Sonny Whitelaw - The Chosen

Ignoring him, Yann continued, “We were hard pressed to prevent many of the Nemst villagers, and indeed many from other villages, from returning here to punish you for bringing the curse of the Wraith upon us.”

“ We brought the curse?” McKay was indignant. “Of all the insane—”

“Dr McKay,” Teyla warned him, “My boot is far heavier than Major Sheppard’s. And unlike the Major, I do not hold my blows.”

“We should not delay,” Yann continued, gesturing for them to step into the transport. “While the warriors have sworn fealty to me as the first Gene, several hundred Genes are now known. We believe the number may eventually exceed a thousand.”

“That’s good,” Major Sheppard replied. “It means that you should be able to make a real attempt at implementing Dalera’s long-term plan.”

“Without the need to resort to Wraithcraft,” Yann added. “However, the people of Nemst are determined in their resolve. They need find only one Gene to operate the transport in order to locate you.” He shook his head in shame. “Such thanks you do not deserve, but their voices are loud. I doubt we can quell them if you remain.”

Resting on the crutches that Dr Beckett had given her, Lisera offered Ford a smile that was no longer shy, or innocent. Teyla considered it more an expression of regality. An uneasy coldness touched her heart. Only the knowledge that so many Genes had been discovered tempered her fear that the Daleran society would once more be plunged back into the inequity that had driven both Dr McKay and Yann to act as they had.

“Hey, Lisera,” said Lieutenant Ford, moving closer. “You’re really getting the hang of those things. About the plaster—”

“The healer told me that he has used a similar method to set the bones of broken limbs. He assures me that the white rock can be removed with ease, when the time is right.” Lisera offered a wider smile to Yann, who came and stood by her side in an undeniably possessive manner.

“That’s…great,” Ford replied uncertainly.

Major Sheppard was talking quietly to Peryn, thanking him for his assistance and courage, and congratulating him on his newfound status as one of Dalera’s warriors. A Gene whom Teyla did not recognize touched the screen on the transport. Moments later, the doors opened to a familiar inn and the brisk smell of the ocean. This village, at least, had been left standing. That fact might yet give trouble to Yann, if there were others who thought as the townspeople of Nemst did and became resentful that the merchant had not suffered the same loss as they.

Lisera addressed them all. “I shall be forever grateful for having been privileged to see Atlantis. It is my hope that one day the Ancestors, including Dalera, will return there and take up their rightful position. Until that time comes, we—” She glanced around at the other Genes. “We will endeavor to lead our people as Dalera wished.”

McKay’s face hardened. He opened his mouth to speak, but Teyla’s warning look was sufficient. Curling his lips in distaste, he pulled the brace of Shields from around his neck, muttering something about Zelenka’s hypotheses having been proven useless anyway, and thrust the devices into Peryn’s hand before stalking out of the transport.

An uncomfortable silence followed, until Major Sheppard also removed his Shield and handed it to the young warrior. “Okay, well…Good luck.”

Touching his cap in farewell, Ford smiled at Lisera. “I kept my promise, right?”

“You did, Aiden Ford. And I shall never forget you. None of us will, for we intend to rebuild that which has been destroyed, and inscribe all of your names as great warriors from a world that is no longer legendary, but real.”

“Cool,” the Lieutenant replied. He then joined Teyla and the Major, waiting near the bar.

The transport doors closed. Teyla glanced at Major Sheppard, who stared longingly at a barrel in the corner. “Just wondering how well one of those barrels of beer would travel, and wondering if we could hide it.” He shot them a grin, but it was empty, and his face was pale and drawn.

Except for the chirping of a few night insects, coming awake now that the sun had fully set, the walk to the puddle jumper was made in silence. Immersed in his anger, Dr McKay apparently failed to notice that the Major’s step was becoming less certain. Teyla exchanged a look with Lieutenant Ford, but there was little more they could do for Major Sheppard until they reached Atlantis.

Once inside the jumper, McKay slouched into his seat and shook his head. “If I wasn’t living it, I wouldn’t believe a single detail of this,” he said as the preflight checks were completed with something less than flawless precision. “Haven’t we demonstrated clearly enough, through our blatant disregard for our personal safety during the attack on their world, that we’re on their side?”

“Do you view the situation so clearly, Doctor?” Teyla replied, feeling an immense weariness. “Without the immediate threat of the Wraith, and without the stability they once had, there will be many ‘sides’ among these people.”

The look McKay gave her in return was unexpected. It was not the haughty expression to which she had become accustomed, but a more subdued one. “You’re assuming that I’m utterly incapable of recognizing my own misjudgments,” he said, his tone cool. “I’m well aware of the role I played in this madness.”

Surprised, she met his gaze and discovered a reflection of her own conflicted thoughts. “Much has happened that we did not foresee,” she said finally. It was an odd sort of truce, but it would suffice for the moment.

“As rough as it’ll be to have to start over, the Dalerans kinda have a second chance to set things up right,” Lieutenant Ford offered from his place beside her. She envied his optimistic outlook. “Don’t you think, Major?”

Sheppard’s response was listless. “Let’s go home.”

The team’s final view of the Citadel was markedly different from its first. Then, there had been unabashed awe at its powerful stature. Now, the ruins of the Enclave, harshly lit by the rising twin planets, were visible from above. So too was all other evidence of the devastation brought by the Wraith and the Dalerans themselves. As the edifice became smaller in the windscreen, however, the areas of damage became less noticeable.

“They’ll rebuild,” Ford asserted, and Teyla wondered if he was trying to convince his teammates or himself.

“You want to know what drives me up the wall?” Dr McKay began, apparently dissatisfied with the silence that had fallen. “None of this had to happen. Granted, the Wraith attack was pretty much inevitable, but so much of the petty infighting was just unbelievably destructive and completely useless to anyone’s cause.”

The scientist’s latest tirade was little more than ambient noise to Teyla. If it helped his peace of mind to be speaking continuously, then so be it. She watched the sky around them darken from blue to black as the jumper climbed through the atmosphere. Before long, the Stargate came into view, and she realized that this strange, difficult journey was at last nearing its end.

“…not the best strategy ever devised. When confronted by the potential salvation of your civilization, try to lock it up in a cell. I recognize that most Earth cultures can’t point any fingers when it comes to acknowledging the greater good, but—”

“Rodney?” The interruption came from the pilot’s seat, cutting through McKay’s diatribe despite its low volume.

“What?”

Sheppard’s voice was strained. “You have the controls.”

McKay blinked in confusion, which turned instantly to shock as the Major slumped over in his seat, all color drained from his features.