Day Eleven - Twelve

The discussion of exactly how to go about meeting the local inhabitants is long and vociferous. They hash out whether they should just wait and let them come to the Daedalus, as they are watching the ship every dawn and dusk, or if they should go and visit a settlement. When the final consensus is not to wait, Elizabeth insists on going, even though first contact was always out of her purview in Atlantis.

There is also the argument about which village to visit first, or whether they should do them simultaneously in order to prevent any perception of preference. If they send concurrent envoys, Elizabeth can't be in two places at the same time and she's definite about going, if not to both then at least to one.

John can tell, when he meets Caldwell's eyes, that he wants to acquiesce to Elizabeth's demand, because there really isn't anything else for her to do on the Daedalus. By that standard, John is all for her going and he knows that Elizabeth's got the chops for negotiating; she'd pulled off arguing crazed Genii out of unfinished nukes after all, but the last year has shown him that while first contact can go either way, it's usually downhill pretty fast. Plus it's going to be a long, hard walk across open desert, because the argument about using the 302s to take a short hop across the desert, and the concomitant waste of precious resources has already been settled. There is a finite amount of fuel on board, and there might be Hive ships on the way.

John's ire at Caldwell has cooled in the last few days, and he's making an effort at maintaining a cordial working relationship–the Daedalus is only so big, and they don't have any way to truly escape one another. He nods almost imperceptibly, but Caldwell gets both of the messages implicit in that gesture, and they each back off from their arguments and let Elizabeth make the decision.

The hastily drawn coordinates map for the planet places the west village slightly closer, so that's where they're headed. The plan is to travel as far as they can by night; it's about two hours until dusk. Elizabeth is wearing a light pack with food, water and a basic emergency kit, but Major Lorne, Lieutenant Cadman and Sergeant Rogers are all carrying the heavier packs with the rest of the gear. John is shrugging a heavy pack onto his back when Caldwell arrives at the hangar bay. He's wearing a sour expression on his face, or at least more sour than usual.

"Communications says the hand-held radios should work as far as the village, barring any unforeseen circumstances, so keep in touch."

"Thank you, Colonel. I'm sure we'll be fine," Elizabeth says firmly.

Caldwell glances at John, who replies with a quick lift of his brow.

"And just as a precaution, I have the 302s on standby for an extraction if the situation becomes dire."

John mentally rolls his eyes, but acknowledges Caldwell. "Sounds like a..." Rodney interrupts him, when he squeezes through the hanger bay door.

"Major, I have something for you."

Lorne turns around and looks at Rodney. "Me?"

Rodney has the grace to blush slightly. "Sorry. Sheppard, take this."

"A life signs detector? Where did you get that?" John takes it and automatically checks the display, then tucks it into his vest pocket.

"I took it with me to the SGC. I wanted to... well never mind what I wanted. I thought it might be prudent for you to have with you. We never go on missions without one."

"You wanna change your mind and go with?"

"Even if Dr. Cole would approve it, I'm not really all that fond of trudging through sand."

"Maybe next time, then?" John gives Rodney an evil smirk.

"Right." Rodney looks like he wants to say be careful, good luck, but he turns to Elizabeth instead. "Don't get yourself killed; we need you."

"Thank you, Rodney. I'll try and not get killed." To her credit Elizabeth says it with a straight face, without a trace of amusement. "Take it easy while we're gone."

John sees through Rodney's sarcasm; he looks miserable, as if he really does want to go. "We'll be fine. Hike over there, say hi to the nice villagers and hike back."

Rodney huffs, "Like that's ever worked before," and turns to leave.

John shakes his head. "Okay folks, we need to get this show on the road."

Lorne, Cadman and Rogers head out toward the edge of the hanger bay. Caldwell touches John on the arm to halt him. "Be careful."

"Yes sir, will do." John follows his temporary team out, but Elizabeth is talking with Caldwell in a low voice. He waits for her at the lip; she'll need help getting down even with the light pack she's wearing.

She joins him just a couple of moments later; whatever Caldwell had to say, it wasn't very much. "Shall we?"

"Let's go." Despite the backpack, Elizabeth easily climbs down and out to where the Major is waiting for her. John makes sure she's on the ground before making his way down.

John looks back up at the hangar. "I'm thinking we need a ladder if we're going to do this too many more times."

"Good idea, Colonel. You're in charge of that," Elizabeth orders smartly.

He grins and slides his sunglasses on before looking to the west to get his bearings. "Major, you take point, Cadman and Rogers, you've got the six."

Elizabeth pulls a boonie out of a pocket, jams it on her head and they begin their trek.

John had forgotten how miserable the desert is as a hiking venue. It's searingly hot and the sun is in their eyes. Elizabeth keeps her head down to block her eyes from the light and doesn't talk much. The others are a little too far away for comfortable conversation. He almost misses the constant pissing and moaning that Rodney would subject him to, because usually there was also an interesting conversation sprinkled between the invectives and hyperbole.

He can hear Cadman and Rogers chatting in low enough voices that he can't make out what they're saying. Lorne has his head up, and he's scanning the horizon, but there's nothing but sand and sun in every direction.

After two hours of making sure Elizabeth is hydrated and switching positions to keep it interesting, it's almost dark. They're in a valley, but on the last dune crest, John sees a small group of people at the top of the next hill.

John calls out a halt to his team. "Major, did you see them?"

"Yes sir, sure did." Lorne takes off his hat and wipes the sweat off of his face with it, leaving streaks in the dust. When he takes off his sunglasses to wipe his eyes, he looks like a demented raccoon.

Elizabeth sinks down into the sand, sighing as she goes. "I'll never ever denigrate Rodney's complaints again."

John smiles slightly, but he doesn't say he misses them. "Take a load off. We'll rest here for a few." He taps the ear piece, "Daedalus, this is Sheppard, come in."

The Daedalus' radio tech responds crisply. "Sheppard, this is Daedalus, we read you five by five."

John wonders briefly who else they think would be responding to his call. "We may be about to make first contact, there's a group of locals on the next dune."

The next voice is Colonel Caldwell's. "Understood. How do you want to proceed?"

He glances over to Major Lorne, who gives him a shrug and a careless look as he bites into a power bar. John responds, "We'll proceed as planned, sir. If we meet them now or at the village, it won't make any difference."

"Very well. We'll continue monitoring communications, Caldwell out."

Cadman and Rogers are splitting an MRE and Elizabeth has her canteen in hand. "I don't think I've ever been as happy to see a sunset," she says, almost to herself.

John crouches down next to her. "Are you okay, Elizabeth? Seriously. Because if you're not, we should turn around and go back—I think we're only about a quarter of the way there."

"I think so. It's the sun. It'll be dark soon."

John studies her, since she sounds a little loopy. "Don't let pride get in the way. If you need to stop, just say so. If you need to pee, take Cadman, I don't want you wandering around alone, especially now."

Elizabeth gives John an appraising stare, and he just stares right back at her. She never sees this part of him, because it was so rarely necessary on Atlantis. He's there to make sure she gets taken care of, and making sure that an angry native does not pick her off while she's taking a whiz is part of that job. "Thanks, John, I'll do that."

"Eat something while we rest and drink lots of water." John almost reaches out to pat her on the back, but instead stands abruptly and walks over to Cadman and Rogers.

"Cadman, if Elizabeth makes a pit stop, go with her. I don't want her wandering alone with our new friends up on that ridge."

"Yes sir."

He briefly considers telling Cadman to knock it off with the 'sirs', but it would be like telling her not to breathe. John looks over the group, again wishing that Rodney were with them if only for someone to talk to. He sits down at a point that's equidistant from all of them and pulls out a power bar. Rogers and Lorne pointedly keep their backs to Cadman and Elizabeth as they trudge off in a vain attempt to find a private place in the wide open stretch of desert.

Despite what he'd told Caldwell, John knows there is a choice to be made. Continue on, and meet possible unfriendlies in the dark, or camp out over night, and deal with them in the morning, which would leave them traveling over open desert in the daytime. They didn't have enough water to extend this sojourn beyond a day or so, and John thinks it unlikely that the people waiting for them over the hill will wait all night.

The thin, pale pink slice of the first moon gives the desert a peculiar glow, which brightens as the aurora begins to overtake the moon and dim starlight. When Elizabeth and Cadman return, John isn't in any hurry to start back up, but everyone quietly packs up their trash in preparation to move on. The temperature is dropping rapidly and jackets are coming out of the packs.

The moonlight and sheets of coruscating aurora means they don't have to wear night vision goggles merely to navigate, though everyone but Elizabeth already has them slung around their necks. John moves to the front and takes over point; Lorne falls back to walk next to Elizabeth and John can hear them chatting briefly about the mesmerizing night sky.

There isn't a sign of anyone when they top the ridge. John scans the path ahead through the goggles; nocturnal wildlife abounds, slithering, hopping and running out of their path as John's boots scuffle the sand. It's a good sign; it means there's water somewhere if they have to go so far as to dig a well. John thinks about other deserts he's known and wonders what this one would look like when there's a rainfall.

And so the night goes. Radio checks to make sure they're on the right track, frequent but brief rest stops in deference to Elizabeth, who's never had to run for miles with a hundred pounds strapped to her back. John's many years out of the Academy, but he's had a lot of experience in the last year with that sort of thing. Adrenaline helps, he thinks acidly.

They reach the outskirts of the village well before dawn. There's a high, white, stone wall around the settlement, and the gate is firmly closed, so they fall back and settle in to wait for the dawn. Despite having walked all night, no one wants to sleep, so they wait together in the dark.

 

Day Thirteen

The gates open just as the sky is lightening to the east, and a voice raised in song carries out over the walls. John immediately thinks muezzin; the high-pitched prayer sends a shiver down his back and raises the hair on the back of his neck from too many days spent in Kandahar. He glances over at Elizabeth, who is slack-jawed in rapt attention.

When the prayer is ended, she says in an awed voice, "It's in Ancient."

That doesn't really set John's mind at ease. "Well, let's go meet the natives—though I doubt they're really native if they pray in Ancient."

Just inside the gate is a market, already full with the bustle of folks trying to get their business done before the heat of the day.

The town is almost pretty. White stone buildings with colorful canopies over the doorways, and the streets are well paved and clean. The problem is with the people.

The villagers stop and stare at them with what can only be suspicion as they try to make contact, but no one speaks to or approaches them as they pass by. John's team wears their game face, smiling pleasantly, saying 'hi there', and nodding as they walk through the market.

It's a little more crowded than most of the places he's visited in Pegasus, but definitely in the medium range between hostile and indifferent. "Usually someone wants to come and introduce themselves as the leader. I guess they don't get very much outside trade."

"Or perhaps they just don't see strangers very often," Elizabeth muses.

"Still, you'd think they would be more curious. We're probably stranger than most." John shakes his head and waves at a child across the plaza; he's slightly relieved to get a wave in return, before the child is yanked indoors.

"I don't recognize any of the language." Elizabeth isn't asking a question, but Major Lorne answers anyway.

"No Stargate."

She shakes her head. "It's too hot, I'm not thinking clearly."

They stop when the market place trails into the town center. There's a small fountain in the center where men and women are filling up large double-handled glass pitchers, or lounging on it while a few children are playing nearby.

The people here give them the same vaguely hostile looks and ignore John's greetings when he briefly catches someone's eyes and introduces himself.

Elizabeth remarks, "The architecture looks familiar--see the shape of the paving stones? They look like some of the decorative features on Atlantis."

"Okay, so they do their morning prayers in Ancient, and they've got the decorating gene. We're still not making contact here. What do you want to do?" John is nominally in charge, but he knows that it's Elizabeth's show.

"We really can't start back until nightfall. Let's wander around some more," she answers in a distracted manner, drinking in the sights and sounds of the town.

John easily agrees. "Sure, but if we can't find anyone to talk to pretty soon, we'll need to find a place to rest, before we start back tonight."

"Agreed."

No one is chasing them off, so they wander around the town for a while longer, but they never get a positive reaction from any of the inhabitants.

They've come full circle. The road they're walking on leads them right back to the market place, and John takes that as a sign that they are done. The sun is high in the sky now, the foot traffic in the market place has slowed to a trickle, and the hustle of the early morning is tamped down under the blinding heat.

"We don't have any idea when they close the gates, and if it's all the same to you, I don't wanna be stuck here over night."

Elizabeth is visibly wilting with exhaustion from the trek, and the heat and discouragement. She only nods.

No one looks particularly peppy or fresh as a daisy. Major Lorne pipes up, "Let's go back to the fountain and fill up the canteens. Maybe swiping some of their water will get us noticed."

"Or killed," John says wryly. "Let's give it a shot." The fountain is deserted in the hot midday sun. They fill up their canteens, and just in case it isn't drinking water, toss in purification tablets, and in case it is drinking water, John forgoes dunking his head into it. They leave the walled town without comment, while Lorne checks in with the Daedalus.

There's still a tiny bit of shade under the western side of the wall, but they'll have to move to the east side after the sun passes the zenith. They rest in fits and starts, chasing the shade until dusk, when they begin the long walk back to their ship in defeat.

 

Day Fourteen

The engineering crew has managed to get a common shower area supplied with water, and after two weeks of sponging off, John is extremely grateful to finally get a real shower. There is a squeegee propped up in the corner of the shower, because the water now puddles in the corner. John dutifully swooshes the water towards the drain, thinking that this was going to be pain in the ass for the foreseeable future.

He manages to sleep for the entire day and at dusk, they meet in the war room to debrief. Caldwell is already there, and Elizabeth and Rodney trail in shortly after John.

Elizabeth starts talking even before she sits down, a measure of her frustration. "I don't get it. They've been watching us for days, yet when we show up, no one even acknowledged that we were there." She's sunburned, and her nose will start peeling soon.

John offers a suggestion, "Maybe we need to go hang out on the ridge and meet the folks that are interested in us. It's obvious they're the only ones."

Rodney stabs at his PDA. "I wish that some of the people we've run into in the past would've ignored us. Good job on not getting killed or inciting a riot, though."

"Thanks, Rodney." John shoots him a sideways glare that Rodney ignores completely.

"We’ve been keeping track of the sightings. Every dawn, someone is watching from the east, and, at dusk, there's someone on the west." Caldwell doesn't sound happy about being spied upon.

"We should go and meet them," Rodney says in a musing tone, like John hadn't just said it.

"We?"

"Well, eventually Dr. Cole will let me escape her clutches."

"You must be bored, or sicker than we thought." He's teasing Rodney, but secretly pleased that Rodney misses going on missions.

"John, I think you might be right, perhaps this is not spying, but an invitation to meet on neutral ground. I don't know why I didn't think of that before. If the pattern holds, there should be someone on the eastern ridge in the morning."

"Would've saved us a hell of a walk." John is only half teasing; there was a reason he'd joined the Air Force and not the Army.

Caldwell's eyes are merry, and John is pretty sure that he's thinking the same thing. John gives him a small smile in return. All disagreements and disappointments over the naming of the Atlantis' military commander aside, Caldwell's not a bad guy, and there are bridges to be built, not only with the locals.

Rodney starts grumbling, "You would think that with all the walking we do, the SGC would bother to give us some transportation. Hell, sometimes I wish we had even just a bicycle!"

John gives Rodney a sharp nod. "Logistics, Rodney—even a bicycle needs spare parts. Our feet don't need replacing, not often any anyway. Shoes are usually the easiest equipment to replace."

Caldwell adds, "In most military deployments, the troops can buy personal stuff locally, motorbikes, stereos and computers, the like. I guess in the ten years of the program they figured out that the only reliable transport is your feet."

"And you wouldn't want to scare off all the nice villagers, Rodney," Elizabeth teases.

"But I'm not wrong when I say that a jeep or an ATV would be very handy right about now."

John shakes his head; a puddlejumper would be pretty handy right about now. "Not gonna disagree with that."

Elizabeth steers the meeting back on course, "Colonel Caldwell, how are the repairs going? Did anything interesting happen while we were gone?"

Consulting his data pad, Caldwell says bitterly, "Even though we won't ever get this wreck airborne again, Dr. McKay and the crew are working on getting the sub-light engines back online. Life support is separate, though some other ancillary systems, like communications, are currently running off the batteries, which are charged from the sub-lights. They should be ready to test the engines some time today, and if it goes well, I'll set up a schedule to recharge the batteries, or if not, tie them into a generator. The water reclamation system is holding up, but eventually we're going to have to locate some fresh water."

"There was a fountain in the village, so we know there's water, but we'll probably have to dig a well."

"Have you ever dug a well, Colonel?" Rodney scoffs.

John shoots back with a mildly annoyed, "As a matter of fact, I have."

Elizabeth gives John a sly look. "Good, then you'll be in charge of that, too."

"Oh, you are so helping me with that, McKay." John is mildly outraged that he's unwittingly fallen into the accidental trap.

Caldwell continues as if he hadn't been interrupted. "Food isn't a problem, and won't be for quite some time, but again, it's a finite resource."

"With the lack of interest on the locals' part, that might end up being a big problem. We can't exactly start a garden out here, even if we have a well."

"If we're forced to relocate in the future, we'll take that into consideration. We should stay put for the foreseeable future." Elizabeth says it simply. They're not there yet, but it might happen.

"In case we get rescued?" Rodney inquires.

Caldwell answers, "In case the Wraith come. We might be down, but our best defense is still here with the ship."

"How are the weapons systems?" John asks.

Rodney sighs. "Like everything thing else, tied into the sub-light engines."

Elizabeth asks, "Colonel Caldwell, have we heard from Lieutenant Swenson?"

"No, and we didn't really expect to. Because of the radiation, and the planet's magnetic field, our communication range is dramatically reduced, and his first scheduled hop was outside of that. If we hear from him, it's bad news."

"The only way we'll ever know that he got through is when we get rescued." The note of complaint in Rodney's voice is clear.

"If we get rescued, Dr. McKay. That stunt has only a slim chance of working. It's likely that he exploded somewhere in deep space," Caldwell says calmly.

The soft huff of Rodney's sigh is the only sound at the table. They all know that it was a long shot.

Caldwell gives that idea a moment of silence, and then goes on with his briefing. "Inventory controls are in place, and I'd like to ask everyone to voluntarily provide a list of their personal effects, down to the last sock. We might have the one thing we desperately need sitting in someone's cabin."

"I think that's a wise strategy. I'd like to institute a weekly 'town' meeting as a way to help assuage the concerns and fears every one has, and I'm sure there are rumors already circulating about our failed first contact. All of us deserve to know what's happening."

"Dr. Weir, I don't want to burst your bubble, but this situation calls for more discipline, not less. Our safety demands that the chain of command stay in place."

"My objective is to enhance communications and reassure our people, Colonel. I'm not staging a coup, though at some point we're may have to reconsider the organizational structure."

"When that time comes, we'll both know it."

They stare intently at one another for a moment.

"Just because the civilian population is in the minority, you can't expect us to fall in line and be good little soldiers." Rodney crosses his arms and gives Caldwell a glare for good measure.

"That's not what I'm saying. I'm reluctant to go so far as setting up a democracy right away. We need to maintain a familiar structure—most of our population is military, and that leaves them with certain expectations. Town meetings are great, we need to every person to feel like they have a say..."

Elizabeth interrupts him, "You mean know they have a say, Colonel."

Caldwell tips his head slightly in acknowledgment. "But, we need to balance that with familiarity. The military contingent expects the civilians to be outside the chain of command, no one is going to conscript you, Dr. McKay. Balance and familiarity, those are going to keep the bulk of our people feeling safe, and the civilians need to know that there is a place for them, as well." The look on his face says, 'Did I make myself clear?'

"Of course, Colonel; maintain the status quo in the short term, but have an eye on the long term as well."

"As always, Doctor, you have me at a disadvantage." Caldwell smiles briefly, and Elizabeth returns it.

"I doubt that, Colonel. To that end, I think we should devise a work rotation for the civilians, so that everyone is occupied."

Caldwell nods. "You've done the homework on the people skills we have on board. Work with Sheppard and Randall on that."

John nods. "We still need to try and dig out the port hangar."

"Oh, great, I can just see all of the physicists happily digging ditches."

John shrugs. "It needs to be done and they need something to do. Or cross training, too, even if it's only how to properly sharpen a knife or mend torn clothing. Arrange PT for everyone."

"Perhaps circulate the list of the things people can do. Set some terms for bartering those skills," Rodney adds.

This is all old hat to the Atlantis crew; they've spent the last year in isolation, though admittedly with far more to work with and less time to do it in. Caldwell knows this, and he's willing to take their advice to a certain degree.

"I'm sure we all have things to think about. Perhaps we'd like to continue this tomorrow?" Elizabeth stands and reflexively so do John and Caldwell, and a little belatedly, Rodney.

As he walks out of the conference room, Caldwell is next to John. "Colonel, you'll see to meeting the locals in the morning?"

"Yes, sir."

"Very well." With that, Colonel Caldwell speeds up to catch Elizabeth as she heads towards the mess.

John slows down, and asks Rodney, "Are you hungry?"

"I ate beforehand. I didn't think I could take a meeting on an empty stomach."

"Yeah. I'll eat later." John never sees it coming when it's him, but it's very obvious that Caldwell is pursuing Elizabeth in his own fashion, and John's willing to give him the space for it. "You holding out on any DVDs?"

Rodney grins. "Come on, I'll show you."

 

Day Fifteen

John's circadian rhythms are solidly on the night-as-day schedule. After spending half the night watching movies with Rodney, he goes to the gym and gets in a workout and then finally makes it to the mess for a meal.

Lorne is there, eating alone, and John approaches the table with his tray. "Mind if I join you, Major?"

"No, sir. Please do."

"Thanks." John attacks the steak and fries, eating methodically until he's half way through, one hand on the tray to keep it from slipping off the table. "So, I'm going up to the eastern ridge in a while, see if we can't make contact with the locals."

"You want some company?"

"You've read my mind, Major."

"I've been thinking, Colonel."

"Hmm. Dangerous."

Lorne's got a slow smile that spreads across his face like the sun rising. "Sure. It seems to me that we really have two sets of locals. We've never seen anyone actually crossing our valley to get to the other town."

Nodding, John agrees. "They get to their respective look-outs and then, no farther."

"Yeah, so it seems to me that we can't necessarily equate our experience with one to the other."

"That sounds reasonable. What do you think about our little failure?"

"Completely different than anything I've ever seen. Back on Earth, usually when we'd roll into town, it was always a big deal. Even at the SGC, we'd get at least get some face time before the shit hit the fan, but I guess the Tau'ri reputation preceded us."

"Back at Atlantis, we’ve had people hide from us, not even Teyla could flush them out, though usually anyone who walks through the gate in Pegasus is vetted immediately for good or bad. I can't get over just being ignored."

"Stings the ego."

John points at Lorne with his fork. "Exactly. And it's weird."

"I guess in a few hours we'll find out if everyone is like that."

"Yeah. Need to put together a couple of Marines for back up, after breakfast." John knows that he really needs to get down to brass tacks with the two platoons that were to be assigned to Atlantis, but he'll do it person by person. "I want to be out there before sunrise. Damn, we need some better way of keeping track of time here." The bridge crew has a conversion program running, but running to the bridge to check it is an inconvenience at best.

Lorne grimaces. "Yeah. I'll check with Olander, see who's up."

"That's the Staff Sergeant?"

There's that slow smile again. "Colonel, all due respect sir, but you have got to get on the ball. Having an Air Force officer as their military commander was bad enough for them, but stopping in to say hi isn't what the Marines are looking for." John gives Lorne an appraising look, and he starts to backpedal, "No disrespect intended, sir."

"None taken, Major. I'd much rather you speak your mind than have me try and guess what you're thinking. You're my XO, and I'm relying on you to keep me out of trouble."

Lorne gins. "From what I hear, that may be an impossible task, sir."

John chuckles. "Probably. Things aren't going to change fast, but they are going to change. You don't have to 'sir' me all the time, especially when we're not in company."

Lorne nods. "All right then. Sheppard."

"Better. Let's go talk to some Marines."

 

Day Sixteen

The air is still chilly in the pre-dawn hour, and they're sliding into tactical vests and clipping on P90's when Rodney joins them in the hangar bay.

"You coming, McKay?" John asks. He keeps his voice light and faintly disinterested in deference to the two Marines and his XO that are nearby.

"I thought I might." He starts to pull on a vest and slides his precious life signs detector into a pocket, his PDA in another. "Someone has to be the voice of reason in this outfit."

"And that's you?" John asks a little disbelievingly. Rodney is anything but. Brilliant and sarcastic, yes, but reasonable would never be an adjective he'd assign to McKay.

Rodney leans towards Sheppard. "I have to get out of here, Sheppard—even just for a little while. Even if it means subjecting myself to enormous amounts of fatal radiation. I just..."

John interrupts him with a mild, "Okay by me." John turns to the face the team. "To recap for McKay's benefit, we're going to go hang out on the ridge for a little while and see if we can get these people to talk to us."

Elizabeth enters the hangar bay and everyone turns towards her as she says, "You were going to go without me?"

John sighs internally. "Of course not, Dr. Weir. The more the merrier. Grab a vest and let's go."

Elizabeth puts on a vest and heads towards the lip of the hangar bay, walking with Rodney. Despite their reception yesterday, John's sense of danger is nudging him. He raises a hand, makes a clenching fist, and the Marines stop immediately. He turns around. "Everyone look sharp and stick to those two like burrs."

Lorne, Alvarez and Timmons nod. John should have expected this and planned for more backup accordingly, but he's still on the wrong side of the leadership learning curve, even after a whole year of seat-of-his-pants command. "Okay, head out." As they climb out, John switches to a private channel. "Caldwell, this is Sheppard."

"Go Sheppard."

"We're just on our way out, and I've got Dr. Weir and McKay tagging along. Get Sergeant Olander to send me a couple more guys and have them stay back, but available."

"Will do, Sheppard. I'll have them contact you on this frequency."

"Roger that."

John makes the climb down the side of the ship once again, and they all walk towards the eastern ridge in loose group, McKay and Elizabeth at the center with the military circled around them. "Lorne, we have got to get a better method of egress."

"Yes sir. I'll get started on that today."

Delegation is definitely one of the perquisites of being in command. "Olander's sending two more of his guys to join us, they'll check in on channel six, but I want them to stay at the far rear. I don't want to intimidate these people, so have Alvarez and Timmons make their way to the six; you and I will take point."

Lorne nods, and speeds up to catch the two marines. It's only a few minutes later when Cadman pings him on channel six. "Cadman here. I've got Sergeant Lu, and we're tracking about five hundred yards back."

"Roger that. Stay out of sight and monitor the open channel in case we need back up."

"Yes sir."

They haven't been waiting long when they sight the small group of locals approaching them in the dim light. One of them waves an arm in greeting and John raises his arm in return. "This is more like it."

Elizabeth smiles indulgently. "We should have tried this first."

"The major's got a theory about that. He thinks we have two different population groups, maybe these guys are just friendlier."

"I hadn't considered that. What gave him the idea?"

"The fact that we haven't tracked anyone crossing our little section of desert."

Elizabeth looks annoyed that no one bothered to inform her of this piece of information, and possibly that she hadn't thought to ask. "Perhaps they take a route we can't see."

"No one takes the long way around in the desert, Elizabeth. We're smack down in between the two."

The small group of people in flowing robes is getting close enough that they can hear them talking excitedly.

As they approach in the growing dawn, John catalogs them. They are all shorter than the average crew member of the Daedalus, but that population is probably skewed to taller individuals. They're wearing a variety of loose clothing, in shades of white, tan and brown, except for one fellow who's wearing a royal blue hat under a white hood, and the rest are wearing dun-colored head scarves.

Blue Hat, John mentally dubs him, appears to be their leader. Their features are thin and fine, and they are all clean-shaven. Blue Hat, who's rounder and heavier than his companions, has interesting eyes, they're a hazel that's nearly gray, and John's unaccountably reminded of the girl on the front of the National Geographic.

They bow slightly and speak their greetings, and even though it's complete gibberish, it sounds friendly enough.

Elizabeth gives them a small bow in return and says, "Hello, I'm so pleased to meet you."

An expression of confusion spreads among the locals; they really didn't meet many strangers if they honestly expected them to speak the local patois. The head guy tries again, but he uses Ancient this time, in a far more formal manner than before.

Elizabeth grins, and replies very slowly, stumbling over some of the words; they had only a small amount of video with Jack O'Neill speaking Ancient and there was a whole language that they didn't know how to pronounce. There had been so little time to focus on spoken language; translation of Atlantean scientific text had been their priority.

At her words, every one of them drops to their knees and lay their foreheads on the sand, their arms pulled back to meet their ankles. Blue Hat is at the apex of the group, and the rest fall into neat ranks behind him to create a chevron shape. All of them are murmuring in what can only be Ancient.

"Well, that's unexpected," Rodney says in a curious voice. "Elizabeth, here."

She turns her head and sees that Rodney is offering his PDA. When she sees what's on the display, she scolds him. "Rodney, you've been holding out on me."

A look of sharp pain crosses Rodney's face. "It's, uh, something Peter was working on in his spare time. Before. It's not done, I was..."

"Thank you Rodney." She smiles apologetically, understanding what Rodney didn't really say.

Elizabeth gets to her knees and mirrors the obeisance after laying the PDA between her and Blue Hat. John makes a gesture for the rest his group to take a step back. They crouch in the sand and Elizabeth kneels just as long as the villagers.

Eventually the prayer session, or whatever, comes to a close and they all sit up, nearly as one. John smiles and nods, and Blue Hat smiles back at him.

Elizabeth picks up Rodney's PDA from the sand and John glances over to see how he's handling the cavalier treatment of his personal equipment. Rodney looks unhappy, but surprisingly he's not complaining.

Blue Hat takes the PDA from her, and studies it carefully. He hands it back to her and says something. Elizabeth shuffles a little closer and shows him how to scroll the screen and points to it. "Docui." She points to herself, "Elizabeth."

Blue Hat nods furiously. He repeats the word and points to himself, "Anbur," signaling that he understands perfectly.

Elizabeth scrolls through the PDA again and making sure that Anbur is watching, laboriously asks if she can come to visit his town. He smiles widely and makes a gesture back towards the east, then nods furiously, obviously excited by the prospect.

Elizabeth holds up two fingers, "Two diei."

Anbur stands up and speaks freely to his retinue in the first language they'd heard. John is guessing that he's telling them to expect visitors in a couple of days. Anbur touches the PDA and points to his village again, and Elizabeth nods. "I'll make sure to bring it."

"Wait, Elizabeth, give this to him." Rodney unzips his vest and pulls out one of the useless, Ancient tschotchkes from his pocket.

"Just how much stuff did you take back to the SGC, Rodney?"

"Just a few things, examples mostly. I'd forgotten it was in my jacket pocket."

John flexes his eyebrows in response, and Rodney ignores him in favor of stepping forward to watch as Anbur takes the device.

When it dimly lights up, Rodney grins triumphantly. "Yes, I thought so. Not particularly strong, but he definitely has the gene."

Anbur laughs out loud and tries to hand it back to Rodney. He raises his hands, "No, you keep it. It's really hard to make it stay off, and I don't think we want to reveal that much to them yet."

"Good idea, Rodney, though if they have any higher level of Ancient tech, it's going to be hard to avoid." Elizabeth wraps Anbur's hand around the toy and gently pushes his hand back.

Anbur does the formal bow again and Elizabeth replies in kind. With a wave, Anbur and his compatriots turn and head home.

John hears Lorne checking in with the Daedalus, so he waits until Anbur's group is a good distance away, before he turns to follow Elizabeth.

Cadman and Lu are waiting about half way down the slope, and Elizabeth stops. "John?"

"Just in case. I wasn't really expecting to have the two top civilians from Atlantis with us."

"Getting cautious in your old age?"

He gives her an opaque look and shakes his head. "That's not like you, Elizabeth."

"Must be the heat." She looks up, but it's just now warming up from the evening chill.

"Right. Come on, let's get out of the sun."

 

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