AU Week 1: Ex astris spes
Title: Ex astris spes
Author: scrollgirl
Genre: AU
Prompt Celestial navigation
Word Count: 7070
Rating: PG
Warnings: Gen-ish (there's minor subtext)
Summary: When strangers come to Athos seeking help, Teyla discovers a glimmer of hope that the Wraith might one day be defeated after all.
Notes: (1) A thank you to my betas for the quick read-through! (2) This story is actually part of a series, but it should make sense on its own. (3) Toran has no relation to Teyla's son, Torren. (4) Title inspired by the Starfleet Academy motto (in turn inspired by Apollo 13's, in turn inspired by the US Naval Academy's). It means from the stars, hope.
Ex astris spes
After two days of closed-door negotiations, Teyla is grateful for the fresh air of the Lavanese harbour. It is a beautiful afternoon, the sky clear and bright, the waters calm and blue-jewelled, a cool ocean breeze ruffling the fronds of the palm trees that line the marina. Crowds are beginning to gather on the docks in anticipation of the launch--families with babies in slings, couples walking hand-in-hand, groups of friends already rowdy with drink.
Her diplomat's medallion gives Teyla access to the outermost pier, designated for officials and their guests, and there she finds Suhurta, perched on a boulder far beyond the safety ropes. The wind here is fiercer, and Teyla shivers in her pink sarong despite the sun-hot rock under her rear, but she can see why Suhurta chose this spot: it affords a panoramic view of the marina, the cliffs, and the open sea.
Suhurta shifts over to give Teyla room on her rattan mat, then offers half her blanket as well. "Where are your friends?" she asks, finally noticing that Teyla is alone.
"Elam decided to join your mother in the watchtower rather than risk her life on the rocks," says Teyla, her tone wry. "And Kanaan returned to Athos last night--today is the eighth anniversary of his daughter's mother being taken by the Wraith."
"Ah, I'm sorry." She pats Teyla on the back in awkward sympathy. "It must be difficult."
"Yes," says Teyla, and refrains from adding, you could never understand how difficult. Lavai is a paradise compared to most worlds. According to historians, after the great culling five generations ago, the Lavanese relocated the Ring of the Ancestors from the top of a barren cliff, overlooking a white sand beach, to the base of that same cliff. They positioned the Ring to open up on the cliff's sheer rock face, a security measure that forced travellers to go through on foot. While this has limited trade through the Ring, it has also discouraged the Wraith from sending darts, thus sparing Lavai of the smaller, sporadic cullings that plague other worlds.
While Teyla envies the Lavanese their safety, she could never disdain the gift of the Ring, nor the worlds she has visited. Not wishing to offend, she quickly reassures her friend that Kanaan's grief is in the past. "Today is about the future."
"Indeed it is," Suhurta agrees, her eyes gleaming with pride. "Mother says that an improved design for a second machine has already been commissioned. It will revolutionise how the Lavanese view transportation!"
Teyla cannot imagine why a people with so little interest in travelling might want a new form of transportation. Still, she cannot help getting caught up in the other woman's excitement, and when Suhurta exclaims, "Look, look!", jumping to her feet, Teyla stands as well, and follows her pointing finger to the summit of that historic cliff.
"There she is!"
Shading her eyes with a hand, Teyla looks to see the winged machine leap from the cliff and hang suspended in the air for a long, breathless moment, before dipping toward the ocean. Even over the surf's roar, Teyla can hear the machine's engine growling and sputtering, a large plume of black smoke trailing behind.
"It is falling!" Teyla cries, alarmed.
The machine curves around the harbour in a downward arc, and Teyla is certain it will soon crash into the watchtower or the buildings of the marina. But instead it begins to climb--slowly, slowly, it begins to climb high in the cloudless blue sky.
Suhurta shouts in excitement, waving her arms frantically as the machine and its pilot, Dian, soar past. "Cheers, Dian, cheers!" she yells, and continued yelling until she is nearly hoarse. "Isn't it wonderful, Teyla? Don't you wish you could fly?"
"Perhaps one day I will," Teyla laughs, her gaze fixed on the broad span of wings above her. "Perhaps one day."
* * *
Teyla and Elam return to Athos after three days of fruitful trade talks with the Lavanese. They have secured a beneficial agreement for their people, for which Teyla is glad to give Elam credit. The other woman is ten years Teyla's senior, but she has been a farmer for most of her life, and has only in the past two years begun to take a leadership role in trading.
"If only the Ancestors would give us Lavai's sun," Elam grumbles as they set out across the fields toward the village. The morning is cool and overcast, and a light fog dampens the air and the ground. Pulling a fur out of her pack, Elam wraps it about her shoulders. "Winter comes quickly this year."
Teyla hums an absent reply, her gaze already focused on the two men approaching from the direction of the village. Toran leads the way, his stride eager, while Kanaan lags a few steps behind. Even from this distance, Teyla can see his rueful expression.
Elam squints, then shakes her head, amused, when she recognised the men. "That Toran," she snorts. "You had better do something about him, Teyla, or he will soon believe your silence is equal to an understanding."
Wincing at the awkwardness that would likely ensue in such a scenario, Teyla nevertheless strives to speak lightly. "He is too respectful for such behaviour, Elam, surely, and I do not wish to embarrass us both by refusing him when he has not even spoken for himself."
"You are too kind for your own good," Elam chides her. "If you will not speak, let Kanaan speak for you. It is his duty as the elder brother to keep Toran in line, is it not?"
Teyla rolls her eyes. "Leave it be, Elam. Toran is not a child to be herded about by his brother." In all honesty, there are moments when she wishes Kanaan would intervene on her behalf, if only to spare her the aggravation of dealing with an unwanted suitor.
"Teyla, greetings!" Toran calls out, hurrying the last few paces. When he reaches them, he stops short with his hands out, not quite brave enough to embrace Teyla without her encouragement. After an awkward pause, he instead says, "Let me take your pack," and lifts it off her shoulder with a solicitous smile.
Behind his back, Elam wrinkles her nose and mouths, 'Talk to him!'
Kanaan arrives much more sedately, and were Toran not standing there, Teyla would have gladly welcomed his embrace. "Greetings, Teyla. Greetings, Elam. It's good to have you both home," he says warmly, and offers to take Elam's pack. She surrenders it without hesitation. Turning, he takes the lead back down the path to the village. "Tell me what I missed! Was the launch successful?" Kanaan asks over his shoulder. "Did they manage to keep that invention of theirs in the sky?"
"You should have seen it, Kanaan," says Teyla, smiling in memory of the wonderful flying machine. "I do not think I can describe it properly without illustrations."
"Oh, but you must share your stories at the fire tonight," Toran insists, one hand coming to rest lightly on Teyla's arm. "You are such a gifted story-teller, Teyla, and it is always a pleasure to hear you speak." He gazes at her very intently, almost fervently.
"I plan to speak at the fire, of course," she agrees, her tone carefully even; Toran's hand retreats to his side. It is one of Teyla's regular habits to speak upon returning from a trade mission, whether successful or not: she has a duty to keep her people informed. "I'm sure everyone will want to hear of Lavai's great achievement," she adds.
But to Teyla's surprise, there are some at the fire that night who are not excited about Lavai's flying machine. Halling seems sceptical that such an invention truly defies gravity--he argues what Teyla and Elam saw was merely a controlled fall. Phan keeps asking why the Lavanese sought to build such a thing in the first place, as though a machine that can soar as birds do needs a purpose beyond flight itself. One or two others grumble that no good ever comes from the sky: they have seen the Wraith darts to prove it.
"Do not mind them," Kanaan murmurs as he refills Teyla's cup. They sit apart from the others, having finally found a moment to speak alone as Charin has taken pity on Teyla and is keeping Toran occupied with errands. "What Lavai has accomplished is of great significance. Halling would be impressed if he could see it with his own eyes, I am certain."
Glancing across the fire at Halling with his son, Teyla shakes her head with a fond smile. "I will never understand how he fits so much faith and so much doubt in the same body."
"Well, there is room enough for both, a man of his size," says Kanaan, dark eyes laughing. Teyla shoves at him playfully, amused, then rests her head on his shoulder. "Halling is a good and steady man," he adds, more soberly, his voice a rumble in her ear, "but he is more concerned with the here and now. He does not have your vision--but then, few of our people do. Few believe we should try to reclaim the knowledge we have lost in the cullings."
"I would not wish Lavai to suffer Sateda's fate," Teyla concedes. "There is no value in technological advancement if the people do not survive to make use of it." It is with that reasoning their Athosian forebears left their ravaged city to became hunters and farmers and traders.
Kanaan hums his agreement. "Still, I would be glad to see this flying machine myself, the next time I visit--" He cuts off with a muttered oath. "My brother comes this way," he sighs, "and he does not look well pleased."
Teyla straightens up to see Toran marching toward them, young Ester at his heels. "Toran, Ester, please join us," she greets them, hoping to head off a jealous confrontation. But Toran nudges young Ester forward until she is stood before Kanaan.
"Father," she says breathlessly, "I need your help right away! With... something." Fumbling to a stop, the girl throws a pleading look at Toran, then makes a second attempt when no help comes from that corner. "Uncle says--I mean, I want, I'd like you to come back to the tent, to do something, uh. Important. Very, very important."
Teyla is still pressed close enough to feel Kanaan's silent laughter. "By the Ancestors, Ester, what could it be?" he exclaims with exaggerated concern. Ester giggles and pulls at his hand, urging him up. But before his daughter can drag him away, Kanaan turns to raise a challenging eyebrow at Toran, who has already stolen his seat beside Teyla. "Perhaps Teyla should come along too? Since it is so very important."
Flushing, Toran opens his mouth to protest--and while Teyla has no desire to slight him, she has run out of patience with his foolishness. "I am sure you can handle it, Kanaan," she tells her friend, setting aside her tea and rising to her feet. When Toran scrambles up after her, she looks him in the eye and favours him with a cool smile. "While I am usually happy to share the fire, my day has been long and full, and it is past time for me to find a good night's sleep."
"Of course," Toran stammers, immediately contrite. "You must be tired from the trade talks. Perhaps--perhaps we can share tea in the morning?"
"I will see you at breakfast," says Teyla, not quite saying 'yes'. "Good rest, Toran. Good rest, Kanaan, Ester."
"Good rest, Teyla," Kanaan replies, his smile sympathetic. "We shall see you in the morning."
* * *
Having high rank and yet no family, Teyla has the luxury of pitching a tent of her own, which she has opened to Charin and Charin's orphaned granddaughter; with such connections, it is habit to welcome the rest of Charin's family to her table at mealtimes. Other relations and close friends often drop by for gossip and a cup of tea, especially now with the harvest in and the days growing shorter, and so there is nothing remarkable about Toran sitting down at Teyla's table next to his friend Yinto, Charin's oldest grandson. He wisely keeps his distance, however, and makes an effort to be social to everyone gathered--to Teyla's relief, he appears to have remembered discretion some time during the night.
She is enjoying a second cup of lambeng tea when Halling calls from outside about bringing strangers to meet her. "Enter," Teyla calls back, smiling a greeting as the tall man ducks inside. But the three strangers that enter behind him are not the typical visitors she expects--they carry weapons and move like soldiers, and Teyla quickly stands and turns to match their movements, her every instinct clamouring for caution. Across the table, Toran is on his feet, a knife in one hand. Unsubtle, but then neither are the weapons these strangers carry.
Bending down, Halling says quietly to her, "These people wish to trade." There is wariness in his eyes, though his tone remains neutral.
The first stranger is a woman, tall with pale skin and short yellow hair. Teyla estimates her age to be somewhere between Elam's and Teyla's own. The other two are men, a tall one with pale skin and short brown hair, and a younger man with brown skin, wearing a black head covering. They all wear dark grey uniforms with black vests, and carry multiple weapons.
"We apologise for interrupting your meal," the woman says, taking a half-step forward, her smile ready and pleasing, her gaze unwavering. Teyla relaxes a fraction--she often delivers that same careful smile when dealing with new contacts.
"I am Teyla Emmagan," she introduces herself. Then adds, for good measure, "Daughter of Tagan." The title does not appear to mean anything to the woman, however, though she bobs her head in a friendly way.
"I'm Lieutenant Colonel Samantha Carter." The woman gestures to each of the men in turn. "Major Sheppard, Lieutenant Ford." The woman, Samantha Carter, makes a show of keeping her hands away from her weapon. "We're peaceful explorers, new to your stars. We hope to trade with you, for power--" There's a flicker of doubt as she takes in the tent and its occupants, Teyla notes. "--or possibly temporary shelter."
As opening gambits go it is hurried and lacking in guile, but a request for shelter immediately puts Teyla on her guard--if these people have recently been culled, they might be desperate enough to pillage other worlds to survive. Wary of such tactics, she makes her warning plain: "We do not trade with strangers."
Hesitating, Samantha Carter throws a wordless plea to the rest of her team, and--there. Teyla catches a flash of disappointment in the woman's blue eyes, gone a moment later. Who had she been expecting to find at her side? Perhaps she once had someone to lay the groundwork while she closed the deal, someone to play the persuader to her aggressor.
The man called Sheppard finally steps forward with a playful, almost flirtatious grin. "We'll just have to get to know each other, then, so we won't be strangers any more," he says easily, meeting Teyla's eyes with confidence. "Me, I like ferris wheels, college football, anything that goes more than two hundred miles per hour..."
The younger man, Ford, leans close to whisper, "Sir, that's not going to mean anything to them."
That is true enough: Sheppard's words are complete gibberish, and Samantha Carter's slight wince makes it clear that Sheppard is fumbling this meeting. The man might be handsome, with some natural charm, but his transparent attempt to win friends with nonsensical babbling is more amusing than anything else. Nonetheless, Teyla is drawn in. She can sense his nerves under that brazen exterior, and the contrarian in her respects his audacity.
Very well, then.
"Each morning, before dawn, our people drink a stout tea to brace us for the coming day." Teyla gestures at her breakfast table, gratified when Leza and Yinto automatically make room for the strangers. "Will you join us?" she asks. There; the door is open.
"Thank you," replies Samantha Carter, smiling again, relieved. "We would be pleased to join you." She takes the seat across to Teyla, with Sheppard to her right.
Leaning in, Sheppard murmurs, "I love a good cup of tea," half teasing, half honest confession. Turning to meet his gaze, she finds hazel eyes that laugh back at her, self-deprecating yet unembarrassed.
* * *
Their talk moves quickly, which Teyla anticipated. Negotiation is a dance, sometimes organic in its dynamics, bending to the personalities of those involved, and sometimes carefully orchestrated from before the first step is even taken. This meeting pushes Teyla's considerable skills: she and Colonel Carter are strangers to one another, forced to feel out what long-time trading partners would know by rote. They teeter unexpectedly as misunderstandings arise. But Colonel Carter has deliberately surrendered the lead by showing her people's urgent need, and Teyla, in full knowledge of the power she wields, is gracious in guiding the proceedings.
She learns that Colonel Carter is indeed a soldier, the military leader charged with the protection of a team of explorers. They set off unprepared from a distant world, and came through the Ring of the Ancestors to find themselves stranded, in danger of a terrible flood, with no higher ground to be had.
"And you seek sanctuary here on Athos?" Teyla asks, pouring more tea for her guests. "How many do you number?" If their group is too large, she will have to turn them away: taking in one or two refugees willing to assimilate is a different matter than welcoming an entire people into their midst, especially with winter on its way.
But Colonel Carter shakes her head. "We're still hoping we won't have to abandon our camp. You see, we've settled down in a place that was once inhabited by the Ancients," she says carefully, watching for Teyla's reaction. "They were a race of beings who lived thousands and thousands of years ago, the ones who built the stargate. The, uh, astria porta?"
The first term is not one Teyla recognises, but the second sounds like the Ancestor language. "We know these beings as the Ancestors, and the device through which you travelled as the Ring of the Ancestors." It begins to make sense to Teyla why these explorers might leave their homeworld so unprepared for the dangers they might face--they would hardly be the first group to take foolish risks in hopes of learning the secrets of the Ancestors. "You mentioned before that you were in search of power. What did you mean by this?"
Colonel Carter and Sheppard exchange worried looks. "There is a protective wall, built by the Ancestors, that could stop our camp from flooding," the Colonel replies. "But we don't have enough power--fuel--to make it work. We need a device that looks like this," and she pulls out a scrap of paper with an ink sketch of a crystalline structure. "It's mostly yellow and orange in colour, and lit from within. Its dimensions are about this long--" The Colonel holds her hands two heads apart. "--and this big in circumference." She holds her hands in a circle slightly smaller than a head around.
It is not familiar to Teyla at all, nor to the others around the table. "I have not seen anything like that, Colonel--but my people rarely trade in Ancestor technology."
"Ah," says the Colonel, not quite able to hide her disappointment. "Maybe, if you're willing, you could introduce--"
"Colonel," a crackling voice from nowhere interrupts her. "This is Sergeant Bates--come in?"
Colonel Carter reaches for a small black box sitting on her left shoulder. "This is Carter." The man on the other end of the communication device requests the Colonel to come see something out by the entrance of the camp, and with an apologetic nod she exits the tent into the morning sunshine.
By the time the Colonel returns, Kanaan has joined their table, his trousers still soaked from the knees down with lake water after bringing in the morning catch. Major Sheppard is trying to describe a flying machine called a 'helicopter' by moving his finger in wide circles above his head--looking so comical that Kanaan has to hide an amused smile--but he stops talking and stands at attention when Colonel Carter marches back into the tent. Teyla and the others also stand, respectful.
"Teyla, there looks like ruins of a city on the other side of the lake." The Colonel is nearly vibrating with excitement. "I think we might be able to find something there that will help us."
"The city of the Ancestors is not safe," Toran protests immediately. Taken back by his outburst, Colonel Carter tries to assure him that they will be careful, but Toran only stares at her, alarmed. "The Wraith will come!"
"Who are these Wraith?" the Colonel asks, looking genuinely confused.
Kanaan shares a look of surprise with Teyla, then says, caution tempering his tone, "We have never met anyone who did not know."
If this is a Wraith worshipper trick, it is the oddest Teyla has ever seen--but Colonel Carter and Sheppard and Ford continue to look bewildered. She frowns at them, impatient. "If the Wraith have never touched your world, you should go back there!" She already thought these so-called explorers woefully unprepared for the dangers of Ring travel, but what kind of fools did not know to fear the Wraith?
The Colonel shakes her head, worry and frustration drawing lines on her face. "I was being honest when I said we couldn't return to our world. Again, we don't have enough power to make the journey home."
Teyla quickly makes a decision. "If this is true, I must take you to the caves--to show you what the Wraith are."
Studying her for a moment, Colonel Carter nods. "But I'd still like to send the rest of my team to explore the city. If there's a chance we can find something to help our people, we have to try," she insists.
Toran's fear of the city is rooted in children's bedtime stories, passed down through generations. "Our people have long believed that the Wraith will come if we venture into the old city," Teyla replies. "But it is a belief we have not tested in some time."
Teyla has always been sceptical of the all-seeing eye of the Wraith.
"When you say 'city of the Ancestors'," asks Ford, head tipped to one side, "do you mean your ancestors? Or the Ancestors?"
"It is both," Kanaan tells him, "at least according to the chronicles. Many, many generations ago, before the last great culling, our forebears built a city within the ruins of an Ancestral city. As you can see, we have since abandoned it." He pauses a moment, considering. "Teyla, what if I were to go with them to the old city?"
"Brother, you cannot be serious!" Toran exclaims.
"There is no reason to think the Wraith would monitor a city they destroyed centuries ago," Kanaan argues. "We should be safe to explore, so long as we are careful."
Teyla holds up a hand to forestall Toran's next objection. "Kanaan's suggestion has merit," she says. "Colonel Carter, you may send some of your team with Kanaan to the old city, and I will bring you to the caves."
"Actually, I'm going to send Major Sheppard with you, if you don't mind," the Colonel decides. "I'm probably the best person to examine any technology we might find in the city, and you," she gives Sheppard a pointed look, "are going to get some quality first contact experience if I have to throw you into the deep end."
"Yes, ma'am!" Sheppard replies smartly, then turns to Teyla with a flirty smile.
Biting down a laugh, Teyla takes her leave of Colonel Carter and Lieutenant Ford. "Be careful," she tells Kanaan, squeezing his arm.
"You too," he smirks, glancing back at Sheppard. Teyla rolls her eyes.
"Come, Major," she calls, striding down the path toward the forest. "Try to keep up!"
* * *
How differently events might have unfolded had she changed but one small detail? Three months into the future, Teyla will look back on this moment and understand the full consequences of her decision. She will mourn for Athos, and for Toran; she will walk a knife's edge of hope each day; she will fight alongside the people of Earth and fear that even their strength will not be enough to defeat the Wraith.
* * *
Wraith. She feels their gnawing presence even before she is fully cognizant. Blinking her eyes open, she finds Halling and Toran leaning over her, terror in their eyes.
"Are you all right?" Toran asks, his voice shaking.
She has no good answer for him. Sitting up, she takes in her surroundings, the cold, smooth floor and the irregular walls. "Where are we?" The last thing she remembers is racing through the forest, desperate to get back to her people, the whine of Wraith darts filling the night sky. She must have been culled, though she does not see Sheppard amongst the others in their prison.
There is Halling, Toran, Ileen, Meying, Gromin, and herself. Of the strangers, there are three men, plus Colonel Carter, whose eyes are fixed on the corridor outside of their prison cell.
"They took our weapons," the woman says, glancing over her shoulder at Teyla. "Any idea what to expect?"
"No," says Teyla, her tone sharp, rising to her feet. She was wrong--she never should have let the strangers enter the old city. Her only comfort is that Kanaan is not here, and that surely he will lead the rest of their people to safety.
The Colonel walks up to Toran with a suspicious frown. "You're the one who said the Wraith would come if we went down into the ruins."
Halling pulls Toran away. "Perhaps you should have heeded his warning," he snaps. He might have said more, but the heavy tread of Wraith soldiers begin to ring in the corridor.
"Stand back," Teyla tells her people, herding them against the wall, seeing the Colonel do the same with her men.
The bars of their cell part without a touch, like magic, and a Wraith enters, its yellow fangs bared in a snarl, its white hair gleaming almost purple in the dim light. Behind him are two Wraith guards, their faces masked, weapons in hand.
Colonel Carter steps forward. "I'm Lieutenant Colonel Samantha Car--" But the Wraith shoves, its clawed hand not even touching her chest, and the Colonel flies through the air to smack painfully against the wall.
Its slitted eyes flick from the Colonel's men to Ileen to Halling to Teyla, lingering on her throat, before finally settling on Toran. Hissing, it gestures at him--one of the Wraith guards wraps its long fingers around Toran's throat to drag him away.
Horrified, Teyla protests, "Take me in his place!"
"No, take me!" Colonel Carter shouts, scrambling to her feet. "We're the ones you're after, right? I'm their leader!" But the Wraith have no ears for the begging and crying of their human herd. They turn and leave without a second glance, the gate weaving itself closed behind them. The Colonel stares after Toran with a sickened expression.
If she truly did not know the Wraith before, she knew now.
The strangers confer amongst themselves in whispered voices, the one named Sergeant Bates turning often to glare at her with hostility. Ignoring him, Teyla gathers her people together, speaking to each of them directly to lend them her strength, to reassure them that at least their families have been spared--but it is difficult to instill a sense of serenity when Toran's fate rankles at the back of everyone's minds. Her people have lost loved ones to the Wraith in the past--Ileen her sister, Gromin his father, Halling his wife--snatched away by the culling beam of a dart, or by Wraith soldiers who come through the Ring with stun weapons.
Teyla hears Colonel Carter use words like 'rescue' and 'escape', but she knows better than to listen to false hope. With the Wraith, there is only running and hiding, going to ground in caves and secret shelters, the same way an animal evades the hunter that pursues it. And when there is no more cover, when there is no place left to flee, and the prey is well and truly caught--then, there is only a painful, gruesome death.
Hours pass, it seems, and Teyla is actually beginning to get bored when the stomp of boots alert her to the return of the Wraith. Meying wakes from a light doze, startled and whimpering in fear; Ileen hushes her. They all rise to their feet, ready to run though there is nowhere to go.
Stalking over to Colonel Carter, the Wraith stares at her for a long moment, then stalks back out. Before the Wraith guards can move, the Colonel takes a step forward, pausing only long enough to tell her men: "Wait for Sheppard. That's an order." She walks out of the cell with her chin held high.
"Colonel!" Bates clutches the bars of the cell as though he could tear them apart with his bare hands. "If anything happens to her," he snarls at Teyla, but at this point there is nothing with which he can threaten her, and they both know it.
"Maybe it's them," Gromin mutters under his breath, too quiet for Bates and the others to hear, though they stare at Teyla and her people with similar suspicion. "They must have done something to bring the Wraith."
"If so, it was not intentional," says Teyla, her tone firm. There is no point in accusing the strangers of being Wraith worshippers when they have no proof--and especially when she is the one who gave them passage into the city of the Ancestors.
Halling shakes his head. "I cannot believe that they have never heard of the Wraith before today. It is impossible."
"Perhaps the Wraith will feed on them and spare us," says Gromin, bitter and defeated; he and Henni were to be married at the midwinter festival this year.
Ileen stares at him, appalled. "Gromin, how can you say that? Toran--" She bites her lip, close to tears. "Toran is--"
But Teyla cuts her off, one hand lifted. "Quiet." Moving to the gate, she peers up and down the corridor, straining to listen. There. Footsteps. Two, maybe three. Not Wraith.
"Major?" she says, shocked to her core. It is Sheppard and Ford, and a woman--small, pale skin, red hair--and they are here, armed with weapons, moving stealthily in the heart of a Wraith stronghold. Impossible.
"Shh," Sheppard hisses. "Are you okay?" He peers into the cell behind her.
"How did you find us?" Teyla whispers, still unable to believe it.
Halling asks a more important question: "Is my son alive?" His fear and hope ring loud despite his hushed words.
"Jinto's fine, they're all fine," says Sheppard quickly. "But where's Colonel Carter?"
"She was taken by the Wraith," says Bates, nodding up the corridor in the direction the Wraith had gone. "Maybe five minutes ago. Not sure where, exactly."
"Dammit, Sam," Sheppard mutters, then speaks through his communication device to his men, ordering them to be ready to create a diversion. "Ford, on my signal, blow a hole and get everyone out of here, okay? Cadman and I will get the Colonel." He holds up a device that looks like Ancestor technology, moving it this way and that, then nods to the red-haired woman.
"I should come with you guys," Ford whispers, even as he begins moulding some kind of clay onto the bars of the cell. "Bates can blow the door."
But Sheppard is already heading off, Cadman close behind. "If we're not back in twenty minutes," Sheppard says, "you blow the door and tell Mehra to fly you out of here!" The two of them turn a corner and are gone.
Exchanging grim looks, Ford and Bates work quickly and quietly, sticking clay to the places where the bars criss-cross. "Teyla, when I get the Major's signal, I need your people to get as far away from the door as you can," Ford tells her as he carefully presses little blinking lights into the clay. "It's going to explode, and I don't want anyone getting hurt."
"I understand," says Teyla, though she is not quite certain that she does. The clay does not look anything like black powder, which some worlds use to explode rocks for mining.
They wait, tense and still, silent except for the occasional rustle of clothing and Meying's unsteady breaths. Finally, two clicks come through on Ford's communication device, and he grabs for it. "This is Ford--go ahead, sir."
"We've got the Colonel," Sheppard's voice comes through, tinny and flat, but wonderfully welcome to Teyla's ears. "She's hurt, but not--" A sudden staccato of weapon fire cuts him off before the device goes silent.
Ford's eyes grow wide and he clutches at the device. "Major Sheppard, come in!"
It clicks again, Sheppard shouting, "Blow it, blow it!"
"Everyone back!" says Bates, pushing Teyla and the others to the far wall, putting his arms around Meying's head to protect her.
Ford is out of sight, but he yells, "Fire in the hole!" and suddenly there is a concussive sound, noise and heat and pressure, and the bars of the cell fly apart like matchsticks. Through smoke and ash, Teyla sees Ford waving at them through a gap in the prison gate. "Come on, this way!"
They run, Ford in the lead with Teyla right behind him, while Bates takes the rear. In the distance, Teyla hears more explosions going off--a diversion from Sheppard's men--then suddenly, a siren is piercing her ears, shrill and painful. "The Wraith will be upon us soon!" she gasps, racing around a corner, nearly stepping on Ford's heels.
"Sheppard, come in!" Ford tries a few times before the Major finally responds.
"We're on the move! Where are you?"
"Almost outside," Ford pants as they round another corner, then--a door, still unguarded by some miracle of the Ancestors, sliding open. "We're out, we're out!"
"Go, go!" says Sheppard. "We're right behind you!"
Two more of Sheppard's soldiers appear from their hiding spots in the trees and take up position just outside the door to the Wraith stronghold--to make sure Colonel Carter and Major Sheppard are the ones to follow, and not the Wraith. Ford grabs Meying's hand and races down the hillside, the rest of Teyla's people streaming behind them.
Slowing down, Teyla dares a glance back at the Wraith stronghold, amazed to see fire and smoke rising from a half dozen different places. "I cannot believe it," she whispers, then startles when Bates shoves at her shoulder.
"Come on, what are you waiting for!" he shouts, trying to hurry her. But at that moment, Sheppard and Cadman emerge from the stronghold with Colonel Carter, her arms slung around their necks--Bates runs to help them. When three Wraith guards burst out of the door, Cadman spins around and opens fire. The two soldiers holding the door also start shooting, while Sheppard and Bates drags Colonel Carter out of the way.
One of the Wraith guard collapses, but the other two keep lurching forward. "Don't let them grab you!" Cadman yells at the two soldiers. "Keep firing, and retreat to the jumper!" One soldier throws himself to the ground, narrowly dodging a stun blast.
"Here, let me take her," Teyla tells Sheppard, pulling the Colonel's left arm over her shoulders, freeing Sheppard to use his weapon. Between Teyla and Bates, and the Colonel's semiconscious state, they manage to stumble their way down the hill while the others keep firing to keep the Wraith at a distance. Overhead she hears the whine of darts.
In a wide clearing at the base of the hill, there is the most curious vehicle Teyla has ever seen. It is nearly twice her height, and five times that in length, and cylindrical, its metal a light brown colour with no sheen to it. One end has a lowered ramp, Ford standing guard as Teyla's people climb inside.
"We've got incoming," Ford shouts, and the instant Sheppard's last man clears the ramp, he slams a lever that raises it up. "Mehra, go, go!"
Teyla gasps when she realises the vehicle is lifting off the ground, the ramp closing slowly enough for her to see the tree-line wobbling. Yelling for everyone to sit down and shut up, Sheppard shoves past Halling and Ileen to reach the far end of the flying machine. The small, brown-skinned woman sitting at the front gives up her seat immediately, saying breathlessly, "Thank God--I have no clue what I'm doing."
A quiet moan in her ear reminds Teyla of her burden. She and Bates ease Colonel Carter to the floor, Bates swearing when he catches sight of the Colonel's chest. Her shirt has been torn in half, baring her torso save for the breast band she wears--but what Bates is staring at is the bloody hand-print of a wound just below her collar bone.
"A feeding mark," Teyla murmurs to herself, astonished yet again. When Bates gives her a sharp look, she explains, "It is how they feed--they press their feeding hands against your chest to drain away your life."
"'M fine," the Colonel groans, lifting her head to stare dazedly around her. "Where are we?"
"An Ancient ship of some kind," Bates says, then adds, "Sheppard's flying it." When his eyes stray back down to her chest, the Colonel frowns and starts fumbling with her jacket. "Ma'am." Bates covers her hands until she relaxes, then lines the bottom ends of the jacket together, pulling a tiny metal tab up the middle so that the two sides fuse together.
"Thanks," the Colonel says. "Now, get me up there." Grimacing in pain, the Colonel uses Bates' shoulder to lever herself to her feet; Bates steadies her, his mouth pressed in a thin line, but he makes no protest.
Teyla follows them to the front, then slams to a halt, one hand coming up to clutch at a convenient wall. The sky is black. No--in fact, they are not in the sky. This flying machine--this Ancestral machine--has taken them beyond the sky, taken them so far above the ground that the Wraith world is nothing but a blue curve filling half the window.
"We're cloaked, ma'am," Ford tells the Colonel, turning in his chair. She has seated herself behind Sheppard, with Bates at her side like a watchdog. "We're heading for a gate that's in orbit." But a few moments later, Ford sees something that makes him swear.
Leaning over his shoulder, Teyla clenches her fists at the sight of several Wraith darts surrounding a Ring of the Ancestors that hangs in the darkness above the planet. "What can we do?"
"We're safe as long as they can't see us," Ford tells her--but he sounds uncertain.
"They don't have to," says Sheppard, mostly calm, only the faintest thread of tension in his voice. "There's only one way for us to go. The minute we activate the stargate, they can start shooting blind and blow us away on our approach."
"Can you draw them away from the gate?" asks the Colonel. "Then double back?"
Taking a deep breath, Sheppard nods. "Decloaking... now."
The field of stars outside the window swing wildly away, a blur of lines--but Teyla feels nothing, no sense of acceleration or torque, no change in the slight vibration of the flying machine. But images suddenly appear like magic before Sheppard's face, showing one dot being pursued by other dots, and she has to believe that they really are flying very, very fast.
"Get ready to dial the gate on my mark," Sheppard tells Ford, whose hands immediately hover over the controls between their seats. "Dammit," mutters Sheppard, and again the stars swing back and forth. Fire blooms once, twice, just at the edges of the flying machine's window. A third fire explodes directly in front of them, too close to avoid, and the machine shudders from the near miss. "Ford, you see a weapons console over there?" But two seconds after Sheppard speaks, a bright yellow light streaks ahead on their left before curving away. One of the dots chasing their dot suddenly vanishes.
"Holy Hannah!" the Colonel exclaims, startled. "Drone weapons, nice."
"The cloak's damaged," Sheppard reports. "I think. Dial the Gate, Lieutenant--we gotta get out of here." When the stars again spin madly, Teyla knows he is sending the flying machine back to the Ring. Ford punches in the symbols of an address Teyla does not recognise, and the waters of the Ring plume out, shockingly bright in the blackness of space between the stars. The two Wraith darts guarding it remain in position.
"What's the range on these things?" Ford mutters, holding up a black, rectangular device with many tiny buttons. Outside, more yellow lights race past them to blow up one of the darts.
"It's fine, Lieutenant," the Colonel tells him. When Ford frowns, doubting, she lifts an eyebrow. "Hey, I built the thing, remember?"
Ford grins. "Yes, ma'am."
Sheppard destroys the last dart guarding the Ring, then barks, "Enter your code! Hang on, people, two bandits on our tail!" He aims the flying machine straight at the Ring's glimmering pool of light. Teyla gasps, the Ring growing bigger and bigger as they speed towards it.
"We're going too fast!" shouts Ford, grabbing at the console--but there is nothing he can do.
Sheppard's eyes are narrowed, his jaw clenched in concentration, hands steady on the controls. If he can do this--if he can thread the Ring like the eye of a needle, Teyla will believe it. Her thoughts are too frantic to know what she will believe--that there is hope? That the impossible is now possible, and 'rescue' and 'escape' are no longer meaningless words? That flying machines might one day free her people from the shadow of the Wraith?
Suddenly the Ring is upon them, shockingly huge in the window, its light blinding, and Ford shoves his back into his chair, bracing himself for impact. But Teyla--seasoned traveller that she is--leans forward into the cold embrace of the waters.
Hoping.
Author: scrollgirl
Genre: AU
Prompt Celestial navigation
Word Count: 7070
Rating: PG
Warnings: Gen-ish (there's minor subtext)
Summary: When strangers come to Athos seeking help, Teyla discovers a glimmer of hope that the Wraith might one day be defeated after all.
Notes: (1) A thank you to my betas for the quick read-through! (2) This story is actually part of a series, but it should make sense on its own. (3) Toran has no relation to Teyla's son, Torren. (4) Title inspired by the Starfleet Academy motto (in turn inspired by Apollo 13's, in turn inspired by the US Naval Academy's). It means from the stars, hope.
Ex astris spes
After two days of closed-door negotiations, Teyla is grateful for the fresh air of the Lavanese harbour. It is a beautiful afternoon, the sky clear and bright, the waters calm and blue-jewelled, a cool ocean breeze ruffling the fronds of the palm trees that line the marina. Crowds are beginning to gather on the docks in anticipation of the launch--families with babies in slings, couples walking hand-in-hand, groups of friends already rowdy with drink.
Her diplomat's medallion gives Teyla access to the outermost pier, designated for officials and their guests, and there she finds Suhurta, perched on a boulder far beyond the safety ropes. The wind here is fiercer, and Teyla shivers in her pink sarong despite the sun-hot rock under her rear, but she can see why Suhurta chose this spot: it affords a panoramic view of the marina, the cliffs, and the open sea.
Suhurta shifts over to give Teyla room on her rattan mat, then offers half her blanket as well. "Where are your friends?" she asks, finally noticing that Teyla is alone.
"Elam decided to join your mother in the watchtower rather than risk her life on the rocks," says Teyla, her tone wry. "And Kanaan returned to Athos last night--today is the eighth anniversary of his daughter's mother being taken by the Wraith."
"Ah, I'm sorry." She pats Teyla on the back in awkward sympathy. "It must be difficult."
"Yes," says Teyla, and refrains from adding, you could never understand how difficult. Lavai is a paradise compared to most worlds. According to historians, after the great culling five generations ago, the Lavanese relocated the Ring of the Ancestors from the top of a barren cliff, overlooking a white sand beach, to the base of that same cliff. They positioned the Ring to open up on the cliff's sheer rock face, a security measure that forced travellers to go through on foot. While this has limited trade through the Ring, it has also discouraged the Wraith from sending darts, thus sparing Lavai of the smaller, sporadic cullings that plague other worlds.
While Teyla envies the Lavanese their safety, she could never disdain the gift of the Ring, nor the worlds she has visited. Not wishing to offend, she quickly reassures her friend that Kanaan's grief is in the past. "Today is about the future."
"Indeed it is," Suhurta agrees, her eyes gleaming with pride. "Mother says that an improved design for a second machine has already been commissioned. It will revolutionise how the Lavanese view transportation!"
Teyla cannot imagine why a people with so little interest in travelling might want a new form of transportation. Still, she cannot help getting caught up in the other woman's excitement, and when Suhurta exclaims, "Look, look!", jumping to her feet, Teyla stands as well, and follows her pointing finger to the summit of that historic cliff.
"There she is!"
Shading her eyes with a hand, Teyla looks to see the winged machine leap from the cliff and hang suspended in the air for a long, breathless moment, before dipping toward the ocean. Even over the surf's roar, Teyla can hear the machine's engine growling and sputtering, a large plume of black smoke trailing behind.
"It is falling!" Teyla cries, alarmed.
The machine curves around the harbour in a downward arc, and Teyla is certain it will soon crash into the watchtower or the buildings of the marina. But instead it begins to climb--slowly, slowly, it begins to climb high in the cloudless blue sky.
Suhurta shouts in excitement, waving her arms frantically as the machine and its pilot, Dian, soar past. "Cheers, Dian, cheers!" she yells, and continued yelling until she is nearly hoarse. "Isn't it wonderful, Teyla? Don't you wish you could fly?"
"Perhaps one day I will," Teyla laughs, her gaze fixed on the broad span of wings above her. "Perhaps one day."
* * *
Teyla and Elam return to Athos after three days of fruitful trade talks with the Lavanese. They have secured a beneficial agreement for their people, for which Teyla is glad to give Elam credit. The other woman is ten years Teyla's senior, but she has been a farmer for most of her life, and has only in the past two years begun to take a leadership role in trading.
"If only the Ancestors would give us Lavai's sun," Elam grumbles as they set out across the fields toward the village. The morning is cool and overcast, and a light fog dampens the air and the ground. Pulling a fur out of her pack, Elam wraps it about her shoulders. "Winter comes quickly this year."
Teyla hums an absent reply, her gaze already focused on the two men approaching from the direction of the village. Toran leads the way, his stride eager, while Kanaan lags a few steps behind. Even from this distance, Teyla can see his rueful expression.
Elam squints, then shakes her head, amused, when she recognised the men. "That Toran," she snorts. "You had better do something about him, Teyla, or he will soon believe your silence is equal to an understanding."
Wincing at the awkwardness that would likely ensue in such a scenario, Teyla nevertheless strives to speak lightly. "He is too respectful for such behaviour, Elam, surely, and I do not wish to embarrass us both by refusing him when he has not even spoken for himself."
"You are too kind for your own good," Elam chides her. "If you will not speak, let Kanaan speak for you. It is his duty as the elder brother to keep Toran in line, is it not?"
Teyla rolls her eyes. "Leave it be, Elam. Toran is not a child to be herded about by his brother." In all honesty, there are moments when she wishes Kanaan would intervene on her behalf, if only to spare her the aggravation of dealing with an unwanted suitor.
"Teyla, greetings!" Toran calls out, hurrying the last few paces. When he reaches them, he stops short with his hands out, not quite brave enough to embrace Teyla without her encouragement. After an awkward pause, he instead says, "Let me take your pack," and lifts it off her shoulder with a solicitous smile.
Behind his back, Elam wrinkles her nose and mouths, 'Talk to him!'
Kanaan arrives much more sedately, and were Toran not standing there, Teyla would have gladly welcomed his embrace. "Greetings, Teyla. Greetings, Elam. It's good to have you both home," he says warmly, and offers to take Elam's pack. She surrenders it without hesitation. Turning, he takes the lead back down the path to the village. "Tell me what I missed! Was the launch successful?" Kanaan asks over his shoulder. "Did they manage to keep that invention of theirs in the sky?"
"You should have seen it, Kanaan," says Teyla, smiling in memory of the wonderful flying machine. "I do not think I can describe it properly without illustrations."
"Oh, but you must share your stories at the fire tonight," Toran insists, one hand coming to rest lightly on Teyla's arm. "You are such a gifted story-teller, Teyla, and it is always a pleasure to hear you speak." He gazes at her very intently, almost fervently.
"I plan to speak at the fire, of course," she agrees, her tone carefully even; Toran's hand retreats to his side. It is one of Teyla's regular habits to speak upon returning from a trade mission, whether successful or not: she has a duty to keep her people informed. "I'm sure everyone will want to hear of Lavai's great achievement," she adds.
But to Teyla's surprise, there are some at the fire that night who are not excited about Lavai's flying machine. Halling seems sceptical that such an invention truly defies gravity--he argues what Teyla and Elam saw was merely a controlled fall. Phan keeps asking why the Lavanese sought to build such a thing in the first place, as though a machine that can soar as birds do needs a purpose beyond flight itself. One or two others grumble that no good ever comes from the sky: they have seen the Wraith darts to prove it.
"Do not mind them," Kanaan murmurs as he refills Teyla's cup. They sit apart from the others, having finally found a moment to speak alone as Charin has taken pity on Teyla and is keeping Toran occupied with errands. "What Lavai has accomplished is of great significance. Halling would be impressed if he could see it with his own eyes, I am certain."
Glancing across the fire at Halling with his son, Teyla shakes her head with a fond smile. "I will never understand how he fits so much faith and so much doubt in the same body."
"Well, there is room enough for both, a man of his size," says Kanaan, dark eyes laughing. Teyla shoves at him playfully, amused, then rests her head on his shoulder. "Halling is a good and steady man," he adds, more soberly, his voice a rumble in her ear, "but he is more concerned with the here and now. He does not have your vision--but then, few of our people do. Few believe we should try to reclaim the knowledge we have lost in the cullings."
"I would not wish Lavai to suffer Sateda's fate," Teyla concedes. "There is no value in technological advancement if the people do not survive to make use of it." It is with that reasoning their Athosian forebears left their ravaged city to became hunters and farmers and traders.
Kanaan hums his agreement. "Still, I would be glad to see this flying machine myself, the next time I visit--" He cuts off with a muttered oath. "My brother comes this way," he sighs, "and he does not look well pleased."
Teyla straightens up to see Toran marching toward them, young Ester at his heels. "Toran, Ester, please join us," she greets them, hoping to head off a jealous confrontation. But Toran nudges young Ester forward until she is stood before Kanaan.
"Father," she says breathlessly, "I need your help right away! With... something." Fumbling to a stop, the girl throws a pleading look at Toran, then makes a second attempt when no help comes from that corner. "Uncle says--I mean, I want, I'd like you to come back to the tent, to do something, uh. Important. Very, very important."
Teyla is still pressed close enough to feel Kanaan's silent laughter. "By the Ancestors, Ester, what could it be?" he exclaims with exaggerated concern. Ester giggles and pulls at his hand, urging him up. But before his daughter can drag him away, Kanaan turns to raise a challenging eyebrow at Toran, who has already stolen his seat beside Teyla. "Perhaps Teyla should come along too? Since it is so very important."
Flushing, Toran opens his mouth to protest--and while Teyla has no desire to slight him, she has run out of patience with his foolishness. "I am sure you can handle it, Kanaan," she tells her friend, setting aside her tea and rising to her feet. When Toran scrambles up after her, she looks him in the eye and favours him with a cool smile. "While I am usually happy to share the fire, my day has been long and full, and it is past time for me to find a good night's sleep."
"Of course," Toran stammers, immediately contrite. "You must be tired from the trade talks. Perhaps--perhaps we can share tea in the morning?"
"I will see you at breakfast," says Teyla, not quite saying 'yes'. "Good rest, Toran. Good rest, Kanaan, Ester."
"Good rest, Teyla," Kanaan replies, his smile sympathetic. "We shall see you in the morning."
* * *
Having high rank and yet no family, Teyla has the luxury of pitching a tent of her own, which she has opened to Charin and Charin's orphaned granddaughter; with such connections, it is habit to welcome the rest of Charin's family to her table at mealtimes. Other relations and close friends often drop by for gossip and a cup of tea, especially now with the harvest in and the days growing shorter, and so there is nothing remarkable about Toran sitting down at Teyla's table next to his friend Yinto, Charin's oldest grandson. He wisely keeps his distance, however, and makes an effort to be social to everyone gathered--to Teyla's relief, he appears to have remembered discretion some time during the night.
She is enjoying a second cup of lambeng tea when Halling calls from outside about bringing strangers to meet her. "Enter," Teyla calls back, smiling a greeting as the tall man ducks inside. But the three strangers that enter behind him are not the typical visitors she expects--they carry weapons and move like soldiers, and Teyla quickly stands and turns to match their movements, her every instinct clamouring for caution. Across the table, Toran is on his feet, a knife in one hand. Unsubtle, but then neither are the weapons these strangers carry.
Bending down, Halling says quietly to her, "These people wish to trade." There is wariness in his eyes, though his tone remains neutral.
The first stranger is a woman, tall with pale skin and short yellow hair. Teyla estimates her age to be somewhere between Elam's and Teyla's own. The other two are men, a tall one with pale skin and short brown hair, and a younger man with brown skin, wearing a black head covering. They all wear dark grey uniforms with black vests, and carry multiple weapons.
"We apologise for interrupting your meal," the woman says, taking a half-step forward, her smile ready and pleasing, her gaze unwavering. Teyla relaxes a fraction--she often delivers that same careful smile when dealing with new contacts.
"I am Teyla Emmagan," she introduces herself. Then adds, for good measure, "Daughter of Tagan." The title does not appear to mean anything to the woman, however, though she bobs her head in a friendly way.
"I'm Lieutenant Colonel Samantha Carter." The woman gestures to each of the men in turn. "Major Sheppard, Lieutenant Ford." The woman, Samantha Carter, makes a show of keeping her hands away from her weapon. "We're peaceful explorers, new to your stars. We hope to trade with you, for power--" There's a flicker of doubt as she takes in the tent and its occupants, Teyla notes. "--or possibly temporary shelter."
As opening gambits go it is hurried and lacking in guile, but a request for shelter immediately puts Teyla on her guard--if these people have recently been culled, they might be desperate enough to pillage other worlds to survive. Wary of such tactics, she makes her warning plain: "We do not trade with strangers."
Hesitating, Samantha Carter throws a wordless plea to the rest of her team, and--there. Teyla catches a flash of disappointment in the woman's blue eyes, gone a moment later. Who had she been expecting to find at her side? Perhaps she once had someone to lay the groundwork while she closed the deal, someone to play the persuader to her aggressor.
The man called Sheppard finally steps forward with a playful, almost flirtatious grin. "We'll just have to get to know each other, then, so we won't be strangers any more," he says easily, meeting Teyla's eyes with confidence. "Me, I like ferris wheels, college football, anything that goes more than two hundred miles per hour..."
The younger man, Ford, leans close to whisper, "Sir, that's not going to mean anything to them."
That is true enough: Sheppard's words are complete gibberish, and Samantha Carter's slight wince makes it clear that Sheppard is fumbling this meeting. The man might be handsome, with some natural charm, but his transparent attempt to win friends with nonsensical babbling is more amusing than anything else. Nonetheless, Teyla is drawn in. She can sense his nerves under that brazen exterior, and the contrarian in her respects his audacity.
Very well, then.
"Each morning, before dawn, our people drink a stout tea to brace us for the coming day." Teyla gestures at her breakfast table, gratified when Leza and Yinto automatically make room for the strangers. "Will you join us?" she asks. There; the door is open.
"Thank you," replies Samantha Carter, smiling again, relieved. "We would be pleased to join you." She takes the seat across to Teyla, with Sheppard to her right.
Leaning in, Sheppard murmurs, "I love a good cup of tea," half teasing, half honest confession. Turning to meet his gaze, she finds hazel eyes that laugh back at her, self-deprecating yet unembarrassed.
* * *
Their talk moves quickly, which Teyla anticipated. Negotiation is a dance, sometimes organic in its dynamics, bending to the personalities of those involved, and sometimes carefully orchestrated from before the first step is even taken. This meeting pushes Teyla's considerable skills: she and Colonel Carter are strangers to one another, forced to feel out what long-time trading partners would know by rote. They teeter unexpectedly as misunderstandings arise. But Colonel Carter has deliberately surrendered the lead by showing her people's urgent need, and Teyla, in full knowledge of the power she wields, is gracious in guiding the proceedings.
She learns that Colonel Carter is indeed a soldier, the military leader charged with the protection of a team of explorers. They set off unprepared from a distant world, and came through the Ring of the Ancestors to find themselves stranded, in danger of a terrible flood, with no higher ground to be had.
"And you seek sanctuary here on Athos?" Teyla asks, pouring more tea for her guests. "How many do you number?" If their group is too large, she will have to turn them away: taking in one or two refugees willing to assimilate is a different matter than welcoming an entire people into their midst, especially with winter on its way.
But Colonel Carter shakes her head. "We're still hoping we won't have to abandon our camp. You see, we've settled down in a place that was once inhabited by the Ancients," she says carefully, watching for Teyla's reaction. "They were a race of beings who lived thousands and thousands of years ago, the ones who built the stargate. The, uh, astria porta?"
The first term is not one Teyla recognises, but the second sounds like the Ancestor language. "We know these beings as the Ancestors, and the device through which you travelled as the Ring of the Ancestors." It begins to make sense to Teyla why these explorers might leave their homeworld so unprepared for the dangers they might face--they would hardly be the first group to take foolish risks in hopes of learning the secrets of the Ancestors. "You mentioned before that you were in search of power. What did you mean by this?"
Colonel Carter and Sheppard exchange worried looks. "There is a protective wall, built by the Ancestors, that could stop our camp from flooding," the Colonel replies. "But we don't have enough power--fuel--to make it work. We need a device that looks like this," and she pulls out a scrap of paper with an ink sketch of a crystalline structure. "It's mostly yellow and orange in colour, and lit from within. Its dimensions are about this long--" The Colonel holds her hands two heads apart. "--and this big in circumference." She holds her hands in a circle slightly smaller than a head around.
It is not familiar to Teyla at all, nor to the others around the table. "I have not seen anything like that, Colonel--but my people rarely trade in Ancestor technology."
"Ah," says the Colonel, not quite able to hide her disappointment. "Maybe, if you're willing, you could introduce--"
"Colonel," a crackling voice from nowhere interrupts her. "This is Sergeant Bates--come in?"
Colonel Carter reaches for a small black box sitting on her left shoulder. "This is Carter." The man on the other end of the communication device requests the Colonel to come see something out by the entrance of the camp, and with an apologetic nod she exits the tent into the morning sunshine.
By the time the Colonel returns, Kanaan has joined their table, his trousers still soaked from the knees down with lake water after bringing in the morning catch. Major Sheppard is trying to describe a flying machine called a 'helicopter' by moving his finger in wide circles above his head--looking so comical that Kanaan has to hide an amused smile--but he stops talking and stands at attention when Colonel Carter marches back into the tent. Teyla and the others also stand, respectful.
"Teyla, there looks like ruins of a city on the other side of the lake." The Colonel is nearly vibrating with excitement. "I think we might be able to find something there that will help us."
"The city of the Ancestors is not safe," Toran protests immediately. Taken back by his outburst, Colonel Carter tries to assure him that they will be careful, but Toran only stares at her, alarmed. "The Wraith will come!"
"Who are these Wraith?" the Colonel asks, looking genuinely confused.
Kanaan shares a look of surprise with Teyla, then says, caution tempering his tone, "We have never met anyone who did not know."
If this is a Wraith worshipper trick, it is the oddest Teyla has ever seen--but Colonel Carter and Sheppard and Ford continue to look bewildered. She frowns at them, impatient. "If the Wraith have never touched your world, you should go back there!" She already thought these so-called explorers woefully unprepared for the dangers of Ring travel, but what kind of fools did not know to fear the Wraith?
The Colonel shakes her head, worry and frustration drawing lines on her face. "I was being honest when I said we couldn't return to our world. Again, we don't have enough power to make the journey home."
Teyla quickly makes a decision. "If this is true, I must take you to the caves--to show you what the Wraith are."
Studying her for a moment, Colonel Carter nods. "But I'd still like to send the rest of my team to explore the city. If there's a chance we can find something to help our people, we have to try," she insists.
Toran's fear of the city is rooted in children's bedtime stories, passed down through generations. "Our people have long believed that the Wraith will come if we venture into the old city," Teyla replies. "But it is a belief we have not tested in some time."
Teyla has always been sceptical of the all-seeing eye of the Wraith.
"When you say 'city of the Ancestors'," asks Ford, head tipped to one side, "do you mean your ancestors? Or the Ancestors?"
"It is both," Kanaan tells him, "at least according to the chronicles. Many, many generations ago, before the last great culling, our forebears built a city within the ruins of an Ancestral city. As you can see, we have since abandoned it." He pauses a moment, considering. "Teyla, what if I were to go with them to the old city?"
"Brother, you cannot be serious!" Toran exclaims.
"There is no reason to think the Wraith would monitor a city they destroyed centuries ago," Kanaan argues. "We should be safe to explore, so long as we are careful."
Teyla holds up a hand to forestall Toran's next objection. "Kanaan's suggestion has merit," she says. "Colonel Carter, you may send some of your team with Kanaan to the old city, and I will bring you to the caves."
"Actually, I'm going to send Major Sheppard with you, if you don't mind," the Colonel decides. "I'm probably the best person to examine any technology we might find in the city, and you," she gives Sheppard a pointed look, "are going to get some quality first contact experience if I have to throw you into the deep end."
"Yes, ma'am!" Sheppard replies smartly, then turns to Teyla with a flirty smile.
Biting down a laugh, Teyla takes her leave of Colonel Carter and Lieutenant Ford. "Be careful," she tells Kanaan, squeezing his arm.
"You too," he smirks, glancing back at Sheppard. Teyla rolls her eyes.
"Come, Major," she calls, striding down the path toward the forest. "Try to keep up!"
* * *
How differently events might have unfolded had she changed but one small detail? Three months into the future, Teyla will look back on this moment and understand the full consequences of her decision. She will mourn for Athos, and for Toran; she will walk a knife's edge of hope each day; she will fight alongside the people of Earth and fear that even their strength will not be enough to defeat the Wraith.
* * *
Wraith. She feels their gnawing presence even before she is fully cognizant. Blinking her eyes open, she finds Halling and Toran leaning over her, terror in their eyes.
"Are you all right?" Toran asks, his voice shaking.
She has no good answer for him. Sitting up, she takes in her surroundings, the cold, smooth floor and the irregular walls. "Where are we?" The last thing she remembers is racing through the forest, desperate to get back to her people, the whine of Wraith darts filling the night sky. She must have been culled, though she does not see Sheppard amongst the others in their prison.
There is Halling, Toran, Ileen, Meying, Gromin, and herself. Of the strangers, there are three men, plus Colonel Carter, whose eyes are fixed on the corridor outside of their prison cell.
"They took our weapons," the woman says, glancing over her shoulder at Teyla. "Any idea what to expect?"
"No," says Teyla, her tone sharp, rising to her feet. She was wrong--she never should have let the strangers enter the old city. Her only comfort is that Kanaan is not here, and that surely he will lead the rest of their people to safety.
The Colonel walks up to Toran with a suspicious frown. "You're the one who said the Wraith would come if we went down into the ruins."
Halling pulls Toran away. "Perhaps you should have heeded his warning," he snaps. He might have said more, but the heavy tread of Wraith soldiers begin to ring in the corridor.
"Stand back," Teyla tells her people, herding them against the wall, seeing the Colonel do the same with her men.
The bars of their cell part without a touch, like magic, and a Wraith enters, its yellow fangs bared in a snarl, its white hair gleaming almost purple in the dim light. Behind him are two Wraith guards, their faces masked, weapons in hand.
Colonel Carter steps forward. "I'm Lieutenant Colonel Samantha Car--" But the Wraith shoves, its clawed hand not even touching her chest, and the Colonel flies through the air to smack painfully against the wall.
Its slitted eyes flick from the Colonel's men to Ileen to Halling to Teyla, lingering on her throat, before finally settling on Toran. Hissing, it gestures at him--one of the Wraith guards wraps its long fingers around Toran's throat to drag him away.
Horrified, Teyla protests, "Take me in his place!"
"No, take me!" Colonel Carter shouts, scrambling to her feet. "We're the ones you're after, right? I'm their leader!" But the Wraith have no ears for the begging and crying of their human herd. They turn and leave without a second glance, the gate weaving itself closed behind them. The Colonel stares after Toran with a sickened expression.
If she truly did not know the Wraith before, she knew now.
The strangers confer amongst themselves in whispered voices, the one named Sergeant Bates turning often to glare at her with hostility. Ignoring him, Teyla gathers her people together, speaking to each of them directly to lend them her strength, to reassure them that at least their families have been spared--but it is difficult to instill a sense of serenity when Toran's fate rankles at the back of everyone's minds. Her people have lost loved ones to the Wraith in the past--Ileen her sister, Gromin his father, Halling his wife--snatched away by the culling beam of a dart, or by Wraith soldiers who come through the Ring with stun weapons.
Teyla hears Colonel Carter use words like 'rescue' and 'escape', but she knows better than to listen to false hope. With the Wraith, there is only running and hiding, going to ground in caves and secret shelters, the same way an animal evades the hunter that pursues it. And when there is no more cover, when there is no place left to flee, and the prey is well and truly caught--then, there is only a painful, gruesome death.
Hours pass, it seems, and Teyla is actually beginning to get bored when the stomp of boots alert her to the return of the Wraith. Meying wakes from a light doze, startled and whimpering in fear; Ileen hushes her. They all rise to their feet, ready to run though there is nowhere to go.
Stalking over to Colonel Carter, the Wraith stares at her for a long moment, then stalks back out. Before the Wraith guards can move, the Colonel takes a step forward, pausing only long enough to tell her men: "Wait for Sheppard. That's an order." She walks out of the cell with her chin held high.
"Colonel!" Bates clutches the bars of the cell as though he could tear them apart with his bare hands. "If anything happens to her," he snarls at Teyla, but at this point there is nothing with which he can threaten her, and they both know it.
"Maybe it's them," Gromin mutters under his breath, too quiet for Bates and the others to hear, though they stare at Teyla and her people with similar suspicion. "They must have done something to bring the Wraith."
"If so, it was not intentional," says Teyla, her tone firm. There is no point in accusing the strangers of being Wraith worshippers when they have no proof--and especially when she is the one who gave them passage into the city of the Ancestors.
Halling shakes his head. "I cannot believe that they have never heard of the Wraith before today. It is impossible."
"Perhaps the Wraith will feed on them and spare us," says Gromin, bitter and defeated; he and Henni were to be married at the midwinter festival this year.
Ileen stares at him, appalled. "Gromin, how can you say that? Toran--" She bites her lip, close to tears. "Toran is--"
But Teyla cuts her off, one hand lifted. "Quiet." Moving to the gate, she peers up and down the corridor, straining to listen. There. Footsteps. Two, maybe three. Not Wraith.
"Major?" she says, shocked to her core. It is Sheppard and Ford, and a woman--small, pale skin, red hair--and they are here, armed with weapons, moving stealthily in the heart of a Wraith stronghold. Impossible.
"Shh," Sheppard hisses. "Are you okay?" He peers into the cell behind her.
"How did you find us?" Teyla whispers, still unable to believe it.
Halling asks a more important question: "Is my son alive?" His fear and hope ring loud despite his hushed words.
"Jinto's fine, they're all fine," says Sheppard quickly. "But where's Colonel Carter?"
"She was taken by the Wraith," says Bates, nodding up the corridor in the direction the Wraith had gone. "Maybe five minutes ago. Not sure where, exactly."
"Dammit, Sam," Sheppard mutters, then speaks through his communication device to his men, ordering them to be ready to create a diversion. "Ford, on my signal, blow a hole and get everyone out of here, okay? Cadman and I will get the Colonel." He holds up a device that looks like Ancestor technology, moving it this way and that, then nods to the red-haired woman.
"I should come with you guys," Ford whispers, even as he begins moulding some kind of clay onto the bars of the cell. "Bates can blow the door."
But Sheppard is already heading off, Cadman close behind. "If we're not back in twenty minutes," Sheppard says, "you blow the door and tell Mehra to fly you out of here!" The two of them turn a corner and are gone.
Exchanging grim looks, Ford and Bates work quickly and quietly, sticking clay to the places where the bars criss-cross. "Teyla, when I get the Major's signal, I need your people to get as far away from the door as you can," Ford tells her as he carefully presses little blinking lights into the clay. "It's going to explode, and I don't want anyone getting hurt."
"I understand," says Teyla, though she is not quite certain that she does. The clay does not look anything like black powder, which some worlds use to explode rocks for mining.
They wait, tense and still, silent except for the occasional rustle of clothing and Meying's unsteady breaths. Finally, two clicks come through on Ford's communication device, and he grabs for it. "This is Ford--go ahead, sir."
"We've got the Colonel," Sheppard's voice comes through, tinny and flat, but wonderfully welcome to Teyla's ears. "She's hurt, but not--" A sudden staccato of weapon fire cuts him off before the device goes silent.
Ford's eyes grow wide and he clutches at the device. "Major Sheppard, come in!"
It clicks again, Sheppard shouting, "Blow it, blow it!"
"Everyone back!" says Bates, pushing Teyla and the others to the far wall, putting his arms around Meying's head to protect her.
Ford is out of sight, but he yells, "Fire in the hole!" and suddenly there is a concussive sound, noise and heat and pressure, and the bars of the cell fly apart like matchsticks. Through smoke and ash, Teyla sees Ford waving at them through a gap in the prison gate. "Come on, this way!"
They run, Ford in the lead with Teyla right behind him, while Bates takes the rear. In the distance, Teyla hears more explosions going off--a diversion from Sheppard's men--then suddenly, a siren is piercing her ears, shrill and painful. "The Wraith will be upon us soon!" she gasps, racing around a corner, nearly stepping on Ford's heels.
"Sheppard, come in!" Ford tries a few times before the Major finally responds.
"We're on the move! Where are you?"
"Almost outside," Ford pants as they round another corner, then--a door, still unguarded by some miracle of the Ancestors, sliding open. "We're out, we're out!"
"Go, go!" says Sheppard. "We're right behind you!"
Two more of Sheppard's soldiers appear from their hiding spots in the trees and take up position just outside the door to the Wraith stronghold--to make sure Colonel Carter and Major Sheppard are the ones to follow, and not the Wraith. Ford grabs Meying's hand and races down the hillside, the rest of Teyla's people streaming behind them.
Slowing down, Teyla dares a glance back at the Wraith stronghold, amazed to see fire and smoke rising from a half dozen different places. "I cannot believe it," she whispers, then startles when Bates shoves at her shoulder.
"Come on, what are you waiting for!" he shouts, trying to hurry her. But at that moment, Sheppard and Cadman emerge from the stronghold with Colonel Carter, her arms slung around their necks--Bates runs to help them. When three Wraith guards burst out of the door, Cadman spins around and opens fire. The two soldiers holding the door also start shooting, while Sheppard and Bates drags Colonel Carter out of the way.
One of the Wraith guard collapses, but the other two keep lurching forward. "Don't let them grab you!" Cadman yells at the two soldiers. "Keep firing, and retreat to the jumper!" One soldier throws himself to the ground, narrowly dodging a stun blast.
"Here, let me take her," Teyla tells Sheppard, pulling the Colonel's left arm over her shoulders, freeing Sheppard to use his weapon. Between Teyla and Bates, and the Colonel's semiconscious state, they manage to stumble their way down the hill while the others keep firing to keep the Wraith at a distance. Overhead she hears the whine of darts.
In a wide clearing at the base of the hill, there is the most curious vehicle Teyla has ever seen. It is nearly twice her height, and five times that in length, and cylindrical, its metal a light brown colour with no sheen to it. One end has a lowered ramp, Ford standing guard as Teyla's people climb inside.
"We've got incoming," Ford shouts, and the instant Sheppard's last man clears the ramp, he slams a lever that raises it up. "Mehra, go, go!"
Teyla gasps when she realises the vehicle is lifting off the ground, the ramp closing slowly enough for her to see the tree-line wobbling. Yelling for everyone to sit down and shut up, Sheppard shoves past Halling and Ileen to reach the far end of the flying machine. The small, brown-skinned woman sitting at the front gives up her seat immediately, saying breathlessly, "Thank God--I have no clue what I'm doing."
A quiet moan in her ear reminds Teyla of her burden. She and Bates ease Colonel Carter to the floor, Bates swearing when he catches sight of the Colonel's chest. Her shirt has been torn in half, baring her torso save for the breast band she wears--but what Bates is staring at is the bloody hand-print of a wound just below her collar bone.
"A feeding mark," Teyla murmurs to herself, astonished yet again. When Bates gives her a sharp look, she explains, "It is how they feed--they press their feeding hands against your chest to drain away your life."
"'M fine," the Colonel groans, lifting her head to stare dazedly around her. "Where are we?"
"An Ancient ship of some kind," Bates says, then adds, "Sheppard's flying it." When his eyes stray back down to her chest, the Colonel frowns and starts fumbling with her jacket. "Ma'am." Bates covers her hands until she relaxes, then lines the bottom ends of the jacket together, pulling a tiny metal tab up the middle so that the two sides fuse together.
"Thanks," the Colonel says. "Now, get me up there." Grimacing in pain, the Colonel uses Bates' shoulder to lever herself to her feet; Bates steadies her, his mouth pressed in a thin line, but he makes no protest.
Teyla follows them to the front, then slams to a halt, one hand coming up to clutch at a convenient wall. The sky is black. No--in fact, they are not in the sky. This flying machine--this Ancestral machine--has taken them beyond the sky, taken them so far above the ground that the Wraith world is nothing but a blue curve filling half the window.
"We're cloaked, ma'am," Ford tells the Colonel, turning in his chair. She has seated herself behind Sheppard, with Bates at her side like a watchdog. "We're heading for a gate that's in orbit." But a few moments later, Ford sees something that makes him swear.
Leaning over his shoulder, Teyla clenches her fists at the sight of several Wraith darts surrounding a Ring of the Ancestors that hangs in the darkness above the planet. "What can we do?"
"We're safe as long as they can't see us," Ford tells her--but he sounds uncertain.
"They don't have to," says Sheppard, mostly calm, only the faintest thread of tension in his voice. "There's only one way for us to go. The minute we activate the stargate, they can start shooting blind and blow us away on our approach."
"Can you draw them away from the gate?" asks the Colonel. "Then double back?"
Taking a deep breath, Sheppard nods. "Decloaking... now."
The field of stars outside the window swing wildly away, a blur of lines--but Teyla feels nothing, no sense of acceleration or torque, no change in the slight vibration of the flying machine. But images suddenly appear like magic before Sheppard's face, showing one dot being pursued by other dots, and she has to believe that they really are flying very, very fast.
"Get ready to dial the gate on my mark," Sheppard tells Ford, whose hands immediately hover over the controls between their seats. "Dammit," mutters Sheppard, and again the stars swing back and forth. Fire blooms once, twice, just at the edges of the flying machine's window. A third fire explodes directly in front of them, too close to avoid, and the machine shudders from the near miss. "Ford, you see a weapons console over there?" But two seconds after Sheppard speaks, a bright yellow light streaks ahead on their left before curving away. One of the dots chasing their dot suddenly vanishes.
"Holy Hannah!" the Colonel exclaims, startled. "Drone weapons, nice."
"The cloak's damaged," Sheppard reports. "I think. Dial the Gate, Lieutenant--we gotta get out of here." When the stars again spin madly, Teyla knows he is sending the flying machine back to the Ring. Ford punches in the symbols of an address Teyla does not recognise, and the waters of the Ring plume out, shockingly bright in the blackness of space between the stars. The two Wraith darts guarding it remain in position.
"What's the range on these things?" Ford mutters, holding up a black, rectangular device with many tiny buttons. Outside, more yellow lights race past them to blow up one of the darts.
"It's fine, Lieutenant," the Colonel tells him. When Ford frowns, doubting, she lifts an eyebrow. "Hey, I built the thing, remember?"
Ford grins. "Yes, ma'am."
Sheppard destroys the last dart guarding the Ring, then barks, "Enter your code! Hang on, people, two bandits on our tail!" He aims the flying machine straight at the Ring's glimmering pool of light. Teyla gasps, the Ring growing bigger and bigger as they speed towards it.
"We're going too fast!" shouts Ford, grabbing at the console--but there is nothing he can do.
Sheppard's eyes are narrowed, his jaw clenched in concentration, hands steady on the controls. If he can do this--if he can thread the Ring like the eye of a needle, Teyla will believe it. Her thoughts are too frantic to know what she will believe--that there is hope? That the impossible is now possible, and 'rescue' and 'escape' are no longer meaningless words? That flying machines might one day free her people from the shadow of the Wraith?
Suddenly the Ring is upon them, shockingly huge in the window, its light blinding, and Ford shoves his back into his chair, bracing himself for impact. But Teyla--seasoned traveller that she is--leans forward into the cold embrace of the waters.
Hoping.