Chapter Text

Chapter 14: The Wraith Attack

"Wraith dart on approach! All personnel to designated security positions!" The announcement echoed through Atlantis's corridors as emergency lights pulsed in urgent rhythm. The peaceful moment Cheppy and Lorne had shared on the balcony just minutes ago now seemed like a distant dream.

In the control room, organized chaos reigned. Colonel Sheppard barked orders while Dr. Weir coordinated with department heads to secure non-military personnel. Major Lorne, despite his healing shoulder, stood at the tactical display, his expression grim but focused.

"We're tracking just one dart," announced the technician monitoring the sensors. "Unusual flight pattern—it's not making a direct approach."

"Could be a scout," Sheppard said, eyes narrowed. "Or a diversion."

"Southern pier's energy signature is fluctuating wildly," McKay called from his station, fingers flying across his tablet. "Whatever's happening out there, it's responding to the dart's presence."

Cheppy moved to McKay's side, studying the Ancient characters scrolling across his screen. "That's not random fluctuation," she realized, recognizing patterns in the data. "It's a communication protocol."

McKay's head snapped up. "What?"

"These symbol sequences—they follow Ancient communication syntax," she explained, pointing to specific patterns. "It's like... like the system is exchanging information with the dart."

"That's impossible," McKay scoffed. "Wraith technology isn't compatible with Ancient systems."

"Unless they've adapted," Weir suggested, joining their conversation. "We know the Wraith have been evolving their technology."

Before anyone could respond, the entire city shuddered, lights flickering momentarily.

"What was that?" Sheppard demanded.

"The dart fired on the southern pier!" the tactical officer reported. "Direct hit on the energy source we've been monitoring."

"And now we've got multiple dart signatures appearing at the edge of our sensor range," another technician announced, tension evident in her voice. "A lot of them."

"Raise the shield," Weir ordered. "Colonel Sheppard—"

"Already on it," he replied, moving toward the door. "I'll take Jumper One and a marine squad to intercept."

"Major Lorne, coordinate defensive positions throughout the city," Weir continued. "Dr. McKay, I need to know what that system on the southern pier was communicating to the Wraith."

"On it," McKay replied, already gathering equipment. He glanced at Cheppy. "Mitchell, with me. I need someone who can read Ancient on the fly."

Lorne caught Cheppy's eye across the room, concern evident in his gaze despite his professional demeanor. "Be careful," he said simply.

She nodded, the memory of their kiss still warm despite the crisis unfolding around them. "You too."

As McKay and Cheppy hurried toward the nearest transporter, the citywide comm system crackled with urgent reports. The lone dart had somehow penetrated Atlantis's perimeter before the shield activated, and was now weaving between the city's towers, evading defensive fire.

"Why doesn't it just start culling?" Cheppy asked as they stepped into the transporter.

"Because culling isn't its mission," McKay replied grimly, selecting the southern pier on the destination map. "It's after something specific."

The transporter deposited them in a dimly lit corridor deep within the previously unexplored section of Atlantis. Emergency lighting cast eerie shadows along the ancient walls, and the distant sound of weapons fire echoed through the structure.

"This way," McKay directed, consulting his tablet. "The energy signature is coming from a chamber about two hundred meters ahead."

They moved cautiously through the unfamiliar territory, McKay's attention split between his readings and their surroundings. Cheppy kept pace, her hand occasionally brushing the sidearm Lorne had insisted she start carrying after their encounter with the Genii.

"The energy readings are increasing," McKay murmured as they approached an ornate doorway. Ancient script adorned the frame—complex, formal symbols that Cheppy immediately recognized as warning markers.

"Wait," she said, catching McKay's arm as he reached for the door control. "These inscriptions—they're quarantine notifications."

"Quarantine?" McKay's brow furrowed. "For what?"

Cheppy studied the symbols, translating as quickly as she could. "It says something about 'interdimensional containment' and 'reality fracture healing.'"

McKay's eyes widened. "That's it!" he exclaimed. "The system must be detecting—"

The ceiling above them exploded in a shower of debris and sparks as the Wraith dart blasted through the outer wall of the corridor. Cheppy barely had time to register McKay shoving her clear before a section of ceiling collapsed, separating them in a cloud of dust and rubble.

"McKay!" she coughed, struggling to see through the haze.

"I'm okay!" his voice came from the other side of the debris. "But I'm cut off from the chamber. You need to get in there and shut down whatever's drawing the Wraith!"

"How am I supposed to do that?" she called back, panic edging into her voice.

"You're the Ancient expert!" McKay shouted. "Figure it out! I'll try to find another way around!"

The comm system crackled to life in her ear. "Dr. Mitchell, come in." Lorne's voice was steady despite the tension evident behind it.

"I'm here," she replied, relief flooding through her at the sound of his voice. "McKay and I are separated. There's been a cave-in near the energy source chamber."

"I'm tracking your position," he responded. "Reinforcements are on the way, but they're encountering heavy resistance. The dart brought friends—we have Wraith inside the city."

Cheppy's blood ran cold. "What do you want me to do?"

"McKay's right—you need to reach that chamber," Lorne said, his tone shifting to professional focus. "Whatever's in there is what they're after. Can you get inside?"

She examined the doorway, which remained intact despite the destruction around it. "I think so. The door has Ancient script—it looks like a specialized access protocol."

"If anyone can figure it out, it's you," Lorne said, confidence evident in his voice. "I'll guide you as best I can from here."

Drawing strength from his faith in her, Cheppy approached the doorway. The script was unlike the typical Ancient door controls—more elaborate, more specialized. She brushed dust from the central panel, revealing a complex array of symbols.

"It's asking for authentication," she reported, studying the interface. "But it's an unusual dialect—older, more formal than what we typically see in Atlantis."

"Like the script on that journal?" Lorne asked, making a connection to Elera's journal that he'd given her weeks ago.

"Exactly," she confirmed, heart quickening as she recognized patterns from her extensive study of that text. "I think I can work with this."

As Cheppy began the painstaking process of deciphering the access protocol, the sounds of battle grew closer. Weapons fire echoed through adjacent corridors, punctuated by the distinctive whine of Wraith stunners.

"Mitchell, status update," Lorne's voice came through the comm, underlying tension betraying his concern.

"Almost there," she replied, fingers tracing specific symbol sequences. "It's a complex authentication system—something about 'reality gatekeepers' and 'dimensional oversight.'"

"Whatever it is, hurry," he urged. "We've got Wraith converging on your position."

The final symbol clicked into place under her touch, and the ancient door slid open with a resonant hum. Cheppy stepped through into a chamber unlike anything she'd seen in Atlantis before.

The circular room was dominated by a central pillar of pulsing blue-white energy that rose from floor to ceiling. Around it stood eight console stations, each displaying holographic Ancient text that scrolled and shifted in mesmerizing patterns. The air itself seemed charged, tingling against her skin.

"I'm in," she reported, awestruck. "It's... incredible. Some kind of control center, but different from anything we've seen before."

"What's generating the energy signature?" Lorne asked, all business despite the wonder in her voice.

Cheppy approached the nearest console, eyes tracking the flowing Ancient script. "It's a dimensional monitoring station," she realized, excitement momentarily overriding fear. "The Ancients were studying different types of interdimensional travel—both natural tears in reality and artificially created portals throughout Pegasus."

"Like the device that brought you here," Lorne observed, making the connection instantly.

"Exactly," she breathed, the implications staggering. "This system tracks dimensional anomalies and portal activations across the galaxy. It must have detected the energy signature when McKay's experiment pulled me through months ago, but only recently activated fully in response."

"Why would the Wraith be interested in that?" Lorne wondered.

Before Cheppy could respond, a thunderous explosion rocked the corridor outside. Through the still-open doorway, she could see Wraith drones advancing, firing steadily at the marine squad attempting to hold them back.

"They're almost here," she reported, fear clutching at her throat. "What do I do?"

"Find a way to shut it down," Lorne instructed, his voice tense. "The Wraith can't be allowed to access that kind of technology. If they could create their own dimensional portals—"

"They could cull across realities," Cheppy finished, the horrifying possibility crystallizing in her mind. "Billions of humans who've never heard of the Wraith—helpless."

Her fingers flew across the console, translating commands on the fly. The system was complex, but followed logical Ancient protocols she'd studied. "I think I can initiate a shutdown sequence, but it'll take time to power down safely."

"Time we don't have," Lorne replied grimly. "Security teams are being pushed back. You need to—"

His voice cut off as the comm system went dead, the thunderous impact of another explosion vibrating through the floor. Through the doorway, Cheppy could see the marines falling back, several already down. The corridor filled with Wraith drones, commanded by a male officer whose facial tattoos marked him as a high-ranking warrior.

Heart racing, Cheppy searched frantically for options. The system was too valuable to destroy completely—the knowledge it contained about interdimensional travel might someday help her return home. But she couldn't let it fall into Wraith hands.

A solution flashed into her mind—risky, but possible. Her fingers danced across the console, initiating a specialized protocol she'd encountered in her studies of Ancient emergency procedures.

"Access granted: temporal suspension initiated," announced the system in flowing Ancient text.

The blue-white energy pillar pulsed brighter, expanding outward to encompass the entire chamber just as the first Wraith drone reached the doorway. An invisible barrier flared at the threshold, halting the drone's advance. He snarled, firing his stunner directly at Cheppy. The energy blast dissipated harmlessly against the barrier.

"Containment field established," the system continued. "Dimensional quarantine in effect."

Cheppy stared at the Wraith through the shimmering barrier, heart pounding but momentarily safe. She'd activated the Ancient equivalent of a panic room—a temporal suspension field that isolated the chamber from normal space-time. Nothing could get in... or out.

"Temporal integrity failing in lower quadrants," the system suddenly announced, red symbols flashing across the holographic displays. "Breach detected in sectors 7 through 12."

The barrier flickered at the doorway, its blue energy turning unstable. The Wraith officer smiled coldly, recognizing the shield's imminent failure. Beyond him, in the corridor, Cheppy caught glimpses of continued fighting—marines holding position at the far end, but clearly outnumbered.

Her comm crackled back to life, cutting through with emergency priority. "Mitchell!" Lorne's voice, urgent. "If you can hear me, we've lost contact with your section. Colonel Sheppard is inbound with reinforcements, but they're still five minutes out. Whatever you're going to do, do it now!"

The temporal barrier fluctuated again, allowing one of the Wraith drones to push partially through before being repelled. The system's warnings intensified, red symbols multiplying across the displays.

Cheppy made a split-second decision. Racing to the central console, she initiated a different protocol—one she'd discovered in her studies of Ancient emergency measures. "Emergency phase shift," she commanded in Ancient, her pronunciation perfect after months of study.

"Command accepted," the system responded. "Phase shift in three... two... one..."

The energy pillar pulsed blindingly bright, expanding to fill the entire chamber. Cheppy felt a sensation like being pulled inside out—similar to her original journey through dimensions, but briefer and somehow more controlled. The world around her blurred, then reassembled.

When her vision cleared, she was still in the same chamber, but the Wraith were gone. So was the evidence of battle in the corridor beyond. The lighting was different—softer, amber-hued rather than the harsh emergency red.

"Phase shift complete," announced the system. "Chamber has been removed from primary temporal stream. Calculating dimensional coordinates."

Cheppy realized what she'd done—she'd shifted the entire chamber slightly out of phase with normal reality, effectively removing it and herself from Atlantis's timestream. The Wraith couldn't access the technology because it no longer existed in their dimensional plane.

"Oh god," she whispered, the implications hitting her. "I've trapped myself."

The system continued its calculations, Ancient symbols streaking across the displays too fast to read. Finally, it announced: "Temporal variance detected. Chamber will realign with primary timestream in approximately 6.2 hours."

Relief flooded through her—the situation wasn't permanent. She just needed to wait for the phase shift to naturally decay, returning the chamber to normal space-time after the Wraith had been dealt with.

Her comm was silent—unsurprising, since she now existed slightly out of phase with the rest of Atlantis. She was alone, but safe, and so was the Ancient technology. For now.

Hours passed in solitude as Cheppy explored the chamber's systems, learning more about interdimensional physics than she'd ever thought possible. The Ancient database contained detailed information about the very phenomenon that had brought her to Pegasus—information that might someday help her return home, if she wanted to.

The thought gave her pause. Did she want to return? Months ago, the answer would have been an immediate yes. Now, though...

Her thoughts drifted to Lorne—to the kiss they'd shared on the balcony, to the promise of something deeper developing between them. To Carson's friendship and mentorship, to her growing role within the expedition. To the sense of purpose she'd found here that had eluded her on Earth.

Before she could follow that train of thought further, the system announced: "Temporal realignment commencing. Phase shift reversal in three... two... one..."

The energy pillar pulsed once more, and the strange inside-out sensation returned briefly. When it passed, the chamber's lighting had changed back to Atlantis standard. Through the doorway, she could see marines standing guard, weapons ready but no Wraith in sight.

"Temporal realignment complete," the system confirmed. "Chamber has returned to primary timestream."

"Dr. Mitchell!" one of the marines called, spotting her through the doorway. "She's here! The Major was right!"

Cheppy stepped cautiously out of the chamber, legs wobbly after her dimensional experience. "What happened with the Wraith?"

"Repelled, ma'am," the marine replied, already speaking into his radio to report her reappearance. "Colonel Sheppard's team drove them back, and the shield prevented reinforcements from arriving. But you've been missing for over six hours. Major Lorne has been coordinating search teams throughout this entire section."

"I wasn't missing," she tried to explain. "I was phase-shifted—existing just slightly out of sync with your reality. It was the only way to protect the technology."

The marine looked confused but nodded respectfully. "If you say so, ma'am." He spoke into his radio again. "Sir, we've found Dr. Mitchell. Yes, sir. Understood."

He turned back to Cheppy. "Major Lorne's on his way. He hasn't stopped searching since the attack was contained. Refused to even take a break, despite Colonel Sheppard's orders."

At the mention of Lorne, Cheppy felt a surge of anticipation. Before she could ask anything further, rapid footsteps echoed down the corridor. Lorne appeared, disheveled and exhausted but moving with purpose. When he saw her, he stopped abruptly, relief washing over his features.

"Cheppy," he breathed, closing the distance between them in a few long strides.

Without hesitation, he pulled her into a tight embrace, his arms wrapping around her with a desperation that spoke volumes. For a moment they simply held each other, both trembling slightly with the release of fear and tension.

"I thought I'd lost you," he murmured against her hair, his voice rough with emotion. "When you disappeared and we couldn't reach you... and then the Wraith..."

"I'm okay," she assured him, her own voice unsteady. "I had to phase-shift the chamber to keep the technology from the Wraith. It took me out of normal time temporarily."

Lorne pulled back slightly, his eyes searching her face as if to confirm she was really there. One hand came up to gently brush a smudge of dust from her cheek. "Out of time for six hours? Do you have any idea what that was like for me?"

The raw emotion in his voice made her heart clench. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I didn't have time to explain—there were Wraith breaking through the barrier, and the system was failing, and I just... I had to make a choice."

"You made the right one," he said firmly. "You protected the technology and yourself. That's what matters." His hands were still on her shoulders, as if afraid she might disappear again if he let go. "But next time, a little warning would be nice."

Despite everything, Cheppy found herself smiling. "I'll try to schedule my dimensional crises more considerately in the future."

The joke broke the tension, and Lorne's expression softened into something warmer, more intimate. For a moment, it seemed he might kiss her, despite the presence of the marines tactfully pretending not to notice their reunion.

Instead, he took a small step back, though his eyes never left hers. "We should get you to the infirmary. Standard protocol after... whatever it is you just experienced."

"I feel fine," she protested. "Just a little disoriented."

"Humor me," he replied, the concern in his eyes making it impossible to refuse. "Carson will want to check you out anyway. And Weir and Sheppard are going to want a full debriefing."

As they walked toward the transporter, Lorne kept close to her side, occasionally touching her elbow or the small of her back, as if reassuring himself of her solid presence. The marines followed at a discreet distance, giving them as much privacy as possible under the circumstances.

"The chamber," Cheppy said as they waited for the transporter. "It's a dimensional monitoring station. It contains data about interdimensional travel, including the kind that brought me here."

Lorne's step faltered, understanding dawning in his eyes. "You mean it might have information about how to send you back?"

"Possibly," she acknowledged, watching his reaction carefully. "It's going to take time to analyze the data, but... yes, it might."

A series of emotions flickered across his face—surprise, concern, and something that looked remarkably like fear. But his voice remained steady when he asked, "Is that what you want? To go back?"

The question hung in the air between them, weighted with implications neither had fully voiced before now. Cheppy thought of the world she'd left behind—familiar but unfulfilling, where she'd been struggling to find purpose. Then she thought of Atlantis, with all its dangers and wonders. Of the place she'd carved out for herself here. Of the man standing before her, waiting for her answer with carefully contained hope in his eyes.

"No," she said simply, the truth of it settling into her bones. "Not anymore. My life is here now."

The relief that washed over Lorne's features was unmistakable. He reached for her hand, squeezing it gently. "Good," he said softly. "Because I'm not ready to say goodbye to you, Dr. Mitchell."

The transporter doors opened, but neither moved immediately, caught in the moment of understanding between them.

"I'm not going anywhere, Major Lorne," she replied, returning the pressure of his hand. "Except maybe to the infirmary, if you're going to be stubborn about it."

His laugh was low and warm as they stepped into the transporter. "Stubborn doesn't begin to cover it. I just spent six hours searching for you—I'm not letting you out of my sight anytime soon."

"Is that a promise?" she asked, surprising herself with her boldness.

Lorne's eyes darkened with emotion as the transporter doors closed. "Count on it."

In the aftermath of chaos, in the wake of fear and danger, Cheppy had found something precious—not just in Lorne, but in herself. The woman who had arrived in Atlantis terrified and alone had become someone stronger, braver, more certain of her own worth.

And that woman, Dr. Chephren Mitchell, had found her home among the stars.