The first time Commander Johnathan T. Sheppard saw Maris V was on the U.S.S Infinity's viewscreens. It was a yellowing ball of a planet with shreds of cloud layer flat against it like tatters of pressed lace. Up close, its surface was harsh, forbidding, covered with mountains and huge patches of desert and subject to ferocious storms that swept its surface like a scouring pad.484Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ2bUlpt7g6P
The single inhabited city lay attached to the gleaming sprawl of the modern spaceport which had been dubbed Jutterdon Station. Sheppard had seen holograms of some of the other cities the Velonans had built and subsequently abandoned. The older cities seemed to have been worn down by the elements, some to mere ridges in the land; but the one attached to Jutterdon was far more interesting, far more advanced in its technology. Sheppard had not been able to determine whether the Velonans had outgrown the cities they had built and moved on to construct newer, better ones or whether there had been a consolidation of the Velonan population from the older cities into the newest and best one.
When Sheppard had beamed down from the Infinity, he had noticed immediately the superiority of Jutterdon Station's equipment, its appointments, and its eager personnel. It was the largest, most ambitious, and most elaborate station he had ever been to.
He was mulling these facts over while he shaved, squinting at his reflection in the mirror that dominated one of the gleaming bathrooms in his suite of rooms in the station. The man looking back at him was medium-sized, lanky but well-muscled, and in good physical shape from frequent workouts in the station's gymnasium. Shrewd intelligence and humor shone out from behind his lively gray-green eyes. Sheppard personally felt his appearance was acceptable in polite company and left it at that.
Of course, if a number of very attractive women in several different solar systems felt there was far more to him than that, well, who the hell was he to argue?
He heard a sound in the living room and scraped the last of the foam from his face before he walked out of the lavatory. A tall, graceful Velonan woman was collecting his breakfast tray. She glanced up at him and smiled. Sheppard returned the grin---and then remembered he was wearing only a casually wrapped towel around his waist. He grabbed for the overlapping edges that held it together to anchor it securely.
"I didn't expect anyone to be in for that tray so soon," he said.
"One hour is sufficient to ingest your food."
"Yes. It usually is," Sheppard agreed mildly.
The woman studied the plate with its almost untouched eggs, bacon and toast. The eggs were green---possibly some aberrant factor in the chickens the Velonans raised. "It is unhealthy to leave food waste exposed to the air," she commented.
"That's a good point," Sheppard agreed. "If you'll excuse me...."
"You did not eat your eggs, Commander Sheppard. Were they satisfactory?"
"No, no," he said quickly, not wishing to give offense. "To be truthful, after the night I had, eggs just didn't appeal to me." Green eggs in particular, he thought. The going-away party his fellow senior officers on the Infinity had thrown for him had been a rather boisterous affair that had gone on far into the night, and he'd consumed a generous amount of the food and libations available. His stomach quivered again at the thought.
The Velonans were apparently unaware of that kind of human digestive frailty. The woman studied the eggs critically. "I see. Not satisfactory. You wish something else?"
"No. No food at all. Don't worry about it." He apologetically indicated his state of undress. "If you'll excuse me...?" he said again and ducked back into the bathroom. When he heard the woman exit, he slipped into the spacious bedroom and changed into his standard duty uniform. The new Fleet design (black form-fitting jumpsuit, with cranberry inset to designate command officer) was so comfortable he almost preferred it to civilian clothes. In fact, everything about his stay at Jutterdon Station had been more than comfortable, to date.
When he first saw the luxury apartment he'd been given, with its two bedrooms, two baths, large living room and dining area, he had asked for something smaller and less ostentatious. To his surprise, Bucca, the zektinoler or station manager, had assured him there was nothing smaller.
Many things puzzled him about the station and its personnel. He had offhandedly remarked to the Velonan woman who seemed to attend the apartment that he preferred classic oil spacescapes to the contemporary abstract holo presentations that hung on the walls. He had gone out to sightsee for a few hours and returned to find the suite walls decorated with classic Alicia Booker and Barry Barr paintings. They appeared to be originals, and yet he knew the genuine originals were own almost exclusively by museums and art galleries, most of them on planets of Sol's system. Then there had been the plants. His mother had been an avid gardener and passed her love of green and blooming things on to him. The day before, he had noticed that an Earthlike garden in the mall was inefficiently planted. The plants that needed more sun to prosper were too much in the shade, and he had mentioned the fact in passing to the zektinoler. An hour later, he had gone by the garden again and seen that the plants had all been rotated to take best advantage of the sun. Small things---but they had been changed so quickly!
Sheppard knew Fleet was asking questions about the Velonans and Jutterdon Station, questions that needed answering. He had a hunch that the Infinity's rendezvous with Atlantis, ostensibly for the transfer of personnel, was an elaborate excuse to probe for some of those answers.
Captain Elizabeth Weir was a woman he knew only by reputation, but it was a reputation for perspicacity, clear logic, and decisive action. Sheppard had a hunch that the captain wouldn't mind her new first officer doing a little detective work on his own. He decided to go looking for anything that might provide Weir with insight about Jutterdon and the Velonans.
The small, comfortable lounge off the main shopping concourse had a viewscreen that could tie into Jutterdon Station's sophisticated perimeter satellite system (designed to alert the control center to the approach of any space vessel). The lounge also boasted an entrance into an attractively terraced garden that led to an Olympic-sized swimming pool, but the two young Fleet officers in the lounge were far more interested in the viewscreen.
"Come on, come on," Ensign Orr said impatiently, "where is she?" Bernie Orr was a likeable redhead, twenty-one and fresh out of the Academy. He was enthusiastic, energetic, and still inclined to talk first and think later.
His companion was a few years older, and the extra layer of experience was evident in the way he moved and spoke. "Give it some space, Keith," he chuckled. "She's practically still on her shakedown cruise."
"Carson, they say she's never late---not since the old burrhog took over the captain's chair."
"You wouldn't be talking about the Atlantis, would you, Ensign Orr?" Sheppard's voice had just the slightest edge as it came from behind them.
The two young officers whipped around, shocked. As soon as they realized a senior officer was addressing them, they snapped to attention. "Sir. Yes, sir." Orr barked.
Sheppard smiled at the automatic and traditional response of the recent Academy graduate. "You can stand at ease, gentlemen," he said. "We're not aboard yet."
"You know we're assigned to her, sir?" Orr was nonplussed.
"Of course." The commander extended his hand. "Sheppard. First officer." He sized them both up as they shook hands. Orr was tall and thin, oddly attractive in a homely kind of way. The Scottish officer, Carson Beckett, stood 5'10" in height, stocky in build, his arm smile offsetting the strangeness of the device he wore over his eyes. Sheppard knew Beckett had been born blind, his optical nerve endings dead. Sympathetic surgeons had installed implants when he was a baby and given him better than 20/20 vision using a prosthetic called a VISOR---Visual Instrument and Sight Organ Replacement.
The VISOR was actually more than just a replacement for his eyes. It allowed him to see telescopically and microscopically, as well as view the whole spectrum of light from X-ray to infrared. Beckett had also been serving on the Infinity as conn officer; but his duty shifts had not often coincided with Sheppard's and the older man knew him primarily by reputation.
"I read the service records on all new personnel on the trip out," Sheppard said. "Excellent academic record at Fleet Academy, Mr. Orr."
"Thank you, sir."
"I noticed you were also the leading scorer on the null-G ball team."
Orr smiled and shrugged it away. "You don't play alone. I had terrific support from my teammates."
"And you, Mr. Beckett---Captain McConnell thought very highly of your navigation on the Infinity. Why did you request transfer to the Atlantis?"
Beckett's quick smile flashed enthusiastically. "Who wouldn't, sir? The biggest, newest, fastest starship in the fleet...."
"Commanded by the best captain in the fleet," Sheppard interrupted smoothly. "Right, Mr. Orr?"
Orr colored with embarrassment, red crawling up his neck, flaming his cheeks and hairline. Sheppard had heard the "old burrhog" remark. Orr met Sheppard's eyes bravely, but his reply was a sheepish, "Yes, sir."
Beckett had been darting surreptitious glances at the viewscreen. "She's overdue, you know, sir," he said suddenly.
"That's not like Weir---what I've heard of her, anyway," Sheppard frowned, concerned.
"Was there something you wanted us for, sir?" Beckett asked.
"Yes." Sheppard dragged his attention back to the two young officers. "I'm contacting all Atlantis personnel in transit here in Jutterdon. Fleet is very interested in this station, and I'm trying to put together a preliminary report to give to Captain Weir. I'd like you to keep me informed on anything unusual that you notice."
"Unusual, sir? Like what?"
Sheppard considered the question carefully. The answer wasn't easy to define. "Anything that you can't explain. Anything that seems out of the ordinary. Incidents that may seem like---well, almost like magic."
"But this is a modern station, sir," Orr protested. "Magic....."
"It's an alien-built station, Ensign. We don't know much about the Velonans, and I suspect we should have found out a lot more before this."
A soft chime sounded on the station's public address system, and a pleasant female voice announced, "Commander Sheppard. Please come to Zektinoler Bucca's office."
"Excuse me," Sheppard said to the others. They nodded quickly, and turned back to the viewscreen.
The administrator's office was in the old city that abutted the modern station. A sidewalk carried Sheppard diagonally across the widest part of the complex; and when he stepped off, he had only a pleasant five-minute walk to reach his destination. The corridors of the old city were narrow and high---rather like the Velonans, Sheppard reflected. They all looked to be about sixty Earth-years old, even the ones Sheppard knew to be younger. It might have been their grayish skin that lent them such a look of age; certainly their tall, thin frames suggested the fragility of old bones.
Bucca's assistant escorted Sheppard into the zektinoler's office. Bucca was waiting behind a huge, elegant desk of unusual configuration. Its drawers seemed to fit into thehighly-polished wood with an almost organic grace and beauty of line. The rest of the furniture---the desk chair, the side tables, the occasional chairs, even a graceful cabinet---were of different shapes but made of the same burgundy-toned wood. A beautiful selection of Earth fruit stood in a silver bowl on the desk.
The administrator rose and extended his left hand to Sheppard. They had met when the initial group of personnel in transit to the Atlantis beamed down to Jutterdon. Apparently, the fine points of shaking hands had eluded Bucca, and he had gotten the procedure confused. Mumbling apologies when Sheppard automatically held out his right hand, Bucca switched hands and managed to get his fingers and thumb in the right position to execute the courtesy.
"I came as soon as I could, Zektinoler," Sheppard said, settling into a chair opposite Bucca.
"Thank you." Bucca sat down and pushed some translucent message tabs around his desk. "Your vessel, Atlantis, is overdue."
Sheppard flicked a look at the wall chronometer behind Bucca. "By an hour and forty minutes."
"Ah. Yes. That was the scheduled arrival time. This is unusual, is it not? I had understood Starfleet ships had the reputation for unusual punctuality. Especially this Atlantis of yours."
"That right. If nothing interferes."
"Of course." Bucca nodded and hesitated. "But what could possibly interfere with a starship?"
"You'd be surprised," Sheppard said quietly. "'There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy.'"
"Ah. I am afraid I do not understand."
Sheppard studied the Velonan administrator thoughtfully. Bucca was a product of his planet-bound heritage. The Velonan had detected the initial contact team in their midst almost immediately and had subsequently shown an instantaneous grasp of starship travel and communication and the fact of the Space Federation's presence. Yet the concept of the dangers inherent in space travel seemed to elude them as completely as the ritual of handshaking.
"It doesn't matter," Sheppard said. "A good many things can put a starship behind schedule."
"Yes." Bucca smiled pleasantly. "But I trust we have made your waiting comfortable?"
"I would say luxurious." Sheppard watched as the administrator shrugged it away as if it were of no moment. "Would it seem ungrateful if I ask for some information?"
"As you wish."
"I find it interesting that in the midst of your ancient culture you've managed to build a completely modern trilurium and duraplast staging station. The energy supply to your fabrication facilities must be as abundant as I've heard."
Bucca smiled enthusiastically, his teeth flashing whitely in his gray face. "Geothermal energy is the one great blessing of this planet. I will have all the details of our energy source sent to your quarters."
"Thank you." Bucca was so unforthcoming with that information, Sheppard was sure whatever he provided would be next to useless. "But it still seems incredible that you've built this huge station so rapidly and so---so perfectly suited to our---to Fleet's needs."
Bucca delicately scooted the bowl of fruit across the desk toward Sheppard. "Would you care for something, Commander? I am told these fruits are considered an Earth delicacy."
"Well, if there's an apple there..." Sheppard glanced over the selection. He saw grapes, oranges, bananas, pears, peaches, tangerines, strawberries---but no apple. "I guess not," he said, disappointed.
"I am sorry, Commander."
"It doesn't matter. What I was saying was..." He glanced past Bucca to the credenza behind the desk and stared. "Well, I'll be damned." Bucca turned his head to follow Sheppard's gaze. There was a second bowl of fruit there, and a gleaming red apple surmounted the pile.
"Ah. Yes. There was another selection here. Please help yourself."
Sheppard rose and moved around Bucca's desk to pick up and examine the almost glowing red apple. "I swear I didn't notice this." He sniffed it, and the sweet aroma that filled his nostrils instantly reminded him of the apple tree that had grown in his family's backyard when he was a boy.
"Does your failure to notice it make it unwelcome?"
Sheppard shook his head. "Not at all, Zektinoler."
Sheppard smiled confidently. "I trust it will be the same with Jutterdon Station, Commander. A few easily answered questions about it won't make Fleet appreciate it less."
Sheppard eyed Bucca thoughtfully. Too smooth an answer, he thought. Too glib.
He took a bite of the apple, its tangy tartness arousing his tastebuds as he chewed it. Bucca waited for a reply, and Sheppard took his time before he finally said, "I'm sure it won't, sir." He held up the apple and smiled. "This is delicious. Thank you." He turned toward the door and tossed a final line over his shoulder. "Good morning, Zektinoler Bucca."
Bucca boosted himself out of his chair as the door closed behind Sheppard. He turned around and hissed angrily at the empty room. "You have been admonished not to do that. Why can't you understand? It will arouse their suspicions..." He folded his arms firmly. "....and if that happens, we will have to punish you. We will, I promise you!"
Orr had discovered the soda fountain tucked in a corner of the vast shopping area of the station. Carson Beckett loved it. It was an exact duplication of the most traditional soda found he had ever seen. The marble-topped counter; the taps for soda water and syrup; the covered bins for ice cream cartons, dishes of nuts, cherries, chocolate and candy sprinkles; the high stools on the opposite side of the counter---every detail was correct.
The two young officers sat at the counter enjoying the ambience. Beckett noticed that the ceiling fans that swished the air around were beautiful reproductions of early 20th-Century wooden-bladed fans. The counterman, wearing striped shirt and white pants and a white fore-and-aft cap, handed Orr a sundae that Beckett considered pretty plain. A thick cone of vanilla ice cream decked in a coat of fudge syrup and capped with a crown of frothy whipped cream sat in a lacy silver sundae dish.
Orr grinned happily at Beckett. "I've been waiting for one of those. The Infinity just doesn't have a good ice cream maker. It always tastes synthetic."
He dipped into the concoction, savored it, and his eyes closed as he murmured in delight. "Oh, my...."
"What?"
"It's just like the ice cream my grandma used to make on the farm. Try some?"
"Nay." Beckett tilted his head, dreaming...remembering. "Nobody could make what I'd really like to have." The counterman watched him, listening intently. "There was only one place---in my home town---that ever made a chocolate sundae with peanut butter fudge syrup and a mound of blue whipped cream and a cherry on top." He shook his head and sighed softly. God, those were good."
"What was the significance of the blue whipped cream?" Orr asked.
Beckett grinned at him cheefully. "Who knows? That's just how they had to be. Last time I had one was befoere I left for the Academy my first year--"
The counterman reached out and gently placed before him a chocolate sundae in a traditional tulip glass, the ice cream topped with peanut butter fudge syrup, a satisfyingly high mound of blue whipped cream, and a bright red maraschino cherry on top. Beckett studied it thoughtfully for a long moment, then he picked up the spoon and tasted a big mouthful.
Hughes watched curiously. "Is it...."
"Perfect," Beckett sighed. "Just like magic." Then, realizing what he'd said, he looked at Orr. Orr stared back. Just like magic.
"I think we ought to report this to Commander Sheppard," Beckett said.
"Right," Orr said, standing.
"Hold it," Beckett said, clamping a hand on Orr's shoulder. "After I finish this."
The mall foyer was a dazzling construction of trilurium and glass, light and airy and decorated with tastefully arranged clusters of trees, shrubs and flowers, some of them Earth plants and others of alien origin. A number of Fleet officers passed to and from the mall area through the foyer. Most of them were visitors from the Infinity, Sheppard knew, down for the opportunity to look around the station. All personnel transferring to the Atlantis had been given transit quarters on Jutterdon Station.
As he entered the foyer, he spotted Dr. Janet Frasier and her son, Wesley. Frasier would be the Atlantis's new chief medical officer. Sheppard knew her career record was so outstanding she had achieved the position after just thirteen (!) years in Starfleet. She was also one of the most beautiful women he'd ever seen.
"Dr. Frasier!" he called out.
Wesley looked around and then back at his mother. "All-right! Commander Sheppard!"
Dr. Frasier slowed to allow Sheppard to allow Sheppard to join them, but she didn't smile. She was naturally reserved with strangers. Sheppard had only met her briefly on a few social mixers aboard the Infinity on its journey out to Jutterdon. She wasn't one for small talk, and after seeing how she dealt with the lines unattached male officers had offered her, Sheppard had decided not to approach her in that way.
He had noticed upon first meeting Janet Frasier that her face and figure would ensure that she always looked at least ten years younger than her real age. But her deep hazel eyes reflected not only a quick intelligence but a strong, vibrant personality. If she was retiring around strangers, that was her business.
Wesley, her red-headed son, was small, compact and brimming with the same lively intelligence, multiplied by at least four. He was only moderately good looking, but he glowed with enthusiasm for life and had a cheerful, forthcoming personality. Sheppard had a few talks with him about starship technology on the trip out. Wesley asked thoughtful questions, and Sheppard had discovered the boy listened to the answers.
"Hello, Wesley. Enjoying your stay at Jutterdon Station?"
"Yes, sir!"
Sheppard realized that Janet had acknowledged his presence and was waiting for him to proceed. "I saw you and thought I'd join your stroll. If I may." He smiled charmingly.
Janet seemed dubious---and uncharmed. "We were planning to do some shopping."
Sheppard persisted. "I've been meaning to visit the mall myself. If I'm welcome?"
"Of course." She began to move to the glass door that let into the covered airy mall. Sheppard strode beside her, Wesley trailing slightly to the rear, studying the two adults.
The mall followed the same theme as the foyer---sun and air, pleasant vegetation and colorful, fragrant blossoms. It was dotted with attractive shops and brightly decorated booths which dispensed food, beverages, and merchandise of all kinds. The Velonan merchants were all attentive and almost too polite to the Fleet personnel who were buying their wares. Janet scanned the immediate shops and booths, weighing her interest in them and ignoring Sheppard.
"Mom's not unfriendly, sir. She's just shy around men she doesn't know,"
Wesley said guilelessly.
Janet snapped around to him, cheeks aflame. "Wesley!"
"A wise policy," Sheppard said. "I feel the same way about ladies I've only just met." He looked at Janet with an amused smile, and he was forced to smile back.
"Doctor Frasier..." Sheppard began. "Even though we're not officially part of the Atlantis yet, I thought there might be something useful we could do while we wait."
Janet glanced at him, one eye brow rising in a question. "Useful? How, Commander?"
"Investigating some things I've noticed here." Janet moved away from him, toward a table in front of a shop dealing in exotic materials and fabrics. The bolts of cloth were lined up on the table, several standing on end to drape the fabric for best effect. Sheppard trailed after the doctor and waited while she glanced over the merchandise. "Captain Weir will be inspecting this station for Fleet. Every scrap of information we can provide her with will make her job easier."
"Mmmm." Janet seemed more interested in the cloth. Quickly, Sheppard detailed the things he had personally noticed---the paintings, the mysterious appearance of the additional bowl of fruit with his requested apple. Janet listened and appraisingly fingered a fold of tangerine-colored material.
"Don't you see how questionable these incidents are?" Sheppard concluded.
"I'm afraid I don't. What really happened?" The Velonans came in and changed the décor in your rooms----at your request. A bowl of fruit that you hadn't noticed...."
"I'm sure it was."
"A bowl that you hadn't noticed," Janet went on firmly, "contained a piece of fruit you wanted. I really don't believe Captain Weir will find that significant." She picked up a bolt of maroon material and flared one end of it out to look at it in the light. "This would look lovely with a gold pattern in it," she said to the waiting shopkeeper. The Velonan nodded and began to look further at the bolts of fabric he had on the table. Wesley watched the man with close interest as his mother turned to look directly at Sheppard. "I'm sure, Commander, there are reasons for a young first officer to want to demonstrate his efficient, his astuteness, and his energy to his new captain..."
"Now, just a damn minute!"
"But my duty and interests lie outside the command structure." Janet interrupted herself as she saw Sheppard staring past her at something that caught his eye.
The bolt of cloth that had beenplain maroon before now had an intricate silver and gold figure worked into the background!
"Isn't it nice that he happened to have exactly what you asked for?" Sheppard asked, with just a light touch of sarcasm.484Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡzUproUQUju
Janet glanced at him, then back at the merchant who was smiling serenely and waiting for her decision. "Thank you. I'll take the entire bolt. Send it to the Atlantis when it arrives, charged to Doctor Janet Frasier."484Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡyOujeGB5Az
The merchant bowed and ticked off the information on a flat credit monitor that hung at his waist. Then he gathered up the bolt of cloth and took it inside to the shop to be wrapped. Janet looked around at Sheppard with a bemused expression on her face. Sheppard held out his hand, indicating a direction they could take. She nodded and walked with him. 484Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡqzJxnQ6ePZ
"You were saying, Doctor?" Sheppard asked.
Janet looked at him uncomfortably. "I was saying that you were inventing work in order to curry favor and impress your new captain." Her chin came up and she met his eyes squarely. "I apologize for that, Commander Sheppard."484Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡFhdqXATE1z
"I prefer John."484Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡTcM9eTIkuk
"John it is."484Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡY0ugn8peOF
"That gold-patterened cloth wasn't in the pile when we first looked at it, Mom. I'm sure of it," Wesley said.484Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡCA4VjdgBI2
"I agree." Janet paused and looked back at the shop where the merchant had once more appeared behind the table to present his wares. "Maybe this is something Elizabeth would be interested in knowing."484Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡYWvdWiL7dH
"Elizabeth? You know Captain Weir?"484Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡLSfBZQ7JZQ
Wesley interrupted proudly. "She served on the Javelin with my father."484Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡAkHfki8n5q
Janet put a hand on the boy's shoulder and smiled apologetically at Sheppard. "Wes. Commander Sheppard's not interested in family history. I couldn't say I know Captain Weir personally, Commander. We met, that's all. And it was a long time ago." She frowned thoughtfully. "That incident with the cloth was peculiar. Tell you what, I'll keep my eyes open and let you know anything else I see."484Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡgudiOiiG8V
"I appreciate it---Janet, isn't it?"
She nodded, hiding a smile. Most senior officers were on a first name basis on any ship, but she had no intention of letting young John Sheppard get too familiar too fast. Still, his observations on the odd incidents that had occurred appeared to have some basis in fact. What were the Velonans, and what were their intentions with this staging station? Sheppard was correct in asking everyone he could contact to stay alert and report anything odd for Weir's attention.484Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡHK3GKmqNCc
"Sir..." They turned as Carson Beckett hurried up to them. "The Atlantis is arriving, but..."484Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡurviDJX8Rq
"Is this an official report, Lieutenant?" Sheppard interrupted crisply.484Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡpG6eQInOtL
"Sorry, Commander." Beckett pulled himself to attention and delivered the message formally. "Sir, Lieutenant Beckett reporting the Atlantis is now arriving, but without the saucer section."484Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡUiNh13qx8s
Sheppard exchanged a quick, worried look with Janet. "Stardrive section only ? What the hell happened?"484Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡHXTpzwEWty
"No information, sir. Captain Weir has signaled that she wants you to beam up immediately.484Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡydK4MZAmXO
"Our new C.O. doesn't waste time," Janet observed.484Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡxgM6uMtkge
"Which makes it a good rule for me, too," Sheppard said wryly. "Thanks, Lieutenant. I appreciate your finding me so quickly."484Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡch3Pdw0kPt
"Yes, sir," Beckett said. "Sir, if I may, Ensign Orr and I noticed something earlier that we thought worth bringing to your attention...."484Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡEqSKe3jIRJ
Sheppard raised his hand. "File a report with me back aboard ship." He touched the communicator worn on the left breast of his uniform. "Atlantis, this is Commander Sheppard on Jutterdon Station. Standing by to beam up."484Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡUcLJ1hZTAm
"Atlantis to Sheppard. Energizing."484Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡvkgZXg6Mdl
The air around Sheppard shimmered and danced. Slowly the glittering beams covered his image, and then faded away into thin air. Janet had never ceased to be amazed at the transporter process, even though she was fully aware of its operating principle. Fleet technology was replete with wonderful achievements, but the method of disassembling the corporate atoms of an object of a living being, transporting them across vast distances of space, and then reassembling them perfectly was one of their greatest. She reached out to put her arm around Wesley's shoulders and nodded to Beckett.484Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ2nFpvSYMr2
"If you'll excuse us, Lieutenant---now that the Atlantis is here, we've got to make our plans to beam aboard, too."484Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡl8ukjIfNKj
"It's only the battle section, ma'am," Beckett said. "We don't know what they've been through---or where the saucer section is."484Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡiJyzt9Mkp7
Janet looked at him levelly, her face untroubled. "Then I'm sure Captain Weir will enlighten us. When she feels it's appropriate for us to know."484Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡA4MUOg5OF8
