"Chevron eight is locked!" The technician sounded elated. The gateway to a new galaxy had been opened…
Weir glanced at O'Neill, who gave her a brief nod. "Send the MALP," she ordered and watched as it crawled up the ramp and disappeared into shimmering light. Then it was gone.
With everyone else, Weir huddled around the technician's work station, waiting for the transmission that would determine if anyone would follow the MALP through the gate…
Let it work, she silently prayed. Let it work!
Nothing happened. Static snowed across the screen, but there was no transmission. Damn it. "It should be there by now."
"It has a long way to go," McKay pointed out, sounding much calmer than herself. How the hell does he do that?
To fail now, when they were so close… So damn close! She didn't think she could handle it. Seriously. If the MALP just disappeared without trace, if there was no answer to the thousands of questions already pummeling her mind, then she-
Suddenly the indicators on the screen jumped to life and the snowstorm vanished, to be replaced by a dark, unclear picture.
"We have MALP telemetry," the technician reported quietly, almost reverently.
Weir's heart leaped. "What are we looking at?"
Eyes glued to the screen, McKay slipped behind one of the consoles, frowning in concentration.
"Switching to infrared," the technician said and the screen flipped to a more psychedelic image. It helped, but only slightly.
"Radar indicates a large room," said McKay, studying the screen.
"Structurally intact," Dr. Jackson added.
For the first time, McKay was beginning to reveal his excitement. Or, perhaps, his trepidation. "Environment sensors say there's oxygen. No measurable toxins. We have viable life support." He paused and looked over at Weir. Yes, she thought, definitely trepidation. "Looks like we're not getting out of this."
She wanted to grin, but kept it in check as she looked to O'Neill for his decision.
The General took a breath, and she thought she detected a slight hint of regret — or envy — as he gravely said, "Dr. Weir. .you have a go."
Life as she knew it — as they all knew it — was about to change forever. With a nod to O'Neill and Dr. Jackson, she turned to McKay. He was on his feet, nervous now, but not backing down. Hell, she was nervous too. Who wouldn't be? This was so enormous she could hardly comprehend what they were about to do, but one thing was for sure. They were going to do it.
"Come on," she said to McKay, "let's go make history.
Chapter Three
The order was given; the mission was a go. Colonel Sumner felt no surprise, no elation, no fear. He didn't allow himself to be distracted so easily. Afghanistan, Abydos, or Atlantis; it was all the same to him. It was all enemy territory, and his job was to keep his people safe. That was all, no argument and no ambiguity.
He cast a glance at Sheppard and wished for the tenth time that Weir had listened to his recommendation to drop the cocky, smart-ass kid from the team. She'd said he was important, that he had some mutant gene. Whatever. But if Sheppard so much as hesitated before carrying out an order, Sumner was going to own his ass. And that was no joke.
Behind him, the security team were swinging their heavy packs onto their backs, settling their weapons ready for use. No one knew what lay on the other side of the puddle, but he'd bet dollars to donuts it wouldn't be friendly. That was how the world worked, and he doubted the Pegasus galaxy would be any different. He paused, just for a moment, to feel the weight of the gun in his hands and to focus his mind. And then he stepped up onto the ramp and started walking.
"Let's go, people," he barked, "we don't know how much power we've got! Security teams one through four are up first. All other personnel will follow on our signal." He turned on the ramp and glanced back at his men. "Once on the other side, keep moving and clear the debarkation area." He turned back to the Stargate and began striding toward it. "On my lead."
"Hold on, Colonel!" It was Weir, her strident voice carrying through the bustle of the gate room. "We go through together."
Refusing to display his irritation he stopped again, and once more turned around. She was pushing through the crowd, her own pack so large he was surprised she didn't topple over. What the hell did she have in there? Hairdryer and rollers? Suddenly Sumner felt eyes on him, and looked over to see Sheppard watching him intently.
"Long as you remember who gives the orders. "
"That would be Dr Weir, right? "
Smug SOB. Sumner turned his attention back to Weir. What the hell — if she wanted to get her ass blown off in the first wave, who was he to argue? But all he said was, "Fair enough."
With his weapon raised, expecting everything and nothing, Sumner took a final glance at the gate room — and Earth — before stabbing through the event horizon and letting it shred him to pieces.
Daniel battled against a tidal wave of jealousy as he watched Elizabeth Weir standing at the top of the ramp. She'd paused, as so many did, on the cusp. He saw her take a deep breath and then, with no further hesitation, she stepped boldly through the gate and was gone.
He wondered briefly if he'd ever see her again, but the thought wasn't enough to distract him from the stomach-twisting envy. She was going to Atlantis! All these people were going to Atlantis, the place he'd been compulsively seeking for over a year. The city of the Ancients! He'd found it at last, but they were going and he had to stay home. It was just… wrong.
He glanced at Jack, who silently watched the Atlantis team make their final preparations. His face was impassive, but Daniel knew he was bound to share the sense of being left behind. At least to some degree. And, as usual, Daniel found it impossible to hold his tongue. "Jack, there's still time for me to-"
"No."
"But I-"
"No."
And then the radio crackled, and Sumner's faint voice could be heard. "All clear, it looks good!"
"Very well," Jack replied.
That was it, the final moment was upon them. Daniel clenched his teeth and turned to watch through the window.
At his side, Jack gave the order. "Expedition team, move out."
The exodus began. Scientists, soldiers, doctors, engineers, biologists, archeologists… The luckiest people alive, Daniel thought. They filed up the ramp in twos and threes, lugging their equipment behind them as they embarked on humanity's biggest adventure — without him.
A hand suddenly landed on his shoulder. "Come on," said Jack, brandishing a magnum of champagne, "let's go see them off."
With a sigh, Daniel followed him out of the control room. "I'm never going to forgive you for this," he pointed out as they trotted down the narrow steps into C-corridor.
"Yeah," Jack nodded. "Think I can live with that." At the bottom of the stairs Jack stopped and pinned Daniel with a serious look. "Don't get me wrong, what these people are doing is astonishing. It's important. And one day, they'll come back and tell us what they've discovered. But," he paused to let a couple of airman past, "but it's our job to give them a home to come back to. It's not over with Anubis, and you know it."
He was right, of course. And without a ZPM they had no defense against renewed attack. But it was just so…
"They have a job to do Daniel," said Jack. "So do we." And then he smiled, "Besides, Teal'c would miss you.
Daniel snorted a quiet laugh and they carried on walking. "Teal'c?"
"Sure. And Carter."
"As pep talks go, Jack, this is one of your.. less convincing.
"Thank you. I put a lot of thought into it."
Daniel didn't bother answering, but perhaps — maybe — it wasn't so bad to be left behind after all.
General O'Neill had been right when he'd said that Sheppard didn't scare easy. And it wasn't like he was scared as he stepped up to the ramp and came face-to-face with what looked like a shiny, vertical puddle. It was just that flying he knew, flying he understood. You had the stick, the bird did what you told it to, you knew where the ground was and you knew what would happen if you hit it too hard. But with this… Holy hell! McKay had given him a long-winded description, the gist of which had been that every molecule in his body would be torn apart, flung across the galaxy, and then reassembled at the other end.