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sga_flashficTitle: Fellow Traveler
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
ltlj
Rating: PG13
Pairing: none -- Sheppard, Rodney, Teyla, Ford
Spoilers: mild ones for first season only
Disclaimer: Don't own anything, no money made.
Challenge: First Contact, for the Amnesty Challenge
Summary: The team meets an alien who may or may not be helpful. There are misunderstandings, and Wraith.
Note: This is too big for one post, so this is part 1 of 2.
Sitting in the jumper's cockpit, hovering above the open hatch down to the gate room, John really wished he had kept his mouth shut at the briefing. He didn't wish that often; not keeping his mouth shut was a lifestyle choice and he had made peace with the consequences a long time ago. But they had been in Atlantis for several months now, everybody had seen all the movies, read all the books -- those brought along as legitimate personal items and the ones smuggled in as files buried in databases -- and the only new entertainment was in torturing each other, and John had apparently volunteered for the barrel this morning.
From the jump seat behind him, in the voice he used when he was pretending to be reasonable, Rodney was saying, "Listen, I know you're xenophobic, and it's hardly surprising--"
"I am not xenophobic," John said, and tapped his headset. "Flight, Jumper One is go for launch."
The conversation had started that morning when Elizabeth had mentioned the linguistics team's research into some writing the archeologists had found on MX2-377. She had said the figures weren't similar to anything they had seen before, Ancient or human, and it could be a vaguely hopeful sign indicating that they might encounter even more kinds of sentient alien life here. John had said that he thought they had already encountered too much alien life as it was. Elizabeth had retorted that some allies like the Asgard wouldn't hurt, and Teyla had asked what they looked like. While Elizabeth was finding some images on her laptop, John had made the mistake of describing them as "creepy little gray things, about so high" which he was never going to hear the end of.
Rodney continued relentlessly, "--since if someone's first experience with an alien lifeform is getting stuck behind Teal'c in the commissary line at the SGC or seeing Thor drop in to visit O'Neill--"
John tried, "And this whole conversation is pointless, because even if there were Asgard in Pegasus, they would be--" he waved a hand vaguely "--their freak cannibal cousins who kill humans and wear our scalps for hats."
"Ouch," Ford commented.
Rodney hadn't paused for breath. "--it's obviously a vastly different effect on your perceptions than anything involving a hive ship and being pinned to a dinner table by a life-sucking vampire who wants to eat your entire species, but--"
"But they would not be cannibals," Teyla pointed out thoughtfully. "Since they are an entirely different species--"
"Yeah, not cannibals." Ford twisted around to look at her. "But the scalping thing would be--"
"--and you are the biggest xenophobe I've ever--"
"Shut up!" John shouted. "Not you, Flight; say again?"
"I said--" Peter Grodin's voice sounded fondly exasperated. "Jumper One is clear for launch. Good luck."
"Thanks, Flight. I'll need it."
It turned out John was right about that part.
***
The mission seemed to be going well for once. It was a gray rainy day on the planet, but the Enarian village was nestled in a valley between lush green forested hills and surrounded by acres of grain fields and vegetable gardens. The Athosians had never traded with the Enarians before, but they had heard good things about them from other trading partners, and it looked like, for once, the other trading partners had been right. This was fantastic, because Atlantis really needed the food.
First, the big crop of tava the Athosians had been expecting to harvest had been suddenly destroyed by the mainland's equivalent of locusts. It was part of the hit and miss aspect of trying to farm on an unfamiliar planet, and they would be prepared for it next year, but it had been a huge disappointment. It had actually caused Halling to lose his trademark Athosian resignation and stoicism long enough to swear and kick a water bucket. Then the big trading deal Stackhouse's team had scored with the Debians had fallen through when the town had been culled and the granaries had caught fire in the confusion afterward. They had decided to give the Debians the medical supplies anyway, because the survivors needed them so badly. Then Bates' team had been trying to bargain for a crop on Kelsa, only to discover that the only offer the Kelsans were interested in was what they could get for Bates and his Athosian trade advisor Selana on the local sex slave market. This had resulted in Bates and Selana bonding over beating the absolute crap out of a gang of overconfident Kelsans -- it had taken John the entire time he was gearing up to understand that they were scrambling backup not to break up a fight between Bates and Selana, but to get Bates and Selana out of a fight -- and team morale had apparently benefited from it overall. Kelsa had been firmly crossed off the list as a trading prospect, and Bates' science team advisor Dr. Baroukel had recommended locking it out of the dialing console, unless they had a deadly energy creature or an unstable naquadah generator they needed to get rid of.
All this had left Atlantis on rationing again, with only a month's supply of staples for the city and the Athosian encampment.
But it looked like this time they had actually scored. The Enarians had a high crop yield and often traded it for necessities and luxury goods they couldn't produce themselves. The village a few miles from the gate was accustomed to offworld visitors, and the people looked healthy and relatively happy, with kids playing in the muddy street and the little wooden thatched houses painted bright colors.
And nothing had gone wrong so far. The Enarians had responded well to the standard "we are peaceful explorers, allied with the Athosians" speech, and Teyla had seemed to develop an instant rapport with Biel, the village trade representative. John had managed to talk to the curious Enarians gathering in the street without accidentally propositioning anybody. Rodney had actually complimented the village. He had said the hovels are really kind of nice, and it doesn't smell bad at all but hey, compliment, and Biel had only heard the words "kind of nice." The Enarians were friendly, relaxed, and open, and actually seemed to like them. And to like them in a "let's cooperate" way and not in a "let's pretend to cooperate while making plans to rape and murder them and take all their stuff" way.
The conversations were reassuringly normal for a small agrarian community in the Pegasus Galaxy, about crops and the lousy weather, with everyone gathering around to ask if their visitors had seen much evidence of Wraith culling on the worlds they had visited. One of the women, seeing how charmed the village kids were with John and Ford, asked if they had any children, but it seemed like idle curiosity, not some kind of a test. "No, ma'am," Ford said, smiling as he watched a toddler gnawing determinedly on a rag doll. "The Athosians -- Teyla's people -- have kids, but they don't live with us." He added soberly, "It's not safe right now."
John's nerves were a little on edge, still waiting for some innocuous comment to turn everybody against them, but the Enarians had all just nodded in glum understanding.
John was still keeping an eye on one of the villagers. The guy had been staring at them intently, more with suspicion than the idle curiosity of the others, and there was something about him that was a little off. He was tall and gangly, with a fluffy mane of nearly white hair, and he was dressed in the white and yellow robes that many of the women were wearing, rather than the pants and smocks of the other men. He was watching them with such intensity that John was half-expecting him to whip out a weapon when the guy tripped and fell in the village fountain.
"That is our friend, Liam," Biel explained quickly. "He also came to us through the Ring of Travel."
John retreated out of splash range as Liam sloshed out of the stone basin and stood dripping in the mud. Wringing the water out of his robe, Liam said to Teyla, "I hope you don't have any stupid trading customs, because we don't do that sort of thing here."
"Liam, why don't you go and check on the baking," Biel interposed hastily, while Teyla was still stymied for a reply.
Liam huffed, gathered his robes and stalked off. John shifted his assessment from "potential danger" to "village character." And really, if the Enarians were nice enough to adopt awkward strays who came through the gate, it was another sign that they were good people to deal with.
"Liam is a little different," Biel explained, looking a bit worried.
"We are accustomed to differences among our people," Teyla assured her gently.
"Really," Rodney muttered, mostly absorbed in taking energy readings. "I don't recall any incompetent transvestites with head injuries in our little community. Of course, there's Dr. Pierce in Biology, but I certainly wouldn't call him incompetent--"
John gave Rodney's shoulder a squeeze and a friendly shake, and said, equally low-voiced, "If you screw this up by insulting someone, I'm going to give you a head injury."
Rodney snorted in annoyance. "Please, my head is too valuable and you know it. Threaten something else if you want to be convincing."
Before John could move on to a better threat, Ford leaned in to ask incredulously, "Dr. Pierce is a man? Are you serious?" and the incident was forgotten.
After some initial bargaining in the street, Teyla and Biel and a few of the other women went into one of the huts to talk serious business. Apparently the only traditional custom they had regarding trading was that the women cut the deal while the men wandered around outside and goofed off. Anoch, the male village elder, showed them around a bit, and John relied heavily on Ford's ability to say things like "That's a really nice plow," with a straight face.
The first time Teyla emerged it was to inform John that the Enarians understood advanced technology, though they didn't have much left of it now. She had already made the tentative suggestion that the jumper could be used to haul any grain they traded for, and Biel had been enthusiastic at the idea.
"We used to have flying machines, too. And we had a big city over that way," Anoch explained, with a vague wave to the north. "It got blown up trying to fight off the last big Wraith culling, years and years ago, and now if anyone tries to live in it their skin falls off."
John lifted a brow at Rodney, who was already studying his equipment. Rodney waved a hand reassuringly. "I'm not picking up anything abnormal. The survivors of the original attack must have been highly aware of the minimum safe distance." Rodney frowned at the readout and asked Anoch sharply, "You don't use any technology now? No power sources?"
"No, not anymore. It's nice, and saves a lot of work," Anoch said regretfully. "But it does attract the Wraith."
"Yeah," John had to admit, "it really does."
More glum nods of agreement from the other villagers. "I'm getting an intermittent power reading," Rodney said, mostly to himself. "But it's not showing any of the characteristics of a ZPM field. It's almost a negligible amount of output. Huh. It might be something left over from the outlying support network for one of their cities...."
"Yeah, get right on that," John told him, as Rodney wandered off down the street, muttering to himself.
When it became clear that nothing more exciting was going to happen than Teyla and Biel hammering out the details of the trade, most of the village left to go back to their fields. Only the older men and women who watched the younger children or worked at crafts like pottery and weaving stayed behind. Anoch reappeared and sidled up to John and Ford with a jug of something he called mead. John didn't really think the old guy was up to anything, but after The Incident on M3X-587, they had all sworn off trying the local rotgut. "Uh, thanks, but we can't," John said, smiling politely as Ford backed warily away. He jerked his head in Teyla's general direction. "Duty, you know."
"Right, I know what you mean," Anoch said, casting a glance around to make sure none of the women were watching before he knocked back a snort.
Teyla came out later to give John a handful of dried arum kernels to inspect. Biel and two other Enarian women waited politely out of earshot, watching anxiously. This was a bargaining technique Teyla used when the occasion warranted it, casting John as the bad cop whose approval she had to get in order to make the deal. John wasn't sure Biel was buying it, but she looked happy enough to go through the motions. "Looks good," he told Teyla, keeping his expression mildly critical. "This is food, right?"
Teyla gave him an indulgent smile. "It can be boiled and eaten as it is, or ground into flour. Dried, it can last for many months, and is very nutritious. It is exactly what we need." She sounded highly satisfied with herself, and he suspected she had just come out here to brag. "The Enarians are much troubled by infections caused by injuries during the harvest and while hauling the grain. They are very interested in the antiseptics and topical antibiotics we can offer."
From her expression, John suspected she was cutting a deal that was going to make Elizabeth giddy with relief, Halling bust out a grin, and Bates seethe with jealousy. He smiled at her. "Go for it."
She nodded, mock-solemn, as the Enarian women bounced excitedly. She added thoughtfully, "I may have to throw in a knife-sharpener," and headed back inside with the others.
Ford leaned in to examine the multi-colored kernels, pointing out, "It looks like corn."
"It does." Their eyes met in speculation.
Ford's brows lifted. "You think it would pop like--"
"Maybe," John allowed cautiously. "Don't say anything to McKay. If it doesn't work, we'll never hear the end of it."
The next time Teyla stepped out for a status report, she had been in the process of locking down a deal for enough arum flour and toba root to get them through the next six months, plus seed for the Athosians to start their own crops. John sent Ford back to the jumper to dial into Atlantis and tell them to start moving the crates of the medical supplies the labs had manufactured for trade into the gate room. They had been invited to stay for dinner, and he was hoping to have the first shipments received and delivered before then.
Rodney wandered up at that point, having finally come out of his energy reading trance. John asked, "Find anything?"
"I had some more anomalous readings, but they're too erratic to track down." He grimaced in a preoccupied way, tapping the detector against his hand. "It could just be a scanning error."
John nodded solemnly. "Right, it must be the Ancient blinky tool at fault."
Rodney glared absently. "Whatever. Any chance we can wrap things up here in Hobbiton by the end of this century? I'm anxious to get past the standing around portion of our day and on into the exhausting manual labor part."
John lifted a brow. "If lifting a few crates and baskets of grain into a jumper is going to kill you--"
Rodney perked up. "Yes?"
"I'm sure the Enarians will be willing to spring for a nice funeral."
Rodney rolled his eyes. "Yes, and your oh-so-quirky sense of humor is usually why...."
He trailed off as Teyla came out of the hut. John knew immediately something was wrong. Her shoulders were tense and her face was grim. She crossed the muddy little plaza toward them with determined strides, and said, "The deal is ended, Major. Biel says they will not trade with us." She was fighting to keep her expression under control, but her voice was bitter and upset.
"What happened?" Rodney asked, startled. "Did they want something disgusting?" He frowned at John. "Did you accidentally offer to marry somebody again?"
"No! McKay, shut up." John looked down Teyla. "What's wrong?"
"I am not certain," Teyla said stiffly. Biel had come out of the hut after her and stood a short distance away, almost wringing her hands, looking as upset as Teyla. "I have offered as much of the medicines as the lab can produce."
"You want more?" John asked Biel. He hoped this was the Enarians' version of a bargaining tactic and Teyla was just taking it the wrong way. Except Teyla didn't take things the wrong way, ever. "We have to get the materials to make them, and it takes time--"
"No, no, the amount offered was more than generous." Biel shifted uncomfortably.
John was hyperaware of the other Enarians gathering around, but it didn't feel like an ambush. The few older people who had stayed for the trading all seemed as baffled by this development as John, and nobody was armed. Anoch was looking at Biel as if he thought she had gone completely crazy. John asked, "You want something else? Because we pretty much need everything else we have to survive." They had had people try bait and switch deals before, pretending to want the medical supplies only to ask for weapons at the last minute. After the Genii, they weren't making that mistake again.
Biel said hurriedly, "No, nothing like that."
"Okay." John felt like he was running out of options here. "Do you want proof that we have the drugs?" he tried, holding onto his patience with effort. "That they're good? Because we can arrange that."
Biel winced. "Again, that is very generous. It is just that...we cannot trade with you."
"But why?" Teyla asked, letting her frustration show. "I thought we had an understanding-- If there is something I have said that upset you--"
"No, it is nothing like that," Biel said quickly.
"So what changed, what did we do?" John asked, trying not to sound as desperate as he was beginning to feel.
Biel just shrugged miserably. "It is a question of...trust."
Teyla's eyes went hard. "Trust?"
"What, you don't trust us?" Rodney demanded. "All we're asking for is food and seeds. What do you think we're going to do with it besides eat it and plant it?"
"I am sorry," Biel said, and she did sound sorry, which was just that much more exasperating.
John tried his best to sound reasonable. "We've explained why we travel with weapons. The last trading trip our people went on, they almost ended up being sold as slaves." He added, "Look, just tell us what you want, and we'll see what we can do."
"I am sorry," Biel repeated, avoiding his eyes, "But there can be no agreement. That is our final answer."
It looked final. The others were still obviously puzzled but nobody broke ranks to argue with her. Feeling helpless, John swore under his breath. He exchanged a grim look with Teyla and said, "Right, let's go home." And tell them that Atlantis Recon-1 has snatched defeat from the jaws of victory once again. We suck at this. And he didn't have a fucking clue why.
"I am sorry," Teyla said suddenly, looking up at him. She still had her calm expression, but it didn't conceal her bitter disappointment. "I know you depend on my skills, and my people's trading contacts, and I feel I have failed--"
"It's not you," John told her. "Obviously. You didn't have these problems before you guys joined us--" He didn't want to have this conversation in front of the people who had just so abruptly shown them the door. He squeezed Teyla's shoulder. "Let's get out of here."
Biel took a step toward them. "Please, I hope this will not cause you trouble." She hesitated. "I know Anoch had invited you to eat with us, and if you still wish to stay...."
That was about all John could take at the moment. He gave her a bitter smile and said, "No, thanks. We need to get home so we can get started starving to death with the rest of our people. Bye," and started away.
They walked out of the village in silence and started down the hill, through the field of tall grass and scrubby trees. Rodney said, "Is it just me, or does it seem like we finally met normal people, and they rejected us out of hand?"
"It's not just you." John keyed his radio and said, "Ford, is the gate still open?"
Ford's reply came in a burst of static. "Yes, sir. I told them to get the--"
"Tell them to forget it, the deal's off. We're on our way back, we'll meet you at the jumper."
There was a brief silence, then Ford muttered, "Crap." Obviously deciding that questions wouldn't be welcome at the moment, he added, "Yes, sir."
John signed off. Teyla shook her head wearily, saying, "I have never had a negotiation fail at such a point before. It is...discouraging."
"It just came out of nowhere?" John asked.
"We had agreed on the trade almost immediately, and the discussion only concerned amounts and when deliveries would occur. It was very casual -- or at least it seemed so. Biel left the room several times." Teyla added grimly, "There must have been a conversation that I was not privy to."
"Are you sure you didn't do anything?" Rodney asked John suspiciously.
"I'm sure." John glared at him. "Did you insult anybody?"
"Oh please, of course not. I was working on that energy reading. No one even said anything to me. I suppose they could tell I was busy." He threw a look back over his shoulder, his mouth twisted. The village was almost obscured by trees and the tall grasses lining the path now. "They were very polite."
He was right, they had been polite. And not fake creepy polite, like the Genii. John shook his head. If they couldn't even manage a deal with the people who practically ran the supermarket for this part of the Pegasus Galaxy, he didn't know what the hell they were going to do.
Running footsteps sounded behind them on the path and John and Teyla spun, lifting their P-90s. Rodney fell back a step, dropping a hand to his sidearm.
It was the weird gangly guy, Liam. He slid to an uncoordinated halt, lifting his hands. "Easy, easy. It must be obvious I'm unarmed," he said huffily.
John eyed him narrowly, though he had trouble imagining that the Enarians had sent the village eccentric to kill them. "What do you want?"
Liam countered with, "Why didn't you say you were Lantians?"
Okay, that's a surprise. John said carefully, "Because we're not Lantians."
Liam gestured airily. "You've got a Lantian ship. Even if you stole it, which I suppose you must have--"
Teyla said, "We are not thieves." Her voice was like icy granite. Athosians took accusations of stealing only slightly less serious than accusations of cooperating with the Wraith, and Teyla was having a really lousy day. "And we have wasted enough time with people who pretend to want a trading agreement only to change their minds like fickle children. Say what you came to say plainly, please, so we may go in peace."
Liam at least looked guilty. He said defensively, "Only Lantians can use Lantian technology."
Teyla lifted a brow, her expression shifting from grim to speculative. John exchanged a look with Rodney. They were all thinking the same thing, and Rodney really wanted to blurt it out and demand an answer now. John stared him down, willing him to keep his mouth shut, and Rodney subsided with a glare and a strangled "humph."
John looked at Liam deliberately. "We told you, we're peaceful explorers. The Lantians lived on the planet we originally came from, a long time ago. That's why we can use their ships."
"Oh." Liam did a little flouncing thing that made it very difficult to view him as a potential danger. "Why didn't you say so, then?"
"I don't know. Maybe because nobody asked?"
Teyla began, "Is that why you--" She froze for an instant, her eyes going wide. "Wraith."
"Close?" John scanned the sky, tapping his headset. "Ford, we've got Wraith. Ford?" Static was the only answer.
"Yes, very close," Teyla said, her hands tightening on the P-90 as she looked up at the cloudy sky.
"Oh, God." Rodney yanked the lifesigns detector out of his vest. "There are readings all around us, but I can't tell which are Wraith and which are Enarians."
It was at that point they noticed Liam had just pulled a device very similar to the lifesigns detector out of his robes. "I can't see the darts, but there's a ship in orbit--" Liam looked up and saw their expressions, which were startled, incredulous, and beginning to be very pissed off. He said brightly, "I suggest we run now, and debate this later."
"Go," John said grimly and they ran for the trees. Liam bolted the other way, back toward the village, bellowing a warning.
"That scanner he had was Ancient," Rodney panted. "That explains the intermittent reading I was picking up--"
"Later," John said. Then he heard the culling beam. He yelled a warning, shoved Rodney sideways, and that was the last thing he remembered.
***
John woke to people screaming. He blinked, staring at a dark ceiling arching overhead, draped with shrouds and strands of web. The sick stench of death and rot was heavy in the damp air and he felt the tingling numbness in his arms and legs that meant he had been hit with a Wraith stunner. Sticky strands of something was stuck to his arms and legs and the back of his head, tying him to the floor, resisting his first panicked jerk. He added all that up and said, with feeling, "Oh, crap."
"Major...."
"Rodney?" John made a huge effort, twisting to put as much torque into it as possible, and managed to rip his head free of the sticky web. He craned his neck, squinting to see. Rodney lay just a few feet away, moving sluggishly on the filthy floor. They were in a small dim room, off an open corridor. There were drapes of material like ragged skin, dark walls covered with a rubbery organic substance, the webs, two skeletons cocooned against the wall. Uh huh, John thought, there's really no mistaking where we are. "You okay?"
"No, actually. Where are--" John heard the moment when realization hit. Rodney's voice changed from dazed annoyance to pure dread. "Oh God."
"Rodney, don't panic--"
"That is the stupidest thing you've ever said," Rodney hissed, "because if there was ever, ever, a situation that called for panic--"
"Rodney, I need you not to panic," John said, gritting his teeth. There was no one else in this room with them, though he could hear ragged desperate screams and sobbing from down the corridor. He suppressed the impulse to yell for Teyla and Ford. Teyla had ducked in the other direction, and the beam might have missed her. Ford had been close to the gate, and could have escaped if he had had any warning at all.
John could feel the webbing on the skin of his throat, clinging like really disgusting and supernaturally strong spun sugar. He swallowed down a surge of terror and made himself say evenly, "Do you have a hand free?"
He heard Rodney take a deep sobbing breath. "No, I-- Wait, yes. I wasn't-- It's not stuck all the way, like they didn't finish."
"Try to get loose. Do you have any weapons?" John asked, concentrating every muscle on trying to rip his arm free. His tac vest, jacket, sidearm, and belt were gone, though he had the rest of his clothes. Wraith usually stripped their captives before webbing them up, and John had only seen people cocooned to walls and in cubbies, not on the floor. It was like they had been temporarily secured in the first handy spot, until the Wraith were finished with the others.
"No, no vest, no gun. Why aren't we-- You know." Rodney must have come to the same conclusion. His voice was shaky but he sounded focused, and John could see him wriggling to try to free himself. "It's like they just stuck us here out of the way. Why would they do that?"
"Uh." It was either because the Wraith wanted to question them, or because they were first up on the menu. Actually, it was probably both. But it was another indication that Teyla and Ford hadn't been captured, or they would be in here stuck to the floor too. "If they found the jumper--"
"Never mind, I don't want to know. The horrible possibilities are mounting up fast enough without--" Rodney gasped with effort and managed to lift his head. "--without any help."
There really shouldn't be this much screaming. John levered his arm up enough that he could look at his watch. "We've been out for almost an hour. Something's wrong. They should have finished cocooning everybody by now." He winced as the disjointed sobbing of someone down the corridor suddenly scaled up into a terrified shriek. "Everyone should be unconscious."
"Maybe they stopped for lunch. Oh, wait." Rodney's voice had a hysterical edge. "That would be us."
John got his arm loose up to the shoulder and dug in a pocket, finding the small folding knife the Wraith had overlooked. He managed to get it open and tried sawing at the webbing, but it was like trying to cut rope with plastic. He shoved the knife back in his pocket with a curse and went back to just tearing at the stuff. He said reasonably, "I prefer to think that something's gone wrong and--"
John caught a blue and white flash from the corridor as something tore down it, slamming aside webbing and ragged shrouds, going up the wall as it passed out of sight. Heavy footsteps shook the deck panels as two Wraith drones pounded after it. Stunner fire echoed down the corridor.
"Okay, you're right, something's wrong," Rodney whispered. "What the hell was that?"
"It wasn't human. It was on the ceiling." John freed his other arm and managed to wrench himself up into a sitting position. Some kind of animal got into the ship? That was a just a little too bizarre.
More stunner fire came from further away, muffled by distance and bulkheads. John caught another glimpse of movement and looked up in time to see the shrouds overhead tremble as something large crawled rapidly under them.
"Oh, great." John tore frantically at the webbing on his legs, keeping his eyes on the ceiling. With their luck it would be some kind of predator symbiotic to Wraith ships, like rats on a sailing ship. Something that fed on trapped humans.
Then a voice from the ceiling said, "It's me."
John froze. He looked at Rodney, who mouthed the words, "Did you hear that?"
John nodded, eyes on the shadows overhead, trying to see which one was talking to them.
Looking up, Rodney raised his voice slightly. "What?"
It landed on the floor between them with a light thump. Rodney made a strangled yelp and John jerked back so hard he almost managed to yank a leg free. It was big, bright blue, with a wild tangle of white hair, and it looked like a combination of goblin and the salt vampire from Star Trek, except it seemed to be wearing its skeleton on the outside.
It looked from John to Rodney and back, taking in their horrified expressions. "Oh, come on. I thought you were from an advanced culture!" It folded its arms, apparently offended.
"Oh, my God," Rodney said slowly. "That voice."
It said, "Yes, it's me. Liam. Oh, by the way, I'm not human. Happy now?"
"What the fuck are you?" John demanded. He couldn't even tell how it was talking. It had sucker pads where its mouth should be.
"As if the name of my species would make any difference." Liam shifted uncomfortably, his body language still vaguely human despite the wildly different anatomy. "Obviously, I can change my physical structure--"
"Like a werewolf." Okay, that wasn't the word John wanted.
"A shapechanger," Rodney corrected warily, managing to lever himself up on one elbow. "Shapeshifter. Whatever. Is everyone in the village like this?"
"Of course not! They're ordinary humans, like you, except apparently more intelligent." Liam waved its hands in the air agitatedly. It made a weird kind of sense. As a human Liam had been awkward in a way that had read as discomfort in his own body. But that hadn't been his body. "Now listen, I lost cohesion in the culling beam, so they didn't know what I was. I've been delaying them but this isn't a large ship and I can't keep it up forever. And we all want to get our people out of here before we're all eaten, correct?"
Rodney threw a look at John, who agreed cautiously, "Right."
Liam fixed its inhuman eyes on the corridor, distinctly uncomfortable. It had eight-fingered hands, John realized, with little twisty feelers on each fingertip, which must have something to do with its ability to cling to the walls and ceiling. "I may be able to help bring that about, if I can get something from a Wraith."
John's eyes narrowed. It didn't sound like it -- he -- it was talking about a weapon. "Something like what?"
Liam made that fluttery gesture again, made very disturbing by the feelers. "Blood, preferably. Skin or even hair, though that will be more problematic--"
"You're talking about DNA. Genetic material," John said. He had the feeling he wasn't going to like where this was going.
"Oh." Liam sniffed, deflating a little. "You know what that is?"
"We're vaguely familiar with the concept, yes," Rodney prompted impatiently. "What are you going to do with it?"
"If I have a sample of their genetic material, I can turn into a Wraith." Liam nodded earnestly, as if this was a good thing.
John stared at Liam, then at Rodney. "Are we actually having this conversation?"
"Apparently so," Rodney agreed, his expression caught between academic interest and horror. "This is very surreal. It must think we're really stupid."
"How so?" Liam asked, apparently genuinely baffled.
"What do you mean, how--" John heard running in the corridor. "They're coming."
Liam made a muffled eek noise and leapt for the ceiling.
Rodney dropped his head and John flopped back down, just in time. He kept his eyes slitted open and watched two drones stalk past, heading the other way.
When they were gone, Liam dropped back to the floor. "So are you going to help me or not?" he demanded in a stage whisper that could probably be heard at the other end of the ship.
John levered himself up into a sitting position again. "Help you turn into a Wraith?" He just wanted to be clear on that point. "And what's going to stop you from eating us and joining them?"
Liam actually sputtered in outrage. "Moral principles, to start with! And I won't be anatomically correct, there's no point in that! Come on, I need your help!"
"I don't know if you've noticed," Rodney pointed out acidly, "but we're a little tied up right now."
"This isn't even a hive ship or cruiser, it's a small scout." Liam reached for the webbing on Rodney's legs and Rodney wrenched backward with a yelp.
"Get off," John snarled, stretching forward to knock its hands away.
"What's the problem?" Liam demanded impatiently.
"Are you serious?" Rodney said in exasperation, "The problem is, the only other person we've run into so far in this galaxy who recognized a puddlejumper and knew about Lantian technology was a ten thousand year old Wraith. Obviously you were using Ancient technology to scan us, causing the intermittent power readings I was picking up. And you were in the process of kicking us out of the Enarian village when this happened. Why should we trust you? And why do you need our help?" He gestured wildly, as best he could while still mostly stuck to the floor. "Why don't you just turn into something that can kill all the Wraith on the ship?"
John had been wondering about that, too. But Liam hissed, "Because I need genetic material! I've been living on Enar for the past hundred years and all I've got left is this, human, and strange tentacled creature from the bulroot swamp. It's a rather limited repertoire!"
John watched Liam narrowly. "Why were you with the Enarians?"
Liam sighed. "Long story short, my species was destroyed by the Wraith generations ago, I live with humans because I have no other choice, and can we just get on with it?"
"You needed human blood to look like a human," John persisted, "do you kill people to get it?"
"Yes, the people of Enar are so abysmally stupid that they never noticed the pile of dead bodies outside my house--"
"Just answer the simple, vitally important question," Rodney grated out the words.
Liam did an eye-rolling thing that in that alien face was truly frightening. "I only need a tiny sample. And I don't use blood as a source of human genetic material anyway."
"Then what do you use?" Rodney asked pointedly.
Liam huffed. "Let's think. What's the best possible source of human genetic material that is endlessly renewable, painlessly obtainable, and makes you a lot of friends?"
John felt his jaw drop. Rodney winced, waving his free hand in the universal sign for too much information. "Oh, my God. That's disgusting enough to be true." He shook his head, mouth twisted. "Okay. We'll help you. What do you need?"
"What?" John stared at him. "McKay, are you out of your mind?"
"Why not? What other choice have we got?" Rodney glared frantically. "Stop looking at me like that! It's this wide-eyed, tragic, 'Oh God, we're trapped on a Wraith ship and Rodney's insane.' Now it's worse!"
"I just need a distraction." Liam looked at the corridor, wringing its hands. "I can't get close to them -- I've been trying, but this form isn't exactly designed for combat. And do you have anything to cut with?"
Rodney started searching his pockets as best he could. "Major--"
"Son of a bitch, fine, fine, okay!" John held up the little knife. "This is our only weapon and you want me to give it the alien thing -- guy -- whatever?"
"Yes!" Rodney snarled, "And don't make it sound like such a stupid idea, and that's a crappy weapon!"
Liam twisted to face the corridor, weirdly graceful in this body. "They're coming back! Just make a decision, can't you?"
"This sucks," John said, mostly to himself. "Here, take it." He tossed Liam the knife and added, "McKay, play dead."
Liam snatched the knife out of the air, lightning quick, and leapt for the ceiling. Rodney, maddeningly at this point, whispered, "Are you sure?"
"Yes, dammit," John snapped.
Rodney slumped back, feigning unconsciousness, just before the Wraith stepped around the corner. There were two of them, a male and a big masked drone. And the plan goes to hell already, John thought, rolling his eyes. Liam would hardly be able to stab one with the other looking on.
The male Wraith leaned down and grabbed John's arm, ripping him out of the rest of the webbing as if it was insubstantial cobweb and nearly dislocating his shoulder in the process. John threw a punch at it and the slap he got in return rocked his head back so hard his eyes nearly crossed. The backhand follow-up made his knees buckle and it caught him by the hair, yanking him off his feet. He clawed at its arm, kicked furiously, but it dragged him down the corridor, the drone following.
He got a brief view of the bigger chamber where they were webbing up the Enarians, like a brief glimpse of hell. The walls were covered with webbed forms, trapped and cocooned, but there were about twenty people backed into a corner by three Wraith drones with stunners. There were more people sprawled on the floor, still semi-conscious from the culling beam. John fought harder, trying to see more, on the off chance that Teyla or Ford was among them. He got punched in the head again and spent the rest of the short trip bumping along the floor and seeing stars.
Through another door, down a short corridor and into another smaller chamber. John got a glimpse of a table made of the same dark rubbery material as the walls, then the Wraith flung him across the room. He bounced off a wall and hit the floor. Stunned, tasting blood from a bitten lip, John managed to push himself up on his hands and knees. He heard the Wraith say, "This one came with the Lantian ship."
He lifted his head. There was another drone in the room, guarding a woman huddled against the wall. Blinking to clear his vision, John recognized Biel. Her robe was torn, hair tumbled over her face, her expression terrified. She stared at John for a moment, then said, "No, no." She shook her head furiously. "No one came with the ship, it's old, it's always been there."
The drone reached down for her and John said quickly, "I was with the ship."
The Wraith hissed in satisfaction. "That creature. Where did it come from?"
"I'll tell you, but not in front of them," John said, and thought, this plan really couldn't be any worse. If Liam had even followed him down here, it still might not attack the Wraith, even if John could get the drones sent away. This was a terrible plan hinging on the whim of a demented blue alien shapechanger and John knew he was going to die without even being able to tell Rodney "I told you so."
The Wraith apparently thought humans were just this stupid. It looked at the drones. One grabbed Biel's arm, dragging her up as they left. Biel looked back at John, baffled and frightened, before she was jerked out of the room. Then the Wraith said, "The creature?"
John looked up at it, giving it a puzzled expression. "What creature?"
The Wraith grabbed him by the throat, yanking him upright and slamming him down on his back on the table.
It was holding him just hard enough to restrict his air but not crush the life out of him. He clawed at its hand, tried to kick it in the chest and it caught his leg under the knee, holding him easily. It said, "You brought it on the Lantian ship."
"What ship?" John managed to gasp. The Wraith must teach classes in how to strangle just hard enough without actually crushing the life out of their prey. They all seemed to have the same technique.
Its lips curled back in that Wraith imitation of a smile, revealing sharp teeth. "Defiance tastes sweet, better than fear."
"Do you have a different 'I'm going to eat you' speech because I hear that one a--" It turned into a wheeze as John's air was cut off again.
"Tell me where that creature came from."
Then a big blue shape leapt on its back, sinking John's knife into its throat. The Wraith snarled and spared one hand to fling it off. Liam flew across the room and slammed into the wall with a loud splat, falling out of John's field of vision. The Wraith stared after it with an expression of baffled rage, the wound on its neck barely bleeding. John wrenched his other leg free and kicked it in the face, struggling to reach the stunner at its belt.
It turned back, slapping his hands away. Its grip on his throat tightened and it planted a hand on his chest.
Then another Wraith appeared behind it, snatching the stunner out of its holster. It twisted, snarling, just in time to get the blast in its face.
John rolled off the table and hit the floor as the Wraith -- the real Wraith -- collapsed.
John couldn't look up for a moment, coughing to re-inflate his lungs. When he managed to lift his head, Liam was looking around the little compartment, tearing shrouds aside, poking at the walls. He could tell it was Liam by the fluttery body language, as at odds with the Wraith body as it had been with the human and the blue goblin thing. It said frantically, "They don't have any weapons in here. Stupid creatures. What do they do if someone tries to take over their ship?" It glanced around as John staggered to his feet. "How do I look?"
John grabbed the table to keep himself upright. "Like a Wraith." When Liam stood still, it was uncanny. Liam was even dressed like the Wraith now sprawled on the floor. John couldn't tell if it was all physical, or all illusion, or what. The other difference was in the eyes. They were the right color, the right shape for a Wraith, but there was too much expression.
Liam said, "Well, it's not any more amenable from the inside, believe me, so let's hurry."
John spat blood out on the table, wiped his mouth, and said, "We need to get back to McKay, then take over the bridge. If they have any kind of intruder control system, it'll be up there."
"Oh, that's a good idea." Liam brightened, and it was beyond weird to see actual expressions on a Wraith's face.
John stared at it. "What, you didn't have a plan?"
Liam planted its hands on its hips. "I'm a toba root farmer, not a space pirate. This," it gestured to itself, "was the plan."
"Oh, good." John pushed off from the table. That was just the icing on the cake. He eyed the stunner that Liam was waving around, but they wouldn't look very convincing if John was carrying it. "Let's go."
Out in the corridor, John had to say, "You should drag me, in case one of them sees us."
"Oh, right. And you should struggle more. Ow, ow, not that much!"
"For a Wraith, you're kind of a wimp," John felt compelled to point out.
"Excuse me, I'm seven hundred vesters old and I haven't done this sort of thing in a long time."
John had yet another a bad feeling about this. "How old is that in human years?"
"Let's say I'm the equivalent of your great-grandfather, poppet, so don't get too rough."
Fantastic. We can't run into an alien shapechanger with superpowers; we have to find one who's retired, geriatric, and a little nuts. They were getting near the hold area again. The screaming hadn't died down any. "What happens if you get stunned?"
"I'll lose cohesion." Liam peered around the corner with an exaggerated caution that was straight out of a Keystone Cops routine. "I assume they aren't going to be so stupid about it if it happens again. The first time they just left me in a puddle on the floor. These creatures have no scientific curiosity. Fortunately."
Fortunately is right. John gritted his teeth. "Try to look confident, take long steps, don't stop."
One of the drones glanced at them as they passed. John dragged his feet and tried to seem dazed. Fortunately, he didn't have to fake looking like a Wraith had just beat the shit out of him. He caught a glimpse of Biel huddled with the others, saw her eyes widen, startled and hopeful, then she quickly looked away. She recognized him, John thought, startled. It was confirmation that Liam wasn't lying, that the Enarians had known what he was. And also confirmation that Liam made the most unconvincing Wraith possible.
As soon as they were in the corridor John couldn't stand it anymore and took charge of the stunner. Liam handed it over willingly, adding, "I'm not very good with firearms."
Somehow that wasn't a surprise.
They reached the right room and John whispered, "Rodney."
"Major?" Rodney sat up, peering uncertainly in the dark. He had managed to free himself from more of the webbing. "Oh God, is that--"
"Yes, it's me," Liam said, hovering anxiously in the corridor. "I thought we'd established that."
Rodney stared, squinting in the dark. "It worked. I never thought it would work, I thought--"
"I wasn't real confident either," John told him, dropping to his knees to tear at the rest of the web.
"Oh, please feel free to critique my performance," Liam contributed.
"Your voice is wrong," Rodney pointed out immediately, wrenching a leg free of the webbing. "You don't sound like a Wraith."
"I don't?" Liam stared at him.
"You can't tell? You sound like you're auditioning for an amateur drag show."
Liam said, snippily, "I'm assuming that's not a compliment. I register sound in a different way from humans, so I supposed my voice has never been normal; of course, no one's ever been rude enough to mention it before--"
John suppressed an urge to shoot both of them and just said, "Shut up."
"Are you talking to me or--"
"Rodney!"
He got Rodney free and helped him to his feet. Liam was saying, "The Wraith send these ships out to report on feeding grounds. From the look of it, the hold was almost empty of humans before they grabbed all of us, so this is probably a resupply stop."
"Then they saw the jumper when we uncloaked it and decided to make a party of it." John hadn't missed the fact that Liam had actually included itself as a human there. But after so many years, maybe the distinctions started to blur. "Do you know where the bridge is?"
"I'm fairly certain it's up this way." Liam wandered a little vaguely off down the corridor.
"He's fairly certain," Rodney echoed, sounding simultaneously horrified and annoyed. "He's been running around the ship for an hour, how could he not know--"
John caught Rodney's arm. "The way he's doing these changes, that's not physically possible, right? Is it an illusion?"
Rodney shook his head. "I don't think so. And I don't think it's a biological phenomenon, like a chameleon changing its skin color. I think he's actually rearranging matter in the space occupied by his body. His species must have been incredibly powerful."
John moved to catch up with Liam, who was flattened up against the wall at the next corner, apparently trying to figure out a way to peer around it. "I'm not sure I can buy that right now. Maybe later."
Continued in Part II
Author:
ltljRating: PG13
Pairing: none -- Sheppard, Rodney, Teyla, Ford
Spoilers: mild ones for first season only
Disclaimer: Don't own anything, no money made.
Challenge: First Contact, for the Amnesty Challenge
Summary: The team meets an alien who may or may not be helpful. There are misunderstandings, and Wraith.
Note: This is too big for one post, so this is part 1 of 2.
Sitting in the jumper's cockpit, hovering above the open hatch down to the gate room, John really wished he had kept his mouth shut at the briefing. He didn't wish that often; not keeping his mouth shut was a lifestyle choice and he had made peace with the consequences a long time ago. But they had been in Atlantis for several months now, everybody had seen all the movies, read all the books -- those brought along as legitimate personal items and the ones smuggled in as files buried in databases -- and the only new entertainment was in torturing each other, and John had apparently volunteered for the barrel this morning.
From the jump seat behind him, in the voice he used when he was pretending to be reasonable, Rodney was saying, "Listen, I know you're xenophobic, and it's hardly surprising--"
"I am not xenophobic," John said, and tapped his headset. "Flight, Jumper One is go for launch."
The conversation had started that morning when Elizabeth had mentioned the linguistics team's research into some writing the archeologists had found on MX2-377. She had said the figures weren't similar to anything they had seen before, Ancient or human, and it could be a vaguely hopeful sign indicating that they might encounter even more kinds of sentient alien life here. John had said that he thought they had already encountered too much alien life as it was. Elizabeth had retorted that some allies like the Asgard wouldn't hurt, and Teyla had asked what they looked like. While Elizabeth was finding some images on her laptop, John had made the mistake of describing them as "creepy little gray things, about so high" which he was never going to hear the end of.
Rodney continued relentlessly, "--since if someone's first experience with an alien lifeform is getting stuck behind Teal'c in the commissary line at the SGC or seeing Thor drop in to visit O'Neill--"
John tried, "And this whole conversation is pointless, because even if there were Asgard in Pegasus, they would be--" he waved a hand vaguely "--their freak cannibal cousins who kill humans and wear our scalps for hats."
"Ouch," Ford commented.
Rodney hadn't paused for breath. "--it's obviously a vastly different effect on your perceptions than anything involving a hive ship and being pinned to a dinner table by a life-sucking vampire who wants to eat your entire species, but--"
"But they would not be cannibals," Teyla pointed out thoughtfully. "Since they are an entirely different species--"
"Yeah, not cannibals." Ford twisted around to look at her. "But the scalping thing would be--"
"--and you are the biggest xenophobe I've ever--"
"Shut up!" John shouted. "Not you, Flight; say again?"
"I said--" Peter Grodin's voice sounded fondly exasperated. "Jumper One is clear for launch. Good luck."
"Thanks, Flight. I'll need it."
It turned out John was right about that part.
***
The mission seemed to be going well for once. It was a gray rainy day on the planet, but the Enarian village was nestled in a valley between lush green forested hills and surrounded by acres of grain fields and vegetable gardens. The Athosians had never traded with the Enarians before, but they had heard good things about them from other trading partners, and it looked like, for once, the other trading partners had been right. This was fantastic, because Atlantis really needed the food.
First, the big crop of tava the Athosians had been expecting to harvest had been suddenly destroyed by the mainland's equivalent of locusts. It was part of the hit and miss aspect of trying to farm on an unfamiliar planet, and they would be prepared for it next year, but it had been a huge disappointment. It had actually caused Halling to lose his trademark Athosian resignation and stoicism long enough to swear and kick a water bucket. Then the big trading deal Stackhouse's team had scored with the Debians had fallen through when the town had been culled and the granaries had caught fire in the confusion afterward. They had decided to give the Debians the medical supplies anyway, because the survivors needed them so badly. Then Bates' team had been trying to bargain for a crop on Kelsa, only to discover that the only offer the Kelsans were interested in was what they could get for Bates and his Athosian trade advisor Selana on the local sex slave market. This had resulted in Bates and Selana bonding over beating the absolute crap out of a gang of overconfident Kelsans -- it had taken John the entire time he was gearing up to understand that they were scrambling backup not to break up a fight between Bates and Selana, but to get Bates and Selana out of a fight -- and team morale had apparently benefited from it overall. Kelsa had been firmly crossed off the list as a trading prospect, and Bates' science team advisor Dr. Baroukel had recommended locking it out of the dialing console, unless they had a deadly energy creature or an unstable naquadah generator they needed to get rid of.
All this had left Atlantis on rationing again, with only a month's supply of staples for the city and the Athosian encampment.
But it looked like this time they had actually scored. The Enarians had a high crop yield and often traded it for necessities and luxury goods they couldn't produce themselves. The village a few miles from the gate was accustomed to offworld visitors, and the people looked healthy and relatively happy, with kids playing in the muddy street and the little wooden thatched houses painted bright colors.
And nothing had gone wrong so far. The Enarians had responded well to the standard "we are peaceful explorers, allied with the Athosians" speech, and Teyla had seemed to develop an instant rapport with Biel, the village trade representative. John had managed to talk to the curious Enarians gathering in the street without accidentally propositioning anybody. Rodney had actually complimented the village. He had said the hovels are really kind of nice, and it doesn't smell bad at all but hey, compliment, and Biel had only heard the words "kind of nice." The Enarians were friendly, relaxed, and open, and actually seemed to like them. And to like them in a "let's cooperate" way and not in a "let's pretend to cooperate while making plans to rape and murder them and take all their stuff" way.
The conversations were reassuringly normal for a small agrarian community in the Pegasus Galaxy, about crops and the lousy weather, with everyone gathering around to ask if their visitors had seen much evidence of Wraith culling on the worlds they had visited. One of the women, seeing how charmed the village kids were with John and Ford, asked if they had any children, but it seemed like idle curiosity, not some kind of a test. "No, ma'am," Ford said, smiling as he watched a toddler gnawing determinedly on a rag doll. "The Athosians -- Teyla's people -- have kids, but they don't live with us." He added soberly, "It's not safe right now."
John's nerves were a little on edge, still waiting for some innocuous comment to turn everybody against them, but the Enarians had all just nodded in glum understanding.
John was still keeping an eye on one of the villagers. The guy had been staring at them intently, more with suspicion than the idle curiosity of the others, and there was something about him that was a little off. He was tall and gangly, with a fluffy mane of nearly white hair, and he was dressed in the white and yellow robes that many of the women were wearing, rather than the pants and smocks of the other men. He was watching them with such intensity that John was half-expecting him to whip out a weapon when the guy tripped and fell in the village fountain.
"That is our friend, Liam," Biel explained quickly. "He also came to us through the Ring of Travel."
John retreated out of splash range as Liam sloshed out of the stone basin and stood dripping in the mud. Wringing the water out of his robe, Liam said to Teyla, "I hope you don't have any stupid trading customs, because we don't do that sort of thing here."
"Liam, why don't you go and check on the baking," Biel interposed hastily, while Teyla was still stymied for a reply.
Liam huffed, gathered his robes and stalked off. John shifted his assessment from "potential danger" to "village character." And really, if the Enarians were nice enough to adopt awkward strays who came through the gate, it was another sign that they were good people to deal with.
"Liam is a little different," Biel explained, looking a bit worried.
"We are accustomed to differences among our people," Teyla assured her gently.
"Really," Rodney muttered, mostly absorbed in taking energy readings. "I don't recall any incompetent transvestites with head injuries in our little community. Of course, there's Dr. Pierce in Biology, but I certainly wouldn't call him incompetent--"
John gave Rodney's shoulder a squeeze and a friendly shake, and said, equally low-voiced, "If you screw this up by insulting someone, I'm going to give you a head injury."
Rodney snorted in annoyance. "Please, my head is too valuable and you know it. Threaten something else if you want to be convincing."
Before John could move on to a better threat, Ford leaned in to ask incredulously, "Dr. Pierce is a man? Are you serious?" and the incident was forgotten.
After some initial bargaining in the street, Teyla and Biel and a few of the other women went into one of the huts to talk serious business. Apparently the only traditional custom they had regarding trading was that the women cut the deal while the men wandered around outside and goofed off. Anoch, the male village elder, showed them around a bit, and John relied heavily on Ford's ability to say things like "That's a really nice plow," with a straight face.
The first time Teyla emerged it was to inform John that the Enarians understood advanced technology, though they didn't have much left of it now. She had already made the tentative suggestion that the jumper could be used to haul any grain they traded for, and Biel had been enthusiastic at the idea.
"We used to have flying machines, too. And we had a big city over that way," Anoch explained, with a vague wave to the north. "It got blown up trying to fight off the last big Wraith culling, years and years ago, and now if anyone tries to live in it their skin falls off."
John lifted a brow at Rodney, who was already studying his equipment. Rodney waved a hand reassuringly. "I'm not picking up anything abnormal. The survivors of the original attack must have been highly aware of the minimum safe distance." Rodney frowned at the readout and asked Anoch sharply, "You don't use any technology now? No power sources?"
"No, not anymore. It's nice, and saves a lot of work," Anoch said regretfully. "But it does attract the Wraith."
"Yeah," John had to admit, "it really does."
More glum nods of agreement from the other villagers. "I'm getting an intermittent power reading," Rodney said, mostly to himself. "But it's not showing any of the characteristics of a ZPM field. It's almost a negligible amount of output. Huh. It might be something left over from the outlying support network for one of their cities...."
"Yeah, get right on that," John told him, as Rodney wandered off down the street, muttering to himself.
When it became clear that nothing more exciting was going to happen than Teyla and Biel hammering out the details of the trade, most of the village left to go back to their fields. Only the older men and women who watched the younger children or worked at crafts like pottery and weaving stayed behind. Anoch reappeared and sidled up to John and Ford with a jug of something he called mead. John didn't really think the old guy was up to anything, but after The Incident on M3X-587, they had all sworn off trying the local rotgut. "Uh, thanks, but we can't," John said, smiling politely as Ford backed warily away. He jerked his head in Teyla's general direction. "Duty, you know."
"Right, I know what you mean," Anoch said, casting a glance around to make sure none of the women were watching before he knocked back a snort.
Teyla came out later to give John a handful of dried arum kernels to inspect. Biel and two other Enarian women waited politely out of earshot, watching anxiously. This was a bargaining technique Teyla used when the occasion warranted it, casting John as the bad cop whose approval she had to get in order to make the deal. John wasn't sure Biel was buying it, but she looked happy enough to go through the motions. "Looks good," he told Teyla, keeping his expression mildly critical. "This is food, right?"
Teyla gave him an indulgent smile. "It can be boiled and eaten as it is, or ground into flour. Dried, it can last for many months, and is very nutritious. It is exactly what we need." She sounded highly satisfied with herself, and he suspected she had just come out here to brag. "The Enarians are much troubled by infections caused by injuries during the harvest and while hauling the grain. They are very interested in the antiseptics and topical antibiotics we can offer."
From her expression, John suspected she was cutting a deal that was going to make Elizabeth giddy with relief, Halling bust out a grin, and Bates seethe with jealousy. He smiled at her. "Go for it."
She nodded, mock-solemn, as the Enarian women bounced excitedly. She added thoughtfully, "I may have to throw in a knife-sharpener," and headed back inside with the others.
Ford leaned in to examine the multi-colored kernels, pointing out, "It looks like corn."
"It does." Their eyes met in speculation.
Ford's brows lifted. "You think it would pop like--"
"Maybe," John allowed cautiously. "Don't say anything to McKay. If it doesn't work, we'll never hear the end of it."
The next time Teyla stepped out for a status report, she had been in the process of locking down a deal for enough arum flour and toba root to get them through the next six months, plus seed for the Athosians to start their own crops. John sent Ford back to the jumper to dial into Atlantis and tell them to start moving the crates of the medical supplies the labs had manufactured for trade into the gate room. They had been invited to stay for dinner, and he was hoping to have the first shipments received and delivered before then.
Rodney wandered up at that point, having finally come out of his energy reading trance. John asked, "Find anything?"
"I had some more anomalous readings, but they're too erratic to track down." He grimaced in a preoccupied way, tapping the detector against his hand. "It could just be a scanning error."
John nodded solemnly. "Right, it must be the Ancient blinky tool at fault."
Rodney glared absently. "Whatever. Any chance we can wrap things up here in Hobbiton by the end of this century? I'm anxious to get past the standing around portion of our day and on into the exhausting manual labor part."
John lifted a brow. "If lifting a few crates and baskets of grain into a jumper is going to kill you--"
Rodney perked up. "Yes?"
"I'm sure the Enarians will be willing to spring for a nice funeral."
Rodney rolled his eyes. "Yes, and your oh-so-quirky sense of humor is usually why...."
He trailed off as Teyla came out of the hut. John knew immediately something was wrong. Her shoulders were tense and her face was grim. She crossed the muddy little plaza toward them with determined strides, and said, "The deal is ended, Major. Biel says they will not trade with us." She was fighting to keep her expression under control, but her voice was bitter and upset.
"What happened?" Rodney asked, startled. "Did they want something disgusting?" He frowned at John. "Did you accidentally offer to marry somebody again?"
"No! McKay, shut up." John looked down Teyla. "What's wrong?"
"I am not certain," Teyla said stiffly. Biel had come out of the hut after her and stood a short distance away, almost wringing her hands, looking as upset as Teyla. "I have offered as much of the medicines as the lab can produce."
"You want more?" John asked Biel. He hoped this was the Enarians' version of a bargaining tactic and Teyla was just taking it the wrong way. Except Teyla didn't take things the wrong way, ever. "We have to get the materials to make them, and it takes time--"
"No, no, the amount offered was more than generous." Biel shifted uncomfortably.
John was hyperaware of the other Enarians gathering around, but it didn't feel like an ambush. The few older people who had stayed for the trading all seemed as baffled by this development as John, and nobody was armed. Anoch was looking at Biel as if he thought she had gone completely crazy. John asked, "You want something else? Because we pretty much need everything else we have to survive." They had had people try bait and switch deals before, pretending to want the medical supplies only to ask for weapons at the last minute. After the Genii, they weren't making that mistake again.
Biel said hurriedly, "No, nothing like that."
"Okay." John felt like he was running out of options here. "Do you want proof that we have the drugs?" he tried, holding onto his patience with effort. "That they're good? Because we can arrange that."
Biel winced. "Again, that is very generous. It is just that...we cannot trade with you."
"But why?" Teyla asked, letting her frustration show. "I thought we had an understanding-- If there is something I have said that upset you--"
"No, it is nothing like that," Biel said quickly.
"So what changed, what did we do?" John asked, trying not to sound as desperate as he was beginning to feel.
Biel just shrugged miserably. "It is a question of...trust."
Teyla's eyes went hard. "Trust?"
"What, you don't trust us?" Rodney demanded. "All we're asking for is food and seeds. What do you think we're going to do with it besides eat it and plant it?"
"I am sorry," Biel said, and she did sound sorry, which was just that much more exasperating.
John tried his best to sound reasonable. "We've explained why we travel with weapons. The last trading trip our people went on, they almost ended up being sold as slaves." He added, "Look, just tell us what you want, and we'll see what we can do."
"I am sorry," Biel repeated, avoiding his eyes, "But there can be no agreement. That is our final answer."
It looked final. The others were still obviously puzzled but nobody broke ranks to argue with her. Feeling helpless, John swore under his breath. He exchanged a grim look with Teyla and said, "Right, let's go home." And tell them that Atlantis Recon-1 has snatched defeat from the jaws of victory once again. We suck at this. And he didn't have a fucking clue why.
"I am sorry," Teyla said suddenly, looking up at him. She still had her calm expression, but it didn't conceal her bitter disappointment. "I know you depend on my skills, and my people's trading contacts, and I feel I have failed--"
"It's not you," John told her. "Obviously. You didn't have these problems before you guys joined us--" He didn't want to have this conversation in front of the people who had just so abruptly shown them the door. He squeezed Teyla's shoulder. "Let's get out of here."
Biel took a step toward them. "Please, I hope this will not cause you trouble." She hesitated. "I know Anoch had invited you to eat with us, and if you still wish to stay...."
That was about all John could take at the moment. He gave her a bitter smile and said, "No, thanks. We need to get home so we can get started starving to death with the rest of our people. Bye," and started away.
They walked out of the village in silence and started down the hill, through the field of tall grass and scrubby trees. Rodney said, "Is it just me, or does it seem like we finally met normal people, and they rejected us out of hand?"
"It's not just you." John keyed his radio and said, "Ford, is the gate still open?"
Ford's reply came in a burst of static. "Yes, sir. I told them to get the--"
"Tell them to forget it, the deal's off. We're on our way back, we'll meet you at the jumper."
There was a brief silence, then Ford muttered, "Crap." Obviously deciding that questions wouldn't be welcome at the moment, he added, "Yes, sir."
John signed off. Teyla shook her head wearily, saying, "I have never had a negotiation fail at such a point before. It is...discouraging."
"It just came out of nowhere?" John asked.
"We had agreed on the trade almost immediately, and the discussion only concerned amounts and when deliveries would occur. It was very casual -- or at least it seemed so. Biel left the room several times." Teyla added grimly, "There must have been a conversation that I was not privy to."
"Are you sure you didn't do anything?" Rodney asked John suspiciously.
"I'm sure." John glared at him. "Did you insult anybody?"
"Oh please, of course not. I was working on that energy reading. No one even said anything to me. I suppose they could tell I was busy." He threw a look back over his shoulder, his mouth twisted. The village was almost obscured by trees and the tall grasses lining the path now. "They were very polite."
He was right, they had been polite. And not fake creepy polite, like the Genii. John shook his head. If they couldn't even manage a deal with the people who practically ran the supermarket for this part of the Pegasus Galaxy, he didn't know what the hell they were going to do.
Running footsteps sounded behind them on the path and John and Teyla spun, lifting their P-90s. Rodney fell back a step, dropping a hand to his sidearm.
It was the weird gangly guy, Liam. He slid to an uncoordinated halt, lifting his hands. "Easy, easy. It must be obvious I'm unarmed," he said huffily.
John eyed him narrowly, though he had trouble imagining that the Enarians had sent the village eccentric to kill them. "What do you want?"
Liam countered with, "Why didn't you say you were Lantians?"
Okay, that's a surprise. John said carefully, "Because we're not Lantians."
Liam gestured airily. "You've got a Lantian ship. Even if you stole it, which I suppose you must have--"
Teyla said, "We are not thieves." Her voice was like icy granite. Athosians took accusations of stealing only slightly less serious than accusations of cooperating with the Wraith, and Teyla was having a really lousy day. "And we have wasted enough time with people who pretend to want a trading agreement only to change their minds like fickle children. Say what you came to say plainly, please, so we may go in peace."
Liam at least looked guilty. He said defensively, "Only Lantians can use Lantian technology."
Teyla lifted a brow, her expression shifting from grim to speculative. John exchanged a look with Rodney. They were all thinking the same thing, and Rodney really wanted to blurt it out and demand an answer now. John stared him down, willing him to keep his mouth shut, and Rodney subsided with a glare and a strangled "humph."
John looked at Liam deliberately. "We told you, we're peaceful explorers. The Lantians lived on the planet we originally came from, a long time ago. That's why we can use their ships."
"Oh." Liam did a little flouncing thing that made it very difficult to view him as a potential danger. "Why didn't you say so, then?"
"I don't know. Maybe because nobody asked?"
Teyla began, "Is that why you--" She froze for an instant, her eyes going wide. "Wraith."
"Close?" John scanned the sky, tapping his headset. "Ford, we've got Wraith. Ford?" Static was the only answer.
"Yes, very close," Teyla said, her hands tightening on the P-90 as she looked up at the cloudy sky.
"Oh, God." Rodney yanked the lifesigns detector out of his vest. "There are readings all around us, but I can't tell which are Wraith and which are Enarians."
It was at that point they noticed Liam had just pulled a device very similar to the lifesigns detector out of his robes. "I can't see the darts, but there's a ship in orbit--" Liam looked up and saw their expressions, which were startled, incredulous, and beginning to be very pissed off. He said brightly, "I suggest we run now, and debate this later."
"Go," John said grimly and they ran for the trees. Liam bolted the other way, back toward the village, bellowing a warning.
"That scanner he had was Ancient," Rodney panted. "That explains the intermittent reading I was picking up--"
"Later," John said. Then he heard the culling beam. He yelled a warning, shoved Rodney sideways, and that was the last thing he remembered.
***
John woke to people screaming. He blinked, staring at a dark ceiling arching overhead, draped with shrouds and strands of web. The sick stench of death and rot was heavy in the damp air and he felt the tingling numbness in his arms and legs that meant he had been hit with a Wraith stunner. Sticky strands of something was stuck to his arms and legs and the back of his head, tying him to the floor, resisting his first panicked jerk. He added all that up and said, with feeling, "Oh, crap."
"Major...."
"Rodney?" John made a huge effort, twisting to put as much torque into it as possible, and managed to rip his head free of the sticky web. He craned his neck, squinting to see. Rodney lay just a few feet away, moving sluggishly on the filthy floor. They were in a small dim room, off an open corridor. There were drapes of material like ragged skin, dark walls covered with a rubbery organic substance, the webs, two skeletons cocooned against the wall. Uh huh, John thought, there's really no mistaking where we are. "You okay?"
"No, actually. Where are--" John heard the moment when realization hit. Rodney's voice changed from dazed annoyance to pure dread. "Oh God."
"Rodney, don't panic--"
"That is the stupidest thing you've ever said," Rodney hissed, "because if there was ever, ever, a situation that called for panic--"
"Rodney, I need you not to panic," John said, gritting his teeth. There was no one else in this room with them, though he could hear ragged desperate screams and sobbing from down the corridor. He suppressed the impulse to yell for Teyla and Ford. Teyla had ducked in the other direction, and the beam might have missed her. Ford had been close to the gate, and could have escaped if he had had any warning at all.
John could feel the webbing on the skin of his throat, clinging like really disgusting and supernaturally strong spun sugar. He swallowed down a surge of terror and made himself say evenly, "Do you have a hand free?"
He heard Rodney take a deep sobbing breath. "No, I-- Wait, yes. I wasn't-- It's not stuck all the way, like they didn't finish."
"Try to get loose. Do you have any weapons?" John asked, concentrating every muscle on trying to rip his arm free. His tac vest, jacket, sidearm, and belt were gone, though he had the rest of his clothes. Wraith usually stripped their captives before webbing them up, and John had only seen people cocooned to walls and in cubbies, not on the floor. It was like they had been temporarily secured in the first handy spot, until the Wraith were finished with the others.
"No, no vest, no gun. Why aren't we-- You know." Rodney must have come to the same conclusion. His voice was shaky but he sounded focused, and John could see him wriggling to try to free himself. "It's like they just stuck us here out of the way. Why would they do that?"
"Uh." It was either because the Wraith wanted to question them, or because they were first up on the menu. Actually, it was probably both. But it was another indication that Teyla and Ford hadn't been captured, or they would be in here stuck to the floor too. "If they found the jumper--"
"Never mind, I don't want to know. The horrible possibilities are mounting up fast enough without--" Rodney gasped with effort and managed to lift his head. "--without any help."
There really shouldn't be this much screaming. John levered his arm up enough that he could look at his watch. "We've been out for almost an hour. Something's wrong. They should have finished cocooning everybody by now." He winced as the disjointed sobbing of someone down the corridor suddenly scaled up into a terrified shriek. "Everyone should be unconscious."
"Maybe they stopped for lunch. Oh, wait." Rodney's voice had a hysterical edge. "That would be us."
John got his arm loose up to the shoulder and dug in a pocket, finding the small folding knife the Wraith had overlooked. He managed to get it open and tried sawing at the webbing, but it was like trying to cut rope with plastic. He shoved the knife back in his pocket with a curse and went back to just tearing at the stuff. He said reasonably, "I prefer to think that something's gone wrong and--"
John caught a blue and white flash from the corridor as something tore down it, slamming aside webbing and ragged shrouds, going up the wall as it passed out of sight. Heavy footsteps shook the deck panels as two Wraith drones pounded after it. Stunner fire echoed down the corridor.
"Okay, you're right, something's wrong," Rodney whispered. "What the hell was that?"
"It wasn't human. It was on the ceiling." John freed his other arm and managed to wrench himself up into a sitting position. Some kind of animal got into the ship? That was a just a little too bizarre.
More stunner fire came from further away, muffled by distance and bulkheads. John caught another glimpse of movement and looked up in time to see the shrouds overhead tremble as something large crawled rapidly under them.
"Oh, great." John tore frantically at the webbing on his legs, keeping his eyes on the ceiling. With their luck it would be some kind of predator symbiotic to Wraith ships, like rats on a sailing ship. Something that fed on trapped humans.
Then a voice from the ceiling said, "It's me."
John froze. He looked at Rodney, who mouthed the words, "Did you hear that?"
John nodded, eyes on the shadows overhead, trying to see which one was talking to them.
Looking up, Rodney raised his voice slightly. "What?"
It landed on the floor between them with a light thump. Rodney made a strangled yelp and John jerked back so hard he almost managed to yank a leg free. It was big, bright blue, with a wild tangle of white hair, and it looked like a combination of goblin and the salt vampire from Star Trek, except it seemed to be wearing its skeleton on the outside.
It looked from John to Rodney and back, taking in their horrified expressions. "Oh, come on. I thought you were from an advanced culture!" It folded its arms, apparently offended.
"Oh, my God," Rodney said slowly. "That voice."
It said, "Yes, it's me. Liam. Oh, by the way, I'm not human. Happy now?"
"What the fuck are you?" John demanded. He couldn't even tell how it was talking. It had sucker pads where its mouth should be.
"As if the name of my species would make any difference." Liam shifted uncomfortably, his body language still vaguely human despite the wildly different anatomy. "Obviously, I can change my physical structure--"
"Like a werewolf." Okay, that wasn't the word John wanted.
"A shapechanger," Rodney corrected warily, managing to lever himself up on one elbow. "Shapeshifter. Whatever. Is everyone in the village like this?"
"Of course not! They're ordinary humans, like you, except apparently more intelligent." Liam waved its hands in the air agitatedly. It made a weird kind of sense. As a human Liam had been awkward in a way that had read as discomfort in his own body. But that hadn't been his body. "Now listen, I lost cohesion in the culling beam, so they didn't know what I was. I've been delaying them but this isn't a large ship and I can't keep it up forever. And we all want to get our people out of here before we're all eaten, correct?"
Rodney threw a look at John, who agreed cautiously, "Right."
Liam fixed its inhuman eyes on the corridor, distinctly uncomfortable. It had eight-fingered hands, John realized, with little twisty feelers on each fingertip, which must have something to do with its ability to cling to the walls and ceiling. "I may be able to help bring that about, if I can get something from a Wraith."
John's eyes narrowed. It didn't sound like it -- he -- it was talking about a weapon. "Something like what?"
Liam made that fluttery gesture again, made very disturbing by the feelers. "Blood, preferably. Skin or even hair, though that will be more problematic--"
"You're talking about DNA. Genetic material," John said. He had the feeling he wasn't going to like where this was going.
"Oh." Liam sniffed, deflating a little. "You know what that is?"
"We're vaguely familiar with the concept, yes," Rodney prompted impatiently. "What are you going to do with it?"
"If I have a sample of their genetic material, I can turn into a Wraith." Liam nodded earnestly, as if this was a good thing.
John stared at Liam, then at Rodney. "Are we actually having this conversation?"
"Apparently so," Rodney agreed, his expression caught between academic interest and horror. "This is very surreal. It must think we're really stupid."
"How so?" Liam asked, apparently genuinely baffled.
"What do you mean, how--" John heard running in the corridor. "They're coming."
Liam made a muffled eek noise and leapt for the ceiling.
Rodney dropped his head and John flopped back down, just in time. He kept his eyes slitted open and watched two drones stalk past, heading the other way.
When they were gone, Liam dropped back to the floor. "So are you going to help me or not?" he demanded in a stage whisper that could probably be heard at the other end of the ship.
John levered himself up into a sitting position again. "Help you turn into a Wraith?" He just wanted to be clear on that point. "And what's going to stop you from eating us and joining them?"
Liam actually sputtered in outrage. "Moral principles, to start with! And I won't be anatomically correct, there's no point in that! Come on, I need your help!"
"I don't know if you've noticed," Rodney pointed out acidly, "but we're a little tied up right now."
"This isn't even a hive ship or cruiser, it's a small scout." Liam reached for the webbing on Rodney's legs and Rodney wrenched backward with a yelp.
"Get off," John snarled, stretching forward to knock its hands away.
"What's the problem?" Liam demanded impatiently.
"Are you serious?" Rodney said in exasperation, "The problem is, the only other person we've run into so far in this galaxy who recognized a puddlejumper and knew about Lantian technology was a ten thousand year old Wraith. Obviously you were using Ancient technology to scan us, causing the intermittent power readings I was picking up. And you were in the process of kicking us out of the Enarian village when this happened. Why should we trust you? And why do you need our help?" He gestured wildly, as best he could while still mostly stuck to the floor. "Why don't you just turn into something that can kill all the Wraith on the ship?"
John had been wondering about that, too. But Liam hissed, "Because I need genetic material! I've been living on Enar for the past hundred years and all I've got left is this, human, and strange tentacled creature from the bulroot swamp. It's a rather limited repertoire!"
John watched Liam narrowly. "Why were you with the Enarians?"
Liam sighed. "Long story short, my species was destroyed by the Wraith generations ago, I live with humans because I have no other choice, and can we just get on with it?"
"You needed human blood to look like a human," John persisted, "do you kill people to get it?"
"Yes, the people of Enar are so abysmally stupid that they never noticed the pile of dead bodies outside my house--"
"Just answer the simple, vitally important question," Rodney grated out the words.
Liam did an eye-rolling thing that in that alien face was truly frightening. "I only need a tiny sample. And I don't use blood as a source of human genetic material anyway."
"Then what do you use?" Rodney asked pointedly.
Liam huffed. "Let's think. What's the best possible source of human genetic material that is endlessly renewable, painlessly obtainable, and makes you a lot of friends?"
John felt his jaw drop. Rodney winced, waving his free hand in the universal sign for too much information. "Oh, my God. That's disgusting enough to be true." He shook his head, mouth twisted. "Okay. We'll help you. What do you need?"
"What?" John stared at him. "McKay, are you out of your mind?"
"Why not? What other choice have we got?" Rodney glared frantically. "Stop looking at me like that! It's this wide-eyed, tragic, 'Oh God, we're trapped on a Wraith ship and Rodney's insane.' Now it's worse!"
"I just need a distraction." Liam looked at the corridor, wringing its hands. "I can't get close to them -- I've been trying, but this form isn't exactly designed for combat. And do you have anything to cut with?"
Rodney started searching his pockets as best he could. "Major--"
"Son of a bitch, fine, fine, okay!" John held up the little knife. "This is our only weapon and you want me to give it the alien thing -- guy -- whatever?"
"Yes!" Rodney snarled, "And don't make it sound like such a stupid idea, and that's a crappy weapon!"
Liam twisted to face the corridor, weirdly graceful in this body. "They're coming back! Just make a decision, can't you?"
"This sucks," John said, mostly to himself. "Here, take it." He tossed Liam the knife and added, "McKay, play dead."
Liam snatched the knife out of the air, lightning quick, and leapt for the ceiling. Rodney, maddeningly at this point, whispered, "Are you sure?"
"Yes, dammit," John snapped.
Rodney slumped back, feigning unconsciousness, just before the Wraith stepped around the corner. There were two of them, a male and a big masked drone. And the plan goes to hell already, John thought, rolling his eyes. Liam would hardly be able to stab one with the other looking on.
The male Wraith leaned down and grabbed John's arm, ripping him out of the rest of the webbing as if it was insubstantial cobweb and nearly dislocating his shoulder in the process. John threw a punch at it and the slap he got in return rocked his head back so hard his eyes nearly crossed. The backhand follow-up made his knees buckle and it caught him by the hair, yanking him off his feet. He clawed at its arm, kicked furiously, but it dragged him down the corridor, the drone following.
He got a brief view of the bigger chamber where they were webbing up the Enarians, like a brief glimpse of hell. The walls were covered with webbed forms, trapped and cocooned, but there were about twenty people backed into a corner by three Wraith drones with stunners. There were more people sprawled on the floor, still semi-conscious from the culling beam. John fought harder, trying to see more, on the off chance that Teyla or Ford was among them. He got punched in the head again and spent the rest of the short trip bumping along the floor and seeing stars.
Through another door, down a short corridor and into another smaller chamber. John got a glimpse of a table made of the same dark rubbery material as the walls, then the Wraith flung him across the room. He bounced off a wall and hit the floor. Stunned, tasting blood from a bitten lip, John managed to push himself up on his hands and knees. He heard the Wraith say, "This one came with the Lantian ship."
He lifted his head. There was another drone in the room, guarding a woman huddled against the wall. Blinking to clear his vision, John recognized Biel. Her robe was torn, hair tumbled over her face, her expression terrified. She stared at John for a moment, then said, "No, no." She shook her head furiously. "No one came with the ship, it's old, it's always been there."
The drone reached down for her and John said quickly, "I was with the ship."
The Wraith hissed in satisfaction. "That creature. Where did it come from?"
"I'll tell you, but not in front of them," John said, and thought, this plan really couldn't be any worse. If Liam had even followed him down here, it still might not attack the Wraith, even if John could get the drones sent away. This was a terrible plan hinging on the whim of a demented blue alien shapechanger and John knew he was going to die without even being able to tell Rodney "I told you so."
The Wraith apparently thought humans were just this stupid. It looked at the drones. One grabbed Biel's arm, dragging her up as they left. Biel looked back at John, baffled and frightened, before she was jerked out of the room. Then the Wraith said, "The creature?"
John looked up at it, giving it a puzzled expression. "What creature?"
The Wraith grabbed him by the throat, yanking him upright and slamming him down on his back on the table.
It was holding him just hard enough to restrict his air but not crush the life out of him. He clawed at its hand, tried to kick it in the chest and it caught his leg under the knee, holding him easily. It said, "You brought it on the Lantian ship."
"What ship?" John managed to gasp. The Wraith must teach classes in how to strangle just hard enough without actually crushing the life out of their prey. They all seemed to have the same technique.
Its lips curled back in that Wraith imitation of a smile, revealing sharp teeth. "Defiance tastes sweet, better than fear."
"Do you have a different 'I'm going to eat you' speech because I hear that one a--" It turned into a wheeze as John's air was cut off again.
"Tell me where that creature came from."
Then a big blue shape leapt on its back, sinking John's knife into its throat. The Wraith snarled and spared one hand to fling it off. Liam flew across the room and slammed into the wall with a loud splat, falling out of John's field of vision. The Wraith stared after it with an expression of baffled rage, the wound on its neck barely bleeding. John wrenched his other leg free and kicked it in the face, struggling to reach the stunner at its belt.
It turned back, slapping his hands away. Its grip on his throat tightened and it planted a hand on his chest.
Then another Wraith appeared behind it, snatching the stunner out of its holster. It twisted, snarling, just in time to get the blast in its face.
John rolled off the table and hit the floor as the Wraith -- the real Wraith -- collapsed.
John couldn't look up for a moment, coughing to re-inflate his lungs. When he managed to lift his head, Liam was looking around the little compartment, tearing shrouds aside, poking at the walls. He could tell it was Liam by the fluttery body language, as at odds with the Wraith body as it had been with the human and the blue goblin thing. It said frantically, "They don't have any weapons in here. Stupid creatures. What do they do if someone tries to take over their ship?" It glanced around as John staggered to his feet. "How do I look?"
John grabbed the table to keep himself upright. "Like a Wraith." When Liam stood still, it was uncanny. Liam was even dressed like the Wraith now sprawled on the floor. John couldn't tell if it was all physical, or all illusion, or what. The other difference was in the eyes. They were the right color, the right shape for a Wraith, but there was too much expression.
Liam said, "Well, it's not any more amenable from the inside, believe me, so let's hurry."
John spat blood out on the table, wiped his mouth, and said, "We need to get back to McKay, then take over the bridge. If they have any kind of intruder control system, it'll be up there."
"Oh, that's a good idea." Liam brightened, and it was beyond weird to see actual expressions on a Wraith's face.
John stared at it. "What, you didn't have a plan?"
Liam planted its hands on its hips. "I'm a toba root farmer, not a space pirate. This," it gestured to itself, "was the plan."
"Oh, good." John pushed off from the table. That was just the icing on the cake. He eyed the stunner that Liam was waving around, but they wouldn't look very convincing if John was carrying it. "Let's go."
Out in the corridor, John had to say, "You should drag me, in case one of them sees us."
"Oh, right. And you should struggle more. Ow, ow, not that much!"
"For a Wraith, you're kind of a wimp," John felt compelled to point out.
"Excuse me, I'm seven hundred vesters old and I haven't done this sort of thing in a long time."
John had yet another a bad feeling about this. "How old is that in human years?"
"Let's say I'm the equivalent of your great-grandfather, poppet, so don't get too rough."
Fantastic. We can't run into an alien shapechanger with superpowers; we have to find one who's retired, geriatric, and a little nuts. They were getting near the hold area again. The screaming hadn't died down any. "What happens if you get stunned?"
"I'll lose cohesion." Liam peered around the corner with an exaggerated caution that was straight out of a Keystone Cops routine. "I assume they aren't going to be so stupid about it if it happens again. The first time they just left me in a puddle on the floor. These creatures have no scientific curiosity. Fortunately."
Fortunately is right. John gritted his teeth. "Try to look confident, take long steps, don't stop."
One of the drones glanced at them as they passed. John dragged his feet and tried to seem dazed. Fortunately, he didn't have to fake looking like a Wraith had just beat the shit out of him. He caught a glimpse of Biel huddled with the others, saw her eyes widen, startled and hopeful, then she quickly looked away. She recognized him, John thought, startled. It was confirmation that Liam wasn't lying, that the Enarians had known what he was. And also confirmation that Liam made the most unconvincing Wraith possible.
As soon as they were in the corridor John couldn't stand it anymore and took charge of the stunner. Liam handed it over willingly, adding, "I'm not very good with firearms."
Somehow that wasn't a surprise.
They reached the right room and John whispered, "Rodney."
"Major?" Rodney sat up, peering uncertainly in the dark. He had managed to free himself from more of the webbing. "Oh God, is that--"
"Yes, it's me," Liam said, hovering anxiously in the corridor. "I thought we'd established that."
Rodney stared, squinting in the dark. "It worked. I never thought it would work, I thought--"
"I wasn't real confident either," John told him, dropping to his knees to tear at the rest of the web.
"Oh, please feel free to critique my performance," Liam contributed.
"Your voice is wrong," Rodney pointed out immediately, wrenching a leg free of the webbing. "You don't sound like a Wraith."
"I don't?" Liam stared at him.
"You can't tell? You sound like you're auditioning for an amateur drag show."
Liam said, snippily, "I'm assuming that's not a compliment. I register sound in a different way from humans, so I supposed my voice has never been normal; of course, no one's ever been rude enough to mention it before--"
John suppressed an urge to shoot both of them and just said, "Shut up."
"Are you talking to me or--"
"Rodney!"
He got Rodney free and helped him to his feet. Liam was saying, "The Wraith send these ships out to report on feeding grounds. From the look of it, the hold was almost empty of humans before they grabbed all of us, so this is probably a resupply stop."
"Then they saw the jumper when we uncloaked it and decided to make a party of it." John hadn't missed the fact that Liam had actually included itself as a human there. But after so many years, maybe the distinctions started to blur. "Do you know where the bridge is?"
"I'm fairly certain it's up this way." Liam wandered a little vaguely off down the corridor.
"He's fairly certain," Rodney echoed, sounding simultaneously horrified and annoyed. "He's been running around the ship for an hour, how could he not know--"
John caught Rodney's arm. "The way he's doing these changes, that's not physically possible, right? Is it an illusion?"
Rodney shook his head. "I don't think so. And I don't think it's a biological phenomenon, like a chameleon changing its skin color. I think he's actually rearranging matter in the space occupied by his body. His species must have been incredibly powerful."
John moved to catch up with Liam, who was flattened up against the wall at the next corner, apparently trying to figure out a way to peer around it. "I'm not sure I can buy that right now. Maybe later."
Continued in Part II
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2005-12-29 07:04 pm (UTC)lifestyle choice, oh my god. John. *dies laughing*
(no subject)
Date: 2005-12-30 03:20 am (UTC)>John gave Rodney's shoulder a squeeze and a friendly shake, and said, equally low-voiced, "If you screw this up by insulting someone, I'm going to give you a head injury."
Rodney snorted in annoyance. "Please, my head is too valuable and you know it. Threaten something else if you want to be convincing."
Before John could move on to a better threat, Ford leaned in to ask incredulously, "Dr. Pierce is a man? Are you serious?" and the incident was forgotten.
After some initial bargaining in the street, Teyla and Biel and a few of the other women went into one of the huts to talk serious business. Apparently the only traditional custom they had regarding trading was that the women cut the deal while the men wandered around outside and goofed off. Anoch, the male village elder, showed them around a bit, and John relied heavily on Ford's ability to say things like "That's a really nice plow," with a straight face.<
This whole section cracked me up. I love your John's voice.
(no subject)
Date: 2005-12-30 05:24 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-12-30 04:16 pm (UTC)