Act 3

"What the hell was that for?" Sheppard asked, a frown creasing his stinging face. Teyla started to raise her hand to slap him a third time, but he held out a hand between them. "Go ahead, if it makes you feel better, sure, slap me again, but just remember…. whatever it is that he did to piss you off – I'm not him."

"You cannot tell me," she said with an angry tilt to her head, her eyes flashing in his direction, "that you do not have the same feelings for your Teyla as John Sheppard claimed for me."

How does it feel, Colonel Sheppard, to know—?

"Look, Teyla," Sheppard said, raising his voice slightly to drown out the voice inside of him… the memory… and the inherent threat it carried. "Whatever he said—"

"He said nothing," she snarled. Her chin jutted forward as though challenging him to argue with her, to deny the truth of her words, "and did even less when I most needed his support!"

"Teyla—"

"Tell me," she demanded, "have you believed your Teyla's words. Have you tried to understand the struggle she faced; the bleak kernel of darkness and betrayal that sits in her soul?"

"Do I understand her compassion for Michael?" he asked, and then answering his own question, snapped, "No. Do I get the feelings he's made her think she has for him? No. Do I think that she needs someone to shake some sense into her? Hell yes! Michael's evil, Teyla, pure and simple. He's insane, unsupportable, irredeemable. There's no hope. Just shoot him like the rabid dog he is and—"

"And yet, she loves him," Teyla interrupted.

"She thinks she has feelings for him." He refused to acknowledge that what Teyla described as her feelings for Michael could, in any way, be called love. "He messed with her head, and now she doesn't even know which way is up. She doesn't love him. You know that. You—"

"What makes you think I do not feel the same way?"

Sheppard narrowed his eyes, and looked at her harshly for a moment that stretched away, longer than reality, before he said, "Everything you've done since I met you."

She looked at him – he decided that wasn't quite accurate – her eyes bore into him for a long time in the ever deepening silence between them. The look of strength and determination pulled at him, wrapped around his middle and made him want to do something very foolish – something which no doubt would have earned him another slap – and he checked himself even as he started to reach out for her.

"They came here first," she said softly, moving out through the doorway in such a way that invited him to follow. He did, almost compelled to hear her story. "As if having been taken by Michael had not been enough, my people had to suffer the punishment the Wraith visited upon them for the complicity with their alienated 'brother.' He knew what they intended… and he kept it from me."

"Your Sheppard?" Sheppard asked.

Teyla nodded, "All the while I had been sick with the after-effects of the birth of my son and all that had happened to me at Michael's hands, Sheppard had been negotiating with the Wraith he called Todd, to form an alliance with him and the queen he served."

"She told him to do that… betrayed him and used us to get at Michael," Sheppard answered.

"In your universe, perhaps," she said.

"Why not here?" Sheppard frowned, confused.

"Because here, Michael has that queen in his custody," she said simply. "When Todd colluded with Sheppard; when he formed the beginnings of his Wraith Alliance, he had no queen."

"…to know that it's me she calls for…"

…and for a moment his doubt flared.

"Because he came to Atlantis for me!" she cried, turning to him again with a painful expression on her face. "And all that befell there, all that has happened since, he does in my name."

**

The wind blowing across the edge of the Tower as she stood and watched the creature falling out of sight, felt the fading of the aberrant hiss from her mind, stung her eyes and made breathing difficult. It was a metaphor for the painful act she had just committed – even if it were not the true Michael she murdered.

…I know you are here… …show yourself…

"Teyla, come away from the edge," Kanaan said softly from behind her. She felt his arms come around her, almost capitulated to the warmth of them in her despair, but anger became louder at his touch and she pushed at him savagely.

"Let go of me!" She gave her anger voice and yelled into the wind. He had to let her go, or both of them would likely fall – though in that moment she would have welcomed it – perhaps that would have forced Michael's hand to revealing himself if nothing else. "How could you be so STUPI—?"

"Kanaan, Teyla, this is Lorne, come in please!" Major Lorne's voice sounding desperately in her ear cut off her angry revelation.

"Go ahead, Major," she said, still yelling, but this time only because of the wind.

"Get out of there!" Lorne cried, "A Wraith Hive and two Wraith cruisers just entered the upper atmosphere. There are hundreds of Darts currently—"

…at last…

She began to hear the whine of a Dart, but it was too dark, and the gathering storm too fierce for her to see in which direction it came. Still she turned one way and then the other, fighting once more against Kanaan who tried to pull her back inside the tower, until the tingling heat swept over her, and for a second there was blankness.

Her balance upset, she fell heavily to one knee, giving a small cry as the Hive Dart Bay coalesced around her… and the sight of booted feet came to a halt in front of her.

Even before she raised her eyes to meet those of the owner of the feet, she felt him strongly and welcome inside her mind.

"Michael," she said, almost as a fervent prayer.

"Hello, Teyla," he replied, and reached for her. His hands closed around her arms and drew her to her feet. She pulled herself free of his grasp and backed away, mostly though because she felt she should, than because she wanted to.

"How did you—"

"Your people are so careless with their technology. The ship I found on the Haradian home world provided me with a wealth of information and technology… and part of the key to infiltrating this base," he answered calmly, tilting his head as he looked at her. "You need not worry. So long as they cooperate, your friends are safe. You have my word."

"They will not allow you to take me, you know that," she told him, straightening up to look him full in the eye, trying to maintain her resolve against all that had happened since her return to Atlantis; all that she remembered of the one that now stood before her – her mind and heart at war.

"They do not have a choice," he told her, matter of fact. "Did they think that by allying with the Wraith they would weaken me? They may have forced me to destroy my facilities, and abandon much of my research, but they cannot – they cannot weaken my resolve. Make no mistake, Teyla, I am as strong now as I have ever been."

"I do not doubt you, Michael," she took half a step toward him, stretched out a hand almost appealing to him, "but you have to understand—"

"No, Teyla, you must understand… I am in control of Atlantis. As we speak my troops are moving into position, subduing the city once and for all," he told her, "preparing to deal with those who ended my life as I knew it – with their cooperation in a more fitting way than I dealt with Colonel Sheppard."

"You killed him?" she asked, a mix of feelings flooding into her – relief, sorrow, and a sense of regret that she felt from Michael the most surprising of all. That regret faded almost as soon as she felt it, to be replaced with burning anger at the thought of Sheppard's hands on her. He advanced toward her as he gave his anger voice.

"After what he did to you, how can you expect anything less?" he demanded, the menace of his challenge filling her with the fear of harm if she did not make clear her own unwillingness – that her fragile emotions had been exploited. She backed up quickly, and that action stopped him in his tracks.

"He…" Michael tilted his head, regarding her, his anger softening, his expression becoming almost confused and innocently child-like. "He asked that I give you a message… he said to tell you… that he loved you."

Hurt to the point of breaking, blinding anger flooded everything she was, and though it was not directed at Michael she flew at him, growling and lashing out at him. Her fists barely made contact with him before he caught her and drew her in to him, restricting her movement, holding her tightly until her anger played itself out, and another emotion crept in to take its place…

Teyla shook herself, forcing the memory away into the back of her mind, and looked up to meet the look of confusion in Sheppard's regard. She took a breath and said quietly, "He thought he was saving me from the cruelty I'd suffered while in Atlantis. He would not leave me there a moment longer, not even when the city was his. He received a transmission about an uprising on one of the worlds he had subdued, and left the clone he had made of my son in charge of Atlantis while he brought me with him."

"And you escaped?" Sheppard asked. She couldn't help but hear the hopeful tone in his voice.

"Not immediately," she said, "but yes – once we came here."

"The uprising was here?" Sheppard frowned again and she read confusion on his face. "I thought—"

"You must forget the truth you know from your reality, John Sheppard," she explained to him. "It may not be true here."

"But… New Athos – your people – we freed them from Michael," he shook his head as he answered her.

"As you tried to do here," she confirmed. "But Michael is nothing if not persistent. He just waited until Atlantis withdrew and then he returned to remind them of the benefits they had 'enjoyed' under his control."

"And they rolled over? Halling would nev—"

"Halling is dead," she told him, "Killed by the very Wraith with whom Sheppard tried to form an alliance."

Sheppard shook his head again, and she could see that he was trying to take everything in.

"So, the uprising?" he asked at last.

"Not here," she said. "Michael's Hive never reached the world on which it was taking place. He sent the second of his ships the moment he received word that New Athos was under attack by the Wraith."

"But… why? Why risk putting himself in direct conflict with the Wraith Alliance, you'll forgive me saying, for what was little more than a resource to him. There are plenty more people he can convert into his hybrids," she saw him shiver as he said the word, "without putting himself in danger to protect the Athosians – just because they're your people? I mean, please, I know he's deluded about the two of you, but—"

"Because Nethaiye was here," she answered, interrupting as the tears she had been holding back spilled out onto her face.

"Oh God, Teyla," he reached out and gripped her shoulder. She flinched slightly before she remembered that this was not the John Sheppard she had known, and then allowed him to draw her closer, allowed herself the solace of resting her head against the warm of his chest. "I'm sorry."

"It was truly the beginning of the strength in the Wraith Alliance," she said quietly, "the day that they attacked my son."

The danger meant nothing to her, the risk to her own life paled by the knowledge that somewhere, here, among the burning roundhouses, the flying debris and the buffeting wakes of the many Darts flying overhead – belonging to both the Wraith and to Michael – her son lay helpless and under threat.

They had tried to stop her from leaving the transport ship, but she had been a tigress against any and all that stood in the way, even knowing they merely obeyed Michael's command to keep her safe until he returned.

Dodging to the left she narrowly avoided a falling, flaming log that had once been the support of one of the larger roundhouses. Had she not thrown herself to the ground and rolled her evasive action would have taken her right into the path of a culling beam, but roll she did, and as she came up to her knees, looking around to find a safe path through the carnage toward the centre of the village, a figure appeared on the edge of her vision.

"Teyla!" the figure called her name, and she turned in time to see that the figure had in its arms a small wrapped bundle.

Again she shook away the memory and, looking up at Sheppard, she said, "They decimated the settlement, there was little of it left by the time the battle was at an end and the Wraith withdrew. Michael's forces remained, for a time, no doubt either combing the debris for signs of my son, or looking for me, but—"

"What is it?" he asked, and she heard the unease in his voice. No doubt he thought she sensed the Wraith.

"Gather your things," she told him, nodding back into the ruined shelter. "That is our ship. We must leave."

**

Sheppard sat awkwardly in the co-pilot's seat of the Jumper as the ship took them into orbit. He wanted to know more; wanted to understand the situation in this galaxy; to know how he might find an advantage in the conflicts that so obviously existed. From what she'd said to him so far – and since the arrival of the Jumper she'd refused to be drawn into further discussion on the subject – Teyla was the leader of the scattered forces that provided resistance to both the Wraith and to Michael's forces. From her ship she led hit and run operations against them and tried to free as many of the human settlements of the Pegasus galaxy from both their thrall. Little wonder then that she was as hard as she seemed to have become. She could ill afford to entertain her softer side.

They cloaked as they broke orbit, and seemed to be heading toward one of New Athos' smaller moons. When he could not sit in silence any more, as the growing discomfort he had been feeling the last few minutes became more than he could ignore, he said, "So let me get this straight… Michael has Todd's queen. Todd is the leader of the Wraith Alliance and you—"

"And I will answer your questions once we reach the Daedalus," she told him, her words overlapping his.

"Daedalus!" he yelped in surprise. A thrill of hope began to stir inside him. "You have the Daedalus?"

"It is the only way that I have managed to stay one step ahead of the Alliance," she said.

"And keep clear of Michael," he added.

"Yes," she said, breathing out as she said the word.

"But if you have the Daedalus we can—"

"We can discuss our courses of action once we reach the ship, John, please," she shook her head as she looked at him, "I must concentrate to make sure that it is safe to decloak the ships in order to go aboard."

Sheppard blinked, and then realised, somewhat belatedly, that all the time he had been chattering on at her, Teyla had been attempting to reach out and detect the presence of others, Wraith or Hybrid both. He gave her an embarrassed, apologetic look, and was rewarded by a faint smile.

After several tense and silent moments she breathed out again, and nodded to her pilot.

"I sense nothing," she said. "Hail the Daedalus and advise Marks that we are ready to come aboard."

"What about Caldwell?" Sheppard asked.

"I am sorry, John," she shook her head as she told him. "Steven was one of the first of our casualties. He insisted on taking a more active role in our battles with the Wraith; with Michael, and he—"

She broke off and shook her head. Sheppard nodded his understanding, then gasped softly as, in front of them, the Daedalus decloaked. He had never seen a more welcome sight.

**

The medic moved away after giving him another injection, allowing Sheppard to turn his attention to the food in front of him. He hadn't realised how hungry he was until he'd caught sight of it, taken in its scent, but the hungry churning in his belly had turned to pain and so Teyla had sent for more of the counter-serum.

"Tell me about this… Wraith Alliance," he asked, beginning a full frontal attack on the steaming bowl of soup in front of him.

"What is there to tell?" Teyla shrugged slightly as she sat down opposite him after waving the medic away from tending to her own injuries. "Following the rise of Michael's army, Todd contacted Atlantis to propose an alliance against him. Sheppard agreed to a meeting, but while the meeting was taking place, a second Wraith faction attacked the planet where their meeting was taking place. I still do not believe, as many do, that Todd was innocent in that attack, because it was in subduing that Hive that he began the formation of the Alliance. Two Hives became three, then six… then before we knew it they were a strength in the galaxy in true rivalry and opposition to Michael and it was the humans that got caught in the crossfire."

"If that's true," Sheppard paused in eating his soup both to reach for a hunk of bread, and to look up at Teyla as she told the tale, "then how come Michael's still as strong a force as he is? I'd have thought, faced with the kind of Alliance you're talking about – and with the damage you guys have got to be doing with your hit and run attacks – that he'd be weakening by now."

"We aren't as effective as we could be," Zelenka said, coming to join the two of them at the table, his own bread and cheese meal held tightly in his hand. "Even with Teyla's efforts, the resistance is too scattered to be more than a minor skin irritation to him. Each cell viciously guards their independence – it's hard to get them to cooperate."

Sheppard heard a great deal of bitterness in the Czech scientist's voice, and he looked from Teyla, who was watching the man with a certain degree of gentleness in her eyes, to the scientist himself.

"I'm missing something," Sheppard said.

"Radek used to be a part of Lorne's group on New Lantea," Teyla said, turning her attention back to Sheppard. "He's one of the few that has always believed that unless we unite, we'll never push back against those that would harm us."

"Perhaps a product of where I come from," Zelenka said quietly, reaching to briefly pat Teyla's hand. "But she's right. I tried to persuade them to leave New Lantea and join up with other like-minded people I was sure they'd find in the galaxy, but they weren't interested… at least some of them, so—"

"What he means," Teyla said harshly, "is that Kanaan wouldn't hear of it. It is all right, Radek, you do not need to try and spare my feelings."

"I only—"

She shook her head, cutting him off again, before she told Sheppard, "Anyway, he put his courage where his words once dwelled and set out, a Jumper pilot and himself, until he found a place where he could be of use in organising a resistance cell – and that is where I found him."

"I've never been so pleased to see someone in my life," Zelenka said, chuckling slightly. "And when I found out that she had the Daedalus…"

"Radek keeps me reminded that we do need to unite, to gather our strength and to use that strength against the terrible things that happen in our galaxy." Teyla said. She sounded slightly embarrassed.

"You know," Sheppard couldn't resist teasing, "If you two want me to leave you alone for a while, I—"

Zelenka yelped, and almost dropped his food in his haste to disassociate himself with Sheppard's comment. He only appeared to relax when Teyla started to chuckle lightly.

"Thank you for the offer, John," she said, an eyebrow cocked, "but it will not be necessary."

"Right," he said, unable to shake the curiosity he felt at Zelenka's reaction. He tried to set himself a mental reminder to ask the man about it at another time. "So… this Alliance – what do they have that keeps Michael at bay?"

"Numbers, to begin with," Teyla answered, "Todd has many Hives under his control. Secondly, Michael is never able to find him in a position to bring the two of them to a conflict that might shift the balance of power. Other Hives in the Alliance, yes, but never Todd's."

"And thirdly," Zelenka added, as Sheppard frowned at Teyla over the news she had just given. "Before Atlantis fell to Michael, McKay and Keller had both been working with Todd – sharing technology, ideas; sharing science. I'm almost certain that Keller and Todd were working together to find a cure for the ills Michael has released on the population of the galaxy, and before he died, I know that McKay was having a very interesting debate with the Wraith on the operation of the Stargates – of wormholes and subspace… they were set on improving the FTL drives of both races, creating the possibility of a new form of travel."

Hope flared inside of Sheppard.

"The Hoffan Virus?" he asked. "Hybridisation?"

"Perhaps," Teyla said softly, and then as if she knew where his mind was heading added, "but John… he is Wraith. He cannot be trusted. He cannot help you."

Sheppard shook his head and said, "Much as I hate to argue with you, Teyla, Todd may be the only hope I have, both of avoiding becoming one of Michael's creatures, and in finding a way back to my own universe." Teyla sighed, but did not interrupt him, so he continued, "There may be things that he and your McKay discussed that could help my McKay figure out a way back."

"But your friends are still prisoners in Atlantis," Teyla pointed out softly, "and while we may have the Daedalus at our disposal, we do not have the strength of arms to take on the city's defences and rescue them. If I have learned one thing over the years, John, it is to be realistic."

"No, no, no," Zelenka argued, setting down his last hunk of bread and spreading his fingers to stop Sheppard from answering Teyla. "Sooner or later, Michael is going to have to go back to Atlantis, which will mean that if Lorne and the others are ready, they can go into the city and get McKay and Ronon out."

Teyla shook her head, "It is too much of a risk, Radek. Each time they ghost one of his ships entering Atlantis, they risk revealing themselves, and the resistance cell on New Lantea."

"I really think this is worth the risk," Zelenka said, talking to Teyla as though he had forgotten Sheppard existed.

He looked between the two of them, wondering at Radek's willingness to help, worrying at Teyla's resistance and, with it all, his head beginning to ache from all the differences and vague similarities that existed here. His body too had started to ache, and he worried that it meant the medicine they'd given him wasn't working as well as it should be. He couldn't help but pick up a spoon, fading out the argument frantically going back and forth between Teyla and Zelenka, to look at his reflection in its curved surface, examining his face for signs of bulging veins, or the forming of facial marks. Of course he found none, though he did look pale and there were darkening bags beneath his eyes.

It took him a moment or two to realise that it had fallen silent around him, and when he raised his eyes from examining his reflection in the spoon, as distorted as it was, he saw both of the others were looking at him curiously. He shrugged in response to their unspoken question.

"I have agreed to allow Radek to contact Lorne," Teyla told him. "If he can free the others, we can arrange a rendezvous. We can talk with McKay and see if he believes it is possible that Todd's knowledge can help you get back to your own world, and if indeed there is anything he can do to help counter Michael's retrovirus."

"Thank you," Sheppard said, and reached out a shaking hand to grip hers on the table top, genuinely appreciative.

She nodded in response, and then added, "In the meantime, John, you should rest. You will need all of your strength if you are to fight this."

**

Her hand shook as she lifted the syringe full of saline to irrigate the wound before she bound it. She did not know why he insisted she do this. Michael healed at twice the rate of any of them, and could as easily have cared for himself as she could.

Keller felt his eyes on her, watching her, felt their inherent judgement, the menace and threat they carried hanging heavy in the air. Her hand trembled again and the syringe began to slip from her fingers.

The grip of his other hand closed around her wrist, vicelike, unyielding.

"You seem somewhat distracted, Doctor," he said coldly.

"No, I—" she started to answer.

"Or perhaps it is the lingering effects of the stunner they used on you," he added, seeming as though he had been struck by the sympathetic thought. She knew better. Michael had not one sympathetic chromosome in his entire genetic makeup.

"You," she said, trying to pull her wrist from his grasp even as he took the loaded syringe from its precarious balance in her fingers. "All this… it's—"

"Yes?" he tilted his head, his eyes like talons that pinned her in place.

"It's wrong," she dared. "What you did to Sheppard – both of them, it's—"

"Do not try to take the moral high ground with me, Doctor Keller," he said, and though his voice was clipped, it held a note of amusement, not anger. She found this more disturbing. It was probably more dangerous. "We both remember who began this. Beside, Sheppard was right – both of them."

He echoed her words with an arched eyebrow, letting go of her wrist and beginning the process of irrigating the long scratches that ran from the inside of his wrist to his elbow.

"What do you mean?" she asked in spite of her own desire to leave the bridge now that he was caring for himself. Instead she was caught. He nodded to the salve on top of the medical kit and the bandages beside it.

"That argument is becoming… stale… pointless now. What's done is done and we must all learn to live with the consequences," he answered.

"What, so you're to become vengeance personified?" she snapped, picking up the salve and waiting while he finished with the irrigation before she began to apply the thick, greenish white paste with a wooden spatula along the length of the scratches. "Bending and twisting everyone and everything in the galaxy to your plan; to your will; murdering those who won't comply – or worse than that—"

"Watch your tone!" his anger flared, and as he raised his voice, and his free hand, in her direction, she took a hurried step away. The wooden spatula clattered to the floor between them. "You would do well to remember your place."

"You took me from my place because you wanted to punish your little – what is he to you – your son? Your favoured clone? What?" She backed up another step as she challenged him.

"Why would I wish to punish him?" he frowned, curiosity drowning the anger that had seized him moments before.

"Why do you do anything?" she countered. "If he's stepped a toe outside of your careful scheme, of course you'd punish him. You—"

"We're receiving a message from Atlantis," one of the hybrids interrupted.

"The dressings, Doctor," Michael ordered, then turning to the screen on the bridge said, "Let me see it."

As the screen came to life, resolved into the worried looking face of Nethaiye looking back at them, Keller picked up the bandage and began to dress the scratch wound on Michael's arm. She tried not to look at Nethaiye, not to look at anything but what she was doing. Still, her ears could not shut out the sound of his voice.

"I trust everythi—" Nethaiye began.

"You did not contact me to question my success or otherwise," Michael snapped. "What went wrong?"

"Nothing, I…" Nethaiye faltered, "Everything… I have done everything that you instructed."

"But?" Michael hissed, and quickly fastening the bandage, Keller backed away from the irritated Wraith-Human hybrid.

"I don't understand how they could possibly ha—"

"Are you telling me that the prisoners have escaped?" Michael rumbled, and around Keller the bridge fell silent. It was the kind of silence that preceded the breaking of a deadly storm.

"I don't understand how, but—"

"Yes or no?" Michael demanded.

"The hybrid left guarding the brig was found unconscious, the cell was empty," Nethaiye admitted at last.

"Fool!" Michael roared, but something in his tone did not entirely convince Keller that his anger was all that it should have been. She had been on the receiving end of that ire more times than she cared to count, and perhaps it was because this particular time it was not aimed her way, but the threat seemed subdued… somehow lessened. Perhaps he did have a soft spot for the clone of Teyla's son after all. "It is fortunate for you that I anticipated such an eventuality!"

"You don't trust me!" Nethaiye raised his voice.

"And you have proven my lack of trust founded!" Michael did not raise his voice this time, was matter of fact. "However, in this instance your incompetence does not matter. Perhaps I should even thank you."

"What would you have me do?" the adult version of the cloned baby looked as petulant in that instant as any child.

"Search for them."

"But they've already left, I'm certain of—"

"Of course they have," Michael snapped, interrupting.

"Appearances?" he frowned, "Then you su—"

"You asked what I would have you do. I would have you search," he growled a little, "Must you question everything?"

Keller tried to back away, to leave the bridge unnoticed. There were many things that were bothering her about this conversation. She needed time to think; time to assess what she would do – ultimately, what risks she would be prepared to take.

"Where are you going, Doctor?" Michael's voice, dripping with menace, stopped her as surely as if she had collided with him. "We have not finished our conversation."

"Father, please," Nethaiye said, "Do not punish Jennifer for my mistakes."

"Make sure you conduct a thorough search of the city," Michael ignored the plea, and Keller knew she would not be shown leniency or consideration. "Do not trouble me with your failures again."

**

Ronon paced. He hated inaction. He hated feeling helpless, but most of all, and most disturbing of all to him, he hated Kanaan. Everything about the man irritated him, and the chip the Athosian seemed to be carrying on his far too narrow shoulders grated on his very last nerve.

"Would you please stop?" McKay looked up from the computer tablet he'd been lost in for the last several hours and fixed him with an expectant glare. "Either that or spit it out!"

Ronon growled and threw up his hands. "How could she even—?"

"Try not to be too hard on Kanaan," Beckett's soft voice interrupted. "None of this has been easy for him and he's been having a hard time adjusting."

"I wouldn't imagine it's been easy on any of you," Ronon snapped, "but I don't see you or Lorne behaving like and ass."

"Aye, but—" Beckett began.

Ronon rounded on him. "But nothing. Ever since he set eyes on us he's been acting like it's our fault – like we're the ones to blame."

"He's just angry, Ronon," Beckett answered, "angry and hurt – which, when you consider what he's lost to this…"

Beckett's voice trailed off and Ronon thought he saw an uncomfortable flash of guilt cross the doctor's face.

"No more than the rest of us, Doc," Lorne said, coming quietly into the room. "We've all of us suffered."

"I disagree," Beckett said. He turned to face Lorne, and Ronon frowned as he listened to his words – and to the tension in his body language. "He's lost his home, his people… the woman he loved – she was the centre of his world, Evan."

Lorne snorted in apparent disbelief or disagreement, but Beckett went on undeterred.

"And when we gave him the retrovirus—"

Ronon shuddered. He looked from one man to the other, wondering if either of them realised just what it was they were saying – the resonance of it. He felt the nausea at his own reaction rising just a moment later when Lorne spoke.

"We did what we had to in order to survive," Lorne said. "Kanaan—"

"Just stop!" McKay interrupted the argument that was obviously brewing between the doctor and the former major. "This isn't getting us anywhere."

Ronon didn't miss the expression on McKay's face and knew that the scientist hadn't missed the bitter irony in the argument either.

"What we need to know," Ronon stepped up in support of the scientist, "is how we're going to get Sheppard out of—"

"Lorne," one of the men that Ronon had seen in what passed for the Control Room here inside the mountain had hurried in.

Ronon shook his head at that thought too. The Control Room was little more than cobbled together stolen and salvaged computer equipment. It barely ran, and kept technicians hurrying back and forth full time to maintain it.

The man stopped beside where Lorne and the doctor were still faced off against each other like boxers waiting for the bell.

"What is it?" Lorne asked without taking his gaze away from Beckett.

"A transmission, sir," the man answered, "on a low frequency subspace carrier wave."

A frown crossed Lorne's face and this time he looked away from the doctor to meet the eyes of the news-bringer.

"Directed at us?" he asked.

"Yes, sir." the man answered. "Audio only – from someone identifying themselves as Lieutenant Colonel—"

"Sheppard!" Ronon almost laughed.

"Where the hell from?" Lorne did not stop frowning. "Michael's ship?"

The man shook his head. "No, sir. He claims to be aboard the Daedalus."

"Daedalus," Beckett jumped, and Ronon thought he looked as though he'd been bitten, "but that means—"

"Teyla," Lorne finished. He nodded curtly to the messenger, a non-verbal instruction to lead them to the Control Room.

Ronon couldn't help but exchange a grin with McKay as the scientist, and then the doctor, moved to follow.

As Beckett moved past Lorne, the former marine caught his arm and, looking the man square in the eye, said, "At least Kanaan is still alive."

**

Since losing Atlantis, very little moved Jennifer Keller to tears. However, exhausted, her head still on fire from the crushing mental assault she had suffered from Michael, trembling with the effort of holding herself up beneath the weight of repression and hopelessness, she curled herself into a tight, protective ball and wept until her throat was sore and her chest ached with the effort of breathing against the sobs.

She had never seen him so fanatical; so fervent in his resolve. Not since he first came to Atlantis had he displayed such ruthlessness and cruelty – and she had born the brunt of it as he pushed against every pointless measure of resistance she had tried to throw in the way of his search through her mind.

A new rush of anguish gripped her, and as if it hurt her physically, she rolled away from the wall and uncurling, became wracked with sobs once more.

"Ronon!"

She had been unable to keep the truth from Michael; unable, in the last instant, to redeem herself where she had failed before, and safeguard the man she had loved…

The grip of his mind in hers momentarily weakened as she recalled the warmth of Ronon's arms around her; the way his kisses had left her warmed and cherished. As she had treated the other for his injuries, even though she knew he was not hers, would never be hers, the feelings had rekindled inside her, as had the loyalty of a lover and—

"You dare to try lying to me!" Michael's voice was almost imploring her to contradict him, though he gave her not a moment to answer. "You try to convince me that your intentions were innocent and all the time you were plotting behind my back!"

-back- -back- -back-

"Michael, no, I—" She backed up in panic, but not fast enough to avoid the back of his hand that sent her flying across the laboratory.

"Do not compound your lies!" he raged at her, pacing as though what she had done caused him great anxiety, but it was her anxiety that peaked in the moments following.

Two of Michael's hybrids appeared in the doorway and, spinning to face them, he ordered, "Escort the doctor to her quarters and ensure she remains there." He turned to her then, his eyes and his voice cold as he added, "You leave me little choice but to consider carefully whether you have outlived your usefulness to me, Doctor."

…She had to do something, no matter the risk, no matter what happened to her. She had to make sure that Michael's plan did not come to full realisation.

She pulled herself upright once more and began to wipe her eyes; dry her face. Her fear had not diminished, only her determination had increased. She thought she had little left to lose. If she could just find a way past the hybrid guards, a way out of her quarters…

It wasn't quite the opportunity she wanted that presented itself in the next moment. The hybrids that were her guards came in and took her roughly by the arms. Her fear mounted. His soldiers only ever did such a think when the one they came for had been condemned.

"Where are we—?" she began, struggling weakly.

"He's decided," one of them said, as if it explained; as if it would answer her sickening fear.

They moved with her so quickly that her feet barely came into contact with the shadowed, misty floor of the ship. It was almost as if they worried that if they delayed they too would share her fate and they did not let go until they had propelled her into his presence again, releasing her just inside the main laboratory door. They did not leave.

Michael was standing before one of the workbenches, partly turned away from her. In his hand he held a vial containing a deep blue liquid. He had a syringe in the other, and was drawing the liquid into the syringe. Involuntarily, Jennifer took a step back.

"When we first came to Atlantis," Michael said without looking away from what he was doing, "after Teyla had… exposed my clone for what it was… when I saw the… affection the child's clone had developed for you, I believed that you would be a steadying factor."

He looked at her then, withdrawing the needle from within the vial, the syringe now filled with the deep blue serum that Keller knew better than she cared to. She took another step backwards.

"I'm certain it hasn't escaped your notice that he is… unpredictable… unstable." He gave a pause, glancing at the syringe in his hand before he said, "It was an… unfortunate result of the rapid development of his clone and unavoidable. Still," his voice picked up pace, "your influence steadied his episodes. It made you a valuable asset, Doctor, but since I now know that you have been… using your influence to subvert the child's clone, I can no longer allow it to continue. However—"

"Michael, please listen to me," she said, her eyes darting from his face to the syringe in his hand and back, "I have never tried to turn Nethaiye against your purpose. Only this one time, and I still believe that those people could be—"

"Enough!" he roared at her, starting toward her, repeating, "Enough."

He nodded to the hybrids, and they stepped forward to take hold of her arms once more. She struggled with them, knowing what was coming – terrified.

"Do you think me foolish?" he growled, not requiring an answer as he reached for her sleeve. "As I said… though I cannot allow the… relationship to continue – I do have a use for you."

"No!" she struggled more frantically in the hybrids' grip as Michael tore at her sleeve and tightened a tourniquet around her arm. "Michael, no – it's not tested, we—"

"Exactly, Doctor," he said, his voice dripping with menace. "You are to be my… test subject."

She struggled so hard against the hybrids that they lifted her from the floor to remove her leverage, and still she kicked out at Michael as he stepped closer.

"For God's sake, Michael, please!" she cried out as he grabbed her arm, and held it tightly, pressing the needle into her vein.

Heedless of her struggles and her pleas, he slowly pushed the plunger… she felt the icy burn of the liquid as it entered her system. They had worked on it together in the beginning, and she knew it was designed to take effect in seconds, flooding the system with a combination of Wraith radicals, into which he'd spliced a deadly cocktail of a modified Hoffan protein, and an activated Iratus Queen RNA strand.

"If the serum cannot be integrated into the human system then it is pointless to continue production, Doctor, surely you can see that." Michael said dispassionately as he withdrew the needle. "And time runs away from us."

"Why!" The word was shrill as it left her lips, and her efforts to free herself from the hybrids' grasp redoubled. She wanted to make a grab for Michael's injured arm, hurt him, infect him with the virus coursing, even now, through her body, lodging in every one of her organs. "What possible good could you—?"

"Who better than the doctor responsible for the creation of the inoculation to analyse the data – first hand, so to speak." Michael nodded to the hybrids and with no warning they let her go. "Chart its progression… the side effects…"

She was barely a step away from him, still off balance from being so suddenly released by the hybrids, but she lurched toward him anyway. He caught her, spun her around, and twisted her arm behind her back. Then he leaned down to speak with soft menace against her cheek.

"Far more competent fighters than you, Jennifer Keller, have tried and failed."

Whatever answer she would have made died in her throat as the full effects of the serum took hold. It began as an almost explosive burning that radiated swiftly from the middle of her chest, as though acid flowed through her body. In its wake a dull and heavy aching weighed her limbs and her muscles, and she had to fight to breathe for the tightness in her chest. Her body's immune system had flared, she knew, mustering against the invading DNA.

She wasn't even aware that she'd cried out from it until Michael spoke in the same, softly urgent tones as before, almost bodily setting her before a computer as he did.

"Be sure you make careful notes, Doctor," he said. "It may help to prevent others suffering as you do now."

"You bastard!" she gasped as he held her in place. "You don't care how many suffer. You'd rather I died from this. You—"

"On the contrary," he argued softly. "I would rather you lived. Then I could move forward with my work without the lengthy adaptation of the serum to deal with your… Human weaknesses."

He let her go and she almost fell. She gripped the edge of the workbench to hold herself upright as he stepped, and then walked, away.

"See to it that she is not disturbed," he said, and the room fell silent but for the sound of her laboured breathing and involuntary whimpers.

She leaned heavily against the workbench, trying to still the spinning nausea that was creeping over her as her temperature began to climb. Already she could feel her heart rate had almost doubled.

This new retrovirus, contained in the serum, was in answer to the partial cure for the Hoffan infection that the Wraith scientists, under Todd's direction, had begun to develop, and once they managed, as Michael suspected they would, to develop an inoculation against the effects of the Hoffan protein, it would only be a matter of time before the queens would begin breeding new armies of Wraith that did not suffer the same weakness. This virus – through those breeding queens – would target the very building blocks of the Wraith. It was an insidious plan, but then, most of Michael's schemes were.

First though, Michael had to get the retrovirus into the human population without killing them, and judging by the clinical presentation of the excruciating symptoms she was beginning to suffer, that might prove to be beyond even Michael.

Chart its progression… the side effects… Be sure you make careful notes, Doctor. It may help to prevent others suffering as you do.

Her hands trembled as she raised them to access the computer. If she lived… or died, and she suspected the latter would prove to be the truth, mattered little any more. She would gather no data – force him to go slowly if she could – and try to give time to the resistance to find Michael. She had to warn them of his plans, and could only hope that they would act against him decisively… but first she had to warn them of the viper they nestled at their breast.

Michael had allowed her access to a computer – an interface into the ship's systems – and the means by which she might send that warning in the hope that someone would recognise it for what it was. Fighting through the increasingly debilitating effects of the sickness spreading through her, she composed a brief subspace message. As the strength in her legs began to fail and they trembled beneath her, she pressed the command key to send what she had composed.

**

"Really, this is incredible!" McKay repeated his astonished commentary on the Puddle Jumper's adaptation for perhaps the tenth time.

"Yeah, well," Lorne replied tiredly, "as I said, without the addition of even a limited hyperdrive, the nearest planet with Gate access is months away, so before he left, Zelenka adapted the technology and added hyperdrive capacity to the two Jumpers we had at the time."

"He left?" Ronon cut in before McKay could ask the question waiting on the tip of his tongue.

"He believed we'd be more effective as a resistance force if we were organised," Kanaan answered. "He wanted to try and coordinate between the various resistance cells in the galaxy. I told him he was wasting his ti—"

"Where did he go?" McKay asked, not wanting the Athosian and the Satedan to get into another squabble.

"We don't know," Lorne answered, glancing at McKay. The scientist saw gratitude pass across Lorne's face momentarily. "To be honest, we were not even sure, before today, that he'd survived."

"How do you—" Ronon started.

"Besides the Jumper pilot, he is the only one that knew how to contact us," Lorne said, "who even knew we were there."

"Which most likely makes this a trap," Kanaan added, glaring at Ronon and McKay.

"You don't know that," Lorne snapped and shot a look Kanaan's way.

"Neither do you know that it is not!" the Athosian spat back.

"Either way, gentlemen," Beckett's soothing tones came from the rear compartment of the Jumper where, as he turned to face the doctor, McKay saw that Beckett had laid out several small syringes. "We'll know soon enough. Time for your injections."

"Injections?" McKay asked and a deep frown crossed his face.

"Aye," Beckett answered, "unfortunately, as 'incredible' as a Jumper with hyperspace capability is, shielding against the subspace radiation leaves more than a little to be desired."

"So why the injections?" McKay asked, just uncomfortable enough with the idea to feel the need to ask, even though he could hazard an educated guess as to the purpose of the inoculations.

"A little cocktail I developed," Beckett said, "to help counter the effects of the radiation more quickly."

He approached the Athosian, but Kanaan waved him away.

"I'll be fine," he said.

"Kanaan, we've been through this," Beckett said and tried again to get close to the man to administer the injection.

"I said," Kanaan caught the doctor's wrist and glared at him coldly, "I'll be fine."

"Doc," Lorne called as Beckett started to open his mouth to speak. Lorne shook his head and then offered his own arm. Beckett sighed and then moved to Lorne instead.

McKay couldn't help but glance at Ronon to see him glaring at Kanaan, the two locked in a battle of wills over this latest test of manhood.

**

Sheppard watched the HUD that showed the approach of the small craft toward the greater bulk of the Daedalus and her Fighter Bay.

"Daedalus, this is Lorne," Lorne's voice over the comm. made Sheppard turn to Marks in surprise. "We're on final approach. Request permission to come aboard."

"Go ahead, Major," Marks answered, then raised a querying eyebrow in Sheppard's direction. "Colonel?"

"Lorne's okay?" Sheppard asked and when he received a confused expression in response, added, "In my universe, Lorne was hurt in the explosion at Michael's compound and—"

"Lorne's fine," Zelenka, who had returned to the bridge along with Teyla, explained. "He was hurt, sure, but we managed to get him out before Michael's Dart hit the rubble with its culling beam."

"What about McKay – Vega?" Sheppard couldn't help but ask, pushing away a wave of dizziness that hit him without warning.

Zelenka shook his head, but it was Teyla that answered.

"Both Rodney and the captain were brought aboard Michael's cruiser. Rodney escaped during the battle with the Wraith ships, but the captain… I am sorry, John."

**

Marks looked up as the others arrived on the bridge. It was a joyous reunion that he witnessed and he let the warmth of it fill him with added strength and renewed purpose.

A light blinked suddenly on his console, beside it the words, Incoming subspace message, flashed briefly across his screen.

"We're re—" he started, but stopped as, even as he reached for the controls to view the message, the light extinguished and his screen went blank once more. He looked up in time to see the shadow of a hand leave the other control panel.

"What is it, Marks?" Sheppard asked him.

"I could have sworn we received a message via subspace, but…" He gestured at his console, and then looked at the others gathered around the console at the other side of the command chair.

**

Sheppard frowned, and reached up to wipe away a trickle of sweat from under his hairline before it found its way onto his face. He felt as though someone had turned up the heat on the bridge by a couple of dozen degrees, and the latest atmosphere did little to help the uncomfortable feeling that was growing in him.

"You're sure?" he asked, feeling a prickling creeping over his spine and the back of his neck.

"Young man's been sitting in that chair for too long," Beckett said with a smile. "When was the last time you had a break, lad?"

"I'm fine, Doctor, honestly," Marks answered, turning his worried expression toward Sheppard. "I know what I saw, sir, and—"

"I-It was probably just a glitch in the system," Zelenka interrupted, and turning Sheppard's way, pushed up his spectacles. "It happens all the time. We just don't have the time to keep up with the necessary repairs."

"It was no glitch, sir," Marks argued, "I saw—"

"Kevin?" Teyla's soft voice cut quietly across the growing undercurrent that had begun rumbling across the bridge. She moved forward a little, and Sheppard had to step to the side to let her pass. "You know that I trust you. You have proven yourself on many occasions, and if you say you saw that we received a message, then I believe that we received a message."

"Well, I…" Marks frowned, running a hand across his face. "Maybe I should take a break. Get something to eat."

"In the meanwhile, I will have Radek investigate the memory buffer," Teyla said. "We will come to the bottom of this."

"No," Marks said, "Teyla, it's all right. I can do that when I get back from eating. You might need Zelenka for something more important."

Sheppard saw Teyla meet Marks' eyes for a moment and then she nodded. "Very well, come to me when you have discovered the answers."

She smiled then, and turned back to them all as Marks left the bridge, and her smile broadened as she saw Ronon. She held out her hands to him, and the Satedan, matching her smile, took them into his own.

Sheppard couldn't help the pang of jealousy that flared in him at the warmth of the greeting they shared, when all he had been treated to was a slap or two around the face.

"Ronon," she said and briefly touched her forehead to his, before letting him go, and moving to give a more regular greeting to McKay, holding him in a brief embrace, before she said, "Rodney, it is good to see the both of you again."

"Likewise," McKay answered, grinning slightly. "Looking good, I have to say. Freedom fighter kinda… agrees with you."

Teyla chuckled lightly and said, "It is little different to the role I have played my whole life, Rodney."

Behind the small group, Sheppard heard Kanaan snort in disbelief, before the Athosian pushed his way through, and dripping sarcasm said, "Always such sweetness, what – you have no warm greeting for the father of you son?"

Teyla bristled.

"Kanaan," she all but snarled his name. "I might have expected that you would sur—"

Deep in his gut, a stabbing pain flared and Sheppard gasped, and doubling over as though to protect against the tenderness, he made a grab for the arm rest of the command chair.

"Sheppard," McKay, as the closest, was the first to his side and grasped his elbow in support.

Sheppard tried to speak, but the stabbing pain became a gnawing that stole his breath and left him groaning instead.

"Carson, please," Teyla turned away from Kanaan, ignoring the man as she hurried to the other side of Sheppard and with McKay's help, lowered him to sitting. It helped ease the trembling weakness in his legs, and the tension in his belly, and that began to relieve the deep ache in his gut. When he opened his eyes, Carson Beckett was kneeling on the ground in front of him, a medical kit open beside him.

"Is this what I think it is, Teyla?" Beckett asked as he looked him over.

Teyla nodded.

"It is why I asked you to accompany them," she said. "I hoped, since you had been working with Michael when he began the second phase of development of his retrovirus, that you would have a greater idea of how we might counter this."

"Retrovirus?" Ronon growled, and grabbing Teyla by the shoulder spun her around to face him.

"Ronon—" Sheppard gasped, and tried to get up to stop the Satedan from taking anything out on Teyla, but Beckett pressed a hand against his shoulder.

"Sit still, John," he ordered. "The less you move about the better. I can't believe you've been walking around with this—"

"Are you telling me," Ronon glared at Teyla, "that Sheppard's been infected – that he's going to turn into one of those—"

"I am sorry, Ronon," Teyla said softly, "We got to him as quickly as we could as soon as we realised the meaning of Michael's coded messages to his facility, but he had already administered the serum before we arrived."

"What have you given him so far?" Beckett asked, "J2F, or 34C?"

Teyla shook her head, "Neither. We were able to download some of the data from one of the redundant systems in a laboratory computer we discovered during one of our raids. It provided enough information for our scientists to develop a bio-toxin that slows the effects of the retrovirus. We recently found that both of the previous formulae you mention no longer have a preventative effect."

"My god," Beckett said, "that means—"

"Yes," Teyla said, breathing out as she said the word. "Michael is further along in his research than we previously thought, but we must help John."

"I'll do what I can," Beckett said, and turning to Ronon said, "Help me get him to Sick Bay."

"No, just…" Sheppard pushed them all away, and fought his way to his feet. "Give me another dose of that… whatever the hell it is that slows this thing. There's stuff we gotta do, and I can't do it from a bed in Sick Bay.

**

"It's your research, Rodney," Zelenka said in those familiar and annoying tones that McKay was so used to hearing. "Will you argue even with yourself?"

"If the results are wrong," he said, going back over the previous few screens trying to find where he must have made the mistake in the calculations. "Yes, I'll argue with myself."

"You've been over those calculations a hundred times. There's no mistake. Even the Wraith agree—"

"Oh, so we're trusting the Wraith now, are we?" McKay snapped.

"You know what I mean," Zelenka's exasperation with him was more than abundantly clear, and the audacity of it made McKay look up from the tablet at last. "It was your idea to work with Todd, you evidently trusted him enough for that."

McKay sighed.

"I just don't see how this is possible." He gestured toward the data on the numerous screens in front of them. "I mean, yes, I've known for a long time that the Pegasus Gates, and the Milky Way Gates operate on a slightly different frequency within subspace, but to suggest some of the potentials for each Stargate to access alternate frequencies—"

"Like images in a mirror," Zelenka said, pushing up his spectacles. "You know it's possible, Rodney, otherwise you wouldn't have travelled here in the first place."

"That was an accident, Radek," he said, throwing up his arms and pacing away. "A terrible accident caused by the close proximity of three Gates, all keyed in to the same subspace frequency and—"

"If the Stargates couldn't access different frequencies in dialling it would be impossible for the Atlantis Gate to dial Earth." Zelenka pointed out to him. It was the slap upside the head that he needed when he continued, "And that's only one Gate, not three."

"I need more data," he swung around and glared at Zelenka. "This isn't enough."

"It's all I have, I'm afraid," Zelenka told him sorrowfully. "All I managed to salvage from the Atlantis computers in any case."

"But if I don't have the full data, I—"

"Todd," Zelenka said.

"Excuse me?" he replied.

"You were working with Todd, trying to develop something that would improve the FTL drives. For some reason you started looking at the operation of the space Gates – using their operation to enhance hyperspace efficiency." Zelenka pushed up his spectacles again, and McKay realised how much that truly irritated him. The Czech scientist continued, "Knowing Todd, I'm sure he still has the data."

"Yeah, but is he likely to share it," McKay snapped.

"I don’t know, Rodney," Zelenka answered. "Perhaps if he thought you were going to continue your research into improving the hyperdrives…"

"Well the only other possibility I have is access to the Atlantis Gate, and that's not going to happen any time soon, and in any case, it doesn't work, right?" McKay asked, and then frowning, added, "Why is that?"

Zelenka turned a horrified look his way, "What, you don't know?"

"Don't know what?" McKay asked, irritated. "Of course I don't know. If I knew I wouldn't have to ask, I—"

"You did it," Zelenka said softly. "You sabotaged the Atlantis Gate so that Michael's people couldn't follow Ronon and the others.

McKay paled, suddenly putting the pieces together. "When you say, sabotaged, you mean—"

"Yes, Rodney. You rigged a deliberate overload to build in the Gate and short out the buffer, the DHD, the Gate itself, everything but…"

"Make it fast, McKay," Lorne's voice was urgent as the major threw himself to the side of the stairwell as another small group of hybrids appeared at the head of the stairs. "I don't know how long I can keep them off you."

"All I need is a couple of minutes," the scientist called back. It was a dangerous patch he was making, taking power from the main systems to route it without a buffer into the control desk, but he had little choice if he was going to get the DHD working and give Ronon, the others… and he hoped, himself, a way out.

"You're not going to get those couple of minutes," Kanaan called frantically from the head of the stairs down to the Gate Room. "Make it faster!"

"Ronon!" Lorne called a warning to the Satedan. Rodney peeked around the side of the desk, to see the problem. Ronon was already pinned down behind the ruined Jumper by the first group of hybrids. He was holding out, but if another group reached the Gate Room, he would be cornered, with no chance of escape.

"I see 'em!" Ronon called while he fired relentlessly into the oncoming hybrids.

Rodney pulled back his head, and frantically began working. His mind was racing too. Even if he did manage to dial the Gate and make a stable wormhole, which he had little doubt that he could, it would still leave a problem. All the hybrids would need to do would be to get up to the Control Room, retrieve the information in the buffer and redial. He had to prevent that. He had to find some way to make sure that this was the last address the Gate would dial – ever.

"I got it!" McKay cried suddenly, and reaching up he rapidly punched a sequence of symbols.

"McKay, we—" Lorne started, letting off a rapid stream of fire toward the head of the stairs. There was no way they would be able to escape the way they'd planned – down the stairs and out through the corridors bordering the Gate Room.

As if he'd read Lorne's mind, McKay called out, "Up! Get up to the Jumper Bay. I can lock him out of the bay controls. It's your only chance."

In the Gate Room below the wormhole rushed into existence. Ronon and the others would try to reach the Gate as planned, no matter what, and now, to stop them from being followed, McKay would have to get down to the Gate Room himself, to rig the feedback that would disable the Gate. First though, he had to give Lorne that chance to escape. He turned and ripped the back off the control computer, and tearing a small hand-held computer out of his pocket, he linked it to the circuit board. It would take him a minute or two to program the lockout, and he doubted it would hold Michael for long, but it was at least a chance.

"Kanaan, go!" McKay ordered the Athosian, "Go with Lorne. There's nothing more you can do here. You have to make the Jumper Bay before they can find a way past the lockout – Go!"

"What about—" Lorne started to argue. He still hadn't ascended a single step.

"I'm fine!" McKay said and started to pull the cover from one of the other control panels – to put in the final level of encryption. "Believe me, I run really fast when I'm cornered."

Lorne shook his head and waited for another moment, watching him as he worked with the computer tablet.

"Come with us, McKay!" Lorne yelled as Kanaan joined him on the stairs. The Athosian began firing upward, freeing Lorne to come back to the doctor's side. McKay felt Lorne tugging at his arm.

"No." McKay pushed him away. "The only chance you and the others have of ever defeating Michael and redeeming the city is if we can stop his easily accessing the Stargate. I have to complete an overload. Believe me, as soon as it's building I'm down those stairs and through the Gate with Ronon."

"You'll never get down there!" Lorne argued, pulling at McKay's arm again.

"I'll make it!" McKay argued, pushing at Lorne once more. "I told you, I—"

"—run really fast when you're cornered, yeah," Lorne said sorrowfully. "McKay—"

"Don't make me say it again," McKay told him.

Finally, Lorne nodded, and returned to Kanaan's side – leading the small band of resistance up the stairs toward the Jumper Bay.

"Any time you're ready, McKay," Ronon called up the stairs.

"Almost there," McKay answered. "Almost there."

The computer in his hand bleeped once, and he ripped the wires free. He didn't even bother to replace the back panel of the desk, simply gathered his courage – or was that stupidity – in both of his hands and made a dash for the stairs down to the Gate Room.

"Go!" he yelled at Ronon as he all but fell down the steps, losing his balance in trying to dodge the gunfire.

"Not without—" Ronon started.

"Go!" McKay slid into cover beside the Satedan and virtually pushed him with the added momentum of the slide. "We have to make it through the Gate. I've rigged it to overload."

"Everybody out!" Ronon suddenly yelled, and from their places, pinned or by choice, sheltering from the gunfire, the few members of the resistance who were leaving in support of Ronon began to make their dashes for the wormhole. They scurried like Rodents – armed rodents, McKay thought as the gunfire continued to go back and forth across the Gate Room.

McKay and Ronon were the last to make the break.

Ronon was running backwards, firing one way and then another as they got nearer and nearer to the Gate. McKay would never know what it was that made him turn his head, but something did and his heart found its uncomfortable way into his mouth as he saw Michael in the Control Room with a gun to Zelenka's head.

The Czech scientist looked down into the Gate Room, an apologetic expression on his face as he began working at the console, obviously trying to undo the damage that McKay had done.

"Oh no you don't!" McKay breathed, and stopped running for the wormhole, turning instead where he could access the small grate in the floor beside the Gate, to do what he could from there to stop Zelenka.

"McKay!" Ronon yelled, trying to reach him, but he dodged aside, and at the same time he yelled, "I'm right behind you, Ronon, go!"

"You're right in front of me," his Satedan friend corrected him.

He shook his head, "Ronon, I have to do this. I promise you, I'm one step behind you!"

Turning he gave the strongest push he could against the bigger man, pushing him toward the shimmering blue-white puddle. Luck was on his side. Ronon hadn't expected it and off balance, moved with the momentum of the push, all but stumbling into the wormhole. Gate physics did the rest, whisking Ronon away to safety.

He was left to do what he knew he must. Already he could hear the energy building up in the Gate area and feel the heat beginning to come from the ring itself. If he could just keep it building, keep Zelenka out for long enough to complete his plan.

He leaned down and pulled up the grate, uncovering the single circuit within and quickly attached his computer.

It was only then that he realised that no one was firing at him. As he turned to look up into the Control Room, he saw that confused hybrids were ringing the Gate Room. Yes, their weapons were pointed in his direction, but none of them were firing. He swallowed hard. That could mean only one thing…

He looked up into the Control Room again, and confirming his suspicion he saw that Michael was no longer at Zelenka's side. He called up to the scientist.

"I can't let you do this, Radek!" He glanced down at his computer, and began a bitter tango of code and counter code with the Czech as they fought for supremacy of control over the Gate. "What did he promise you, Zelenka? That he'd leave you alone – let you go free?"

"I merely told him the truth, Doctor McKay," Michael's softly menacing voice came from some little way in front of him, where the Wraith-Human hybrid had stopped, a safe distance from the Gate. "That your little resistance is doomed from the beginning, and that if he wishes to live, he'll do as he's told."

"Live?" McKay gestured toward the hybrids behind Michael. "You call that living?"

"Disable the overload, Doctor," Michael did not answer the question, simply stated his demands.

"I'm safe so long as I don't," McKay pointed out to Michael. "The minute I do as you say, I'm history."

"Not at all," Michael said. "You have value. There is a place for someone like you within my organisation."

"Over my dead body," McKay answered.

Michael sighed, then shrugged, and held out his hand for a weapon from the nearest hybrid.

"If you insist," he said quietly, but added more strongly as he raised the weapon in McKay's direction, "One last chance, Doctor McKay."

"I told you, I—"

McKay didn't get any further in his refusal of Michael's offer, and nor did Michael pull the trigger.

Behind the scientist, the overloading Gate began to sound its death knell, but it was not dying alone. Sparking energy exploded from the chevron marker nearest to one of the primary shield generation nodes, and a finger of rosy energy leaped from the chevron empowering the shield generator, sending fingers of deadly golden-red lightning out into the Gate Room.

Most of it grounded against the ruined Jumper, powering the remains of the ship to hover momentarily in the air, but one single stream of energy sent a fatal caress toward the creator of the Gate's demise.

McKay jerked as the power from the Gate speared the back of his neck, and flowed through him, grounding itself in him…

"Even after the Gate shorted, it took yo— he stubbornly held on to consciousness for long enough that Michael's people could take him to the infirmary. Doctor Keller and Doctor Beckett both worked on him for hours, but—" Zelenka broke off, shaking his head.

McKay swallowed. "So that's how he—"

"Yes. He drifted in and out of lucidity," Zelenka said, "and Michael insisted that I try and get from him the details of what he'd done, so that we could… repair the Gate but… he didn't ever say exactly what it was, and I wasn't about to push. I'd done enough."

"It wasn’t your fault, Radek," McKay answered, uncharacteristically offering comfort to the other scientist. "It was what he wanted."

**

Sheppard caught sight of his reflection in the polished command boards of the Daedalus' bridge. He looked pale, and he felt as pale as he looked. The bags under his eyes had increased as his body continued to fight the encroaching retrovirus – the coming change, sapping his energy, which he struggled to maintain.

"You said you had a plan?" Ronon said, the worried frown more than clear on his face as he looked at Sheppard. "More than to just let McKay and Zelenka argue themselves blue in the face over getting us home."

Sheppard couldn't help smiling at the attempt to lighten the mood as the others assembled.

"I heard that," McKay warned Ronon, and the attempts his friends were making to keep his spirits up warmed Sheppard as he lowered himself into the command chair, unable to stand for too long.

"So what's the plan?" Lorne asked.

"Todd," Sheppard said tiredly, going on to add, "Talking with Teyla and Zelenka before you arrived, before I sent you a message, it started to become clear that it's time we contacted our old friend… see what he can do to help us."

"Are you insane!" Kanaan spat in Sheppard's direction. "Trust the Wraith to—"

"Listen," Sheppard said, getting to his feet. He wobbled slightly, and both Beckett and McKay reached out to steady him, but he stepped forward and ended up almost nose to nose with the belligerent Athosian. "I've just about had a bellyful of your negativity, Kanaan. No one said you had to come along with the others. No one is going to force you to join in with the plan, so for right now, you can keep your god damned opinions to yourself!"

"You're thinking of the research Todd was doing with Jennifer, aren't you?" Beckett said into the thick silence that followed Sheppard's challenge to Kanaan.

The Athosian just glared at Sheppard, both men ignoring the doctor's attempts to defuse the situation.

"You don't know this universe," Kanaan growled at Sheppard. "You can't make assumptions based on what you know of your own. The Wraith—"

"Todd," Sheppard interrupted. "We were going to work together before – where's the difference now?"

"He betrayed you before," Kanaan pointed out harshly, "and you ended up dead for your troubles."

"Michael's doing, not Todd's," Sheppard spat.

"It was Michael's doing," Teyla moved subtly between Sheppard and Kanaan, the Athosian man moving back as she approached, "But, John, we cannot be certain that Todd was innocent in the betrayal. I told you that."

Sheppard put a hand on Teyla's shoulder, steadying himself against her a little. "I know, Teyla, but… he's a scientist, and a damn good one. He was working with Keller to directly counter some of these things that Michael's been doing and—"

"And if I might," McKay put in, "We – I mean he and my alternate – were working together on Gate technology. If we're going to get home, I need to see the data we gathered together. Zelenka only has a fraction of it and—"

"That's settled then," Sheppard said, looking seriously at Teyla. "I know you have your reservations, but what harm does it do if we just contact him, put out the feelers. It could be… beneficial."

Teyla looked doubtful, "John, I am sorry, the risk is too great and—"

"Risk? From a subspace message sent via a relay station?" Sheppard asked.

"He is a scientist," she answered, quoting his own words at him. "And he is a Wraith. He would be able to trace our position."

"So send the damn message and then move. This is a ship; we're not fixed in space." Sheppard said.

"Seriously, Teyla," McKay put in again. "I need that data, and much as I'm not much enamoured at the idea of spending time with this universe's Todd – if the other differences are anything to go by…"

Sheppard couldn't miss the glance he threw Kanaan's way as he said that. It almost made him smile. If only he wasn't so tired he might have made some kind of quip. As it was he just managed, "Please… Teyla."

Teyla looked between the two of them, indecision clear in her eyes. Finally she sighed.

"Work with Kevin to prepare the message," she said. "When it is ready, then I will decide."

Sheppard nodded, and squeezed her shoulder just a little, in thanks.

**

Todd growled softly, and padded across his quarters. Even refreshed as he was from just having fed, his right shoulder still ached, the whole right side of his body on fire as it usually was at such times. Slowly he lowered himself into the comfortable seat, one that almost folded around him.

Behind him he heard movement and smiled… watching in the mirror as the figure rose from the cushioned bed, and padded toward him, her bare feet making hardly a sound on the floor.

As her hand settled on his shoulder, he reached up to draw it further forward, and turned his head to nip at the soft flesh on the inside of Alicia's wrist. She moaned softly, and slipped her other hand across the front of his chest.

"You have been working too hard," she told him softly.

"What more can I do, my dear," he asked, looking at her in the reflection from the mirror, ignoring the livid scar that graced the right side of his face, to look on her soft, human beauty. "When The Abomination harries me so."

She chuckled a little and leaned down to whisper, "Just who harries whom, I am not certain."

Tugging on the arm he still held, he eased her around him and into his lap. She frowned at him for a moment, and then clearly reading the expression on his face said, "Something has happened."

"Indeed," he purred, letting a smile cross his serious countenance. "A most… curious occurrence."

"Oh?" she said lightly, her way of encouraging him to reveal more… one of them, anyway.

"I received a message – sent via the relay station that the Lanteans used to use… from someone claiming to be… John Sheppard."

Alicia gasped. "But—" she started.

"Yes. Sheppard fell to the Wraith… or to the forces of The Abomination – who knows which," Todd shrugged a little, "however, this message claims to be from Sheppard and he… knows things… things that only Sheppard would know."

"What does he want?" she asked him.

"There now, is the rub, my dear Alicia," he said quietly.

"Meaning?"

"Meaning that he and his people wish to meet with the Alliance… with me," Todd growled again.