Stargate Atlantis: Halcyon

by James Swallow

"Next time we'll call Pegasus 911 instead." Sheppard ignored the jibe and patched into the communications circuit. "Carson. Tell Lady Erony the crisis is over for now. Scar's gone and so is his boatload of buddies."

  "Did... Did we lose anyone?"

  "Teyla's in sickbay, but she'll heal."

  There was a moment of silence before Beckett spoke again. "Colonel, Lady Erony has asked me to inquire after Lord Daus."

  McKay picked up a headset. "Let me, uh, talk to her."

  "Rodney?" Erony's voice was brittle. "I am glad you... I am sorry for what happened to you. It was my fault, my carelessness with my words."

  "No," he shook his head. "It's all right. I... I'm sorry. Your father..."

  The bridge suddenly seemed confined and claustrophobic. "He is dead." The woman said the words flatly, any sentiment bled from them. A simple statement devoid of all weight and emotion.

  "I'm sorry," repeated Rodney. "His death saved the rest of us.

  When Erony spoke again, she was calm and proper, as befitted a high noble of the Fourth Dynast. "Thank you, Dr. McKay. In the absence of the Lord Magnate I must assume his duties for the interim. I will take my leave of you."

  "Erony?" But she was gone, the channel silent.

  The streets were lined with people as far as Elizabeth Weir could see. The queues snaked around the derelict dockside warehouses, out on to the main streets of the capital. Fuming omnibuses were halting every now and then to deposit more of them. She saw men and women of every age and ethnicity, children and teenagers. The only commonality they shared was the shabbiness of their clothes, the drawn look of a people who had grown used to being hungry all the time. The nineteenthcentury tone of the Halcyon capital was something new to Weir, a sight she'd only seen to date in history books and Victorian costume dramas; but the faces of the people were all too famil iar. She had seen that more times than she wanted, in Darfur and Kosovo, in Rwanda and Tikrit.

  But there was a kind of hope here as well. She could sense it in the air, a mixture of anticipation and a little fear for good measure. Halcyon's people seemed to understand that their world had changed a great deal in the last few days, and it made them excited and scared in equal measure.

  A huge poster across the flank of an elderly tenement building caught her eye. She could make out the remains of a massive artwork depicting the face of a portly, lordly man, but there were new leaves of heavy paper pasted over it. The jigsaw of pieces showed a young woman in regal finery, cupping a rifle in one hand and a basket of fruit in the other. But the new poster had been abandoned halfway through, and there were still ladders pressed up to the walls, as if they were waiting for the work to be completed.

  "She made them stop," said Carson as he emerged from near the head of the line. "Apparently, when one of the reigning nobles dies, the first thing they do is paint over all the murals of the last fella." He shook his head. "Erony told them that her father's memory wasn't something they should just forget."

  Weir nodded. "That's not an easy road to follow, especially after what took place under his leadership. She's taking responsibility for it, and that's a sign of a good ruler."

  "Aye," agreed the doctor. "I've already heard talk that she's going to announce elections in the coming year. Democracy instead of monarchy. The nobles are going to have a very steep learning curve."

  Elizabeth smiled. "And to think I just expected you to come back with some new diplomatic and trading contacts. Instead, you've sparked off a cultural revolution that will change life on this planet forever."

  "It would have happened sooner or later," he noted, "people won't stand for tyranny forever. Hopefully this way there's been a lot less bloodletting."

  "And at least we've made ourselves another ally in the Pegasus Galaxy. After all our recent troubles, I think we were due for a win, don't you?"

  "Aye, but a ZPM would nae have gone amiss too. Shame about the dolmen. Rodney fair hit the roof when he heard that John had been forced to blow it up."

  "Dr. Zelenka calculated that the energy release from the dolmen would have left it nearly dead by now, anyway." Weir added. "If the power source was waning, that would explain how Scar was able to resist the dolmen's influence."

  "Couldn't we dig it out of the rubble? Those modules are tough, aren't they? There might still be some juice in there."

  She shook her head. "That discharge you reported was probably the last gasp. If there is an intact ZPM under all that wreckage, it will more than likely be useless now."

  They moved on toward the makeshift medical center, passing two heavy steam trucks. Beckett threw a nod to the nurse standing at the rear of the vehicles, checking off items of cargo on an inventory pad. "Thank you for authorizing this, Elizabeth."

  Weir watched the pallets of gear come off the lorries. "Most of this was aboard Daedalus and earmarked for Atlantis re-supply, but I think we can spare it for someone in need. We can always send out for more. Erony's people don't have that luxury."

  He nodded. "And now the Stargate has been reopened for travel, I've got the medicines I needed through from Atlantis."

  "Are you making a difference, Carson?"

  "Yes," he said firmly. "At last, I really think we are. Linnian's taken up the role of First Minister and he fits it well. The man's already talked with some of Caldwell's engineering crew about new irrigation plans, water supplies, that sort of thing. Changes are going to come, and for the better. With Daus and the Hive Ship gone, it's like the war is over. Finally."

  Elizabeth looked away. If only it were that simple. In reality, Halcyon would find it hard to make its way through the transition from a military-based culture to one more focused on civilian life; and there still might be more Wraith on the way. But we're going to be here to help them.

  Outside the warehouse-clinic, they came across Mason and Clarke, the two soldiers crouched and laughing with a couple of locals, a man with a prematurely wizened face and a youth in a brown robe. They were playing some kind of gambling game with polyhedral dice.

  The dice rattled off the stone wall and Clarke scowled. "Oh, you bloody little-" The corporal caught sight of Weir and fell into a guilty silence. "Uh. Ma'am."

  Mason came to attention. "Dr. Weir."

  "At ease, gentlemen," she smiled. "Don't stop on my account. Cultural exchange is always a good thing. Who's winning?"

  "Not me," Clarke frowned, adjusting the sling on his injured arm. "I think I left all my luck back in the Milky Way." He produced a chocolate bar from his ration pack and grudgingly handed it over to the younger man, who grinned. "Here you go. Don't eat it all at once."

  Mason relaxed a little. "I thought you ought to know, ma'am, that I was briefed by one of the senior riflemen. They're still in the process of rounding up the last few Hounds that went garrity after the business with the dolmen and all. Lot of `em have gone to ground, though, so it might take a fair while to find the last few."

  "Thank you, Staff Sergeant. I'd like you to liaise with Erony's men, give them whatever help we can to assist in the search."

  "Thank you, ma'am. And about that other matter..."

  "You can proceed at your own discretion. Carry on."

  Weir and Beckett crossed the clinic, the doctor pausing now and then to check on the flow of patients moving through the program of booster shots. "What was that about?" he asked, indicating Mason with a jerk of his head.

  "He requested permission to be the one to write the condolence letters to the families of Private Bishop and Private Hill."

  "Ah. Of course." Beckett hesitated. "You know, every time we lose someone, I find myself asking the same questions. Is it worth it? Will we ever be able to tell the people back home what goes on out here? There's never going to be an answer for Bishop's mum and dad or Hill's wife and kids, is there? Just a Union flag on a coffin."

  "Everyone who comes to Atlantis, who serves in the SGC, all of us know the risks we face." Elizabeth smiled at a small girl as she left the room, the bloom of a fresh in
oculation on her pale shoulder. "We just have to hold on to the knowledge that what we do here really does make a difference."

  The Ceremony of the Throne began before dawn, on board the Fourth Dynast's sumptuous air-yacht. In a break with protocol, Erony had closed the High Palace's grand audience chamber and ordered the rites to be performed on the wide-open decks of the airship's flyer bay. The broad space was cleared of aircraft, and now it echoed with the music of brass instruments and percussion. Banners hung from catwalks and gantries overhead, and stark flood lamps illuminated the temporary dais set up at the mouth of the launch bay. Beyond the yawning aperture, it was possible to see the distant hills of the Halcyon countryside, a soft yellow glow at the horizon heralding the oncoming sunrise.

  Every noble house on Halcyon was represented here, from the highest in rank to those at the very bottom of the pecking order. By official decree as interim ruler of the planet, Lady Erony had declared that all honor engagements and wars of privilege were nulled. All hunt splinters had been recalled. Every rivalry, every long-standing enmity was made forfeit. Barons and dukes who before would never had stood in the same room without drawing blades upon one another were together here, side by side.

  These rulings had sent a shock through every highborn court on the planet, but the reaction to them was weak compared to Erony's final demand on those who attended the ceremony. No weapons of any kind were allowed inside the hangar. Every knife, sword and pistol, every poisoned hatpin and derringer, push-dagger and dart, all of them were left behind.

  "She may as well have asked us to attend naked!" said one noblewoman, a dowdy baroness whose stage whisper easily reached the ears of Dr. Weir.

  To her right, spit-shined and handsome in his Air Force dress blues, Sheppard heard the comment and spoke out of the side of his mouth. "Let's be thankful that she didn't."

  "Eyes front, Colonel," said Caldwell, also in full uniform. "You've got us into enough trouble on this planet as it is. Don't start making fun of the rich kids now."

  As the official invite had stated, Doctors McKay and Beckett, Ronon Dex and Teyla Emmagan also joined the three of them. Ronon shifted uncomfortably under his greatcoat. He had promised Weir that he was unarmed, but she had her doubts that the big Satedan would ever put himself in a situation that he couldn't fight his way out of. For her part, Teyla was resplendent in a gossamer gown that her people had sent through the Gate for the occasion; she very much looked the part of an elegant leader, the dignity of the Athosian tribes strong in her eyes. Only someone who knew her as well as Elizabeth did could have seen the slight tensing in her jaw, the haunted glint in her eyes. Weir had only spoken briefly to Teyla in the aftermath of the Daedalus's rescue, but it was clear to her that she had faced a traumatic experience while on Halcyon. Beckett caught her eye and threw Elizabeth a brief smile; it was only Rodney who seemed distracted by all the pomp and circumstance. McKay couldn't keep his eyes off the ceremonial dais and the figure that now approached it, clad in a wide robe trimmed with dark green fur.

  In her youth, on vacation in England, Weir had watched the Trooping of the Colour outside Buckingham Palace, and she had half-expected something of similar ritual and display to go on here; but Halcyon was a militaristic people at heart, and their culture mimicked a wartime mentality of blunt, direct action.

  Erony climbed the dais and shrugged off the green robe, revealing an ornamental sword at her hip. A gasp rolled around the assembled crowd as she touched a belt buckle and let the weapon, scabbard and all, go clattering to the floor.

  "I'm guessing that's not a part of the ceremony," murmured Sheppard.

  When she spoke, Erony's voice was clear and strong. "The Magnate is Halcyon. Halcyon is the Magnate. So it is written in the codes of ascension, so it has been said time after time when one took this role. But in hundreds of years, those words have become meaningless. They are spoken and they have no weight. Today, this changes. Today, I become Lady Magnate of Halcyon and I declare it to be so." She stepped forward, advancing toward the ranks of assembled nobles. "From this dawn, there will be no more wars over petty words and trivial deeds." Erony crossed by the parties of Barons Palfrun and Noryn, sparing them an even look. "We will no longer support battles without honor or humanity. From this dawn, Halcyon will take up arms only in defense of herself, in defiance of the true enemy... The Wraith."

  Weir caught her eye and offered her a supportive nod. Erony continued. "Many among us feel as I do, that for too long our people have been set upon a course of self-destruction, of violence for the sake of violence. Many of you have yearned for peace, but lacked the fortitude or influence to bring it to be. But now you have a voice. Now our people, noble and common, have a voice, in me." She looked away for a moment. "A learned man, an outworlder and my friend, told me of a truism from his home planet."

  McKay shifted uncomfortably and looked at his shoes.

  "Those who live by the sword, die by the sword. I say here and now that this will not be the fate of Halcyon! The currency of death no longer carries any coin in this realm." She walked back to the dais, to where a second, more ornate set of robes of office was waiting. "I take my father's mantle now, and I take from his memory his love for this world... But I leave behind his appetite for warfare and the callous brutality that it spawned." She carefully donned the robes of the Magnate. "Our society changes as this dawn rises. It will not be easy, but it will be for the better, and our new friends from Atlantis will help us find the way." The woman drew herself up to her full height, and she was the very picture of regal nobility. "I am the Lady Magnate Erony Daus, I stand without Dynast and for my people, as Mag- istrex of the Sovereign World of Halcyon and her dominions... And to any baron who might plan to use force of arms to usurp my place, know that my army is not of soldiers, of riflemen or accursed Hounds. My army are the commoners, and without them, our world will not turn."

  Silence fell as the first rays of the sun drew honey colors over the landscape, the assembled barony reeling from the import of the speech. Elizabeth drew her hands together and applauded, quickly joined by each member of the Atlantis contingent; and soon the whole chamber resonated with an ovation as Lady Erony turned away and bowed before the new day.

  The airship's course took it over the jubilant streets of the city, the rolling countryside and back to the Terminal, slowing to a droning hover over the massive hangar that housed the Halcyon Stargate.

  Down on the deck, the Atlantis team were gathering themselves together next to Jumper Three, ready to take the ship back through the wormhole to their city. Caldwell was already up on board Daedalus, after finding a discreet corner from where to beam back to the starship. Quite rightly, Dr. Weir figured that the locals were edgy enough without seeing a man vanish to add to their misgivings. Knots of chattering nobles drifted around in their own little cliques, some perturbed by their new ruler's edicts, but many alight with the possibility they represented.

  Sheppard fiddled with his collar and loosened his tie a little. "Ah. These formal gigs are just not my thing. Dress blues always make me feel like I'm going to the prom."

  Weir eyed him. "And I was just going to say how well you scrub up." There was a hint of reproach in her voice.

  He shrugged. "Plain and simple suits me better, y'know? I guess I fit better when it comes to seeing things in a more, uh, uncomplicated way."

  She caught the inference. "Maybe I'll handle the diplomatic stuff from now," she smiled. "I'm not sure if inciting a radical restructure of a planetary monarchy was really what I had in mind when I gave you the green light."

  "You have no idea how happy it makes me feel to hear that, Elizabeth. From now on, I'll just do all the point-and-shoot hero stuff." He shrugged. "Your job's too damn tough for a grunt like me."

  Weir followed him into the Jumper. "Well, don't sell yourself short, John. You helped these people find a better way. That's something to be proud of."

  "Yeah, I guess it is." He sighed and paused to think for a mom
ent. "Hey, you think I'll get a statue or something?"

  "Just don't expect a pay rise."

  Ronon found Teyla at one of the portals along the side of the launch bay, the chill wind whipping at the folds of her dress. He coughed self-consciously and she turned, offering him a wan smile. "Ronon. Is it time for us to depart?"

  "Sheppard's warming up the ship now. We should get aboard."

  "Yes." She looked back out at the landscape. "It seems so peaceful down there. The countryside reminds me of Athos. It is hard for me to look out there and think of the horrors we saw. The fighting..." Her hand strayed to the faint line of bruising on her neck. "The Wraith."

  "When I was a Runner, I passed through worlds that looked like this. Like you say, peaceful. Quiet. But the Wraith were always there in the shadows, poisoning it. Always just out of reach. I hate them for that, for taking that away from people." Dex frowned, his own feelings conflicted about their time on Halcyon. "After all that happened here, at least on this planet, we gave it back." He studied his friend for a moment, thinking on the scars that were visible on her, and those that were not. There was much they shared in common in that regard, thanks to the predations of the Wraith.

  "For now," Teyla replied. "I hope they understand how much it costs to keep it." She turned away and tapped Ronon on the arm. "Time to go."

  As the last members of the team ducked to enter the open hatch at the rear of the Puddle Jumper, a clatter of footsteps drew their attention. Beckett backed inside to allow Erony and her retinue to address everyone.

  The Lady Magnate bowed to them. "My friends. We must go our separate ways and tend to our own concerns, but I hope this will not be the last time we meet." She inclined her head to Elizabeth. "Dr. Weir, thank you once again for your generous donations. With the information supplied to us by Dr. Beckett, we will be able to initiate a program of public works to eradicate the bone-rot once and for all." In turn she nodded to Sheppard, Ronon and Teyla. "You three fought like stormhawks in defense of my planet, despite the manner in which you were treated by my father. Your honor and courage will be a matter of record, and each of you shall be welcomed as warriors of highest rank when you next return. Halcyon is in your debt."