, no that can’t be right. We would have heard something. They would have told us if there had been casualties in the city.”
He made a helpless gesture. “It’s real, Lindsey. I… I wish to God it weren’t, but it is. He got nicked by some kind of poisonous thorn off-world, didn’t say anything, and by the time he collapsed in the infirmary it was too late to do anything.” His voice cracked on the last words, and she was reminded just how exhausted he had seemed when the door had opened. Before she could think about it too much, she pulled him into a hug. She knew him, and knew that he’d probably spent the last week playing the stoic.
Her suspicions were confirmed when he relaxed against her almost immediately. After a moment, she felt him shake against her shoulder, and realized that he was crying. She stroked his back, and murmured nonsense until he calmed; she would grieve later, there would be time. His breathing evened out, and she continued the slow movements of her hand until she was sure he was asleep. She was just shifting him to lie on the couch when a sound from the bedroom caught her attention. She rose and moved to investigate; her heart nearly stopped when she recognized the quiet snuffling sounds for what they were.
With a glance at the man sleeping on the couch, and understanding exactly how badly he needed the rest, she tentatively approached the crib in the corner of the bedroom. The window’s opacity was set to full, but as she leaned over she could make out the baby who was slowly waking. After a moment of debate, she took a deep breath and lifted the child into her arms, making quiet shushing noises. Her older sister had two young children and a loose interpretation of the boundaries of sibling obligation; she could handle this.
Luckily, Tom apparently got his temperament from the father who was currently sleeping in the living area; after a confused look, he seemed to decide she was good enough and settled contentedly against her chest. She carefully took a seat on the bed, using a pillow as a backrest, and quietly began the process of introducing herself.
~ Finis ~
The Costs of Reorganization
For Kheryn, who wanted SGC & something based on the quote:“those who decided to rotate back to the SGC after a tour in Atlantis and collapsed in seizures on their first home leave in three years”
416 Words.
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In November 2008, the first extended-tour platoons rotated back to Earth from Atlantis. There were four of them; every week that month a platoon returned to Earth with the data-burst. Length of stay in Atlantis had varied from two to three years, and most of them hadn’t been back to Earth since deployment. In addition, 50 % of them had the ATA gene – 2% were ‘naturals’ and another 48% were ‘artificials.’
The recall was part of a general reorganization the SGC was undergoing at the time; with two ZPMs, Atlantis was considered safe enough to lower the number of active military personnel in the city. Dr. Weir fought it, because things in the Pegasus Galaxy have a habit of changing drastically when you least expect it, but was unsuccessful. She would have settled for a simple 1-to-1 replacement, but SGC wouldn’t commit the manpower. No one ever believes you need troops until shit hits the fan; that hasn’t changed in thirty years.
Well, those marines – good men and women every one – they were thrilled to be heading back; most of them had families that they would be seeing for the first time in years. None of them wanted permanent re-assignment, but at least the move had benefits (those who had no family fought the move harder, and some resigned so as to remain on Lantea. You know that saying that close combat makes close friends? Amplify that by three years of disaster followed by disaster, with a hearty dash of mind numbing terror. By the end of the second year we might as well have been blood). Three weeks after the first platoon went through the Gate back to Earth, those very same marines began dying at an alarming rate of unexplained neurological damage.
The tragedy of it was, it took long enough for the data to start accumulating in SGC that the fourth and final platoon had already arrived on Earth before anyone realized that something was wrong. They didn’t think to consult Atlantis with these alarming death rates – The marines dying had already been officially reassigned to a range of locations and the ATA treatment was listed under a code-name on their medical records as an experimental vaccine for Avian Flu, no one connected the dots until months later. By then, exactly 48% of the marines who had returned to Earth in November, 2008 had died. Another 2% were listed as medically disabled due to severe and chronic migraines with accompanying nausea and disorientation.
~ Finis ~
2009
Lifer
For Kheryn, who wanted McKay, Sheppard, Lorne set sometimes after the ATA-S Syndrome is identified. 167 Words.- - - - - - - -
Sheppard looked up from the medical report, worry evident. McKay, who had been hovering behind him anxiously took that as his cue to speak. “We need to find a new Alpha Site. Probably several. As soon as possible.”
Sheppard nodded, and tapped his earpiece. ”Major Lorne, could you swing by my office for a minute? Thanks.” He looked up at McKay. “This is going to be a mess.”
McKay snorted. “Mess doesn’t begin to cover it. The data in these reports is atrocious; there’s no indication if length of exposure in Atlantis impacted speed of onset, deterioration after onset, anything. I mean, have they even looked into the possibility of a step-down program?”
There was a knock on the door. “Come in, Lorne.”
Lorne stepped into the small room. “Sir. Is everything all right?”
Sheppard sighed, and let his head thump against the wall he’d been leaning his chair against. “No, it’s not. And it probably never will be again. Congratulations, Lorne. You just became a lifer.”
~ Finis ~
2010
Re-Connect
McKay/Sheppard. 13,922 Words.Blurred
Lorne/Novak. 5,593 Words.Boots
For fred_god_of, who wanted Any Atlantis Pairing & Boots.- - - - - - - -
He doesn’t know when it became normal for there to be two sets of boots just inside the door again instead of one. It’s been, God, almost three years since David died.
He still misses him – misses the plants that used to spill off of the desk in the living room (he returned them to hydroponics when Tom started chewing on everything in sight; it was easier than trying to identify which varieties were poisonous), misses the late nights debating the merits of the Twins vs. the Red Sox (Japanese pitchers always win in his book), and he misses the coffee that was a quiet way of saying ‘I love you’ in the mornings.
He misses a lot of things about the way things were, but he thinks he’d miss the way things are, too. Leaning against the doorway, watching Lindsey sleep with his son curled up on her chest, he thinks it’s just possible that he’s moving on. Because she belongs here, in this room, just as much as he does. She has for some time, he’d just never realized it until tonight.
Who would have thought a simple pair of boots could tell him so much?
~ Finis ~
2011
Impossible Things
Lorne/Novak. 9,506 Words.2012
A Day in the Life of (a Very Troubled) John Sheppard
McKay/Sheppard. 1,470 Words.2013
Our Children’s Children
For fred_god_of, who wanted McKay/Sheppard’s Child meeting Ben Sheppard;For Skeddycat, who wanted to know if Ben ever returned to Atlantis.
Follows Re-Connect. 334 Words.
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The second time Ben Sheppard traveled to Atlantis was about as different as you could get from his first trip. For one thing, he was almost three years older. For another, this time he made the trip in a spaceship as opposed to by Stargate – This meant that it took a little under two weeks to make the journey instead of approximately three seconds. Not that Ben was complaining.
When John had appeared on his front porch the night of his retirement, it had seemed too good to be true. Ben knew that contact with Atlantis had officially been severed in January, 2011; he even knew that the expedition had been considering the idea for some time before it had happened. However, he was enough of a realist to know that he might very well be dead before relations with the city were re-established.
They had ended up in the kitchen over cups of strong black coffee (Ben hadn’t been foolish at the party, but he wanted to make sure that he remembered every detail of this, just in case John was gone in the morning). Ben had prepared himself to hear all kinds of things should his son ever resurface again. That he was now a grandfather hadn’t even made the list. That didn’t change the facts, apparently.
John was a father.
Ben could see the pride in his son’s eyes, and it caused an echo to warm his own heart. He had a granddaughter.
After that particular bit of information, the evening glossed over in his memory. John had asked him to come to Atlantis and meet her, and Ben hadn’t even needed to consider the offer. There was nothing left for him on Earth aside from an empty house and the occasional VA function. A few months in Atlantis would make no difference in his plans.
Two weeks later, he arrived in the City of the Ancients and met his young granddaughter, Morgan Sheppard. For the first time since his wife’s funeral, Ben Sheppard cried.
~ Finis ~
Meet the Novaks
Lorne/Novak. 3,500 Words.2015
The Cousins McKay
McKay/Sheppard. 1,937 Words.2020 & Beyond
Preface to the Memoirs of Gen. N. M. Lorne
There was a saying that was popular at the SGC when I served there:
Once you’ve gone through the ‘Gate, you can never go back.
It is disturbingly true; no one transfers out of the Stargate Program of their own free will. Most servicemen leave the program in body bags. This accounts for the fact that the program has remained a remarkably well-kept secret for as long as it has. The first words anyone learns upon transferring to any aspect of the program – Area 51, SGC, or Atlantis – is a variation on the theme of “What happens at the mountain, stays at the mountain.”
I have dedicated the last thirty years of my life to the Stargate Program, and they have been good years – first at the SGC and later in Atlantis. There are rumors that when (then) Colonel O’Neill was brought back into the Stargate Program, General Hammond asked him if he’d thought about writing memoirs. O’Neill is reputed to have said that he’d thought about it, but that he’d have to shoot anyone who read it because a large portion of his career up until that point had been classified. I don’t know if he ever followed up on the conversation or not. I find myself in a similar situation. Someday, the Stargate Program will be declassified and what I write may or may not be published. Regardless, I feel I have an obligation to leave a record of events as I have seen them.
I was not a member of the first Atlantis Expedition; I arrived on the USAF Daedalus following the expedition’s reconnection with Earth. All of us in the second wave were warned that there was a very real possibility Atlantis would be a one-way trip. Stories of life-sucking-aliens, a vindictively sentient city, and hostile natives were plentiful. We went out there fully expecting to end up on the wrong end of the city’s rumored AI. We ended up on the wrong side, all right, just not in a way anyone considered. The city loved those with the ATA gene, natural or artificial, and there were a lot of us. Everyone who shipped out for Atlantis received the gene therapy to allow interaction with Ancient technology; it took in just under 50% of us. The problem wasn’t that the city didn’t love us, it was that she loved us all too well.
When the world learns of Atlantis, they will learn of the brave explorers who risked their lives to establish the base there and befriend the natives. They will learn about the unspeakable enemy that so many of us gave our lives fighting against. They will learn about the mysterious and wonderful technology that was discovered. They will learn of the lives of brave volunteers lost to countless incidents whose details will never be remembered.
All of this is true. Every single expedition member faced hundreds of threats during their time in the city; we each surmounted innumerable odds to make it through a year alive, never mind five.
What they will not learn is that there were side-effects to living in the city, effects that we never could have imagined. They will not learn about those who rotated back to the SGC after a tour in Atlantis, only to collapse in seizures on their first home leave in three years. All because of a little chemical we now know as ATA-S, a result of using the Ancient technology, which had built up in their bloodstreams and then overloaded their nervous systems. They will not learn about the children born in Atlantis, who received the gene therapy in their first year of life as a protective measure, whose parents learned far too late that they would never be able to take their children ‘home’ to Earth. They will not learn of the children whose parents decided to take them to Earth anyway, attempting to counter the ATA-S build-up with experimental treatments; children who invariably died of rare neurological diseases and inoperable brain tumors.
Atlantis has been a blessing and a curse to those of us who have lived within her walls. She welcomed us with open arms, but she is an unforgiving mistress. The stories contained within these pages may seem fantastical, even impossible, but believe me when I say that they are only a small portion of all that we have seen and done in the Pegasus Galaxy.
Thomas, who has never known the grandfather he was named for
&
Beth, who has grown up in the shadow of her namesake.
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