Casualties of war

Chapter two

"Rise and shine, campers." Strolling into the control room, John dropped his field vest beside the dialing computer. "It's a beautiful day in the neighborhood."

"By whose criteria?" Rodney muttered, head propped on his elbow, which in turn was propped on the database console. Elizabeth hid a sympathetic smile, knowing it would only encourage him. She'd already heard his tale of woe regarding a power fluctuation in the labs that had taken, by his probably-inflated estimation, half the night to isolate and repair. But he'd gotten the mandatory eight hours of pre-mission `crew rest' and was bravely soldiering on. "And who put happy juice in your coffee?"

"I'm high on life," John replied amiably. "It's mission day. I'm always in a good mood until somebody starts shooting at me."

"And this time we have a chance of finding something to shoot back with." Ronon stepped into the room, one stride behind Teyla.

"That, too."

Elizabeth tried to clamp down on the twinge of unease their comments produced. She wasn't naive; she recognized that they couldn't afford to be pacifists out here. Diplomacy was a potent tool, but it held little power when one side had considerably more to gain by taking than talking. The Stargate program on Earth had been formed chiefly to combat the reach of the Goa'uld through any and all available means. This situation was no different.

Still, she'd always told herself that the expedition had a strong moral compass. Each time they went searching for guns instead of books or tools, she felt like their needle slipped a bit further off true north.

"All right, let's get started before one of you gets the urge to do jumping jacks or something." Rodney pushed himself off the console. "First things first. We have two gate options for P7L-418."

"Two Stargates?" Teyla's forehead creased. "I have not yet encountered a world with more than one."

"We have-Earth. Until a few years ago, that is." Their chief scientist appeared to lose focus for a moment. "It was quite a trick to move a gate like that and detonate it in deep space," he recalled somewhat wistfully. "I wasn't entirely confident that we could pull it off, especially under the time constraint, but with a 747, an X-302, and the briefest hyperspace window known to-"

"How about you tell us what's behind door number one and door number two, Monty?" John broke in.

His mouth snapping shut, Rodney glared and then waved a hand at Elizabeth. She supposed the gesture was meant as an invitation, though it easily could have meant I give up you deal with him.

"Yesterday morning, I helped Dr. Baker finish translating the main records relevant to P7L-418," she began, leaning over Rodney's shoulder to type a file request into the computer. The wall screen promptly came to life with a map of the star system, and she pointed to the two symbols superimposed over one planet. "There are two different gate markings. One's on the surface; the other's in orbit."

"So they had an alternate route for supplies or rein forcements." John nodded his understanding. "If the surface was overrun by the Wraith, they could escape in ships, and if there was a Wraith blockade, they could use the ground gate."

"Maybe." Rodney still sounded miffed about being yanked out of his nostalgia trip. "And if the Wraith got control of both gates?"

"Well, no plan's airtight."

"Which should we use?" Teyla asked.

"Ground gate," voted Ronon. When the others gave him odd looks, he shrugged. "The facility we're looking for is on the planet, right? Saves time."

"The database suggests that the research facility is located close to the gate, like we'd expect," Elizabeth agreed. "There's another reason to favor the ground gate, though. According to the records, the space gate was damaged. Some heavy fighting took place in its vicinity near the end of the battle, and a number of ships, both fighters and larger craft, were left derelict."

"An orbiting boneyard," John commented. "Might be worth taking a look around at some point. But as a general rule, don't use the other gate unless you're prepared to dodge space junk."

"Or end up as scattered atoms courtesy of a gate malfunction," Rodney supplied matter-of-factly. "Since a planet's gate address is determined by its location relative to various stars, both of these gates necessarily must use the same address. When Earth had two functioning gates, there was a mishap or two involving travelers being sent to the wrong gate." His fingers tapped a sharp rhythm against the console. "However, the gate with the active DHD takes priority in the system. The database specifies that the ground gate's DHD remained connected, while presumably the space gate was only engaged by a jumper's DHD when required. Given the reported damage to the space gate, we're going to the ground gate whether we like it or not."

Teyla's gaze shifted from the screen to Elizabeth. "Did the records suggest that the planet was inhabited?"

"At the time of the battle, the facility employed hundreds of people," Elizabeth answered, "both Ancient researchers and human assistants. It's not clear whether or not everyone left when the facility was abandoned."

"In our experience, the Ancients have never been all that big on taking the hired help with them when they bail out of a place," John reminded them.

"True enough." Rodney stretched his arms up over his head. "Are we ready to send the MALP planet-side, then?"

"I'd say so." Elizabeth stood back from the dialing computer as he entered the address. In the room below, points of light chased each other around the immense ring, and the event horizon flooded into being.

The MALP operator, a young engineer, had gotten this particular assignment after three different people had approached Elizabeth with tales of his skill at the video games in the rec room. He manipulated the remote-controlled probe with ease, sending it through the puddle and rotating it in the tightest circle its bulk would allow as soon as the video feed appeared on the control room monitor.

"Pretty nondescript." John peered at the image, which appeared to show an open field. In the middle distance, off to the left of the gate, a stand of tall, arrow-straight trees rose into a gray sky. The ground was rocky, covered in places by scrub grasses. "Anybody home?"

"No sign of it so far," Rodney reported from just behind the engineer's shoulder, where he appeared to be backseat-driving the probe. "Take it twenty meters southwest. No, southwest relative to the MALP. Look, just-turn right and bring it around the side of the gate."

The image on the screen bounced as the MALP trundled along, eventually reaching the edge of a long, descending slope. Judging by the view, the gate appeared to be located on a rise. Partway down, a building was tucked in against the hill. Due to the distance and angle, the camera wasn't able to bring it completely into focus. Rodney straightened and glanced over at the rest of his team. "Well, there's a structure there, at least, but no energy readings. I'm loath to move much further in that direction, because the current perspective suggests uneven terrain. I'd rather not flip the MALP."

"Easy enough for us to check out, though," Ronon said. "Looks like a short hike."

Rodney spun toward him. "Now that you've brought it up, we need to discuss your definition of a `short hike.' Last time-"

John cut him off. "Rodney."

"I'm just saying, I get blisters."

Elizabeth watched the camera pan back across the unremarkable landscape and wished for some of her lost optimism back. Once, she had approached each new mission with a sense of eager anticipation, thinking of the knowledge they might uncover. Now, as often as not, her thoughts were dominated by the hazards they might face.

The International Oversight Authority had made it clear, after a hive ship had learned the location of Earth, that her decisions were being scrutinized-always after the fact, and from a galaxy away, but scrutinized. While.) ob security was hardly her first priority, she understood that the risks taken by the expedition had to be carefully managed. They took enough necessary risks out here that they couldn't afford to entertain any unnecessary ones.

But John was right. They couldn't simply cross their fingers and hope for a defense against their adversaries to fall into their laps.

"How's the atmosphere on the planet?" she asked Rodney.

"Breathable. Nothing in the way of toxins, radiation, et cetera. Temperature is a comfortable nineteen-"

"Sixty-six," John corrected under his breath.

"Must you do that?"

"Gentlemen." There were days, Elizabeth reflected, when working with her top advisors felt a lot like herding cats.

"And, last but certainly not least," Rodney continued as if he hadn't heard, "there's a DHD."

"All right." She looked at each team member in turn. "Does anyone foresee any other areas of concern for this mission?"

Ronon and Teyla shook their heads. Rodney pulled his pack onto his shoulder, while John crossed the room to retrieve his vest and P-90. "Elizabeth, I think the biggest concern we should have right now is the chance that we'll come up empty."

No excuses, then. "In that case, I guess you have a go." She caught her military commander's gaze and held it. "Be safe."

Teyla exited the gate with her weapon raised, visually sweeping the area. She often found that the small camera on the probe did not effectively convey to her a real sense of the planets they visited. Perhaps it was because she had lived most of her life without such pictures, but she did not find the same diversionary value in movies and television that the Earth team did. Colonel Sheppard and the Marines seemed enthralled whenever they received new recordings of sporting events, but she found their informal games on Atlantis far more entertaining, because their determination, their enthusiasm, was genuine and palpable. When watching a flat image on a screen, there was very little to feel.

Here, she had expected to find more depth of color than the N ALP screen had shown. In this case, however, the picture had been accurate. She could see that the forest surrounded two-thirds of the perimeter of the elevated plain, the ground sloping down to meet the trees. The remainder was open to a range of sizable mountains in the north, many miles away. To her left sat the gate's dialing pedestal, blending in with the muted grays and greens of the landscape.

Before long, Rodney had stowed his weapon in favor of a handheld scanner from his pack. "You're a trusting soul," John remarked, his P-90 still held at the ready.

"Not really," the scientist replied absently, focused on calibrating the scanner. "I figure I have the worst reflexes on the team, so if anything unpleasant pops up, any one of you is far more likely to take care of it before I can even aim.

He didn't see John's answering grin, but Teyla shared it. Trust came in many forms, after all.

"Keep your eyes open," John told them. "I'm gonna send the MALP home."

By unspoken agreement, she and Ronon took up positions on either side of the pedestal, watching the forest for any movement, as their team leader pressed the symbols of Atlantis's address.

John tapped his radio as soon as the wormhole was established. "Control, this is Sheppard. So far, so good. Go ahead and recall the MALP."

In response, the machine obligingly rolled toward the gate and vanished into a ripple of blue.

"MALP received," Elizabeth reported. "Good luck. Radio check in eight hours."

"Understood." John closed the connection and turned to Rodney. "Anything yet?"

"Maybe." Rodney checked his watch and then squinted at the readout. "I'm getting what looks like a hit for electromagnetic energy, but something's squirrelly."

"Squirrelly?" Even the other Earth native on the team looked bemused by his choice of words.

Waving a dismissive hand, Rodney clarified, "As in odd, bizarre, downright wrong. Look at your watch."

John obeyed. "09:12 Atlantis time."

"And it's still ticking, right? If these readings were correct, the second hand would have stopped dead as soon as we stepped out of the gate. The EM level's that high. Supposedly."

"Could your equipment be broken?" Ronon asked.

Rodney fixed him with a patronizing look. "Gosh, it never occurred to me to check that before leaving on a vital mission. Why don't you check your gun, too, just in case?"

"Settle down," John advised. "Is there any reason to think what you're reading could be dangerous?"

"No. Even if it were a legitimate result, it wouldn't hurt us, and most Ancient equipment is shielded from EM interference." Lifting his head, Rodney pointed toward the trees behind the gate, where the ground sloped away from them. "Unsurprisingly, the readings are coming from the direction of the structure located by the MALP, so we might as well head that way."

Continuing to keep watch as they walked south, Teyla raised her eyes to the slate-colored sky. As she glanced behind them, a sudden trail of light over the mountains drew her focus. "A starfall," she commented.

Turning, John followed the direction of her outstretched hand just before the light winked out. "On Earth, they say you're supposed to make a wish when you see a shooting star."

"Only mutant crickets say that," Rodney grumbled from the front of the group. Teyla didn't bother asking for an explanation of the peculiar statement.

John shook his head. "I bet you traumatized a lot of babysitters as a kid, Rodney."

"Only one. I was ten, and she couldn't figure out my trig workbook. I merely pointed out to her that I might have been better equipped to supervise her than vice versa." When Rodney finally deigned to glance up at the sky, he frowned. "Huh. You know, that might not have been a meteorite."

He swung his pack to the ground and hunted inside. "So-called falling stars are usually nothing more than chunks of rock, heated to the point of glowing as they fall through a planet's atmosphere," he explained, finally coming up with a pair of binoculars.

"I have seen a starfall before, Rodney." On occasion Teyla had to remind the scientist that she did not lack for knowledge simply because she had not gained it on his world.

"Not like this, I suspect." Rodney put the binoculars to his eyes. "The database suggested a fair amount of space junk remained in orbit after the battle."

Having already lifted his own viewing device, John gave a low whistle. "You're saying you think those are ships?"

"What's left of them. It's impossible to tell at this level of magnification, but it's likely." Rodney passed his binoculars to Teyla. She attempted to focus on a tiny dot high above them and could only make out an indistinct shape that might indeed have been a spacecraft.

"Might the second gate be among those ships?" she asked.

With a shake of his head, Rodney took his equipment back. "According to the database, the gate's in a geosynchronous orbit. From the ground it would appear to stay stationary over a specific point, one that happens to be a considerable distance away from here."

Ronon accepted John's binoculars and studied the sky for himself. "Guess they weren't kidding about this being a major battlefield."

"If those are ships, they're not going to come down on our heads in a fireball or anything, are they?" John asked warily.

"I think they're in too high an orbit. If we didn't have the highest-powered binoculars that taxpayer money can buy, we wouldn't even have been able to see them. What you saw falling earlier was probably a Dart." Rodney repacked the binoculars and slung the bag back onto his shoulder. "They've been up there for ten thousand years-they'll probably last another few hours. Besides, most of the mass would burn up and disperse in the atmosphere."

"Okay." John didn't sound entirely convinced, but he resumed walking. "Back to tracking some squirrelly EM readings."

Although the team remained on alert, the brief walk was rather pleasant. A cool breeze rippled the tree branches, and birds chattered musically overhead. Coarse grass brushed against Teyla's ankles as she moved across the ground.

Finding himself at the edge of the slope, Rodney glanced downward and stopped abruptly. "If that turns out to be what we came for, this'll be a bit anticlimactic."

Teyla looked below them to where the forest met the rising terrain and saw a building nestled against the foot of the ridge. Its architecture might have been Ancient, but it was small, hardly the size of Atlantis's gate-room.

"Maybe there were more buildings, and this is the only one left." John started down the hill.

"Hold up!" Rodney suddenly ordered.

Startled, John halted and pivoted to face him.

Bent over his scanner again, the scientist frowned. "Now this is just getting creepy."

"Want to explain?" asked Ronon.

"If I could, it wouldn't be creepy." Rodney scrubbed a hand through his short hair, clearly frustrated. "Something's messing with the scan. For a second there, it was showing a group of life signs set back in the forest, but only for a second. It's like the equivalent of getting a noisy signal, or static, or…something."

"Is the effect more pronounced now that we are closer to the building?" Teyla suggested.

"Hard to tell, but I think so. In any case, there's an easy way to find out." He motioned for the group to continue.

Teyla noticed that Ronon watched the forest more carefully while they made their way down the slope.

As they neared, the true state of the building became clear. The single-level structure was intact, but clearly damaged. Great gashes had been torn in the roof, and scorch marks marred the material that made up the walls. Teyla recognized the burn patterns; this was the work of Wraith Darts.

Making a circuit around the building, John reached out to touch a charred section of wall. "Feels like the same stuff we have on Atlantis," he said. "If this is the research facility…"

Ronon finished the thought. "The Wraith must have come back after it was abandoned."

"Question is, was that ten thousand years ago or ten days ago?" John bent to examine an errant piece of roof lying near the entrance, where the door was oddly undamaged. "I'm betting it was closer to the first option, but it'd be nice to know for sure."

A row of delicate flowers growing against one wall captured Teyla's attention. She looked closer and found them surrounded by freshly tilled soil. "Someone has been here recently," she called to the others. "Look at the ground."

"I doubt the Wraith are taking up gardening as a hobby," Rodney said.

"No, she's right." John adjusted his grip on his weapon ever so slightly. "If this area had been left alone for even a few years, it would be completely overgrown with plants by now. And we've see a few thousand years turn a hive ship into a mountain. Somebody's keeping this place up.

"Maybe they should have started by fixing the roof instead."

A soft click caused all of them to turn toward the door, which Ronon had opened. "Oh, great!" Rodney's eyes bulged. "Thank you for carefully considering the possibility of a booby-trap before going full speed ahead."

"Who would set a trap in a ruin?" Ronon retorted.

"I don't know-maybe the same type of person who does landscaping on ruins?"

"Well, it's open now, and we're still here," John said reasonably. "And we didn't come all this way just to take pictures for Better Homes and Gardens."

"I'll stand guard." Ronon took up a post by the door. As always, Teyla appreciated his instincts. The fleeting life signs Rodney had noted earlier had not strayed far from her mind.

Activating the flashlight on his P-90, John eased forward, Rodney close behind. Teyla entered the building last, her vision adjusting gradually. Some sunlight filtered through the damaged roof, but Rodney switched on a flashlight to improve matters.

As the light beams played over the room, Teyla felt a pang of disappointment. If there had been anything of value in this place, surely it was beyond recovery now.

Laboratory equipment and computers similar to the ones found in Atlantis were strewn across the floor in pieces. Long countertops had been ripped from the walls and splintered. One corner held a number of warped, sagging cabinets which must have been consumed by a fire.

John let out a long breath. "Damn," he said quietly. "I guess it was a long shot, but-"

"Don't start moping just yet." Rodney was still taking readings. "If this place is dead, why is my scanner going six kinds of crazy right now?" He crossed the room, stumbling only once over the rubble while continuing to track the elusive signals. "Aha-what do we have here?"

The back wall, which appeared to Teyla to be flush against the hill behind the structure, nevertheless contained two more doors: one with a standard handle, and one with no handle and a familiar-looking panel mounted beside it.

"At the risk of opening myself up to more Monty Hall jokes, there's something behind this door." A trace of excitement crept into Rodney's voice as he edged closer to the panel door. "I should have known. Why build a critically important facility out in the open if you don't have to?"

"You're saying there are more labs built into the hill?" asked John, his dejection fading.

"Significantly more, I suspect. Come here," Rodney told their team leader, jerking his head with an air of impatience. "Make yourself useful and give me some light. I only have two hands."

John rolled his eyes and acquiesced, each step crushing shards of glass under his boots. He took Rodney's flashlight and held it in one hand, directing the beam from his P-90 with the other. "I gotta say, nothing makes a guy appreciate his position on the Atlantis food chain like being ordered to hold a flashlight."

"Many people with more postgraduate degrees than you have gotten me coffee, Colonel Uppity." Rodney reached for the panel next to the first door. Before he could attempt to pry it open, the panel responded to his touch, sliding back to reveal an illuminated map.

"It still has power," John noted, turning off the flashlight and stuffing it back into Rodney's pack as the scientist studied the map. He reached for the handle of the other door and found it locked. "What do you suppose is behind this one?"

"A closet." Rodney dismissed the idea, focused on the panel. "Nothing technological. This one, on the other hand…"

"Is it possible this facility houses a ZPM?" Teyla wondered. Even though they had come in search of weapons technology, a ZPM would be a truly fortunate find.

"Not according to the scanner, but at this point I don't completely trust the scanner." Rodney's face split into a satisfied smile. "The extent of this place is incredible. There must be ten times more lab space concealed in the hill. If the structure was built into the hill purposely, rather than having ten millennia of dirt accumulated on top of it, the labs very well may have escaped the Wraith attack unscathed."

"That map looks like it belongs in a transporter." John leaned closer to inspect it and received an elbow to the ribs.

"Don't crowd me. I think that's precisely what this doorway is. It's just designed differently than the ones on Atlantis. Apparently here you have to choose your destination before you get in." Rodney considered his options carefully before touching his fingers to a location on the map.

Teyla waited for the door to open.

It did not.

"Perhaps it sustained damage," she suggested.

"It was working well enough to open the map for me." Rodney sounded mildly put out as he turned to John. "You try-see if it likes your blueblood gene any better."

With a half-shrug, John tapped the same area of the map Rodney had pressed, then another, and another. There was still no response. "Maybe putting the map outside the transporter instead of inside was a security feature. It'll only let you in if you're on the cleared list."

"That's…not an altogether ridiculous theory. In that case…" Fumbling in his pockets, Rodney retrieved a multifunction tool and ran his fingers down the wall below the map. He must have located an access point, because the tool slipped into a groove, and a neatly-organized rack of crystals and wires slid out toward him.

Cautious, Teyla watched from a few steps away as he reached toward the rack without hesitation. "Are you confident in your knowledge of such systems?" At his indignant stare, she explained, "You did say that this transporter is designed differently than those on Atlantis."

"The underlying principles are identical. Relax, Teyla. I'm fully confident."

"So what else is new?" muttered John, only to adopt an expression of innocence when Rodney spun toward him.

"Everyone's a comedian. Get that light down here."

Evidently choosing to withhold any further comment for the time being, John trained his weapon's light on the rack as Rodney reached into a mass of wires at the rear.

"It's really not brain surgery," Rodney commented as he worked. "Disconnect the power supply, remove the crystal that controls the security protocol, reconnect the power supply."

"And we know which crystal controls the security protocol?" John inquired.

"In fact we do." Rodney tugged a bundle of thick wires loose from its housing. The map immediately went dark. "Our transporters back home don't have this security feature, and I've memorized its crystal set. This set is identical-except there's an additional one here." With surprising dexterity, he rotated the dissimilar crystal and slid it free. Slipping it into a pocket on his vest, he then replaced the wire bundle, and the map lit up again. "There. What did I tell you?"

His faint smugness was lost on Teyla as she stared at the map panel with increasing concern. Seeing her reaction, John glanced down. "Uh, Rodney. .that thing was glowing blue before, wasn't it?"

"Of course it-" Rodney paled as he took in the map, now blazing red. "Crap."

An incandescent flash assaulted her, and then there was only darkness.