STARGATE SG-1 STARGATE ATLANTIS: Points of Origin - Volume Two of the Travelers' Tales (SGX-03) (STARGATE EXTRA (SGX-03)) Read online

  “Be careful,” Zelenka called out as the colonel led the way toward the exit. “The metal composition is unusually high, less like an asteroid than a ship. Or a bomb.”

  “Gee, thanks for the cheerful thought,” Rodney shot back over his shoulder as he followed the rest of the team out. “That’s bound to make this little jaunt even more delightful than it would have been already.”

  “It’ll be more delightful if it saves your life, you imbecile!” Zelenka railed after him. “For you, anyway,” he added as the door slid shut, cutting him and Weir off from the departing team.

  If she heard his final statement, she tactfully chose to ignore it, instead returning to the control center and telling one of the officers there, “Prep Puddle Jumper One for immediate launch.” The man nodded and began typing in commands, and Weir stepped back far enough to let him do his job, but still close enough to watch over his shoulder. There weren’t many aspects of Atlantis’ daily activities she let escape her personal supervision. A part of her wished, as always, that she could go with the team up to the asteroid belt, to see firsthand what they discovered — and to be there to oversee the mission, in case there were any problems. But of course she couldn’t. She had to trust Sheppard and the others to handle whatever they found, as they always had before.

  Which didn’t make it any easier to stand there, watching, as their ship headed through the gate, leaving her behind and heading off into the unknown once more.

  “Oh, that can’t be good,” Rodney remarked, studying the console he was using to scan the large asteroid even as the Jumper slowed to a stop only a few kilometers away. “Zelenka was right for a change — I suppose there’s a first time for everything. This little beauty in front of us is almost entirely iron and carbon, and judging by the ratio and dispersement I’d guess they’ve been fused together into that handy little alloy we like to call steel.”

  “It’s a steel asteroid?” Sheppard considered the unassuming brownish-gray rock floating before them. “Doesn’t look like it.”

  “Well, it’s got an outer layer of silica,” the stocky scientist admitted, “but it’s only a few centimeters thick at most.”

  “How did it get the rock around it, then?” Teyla asked, peering past the two of them from her seat just behind. “Could it have picked that up while bouncing around in space, like gathering dust? Or is this deliberate camouflage?”

  “Deliberate,” Ronon rumbled, surprising the rest of them as it often did when he deigned to speak. He shrugged at their curious glances. “It’s too even to be coincidental,” he pointed out.

  “He has a good point,” Rodney agreed. “This rock layer covers whatever’s inside completely. If it was natural, there’d be a few gaps and cracks.” He shuddered. “What if Zelenka’s right and it is a bomb?” he asked. “I suggest we retreat to a safe distance and blow it up, just to be safe.”

  “And what if it turns out to be something important?” Sheppard replied, shaking his head. “No, we’re not doing that, Rodney. You’re going to find us a spot where we can drill through that rock and see what’s beneath it.”

  Teyla had been examining the scans displayed on Rodney’s console, and now she stabbed a finger at one corner. “What’s that there?” she asked. “The composition in that spot is just a little different — it’s got traces of oxygen in it.”

  Rodney frowned and tapped in a few quick commands. “That doesn’t make any sense,” he muttered to himself, unaware that he was doing exactly what he’d ridiculed Sheppard for so recently. “Oxygen and iron on the same asteroid? Unless . . .” He adjusted the scan, narrowing its parameters to a tighter beam right on the spot Teyla had indicated. “Aha!” he declared after a minute’s work. “Yes! The oxygen isn’t part of the structure — it’s inside it. That thing is hollow.”

  “Hollow?” Sheppard scratched at his chin. “Well, all right, then. Now I really want to know what’s inside. Rodney, find us a door.”

  “I think Teyla already did,” the scientist replied, actually giving someone else due credit for once. “The reason the oxygen is visible there is because that section is thinner than the rest. If I had to guess, I’d say it was a concealed airlock.”

  “Great.” Sheppard took hold of the Jumper’s controls. “Then let’s go knock and see if anybody’s home.” And with a steady hand he guided the small scout ship closer, angling it upward until its nose was perfectly aligned with the area Rodney had highlighted on their overhead display. “Any ideas on where to find a doorbell?” Sheppard asked once they were floating right in front of the spot, which didn’t look any different to the naked eye.

  “Try sending a docking request,” Teyla suggested. “If it really is an airlock, it should have mechanisms in place to register that.”

  Sheppard tapped in the command, and a second later the ship sent out a small, coded pulse. Any Ancient technology — or adapted SGC equipment — would recognize the pattern and acknowledge it. But what the fake asteroid would do, they had no idea. Would it recognize them as approved visitors? Or treat them as potential threats?

  Which was why all four of them, even the ever-stoic Ronon, breathed a sigh of relief when they heard a faint ping through the ship’s speakers, and watched as a thin band of light formed in a square right in front of them. “It worked!” Rodney declared. “The airlock’s opening!”

  “Really? We couldn’t tell,” Sheppard drawled even as he adjusted the Puddle Jumper, swiveling it around and guiding it backward so the cargo bay door at the rear would come into contact with the now-revealed airlock. There was a faint shudder as the two objects bumped up against each other, and then a hiss and a click as the airlock latched onto the ship, sealing the connection to prevent any atmosphere from escaping on either side.

  “We’re docked,” Teyla announced, checking the readings. “Good solid lock. Scans show breathable atmosphere on the other side.”

  “What’re we waiting for, then?” Sheppard asked, unstrapping and hauling himself out of his chair. He slapped Rodney on the back, and nodded to Teyla and Ronon as they all crowded toward the hatch leading into the aft section, which would then end at the small ship’s main hatch. “Let’s say hello!”

  “Yeah, great, hi,” Rodney said under his breath as he brought up the rear. “Hope you’re not rigged to blow or anything.” But he followed the rest of the team toward the airlock — just a few paces behind. To be safe.

  It was always a little disquieting to step through an airlock and find yourself having to reorient based on the new space, discovering that what was up in your ship was now down or sideways. That was the case here — they walked into the airlock from the Puddle Jumper, but once the outer door had closed behind them and the inner one hissed open the team found themselves looking down into the asteroid, as if they had entered and laid on their bellies. There was only minimal gravity within the hollow shell, but it was just enough to help them get used to the idea that the ladders bolted along the walls past the airlock led down, and once they’d swung out and grabbed hold, setting their feet on lower rungs, that direction took hold of their minds and bodies and they were able to proceed normally. With only minimal griping from Rodney.

  His ever-present complaining tapered off, however, as he finally cleared the airlock completely and got his first good look around inside the fake asteroid. The interior matched the exterior in terms of its pear shape, though in here the edges were clean and crisp, a faceted circular base tapering up toward the airlock at the top like the whole was molded from an enormous gem. The walls were pale metal, and below them where the tapering ended was a balcony that ran all the way around, pierced on two opposite sides by the ladders that continued on down to the bottom. Small screens were set around both of those levels, and a few large openings near the base seemed to lead off into side alcoves or possibly even whole other rooms.

  “Hey!”
Rodney shouted, his voice particularly loud in the enclosed space — they had all left their helmets off once they’d confirmed Teyla’s initial reading on the atmosphere, which was a little stuffy and stale but definitely breathable. “I know this place!”

  Sheppard had taken the lead, as usual, and was just stepping off the ladder and onto the narrow balcony. Now he glanced back up at Rodney, reflexively moving aside at the same time so Teyla could join him. “What’re you talking about?” he demanded. “You were just as surprised this thing was hollow as the rest of us.”

  “Yes yes,” Rodney admitted, hurrying the rest of the way down after Ronon and finally reaching the other three on the balcony. They spaced out along it a bit, there being ample room around it — the entire bottom level was perhaps ten meters across, and the whole chamber close to forty meters tall. “I didn’t know what it was at the time. But now that we’re inside” — he gestured around them — “this I recognize.” His face lost its customary smirk, looking sadder and more serious than the others had seen him save for a few times. “This is an exact match,” he continued slowly, “for the Ancient satellite we found at the Lagrange point back when the Wraith first located Atlantis.”

  That made all of them pause respectfully, even Ronon, who had only heard about the event after he’d joined the Atlantis Expedition. The Wraith had finally succeeded in their long quest to pinpoint Atlantis’s location and had sent several Hive ships to take the city by force. Before they’d arrived, however, the Atlantis scientists had discovered that the Ancients, when they’d first settled their city here, had established a network of defense satellites around the planet — and one of them had survived. Rodney had taken two other crewmembers, scientist Peter Grodin and pilot Miller, up to investigate the satellite. They’d been able to get it up and running again, at least long enough to power up its weaponry and eliminate one of the three Hive ships. But then their repairs had failed and the weapon had lost power. The Wraith had retaliated, and destroyed the satellite completely. Peter Grodin had still been onboard, trying to get the weapons operational again. The only reason Rodney and Miller had survived was because Grodin had sent them away before the attack, pointing out that someone had to stay and man the weapon but that the other two should hide at a safe distance, just in case. He’d saved their lives. And, by taking out one of the Hive ships, possibly the lives of everyone else on Atlantis as well.

  “Okay,” Sheppard said slowly after a minute, not needling Rodney for a change. “So this is a good thing, right? This is Ancient tech, and it’s a defense system for Atlantis — and one you already know how to repair. I’d say that’s a darn sight better than a bomb, wouldn’t you?”

  Rodney nodded. “Yes,” he agreed somberly. “I should be able to run diagnostics, fix any problems, and get the systems up to full power and readiness without too much trouble.” He glanced around. “Peter and I figured out where everything was,” he added softly.

  “What do you want us to do?” Teyla asked him gently. “Can we help?”

  “No, just stay out of the way,” Rodney replied. The others all rolled their eyes, but couldn’t help relaxing a little bit as well. The old Rodney was back, which meant he was shaking off the doldrums he’d gotten from those memories. That was a good thing, even if they had made him a little more human — and thus more bearable — for a minute.

  Rodney stepped back onto the ladder and quickly descended to the bottom level, then headed straight for a row of small screens mounted on one of the walls at head height. While he tapped in commands, calling up various images and displays, the other three scouted the rest of the asteroid. There wasn’t much else to see. The openings did in fact lead to additional sections, but they narrowed rapidly, to the point where it was impossible to proceed without crawling. “Looks like service tunnels,” Sheppard said once he’d explored one a little ways. “I’m guessing it ends in a hatch that lets you outside onto one of the arms — I remember the satellite was a spiky-looking thing, like a metal porcupine or cactus, and this probably has some of that same architecture, just buried under layers of rock.”

  “It’s funny that the Ancestors would mask this satellite but not the others,” Teyla commented, running a hand idly along one smooth, cold, metallic wall. “Why do that? Was this one special in some way?”

  “I thought you only found the one, before,” Ronon rumbled — he’d stopped at the entrance to this offshoot, where it was still tall enough for him to stand without having to stoop. Now he shrugged. “Maybe more of them were like this, too.”

  “The big guy’s got a point,” Sheppard agreed, tapping a panel and listening to the faint ringing that produced. “If I was the Ancients, I’d put some satellites out in the open and then hide others. That way, even if somebody found and disabled the first set, they might not think to look for a second grouping.” He studied their surroundings. “But the Wraith or the Asurans or somebody must’ve clued in and destroyed them all, hidden or open. They only missed that one — and now this one, too.” He grinned at his teammates. “But, hey, their mistake is our gain.”

  Which was certainly true. The last satellite had destroyed a Hive ship with a single strike. If this one had comparable power, it would make a formidable weapon to defend Atlantis from any new attacks.

  Provided Rodney could get it up and working properly.

  “How’s it going, Rodney?” Sheppard called out as he stalked back into the main chamber with Teyla and Ronon right behind him. “We good to go yet?”

  “This isn’t a coffeemaker,” Rodney snapped, not even looking up from the console he was working on. “It’s Ancient technology, and even though I am an expert on such, it still requires a little finesse. Unless you’d like me to activate its self-destruct by mistake, and seal us in here at the same time.”

  Sheppard held up his hands in mock-surrender. “No, you do what you’ve gotta do,” he replied, backing up a step. “We’ll wait.”

  “Fine. Thank you, though you shouldn’t have to wait too long, because I think I’ve just about — uh-oh.” Rodney did look up finally, but only to study the small screen directly in front of him — and what he saw made him go pale.

  “ ‘Uh-oh’ doesn’t sound too promising,” Sheppard pointed out after a few seconds, when McKay hadn’t elaborated.

  “No, I suppose it doesn’t.” Rodney gulped, then turned to face the others. “So, good news and bad news,” he started, frowning. “The good news is, this satellite is almost a perfect match for the other one in terms of capabilities. And, unlike the other one, it’s fully operational. The buffer is already starting to build a charge.”

  “What’s the bad news?” Ronon asked, glaring about them like he was expecting to be attacked at any second. Since that same wariness had kept him alive for all those years on the run, no one faulted him for his caution.

  “The bad news. Yes. That.” Rodney gestured at the screen. “The bad news is, apparently we weren’t the first ones to find this place. The system shows that someone else accessed it a while back, like years ago, and modified things a bit.”

  Sheppard stared at the screen as if it was going to start answering questions directly. “And that someone was . . . ?”

  “At a guess?” Rodney sighed. “The Wraith.”

  “The Wraith were here?” Teyla scanned the satellite’s tiny interior, which was pristine. “Why didn’t they destroy it, then? Surely they knew it could be used against them?”

  “I’m hardly an expert on Wraith psychology,” Rodney answered, marking one of the few times he’d ever admitted to not being an expert about, well, anything. “But at a guess, I’d say either they were feeling clever and decided to leave it as a Trojan horse — or they couldn’t figure out how to destroy it, so they sabotaged it instead.”

  “What’d they do?” Sheppard demanded.

  “They corrupted its targeting system,�
�� Rodney explained. “It’s already got a target locked in, and I can’t break in and change that.” After another second he added what his companions had really hoped he wouldn’t: “It’s Atlantis.”

  “So the Wraith found this place, broke in, mucked around in here, and set it up so whenever it next turned on, it’d start firing on Atlantis itself?” Sheppard asked, shaking his head.

  “Pretty much,” Rodney confirmed. He studied the small screen. “We have perhaps four hours before that happens.”

  “How much damage are we talking about?” Teyla wanted to know.

  Rodney did a quick calculation in his head. “Probably enough to destroy at least a quarter of the city with a single shot,” he answered when he was done. “And there’s no reason this system won’t have enough power to get off five or six shots in a row before the buffer needs to recharge.”

  The four of them stared at each other. This weapon could destroy Atlantis in a single flurry.

  “How do we stop it?” Sheppard asked. “There’s got to be a way, right?”

  “Maybe,” Rodney admitted, staring at and through the display as he thought. “Maybe.” He glanced up at Sheppard. “But it might be easiest just to destroy it. If we blow it up before it gets a chance to fire, problem solved.”

  Sheppard shook his head. “We just found the darn thing,” he pointed out. “And it could save our butts the next time anyone attacks us directly. I don’t think we want to toss that away if we don’t have to.” He clapped Rodney on the shoulder. “So figure out a way that we don’t have to.”

  “Oh, great,” Rodney muttered, returning his attention to the console and typing in new commands and requests. “No pressure.”