"I'm acutely aware of that, Major. Thank you for reinforcing it."
Sarcasm. Nice. What did they call it, the lowest form of wit? Ignoring McKay's barb, he said, "When can you tell me where the Wraith took Colonel Sumner and the others?" He didn't mention Teyla by name, but it was the thought of her being swept up by the ice-white beam of light that was burned into his mind. He hated leaving people behind.
McKay made a show of condescending patience. "Even with the six symbols Lieutenant Ford provided, there are still hundreds of permutations-"
"Seven hundred and twenty," Sheppard told him. Who did the guy think he was dealing with? The paper boy?
McKay raised an eyebrow, impressed and clearly unwilling to show it. "I knew that, of course," he retorted. "I'm just surprised you do."
The smug son of a- "Take away the coordinates you can't get a lock on. That'll leave you with the right one." Sheppard made it into an order. "When you find it, send a MALP." Time McKay began to appreciate who was in charge around here.
To Sheppard's surprise the scientist didn't protest as he headed over to the DHD. He took that as a sign of progress…
"Major…? A word." It was Weir, and when he looked over at her he realized that her attention was fixed on the milling refugees from Teyla's village. After a moment she nodded to Ford. "Lieutenant, let's get those people settled somewhere else for the time being."
Ford snapped to attention; the kid was a bag of energy, even after all they'd been through. "Where would you like them, ma'am?"
She smiled. "Somewhere else. Thank you."
Her gaze slid back to Sheppard, and she inclined her head, inviting him to join her. But then she paused for a moment, glancing around — presumably looking for somewhere private to talk — before settling on a large glass door. "Come with me," she said, pushing the door open and leading him out onto a wide balcony.
The cool breeze and tang of salt air hit him instantly, scrubbing away his fatigue. He'd always loved the ocean, which, given their current situation, was amusing in an ironic kind of way. They walked in silence to the railing surrounding the balcony and gazed out across a sparkling ocean, blue as the sky above. There was no land in any direction, nothing but an endless azure sea. Briefly he wondered what would happen if a storm hit the city. He'd never been a good sailor…
At his side Weir lifted her face to the sun and closed her eyes, breathing out a sigh. He watched her for a moment, and then said, "Let me guess, you're not going to let me try to rescue our people…"
Her eyes opened, and the smile evaporated. "Major…" She looked at him, genuinely uncertain. "You don't even know if they're alive."
Irrelevant, and she knew it. "You don't leave people in the hands of the enemy," he snapped. "The fact that you're having this conversation in private says to me you know damn well it's not only wrong but would totally undermine your leadership. As ranking military officer, I-"
"Shut up and listen to me for a moment!"
Her outburst knocked him off track. Shut up?
"What do we know about the Wraith?" she asked. "One of the few things we do know is that they were the enemy that defeated the Ancients. An enemy worthy of our respect, wouldn't you agree?"
He would agree, but didn't want to give her the satisfaction of hearing it. He settled for a glare instead.
"When we first began to use the Stargate we found on Earth, we got ourselves into serious trouble. Why?"
"Look, I don't need a history lesson-"
"Because the people in charge didn't consider the ramifications before they reacted-"
"They've taken our people!" he objected. "How the hell am I supposed to react?"
"We're defenseless, Major," Weir pressed, "you said so yourself. How do you know that going off on a half-assed rescue mission won't bring them right back here to our doorstep?"
Half-assed? Who the hell did she think he was? "Maybe it will," he said, "but it's still the right thing to do." She was about to comment, but he forestalled the question. "Why? Because it is."
"John-"
"If we don't do this, and I mean right now, we might as well turn tail and pack up, because they'll be comin' anyway."
"You don't know that."
Was she joking? "Our people are in enemy hands, Doctor, what do you think that means?" He paused for a beat, to let it sink in. "It's a matter of time before the Wraith learn this is our base of operations, and they wanted this piece of real estate a long time ago.
He had her, he could tell. He could see her wavering, see the doubt in her dark eyes. "I just need more information. Who knows, maybe we could negotiate a peaceful-"
"Peaceful? Are you kidding me?" He almost laughed. "We hadn't been there more than a few hours when they showed up. What are the odds of that?"
Weir looked genuinely disturbed. "You're saying they came because of you?" He shrugged his agreement and her eyes darkened, her voice lowering. "Then isn't it possible that one of these people you brought back tipped them off?"
He met her gaze, and held it. Carefully he said, "Yeah, it's possible."
Weir all but flung her arms up in exasperation. "That's just the kind of snap decision-"
"Not all of them are bad," he interrupted hotly, "and if we intend to stick around we need friends."
"Okay, I see your point. Now see mine." Her chin lifted, indecision replaced with a hard resolve. "I will not authorize a rescue mission until I know there's even a remote chance of success and that I'm not just sending more good people, including you, to their deaths."
That was that. It was clear from her face that any further argument was futile. And, if he was honest, he understood her point. They had no idea where Sumner and the others had been taken — some kind of Wraith stronghold, perhaps? Without hard intel they'd be going in blind, and no one — not even he — could contemplate leading his men on a suicide mission.
With a nod he turned away, leaving Weir to enjoy the view as he headed back inside. He wasn't about to give this up, but Weir was right. They needed information, they needed facts, and he was damn well gonna make sure they got them.
The pain was all over, like being immersed in a bath of searing heat and light. She remembered screaming, although she had made no sound. She remembered running until the ground had fallen away from beneath her feet, and she remembered the fear — the breath-stealing fear — and that she'd wondered if this was how her mother had felt when she was taken.
After that everything had spun into darkness, a complete darkness that was only now beginning to crack. She heard the whisper of frightened voices, felt her limbs ache with the echo of pain and the hardness of the floor and the dampness of the fetid air. Her eyelids began to move, struggling to open.
At first all she could see around her were shadows, blue shadows within shadows. And then a hand touched her arm and she saw a face. Toran. He looked pale as a spirit, as if he were already dead.
"Are you all right?" he whispered.
Teyla nodded. "Where are we?"
It was a hopeless question, and Toran couldn't bring himself to answer. He simply shook his head, sitting back on his haunches like the prey at the end of a chase. Forcing herself to sit up, Teyla glanced around the cell. Colonel Sumner sat against the far wall with some of his men, and she found herself relieved that Major Sheppard was not among them. She hoped he had escaped. Five of her own people were huddled in the opposite corner — among them she recognized Halling's tall figure, although not that of his son, which was a small mercy. Halling was watching Sumner and his men, anger lurking beneath the terror in his eyes. He blamed the strangers for bringing the Wraith, and perhaps he blamed himself for bringing the strangers to the village.
She turned once more to Colonel Sumner and, as if sensing her gaze, he looked at her. His face was gaunt, some of the arrogance had fallen away. He too was frightened, although he hid it well. "Any idea what to expect?"