STARGATE ATLANTIS: Allegiance(Book three in the Legacy series)

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STARGATE ATLANTIS: Allegiance(Book three in the Legacy series) Page 28

by Scott, Melissa


  “Presumably because of his scientific expertise,” Dick said. “Dr. McKay also had extensive knowledge of Atlantis’s defenses, including the city’s computer security and its shields and weapons technology.”

  Shen folded her hand in front of her. “And what efforts did you make to recover Dr. McKay?”

  “You’ve seen my report,” Dick said. “Colonel Sheppard’s team was very nearly successful in retrieving Dr. McKay, but they had to fall back when the Hammond began taking heavy damage.”

  “Not a very good trade, one of our warships for one scientist,” Nechayev put in.

  Dick met his eyes. “One with information that could give a dangerous strategic advantage to the Wraith.”

  “And given his access to that information, why was he sent on such a mission?” Shen said. “Why would you risk such a valuable asset on what was essentially a military maneuver?”

  “Dr. McKay is an integral part of Colonel Sheppard’s team,” Dick began.

  “He is a scientist,” Shen said. “Surely responding to reports of a Wraith Culling does not require Atlantis’s Chief of Sciences. I think it is a sign of dangerously misplaced priorities to send someone so valuable on a mission for which he lacks any professional training.”

  “He has over five years of experience in the field,” Dick said.

  “It doesn’t seem to have done him much good,” Aurelia Dixon-Smythe said. “And now that you’ve lost him, you say that he must be recovered at all costs. How many costs do you expect us to absorb?”

  “It’s a reasonable question,” Strom said. “How much has losing Dr. McKay cost us? Including your efforts to get him back.”

  “I would characterize those efforts as part of our normal operations,” Dick said. “Which the IOA has already funded for the fiscal year.”

  “Are you saying your normal operations include your personnel getting kidnapped by the Wraith?” Martin asked, sounding almost curious.

  “It’s a risk that we understand to be part of our activities in the Pegasus Galaxy.”

  “A risk that could in many cases be avoided by better judgment in the authorization of missions,” Shen said. “There is no sense in sending non-military personnel to respond to combat situations.”

  “We’re not made of money, Mr. Woolsey,” Strom said. “I understand that in the past, you’ve had a great deal to say about the need to weigh the costs and benefits of missions that involve substantial risk to American — or international — personnel.”

  “The benefit, in this case, involved keeping our allies from being slaughtered by the Wraith,” Dick said.

  “A handful of local hunter-gatherers,” Shen said. “Who were not, as it turns out, in any danger. And in exchange, you have lost a valuable scientist, compromised Atlantis’s security, and risked one of Earth’s only battlecruisers.”

  Desai, who’d been listening quietly for some time with an expression that suggested he had a headache, spoke up mildly. “The Athosians are descended from an advanced technological society with a long history, now decimated by the Wraith,” he said. “They have extensive trading contacts within the Pegasus Galaxy.”

  “We’re not there as merchants,” Shen said. “This is a scientific expedition, and its goals should not be compromised by ill-conceived military actions.”

  “I think the goals of the expedition have evolved,” LaPierre said. “It’s all very well to study Ancient technology, but keeping the Wraith from reaching Earth has to be a priority.”

  “Which losing Dr. McKay didn’t help, either,” Nechayev said.

  “I frankly question whether either one requires funding a project of this magnitude,” Dixon-Smythe said. “If Atlantis had remained on Earth, we could have studied the Ancient technology without further provoking the Wraith.”

  “So I advised,” Shen said.

  “If Atlantis had stayed on Earth, it would have been the property of the Americans,” Nechayev said. “Do you really think they would have let you play with their toys?”

  Strom cleared his throat. “There may have been a number of misunderstandings,” he began.

  “I think I understood very clearly that the American government claimed Atlantis as long as it remained within American territorial waters,” Dick said. “As I recall, the IOA’s position was that returning Atlantis to Pegasus under international jurisdiction was a preferable situation. It’s not as if now we can bring it back.”

  “Because your ZPM was depleted in landing the city,” Shen said. “How convenient for certain parties involved.”

  “If you’re implying that I’m somehow misrepresenting our current power situation — ” Dick began, stung.

  “I am sure you are not,” Shen said. “Just as I am sure that there is some malfunction preventing Atlantis from communicating with Earth.”

  “They could be having some technical difficulty,” Dick said.

  “Like what?” Martin asked.

  “I don’t know,” Dick said. “I don’t have any more information than you do about why Atlantis isn’t dialing Earth, but I’m certain that Colonel Sheppard will be in touch as soon as he can.”

  Shen shook her head. “I wish I were as certain.”

  “You can’t seriously be accusing me of… I’m not even sure what you’re accusing me of,” Dick said.

  “Let me just say that I have serious doubts about whether the first loyalty of any of the leaders of the Atlantis expedition is to the IOA,” Shen said. “It might well prove in your own best interests in the short term to have your operations in Atlantis proceed without our oversight, but let me make this perfectly clear. In the long run, all you will accomplish is the end of the Atlantis project.”

  “If the IOA ceases to be interested in funding the Atlantis mission, I think there may be other options worth exploring,” Desai said.

  “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Strom said. “Mr. Woolsey, I think we could all use some more information here. I’d like you to prepare some notes on your reasoning for assigning scientific personnel to field missions in Pegasus. I think we’d all be interested in hearing about your thinking there.”

  “I’d be interested in hearing from Atlantis,” Dixon-Smythe said. “When do you think they might manage to dial in?”

  “I don’t know,” Dick said. “I’m as eager to hear from them as you are.” And I actually care about more than whether they’ve wasted any money, he thought but managed with an effort not to say.

  “If they’ve all been killed by the Wraith, this is going to turn out to have been an incredible waste of time,” Nechayev said.

  “Not if the city of the Ancients is intact,” Shen said.

  “Now I think we really are getting ahead of ourselves,” Martin said, his eyes on Dick as he spoke. “I don’t think we should write off these men and women yet.”

  “Thank you,” Dick said quietly.

  “This meeting is adjourned,” Strom said. “We’ll be in touch to schedule the next session.”

  Martin lingered by the table as the others filed out, Shen and LaPierre already back to arguing in low tones. “I don’t expect you to like me much, Mr. Woolsey,” he said. “I wouldn’t, if I were in your position.”

  “Your congressional record is impressive,” Dick said.

  “Like I said, I wouldn’t like me much,” Martin said. “I’ve actually read all those reports you submitted, which is more than I suspect you can say for a couple of other people who were just sitting here. I can’t fault your commitment to your people.”

  “Thank you,” Dick said again. It meant more to hear than he would once have believed it ever would.

  “But Shen’s got a point,” Martin said. “You’re supposed to be representing our interests out there. If not America’s, then…” He waved a hand around the conference table. “And I can’t help wondering if that’s really what you’re out there to do.”

  “I’m out there to represent Earth,” Dick said.

  “To represent Earth,
” Martin said. “That’s a tall order.”

  “And yet someone’s got to do it,” Dick said. “In the Milky Way, that’s the IOA, and under their auspices, the Stargate program. In Pegasus, right now that’s the Atlantis Expedition, because we’re the ones who are out there. You sent us back to Pegasus, and so there we are.” He shrugged. “I personally still believe that’s for the best.”

  “Someone has got to do it,” Martin said. “I think the question we’re all asking right now is whether that ought to be you.”

  “I can’t answer that question for you,” Dick said. “I have only one question for you in return: who else would you prefer?”

  “Personally, I’d rather have all our extraterrestrial operations back in the hands of the U.S. Air Force,” Martin said. “With congressional oversight, of course. But I don’t think that’s going to fly anymore. Carter ruffled too many feathers.”

  “Colonel Carter did an exemplary job of defeating the Replicators,” Dick said.

  “On behalf of the Air Force,” Martin said. “Or at least that’s some people’s feeling. Not to repeat every bit of the gossip that I’ve heard since taking this job — oh, about a week ago — but let’s just say that the best thing that I’ve heard said about the situation was that Carter’s Air Force through and through, and she wasn’t about to let American interests take a back seat.”

  “What’s the worst?” Dick said.

  Martin shrugged. “That if we’d wanted O’Neill calling the shots in Atlantis, we would have hired him.”

  Dick wasn’t sure what response he could profitably make to that. “What would you like to hear from me, Senator?”

  “Whose side are you on, Mr. Woolsey? And don’t say ‘Earth’. I don’t think it’s possible for anyone to represent the interests of the entire planet.”

  Dick shook his head. “Then with all due respect, Senator, I’m not sure what there is left for me to say.”

  Martin considered him for a moment longer, and then turned away. “See you in the next round of hearings,” he said. “You might want to give the question some more thought before then.”

  “As might you,” Dick said. “I understand Shen is interested in the job.”

  Martin snorted. “And I understand it’s good ice-skating weather in Hell this time of year.” He picked up his briefcase and went out, closing the door behind him.

  Dick gathered up his notes in the sudden quiet. None of them had proven to be of very much use. He resisted the urge to crumple them angrily into a ball, and put them away carefully instead.

  It was all he could do at the moment on behalf of either Atlantis or Earth. He wished it didn’t feel like doing so little in the face of what he could hardly believe anymore was a simple communications problem.

  “I’m sure they’re all right,” he said aloud, hoping that would make it sound more like it could possibly be true.

  Atlantis quieted down at night, but it was never silent. Besides the few people assigned to man the control room and monitor the city while it slept, there were always some who just weren’t sleeping. Some of that was what on Sateda they’d called ‘losing the sun’; when you spent too much time on planets where the day was different, it was easy to get day and night screwed up. Jet lag, they called it here, although Ronon had never entirely figured out why.

  He thought some of it was just that as busy as they usually were, if people wanted time for themselves, they had to steal it at weird hours. John could usually be found after midnight doing pretty much anything but sleeping. John and Rodney played video games or played with toys like a couple of overgrown kids, although at the moment that was out.

  John also hung around the gym if Ronon or Teyla were up, although he didn’t seem as ready to spar with the Marines as he used to be. Ronon thought it wasn’t even that he minded if some eighteen-year-old guy got the better of him so much as that he didn’t think it looked great for a commander to get kicked around too often by his own men. He was a good fighter, and Ronon thought he’d finally shaken off the ache in his side that had bothered him for a while after he got impaled twice in a month, but still.

  He wasn’t in the gym, though, or in the TV lounge watching the new DVDs people had bought while they were on Earth, or out driving golf balls off the balcony into the icy waves. It was probably a little dark for golf, although John was apparently kind of fascinated with it since a giant tentacle had reached up out of the waves and snagged one of his golf balls a meter above the water. Or anyway so he claimed.

  Ronon was heading back to his quarters when he nearly ran into John carrying McKay’s cat with the same defensive expression he had sometimes when Teyla handed him Torren, as if daring anyone to say anything about it.

  “Not again,” Ronon said.

  “I found him wandering around, and I hate to wake up Keller, so I figured I’d just keep him until morning.”

  “Better you than me,” Ronon said. “What if he ruins your stuff?”

  “I’ll put him in the bathroom,” John said. Ronon trailed him out of a sense that this ought to be entertaining. The cat flailed as John attempted to put him in the bathroom, and John hissed in pain, or maybe that was the cat hissing.

  “Stupid cat,” he muttered as the door shut.

  “You’re bleeding,” Ronon pointed out, settling into a chair.

  “I’m used to it,” John said. The cat yowled from the other side of the door, making an impressive variety of noises. “He’s not as bad as the Wraith.” He sat down on the edge of the bed, fingering the scratches on his wrist. Ronon couldn’t help noticing that the room looked neater than usual, as if John hadn’t actually been spending very much time there. “So,” he said.

  “So, what?”

  John shrugged. He looked tired, as if this was just one more thing added to a really long day at work. “I never really got a chance to ask,” he said. “Are you okay with the way things went down on Sateda?”

  “This works,” Ronon said.

  “Okay,” John said after a moment, in a tone that invited more of an answer. Ronon thought about it, although he hadn’t actually been hoping to talk about work at this point either.

  “It would be better if the Satedans could keep the artifacts of the Ancestors,” he said. “But right now we need a lot of supplies for rebuilding, and this stuff is valuable. It’s better to make a good deal that means we get help rebuilding and Atlantis and the Genii get stuff that helps them fight the Wraith.”

  “We?” John asked, his voice carefully casual, and, okay, that wasn’t entirely about work.

  “I’m still Satedan,” Ronon said. “I thought I could never go back. Now… maybe when I get done fighting the Wraith I could retire and have a house or something. Train the new Satedan army.”

  “Yeah, you could go home,” John said, with a smile that didn’t look happy at all. “That would be a good thing.”

  “When I get done fighting the Wraith,” Ronon said. “I don’t think that’s going to be anytime soon. I’m not quitting the team.”

  “I wish there were more of one,” John said. “Right now it’s you and Teyla and Radek, and Radek keeps making it clear that he’s only planning on doing this in the short term.”

  “In the long term, we get McKay back, and somebody else takes over Woolsey’s job so you can go back on the team.”

  “Maybe even Woolsey,” John said. “Or somebody. But not me.”

  “You’re not doing too bad,” Ronon said. “Nothing’s blown up.”

  “Not exactly a really demanding standard there, but I see your point.” He looked away, his eyes shadowed.

  “So?”

  “So what if it is me?”

  “You try not to get stuff blown up,” Ronon said.

  “I can do that,” John said. “It just isn’t the same as being on the team.” He still wasn’t meeting Ronon’s eyes. “And, I mean, I know that’s just… sooner or later this happens, right? You get promoted or transferred or something, and people say t
hey’re going to write, but…”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I mean, I’d still be here, but there’d be a new team, and…” John looked like he was struggling for words. “Just working with people isn’t the same as having friends,” he said finally.

  Ronon looked at him for a long moment. “You think it’s all about the team?”

  “It’s intense,” John said. “You get to know people, and you spend all your time hanging out with them, they’re your buddies, and then…” His mouth twisted in a sharp smile. “People move on.”

  “You suck, Sheppard,” Ronon said.

  John looked like he had no idea why Ronon’s voice had gotten so sharp. “Okay.”

  He was tired of crap like this, tired of dealing with the ways that Earth people talked about things like friendship or loyalty and turned out to mean something entirely different, something he didn’t understand and wasn’t sure he wanted to. For a moment it was tempting to rethink Cai’s offer to come back to Sateda. It would mean living with people who made sense again.

  “You said we were friends,” he said.

  John shrugged one shoulder. “We are. So?”

  John still looked like he didn’t get it, and Ronon was tired of trying to explain things, but that was the choice; go home, where people understood things without endless explanations, or make the effort to live here.

  “So what is this ‘people move on’ crap? Is that how it works for you? Because if so, I’m just saying, you do suck.”

  “No, I… “ Ronon thought he was finally getting it that Ronon wasn’t happy. “It’s not like I want that to happen,” John said after a moment.

  “Then you think I suck.”

  “No,” John said, not quite laughing. “I think stuff happens. People lose touch.”

  “People break up, too, but that doesn’t mean you plan on it.”

  “I try not to,” John said, but maybe that’s what he was thinking, in the back of his mind, that this thing with Teyla wouldn’t work out any better than being married had. That he wasn’t going to hold onto his friends when he’d gone years without speaking to his own brother.

 

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