TODAY...609Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡnq5EvwJ47k
The U.S.S Atlantis 2812-E made her way through space at considerably less than her normal, brisk clip. The reason was quickly apparent to any observer, for the Atlantis was surrounded by half a dozen far smaller, less speedy ships. Ships that had only the most minimal of warp capabilities, and at least one whose warp coils had overheated and was being towed along.609Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ67Cbrl3heF
Looking at the telescreen, in regards to their entourage, Commander John Sheppard commanded. "I feel like a mother duck."609Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡE67RWchQdY
Jay One turned at his station and regarded Sheppard with such clear befuddlement that it was all Weir could do to keep a straight face. "Don't say it, Jay," she pleaded, heading it off.609Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ4QmrJCbysY
" 'It' Captain?"609Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡbDBG3Dl9Gm
"Yes. Don't begin inquiring as to whether Mr. Sheppard will begin quacking, or waddling, or laying eggs or acquiring webbing between his toes. The answer's no."609Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡHNk4Et5SlJ
"Very well, ma'am," Jay One replied reasonably. "In any event, it will not be necessary, since you have already voiced all the possibilities that occurred to me."609Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡr8utwpkhnY
Weir opened her mouth again and then shut it. "Sheppard and Counselor Teyla Emmagan exchanged broad grins.609Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡkMSjQNhnek
"Although," Jay One added thoughtfully, there is a slight tendency toward waddling..."609Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡxtlvzyhYmr
Sheppard's face immediately darkened. The fact that Teyla was now grinning so widely that it looked as if her face was going to split in two didn't help matters. "Mister Jay, I will have you know I do not, never have, and never will, 'waddle.'" 609Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡOhpXmLYq8W
"You tend to sway when you walk, sir," Jay One replied, undeterred and apparently oblivious of the imagery he was evoking. "A kind of rhythmic, side-to-side motion that could under some conditions be construed as...609Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡvGDyHSeTVM
"No, it couldn't," Sheppard said sharply.609Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡyB72QoNmj0
"If you would like, I can demonstrate," Jay One began, half up out of his chair.609Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡbj61YuQiZJ
Both Sheppard and Weir quickly said, "No!" Surprised by the vehemence of the reaction, Jay One sat down. 609Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡBIf7kCsAOe
"That won't be necessary," Weir added, clearing her throat and trying to sound authoritative. "Mr. Jay, I have observed Mr. Sheppard's---gait----on many occasions, and I feel utterly confident in stating that the commander does not, in fact, waddle."609Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡHgmDJa6zzT
"Very well, ma'am," Jay One said.609Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡYyUx4THAm3
"Good. I'm glad that's sett....."609Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡk2gCVGN8A2
"Actually, it's more of a swagger than a waddle."609Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡdZdNULzYEc
Sheppard began to feel a distant thudding in his temples. "I don't waddle---and I don't swagger---I just----walk."609Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡyJvMhwEYOX
He looked to Teyla for solace and received absolutely none as she told him, "Well, actually, you do have a bit of a swagger."609Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡJQp8CLkB7O
"Et tu, Teyla?"609Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡNFnAeZneXc
"There's nothing wrong with it. Actually, I've always considered it part of your charm. An outward display of confidence in yourself, your capabilities, and your position."
Sheppard drew himself up and said serenely, "Very well. I can live with that."
And then in a voice so low that only Sheppard could hear, Emmagan added, "Of course, that may in turn be covering up something----a basic lack of confidence, or maybe insecurity with...."
He fired a glance at her, but before he could reply, Lieutenant Micah Hayes at the conn glanced over her shoulder and said, "Ma'am, we are within range of Themis Station. Estimated time of arrival, twenty-two minutes."
Thank God, thought Weir. Out loud, she just said, "Inform them that we're within range."
"There's a ton of ion activity in the area," Hayes commented after a moment more. "Thirty, maybe forty ships have passed through here within the past twenty-four hours. They must be having a lot of visitors."
Sheppard glanced at Weir. "More refugees?"
"Undoubtedly," Weir affirmed. "Matters should be fairly---interesting---upon our arrival."
Weir had never seen a space station quite so packed. The place was bristling with ships, docked at every port. Many others were in a holding pattern. Some were in the process of switching places, taking turns so that different ships would be able to take advantage of the station facilities. The Atlantis dwarfed all the other vessels. Partly because of that, she wasn't even able to draw near, and settled for falling into orbit around the station, well inside transporter range but far enough away that there was no possible danger of collision with a smaller ship.609Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ5cPbBysVmJ
At tactical, Lieutenant Swanson said, "Ma'am, I've been endeavoring to hail Themis Station. There's a lot of subspace chatter, though. I'm having trouble punching through."
"With all the ships jamming the area, I can't say I'm surprised. The reports of the Centauri refugee situation didn't begin to approach just how comprehensive the current state of affairs is."
"Incoming signal, ma'am."
"On screen."
The screen rippled and the image of Themis Station faded away to be replaced by a face that Weir had not been expecting. Weir found herself staring into the stony, perpetually disapproving gaze of Admiral George Hammond. Weir could sense Sheppard stiffening nearby.
Hammond's history with the Atlantis was not exactly a happy one. He'd never been a particular fan of Weir. Sheppard had voiced the opinion to Weir that it stemmed not from an assessment of Weir's performance as an officer, but from Hammond's likely jealousy of how well Weir was regarded by personnel both above and below her. Hammond had temporarily taken command of the Atlantis at one time, and he'd butted heads directly with Sheppard the entire time.
Hammond had a reputation for efficiency and for getting the job done, but he and Weir different on a very core, fundamental issue. Men followed Hammond because, by the chain of command, they had to. They followed Weir because they wanted to, and no amount of blustering or authoritative officiousness on the part of Hammond was going to change that.
What it boiled down to was that Hammond's was a limited personality. He knew that he world only go so far and no further, would accomplish only so much and no more. Weir's vistas, on the other hand, seemed potentially limitless. Hammond would never be able to forgive him for that.
Sheppard glanced at Weir and saw no flicker of change in her deadpan expression. Whatever was going through Weir's mind in relation to Hammond, clearly she had no intention of tipping it off to any observers. As always, Weir remained the consummate poker player. She got to her feet and faced Hammond, her hands draped behind her back.
"Admiral Hammond," Weir said evenly. "I was unaware that you were now in charge of Themis Station. Congratulations on your promotion and new assignment."
Hammond didn't look the least bit amused, which was fairly standard for him. He never looked the least bit amused. "This is not a new post for me, Captain," he said, emphasizing Weir's rank in a manner that didn't indicate respect, but rather was clearly a not-so-subtle reminder of who was the captain and who was the admiral. "Although I've been cooling my heels here for so long that it's starting to seem that way. Where the hell have you been? We've been here for three days waiting for you."
"We could have been here far more quickly, Admiral," Weir said, unflappable. "However, that would have required abandoning the vessels which we were required to escort. Since we're supposed to be providing humanitarian aid, we could hardly do so by leaving behind those to whom the aid is to be provided."
Hammond gestured impatiently. "Fine. Whatever. Ready the main meeting room, and prepare to beam us over."
"Here on the Atlantis, sir?" Weir asked.
"I thought my orders were fairly clear."
"We had been told that the meeting would take place on Themis Station...."
"I'm telling you differently. This place is a madhouse! Centauri refugees everywhere, station facilities stretched to the limit. There are people camping out in the conference rooms, for God's sake!"
Hammond said in a low voice, "Ah, those irritating needy people."
He thought he'd said it quietly enough that Hammond didn't hear, but Hammond's gaze quickly shifted and homed in on Sheppard with daggerlike efficiency. Realizing that possible vituperation would hardly smooth matters over, Weir said, "No problem, Admiral. We can be ready for you by 1300 hours, if that will be sufficient."
Hammond grimaced slightly, which was about as close as he ever came to nod of approval. "Fine," he said, and blinked out.
"Perfect," said Sheppard. "Just who we needed to make a tough situation even tougher."
Weir considered the matter for a moment, and then said, "I'll brief our guest on the change of plans." As she headed for the elevator, she called over her shoulder.
"Be strong, Number One. We've handled the Goa'uld. We can damn well handle Admiral Hammond." She walked out the door.
Sheppard turned to Emmagan and noted, "We're not to allowed to blow up Admiral Hammond."
"Regulations can be a nuisance," Emmagan said sympathetically. Then she seemed to brighten. "Don't worry. Maybe he'll be sufficiently intimidated by your confident swagger."
Sheppard caught himself before he let his reply come out of his mouth, but he couldn't stop the thought. Some of us have reason to be confident, Counselor. Others of us, who----for example----were unable to helm the Atlantis for more than two minutes without crashing her, have far less reason to be confident.
As she sensed his feelings if not his words, Emmagan's mouth fell into a disapproving frown.
"I sense great sarcasm," she said.
Weir sounded the door chime and a voice from within said, "Enter." The door slid open and she entered the guest quarters. The room was mostly dark, with illumination being provided by a few choice sources of light including a lit mirror and a candle. To one side of the room, a man was seated in a most contemplative manner.609Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡnQLRCu2ZAL
"Ambassador Spock," said Weir. "We've arrived."
Spock looked up at her, seeming to pull himself from his devotions with effort. He stared at Weir but said nothing.
"Admiral Hammond desired that the meeting be held on the Atlantis," Weir continued. "Apparently there is an overabundance of activity on Themis Station."
"The place is irrelevant," Spock said after a moment.
Weir felt, ever so slightly, a chill in the base of her spine. Morbidly, she wondered----if a Vulcan were ever infected by a Goa'uld symbiont, would anyone be able to tell?
"Do you need anything before the meeting?"
"I do not."
"All right. I'll have one of my officers bring you when the time has come."
Spock inclined his head slightly in acknowledgment.
Nobody had been more surprised than Weir when he had rendezvoused with the transport that had brought Balus Spock to the Atlantis. Spock had been on assignment on Sebas. It was a measure of how seriously the Space Federation took the fall of the Centauri Republic that they had requested Spock attend the Centauri Summit. It had taken Spock no small effort to quietly extricate himself from Sebas. Still, Bal Spock was one of the only people Weir knew of who had any familiarity at all with the Centauri people. It was only natural that his presence was desired at the summit.
He continued to gaze levelly at Weir. This was ridiculous. After everything that Weir had been through in her life, one would thing that it would take a hell of a lot more than the stare of a Vulcan to cause her any discomfort. Nonetheless, Weir felt as if she should say---something---but she had no idea what. "We certainly have our work cut out for us," she ventured.
Spock was silent a moment more, and then he said, "Captain...."
"Yes, Ambassador?"
"Vulcans do not engage in small talk."
"Ah" was all Weir could think of to say. Then she nodded, turned and started to walk out. And then, before she could exit the room, Spock stopped her with a word.
"Captain..."
Weir turned, waited with a raised eyebrow.
"I find," Spock said with introspection and a little bemusement, "that I am experiencing a degree of---anticipation---in working with you again. The human phrase would be that I am 'looking forward to it.'" He paused, contemplating it. "Fascinating."
"The galaxy is infinitely fascinating, Ambassador," observed Weir.
"Indeed."
"You know, Ambassador," Weir said after a moment, "Mr. Jay----who was once even more removed from emotions than you---has recently acquired them. You might wish to take the opportunity to talk with him about his newly refined perceptions. You may find them---equally fascinating."
"I will consider it, should the opportunity present itself."
"I'll see that it does. Oh, and Ambassador----" She paused in the door.
"Yes?"
"This," and she waggled a finger between the two of them, "was small talk."
Then she grinned and walked out the door, leaving the ambassador alone in his darkness.
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