ShaViva's Stargate Fan ... Stuff

Chapter 03: All the World’s a Stage
Friday, 3 April 2009 | Time: 0800 | Command Tower, Residential Area | Jack's VIP Quarters

Daniel walked along the corridor carefully balancing two heavy thermos coffee carafes and a bag that contained to-go containers of breakfast from the Thirty-Nine. Reaching the temporary VIP quarters assigned to Jack O'Neill, Daniel waved his free hand over the access panel and grinned as the door slid open. He was not surprised that he was expected. After all, he and Jack had not had an opportunity to catch up with one another since the other man's arrival on Wednesday.

Daniel called out as he made his way over to the small bar and kitchenette, "Beware Geeks bearing gifts." He heard a muffled reply from the sleeping area of the quarters.

Jack O'Neill squinted into the mirror as he considered the part of his face still needing to be shaved. Hearing Daniel's arrival and greeting Jack raised an eyebrow and then grinned. "About time Daniel," he thought, having fully expected the other man to pin him down for a discussion at some point. In fact, Jack was a little surprised Daniel had waited two days before making an appearance.

"Be right out," he called, applying himself to finish as quickly as possible.

Prowling the kitchenette, Daniel found plates, coffee mugs, and utensils and began relaying their breakfast out of the to-go containers so he could reheat everything ... except the coffee. The two industrial type coffee carafes that he had prepared in his quarters would have kept the liquid piping hot. With everything transferred and reheated, Daniel relayed things to the low table in the living area, calling out, "Hurry up ... don't want breakfast to get cold ... again."

"Keep your shirt on Daniel," Jack yelled back, wiping his face and turning to grab a shirt. Had he heard right? Daniel had brought breakfast? Knowing his friend that would mean coffee too - the good stuff.

Leaving one of the two coffee carafes by Jack's plate, Daniel carried his to the side table next to a large easy chair and made himself comfortable while he waited for his friend. It spoke to the seriousness of the current situation that neither man had had an opportunity to say much more than hello upon Jack's arrival. Daniel frowned as he poured coffee from his carafe ... already doctored up with light cream and sugar the way he liked it. The atmosphere outside these quarters was tense with rumors flying and sides being taken, cliques forming, and an underlying air of hostility. Daniel was seriously concerned that someone was going to take action against potentially innocent recent transferees from the SGC...or others that he was hearing more and more speculation about. At the same time, he was confident Jack was aware of the turmoil within Atlantis and was pushing the investigation as rapidly as was feasible. Mohammad, however, had been slow in coming to the Mountain in order to implicate or clear said Mountain, therefore the Mountain had chosen to go to Mohammad...along with coffee and breakfast.

Daniel took a sip of his coffee, sighing in contentment as the rich flavor of the very rare and very hard to get Jamaican Blue Mountain reserve roast slid down his throat. Leaning back in the easy chair, he picked at his meal, loathe to start in earnest before Jack arrived.

"Good morning Daniel," Jack walked into the room, immediately spotting the coffee he'd hoped for and moving to pour himself a cup. Black and still steaming hot ... just the way he liked it. Sitting down at the place his friend had prepared Jack took a sip and sighed appreciatively ... yep - the good stuff! He looked at the meal before him and then glanced across at Daniel curiously. "This is ... nice," he said slowly with his usual feigned ignorance. "Did I forget my birthday again?"

"Nope ... you even got my e-card last October," Daniel quipped in response.

"October," Jack echoed as though it were news to him. "Ri-ight."

"I just figured you hadn't had a chance to breathe since your arrival and the launching of the official investigation," Daniel explained. "Also ... I've not yet made your list of interviewees ... I thought I'd take the General by the horns ... as it were. So ... how are you doing?" The archaeologist took a small bite of his Western Omelette along with shooting his friend a look that somehow managed to convey only concern and no reproach at not having been contacted sooner.

Rather than answer straight up Jack took a few moments to try the breakfast Daniel had kindly provided. Finally though he sat back and stretched out his legs, considering his friend thoughtfully.

"How am I doing?" he repeated. "A lot better than the rest of SG-1 ... well, the ones here in Pegasus, anyway." Jack paused for a moment before continuing. "What do you think about all this Daniel?"

Daniel took a sip of his coffee, reached out and snagged his carafe to refresh his cup while he considered his reply. That very question had been circling his mind like a great bird of prey since the drowning incident and the targets seemed to have become clear. He leaned forward, his eyes reflecting the sorrow and disappointment he felt regarding the current situation. "On the surface it looks two-fold. The first seems to be targeting the past members of SG-1 for some reason. It seems odd that it's happening now ... after the team itself has been essentially retired and its designation retired ... although we are recalled as a unit should the need arise. That leads me to believe we're considered a threat by an unknown someone or group of someones and we're easier to hit at here than within the sanctuary of the SGC."

Jack nodded without saying anything, wanting Daniel to express the entirety of his thoughts before saying anything in return.

The archaeologist paused to again sip his coffee and take a few bites of his meal. He had lost count of the times he and Jack had sat and hashed out problems equally important during various stages of their relationship and over the years. While often a volatile friendship, the bond between the two men was unbreakable...as was their trust in one another. Daniel finally continued. His voice was slower as he brought things together that were as disturbing as the attacks themselves had been.

"The second part ... I see two possible end results. It's sowing mistrust and disrupting relations amongst all Atlantis personnel. With the IOA's shift in focus to Atlantis and the resulting swelling of Atlantis personnel from the SGC ... I'm seeing factions develop ... Us and Them. There's also the real concern that these incidents are casting strong suspicion on Dr. Weir and Lt. Colonel Sheppard ... thus causing further schisms amongst personnel and now among the command staff as well. All the would-be victims are not only SG-1 but high ranking department directors or command personnel."

Daniel glanced at Jack, "Honestly ... I'm not sure SG-1 are targets so much as potential catalysts for some unknown agenda. Do I have suspects? After what the IOA pulled with that Replicator business aboard the Odyssey when we were after the Ark of Truth, guess who tops my list? And they're not the only ones ... we think the Rogue NID element has been cleared out but we know some of them evolved into the TRUST and the TRUST is not only Goa'uld controlled ... there were allegedly honest, upstanding Humans that bought into the philosophy of greed and getting their hands on advanced technology for power's sake."

Leaning back, Daniel regarded Jack sombrely, "And sadly ... we have the fact that the IOA jumped on the opportunity to use the Asgard technology to create the original form of Dr. Weir's body. They could have thrown a wrench into that that we were unable to detect. Elizabeth's routine scans and tests continue to show her free of nanites ... but how can we know beyond any shadow of a doubt that she isn't compromised? And Sheppard too for that matter. I find it hard to believe that these incidents have been perpetrated by them in order to regain command of Atlantis for Weir ... but all the evidence looks damning, especially in light of what Dr. Zelenka overheard and saw. Although ... again ... we know how easy it is to manipulate that as well. SG-1 was put in that same spot when you were framed for trying to assassinate Senator Kinsey."

"I hate those devices," Jack muttered grimly, feeling the usual anger at the mention of Kinsey and how he'd been set up to take the fall for shooting him. If he'd been allowed to make it stick Jack would have a different opinion but sadly he'd been forced to practically hold the mans hand in public. "They haven't come across anything similar out here Daniel ... not that I'm discounting any explanation that doesn't have Zelenka reporting falsely but also clears Sheppard and Elizabeth."

"Jack, this would not be the first time tech has been retro-engineered for nefarious purposes and Earth does not have the monopoly on those with skills to do it. It would also not be the first time tech has gone missing from lock-up at Area 51...which was precisely my argument against allowing the Ark to be secured there as security and Area 51 do not seem synonymous," Daniel replied and watched his words sink in as Jack nodded before speaking himself.

"I know the attacks were directed at you and Carter and probably Mitchell too - you know how ... peeved I am about that but ...," Jack hesitated before continuing, "this is beginning to feel too much like manipulation ... on a grand scale. It might be the IOA or the Trust or some other delusional organisation thinking they can gain a foothold in this galaxy. I'm not sure the broader motive even matters right now."

Jack looked at his friend intently, meeting the other man's eyes as he offered his own conclusion. "After yesterday’s incident I'm going with my gut on this one Daniel - it's telling me that Sheppard and Weir are clean ... beyond acting like a couple of school kids with their first crush."

Daniel thought of himself and Sam's recent behavior and chuckled softly, "But someone knows how to take advantage of that ... and for what it's worth ... don't make me ever say this again ... I'd trust your gut feeling over most anyone else's facts."

Jack grinned at Daniel's admission ... the genuine, deep down kind he rarely offered even those closest to him. "Why thank you Daniel."

"So what do we do?" Daniel continued. "More importantly, where do you need me publicly on this? These incidents are serious and could escalate. None of them has caused a death ... well ... mine briefly but what's new there ... they easily could have, even unintentionally. So far ... all of us have been lucky."

"I'm not entirely convinced on that either," Jack admitted. "If those behind this really wanted to take one of you out they would have ... no one is that incompetent. You guys haven't been lucky - you were unlucky Daniel. Your drowning was a mistake - something that went further than it should have."

"I'll concede that probability. After all, it was very unlikely that the recipients of the notes would actually arrive at the same time...and Sheppard was there too...wonder if he got a note as well? If that's the case it definitely looks like whoever designed the drowning hedged their bets that whoever was trapped would be saved. When you step back and look at the big picture ... the other incidents...except for the exploding console that took out McKay ... don't seem designed to kill. My understanding on the Janus' Lab incident, though, is that anyone in front of that console would likely be in for a long hospitalization if not dead. Of course that may ... or may not ... have been aimed at me. I use that particular console the most ... but not exclusively," Daniel stated, airing his thoughts aloud more than trying to come to a definite conclusion.

"I take it you didn't leave your console on either," Jack commented. "Would your location during the morning and while that was going on have been common knowledge?"

"I never leave that console on or my private lab's workstation either. Security risk for one ... and McKay gets apoplectic," Daniel stated positively, "add to that, since my status change and permanent reassignment, the Janus' Project has gone on the back-burner. I spend what time I can on it, but not daily." Jackson stopped and sipped his coffee, "As for my location ... my routine normally takes me to my private lab first so yes ... that could be known. Anyone that could access the tracking system and key in on my subcu-locator could track me ... I guess."

"I'd say our culprit is just the type who could do that," Jack returned. "So yes, that console exploding could have resulted in serious injuries or worse but again it was a calculated risk. Who actually sits down to turn off someone else's work station? McKay is always in a hurry ... he wouldn't."

Nodding his agreement, Daniel said thoughtfully, "And it was definitely fifty-fifty that I would be there or even when."

"The underwater lab didn't go as planned. If they made one mistake maybe we can force another," Jack proposed. "For now, on the public front I need you to behave as though you believe the truth we're being led to - that Sheppard and Weir are behind this even though we don't understand exactly why yet."

Daniel nodded his understanding and agreement, "I'll play along up to a point or maybe set the stage for me to be more swayed by the events. But, you know me ... it's my nature to look at all sides and try to believe the best of my friends first. It would be out of character for me to have a whole-hearted acceptance of John and Elizabeth's guilt. If I'm a shade more neutral or undecided ... I'm also more approachable."

"Whatever you think Daniel," Jack agreed. "Just don't come out declaring them innocent." Pinning Daniel with a stern look, Jack added "and don't start poking around on your own. Let me handle it."

Daniel widened his eyes innocently, "Me? Investigate on my own ... please ... I'm no gumshoe." He slouched back into the easy chair before asking, "I was on the ship where we found FRAN and rescued Elizabeth ... why aren't I a suspect?"

"If you're offended I can always pencil your name in under Carter's," Jack grumbled, irritated suddenly. Sitting back in his seat he rubbed a hand through his hair tiredly - sleep hadn't exactly been at a premium since his arrival in the city. "I don't know Daniel ... I was thinking the almost drowning thing kind of gave you a permanent 'get out of jail free' card."

Chuckling at Jack's response, Daniel's eyes narrowed a bit as he looked at his friend. Leaning forward, he said what he hoped the older man knew, "I know why I'm not a suspect. You don't have to do this alone. Just as always, I ... and SG-1 ... has your back."

"I know that Daniel," Jack shifted, uncomfortable as usual with declarations like that. "And I appreciate it. For now SG-1 has to appear to remain 'the targets' - at least as far as everyone else is concerned." Sitting forward again Jack used his 'General O'Neill' order voice with grim purpose. "Band together Daniel ... watch each others backs ... and don't trust anyone."

Daniel took that as a dismissal and rose to his feet deciding he would collect the coffee carafes later as he was sure he and Jack would be frequently meeting just so he could be a sounding board. "Don't worry, Jack. For once ... I'm recognizing a squirly situation."

"Squirly huh?" Jack's mind flashed back immediately to Daniel's extended 'visit' with the Rand Protectorate. "Glad to hear it Daniel." Watching his friend walk towards the door, Jack waited a few moments before speaking again. "Hey," gesturing vaguely to the table and their discarded mugs Jack nodded. "Thanks." The other man nodded and Jack knew Daniel had understood the thanks wasn't just for the breakfast.

Alone again, the General sat for a time thinking about all the unanswered questions before rousing himself. He had an SG-1 meeting to get to.

Friday 3rd April | 0900 hours | Conference Room

General Jack O'Neill wasn't known as the most patient of men ... this usually translated into him being amongst the last to arrive for anything, especially meetings.

This time Jack felt it prudent to be there when his team arrived ... he'd never actually served as the CO after Colonel Mitchell took over command of SG-1 but he'd had command of the SGC for Cam's first year and instinctively included the other man under the label of 'team'.

Jack had two reasons for having Carter call the meeting. Apart from conversations at the site of incidents and his breakfast chat with Daniel, Jack had yet to sit down and talk to any of them. He needed to know how they were taking being targets for their attacker ... what their thoughts were on the motivations and hopefully speedy capture of the culprits.

The other reason for the meeting was a little less obvious ... O'Neill had made it a closed meeting deliberately and made sure the Atlantis crew knew about it because he wanted to shake things up a bit ... get everyone talking again and hopefully force a mistake from the person responsible for the current state of affairs in the city. He'd ordered Lorne and Sterling to keep their eyes and ears open in the city ... it a slip up did occur, hopefully one of them would witness it.

Tapping his fingers impatiently on the table Jack had about decided to test out the swivelling capability of the Atlantis conference room chairs when the first invitee arrived.

Cam walked in, his blue eyes searching the room quickly and grinning slightly as General O'Neill swirled around in the chairs. "Sir, reporting as ordered," he said, announcing his presence and taking a seat.

"Morning, Mitchell," Jack replied, stopping his moving chair abruptly to glance at Cam assessingly. "How're the hands?"

Cam gave him a grin and held up his bandaged hands. "They hurt, Sir. But could be worse."

"It could have been much worse," Jack agreed seriously. "You could have been sitting in that chair when it ejected." He made a vague gesture reminiscent of the chairs flight through the air before slapping his palm down sharply on the table. "Cadman and Lorne delivered all the bomb ... bits to the lab late last night," looking up at Cam again, Jack offered up the possibility of retribution. "With any luck Captain Sterling will find something incriminating."

Cam's face went serious, having been trying to play off the seriousness of the situation. Trying to show that it wasn't going to get him down, but the General was right. He looked at the table as O'Neill slammed his hand down and nodded. He could've been, but he wasn't. Cam looked up at him. "I hope so. I'd like to get the bastard who did this, Sir."

"We will," O'Neill replied grimly. "Them and whoever they work for because you can bet this isn't some lone gunman behind the controls." Jack could have said more but for a noise at the door announcing another arrival.

Daniel slipped quietly into the conference room and found a seat to Jack's right giving him a brief nod before turning serious blue eyes to the other man. Nodding with a frown at Cameron, "Mitchell." The older man cast a glance at Cameron's bandaged hands, "Sam told me what happened. You doing okay? Need anything?"

Cam looked up at Daniel and gave him a sheepish look. "Um ... I know it's a pain to ask, but could you get me a glass of water? Pouring the pitcher is an exercise in torture that I could live without today," he told him, feeling a little embarrassed to ask. "I'm okay though. Luckily, it wasn't worse and didn't involve an extended infirmary visit," Cam told him.

Daniel nodded in understanding and sympathy reaching for the water pitcher and pouring the glass not quite full so the weight or spillage would not be an issue for the younger man. "Not a pain, Cameron. If you can't ask an old teammate for a glass of water...then who can you ask for anything?" His response was sincere although it carried a gentle, humorous gibe at Mitchell for being embarrassed over a situation he could not help. "Glad to hear your injuries were not as serious as they could have been."

Cam smiled, gladly taking the glass and carefully holding it with his fingers and taking a drink. "Thanks, Man," he said sincerely. "Me too. We got lucky, again," Cam said referring to Daniel's own luck in not drowning.

"We'll wait until Carter gets here before I explain the method in my madness," O'Neill said. Seeing the other two men looking at him with varying degrees of skepticism Jack put on an affronted look. "What? You don't think I'm just making this up as I go along do you?"

Daniel put on his usual wide blue-eyed look of innocence, most often used to deal with Jackisms, and stated solemnly, "Of course I know you're right on top of it all ... definitely."

Cam ducked his head. "I plead the fifth, Sir," he said, trying not to show his amusement.

Sam strolled into the room on the heels of that exchange. "I for one am mostly confident that you're making it up as you go along, Sir." She sat her coffee mug and notebook PC on the table in front of her usual spot before taking a seat. "But I say it with the utmost amount of respect, Sir." Her eyes twinkled at him, but even that was underscored by the very serious cloud hanging over their heads.

"Well that makes it all better Carter," Jack quipped, not bothered they all thought he didn't have a grand plan ... too many missions with SG-1 where he'd scrapped through on the seat of his pants to argue otherwise. As it happened he did have a plan ... of sorts ... dependent on too many factors to make an easy explanation even worthwhile. "You know ... being 'The Man' might have mellowed me ... just a little."

"Mellow sir?" Carter smiled at him. "Yes, of course it did." Her eyes were sparkling again.

"So ... anyone got an idea for a team ... thing?" Jack asked like there was nothing more important in his world than the answer to that question. "I haven't been off world in the Pegasus galaxy yet - I'm thinking beach ... sun ... friendly natives ... and of course no Wraith."

Cam looked at him, figuring this was the General's style ... and kinda excited to be seeing it firsthand. "Not my galaxy, Sir. I haven't gotten to see much of the hotspots. But I like the no Wraith idea. Wouldn't mind seeing a lot of hot, friendly natives," he said, knowing that they'd be getting into the serious stuff soon.

"You and me both Colonel," Jack quipped with a faint smirk. Raising an eyebrow at the rooms other two occupants, he added a pointed "Well?"

"Well ...," Daniel mused as he considered, "If your real reason for a team thing is to have us all seen together and consolidate the view that SG-1, no matter its official status is still SG-1 and reinforce the appearance that the Us versus Them schism is working ... I'd suggest meeting at Club Thirty-Nine for billiards, nachos and beer. If your reason is a get together just for Old Times' Sake, then ... the beach, one of our quarters ... anything you want to do. We can find a tour guide."

"I can have more than one reason Daniel," Jack returned. "That way we don't have to choose."

"We may want to stay away from the hot natives," Carter told them. "I seem to recall the last time you partook of hot alien natives, there was an incident with nanites, aging, and ... you got married." Her lips curved into a small smirk. "But the beach certainly sounds inviting. Club Thirty-nine would probably be more achievable, at least for the interim. What exactly were you thinking?" Her brows lifted slightly in question.

"Ah, the good old days," Jack said reminiscently. "But ... I didn't partake of anything other than cake Carter ... the rest of it was hardly my fault." Turning to Cameron he cautioned with the customary O'Neill smirk. "Just wait Mitchell ... before too long Carter will be embellishing all your less than flattering moments - if she hasn't already."

"I'm sure she's just been dying for the opportunity, Sir," he said, looking at Sam with a teasing grin.

The Colonel's brows lifted. A look of near total innocence crossed her face. "I wouldn't dream of it," she began. Mischief glinted in her eyes a moment later. With just the four of them gathered as they were, she could almost forget the reason behind it. Almost. "Although, it has to be said. With all of the combined ... shenanigans ... that General O'Neill and even Daniel," she stated, not even allowing him to be immune, "got up to, over the years and the many hundreds of missions we went on together. Nothing quite beats any of them like Colonel Mitchell, handcuffed to a bed, in a seedy motel room. His clothes gone and... calling for help." Her gaze moved around the table before finally landing on Cameron. Her lips curved into a small smirk. "I think I've actually missed Vala. I'm also beginning to think that maybe she should visit."

Cam winced when he caught sight of the twinkle in her eyes... the look of pure, unadulterated innocence that crossed her face. Oh, he knew that one was coming up. He knew it! As she told them about his hotel adventure with Vala, he rolled his eyes. "I don't remember calling for help exactly ... " Cam said, adding some commentary. He smirked at her. "Vala's always welcome. It's your city," Cam said, with a grin.

"You know ... if you keep losing your pants like that Mitchell, people will talk. Still ... I'm not sure Atlantis needs the Mal Doran effect right now," Jack drawled, amused himself at Mitchell's hard to hide embarrassment. "But I'm sure Carter would be happy to issue an invitation once this mess is sorted out ... if that's what you want."

Cam looked at the General with a mock look of being betrayed. But then again, he really hadn't expected him to be on his side. Although it would've been nice. Team leaders after all. Not that Cam ever lead this team anyway... "People already talk, Sir. Jealousy is rough," he said with a smirk. "I wouldn't mind seein- I mean, it's not like I want her specifically. Although it would be nice to have the entire team together again, completely," Cam went serious. "Speaking of the entire team ... This, whatever these attacks are, are pretty specific. Has anyone called home, checked on Vala and Teal'c?"

"Good question Colonel," Jack turned serious abruptly. "Carter, when was the last time you checked in with Vala?"

She leaned back in her seat while she thought about it. "It has been a while," she admitted. "Since before all of this began, definitely. A couple of weeks at the very least."

"It's been a while since I saw the lovely Ms Mal Doran," Jack returned, "longer than that. Visits back to the SGC are ... scarce. I did speak to Teal'c just before I left," Jack revealed. "He's aware of the first few incidents ... had to hold him back from wanting to gate here on the spot. T wasn't happy but ... he should be safe on Chulak for the time being." Jack looked at Sam, considering the options. "Check in with Vala," he finally said. "Make it casual. Just two friends talking girl ... stuff. Warn her if you can do it discretely to be on guard."

Daniel, sitting at ease in the chair across from Jack's desk winced at the mention of Vala. It was not that he disliked her. In fact, he counted her a good and dear friend and held much affection for her. Just not the affections she wanted and in some ways seemed to expect. Daniel was proud of Vala for making such drastic changes in her life and becoming a staunch ally and valued member of the SGC. His affection for her, however, was in the realm of what he always thought he would feel for a younger sibling had he ever had one. It made Vala's constant sexual innuendo and other comments in his presence more than a shade annoying and sometimes just flat uncomfortable provoking him into being a total bastard in return. Still...he didn't want anything to happen to Vala, but he also did not offer to contact her in Sam's place either.

"I'll make a point of contacting her this afternoon," Sam told O'Neill.

"Talking team events and reminiscing about who's done the most embarrassing thing on a mission, while hugely entertaining, isn't why I called this meeting," Jack began, making eye contact with Sam and Mitchell. "I already know what Daniel's thoughts are but I think it would be helpful to hear from you two as well. What do you think is really going on here?"

Carter leaned forward and folded her hands together on the surface of the table. "I think that someone, whether individual or organizational, is attempting to undermine the cohesion of the expedition. In doing so, they're creating a chasm large enough to slide through and begin taking over. I don't think it's the IOA," she told them. "They could remove any one of us without stating a logical reason, they've done it before." She sighed softly. "I think Colonel Sheppard and Dr. Weir are innocent, but unknowing pawns. A means to an end. As long as we're looking at them, we aren't looking at anyone else. At the same time, I do find it odd that John isn't doing more to prove his innocence."

"Maybe it's just that Sheppard doesn't realize how serious this is ... or he is guilty," Cam suggested. "They could be getting controlled. It's not like this would be the first time someone like the Trust or someone else has taken an interest in what's going on here. Or maybe ... he's just gotten so defensive of Atlantis and what it means for him, that he's not seeing friend or foe anymore."

"Doctor Garman has yet to make any conclusions regarding the medical side of this," Jack replied. "I don't think it's a likely explanation ... and personally I don't think either Sheppard or Weir are behind any of this. You're right though Carter ... someone wants very badly for us to think otherwise. If you take this scenario to it's ultimate conclusion you have everyone in this room eliminated and the only other people most likely to take over leadership discredited as being behind it. Leaves the top spot open for ... someone these guys feel is malleable or someone high enough up the order to work at their objectives independently."

Glancing at his watch, O'Neill nodded to himself, looking up again to see the others all watching him. "I think that's long enough," he said simply.

Daniel chuckled as he rose to his feet, "I'll be in my lab if needed." He nodded and made his way towards the door and out to continue his day.

Cam nodded, feeling a bit brushed off. But this was O'Neill's rodeo and he was probably right. Sheppard only seemed guilty. Still ... Cam wasn't completely convinced. "Sir, Sam. I'll be trying to discover what we can do with the Hammond if I'm needed," he said, smiling at them as he set himself up to listen to what Cadman and Sterling would have to say.

"That was surprising," O'Neill commented to the only person still left in the room. When Sam looked at him questioningly, Jack explained. "I thought someone would ask 'long enough for what?' but ...," he trailed off with a shrug.

Carter grinned at him. "I stopped trying to figure out all the twists and turns your mind takes a long time ago, Sir. Better to simply wait and see."

"Funny," Jack replied with a bland expression. "The meeting itself was the objective of the meeting," he explained. "Put people offside, have them wondering what we're talking about in here, why Sheppard isn't included. Either force a mistake or have the culprits feeling arrogant that things are going their way - enough to let something slip."

"People are already offside," she commented. "I suppose at this point it's a better option than just sitting around and waiting to see whether or not there will be another attempt - and if there is, who will be the target?" Carter shook her head. "It's so much easier when we know who to shoot at."

"Indeed," O'Neill replied with feeling. "Right ... time to get back to investigating. Keep your eyes open Carter ... and don't trust anyone."

Jack watched as Sam nodded before turning to leave the room. Tapping his fingers on the table for a few seconds, the General shook himself into action, jumping up and striding from the room.

Friday 3rd April | 1000 hours | Mess Hall

Colonel Sheppard sat at the table all alone. He was enjoying the quiet as much as he could, considering. He had a small plate of fruit in front of him, picking slowly at the grapes and sliding them one at a time into his mouth as he read the book he held in his right hand. It wasn't the larger "heavy reader" of War and Peace that he kept in his room; that one was a personal goal he hoped to accomplish before he was made to leave Atlantis, if he would ever be asked to leave Atlantis. He raised his eyes from the printed words and looked faraway in that thousand yard stare of those who focus their full attention inward.

"Hmm," he grunted lightly to himself and blinked to bring himself back to the present. As his focus returned he glanced at the people at the table one row up and to his left; they were talking softly to each other and the one facing him kept looking over at him. Her companion leaned toward her and then looked over her shoulder at him... John arched a brow at them then tried to focus on the open page again.

He read the same paragraph three times and then jumped a start as a heavy tray dropped onto the table across from him. John lowered the book and looked up startled.

Ronon grinned down at him and then threw his leg over the back of the chair and lowered himself into the seat like a cowboy settling into a saddle. "What're you reading?" he asked and grabbed the book to spin its cover toward him. Cocking his head to the side he read the title aloud, "The Atlantis Revelation... by Thomas Greanias.... you're kidding..."

John gave a slight roll of his eyes and put the book down. "It was either that or The Atlantis Legacy."

Ronon gave a facial shrug and dug into his 'light pre-lunch snack', fingers first. "You're never gonna be able to let this place go, are ya'?" he asked around the first taste of grilled pork chops.

John glanced at him as he tucked the book onto the empty seat beside him. "How're you doing through all this?" he asked to change the subject.

Ronon shrugged. "Fine ... but I'm not really being affected by it all either," he told his friend.

John met his eyes only for a moment and then focused on his fruit plate again as he shrugged off the comment. "Yeah, it must be tough for them. Being targeted like that."

"What about you?" Ronon asked. He'd noted that Sheppard had been a bit subdued for a few weeks now. Since Dr. Weir's return ... and now with all this sabotage going on and the appearance of so many others who, in essence, seemed to be taking over the investigation, and the city in the process.

"Me? I'm okay. Concerned, but I'm fine," John told him.

Ronon stared at him with a wry look. Sheppard sucked so bad at lying. "Uh huh," Ronon grunted out.

"What."

"You're fine ...," Ronon repeated in "that" tone.

"Yeah. I said I'm fine. I'm fine," John repeated a bit more forcefully than he wanted but Ronon was the only one aware of it. "Worried about Rodney but Keller says he'll be fine too."

"Yeah, that was a surprise, huh?" Ronon mentioned, relaying his own shock to hear what had happened.

"Yeah. Ya' know... if he had just left when I told him to ...," John trailed off and shook his head.

"Yeah," Ronon nodded, not adding to the comment, just waiting and leaving the floor open - just in case.

"He never listens to me," John said definitively with a feigned smugness. Then he sobered a bit as the image of Rodney writhing on the ground came back to him. The shock and awe of the explosion, the room clearing about the same time his brain did, calling for Rodney and moving through the thick black smoke to search for his friend... finding him bloodied on the floor.

"You okay?" Ronon asked softly and John looked at him. He watched as John took a deep breath and thought about it for a moment before nodding.

"Yeah."

"So how come you're not in that meeting of the minds?" Ronon asked his team leader, referring to the meeting in the conference room where the members of the SG-1 team were sequestered and discussing the recent events in the city.

"I wasn't invited," John simply answered and his face tensed as he tried to hide the hurt and the bit of anger that hurt conjured up with it.

Movement a few yards away caught his attention as the two techs nearby stood to leave. They both spared him an unusual look and Sheppard's brow furrowed at them. They quickly turned and walked away. Ronon caught the frown and looked over his shoulder at the retreating pair and looked back at Sheppard.

"The rumor mill is active these days," Ronon commented.

"Yeah," John agreed softly.

Other movement caught his attention again and he looked toward the northern section of the winding terrace, to the entrance of the outdoor seating area, to see Teyla smiling and nodding at those who greeted her. He kept his eyes on her as if drilling his gaze into her and hoping she'd continue toward them and choose to sit with them.

Teyla looked John’s way and recognized his expression all too easily after all these years – he wanted to talk but his own inherent sense of honor and, well, stubbornness kept him from asking outright. She sighed, set her features into a calm but friendly smile, and made her way over to the table. She had just come from the infirmary and speaking to Rodney. For days she’d been hearing nothing but rumors and he was able to set her onto the path of the truth. Now, she wished to find more solid footing, and her guide was finally willing to talk, it seemed.

John stood to greet her politely as she approached the empty seat beside Ronon. "Hey, Teyla," as she set down her food and took her seat he sat back down and just looked at her.

Teyla set her own light meal down on the opposite side of the table from John and smiled a greeting to both men. “Good morning,” she said as she opened her orange juice, and as she took a sip she met John’s eyes. She decided he would have to make the first step and lifted one eyebrow faintly.

"How you doing?" John asked, trying to sound nonchalant as he sat back in his chair trying to look relaxed as he draped his arm over the seat beside him. Suddenly his eyes flashed and he sat forward again, leaning toward his teammates. "What have you guys heard? This is driving me crazy ... I should be IN that meeting! I'm the military commander of this base, for cryin' out loud."

Teyla sat her drink down. "Personally, I have heard very little but rumor. The command staff has apparently decided I do not need to know the details."

John blinked at that. "I am part of the command staff and I have not decided that."

She picked at her salad. "Rodney filled me in this morning, and even he does not know the whole story." She kept her words and expression as calm and neutral as possible, but inside she was roiling.

"Well what parts does he know?" John asked. He looked at her intensely as Ronon waited too, looking to her, then Sheppard frowned at her schooled manner. "Or what does he think he knows??"

Teyla set her fork down and carefully rested her arms between the tray and herself. When she spoke, her words were soft, and it was an effort to keep the anger from her voice. “He knows that a saboteur is loose in Atlantis and setting everyone at each other’s throats. And from the current evidence, the attacks are escalating into something more than just fuel for more suspicion and tension.” She had to stop and take a deep breath. “I do not like it when my … family is threatened, especially when I am kept in the dark and have to rely on gossip.” She lifted one hand briefly and gestured at the city around them. “This is a small community – words, whether they are true or not, travel quickly. And I watch, I listen – a good leader should.”

"Yeah," Ronon nodded in agreement with Teyla and then looked to John. "We're hearing more from the rumor mill than from you."

Sheppard blinked at Ronon and then looked at Teyla to see if that's what she was saying.

"And now the latest rumors are saying you are somehow directly involved.” Teyla kept her gaze locked on John. “What is going on, John?” She was horrified that for a moment her voice nearly broke, and took another calming breath.

"Well I've been involved to the point that I've walked in on a few of the incidents. I had to investigate the balcony with Sam, luckily Cadman wasn't injured more seriously. The thing in the sub-levels with Daniel and Sam ... I didn't even know they were down there. I got a note from Elizabeth asking me to meet her down there ... privately. It didn't say why ... when I got there, I found the medical team resuscitating Dr. Jackson. Colonel Mitchell invited me onboard the Hammond to show off his new command ... great ship ... and then someone planted a bomb there? It wasn't me! And what about Rodney! I would never hurt, Rodney ... or chance putting him in harm's way. I didn't hurt Rodney ... and he wouldn't have been hurt if he had done as I asked and left with me, but noooo."

“You have not been yourself lately," Teyla said. "We have all noticed, and it troubles me that you have not spoken with your team about what is going on.” Getting those words out was much more difficult than she expected, though Rodney had no problem expressing the exact same thing to her only a short time ago. She suspected the pain killers helped him with that. She just had her own surprising anger at the situation, and that was never a proper motivator for words.

John frowned at her, confused. "What is going on?" he asked and looked to Ronon too.

Ronon just looked back with a look of patient anticipation as if he agreed with what Teyla was saying and waiting for an explanation.

"What are you talking about? I haven't been myself? Who have I been?" he asked with a bit of that high pitch to his voice that he gets when stunned or defensive.

“To say you have been distracted lately is an understatement,” Teyla replied. She glanced at Ronon briefly and saw his faint nod, and that gave her the strength to say her next words. “Since Elizabeth’s return – and please, do not take this the wrong way, we are all overjoyed she is truly back with us – we only seem to see you when it is mission related business. You have entirely changed your routine, and when these incidents started ….” Now a troubled frown did shadow her features. “We would have been the first ones you’d have come to to sound things out.”

John sat there listening to every word with a frown of consternation on his face. He looked between his two friends to see that Ronon did seem to agree with Teyla without question.

"So I take it that I've been a little pre-occupied with 'Lizabeth's return..." he said and he was about to make an excuse for that and then realized he shouldn't have to. He'd spent two years praying he'd find her again, alive... he spent two years searching and keeping his eyes and ears open for any clue where she might be and he vowed to himself and her every night when he lay down for sleep that sometimes came with great effort, that he would find her and bring her home. He would leave no one behind, if he could at all do anything about it. "I would've done the same for any one of you," he told them. "I guess, maybe, I'm just... afraid... that if I turn away too long she'll vanish again." He felt like a jerk saying that but it was the truth, he was afraid to keep his eyes off of her for too long for fear that someone would come in the night and take her away.

Teyla felt like someone had squeezed her heart – she felt horrible now that she had brought up Elizabeth’s name. John was a private man, and she could tell that his confession was one of the most difficult things he’d ever done. And it was an admission that almost hurt her as much as it seemed to hurt him. She was glad Ronon picked up the conversation, because at the moment she didn’t think she could trust her voice. She felt both ashamed and angry that, and for a moment, she actually felt … jealous. Now, she just felt tired.

"That's not a healthy regiment you've got going there," Ronon told him. He understood, but John's obsession with keeping her safe was not healthy for him at all. He'd have to see that sooner or later. "Is that why you've been seen sneaking around the crew quarters late at night?" Ronon realized suddenly.

John stared at him for a moment then glanced at Teyla before lowering his gaze and nodding. "Yeah... I have trouble sleeping and I know she does too. I can't always get time with her to really... talk... during the day with my duties and her meetings so I like to go to her quarters when the City sleeps and just talk into the morning over coffee... There's nothing else going on."

"I didn't say there was," Ronon assured him that it was okay for him to talk to his friends at any hour. "It's just that... she's the only one you've had any time for lately."

John's brow knitted further as he thought about that and then chewed his lip a bit before offering to his friends, "I'm sorry about that. That's one of the reasons I went down to Rodney's lab yesterday to see if he wanted to have lunch. I guess I was a little too late on the uptake, huh. But I didn't think it was that bad."

Teyla had to lower her eyes for a moment, and out of the corner of her eye she saw Ronon’s head swivel briefly her way. “You have changed your routine so much others have noticed and are believing the rumors, John. Even Rodney, and we all know how entirely oblivious he can be to anything that isn’t occurring within a lab. And now with the General and his team coming to investigate … it is not looking good.”

John looked at Teyla as if he'd just tasted something sour. "Rodney believes the rumors? He thinks I --- Rodney thinks I could do these things?" His words were laced with a sad disbelief. How could he have let his friends down so badly that they'd think him capable of... He took a slow deep breath and let it out.

Teyla held up a hand. “No, no – he doesn’t. I meant your absence.” At John’s grimace she smiled as warmly as she could despite her own roiling thoughts. “Do you know it’s been a week since you’ve even stopped by to see Torren?” The words just came out and she hid her sudden discomfort behind a tiny bite of food. “He misses his Uncle John. Rodney and Ronon only know how to rile him up, and it takes hours to get him to nap after their visits.” She kept her eyes on her meal.

John blinked at her. "A whole week, huh? Didn't realize it'd been that long," he said with an apologetic tone. "So he needs Uncle John to help him get to sleep in the afternoons?" he asked with a slight grin of pride in that fact. He loved his relationship with the young boy and that allowed him to stay close to Teyla too and that only doubled the joy in that. "I can come over today after lunch if you want..." he offered tentatively, hoping he'd still be welcome.

Teyla looked up and was saved from the reply she wanted to say by a new presence at the table.

"Hey." Dr. Jennifer Keller stopped beside the table occupied by the three teammates. "Is this a private party or can anyone join?"

"Hey, Doc... have a seat, if you dare," John offered with a crooked grin.

Keller took the open seat beside Ronon. "So, how are you all doing?"

”Hello, Jennifer,” Teyla offered with a genuine smile. Even though she was in the infirmary a short time ago, she didn’t get the chance to talk to the doctor. “I am well – my ears are still ringing from my visit with Rodney.”

Ronon nodded at her with a wry grin. "Just fine."

When she gave him a smile and then turned to John, he shrugged and replied, "Doing okay, Doc. How's Rodney?"

"Rodney is..." Keller smiled tiredly. "He's Rodney, what else can I say?" She leaned forward slightly. "He's not a problem, what's driving me insane is having all of my work double checked, like I'm some kind of first year intern. It's not... bad, I suppose, but I'll be glad when all of this is finally over." Her eyes settled on John and their hazel depths took on a concerned look. "You look tired," she observed.

"Mmmm," he nodded lightly with a bit of a smile. "I guess I am," he admitted and then changed the subject without really meaning to but what she said concerned him. "Who's double checking your work with the patients?" he asked with a scowl.

Surprise had her brows lifting. "You don't know?" Keller glanced around the table again before replying. "Dr. Garman. They're reviewing everyone's medical files, especially Dr. Weirs. They're checking to make sure that I haven't made any mistakes or worse... done something to you all that would... make you start doing these things." Jennifer paused for just a moment. "Not to mention the hovering act she did while I was treating Rodney. After we got him to the infirmary," she clarified.

John's expression turned slightly intense at the thought of a total stranger rummaging around through his personal and private medical files. "What do they possibly think could be going on physically with us to make us do these things?" he asked in near disgust. "Elizabeth was cleared, even the IOA back on Earth cleared her before allowing her to come back here," Sheppard reminded them matter-of-factly. "Seems to me these investigators are just looking for a way to pin this on us."

Ronon considered John's reaction for a moment and then offered carefully, "That sounds a bit... paranoid... don'tcha think?"

"I think we have a right to be by now, don't you?" John pointed out, then scrubbed his hand through his hair and shook his head. He turned his head to look over his shoulder at Lorne and Cadman a few tables away, sitting in a manner that allowed them to watch him without being too obvious except it was obvious as they were sitting on the same side of the table facing outward. Unless they were secretly holding hands under the table, John figured they were "observing" the others in the room.

"I think it has as much to do with whether or not you've been biologically altered as with whether or not they're really watching you," Keller pointed out. "Although, in a way I suppose that's a good thing right?" She was trying to be optimistic, despite her own frustration with the situation. "If there's a medical reason behind it, it's not really they're fault. Whoever is doing this. Right? At least we know one thing for certain. It's not Rodney. Borderline megalomaniac he might be, but he's not going to put himself in danger, no matter the agenda," she said, attempting to lighten the mood. Even if she didn't really feel very light at the moment. Keller sighed again.

“That is quite true,” Teyla added with a thoughtful nod.

"No, I don't see Rodney trying to blow himself up, he goes to the infirmary whining incessantly about a splinter," John commented as he popped another grape into his mouth. "What do you mean 'biologically altered'? They thinking Goa'uld here or Replicator??"

"I couldn't say for sure," Keller told him. "At this point, I don't think they're leaving anything to chance. Replicator, Goa'uld, any other mind altering device or drug. What I can't help but think is that this would go a lot faster if they'd just allow us to help." The whole idea that any of them at the table could be involved was preposterous to her way of thinking.

"Replicators," John said plainly, suddenly. His gaze was in that thousand yard stare again, but only briefly as his memory rewound to the not so distant past. He blinked and refocused on the people at his table. He looked at each of them, sparing each one a few seconds as they looked back at him, then he tossed a glance over his shoulder at Lorne and Cadman before turning back and lowering his voice.

"Doesn't this seem like deja vu to you guys? Remember what those... those... other... duplicate, replicator... uses..." he fumbled the first part and then opted to just gesture in a circle at the four of them. "Remember when we met the Replicator Weir... and her team? Us? We sent a whole detailed report back to the SGC about that.

"That's why they demanded 'Lizabeth be sent back to Earth for a microscopic look-see before letting her come back here." Sheppard jutted out his chin and his eyes narrowed with a sudden thought as a few things seemed to suddenly click in his brain. "What if they're thinking we're not really us. We all went to that ship and found the Replicator FRAN... maybe they're thinking we're infected with nanites or... or.. they think we are replicators. We didn't even know that we were replicators the other time, we thought - they thought they were really us. Remember?"

"Yeah, but we know we're not Replicators. I know I'm not," Ronon told him in a low gravelly voice. Sheppard gave him an odd grin and shook his head.

"Uh uh, see?" John shook his head with a crooked grin. "The other you was sure he was you too. So if you're him, then you'd think you were you even though you're not." John stopped and scrunched his face up as he wondered if he just walked over himself. Shaking himself from that eerie thought he looked to Teyla and Keller for their opinions. "What do you think?"

"That doesn't make sense," Ronon said. "Then they'd suspect Daniel and Lorne too..." he pointed out.

"True... maybe," Sheppard conceded that could be the case. "But how would we know?"

"Well, Rodney's hurt. Didn't our other selves heal instantly? That's how they realized they weren't really us?"

"Mmmmm...," Sheppard thought about that then looked to Teyla and Keller again for help. "Well?"

Teyla had been calmly eating her meal and listening and observing, something she had grown very adept at lately. She was the boulder in the river the water simply flowed around, always there, solid and quiet. She reached for her juice. "I believe this is exactly what whoever is behind all of this subterfuge wants." She took a drink. "Not only make everyone question us but ourselves as well." She sat the bottle down. "They are very good. They have turned the entire city into a zavin mound that has been poked with a stick, driven everyone into a frenzy looking for the attacker while it has already moved on."

The doctor's lips pursed. "Rodney isn't a replicator," she told them. "His blood work was clean." She'd checked it herself that morning. "Neither are any of the rest of us. You've all been in the infirmary since then. If you were replicators, I would have known about it. For that matter, how do we know that they aren't the replicators? The same argument could be made against them. That they're doing this simply to be rid of the Atlantis Expedition and use the city for their own means. The fallacy in that argument is equally as strong as the first. None of it makes any sense. What I do know, is that whoever is behind this, must be plenty pleased with themselves right about now. No one is actually working together to figure this out. We're too busy being suspicious of each other."

"Okay, maybe they are replicators. But what about Goa'uld? Did you scan us for snakes in our heads? Or their heads?" John asked, then he frowned a bit and looked at Teyla. "A what mound poked with a stick?"

Teyla let out a soft amused snort at John’s expression. “They are an insect, so long.” She indicated a length about a centimetre long. “They live in large communal mounds, and when angered have been known to swarm and strip a man of their flesh in a matter of your minutes.” She saw Ronon suddenly nod in understanding. “I am sorry – I just don’t believe there is an outside influence that extravagant going on here. I do not know how to express it, but this is far too subtle and delicate of a scheme – one that I think is coming from within, from someone, or someones, who have intimate knowledge of all of us and have been able to predict just exactly how we would react.” She frowned at her own words. “And it is making me very … angry to be manipulated so.” She glanced at everyone. “To see everyone manipulated so.” And perhaps that is why I wasn’t brought into this directly, Teyla thought to herself. They knew I wouldn’t see all the … odd angles the rest of the expedition would. Either that, or they just do not know me that well…. She leaned back in her chair and turned that over in her mind, a thoughtful and definitely angry frown darkening her face.

John gave Teyla his undivided attention until she stopped talking and frowned with her own thoughts. Only then did he turn his attention to Keller.

"It's not the Goa'uld," Keller stated. "I haven't scanned for them, but it just isn't logical," she told John. "Yes, this might be a good place for them to try and regain some of their previous power - if the Wraith weren't already a threat here. It just wouldn't be a wise or successful move for them."

John knitted his brow at her. "Doctor... I think we should cover every corner here. What we believe would be wise or not doesn't normally jive with the bad guys' way of thinking. I think it'd be prudent to be sure and have the evidence to stand on afterward. In my experience, my own beliefs and personal judgment of what would be common sense doesn't stand up well under scrutiny during an investigation. Test for symbiote implants... please."

Jennifer looked at Sheppard with an odd expression, feeling as though that was going to be a lot of work to come out with the negative results she was certain she'd get. But his commanding, yet friendly, don't-make-me-make-it-an-order stare got the better of her and she gave him a reluctant nod. "Okay," she offered, drawing the word out slightly.

"Thanks," he offered then went back to casual conversation with his friends.

Friday, 3rd April | 1015 hours | Mess Hall

Major Lorne wearily made his way through the doors of the Mess Hall, glancing around quickly and registering most of the occupants, including the presence of Colonel Sheppard and his team.

It had been a late night for the Major ... Cadman had taken more time that Lorne would have thought possible to remove from the Hammond everything related to both bombs. They'd delivered everything to General O'Neill's special lab and then gone their separate ways.

While Lorne would have liked to catch up on his sleep the orders he'd received before 0900 hours had both woken him and put paid to thoughts of staying in bed. The General had ordered Evan to be out and about during a special meeting of SG-1 he had called for later in the morning. O'Neill hadn't said exactly what he thought might happen, just that he wanted Lorne to observe and report back anything "interesting".

"Interesting," Lorne muttered under his breath, pausing at the serving tables to make himself the biggest mug of coffee he could before turning to suss out the room again.

Colonel Sheppard, Ronon and Teyla were engaged in conversation ... not interesting in itself since they were often seen sitting together but the intense expression on Teyla's face coupled with the defensive look on John's wasn't usual.

Choosing a spot far enough away to not look intrusive but still close enough to observe - not just Sheppard but the whole room - Evan slouched low in his chair and took a sip of his coffee.

"Not eating this morning Sir?" Laura Cadman's voice behind him had Lorne glancing up over his shoulder in surprise.

"Not sleeping in this morning Lieutenant?" he replied.

"No Sir," Laura said. "I thought I'd help Captain Sterling analyse the remnants of the chair bomb."

"General O'Neill approved that?" Lorne asked in surprise. Had Cadman been co-opted as part of O'Neill's unofficial team too? When Cadman responded with a firm nod, Evan looked at her assessingly for a moment before nodding in return. "Have a seat Lieutenant," he invited casually.

"Thank you Sir," Laura took the seat adjacent to Lorne, putting her own coffee down on the table and looking around much as Evan had when he'd arrived. "What do you think they're talking about ... Doctor Jackson and the others?"

"Where to have their next team social event," Lorne suggested tongue in cheek. Cadman rolled her eyes but otherwise said nothing, taking his hint that speculating wasn't something Evan wanted to do. Both settled back with their drinks, turning their attention to people watching the Mess Hall.

Lt. Gordon Hunter grinned as he walked into the Mess Hall, humming to himself as he grabbed his breakfast and took a good look around the room, looking for some of his buddies. He found them sitting near Major Lorne and Cadman. He walked past them with a nod. "Sir, Cadman," he said then sat down with some of his buddies.

"Hunter," Lorne returned, nodding to the other man and to the table where his companions sat waiting. Turning back to Cadman, Evan said under his breath. "They know we're watching them."

"Who? Colonel Sheppard?" Cadman shot a quick glance in that direction before looking at the Major. "Not hard Sir," she commented. "It's not like we're trying to hide."

"No one is going to do anything incriminating in public like this," Lorne shook his head in resignation. Shifting in his seat to angle himself away from being on guard and towards actually having a real conversation with his companion, Evan shrugged. "I guess it was a long shot anyway."

"Maybe Sir," Cadman agreed, giving her attention to Lorne as she considered her next words seriously. "Do you think someone is really trying to kill SG-1?"

"No I don't Lieutenant," Lorne replied firmly, keeping his voice low to avoid being overheard. "I'm coming at all of this questioning everything."

"Well, I just hope General O'Neill works it out before relationships get damaged beyond repair Sir," Cadman said softly. "The suspicion ... people talking and then stopping as soon as others enter the room. It's uncomfortable ... not like it should be, here of all places."

"Agreed," Lorne replied. Looking down at the table, Evan appeared lost in his thoughts.

Gordon was steadily getting louder as he and his friends talked over the events that were happening around them. "And that's when the chair blew through the hole in the roof! I couldn't believe that it happened like that!" he said, laughing with his friends.

Lorne broke out of his reverie at the noise coming from the nearby table. Frowning for a moment, he glanced again across at Colonel Sheppard's table, noting that their conversation looked much more usual now. Taking in a large mouthful of coffee, Evan grimaced at the now just barely luke warm temperature.

"Refill?" he offered Cadman as he got to his feet.

"Thank you Sir," Laura held out her empty cup gratefully.

Evan took it and walked unhurried back to the serving tables, again taking note of those present in the Mess Hall that morning.

Radek came weaving in. He looked terrible. His hair was sticking up more wildly than ever and underneath his glasses dark smudges could be seen under his eyes. Though his clothes were clean and looked unslept in -- he didn't look as though he'd slept at all, either.

Without a word, he took his place at the serving tables, not meeting anyone's eyes. He filled his tray with a trembling hand and then raised his eyes to meet Evan's. "Good morning," he said, his voice as tired as his appearance.

"Doc," Lorne glanced at his friend briefly and then gave him a second, longer look. "You okay Radek?" he asked in concern, "because, forgive me for being blunt but, you look like hell."

"That would probably be because I feel like hell," Radek said softly. "I have hardly slept. This is the first time in two days I have eaten."

"What?" Lorne frowned in confusion, turning to face the little scientist in concern. "What the hell have you been doing instead of sleeping and eating?"

"With the meetings, and the explosions, and everything going on -- I have been helping wherever I can. And now that Rodney is injured..." He ran a hand over his forehead. "I have long time to go before I rest. I...." He trailed off into Czech as he shook his head. "I have perhaps taken on too much. But I told Colonel Carter of the sight in the hallway---" He was speaking so softly, he was barely heard. "And now it is all falling apart and I do not know what to...." He shook his head again.

Lorne glanced around ... it really wasn't the place for the conversation he wanted to have and yet clearly Radek needed help ... or just a non judgemental ear. Quickly making his and Cadman's coffee's, Evan urged Radek to join them at the table. Laura had been taken into General O'Neill's confidence too so anything Radek had to say could be said in front of her.

"Listen Doc," Lorne said in a low tone once they were seated, leaning in to get his point across. "I don't know what you saw ... doesn't matter. If it related to what's been going on around here then you did the right thing reporting it to Colonel Carter. The General won't be able to get to the bottom of this unless he has all the facts."

Cadman sat beside Lorne, concerned for the obviously tired and on edge scientist. At the Major's last statement, she nodded wordlessly in support.

Radek searched their faces, looking for deception. He slumped forward, finally, not finding anything but support and sincerity there. ".....forgive me," he whispered. "It did relate---- and now with the questioning, I....I feel responsible. And with Rodney hurt.... as his second, things fall on my shoulders and...."

He shook his head and lifted a forkful of eggs. Unfortunately, his hand shook so badly it fell back off and he nearly stabbed himself in the mouth.

Lorne was more than concerned as he watched Radek closely. The man was teetering on the edge of collapse if the outward signs were any indicator.

"I'm not suggesting you aren't handling things Radek," Evan began, casting a quick glance at Cadman and seeing worry for Radek all over her face as well. "But right now I'm thinking we should continue this chat in the infirmary ... let the Docs check you over." Getting to his feet, he stood beside his friend waiting for him to comply.

Radek just stared at the Major for a long moment, not quite knowing what to do. Unaware that it was being telegraphed over his face.

At last, he reached up. Tangling a hand in Lorne's sleeve, he tried to tug himself up. Unfortunately, he was still very shaky and weak and ended up falling back into his seat.

"If we want to do that," he said, his voice barely above a whisper, "I fear you are going to have to help me, Major."

"I can do that," Lorne said easily, reaching down and hauling the smaller man up from his seat as gently as he could while still getting the job done. Supporting most of Radek's weight with ease - he was a lot lighter than Evan would have guessed - Lorne paused. "Okay?" he queried.

Radek could do nothing more than nod once but that was enough for Evan.

"Lieutenant, report to General O'Neill's lab when you're done here," he said, meeting Cadman's eyes and seeing that she understood what he really wanted ... for her to give the General the heads up on Radek's condition.

"Yes Sir," she acknowledged the spoken and unspoken orders with a confident nod.

"Come on then Doc," Lorne set an easy pace away from the table, not quite carrying Radek but pretty close.

Their progress from the Mess Hall was slow and drew the eye of more than one person. Most seemed concerned but Lorne noticed more than one face ... mostly the 'new' SGC staff ... appeared almost happy that one of Atlantis's original team was clearly in distress. The 'us' and 'them' strategy seemed to be working a treat ... Lorne only hoped General O'Neill knew what he was doing.

A few minutes later Lorne escorted Radek to an empty bed, urging him to lie down while Evan went to get him some medical attention. Explaining that situation as he saw it to the doctor on duty, Lorne then walked back via Radek's bed, assured the other man he'd check in on him later, and took his leave.

The investigation had already had unexpected consequences ... Radek's apparent exhaustion another to be added to the list. Major Lorne hoped there'd be no more, ignoring the instinct inside that said they wouldn't be quite that lucky.

Friday 3rd April | 1100 hours | Special Investigations Lab interview room

General Jack O'Neill sat in the interview room, taking a very short break as he waited for his interviewee to arrive. The day had been busy already and he'd yet to find a chance to sit down with his investigative team for an update on their progress.

Now however was the first of what was probably going to be a series of difficult discussions. When Elizabeth appeared in the doorway precisely on time, Jack acknowledged her presence but kept it on the sterner side of friendly.

"Doctor Weir," he said, getting up and motioning her to take the seat across from him.

Elizabeth had stood around the corner from the doorway for some time before advancing. Her stomach was in knots, a sensation she had long learned to keep at bay. Yet every once and again they seemed to tickle her. She couldn't help but feel slightly weary of this event. She had ears and eyes just like everyone else. She also knew how command worked.

She was a prime suspect. Were she in their shoes she would declare that as well, even if only internally. But she had to believe that what she knew to be the truth was indeed just that: the truth. Taking a deep breath she walked towards the door and the waiting man.

"General O'Neill." She said with a polite nod her posture rigid, official. She wasn't about to back down on herself. She had done that too many times as it was.

"Have a seat," the General invited, retaking his own chair. Once Elizabeth seemed comfortable enough under the circumstances Jack looked at her thoughtfully. "You've been conspicuously absent lately Elizabeth ... just busy or avoiding ... things?"

"Well, General." She said as she sat down shifting slightly. She didn't bat an eyelash, but the emptiness created by the strict formality where once there had been seeds of friendship made her recoil internally. "Settling into a new position, let alone one that refines a system is a time consuming task for any let alone the figurehead." She didn't have to add you of all people should know. but it was implied.

"I wasn't allowed access to mission reports and updates while I was at the SGC." being held captive her mind added. " I've been trying to get myself and my team organized and my people back on track and adjusted. Dr. Mahanay's been a wonderful help. But we were just getting our feet planted on the ground when recent events began to occur."

"I'm afraid it's been a little more panic control since then." She said with a bit of sadness and frustration leaking out. It was a sympathetic one to the people she was working with. "I'm sure this isn't easy for anyone. They've had to accommodate for so much lately.

Jack listened intently, regretting the edge of hurt and sadness clearly evident in Doctor Weirs voice, hating that any of this was necessary.

"And the sabotage? The attacks on SG-1?" Jack asked pointedly. "Are they talking about that as well?"

Elizabeth cocked her head slightly, quizzically, as if he had just asked the most absurd question she had ever been faced with. Leaning back in her chair she folded her hands. For once in her life she noted how bizarre and ridiculous every little thing seemed to be. Normally she pushed back such thoughts.

"General, people they know and love are being put in danger. Many of our staff served at the SGC before coming here and knew of SG-1 and their accomplishments personally. Of course they've spoken of it. They hold the same fears we do and then some."

"If you're asking specifically what they're talking about, I honestly try not to listen too much. Most of it is just worry about who is doing it. They suspect those they may not get along with. They talk of the entire staff. They talk about me." She added last, with honesty. There was no need to skate around the matter.

"Your own staff have doubts about you?" Jack raised an eyebrow in surprise. His gut was telling him this was something worth following up. "Are we talking all of them or just a few?"

"Not all, no." She shifted in her seat. "Fear breeds suspicion. And, if I may be blunt, the senior staff of this mission also turned towards me fairly quickly. Though some suggested that I may not be aware of my actions - something I find difficult to believe. I've fought with what wasn't real, with not being myself, for a very long time, General. I would know the difference." She didn't dare add I hope. "If those who know me best can come to this conclusion is it so farfetched that others may come to the same ends? It doesn't necessarily make the thoughts valid."

"Did the senior staff really turn towards you?" Jack frowned. "How soon after the first incident did that occur?"

"They expressed their suspicions," Elizabeth admitted. "As they should. As I said, it's a reasonable concern to have given our history with the replicators and other forms. Some also expressed that they hoped it was an invalid conclusion to come to."

"Who was first amongst your staff to express doubts Elizabeth?" Jack made his tone gentler, seeking to remind the diplomat of the genuine friendship they'd been building before the Replicators had attacked the city so long ago now. "I know it's uncomfortable but I need you to name names."

"Acklin seemed to express some concern over my arrival dividing the department, how he didn't think it was a smart move; that there were separate motives for it. Richardson and Morley haven't been willing to communicate with me at all since the incidents began." Elizabeth admitted with some reluctance.

"But there has also been great support for me. Dr. Mahanay has been very kind. She was one of the first to speak in my defence." She added. "I believe her word will help convince others that I'm not the hidden monster they may believe I am."

Jack took note of the names, listening intently as Elizabeth spoke, both to what she said and to how she felt saying it. Something in her statement about Doctor Mahanay made an impression ... Elizabeth had been surprised by the other woman's early support. Rather than persist with Weir, O'Neill decided it'd be better to talk to Doctor Mahanay himself.

"Have you and Colonel Sheppard talked about what's been going on?" Jack asked, genuinely curious to hear her answer.

"I haven't had much time to speak to anyone within this chaos," Elizabeth admitted. "Besides, it might be best if I kept a little space from the Colonel, wouldn't it, sir?" she asked.

"Not necessarily," Jack returned lightly. "Bit like closing the barn door after the horses have escaped ... keeping your distance now won't stop people from writing this story with the two of you collaborating."

Elizabeth smiled at his words. He really did have a point. Still, it worried her. Nothing ever turned out to be as simple as it seemed. She was completely aware of the suspicion that had fallen on John because of her. It twisted her heart in a way she didn't care to think about. All she knew was he didn't deserve it. It was her fault. She had let him in too close, too quickly. And now he was paying dearly for it.

"You hold yourself responsible?" Jack asked curiously.

She looked up quickly. Were her thoughts so transparent? Clearly they were if Jack were picking up on them so easily.

"Partially," Dr Weir admitted. "I know my return to this community is under awkward terms. Many people have compromised themselves when they worked to get me back here. If I'm to be brought under suspicion, so will that. It's unjust," she said honestly.

"Forgive me for being blunt, General. But, it hurts to see a family I helped build suddenly turn on one another because of misfortune and speculation. I can't help but still feel a little responsible for this city. I'm a horrible mother hen like that," Elizabeth tried to jest, feeling a little more comfortable around him.

"I don't think they've turned on each other just yet," O'Neill countered. "Eyeing each other up suspiciously? Sure. But don't underestimate your own people ... given enough time they may pull together. Understandably this is outside of everybody’s comfort zone."

"Suspicion breeds intent," Elizabeth said sadly. She had been in the middle of enough social political struggles to full out wars to see the warning signs and pay them due heed.

"I hope you're right, General. I really do." She knew her ... their ... the ... people were strong. She would never been able to commend a more worthy group. But, even the best fell. Everyone had weaknesses. Unfortunately, for this group, the possibility of weakness was their undoing.

Jack sat back, stretching his legs out and staring down at his feet as though in deep thought. What to ask? He could run through Doctor Weir's alibi for each of the incidents but for sure for at least one of them she'd have something air tight. He did have to show that he was at least considering Elizabeth as the mastermind behind a grand conspiracy to gain the power back on Atlantis.

"You happy being head of Diplomatic Operations?" Jack asked, watching her closely. "Not missing being the final word on almost everything?"

"I haven't had much time with my post, but I'm looking forward to it. Do I miss being the head of the expedition? Yes and no." Elizabeth felt it was important to be honest. Lies, even the bending of truth, often led to misconception.

"I'm sure there will come a time where I will feel uneasy not being able to make a decision," Elizabeth offered. "In some ways, being able to have the say helps you sleep at night. You only have yourself to blame, if you will. Even when you have no control of the outcome, being able to know that you are the one who the pressure was on is somewhat soothing. Not in the way that I wish to control lives. I simply grew used to bearing the entirety of responsibility."

"That being said, I've never had a more difficult position. And the weight that comes with knowing you could be sending people to their deaths, that you could endanger an entire galaxy or two..." Elizabeth settled down with her thoughts. "There are some calls I've made that I still regret. Those that I dream about, wondering how I could have fixed the outcome. That weight, I do not miss."

"However, I do believe that Atlantis is in capable hands. I just feel fortunate to have been able to return to her and her people," Elizabeth's expression grew fond. “She certainly grows on you."

"She certainly does," Jack agreed. He let the moment stand, both of them thinking about the wonder that was Atlantis. "Are you behind all this Elizabeth?" O'Neill finally asked, taking it all to the ultimate point.

"No," Elizabeth said, plainly. "Jack, honestly. Why would I want to destroy the one thing I have? Even if it didn't kill the city this incident is clearly creating confusion and mistrust. And at this rate, it WILL kill people I care about."

"Could I be doing it without my knowledge? I suppose I could, but the SGC worked me ten times over. There was NO trace of replicator remains or activity. While this may not mean anything to you, General, I feel more me then I have in..." she paused, " a very long time."

She didn't add that the nightmares had been creeping back. She didn't add that she barely trust herself. It wasn't because she would breed suspicion, it was because she refused to acknowledge it.

"Let's have Doctor Garman run those tests again," Jack suggested gently. "Just to confirm what we already know. I know its frustrating Elizabeth but it's necessary - you know better than I do that impressions are more important that reality and it will reassure everyone that you've been tested here in Atlantis."

Elizabeth nodded a few times before vocalizing her agreement. She understood what was going on. And she didn't blame him for a bit of it. That couldn't stop her from feeling rather ... frustrated with the entire situation.

"Of course, General. Now, if that is all, I'll head towards the labs. There's a fair amount of work I really need to get back to," she said as she stood. That hadn't been half as bad as she had anticipated.

O'Neill waved a hand towards the door, giving his silent agreement to her ending the interview. Not sure he'd actually achieved anything beyond creating the right impression, Jack reminded himself that for now, that was as important as anything else he could be doing. "One down ... too many to go," he muttered wearily as he got up and left the room.

Friday 3rd April | 1230 hours | Infirmary - Private room

After his visit with Teyla and Ronon, John headed to his quarters for a few minutes of private quiet time to think about what they'd talked about. Then he got to his feet and headed to the infirmary to check on Rodney, since he hadn't seen him since last night.

He walked into the medical bay and looked around. Getting a questioning look from a nurse who gestured toward the back of the infirmary toward a private area, John nodded his thanks and headed that way.

He stopped in the doorway to watch Rodney focused on his lunch tray in front of him. Sheppard put on a friendly grin and stepped forward. "Hey," he greeted his teammate, "How are you doing?" he asked as he stepped up closer to the bed, near Rodney's feet.

Rodney looked up and felt the skin on his face pull as he grimaced – the burn cream helped kill the pain, but it still made it feel like his face was a size too small. “Hey,” he said, then went back to the logistics of trying to eat his blue Jello one handed. His right hand was swathed in a white mitten of bandages and that arm in a sling, and his left …. Well, he’d never been all that coordinated with his left hand when it came to fine stuff, and with the back of his fingers feeling as tight as his face, bending them was so not fun. He’d had to pull the foil lid off with his teeth, and now, after the third time he’d tried to stick his spoon in the cup and knocked it over, he was starting to get pissed. “Okay, that does it.” He dropped the spoon, picked up the cup, and just squeezed the glob out onto his tray. It made his fingers sing, but hell – the pain killers were up to it. He finally got a spoonful in his mouth, and when he looked at Sheppard again, he mumbled out an irritated, “What?”

John just gave him a look and then shook his head. "I didn't say anything but Hey how you doing?" He looked at the blue jello glob and all the bandages and then realized he really didn't know what to say. He just looked at Rodney with a sad expression, remembering what Teyla had said. "Rodney?" he asked. "Are you having doubts about... about my involvement in what's been going on around here?" he asked hesitantly, knowing even if he did, Rodney would be loathe to have to admit it and probably wouldn't so John watched his whole body language to get an idea of McKay's comfort level with him before getting too close.

Rodney froze and blinked a few times as his own anger over his personal situation deflated at his friend’s obviously pained expression. “Um….” Okay, he knew he was still a bit fuzzy about everything and he tried to focus. “Huh? You think I think … well, you were acting kind of weird … but, c’mon, you can’t seriously believe … what?” He shook his head. “No!” He blinked a few times. “Why were you in such a hurry to get me out of there?” he blurted out a second later.

John just looked at Rodney for half a minute silently, letting that entire rollercoaster of emotions and pretence roll right around him. He took a deep breath and then stepped over carefully and rested the tips of his fingers on Rodney's blanketed foot lightly. The touch was careful but it was a reaching out of sorts - touching wasn't really either one's forte' - he tapped his fingers lightly against the toes and simply offered with a brief grin, "I just know how you get. 'Just one minute' can easily turn into fifteen... and we hadn't really had any time to talk or visit in the past weeks and I just thought that maybe, perhaps, you'd like to catch up... I just didn't want to have to stand there for an hour waiting for you to finish. I just figured if I prodded enough you'd drop everything and come along..." He removed his hand from Rodney's foot and shook his head, looking at the floor. "That's all."

Rodney had to blink again, and then a half-assed crooked grin split his face. Judging from how tight his left cheek was, he really hoped that wasn’t literal. “Me, take an hour to shut down? When food’s involved? Hello! Who do you think you’re talking to?” His smile widened, painfully, when Sheppard chuckled. "I'm, uh, fine. Was a quart low...." He glanced at his hands. "...And never been happier that the Ancients designed smart toilets."

John grinned about the smart toilet remark. "I didn't say it'd take an hour to shut down, it'd take an hour to get you to stop working in order to shut down. Something always seems to come up...." realizing what he said, he gestured toward Rodney lying in the bed, "See?"

General O'Neill approached the private section where he'd been told Rodney had been situated after receiving medical attention. Before he got to the door he heard voices echoing from inside ... listening carefully he identified them as the patient himself and one Lt. Colonel Sheppard. Maybe he could have given the two men some time to clear the air between them but hovering in the corridors wasn't Jacks way.

"I see you're feeling better McKay," O'Neill announced as he strode into the room. "Colonel," he acknowledged Rodney's visitor before turning to look at the other man assessingly. "Up for answering a few questions?"

John's smile disappeared and he straightened to attention, his movements became schooled and thought out. "Sir ..." he acknowledged as he took a step back away from the bed.

Rodney felt a tiny spark of his previous irritation returning as he watched Sheppard’s relaxed demeanour from a second ago completely vanish. “Huh, you must be the ‘one more test’ I had to have before they’d discharge me.”

"Rodney," John gave his usual soft warning to behave himself, especially now. "You behave, I'll see you later. General ..." he gave a nod and turned sharply for the door.

"Sheppard," Jack let John get almost out the door before calling him up. "Don't go too far ... we need to have another one of those little chats."

Sheppard's expression tensed even as he tried to give the impression of being calm and relaxed. "Yes, Sir." Then he turned and went out the door and kept walking, unsure of where he was supposed to wait or even if he was to.

Rodney watched John’s ramrod straight back disappear out the door and grimaced – the man only went military when he was pissed about something. And considering this entire situation …. He settled back into his pillows and resisted the urge to try to cross his arms, not that he could at the moment anyway, and before the General could speak he asked the first question himself. “So, what’d your team find in that console?” He thoroughly planned on making Janus’ lab his first stop the minute he was discharged, and he didn’t give a damn if he had to blowtorch his way through a hundred layers of yellow do not cross tape to do it.

"Nothing you need to know about right now McKay," O'Neill returned, unfazed by the other mans somewhat antagonising stance. "Why don't you start by telling me what you think happened."

Rodney lifted his, so he’d been told, pretty much nonexistent eyebrows. “Something suspiciously explodes in probably the most important lab in this entire city and you say it’s ‘nothing I need to know’? If I’d been standing in a different place I’d have had more than just a slit wrist right now!” His rising anger was making his pulse pound and his vision was starting to get a bit sparkly on the edges. “So, yeah, it’s kind of important to me to know what the hell happened.” Rodney suddenly stopped and cocked his head. “Huh, wait -you don’t know what happened yet. I do have some good people who can help with that. Oh, wait – not allowed. My bad.”

"Dr. McKay, if you don't calm yourself, I will administer a sedative." Madison stepped into the room. She was actually there for blood samples. McKay had not yet been tested, and having him as a guest in the infirmary would make it simple to get the vials she needed. When she arrived, it was to find the General already with him. She had been content to wait outside, until she heard his ire rising. "Getting upset really won't help your current condition." While she was there, and Dr. Keller was not, she checked his monitors and IV leads.

Rodney glanced between the two, then grimaced at the tray Dr. Garman had with her. "Why is it when a person has lost a lot of blood they insist on taking more for tests? Huh? Never understood that." He deliberately offered his left arm and glowered at O'Neill.

"If you let go of your prickly wall of hostility for a minute McKay and actually listened this would go a lot faster," O'Neill returned, shifting to allow Doctor Garman space to get her samples. "I didn't say the console exploding wasn't of interest to you ... I said whatever my team has found so far is irrelevant right now. As a scientist you of all people should appreciate that I was trying not to colour your impressions! So let’s start again shall we? What do you think happened in that lab?"

Rodney opened his mouth, ready to snit back, when the doctor snapped the rubber tourniquet a little harder than necessary around his arm. He looked at her, and when she just smiled sweetly at him he closed his mouth. He knew when he was outnumbered. “What do I think happened, huh?” He winced as he felt the little sting of the needle in the crook of his arm. “Hmm, let’s see – the console AJ works at was active when I got there shortly after, oh, eightish – would have been there sooner but I had to check on a pump in the desalinization units that was being sluggish. Figured he stepped out to get coffee or tea or something.”

"AJ?" Jack clarified. "You mean Daniel?"

Rodney just blinked at Jack for a moment as the question momentarily derailed his train of thought. "Um, yeah - Action Jackson." He shook his head. “Anyhow, pissed me off – there are protocols for that lab, and not leaving equipment running is numero uno.” Rodney flinched as Dr. Garman untied the tourniquet. “So, whatever was done to that console was obviously initiated prior to my getting there, and remained inert while it was basically in sleep mode, but my powering it down was the trigger….” He scrunched his face up as his words trailed off in a thoughtful tone, but a second later hissed when the burned skin on his face pulled.

"Does Daniel usually leave his console on like that?" Jack asked curiously, not letting on that he'd already asked Daniel the same question earlier in the day.

"Um, no," Rodney admitted. "Hence the pissing me off part."

"Wait a second." Madison's brow furrowed. "Forgive the interruption, General O'Neill," she said. "But... you walk into what is, as you called it, the most important lab in the city, and you find a console on. There's no real evidence that Dr. Jackson has been there, or that he is returning - and by your own admission just now, he doesn't leave his console unsecured when he isn't present." She inclined her head at Rodney. "So with everything going on in the city right now, it never occurred to you that possibly it wasn't Daniel that turned it on to begin with?" Her attention slid to the General again. "I do apologise for butting in, but..." It had to be asked. Wasn't this guy supposed to be some sort of genius? Self-proclaimed at the very least.

Rodney blinked at the doctor and felt his anger starting to boil again, and with his blood pressure still off from the blood loss, back came the sparklies in the edge of his vision. “Well, excuse me, Doctor, for finding the how-to guide for building my very own D-cell sized ZedPM a whole helluva a lot more interesting and important than taking attendance for a few hours.” If Sheppard were still here, Rodney knew he’d be adding some smart-assed remark about him and his distractions. “And if you had ever spent any time around me, you’d know that when I’m in the zone it would take a nuclear bomb going off … todistractme,” he ended in a rush. And felt vaguely ill. “Huh.”

"Colonel Carter had that lab checked out yesterday McKay," O'Neill pointed out, raising an eyebrow at Doctor Garman and then looking at Rodney pointedly as if to ask if the other man was okay enough for continued questioning. "Specifically for bombs or other suspicious things! You miss that too?"

"Why do you think I wasn’t there at six a.m. like I usually am when on the rare occasion I don’t have other pressing things to do?” He had been given the schedule for that, at least. “Wait. Are you suggesting one of Sam’s people left the console on after their inspection?” He dropped his chin and fixed the General with a look that made underlings scatter in the past.

"No one is suggesting anything at this point," Madison said. "That's the point of an investigation. Cooperation would get all of us a lot farther, Dr. McKay. Hostility isn't doing anything but making matters worse, for everyone." She slipped a BP cuff around his uninjured upper arm and began taking his blood pressure. "If you poke an animal with a stick, all you're going to succeed in doing is making it angry, but if you prod it gently, then it might just move out of the way."

"In case no one’s told you, I’m always like this,” Rodney grumbled back pretty much reflexively. But something she said was getting the old gears moving – it must have been his heart pumping what little was left of his blood through his brain. “You know, cooperation works both ways, so I’ve heard. I would think that since an outside team was brought in on this, it would be keeping an impartial distance from both parties, not just one. Looks rather suspicious when there’s a closed door meeting with the old team, General. Yeah, I heard about that. Everyone in the entire city heard about that.” Rodney leaned forward a bit. “So, you want my cooperation? Quit trying to make one side look more guilty than the other.” A light bulb went off. No, a nova. “Unless you want the real guilty party to screw up.” He settled back into the pillows again because, seriously, the sparklies were getting worse. “So, fine, ask your questions, let’s catch this asshole before they hurt anyone else.” Or blow up any more of my labs, because, really, so not good, he thought.

"So I take it you at least aren't buying into the 'Colonel Sheppard did it' school of thought," Jack commented, ignoring the rest of Rodney's rambling statement. The man was smart ... Jack could only hope he'd be smart enough to work out that everything wasn't as it seemed - including O'Neill's actions themselves. Otherwise he'd be likely to mouth off at the wrong time and make their culprit suspicious ... maybe even forcing them underground. Jack needed to catch them while they were still under the illusion of being safe from scrutiny. "I heard tell that Sheppard was rather forceful in trying to get you to leave the lab before that console blew."

Rodney snorted rather disgustedly and shook his head. “Oh, please – all this cloak and dagger crap? You know that scene in ‘Raiders’, when the crowd parts and there’s the swordsman, being all tough and doing the fancy stuff, and Indy just shoots him? That’d be Sheppard – no muss, no fuss, no sneaky subterfuge, something is a threat, he’d be just be straight forward and blam. Sneaky crap is so not his style.” He closed his eyes to try to force the sparklies away and it seemed to help. As for O’Neill’s second question – yeah, he thought it was strange the way John was acting in the lab, but after getting the whipped puppy look a few minutes before the General showed up …. He just continued his train of thought as he answered, “That was normal, actually. The whining, the eyebrows….” he shrugged, “in the lab.”

O'Neill kept his expression bland as Rodney did what Jack could best describe as 'thinking aloud' ... it was a geek thing, something he'd noticed before that made him personally glad he wasn't a geek.

Then Rodney thought of another conversation he had earlier that morning. “You know, you should talk to Teyla – she doesn’t buy into this crap, either. Everyone here likes her, talks to her, yet also kinda treats her like part of the wallpaper. She’s been watching everything, and let me tell you – she’s not happy.” She had Torren with her when she stopped by, and the kid was really quiet. He’d noticed the boy was a barometer to her feelings and found that really eerie sometimes. He dropped his voice. “And when she’s pissed, she scares me.” Mainly because he knew she could pound his ass into oblivion. And smile so sweetly as she did it.

"I'll add Teyla to my list," O'Neill agreed easily. "I'm sure she'll have a unique perspective ... for now though I'm talking to you McKay. You got anything else ... anything useful to add?"

Rodney grimaced as he tried to remember as clearly as possible the entire nasty incident. He pictured reaching over the console…. “Yeah. The thing snapped when I shut it off. Sounded just like a breaker flipping.”

"But otherwise there was no warning," O'Neill clarified. "You did what you'd always do to turn off someone else’s workstation which is when the console blew."

"Just pushed a button. That was all." He fought a wave of nausea as he thought it was a good thing he reached over the back to do it.

The grimace turned nearly murderous, until Rodney let out a soft ow when the skin on his cheek pulled. He looked up at the General. “I want to see the data on that explosion.” He gave a twitchy shrug. “After your team is done, of course,” he couldn’t help sneering back. His plan to stop by the lab after he got out was still a go.

The General watched Rodney's expression carefully ... at his request to see the data Jack shrugged casually. "Sure McKay ... if you feel the need. I have every confidence in my team to handle it," he pinned Rodney with a stern glare, "and unless invited you'll stay well clear of them. Understood?"

"When my ass about gets blown up, yes, I feel I need it," Rodney grumbled back. "That's slightly more important than the fact that I'm head of sciences and should get a copy." He glanced at the new Doctor, his exhaustion and irritation feeding off one another. "Aren't you done yet?"

Madison raised a single brow at him as her gaze shifted from where she was again checking his vitals to look imperiously down at him. "Dr. McKay, I'm not here to serve at the pleasure of your presence. Feeling badly is no excuse to behave badly." She picked up his chart and began making notes. "I'm ordering another CBC, we'll re-check your Crit. If it's still low, I'll have them hang another unit of O-Neg. I'm also changing your pain medication. Your vitals shouldn't be fluctuating this erratically simply because of the blood loss. We'll see if a milder medication has a better effect. If it does, you can expect to be out of here sometime tomorrow." She finished with his chart and replaced it. "General O'Neill, when you've a moment." She nodded to Jack before taking her leave. She walked out into the main centre of the infirmary to await him, so she could report on what she'd uncovered - or not, so far.

"Tomorrow?" Rodney squeaked at her retreating back. "Crap," muttered and tried to attack his Jello again, left handed. He stabbed it so hard he nearly shot it off the tray.

"Relax McKay or she'll keep you here longer," General O'Neill advised with faint amusement. Leaving the other man to his lunch Jack went to join Doctor Garman.

"You got something?" he asked her hopefully.

"Yes." Madison turned as he approached. "I'd like to examine what's left of the bombs found on the Hammond. The one that was detonated won't do me much good, but I would like to swab the other for evidence. It may not turn anything up, but I'd like to run tests for DNA evidence. If whoever constructed them left behind epithelials or some other trace evidence, maybe it will point us in their direction." She sighed. "The blood tests aren't turning up anything. It's good, for those we're able to remove from the suspect list. At the same time, we're just spinning our wheels. Although, I still haven't tested Colonel Sheppard or Dr. Weir, I hope to be able to take those samples today."

"Go to it Doctor," O'Neill agreed. "We may just find what the culprit wants us to find but ... they have to make a mistake at some point ... you'd think."

Jack stood in the centre of the room for a few moments after Doctor Garman had moved to grab her kit and then hurried out the door. Casting a quick glance at McKay, Jack considered the likelihood that the other man would do what he was told, rated it at zero, and headed to the Janus labs. Time to make sure that no one, including Doctor Rodney McKay, was given access without the General's direct say so.

Friday, 3rd April | 1315 hours | Special Investigations Lab Interview Room

Those in positions of importance in the city might be surprised to see General O'Neill preparing to talk with Doctor Leia Mahanay ahead of others. Jack wasn't sure exactly why he was except that his instincts had been ... tweaked during his discussion with Doctor Weir. When that happened, Jack paid attention - too many times in the past his instincts had led him to the truth. Not that he expected to find that Mahanay was the person running around the city setting bombs and sabotaging systems. But perhaps she knew something without even realising it ... something that Jack would recognise when talking to her.

Dr. Leia Mahanay walked into the room, nodding at the General. "You wanted to see me, Sir?" she asked as he pointed her to a seat. Leia primly sat down, affecting a curious expression towards the man and wondering what was going to happen now.

"I did," Jack stood until she'd sat down and then retook his own seat. "Thank you for coming down. You're relatively new to the city and yet according to Doctor Weir you jumped in almost from the beginning in support of her innocence over these ... accidents. Why is that?"

Leia appreciated his quickness. "Straight to the point, I see. I jumped to Dr. Weir's defence because I've spent a lot of time with the woman ... professionally and privately, getting to know how she works. I felt that she wasn't capable of such things and defended her as I saw was right."

"A lot of time by your own calculations," Jack persisted, "but nowhere near as much as others who apparently were openly doubting her. What makes you so qualified to see what they weren't seeing?"

"I didn't say I wasn't seeing it, Sir. I was merely stating why I defended her. But she's been ... very strange lately. Every Diplomat I've ever served under has always made the necessary efforts, even if they weren't sleeping, were upset, whatever, to look like every piece of themselves were in place ... Dr. Weir hasn't appeared as herself a lot lately," she admitted, frowning.

"So Doctor Weir is behaving ... very strangely ... and yet you still feel she isn't capable of masterminding these events," Jack summarised. "Why is that?"

"You're putting words in my mouth," Dr. Mahanay said. "I defended her because she's never shown any reason for me to doubt her ... until recently. But her behavior as of late ... I just can't be as sure as I once was," Leia said, lowering her eyes. "But if she's guilty ... Why?" she asked, looking at him.

"Good question," Jack returned. "You tell me."

Leia looked at him. "Do you want me to speculate about what my boss could possibly be doing, trying to kill off portions of SG-1?" she asked, kinda confused.

"You're new here," Jack pointed out again. "I'm curious to get a different perspective - from someone who never knew Doctor Weir until after the newly cloned body. I could tell you what I think is going on but ... that wouldn't give me anything new."

Leia gave him a look that suggested that he was quite insane. "Perhaps it's a part of a bigger plan to create Atlantis as its own nation. Kill off people who would most definitely stop her - SG-1 - and take control of the city, depending on Colonel Sheppard and his control over the Marines, especially those from the beginning, to quell any uprisings and become more proactive without the IOA watching every step to rid this galaxy of the Wraith," she said, just off the top of her head.

"You've given that more than a few seconds of thought haven't you?" Jack replied, unsure of what to make of Doctor Mahanay. Everything she'd said was reasonable but that had been one long, neat and entirely too complete speculation to have made with no warning. "If you've thought about that, have you also considered who else might stand to gain from SG-1 being removed?"

"Possibly the IOA ... from what I understand, they're not your biggest fans." she said, wondering what he was wanting. "General, in the time you've come, I've heard about 20 different theories for what's going on ... I personally think that we'll never know what the culprit or the two culprit's true aims are until you, without a doubt, prove who it is," she said.

"The IOA aren't anybody's biggest fans," Jack returned with a slight smirk. He found it interesting that Leia had labelled those behind the attacks as being one or two culprits ... she'd argued for Doctor Weir's innocence but O'Neill wasn't convinced she didn't secretly believe both Elizabeth and Colonel Sheppard were behind the whole thing. No point in asking her though ... Doctor Mahanay had been deliberately careful with all her answers and Jack was pretty sure she'd be the same if he asked her outright about the Colonel.

"Well, thank you for your time Doctor," Jack said instead. "You've been most helpful. I trust that if you do hear anything incriminating you'll bring it straight to me."

Leia stood with a quick nod. "Of course, General. Anything I can do to assist this investigation, I will." she told him and left the room. She stopped outside and gave the hallway a cursory glance before taking off.

General O'Neill sat back thoughtfully, not sure what exactly he'd learned from the interview. Doctor Weir's staff having doubts wasn't exactly a news flash ... his thoughts that maybe Doctor Mahanay had observed something that subconsciously had made her trust Elizabeth hadn't panned out either.

Still, who knew what would turn out to be useful at the end of the day.

Friday 3rd April | 1330 hours | Hallway to the main tower

Colonel Mitchell was deep in thought, having just gotten out of a few meetings with Captain Sterling and Lt. Cadman respectively about the explosive devices on his ship. His crew was 'stranded' until they wrapped this up and even then, they couldn't return to Earth yet. The ship had to be repaired. Hell, they might have to bring in a whole new crew of engineers to fix it! It would have to be rebuilt in some areas. Not more than a few weeks at the helm ... this was a huge black mark on his record. Huge. He walked on, spotting Sheppard hanging around. What the hell was he doing around here? Didn't he have any better places to be? Cam didn't really have much standing in the command structure so it wasn't like he could order him to go somewhere. He walked towards the main tower, trying to figure out how to break this to the crew.

"Sheppard," he said very mildly in greeting, still trying to figure out if he was behind all this or not.

John looked up to see Cameron walking by. He blinked at him and turned in place to watch him as he walked by. "Mitchell," he returned just as warily as his name had been said. "Hey, you got any idea how long it'll be before your ship is repaired and ready to go?" he asked, trying to make conversation although it felt odd.

Cam scoffed, not sure how to take the question. Was the man just not getting all his messages or was he mocking him? He knew that McKay had been almost killed, so maybe he wasn't just being obtuse. "There was a bomb aboard the ship, Sheppard. It'll be at least a few months before she'll fly again and that all depends on how quickly the investigation gets wrapped up," he said, eying him carefully.

"A few months?" John asked and stepped a bit closer. He couldn't imagine having to be forced to ground like that as a pilot. "Man, that must be killing you ..." he said without realizing what he actually said.

Cam looked at him, clenching his fist furiously as he reared back and struck the man. That son of a bitch! He'd been the target of an assassination attempt and Sheppard thought it'd be cute to suggest that it might be killing him?

Sheppard barely had time to react at all, his eyes went wide as he noted Mitchell's expression and his right arm pulling backward - not good. The fist hit him square between the eyes like a sledgehammer and he went flying backward into one of the potted plants that decorated the city's corners throughout all the hallways.

Before he slid to the floor he felt two heavy hands grab his shirt and he was hauled to his feet. John grabbed back, his own CQC training taking over automatically as he turned slightly, sticking his hip into Cam's midsection he threw the other pilot over his right side and onto the floor.

Sheppard stood there for a moment dazed as he still tried to get his vision back as Cam scrambled to his feet and charged John again. His shoulder rammed into Sheppard's abdomen and he drove him backward into the opposite wall, sending a few technicians scrambling out of the area.

His back slammed the wall and he reached down to grip Cam's shoulders and pulled him up straight. He struck out with a windmill punch to the side of Mitchell's jaw that rocked his world for a moment. Cam spun sideways, raising his arm to strike the other officer in the face with his elbow and John slid toward the floor. He was pulled up again halfway to the floor by Mitchell's angry fists gripping his lapel.

"Mitchell!" John shouted out through a bloodied mouth trying to get the man's attention. He struggled to get out of the man's grasp and end the fight but Cam was obviously irate about something.

Cam hit him again, and again, and Sheppard's orientation of his world went upside down. He held onto Cam's shirt to keep his feet until he was able to rile his own sense of self-preservation again. He struck out again, catching Mitchell in the nose and the two men simply pummelled each other over and over.

Ronon came around the corner to see the scuffle. He checked up for only a moment and noted Colonel Mitchell repeatedly striking John and his friend's face was bleeding profusely and he looked ready to collapse. Ronon ran forward and pushed John away, grabbing onto Mitchell he forced him back away from his team leader.

"Enough!" he growled out loudly. Cameron struggled against Ronon's brick wall presence as his anger blinded him to the fact that others were getting involved. "What the hell??" Ronon asked heatedly as he pushed Cam backward as the man gained ground on his friend again.

Cam pushed off the wall, trying to get through the brick wall like Satedan. Sheppard making stupid ass remarks like that... God, he just wanted to keep hitting. He'd never been so pissed off in his life! But Ronon held him firm and Cam kept fighting.

Daniel rounded the corner of the corridor, head down and hands in his pockets as he walked toward his destination, lost in his thoughts about all that had happened. His agile mind was reviewing all facets of the known incidents as he both tried to sort out the whys and what might happen next. The sounds of the scuffle and then Ronon's voice growling out Enough! reached him and alerted him to another incident ... of sorts.

The archaeologist shifted focus as he came into the wider area of the corridor and saw Ronon with a somewhat battered Cameron trying to back the enraged man off an equally battered Sheppard who looked ready to go through the Satedan and after Mitchell.

Ronon was leaning his forearm against Mitchell's chest to pin him and had his other hand held out behind him trying to ward off Sheppard's incoming charge.

"Sheppard, stay back!" Ronon warned him.

Daniel did not stop to think as he surged forward and blocked John's forward momentum. His voice was low as he physically pressed the younger man backwards and out of the fray. John reflexively grabbed onto Daniel's upper arms as he was suddenly pushed backward again. His back hit the wall and he struggled momentarily with the force against him, still his eyes were focused on Cameron.

"Sheppard, stop this, now!" Daniel demanded in a much lower voice than Ronon's but he put every ounce of authority in it that he had built up over more than twelve years in the Stargate program. "This serves no one."

Sheppard could taste his own blood flooding his mouth from a split lower lip, he wasn't sure if it flowed from his nose too but it didn't feel it. His fingers curled into Jackson's shirt material as his adrenaline still pumped heavy through his system keeping him in a fight mode mentality. His body vibrated as if electricity ran through him, days of upset and uncertainty finding its release thanks to Mitchell's trigger response.

The heat of battle still raged in the other man and he seemed on the verge of taking a swing at Daniel. Leaning in to John, Daniel hissed, "Hit me and I'll see you're put in a two by two cell and forced to listen to me reading Ancient limericks until you're dead and if you've ever heard my classroom lecture voice..." Jackson let his voice trail off as he saw both the threat and the humor of the threat starting to sink in.

John's eyes went to Daniel briefly and then as they slid away Sheppard did a double take. He blinked at Dr. Jackson with a confused look, his grey eyes still full of fire. A moment later his cheek flinched as John comprehended what Jackson had just said. He panted for air even as his system slowed and slammed on reverse thrusters. His body suddenly relaxed noticeably under the weight of Jackson's press and he lowered his eyes. His grip loosened on the man's shoulders, but he kept his hands there as he made sure he had his own feet under him before letting go.

Sheppard nodded, a signal that he was in control of himself again, and he shifted to get his feet planted so he could stand up straight. He looked at Daniel up close, grey eyes meeting blue and the two quietly sized each other up. John gave him a firm nod - he was fine - and as Daniel backed off a bit to let him breathe, John raised his hand to his mouth and winced at the open wound there.

"Damn, Mitchell ... what the hell?" he asked calmly, but still a bit shaken by the event with someone he hadn't been really close with but he had always considered the fellow pilot a friend.

Cameron had calmed down slightly, not seeing red anymore but still unable to move due to being pinned against the wall. His nose was bleeding and he wasn't sure, but one of his lips might've been split open. He looked at Sheppard, eyes still narrowed and forced himself to breathe. Cam didn't even know ... but he was just so infuriated ... "It was a personal attack, Sheppard," he said, not moving towards him, holding his hands up to show he wasn't going to pull anything.

John looked at him not comprehending as Ronon stepped back to give Mitchell some breathing space, though he kept alert in case either was thinking of lunging. John blinked, confused.

"The bomb on the ship was personal," Cam half explained, starting to come off the adrenaline high.

Now Sheppard understood. "The bomb was meant for you, specifically?" he asked and when Cam nodded John took a step forward with Daniel standing warily close by. "I didn't know. I'm sorry. Wrong choice of words, huh?" he said, pointing out that he'd have chosen another figure of speech had he known.

Cam took a step forward, getting off the wall but not moving further in case Ronon felt the need to shove him back. He looked at Sheppard and sighed, the anger draining away. "A little, but I should've ... yeah," he said, feeling awkward and starting to hurt. "Sorry. Seriously, man. Shouldn't have hit you," Cam said, apologizing as he sniffed and rubbed his sore nose, glad that at least it hadn't been broken.

John watched him carefully for a moment, assessing any other injuries he may have caused besides the twisted nose. "You okay?" he asked, concerned.

Cam nodded. "I'll be regretting it in a little bit, but yeah, nothing broken. I don't think I ripped my stitches..." he said, lifting up his hands. "You okay?" Cam asked.

Sheppard grinned wryly at him, his split lip pinched between bloodied fingers. "Peachy." John's eyes moved to Daniel as Ronon stepped over to check him out.

He'd already checked Mitchell, having grabbed the man's chin he tilted Cam's head back to check to be sure his nose wasn't busted up. Then he moved to John and pulled his fingers away from his mouth. "That might need stitches."

"I'm fine," John stated.

Daniel glanced from Mitchell to Sheppard. A frown of consternation and concern marred his even features as he thought about the options he had ... which were ... none really. He shook his head and gave a resigned sigh, "I don't like this ...but I have to report this to Colonel Carter."

John looked at him with a pinched expression, knowing there really was no choice in that but still not wanting to get the other man court martialled for striking a fellow officer. Of course he fought back, but that would be expected, wouldn't it? Sheppard nodded, knowing Jackson was right. He'd figure something out later; he certainly wasn't going to press charges.

"Ronon, escort them to the Infirmary ... you guys get checked out. Make sure you're okay ... alright?"

"Yeah," John agreed and stepped away as Ronon gave him a gentle guiding push. As John stepped past Cam he reached out and gestured for him to walk along with him, his hand lightly on the other's back briefly.

The three got the strangest of looks from those they passed by on the way to the transporter and then from there to the infirmary. Dr. Keller's explosive sigh when she saw them made John grin a bit. When she asked what had happened Ronon offered "sparring accident".

The expression on her face as the two officers grinned and gave a shrug was priceless. She never could understand the roughness of boys being boys. Sheppard grinned as he hopped onto a bed to wait his turn as Ronon stood like a sentry nearby with an amused grin on his face.

1430 Hours | Command Centre, Colonel Carter's Office

Daniel made his way resolutely to Sam's office after taking charge and dismissing John and Cameron to report to the Infirmary with Ronon along as their watchdog. The incident bothered him on many levels despite his gut feeling following Jack's. There was a massive amount of manipulation going on ... and people were responding to it.

He paused outside Sam's door taking a moment to just look at her. Like Jack, she looked tired, with new worry lines showing on her delicate features that had not been there a few days ago. The entire situation was weighing heavily on her. This was her command and she was taking the incidents and emotional upsets amongst the personnel very personally. That was to be expected for like everything else Sam did, she tried to run her command based on her experience and no little compassion. The current situation would be demanding that she pay less heed to her compassionate side and follow the chain of evidence and facts ... which put her at odds with friends. It was not an easy spot to be in and Daniel hated to be the one to add to it.

"Sam," he called out softly as he walked in and took a seat across from her. "We've had another incident that I'm sorry to have to report."

The smile that began at seeing him quickly faded. Her eyes dimmed just a little bit more. Colonel Carter leaned back in her seat with a soft sigh. "What is it?" She was almost afraid to ask.

Daniel wanted desperately to reach out and take Sam in his arms and comfort the worry and sorrow away from her. The haunted look in her usually sparkling blue eyes tore him apart and the fact that he was adding to her command burden made it worse. "Sam ... I came upon John and Cam going at it. Well, technically I got there at the tail end of things ... Ronon had already pretty much broken up the fisticuffs. They're both a bit roughed up, but no serious injuries," Daniel hastened to assure her as she frowned. "I sent them to the Infirmary with Ronon as their escort."

"I see." She gave in, for just a moment and reached up to pinch the bridge of her nose. "They were fighting. I suppose I really shouldn't be surprised. This has been coming for a while now. Everyone in the city is on edge, I just expected better of the both of them." Carter gave a nod and rose, pushing herself up behind the desk. "Thank you, Daniel. I'll take this to the General. I'm sure he'll want to speak with both of them." She wasn't in a position to reprimand Colonel Mitchell, although she did intend to have a very strong word with both men.

Daniel rose as well, "I'll go with you. It's likely Jack will call me and Ronon in as witnesses." He trailed Sam out and secured her door behind him as she tapped her comm-link to warn Jack they were on their way down to his office.

1445 Hours | Command Centre, O'Neill's Office

Carter finished making her report and shook her head at the General. "I detest having to bring this to you, Sir, with everything else that is going on right now. Unfortunately, Colonel Mitchell falls outside my ability to reprimand." Sam's hands were folded in her lap and clasped tightly together, the only outward sign of her extreme annoyance at the moment. Although, her tone did leave nothing to be questioned - were Cameron under her command she would be reprimanding both men. As it was, she did intend to smack Mitchell across the back of his head the first chance she got. Gibbssmack, she thought idly, and almost shook her head again at her own musings. She really did need a little more variety in her entertainment. Carter sighed. "In my professional command opinion they should both be ... strung up by their toes and flogged ... Sir."

Daniel prowled Jack's office restlessly as Sam made her report although he listened as he did. He came to a stop finally next to Sam's chair and lay one hand gently on her shoulder before adding his comments, "Tempers are flaring ... everyone is tense. I know we cannot have this kind of behavior out of command staff ... but we need to keep the triggers for this incident in mind as well."

General O'Neill sat back, letting Sam and Daniel both say their piece without commenting. While in some respects he understood the reasons behind the two men coming to blows that didn't excuse them ... nor let Jack off from making a public example of whoever had started it. But did it have to involve John ... again? And when O'Neill still wasn't in a position to even hint that he wasn't a real suspect? That alone had Jack almost growling in frustration.

"Sheppard again," he commented grimly. "At this rate the real culprit won't even have to lift a finger ... Sheppard brought his own hammer and seems hell bent on nailing the coffin lid shut all by himself!" Getting up Jack folded his arms across his chest and gestured to the closed door. "I take it they're waiting out there right now?"

Daniel and Sam both nodded that the miscreants had been summoned and should be waiting.

"And do we know who started it?" Jack asked, not sure he had a preference either way. If Mitchell had instigated the fight then the implications of hitting a subordinate would come into play ... there was pretty much no provocation that could justify that. If Sheppard had thrown the first punch it wasn't much better ... hitting a superior officer, threatening the chain of command ... if Jack took this all the way down the line John would be lucky to get shipped back to McMurdo. Thankfully it was O'Neill's decision how far to push it and right now he wanted to talk to both of them before making any decisions.

Daniel shook his head, "Not for certain, Jack. Both Ronon and I happened on the scene after the first punch was thrown. I suspect the instigator was Mitchell, but I have no proof of that...just basing it on actions and reactions after we had things calmed."

"Okay, let's get them in here," Jack didn't have to work for the stern, and frankly annoyed expression on his face.

As Daniel was already standing, he turned and walked to the door leaving Sam and Jack to provide the united command front while leaving him room to play a more neutral advocate role should it be needed. He paused as the door slid open before stepping out to summon the other three inside.

1445 Hours | Command Centre, O'Neill's Office, Outside

Cam leaned against the wall, glancing over at Sheppard, his ears burning red in embarrassment over his actions. "I owe you one for not pressing charges ... and for covering my ass," he said, his face starting to show the bruising that he'd gotten. If Shep hadn't decided to ... he would've lost his career. His everything. He was probably already going to be pulled from Hammond for not stopping the other bomb from going off. He waited, bouncing slightly up on his heels, impatient and nervous about getting dressed down.

John stood a few feet away from him, his head lowered a bit, feeling the throb from the split lip as it swelled. He found himself having to focus on not letting his tongue constantly come out to play over the wound. He glanced over at Cameron and shrugged. Placing his hands on his hips John shifted a bit uncomfortably and then gave a tiny grin of irony.

"What good would that do?" he offered. "Somebody on this base is trying to make it look like I, or me and others, are trying to get rid of SG-1. Pressing charges would only give them precisely what they're looking for ... and it wouldn't look good to my own people who are already having doubts either." He thought about that and shrugged again, "Besides, it's not like I'm the poster boy for proper conduct in the U.S. Air Force either. Hell, General O'Neill probably already thinks I started the whole thing anyway."

John didn't really care about that. He liked O'Neill and had always hoped to gain the man's respect despite what other ranking officers thought of him and his file history, but it was really Sam he was more concerned about. If she were to believe that he'd attack her former teammates ... John let out a long breath and chose to just wait for that door to open. With another shrug and wry grin he offered to Cam, "Besides ... McMurdo? Been there, done that. It's not so bad. I kinda liked it there."

Ronon came down the corridor and grinned when he saw the two officers looking hang dogged outside the General's office. "So, ..." he said as he stopped between them and looked from one to the other, "who started it?" He grinned.

John looked at him sidelong and then pulled a snide expression. "It doesn't matter."

"Mitchell!" Ronon crowed a bit and John looked appalled that Ronon just assumed he hadn't.

"I didn't say he did! I said it doesn't matter!" John defended his answer.

Ronon grinned at him. "Yeah, which means he did it. Because if you had, you would've said that. You didn't admit to it which means you're covering for him so I know he did it."

John deadpanned and then looked to Cameron. "Crap." Sheppard decided right there that if that answer didn't keep Ronon in the dark it wouldn't keep O'Neill in the dark either so he decided that if asked he wouldn't say anything at all.

Cam frowned, dismay showing on his face. "Yeah," he said, knowing that no one would believe the sparing accident excuse. "They won't send you back to McMurdo. I won't ... I'll stop it or something. You're too vital for this command," he said to him. Then smirked. "No one else is crazy enough to deal with this," Cam told him.

"Mmmm," John nodded, then focused in serious thought. "Door ... walked into a door."

"Both of you?" Ronon asked, incredulously and then laughed because he knew John would say it.

Cam was silent for a few minutes. "At the same time," he said quickly, knowing that O'Neill would know. There was no way he couldn't know ... but if they both stuck to the story ... especially since there weren't going to be charges filed, Cam might be able to keep his rank.

"Yeah, well doors do have two sides," John pointed out.

"Won't work," Ronon shook his head, and folded his arms over each other across his chest. "Nope ... he won't buy that."

"Both on the same side then ... Ronon hit us with it," John suggested.

"Me??"

"You were the first one there," John reasoned. He looked to Cam then to Ronon and gave a bemused shrug.

"Colonels, Ronon," Daniel said quietly, his demeanour very serious, "The General is ready to see you now." He stepped aside so they could precede him into the room.

John walked in the room just behind Cameron with Ronon bringing up the rear. Sheppard took his place to Cameron's right and stood at attention like a good soldier should. Ronon stepped a few feet away and just looked at the two with a bit of a grin as he crossed his arms over his chest again.

Cam stood at attention, ramrod straight, playing into the "Golden Boy of the Air Force" assumption he'd always got colored with since he started flying years and years ago. His stomach was in his shoes, ashamed of his actions.

Jack almost winced when he saw the visible damage to both faces. Clearly more than just a couple of punches had been exchanged and he could only imagine how far they would have gone if Ronon hadn't stepped in to break them up.

"You wanna tell me what happened Colonel?" Jack pinned Mitchell with the annoyed stare first.

Cam and John shot each other a quick glance but both remained at attention otherwise. "Or you?" Jack turned next and glared at Sheppard. John opened his mouth to say something but was checked by O'Neill's next comment. "And make it good because from where I'm sitting right now the brig is looking like a real possibility."

"Door, Sir," John blurted out and Ronon lowered his head with a shake trying not to laugh. He actually did it. He actually offered the door excuse.

It took everything in Cam's power not to show his dismay when Sheppard blurted out the excuse about the door. But he was willing to go along with it. They were Wing mates on this one after all.

"That's your explanation?" Jack looked from Sheppard to Mitchell and back again, incredulous. "I didn't come down with the last shower, son ... you'll have to do a lot better than that!"

"Big door? Sir?" John added.

Ronon watched from his place and realized that John was doing the talking. He thought for sure that O'Neill and Col. Carter were bright enough to realize that the very fact that Cam hadn't slammed Sheppard to the commanding officers would be a clear sign that John was covering for the other. His green eyes went to the general and then to Sam before looking back to see John lower his eyes to the floor briefly before retaking an attentive attitude.

"That sounded more like a question than an answer Colonel," Jack pointed out sarcastically. "And I suppose you were only trying to help Sheppard fight off this ... door?" he turned and questioned Mitchell sternly, well aware that so far the other man had said nothing. From that alone Jack already had half the story ... at this point he was curious to see how far the two were prepared to take their contrived excuse.

"It was a really big door, Sir. As you know, there have been several incidents of sabotage on the base. I believe that the door had it in for me and Sheppard saved me from being injured further, Sir," he said, laying it on thick.

"Obviously," Jack said snidely, "although I would have expected you to come out a little better than it looks like you did." Keeping his eyes on both men, Jack paused as though considering what to do with them. "I'm assuming neither of you are pressing charges?" Both men nodded. "And neither of you is going to admit to not throwing the first punch?" Two nods again. "I thought so. Carter?" Jack waited until Sam had moved up to his side. "What's acknowledged as the worst duty post on base?" he looked up at her with a carefully bland expression.

She was disappointed in both men, and that showed clearly in her expression. Carter's lips pursed as she considered her options. There was the janitorial staff, of course, but they might be expecting that. As loathe as she was to disappoint them on that front, she didn't want to appear uncreative. "Well, Sir. They both intend on being stationed in the city for the foreseeable future, if their response just now was any indication. There's also Colonel Sheppard's incredibly... close... relationship with the city itself, due to his genetic structure, of course. I think it would be in both their interests to spend time each day learning more about Atlantis. Ancient languages and dialects in particular." She looked over at Daniel. "If Dr. Jackson is agreeable of course?"

"I would love to have them as students," Daniel replied, blue eyes sparkling in amusement. His graduate students had often lived in terror of his demands ... this was going to be fun ... for him.

'Languages,' John thought with a crooked grin. "Cooool."

"It's not supposed to be something to look forward to!" Jack grumbled, glancing at each of his ex team mates. "And seriously Carter ... studying with Daniel is the worst post on this base? I don't know Daniel ... I'd be feeling kind of insulted right now."

"Hmmmm, you have a point there Jack. Maybe Sam really considers it the worst post on this base for these two," Daniel nodded at Mitchell and John.

Carter simply smiled at the General. "Oh no, it is certainly the worst. You see, when I did my background check on Daniel, prior to our going to retrieve him from Abydos ... I found out something very interesting. His students used to loathe him. They loved the class itself, but he was rather ... formidable. I think that's exactly what these two need. If they're going to act like a couple of school boys, then they should be treated like a couple of school boys." Her gaze returned to the two officers. "I'm supremely irritated with the both of you. More than that, I'm incredibly disappointed. You should be setting an example for the rest of the city. So yes, General," she said to Jack directly. "I believe the punishment should be fit the crime."

Cam's ears burned with shame, standing straight at attention. He'd never been so ashamed in his life. Not even when he'd been little and gotten into his Momma's purse had he felt so bad.

"Your students loathed you Daniel?" Jack wondered why he'd never heard that story before. "No girls swooning in the front row with messages written on their eyelids?"

Daniel grinned, standing with crossed arms next to Jack's desk where he had wandered during Jack's dealings with the two younger men. He shook his head at Jack's comments, "No...I was too much of a Geek to attract the girls. No Indiana Jones here. I did, however, take pride in turning out graduate students with the most solidly written thesis imaginable. I think I still hold the record of having none of my grad students fail their thesis defence."

Smirking faintly at the look of pride on Daniel's face, O'Neill then turned his attention back to the two awaiting their 'sentence'. Jack hadn't intended to punish them when he'd asked Sam the question about worst posts ... just to let them think he would. Neither would admit to starting the fight and he could hardly punish both of them when one had only been defending himself. But given Carter's response and the fact they'd given what was possibly the worst excuse he'd ever heard, O'Neill decided on a different course of action.

"You'll report to Doctor Jackson for whatever lessons he sees fit to teach you," Jack announced sternly. "Perhaps he can teach one of you how to come up with a believable excuse."

"Yessir," Cam said quickly, accepting his punishment. He'd learn something new ... and he was sure that Jackson would make it one of those horribly good things that was torture to go through then saved his ass later. Because Jackson was nifty like that.

"Furlings," John offered softly as a backup.

"Colonel?" O'Neill frowned at the reference to the only race in the original Milky Way alliance they hadn't met. "Is that going to be your next excuse or are you putting in a request on the topic for Daniel's first class?"

Daniel lifted his eyebrows as well, waiting for Sheppard's answer.

John's attention went back to those in the room. He blinked at them then gave a small, rather fragile, grin. "Was that out loud?"

Cam fought hard not to roll his eyes. "That would be an excellent first lesson, Sir, Jackson," he said, trying to do damage control.

"It would," O'Neill agreed, thinking to himself 'Nice save Mitchell'. The distracted air surrounding Sheppard was a concern but the fact that the two had buried the hatchet and shifted so quickly into covering for each other counter balanced that. "This matter is settled," Jack announced firmly, pausing for both men to hopefully relax a bit before adding "but if I hear the two of you have even looked at each other the wrong way I'll throw a whole library of rule books at you ... there won't be a door big enough to excuse you." Jack glanced back to Sam and then again at Sheppard and Mitchell. "Dismissed."

Sheppard didn't exactly understand the term "look at each other the wrong way", and it showed when he turned to look at Cam curiously and gave him a head to toe perusal before shrugging as if thinking "Never. I don't think so... ever."

Cam saluted sharply and turned on his heel, getting ready to walk out, hoping that Sheppard was with him on that one. He left the office, his ears burning red and glad that they weren't in worse trouble and him on his way to prison.

John looked surprised as Cam gave a sharp salute and, trying to follow on his example, Sheppard offered one too. However, he'd never really gotten the whole hang of that particular thing so his came across rather sloppy and casual especially beside Mitchell's sharp and snappy one. The best salute John Sheppard had ever offered was to Col. Everett and that one had made the other officer cringe. Once they both dropped their respective salutes, Cam turned toward the door and had to push Sheppard to get him moving. Ronon then followed the two bruised and battered officers out the door.

Carter waited for all of them to leave before turning back to Jack and Daniel. "Atlantis doesn't currently have a Counsellor, General." She explained to O'Neill. "The position vacated with the death of the previous Counsellor hasn't been filled yet. I would recommend getting one in here as quickly as possible or we're going to start seeing more incidents like this one."

"Agreed," O'Neill acknowledged. Counselling wasn't personally something he ever looked for but he understood the value of giving people an impartial ear. Sam and Daniel left Jack to his thoughts ... for what they were worth.

Friday, 3rd April | 1530 hours | Special Investigations Lab

General O'Neill strode back into his lab after what felt like a very long morning. Before he spoke again to Colonel Sheppard Jack wanted to know where they were at in the investigation.

"Captain Sterling," he greeted the only other member of his team currently in the lab. "Are you ready to give me a progress report on what you've found out so far?"

Sterling looked up from his place at the worktable, currently stacked with neatly sorted lists, data disks, maps, analysis reports and diagrams. What looked like a painstakingly trimmed maze of paper and data was the work of a long night. “Of course, Sir.”

Sterling rose from his chair and took a folder containing about 70 pages from the table. It contained the condensed, compiled version of the preliminary report in English. Right now, he just needed it for all the lab results as he spoke.

“The first incident was the balcony collapse, we recovered a variety of metal splinters and corrosion remains on the site. The lab found traces of a corrosive agent, HsSO4, commonly known as battery acid, on both, the metal itself as well as in the ‘rust’ from the break site. The different samples from the balcony show a clear pattern of that substance on the structural points of the break line.” Darek turned the page to a graph that showed the architectural structure of the balcony and the pattern of the acid. After the initial find, a second collecting of more samples had been necessary to complete it. Darek pointed to the critical points of the graph. “Whoever did this knew exactly which points needed to be weakened to lead eventually to a collapse of the balcony. The pattern also shows us that it wasn’t an accident ... a leaking battery would have left a puddle of acid, this one was applied with a specific plan in mind.”

"Battery acid?" O'Neill frowned thoughtfully. "Are we talking car batteries here? Because that's pretty common on Earth sure, but here? Be hard pressed to find even one lead-acid battery anywhere in the city."

"Battery acid isn’t the only use for Sulphuric acid, Sir.“ Darek replied. “It’s also common in fertilizer production and wastewater processing. And it is one of the acids that has been produced by manual means since the middle ages.” Darek hesitated for a moment, not sure if the General really wanted to get a full lecture on how Sulphuric acid was produced. “It isn’t exactly easy, but it is certainly doable.”

"So someone could be producing their own supply or accessing someone else’s from within the city," O'Neill concluded. "Unless we stumble upon them in the act of splashing acid around that lead isn't likely to get us anywhere. Anything else?"

“There are no indications that the door protocols were manipulated,” Darek went on, going over the facts of the case in a systematic manner. “High level access might still make it possible to erase an entry entirely.” The next page contained only a tab with all the log notes from the door structured by time, person, days and duration. “Dr. Bruce Mallory was at the place about an hour before the incident, and again shortly after. In fact, he arrived there before the area could be blocked off.”

"An hour before Cadman got there would make it pretty early," Jack commented. "Did you ask him why he was there?"

“He said he enjoys the quiet in that place, when he had a problem to think through. His colleagues also state that he likes to take long walks when he has problems to solve,” Darek replied. “I am still in the process of going through the security feeds and establishing a pattern for all his walks, to see if they overlap with any of the other sabotage zones, Sir.” With not that many people on the investigation team, Darek had been forced to strictly set priorities for all tasks, and this one had not been on the very top of the list.

"Everybody seems to want to use the balconies for 'thinking'," Jack pointed out. "Cadman and now this Doctor Mallory. It's a wonder they're not more crowded! So ... what profile of person are we looking at here?"

“Aside from perhaps being able to erase their entry in the door-logs, requiring high-level access, the only other skill needed would be some basic knowledge of building structures and some basic experience in handling highly acidic substances.” Except for the first one, all something that was commonplace enough in a place like Atlantis. “Suspects and possible victims are a mixed breed in this case as we only have the regular visitors of the place as an indicator.” Darek summed up what they knew. “Those being: Col. Sheppard, Dr. Mallory, Dr. Beckett and … Col. Carter.”

"An interesting collection of names there," Jack returned, ignoring Darek's hesitation before naming Sam. He'd known Carter would be on the list - she'd been the target after all. "Despite what I said before I am kinda surprised so many are accessing remote areas of the city alone but ... being there by itself isn't much of an indicator of guilt. Unless the same names crop up somewhere else?"

Sterling had summed up everything they knew about the balcony. At the General's comment he moved on to the next incident, the viewscreen collapse. “The security logs from the night before the view screen collapse show that only Private Ables remained at his post. He kept on working on his tasks, and while they involved the viewscreen he didn't tamper with it in any shape or form.” It had been a disappointingly normal security feed for so spectacular an event. “The data of the visual log is right now undergoing a frame-by-frame analysis for anomalies in lighting. An incorrect shadow or other oddity might give a hint to an invisible person present.” Their two best laptops were caught up in that analysis and it still went slowly. Darek had refrained from downscaling the video quality to a format more easily handled, to preserve all chances to catch anything off.

"By invisible I assume you mean someone deleting themselves from the footage," Jack commented. "Are there any other ways to mess with video?"

"Someone deleting himself from the footage, Sir, or using older footage to replace a part of the actual footage," Darek clarified. "There is also the option that someone edited the video - by making use of multiple videos of the same place and rearranging them to give a certain impression of the place, Sir. It is something often done by news-channels to make their material more catching. I also considered somebody might be using some kind of technology to hide from plain sight.” The last one was the one Darek feared most. Even in a frame-by-frame analysis, taking all sources of light and all shadows into consideration he could not be sure that they'd be able to track that. Not that he expected to see a full disembodied shadow somewhere on the footage ... they were looking for much smaller anomalies. The kind of small things that were sure to expose a manipulated video.

"So - more skills most of the people here would have,' Jack commented blandly, not troubled by that. Their attacker had to be smart enough to anticipate most of what would be done in an investigating and act accordingly.

“As to the reason of the viewscreen collapsing: the screen itself was in flawless condition.” Darek felt that fact was far too reminiscent of the line about the patient who was in top-condition aside from the fact that he was dead. “The bracket holding the viewscreen in places proved to be manually weakened, the tool used was probably a common saw.” Another diagram showed the analysis of the saw’s scratches and a projection of size, blade type and other details of the tool used. “The screen was so weakened that it would have given in under a strong gale. That many people gathered around it would have been enough, leading to the incident.”

"Our culprit took a risk there," O'Neill said with a hint of surprise. "Plenty of hours between setting it up when someone else could have caused the fall."

“The skills needed to achieve this were minimal aside from the common handling of a saw, and again a basic understanding of the structural integrity of the place, to determine the exact point to weaken for this sabotage to be most efficient.” Darek shook his head. “There isn’t much else, Sir. Private Abel is the only viable suspect, albeit I noted that Col. Sheppard and one Dr. Mahanay were also present during the incidents without any real reason to be there at the time.”

"Doctor Mahanay was in the Control Room when the screen collapsed?" General O'Neill felt again that twinge of instinct inside, although nothing in his conversation with the diplomat cast any suspicion on her directly. "Did she talk to anyone while she was there?"

"Actually, she did, Sir. Private Ables spoke to her, only moments before the screen came down.” Darek replied. “I dismissed their conversation as superficial during the initial checks.” Yet … Darek reconsidered, it was a tad odd that a Private would actually chastise a diplomat for staring at some of the command people. What if that had not been a random conversation but a code exchange? He forced his attention back on the General. “Aside from Private Ables she had no other conversation that I know of, before the events, Sir.”

"So after the first two incidents Colonel Sheppard is the only common link," Jack commented, "on paper anyway. What about the Underwater Lab?"

Sterling turned the pages to the next incident report. “As previously noted, no security logs exist from the underwater lab, but we were able to reconstruct the chain of events that led to the incident. As the lab is in regular use and an airtight, sealed room, there is a regular routine of replenishing the air inside the lab. This happens usually during the night, the system is set to perform this task at 0100 hours to be precise. In this case someone sliced into the system to alter this time to 1800 hours, the person who did this was very clever, instead of resetting the time for this task entirely, an action that might have been noted by the tech people charged with the maintenance of the lab, the saboteur just manipulated the timer that controlled the replenishing process by adding some hours to the count, causing the system to start the process at 1800."

Jack nodded ... a neat and clever approach. A pity someone that smart was using their talents in such a way. For the first time O'Neill actively considered the why, the motivation. What was their saboteur really going to get from all of this?

"The second thing our saboteur did," Darek continued, "was manipulating the security systems of the lab itself, essentially switching the feeds that record life-signs from the lab, to the data from the night before when the lab was empty. Thus the security system believed the lab to be empty during the incident.” Darek turned to another set of diagrams on the folder.  They showed the complex compressor used to re-pressurize the fresh air for the lab. It was a complex piece of tech and he had become intimately acquainted with it during the inspection. “When the labs air gets replenished the compressor pressurizes the air to keep the pressure inside the lab stable ... it's almost the same principle we use for moon pools on Earth. The spiral pumps inside the system were both manipulated, causing the compressor to work with only 10% of its usual efficiency.” They had missed the manipulation at first inspection, and only an in-depth, bean-counting, meticulous approach had allowed them to find the manipulation in the end.

“So when the air was replenished at 1800 the compressor worked but far below the needed capacity, causing the pressure inside the lab to drop drastically. The security systems picked up on the pressure drop and the water rising in the moon-pool and because they did not detect any living being inside the lab they sealed off the area, deactivating the inner lock controls entirely to prevent an opening of the airlock through damage done to the control by floating items.”

"Showing off a lot more skill than the first two incidents," O'Neill pointed out. "Either feeling more complacent about not being caught or maybe deliberately ... part of pointing the finger in a particular direction. To those with the skill."

“Col. Carter was the first to arrive on the scene and rescue Dr. Jackson,” Darek turned to the people on the scene. As they had no video logs of the incident they would have to make do with what they could find out otherwise. The static on the security systems was another issue confined to the end of the report. “Oddly enough Col. Sheppard arrived only shortly after, claiming that he too had a note, asking him to come to the lab. When I asked for said note later he failed to produce it.”

Jack didn't comment ... he'd already said and thought too much about how Sheppard was inadvertently helping their bad guy create an impression. But he added the apparent lack of a note to his list of questions to ask John later.

“Which brings up the topic of the notes," Darek continued. "The preliminary analysis of the surviving note indicates that it might not be Dr. Jackson’s handwriting after all.” Graphology was not exactly Darek's field of expertise, so aside from Dr. Garman he'd had to rely on a highly advanced computer program to assess the note. “The use of nicknames on the same note is disturbing, though. It indicates that either the perpetrator has done some in-depth surveillance of Col. Carter and Dr. Jackson, which again indicates a person with high level access to security, or is indeed a person very well known and close to them.”

"Surveillance seems more likely," Jack returned. "And not because I don't want to entertain the notion that someone close to them ... and therefore someone close to me is behind all this. Their relationship is new ... not common knowledge yet ... and the culprit used it to manipulate them to the same location. I didn't even know Daniel and Sam had gone down that road ... not until I got here and could see it for myself. The only way the culprit could have know is if they'd observed it for themselves ... via video."

For a moment Darek was tempted to point out that while the General might only have realized upon his arrival, somebody else might be close to Col. Carter and Dr. Jackson here in Atlantis and have know earlier. But he held back on that comment - he did not know SG-1 well enough to make that assumption, thus he trusted General O’Neill on having the better insights. “So, we have somebody who took an unhealthy interest in the private live of Dr. Jackson and Col. Carter.” He took up the train of thought. Perhaps somebody who had once been in love or had a crush on one of them. Darek vaguely recalled some people at the SGC joking about McKay and Col. Carter. Or had they just hit on the reason why none of the attacks on either Jackson or Carter had been lethal so far?

"For what reason?" Jack mused. "It seemed personal but no one was killed. They want to punish Carter or Daniel personally ... just enough to get their point across but not enough to rule out something for the future. We might be able to use that to flush our suspect out from hiding inside Sheppard's very guilty looking shadow. We got any suspects on the underwater lab Captain?"

"A lot of skill was needed to carry out the manipulation needed for the incident Sir,” Darek summed up the findings. “Most prominently high level computer skills of course to manipulate the timer and the security systems, along with the necessary mechanical skills to manipulate the pumps in a way that would not be found prematurely. Our main suspect in that case is Col. Sheppard. He showed up on the scene most suspiciously, failed to produce the note and actually should have the skills to stage this incident.”

"He wouldn't be the only one," Jack said casually. "Atlantis is full of a lot of really talented folk. Most of the civilians could probably hack the computers ... half the military too. Looking at the skills is necessary but ... at this stage we need more than that ... or for our target to use something much less common." Jack shot a glance at Darek to see him considering what he'd said. "Like bomb building ... unless it was C4 there'd only be a handful of people with the skills to blow a chair out of the Hammond like that."

“We analysed what was left of the bombs onboard the Hammond,” Darek took the General's cue and turned to their next incident. “The first one was a hybrid construct made of Earth, Ancient and Replicator technology. The Replicator component wasn't destroyed by the ARG wave but it's defensive mechanisms make analysis virtually impossible. Lieutenant Cadman did well to isolate and remove it without setting it off again. There actually is a Replicator lab on Atlantis so we could conclude that it might have been constructed in the city."

Jack nodded ... he'd known the Replicator elements were going to be difficult to use as evidence because of that lab.

"The Ancient component was a device that went missing from a lab two weeks ago," Darek continued. "It was already activated, so no ATA gene was needed for its further use. Inside the bomb it worked as a secondary fuse, an ingenious misuse of a peaceful application.” Darek was grateful for Lt. Cadman’s patient explanations and answers to all his questions during their work on the bomb’s remains. "The Earth parts of the bomb were a fuse and a Composition B explosive, used far and wide by the military. We are still trying to track down some irregularities in the reports of expenditure of ammunition and explosives.” This part of the investigation had been prone to even rile Darek’s temper. Used to reports that treated bullets like a bean-counter might treat beans or pennies, he found it less easy to track the explosive but he still hoped that they might come up with something here.

"Did someone report that device as missing?" O'Neill asked curiously.

"Yes," Darek replied. "Dr. Biro and Lt. Hunter could be considered our main suspects because both of them worked at the lab where the ancient device went missing. They were initially cleared of any accusations after the investigation about the theft was over, but that’s not saying much. They bring the skills needed for this too: knowledge of replicator technology and some explosives skills, along with a basic knowledge of the Hammond.”

"Any surveillance?" Jack queried.

“No - no one was strangely present at the time, and again we lack the security feeds from the docking area," Darek replied.

"That's getting just a little too convenient," Jack said irritably. "No point having cameras if they can be taken out of the equation so easily." He paused before sighing. "What about McKay's console?"

Darek moved to the console report next - the diagrams the lab had produced when analysing the consoles’ remains looked like a hellish dance of coloured lines. “As material disruption, debris distribution and area damage already indicated, the lab did not find any evidence for any explosive used on the console.” Darek started off on the astounding facts of the console incident. “As a matter of fact the two possible scenarios we had to work with were overload or meltdown. The material deformation and damage supported both theories nicely. Luckily one of the data crystals in the console got buried under some of the more heat resistant plastic materials of the console and thus survived the destruction. What we found analysing it was this:” Darek turned the page to a set of mathematical tables and other diagrams. “It was a power-overload.”

"Controlled," Jack noted, "and quite creatively if I'm reading this right."

“Yes Sir ... the main skills needed to achieve this are high mathematical skills, programming skills and an understanding of how the console works,” Darek summed up the findings. “The only other person on the scene aside from the victim was Col. Sheppard - he's our prime suspect in that case. He had no reason to go down to the lab, he tried to prevent the victim from shutting down the console for no apparent reason and all data available about him indicate that he might be a math-genius.”

"He said he urged Rodney away purely so they could have lunch," O'Neill pointed out. "If McKay is anything like Colonel Carter used to be Sheppard probably would have needed to be forceful just to get the man's attention. As for the maths thing ... with the details you have there I should be able to test him on that. Any other evidence?"

“We do not have security-logs from the lab, it was covered in static,” Sterling replied. “The repeated appearance of this phenomenon led me to take all of the incidents and make a list of them, along with the times. As well as the underwater lab, the static occurred at the Pier where the Hammond is docked, the hydroponics bay, Dr. McKay’s secondary lab, the Replicator making Lab, the Mess Hall balcony, and the hallway outside Col. Carter’s office. Many of them possible areas for another attempt, or already caught up in the events.” The next pages were a layered map of Atlantis marked with the blanks and the times and length of each one. “Sir, I think it is possible that those are no random occurrences but caused and used by the saboteurs to move around and make the manipulations to the systems they need. Two incidents already show that at least one of them has enough skill to manipulate computer and security systems.”

"We'll need a copy of that map to give to Colonel Carter," Jack frowned at the implication that more events might have already been set up. "She'll get security teams to check all the locations." Jack paced in front of the evidence Sterling had spread out, considering what they'd learned. "What does all this really tell us Darek, leaving aside Sheppard as the main suspect?

“Summing it up Sir, we get to these profiles of potential saboteurs,” Darek took a second folder from the table and handed it to the General. It was an analysis of all the skills needed for the different incidents, taking technical skills into account as well as planning skills, timing and tactical skills. The readable preliminary version of the file had only been done around five in the morning and contained also a listings of what they did not know, questions that were still open about the persons they were hunting.

"Nice work Captain," Jack took the file and looked at its contents quickly, realising he'd have to sit down and read it in more detail later. "We need to check in with Doctor Garman ... see if she has any medical evidence that ties in with what you've discovered."

"I'll get to that right away, Sir." Darek hoped that Dr. Garman had found something, anything on the various samples and incident sites.

General O'Neill acknowledged the other mans words ... frowning down at the mass of paper in front of him Jack sighed. He'd have to review the findings again and think carefully about what he needed to know before his next interview with Colonel Sheppard.

Friday, 3rd April | 1630 hours | Command Tower | Cultural Sciences/Diplomatic Services Wing, Jackson's Office

Daniel stretched and reached absently for his cup of coffee, frowning as he took a sip and the now cold, bitter brew washed over his tongue. Sighing, he slid to his feet, snagged the thermal carafe off the coffee maker's warming plate and carried it to the small lavatory just off his main office/lab area. He poured out the hours old and now cold coffee, rinsed the carafe thoroughly and carried it back, setting up the coffee maker and pushing the brew button. The internal grinder whirred for a moment or two before the coffee maker went into action, doing its thing to make a near perfect cup of coffee. Daniel inhaled the aroma of the fresh ground coffee and smiled contentedly. Anything could be dealt with...including having to tell current girlfriend about ex-girlfriend...as long as good coffee was available.

With the coffee happily gurgling away, Daniel returned to his work station and the large stone tablet that was resisting his efforts to reassemble it so he could work on translating the text. Picking up a soft brush from next to the tray where the tablet fragments lay and a small, sharp tool that resembled a dentist's probe, he went back to the meticulous job of trying to clean the edges and fit the pieces back in order. The tablet had been found on T19-994 in a ruined temple. One of the Marines on the expedition, an amateur archaeologist, thought some of the writing referred to the Clava Thessara Infinitas, allegedly a map to infinite Ancient treasure. Daniel had at first dismissed references to the Infinitas as myth, however, his interest was again piqued when reference to it appeared in the Pegasus Galaxy as well.

Daniel paused again a few moments later to pour himself a fresh cup of coffee before returning his attention to cleaning and reassembling the tablet. Sipping his coffee, the archaeologist found himself staring off into space as his mind went over the turmoil of the last few days. It was almost a week since the near drowning incident in the Underwater Lab. Daniel had swiftly recovered with no physical reminders of the incident beyond a lingering soreness around his chest and ribs from the forceful compressions of the CPR.

His meeting with Jack that morning had lingered in his mind all day making working next to impossible. It was inconceivable that someone or a group of someones had gained enough access to Atlantis’ secured systems to cause the havoc they had caused. Yet his sore chest was solid testimony to the fact that they had. The attempts or feigned attempts on the lives of SG-1 had culminated in fisticuffs between Cameron Mitchell and John Sheppard. Daniel had been forced to report the incident thus laying more of a burden on Sam. That had briefly angered him on her behalf. She had enough on her plate without two of the base’s highest ranking officers adding to it. Yet to be fair, Daniel understood why it had happened. Tension and tempers were running high. In their favor, however, John and Cameron had chosen to stand together when brought before Jack for review and reprimand.

Deciding that his concentration was blown for the moment, Daniel refreshed his coffee and walked out to the small terrace just off his office. Taking a seat at the small bistro style table, he turned his eyes on the quietly rolling turquoise ocean. The breeze was soft and rather soothing leaving Daniel to relax and focus his attention on the horizon. He found himself wishing the ocean could calm the turmoil brewing within his new home.

Leia poked her head into Daniel's office as she knocked, trying to be polite. "Dr. Jackson? It's Dr. Mahanay!" she called out, looking around, wondering if he wanted some company. She got no answer. Leia entered further, smelling the absolutely wonderful coffee. "Ahhh," she said with a longing look towards the coffee pot. She peeked around the office further, feeling bad about intruding so far into the area.

She noticed him sitting on the balcony and poked her head out. "Dr. Jackson?" she asked, seeing him so distant. "I just wanted to see how you were doing."

Daniel glanced up at the sound of his name, blue eyes slightly wide and startled since he had been lost in thought. He offered a slight smile and gestured at the other seat, "Dr. Mahanay...I think in private it would be fine to address me as Daniel. Please, have a seat...or grab a cup of coffee and then join me," he suggested pleasantly choosing not to address her question on how he was doing just yet.

"Sure, Daniel. Please... Feel free to call me Leia," she said, testing out his name. "Just let me get a cup of the good stuff," Leia said, taking him up on his offer. She fixed it quickly and headed outside. "It's so lovely out here..." Leia said with a sigh, looking across the water.

"Leia," he acknowledged comfortably. "It is beautiful here. I have always been able to lose myself and my cares when staring at the sea...or the dunes of a desert." Daniel paused and smiled slightly, "It was the only thing I can honestly say I liked about California and UCLA...spending time by the ocean."

Leia smiled, nodding in agreement. "It's the same for me. I'd end up going down to Mission Beach in San Diego a lot when I was younger..." she told him. Leia took a drink of the coffee, relishing the taste. "It's good to see you back at work. I've been working with Dr. Stanton quite a bit, trying to help with any backlog since DipOps is at a standstill until we can use the 'Gate again,"

"Oh...that's great. Thanks for helping Max. He's really a godsend for a second. I'm surprised there was no hard feelings at me being awarded the position over him...but he seems right in his element," Daniel smiled. "Considering the load of stuff in my in-box, am betting I owe you lunch or maybe even dinner."

"It was my pleasure, Daniel. I enjoyed the opportunity to polish my skills. You can 'borrow' me longer if you wish. I doubt anyone would object. Dr. Stanton is pretty interesting," she said wryly. "But I think he enjoys what he does more than being the man in charge," Leia observed. "I'll gladly take you up on that... I'm free tomorrow," she said cheerfully.

Daniel nodded, "I'm sure we could use the assistance for a few more days. On the lunch...let's make it tentative and state as long as nothing happens to derail it. Eleven-thirty hours? Unless I get broadsided by ... something?"

"Agreed. Eleven-thirty it is. With the promise to reschedule if either party gets broadsided," she said, her gray eyes twinkling happily. "I went ahead and cleared it with Dr. Weir, but I'll go ahead and let her know again that I'll be helping over here," Leia said, taking another sip of her coffee.

"I'm sure there's more than enough to keep you busy. We had a backlog before Jack shut down operations so with so many teams returning at once, it really piled in," Daniel replied. "I'll send my own request to Elizabeth as well...department head courtesy and all that jazz."

Leia nodded. She looked at him, wondering how he was holding up after all the stuff that was going on. Of course, her previous questioning of his condition was deflected. "I'm sure it will be no problem. It keeps me sharp and the best part about Atlantis is the ability to work in more than one area if you've got the skills," she said, watching him and how he moved.

Daniel nodded his agreement with her statement and reached for his coffee to take a sip and return his gaze towards the sea. He did not mind the company as the events of the past few days were occupying his mind far more than his work at the moment. His mind steadily wove the details and threads of the incidents, reactions, and speculations into comprehensible scenarios. Here was his opportunity to play the neutral element he had suggested to Jack and maybe get someone to open up regarding their views on the situation...their theories or speculations.

Finally, he spoke slowly, carefully considering his words. He knew Leia had been interviewed by Jack although he was not yet privy to the details. As Jack's sounding board, that would occur in private when the two men could talk without fear of being overheard. "So...Leia...how are you and your department dealing with the rumors and innuendo circulating around base regarding the incidents that have occurred?"

Leia paused and stirred her coffee. "It's tearing the department apart for the moment... Acklin even suggested that her presence was a detrimental to the department. Morley and Richardson won't even speak two words to her... I tried to defend her and keep the peace, but they're hardly listening to me..." she said, frustrated.

Daniel listened to the woman, head tilted as he considered the information. It seemed odd to him that Elizabeth's own department was so fractured. A majority of them were members of the original expedition. He had been expecting more of a united front in defence of their Director. They had been under his command too briefly for him to have any solid idea of their allegiances. Daniel's department had, for the most part, followed his example and were either playing it low-key or were genuinely neutral in regards to how they perceived the incidents and the escalating schism.

"I'm sorry to hear that DipOps has been so unsettled by the events of the past few days. Perhaps instead of avidly defending Dr. Weir, you should try a more neutral approach? Maybe your example in dealing with her and the situation in a strictly neutral or professional manner will help set the tone for the rest of the staff?" Daniel suggested. It was the same approach he had used with his own staff with a request that if there were further concerns than he had addressed in a brief staff meeting earlier in the week then they should seek to speak with him privately. One or two of his staff had come to him, concerned for what had happened to him in particular but also at the perceived Us versus Them atmosphere that was being created. Max Stanton, bless him, had only been concerned that Daniel was indeed unharmed and had offered to take on even more work until the archaeologist felt himself ready to return full time.

"I've been trying that path, Daniel. Leading by example has helped, but not enough yet. I think it's the fact that we just got started and now... it looks like she's some sort of villain. I think it's just that all the ones that were here from the beginning see their faith as being broken for believing her... and those hurt feelings and wild accusations are making it difficult to open any discussion yet. I believe that they've raised Dr. Weir on some sort of pedestal ... and with all this going on, it's lowered her somehow in their eyes..." she said, analysing the situation.

Listening, brows furrowed in concern, Daniel shook his head, "That's not good. Perhaps Elizabeth herself needs to just face them and talk to them, let them ask her and respond directly. Or...you can remind them that, as their previous Director, my door is always open as well." It understandably disturbed Daniel that the DipOps half of the department was so unsettled. There had been rumbling and some speculation amongst his department's staff and in his hearing. But those that needed more assurance had come to him and the others took their cue from Daniel's own calm and neutral responses. It was information he was going to relay back to Jack although he was pretty sure the other man had already spoken to Weir and Mahanay.

"I'll remind them, Daniel. Perhaps if I take more of a lead with my department, we can get them to stop pointing fingers... something." she said, leaning back in her seat and frowning slightly.

Daniel nodded. There was not much more he could say or suggest before he would be guilty of interfering in how Weir and Mahanay were running their department.

Leia looked at Daniel and looked apologetic. "I'm sorry. I should've taken this in hand before now... I was just-" she paused, frowning. "Trying to wait it out, I think... I don't want to believe that she could do this," Leia said, totally beside herself.

Lifting his eyebrows, Daniel shook his head, "I thought it was innocent until proven guilty not guilty because some people suspect you're guilty? As a diplomat leading a team of diplomats, I would think all of you would keep that precept in mind." His voice carried a gentle tone of admonishment.

Leia looked startled. She hadn't meant to. "Of course. I've said too much... and you're right. She is innocent until proven guilty and I believe it's past time I reminded my department of that. Thank you, Daniel," she said, needing to take care of this problem now.

Daniel considered Leia for a few moments before rising to his feet, "You're welcome. My door's always open if you need help. Right now, though, I need to get back to work." He walked with her to his office doorway where she thanked him again before taking her leave. Daniel took both of their coffee cups and rinsed them out before returning to his work on the fragmented tablet.

Leia left, her cheeks flushed and her heart pounding. She never... Grrrr. She always said too much, went too far around that man. "Damnation!" she swore once she'd gotten out of earshot.

Friday, 3rd April | 1630 hours | Special Investigations Lab, Interview room

Glancing quickly at his watch General O'Neill decided there was still time to talk to Sheppard, even though his talk with Darek had taken longer than he'd expected. It was hard to believe how much incriminating evidence they'd already accumulated ... and most of it pointing to just one person.

"Colonel Sheppard," Jack accessed the con to speak to John personally.

"Yes, Sir?" Sheppard's voice came back almost immediately.

"I'm ready for that chat I mentioned," Jack replied. "If you'd join me down here in the interview room."

There was a pause that resounded with trepidation and then the wary reply. "Yes, Sir. On my way."

O'Neill slouched back in his chair, considering his options. Perhaps it was time to take a different approach. He'd have to see how things played out when Sheppard arrived.

A few moments later the door chimed to announce Sheppard's arrival. At O'Neill's invitation he swept his hand over the door control and it opened. John stood there a moment looking inside and then stepped in. "Lt. Colonel John Sheppard reporting as ordered, Sir!" he iterated as trained many years ago. Going full blown military was something he was so not used to and hated the whole feel of it. But he saw no reason to add another coloured note to his file.

"Relax Sheppard or you'll strain something," Jack quipped, torn between amusement and exasperation. "I don't need the military stiff upper lip here."

John relaxed considerably almost immediately and placed a hand lightly near his appendix. "Thank you, Sir. I think I almost pulled something," he remarked with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"Have a seat," Jack waved a hand casually to the place across from him. John sat, appearing relaxed as he watched for Jack to ask him something. Looking at him thoughtfully, Jack considered again his next course of action.

"What do you think is going on here Colonel?" he finally asked, keeping it broad to give the other man as much scope as possible in which to answer.

John glanced around the office and licked his lip, and winced with a slight hiss. "Umm ... an interview?" he asked.

"I was thinking just a little more broadly than that," Jack rolled his eyes at John's response. "What do you think is going on with these incidents Sheppard?"

"Oh," John said, realizing the general didn't mean right here right now. "Umm, well, I think someone's trying to make Lanteans look bad so that the SGC takes us out of the picture and whoever is doing this can slide into the command structure. It's no secret, Sir, that the IOA and the Trust and other nameless and not-so-nameless organizations and operatives have been vying for this City since we stepped foot in her, Sir." Sheppard stopped and just looked at Jack evenly.

"And your place in that?" Jack persisted. "After all, it's not Lanteans that look bad right now ... it's you - personally. Assuming I'm not buying into your bad press, why target you?"

"Do I, Sir? Do I look bad right now?" John asked and just looked at Jack for a moment then swallowed. He crossed one leg over the other and stared at his boot in thought. "Maybe... because... I have the strongest bond with her, Sir."

"Her as in Atlantis or her as in Doctor Weir?" Jack shot back, willing the man to trust him.

John's eyes shot to Jack as he'd started to look away. His eyes slowly shielded as he controlled his response with effort. He met O'Neill's gaze evenly and finally asked, "Why would you think I meant Dr. Weir ... of all people, Sir?"

"Oh don't give me that, Sheppard," Jack said in exasperation. "You don't make it to General without learning something along the way ... and I have eyes!"

"What the hell does that mean?" Sheppard shot back.

"You really need me to spell it out?" Jack sighed, rubbing a hand tiredly over his face as he wished that just once Sheppard would make it easy for himself. Didn't the other man realize that his question about John being the target had been an invitation for Sheppard to insist that someone was setting him up? That it had been him chosen because the personal issues made it all too easy to achieve? The attacker hadn't even had to lift a finger at times for John to look guilty. "Okay, the hard way then," O'Neill muttered, pinning Sheppard with a straight in the eyes look. "You ever watch War Games, Sheppard - that movie where the kid hacks into the defence systems?"

"Sure. Who hasn't?" John replied. "What has that got to do with anything?" He waited, wearing a slight frown for the next part.

"Sparked a whole generation of boys who thought hacking was cool," O'Neill commented casually. "About your age mostly. You ever want to do that - hack into a system, just because you could?"

John regarded O'Neill without a twitch of reaction to that question. He kept his cool and his wariness up front. "Can't say that I have ... and who says I could? I'm no brainiac like McKay and some of the others. Kavanaugh for instance ... or Lee ..."

"Yes," Jack drawled. "Both stunning examples of brains and ... popularity. Guessing someone's password and using it to get into the system counts you know. And I read the reports on that false quarantine situation. You used McKay's password to shut off the subspace beacon. So ... maybe more of a brainiac than you'd be willing to let on."

Now Sheppard shifted slightly in his seat and took a deep breath, lowering his once steady gaze before looking back up at the general. "Blind luck ... good guess ... beginner's luck ..." he offered with a bit of a dry grin. "Or maybe I was just light-headed after climbing the four stories of the tower ..." he shrugged.

"Maybe," Jack agreed. He'd made his point on the skill side ... up to a point. "I hear you and McKay play chess on a regular basis ... you win a few?"

"A few," John answered, completely humble in his answer, despite the fact that he actually won 9 out of 10 games against McKay. "Being a military strategist helps in that regard."

"A few huh?" O'Neill raised an eyebrow. "According to McKay he's practically a master so ... even a few is pretty impressive."

John gave a dry grin and stated, "Ask McKay and he's practically a master at just about anything, Sir. Rodney's modesty leaves a lot to be desired."

Jack knew chess too - sure, strategy helped but it was more than that. The ability to hold a succession of planned moves and counter moves in your head and adjust them should your opponent do something unexpected wasn't to be fobbed off as common place - despite Sheppard's modesty. In fact, Jack found it amusing in a way - how far would Sheppard go to dumb himself down before he couldn't do it anymore? O'Neill understood that game - had played it himself successfully with Carter and Daniel for more years than he would have thought possible.

"You know - I fancy myself a bit of a strategist too and I've been known to play the odd game of chess from time to time." John's expression shifted slightly, much like the fox caught in the hen house and trying to look casual as he searched mentally for an escape route. Jack smirked at the look on John's face. "Maybe we should have a game... before I go back home."

"Oh ... absolutely, Sir. Would be a pleasure," John offered not too believably. "Wouldn't miss it."

Sheppard began to worry on the inside that his "who me?" strategy wasn't convincing the general. Most of the time it wasn't that difficult to convince people he was just a brainless throttle jockey. Most people were happy to accept that wide-eyed "duh" look he preferred to wear most of the time. But then again, Jack O'Neill was also a highly skilled throttle jockey and perhaps not necessarily as 'dumbed down' as he led people to believe either. John considered that as he and O'Neill continued to regard one another. His eyes narrowed slightly with that last thought without John realizing it, so he wasn't really aware of why Jack smirked before continuing the interview.

"Yeah, now you're worrying," Jack thought in amusement. "Thinking back on all those mission reports ... wondering how many of them I've actually read." Rather than jump in straight away, O'Neill let Sheppard stew on his thoughts for a few moments more.

John also wasn't aware of precisely what was in his official file since only those in the highest positions or 'need-to-know' departments ever got a look at personnel folders. John licked his lip and lowered his chin thoughtfully, wondering just how much O'Neill actually knew ... or thought he knew.

"Excellent - I'll pencil in a game," Jack said after he'd exchanged what might be considered meaningful glances with John for a few moments. Oh yeah - they were certainly starting to wonder about each other now! "You good with cars Sheppard? Tinker with an engine here and there?"

Thankful for the new directional focus, John's face lit up theatrically. "Ummm, no sir, not really. Was never much of a grease monkey."

"Done any diving?" Jack moved straight on without following up Sheppard's reply ... he could always go back to it later.

"Umm, yes Sir ... some," John blurted out, surprised there was no lingering like before. He suddenly felt like he was playing hopscotch instead of Big Step, Little Step.

"Yeah?" Jack reacted as though surprised. "How deep you been?"

"Probably not as deep as I am right now..." John muttered, realizing he'd stepped in it. "Umm... I'm just a recreational diver, Sir. I've towed the limit at 130 feet ... 40 meters, Sir. That would be the absolute depth limit though; the recommended is 100 feet or 30 meters. I sometimes push the limits of endurance. Mine ... and others," John added biting back a dark grin.

"Nothing wrong with that son," Jack returned, grinning. "I'm sure the situation called for it ... some of the time. Diving's a buzz sure but I always preferred downhill myself."

John's eyes lit up like a kid who found the biggest gift under the tree had his name on it. "You ski, Sir?" he asked with a bit of exhilaration.

"I'm from Minnesota Colonel - everybody skis," O'Neill quipped. "Not that I don't get a certain thrill out of a really good black diamond run. I'm guessing from your reaction that you've done some skiing yourself ... probably not in Minnesota though, right?"

John smiled with a mischievous crooked grin. "I've been known to grace the slopes myself. Gave me something fun to do while at McMurdo too," he added. "Do you surf, Sir?"

"Not in a long time," Jack replied. "Bad knees. Nah, my free time these days is mostly spent looking at the stars ... trying to work out how many of them I've actually been to. You like astronomy?"

"Yes, Sir, sure do," Sheppard relied. "How can you be a galaxy hopper without finding some fascination in all those bright spots of light in the distance? Heck, I find myself in awe just looking up at the two moons we got over us here."

"Indeed," O'Neill replied. "I can't count how many times Colonel Carter tried to explain the physics to me but I never understood it ... that kinda mumbo jumbo just spoils the mystery. Hell, I'm still stuck on her 'a wormhole is like an apple' analogy." Casting a relaxed, curious look at John, the General queried. "McKay ever pull that crap on you?"

"Sure he has," John grinned. "But I think the analogy would be 'the universe is like an apple and the wormhole is like the tunnel of a worm as it moves through the apple'... which is why we call it a wormhole to begin with." John paused and sighed lightly realizing he didn't want to bore the general.

"That sounds remarkably like how Carter explained it," Jack shrugged as if he was still in the dark in terms of understanding. "And I suppose you understand all that other ... geek stuff they're always spouting? Quantum physics. Multiverse theory. Edna's totem function. All sounds like Greek to me."

John grinned at the general's funny mispronunciation and politely corrected him. "That would be Euler's totient function, Sir."

"That's it!" Jack said, snapping his fingers like he hadn't deliberately screwed up the pronunciation ... 'Edna' being Mrs Krabappel from the Simpsons. Maybe Sheppard didn't watch the Simpsons. "And what was that again?" he asked innocently.

"Well, basically, it's a number theory that gives you the number of positive integers less than or equal to a value that are coprime with that value," Sheppard had fixed his gaze out the window and his eyes seemed to focus very far away; something that had been noted by Dr. McKay during their first year in Atlantis whenever John had one of his mathematical epiphanies, although John was unaware of zoning out.

When he stopped talking he took a long deep breath and blinked rapidly. Looking around the room briefly he then looked back at Jack as if slightly dazed. He copped another expression of slight oblivion and gave O'Neill the "duh?" look.

"Yeah, that'd be the one," Jack said in all seriousness, ignoring Sheppard’s attempt to bring the 'dumb' back to his facade as he dropped his own. "The same one strangely that our attacker used to control the console overload."

"What?" John replied, stunned. His mouth opened a bit in stunned surprise. He'd walked right into that one.

"How many people do you think there are on this base with that kind of knowledge of algorithm number theory Colonel?" Jack asked.

John just looked at him like a kicked puppy. He felt like he was having trouble breathing even though his chest was moving in and out. "I ... I don't know. A lot?" he answered feeling the bottom fall out of his world.

"A lot," Jack echoed. "Right. Just because you knew what that function was doesn't make you guilty Sheppard." Jack looked at the other man in frustration. "And if you weren't so defensive right now I could have just asked you if you knew it instead of having to trick it out of you!"

Sighing, O'Neill slumped back in his chair and considered the younger man ... who reminded him too much of himself at times ... like right now. Perhaps it was time to take a chance - show his real hand instead of the one everyone thought he'd been dealt and was betting on. If Jack made it clear where his mind stood maybe Sheppard would follow suit. "It's time to lay your cards on the table John," O'Neill said purposefully, "because suspecting you is getting in the way of catching the real culprit!"

John blinked at him and then leaned forward a bit. "You mean, I really am a suspect? I thought it was just... ya' know, the rumor mill spinning it's fins. I'm really a suspect?"

"What did you expect?" Jack asked in exasperation. "Every incident you were either nearby or on the scene behaving strangely ... and you've got the skills to be behind every one of them."

"And just when was I supposed to have done all this?" Sheppard asked, pointing out the most obvious of his alibis. "My duty shifts are all logged, my whereabouts are ... mostly ... known. When I was on the Hammond getting the grand tour, Mitchell was with me! Every second, except when I needed to use the head. When was I supposed to plant TWO bombs on that ship? And I'm not entirely sure because I haven't been allowed access to any of the lab results, but I got a pretty good look at the balcony railing and it looked like a corrosive was used on that metal ... all of our hazardous materials are in the Haz Storage Bay and nothing is removed from there without being signed out with permission from the authorized HazMat Tech or Spec on duty there. So that corrosive was either brought into Atlantis as contraband or we need to really scope out the HazMat Team."

"We don't have any witnesses Colonel," O'Neill pointed out. "Are you saying you couldn't set something up without anyone being the wiser ... if you needed to?"

"I didn't do these things, Sir," Sheppard said. "I would never purposely bring such a dark shadow over this city or the expedition members ... or myself. Not to mention on the heels of Dr. Weir's return."

"I never thought you did," General O'Neill said simply. "And I'm sure that most everybody else feels the same. Whoever is behind this has spent a great deal of time implicating you ... tying up our investigative resources following up leads I know will only lead to you. I know it's a difficult position to be in Colonel but I need you to continue as you are, being the focus of suspicion. Our culprit needs to believe that I'm looking where they're pointing ... with any luck they'll get careless and do something when they think my attention is on you."

John leaned forward in his chair. Resting his elbows on his knees he then put his face in his hands for a moment as he listened to General O'Neill. When Jack finished, John sat very still and then scrubbed his hands over his face before leaning back again to look at the General. He regarded him silently for a moment, obviously thinking about the pros and cons of being held in suspicion by those around him, but realized that anything "good for the overall community was a good thing". He nodded with a long exhalation. "Okay. I can do that. I'll just ... keep acting suspicious. It would actually be easier if I knew how I did it the first time." He grinned with the irony.

"If you weren't trying to be suspicious before now then I guess ... just act natural," Jack returned. "We'll assume our attacker will continue to take advantage of that and I'll continue to make it look like we're investigating you. Should be easy Sheppard."

"Okie dokie," John replied and hopped up from the chair, pausing long enough to add, "Sir." He turned and swaggered to the door and turned to give O'Neill one final glance and flashed a quick grin.

Sheppard headed out trying to figure out how he was supposed to act suspicious as he went looking for Elizabeth to see how she was faring through all this. When he reached her office door, a tech walked by and he quickly chose to study the tall potted plant decorating the corner beside Weir's office door. Shooting a glance over his shoulder he then moved to chime her door as the tech tossed him a retreating glance and furrowed her brow at him.

On to Part 4