At last, I actually have the time to write again (And the other fanfic shall be finished shortly, then this will have my full attention). Apologies for the abscence. With thanks to my beta readers, who didn't notice that I had Sheppard as a lieutenant colonel - wait, why'm I thanking them, they suck!

Nah, seriously, thanks guys.
Chapter 3 – Meetings
Commander McCoy sighed slightly as he stepped onto the platform of the matter transportation system. He’d always said this was a reprehensible invention, but he had to admit, it had its uses. From the amount of anti-aircraft emplacements he’d seen being set up on the display of the ‘city’ they were bound for, he doubted he would feel any safer in a shuttle-craft, this time.
‘Scotty’ and one of the few crewmembers he couldn’t identify (he’d have to book the man in for a physical) worked at the transporter’s controls, “Right,” he said, “We’ve got a good lock now. It’s amazing how few people there are down there captain” he added, with his thick Scottish accent, “Some odd materials in the ceilings, but nothing to impede the transporter,” he added.
“Damn,” McCoy said, under his breath, “just when I was thinking I might get out of it.”
The Captain joined the ship’s surgeon on the pad, along with two security officers, busily checking their sidearms and one of the ship’s extensive complement of tactical advisors. The captain gave a nod to Scotty, and McCoy busied himself suppressing his transporter-agoraphobia as someone had recently called it – (‘I’m fine with open spaces,’ he’d said, ‘I just don’t like being one.’) as a strange tingling sensation swept over him.
The comfortable space of the Enterprise’s transporter room disappeared and was replaced with an intricate window of hundreds of different pieces of glass. They stood on a stairway, with steps leading upwards to galleries on either side of them and a longer flight down to a floor below, which lead to a massive ring of what appeared to be a dull blue metal. “Well, this clearly wasn’t built by them,” McCoy said to the captain, whispering.
A small gaggle of technicians were busily prodding at what appeared to be optical computer crystals under a console that appeared to be designed for communications. To an extent, many communications terminals looked similar. They mostly looked similar, in Kirk’s experience, and usually worked – after a point – on the same principles, a convergence of technologies and logical signal formats for subspace radio transmission – the federation only knew of a few logically arranged signal formats that worked well for two dimensional transmission. Though he didn’t know it, it also helped that the Atlanetan technology was highly adaptive even to unfamiliar formats, which was, even with Doctor McKay’s heroic efforts at integrating Earth technology..
Kirk nodded, taking in the various looks of astonishment he was given from around the hall, “This is… strange,” he said quietly to his friend, before venturing a “Hello.” He could see the woman identified as Doctor Weir walk out of an office off one of the galleries, and join in the strange stare, though she, commendably, managed to keep it to a few seconds of incredulity.
“Captain,” she said, stammering a little, “this way please.”
Major John Sheppard leaned over to McKay, sitting behind a strangely industrial conference table that had been left by the builders of the city, the mysterious Ancients, as a man who seemed to be the twin of William Shatner – a little younger, with marginally better hair – settled himself down in the opposite chair. “This is surreal…” he whispered.
“Yeah, I can see that,” the scientist said. He looked at Colonel Everett, who’d yet to sit down, seeming too concerned occasionally snapping orders into his radio, and then to Doctor Weir, theoretically no-longer in command. As she was pulling her jacket straight after sitting down, McKay’s willpower failed. “Right,” he said, “It hasn’t worked. I hate to tell you this, but Captain Kirk is fictional, you’re not fooling anyone! Who are you then?” he had concluded that they weren’t Wraith, as that would be pointless. The Wraith were on the verge of driving them off Atlantis anyway. And he doubted the Wraith were desperate enough to vaporise one of their own starships – yet.
“He looks real enough to me,” McCoy said, smirking a little, pretending not to be amused by the accusation that he was a figment of someone’s imagination.
“Yeah, it’s a very good Shatner look-alike effect…”
“Shatner?” asked Kirk, cutting McKay off, before Doctor Weir in turn cut him off.
“I think we’re getting ahead of ourselves… Rodney. Please sit down.”
“I’m not accusing them of anything,” McKay said, “We’ve seen life-forms that have impersonated dead people before, so why not fictional ones. But…”
“Rodney…” she repeated, with a pointed glare.
“Fine,” the ancient-computer specialist said, kicking his feet out and dropping back into the chair – this one of Earth vintage – with a ‘clump’ that made it give out an exasperated little pneumatic sigh and caused its castor-wheels to protest a little with rattles as the chair shifted back before its occupant arrested its motion with his feet. He assumed a pout that would put most five year olds to shame, and crossed his arms. It took him a moment to realise how childish this looked, and he pointedly uncrossed his arms.
“My apologies for the lack of introductions gentlemen,” Weir said, “I am of course, Doctor Elizabeth Weir, this is,” she gestured casually, on familiar ground once more – the patter of diplomacy, “Doctor Rodney McKay, the chief scientist here. Colonel Dillon Everett, United States Marine Corps, who’s here to direct our defence, and Major John Sheppard, head of our normal military contingent.”
“Right, as you seem to know us, in a way, I assure you, Doctor McKay,” McCoy twitched a little as Kirk said it, “that we are who we claim to be. I
am Captain James T Kirk, this is Doctor Leonard McCoy, and this is Lieutenant Justin Richards.”
“Okay…” Weir said, a little hesitantly, “let’s assume that’s so. Can you tell us how you got here?”
“No,” Kirk said, “some sort of rip… in the fabric of space-time. I could try and explain, but we really don’t know what caused it. Our ship, the
Enterprise was breaking orbit over Earth, and we were pulled through as we engaged our war- main engines.”
McKay frowned, a very unpleasant idea forming in his head, related to the laws of conservation “Did you see anything go back the other way?”
Kirk nodded, “We detected another ship being displaced towards Earth, through the rift. A rather boxy configuration.”
The frown deepened a little, and McKay grabbed a pad of paper, and took a pen from one of his pockets, and began sketching something very roughly, with short, quick lines, depicting a blunt nosed object, with two nacelles, each with doors on them. After a moment, he held it up, “Did it look anything like this?”
Kirk nodded.
“Oh crap,” McKay said, at last.
“What is that?” Sheppard asked, the sinking feeling McKay had in the deep, caffeine consuming, well of his stomach growing.
“The Daedalus,” McKay said, “the Zed Pee Emm must have malfunctioned somehow when they tried to activate the hyperdrive… Wherever they,” he nodded to the Captain’s side of the table, “come from, and I don’t even want to try and think up an explanation for that, the Daedalus went there, and they were transferred here…”
“Why?” asked Sheppard.
“It’s complicated. Just think of it as…” he said, searching for terms that Sheppard would understand, “recoil.”
“Right.”
“Did you just say the Daedalus isn’t coming?” Colonel Everett demanded.
McKay rolled his eyes, “Yes!” he said, exasperatedly, “Here,” he took the pen to his pad of paper once more, and wrote, in large letters ‘not coming’ under the sketch, then spun in his chair to face the Colonel, held the paper up, and affected an exaggerated grin.
“I see,” the marine said, pointedly ignoring the antics of the civvie scientist, “this changes things.”
“Excuse me, but, and I don’t mean to distract you from your very important bickering,” McCoy said, “but we did come here to try and find out why we were attacked…”
“Right,” Weir said, smiling a little, she had to remember that particular put-down for use next time Rodney’s badinage became unmanageable. “The race that attacked you are called ‘the Wraith’ they’re the dominant force in this galaxy. They’re an aggressive life-form that lives by consuming the life-force of humans. They want to take this city because they believe they can use it to get to Earth and the Milky Way, which will provide adequate feeding grounds for their numbers, which can’t be supported by the ‘fodder’ in this galaxy.”
“Not too bright, and their ships aren’t that scary, but they themselves are annoyingly hard to kill…” Sheppard added.
Kirk nodded, absorbing this information, “They dominate this galaxy? How long have humans been here for them to feed on?”
“Well over ten millennia. The ancients, the people who built this city, seeded this galaxy with human civilisations.”
Kirk nodded, that at least, made sense. The Preservers had seeded humans over countless planets, and many speculated that there was a common ancestor of humans, vulcans and klingons, and perhaps more races besides. He was back on familiar territory. He had basic background, and it looked unlikely that there was a better option for his crew than combining forces with these Earthlings. “Any idea how many of these Wraith starships there are?”
“Over sixty in this quadrant of the galaxy,” McKay said, “but that’s just the big ones – hive-ships – I’d guess a few hundred cruisers. So, I’d estimate, in total, around two hundred and forty hive ships, and almost a thousand cruisers.
And the chances of simply overcoming these ‘Wraiths’ by force were now looking pretty remote too. “Right, so, they’ve sent an attack force to engage you, how do you plan to defend yourselves?”
“Ah, so, this is your plan?” McKay demanded, “pretend to be our allies and then attack us?”
The
Enterprise’s surgeon sighed, “No, our plan is to try and survive as we’re apparently stuck here. Anyway, keep your secrets, it’ll just make it harder for us to work together. Answer me something else instead. How did you get here?”
“We came via the stargate,” Everett said.
“That’s the ring shaped device,” McKay added, more familiar with Star Trek than Everett, knowing an explanation would be needed, “outside. It works kind of like a transporter, but squirts the matter-stream through a microscopic wormhole…” He broke off into a laugh at Commander McCoy’s reaction, a frown that told of biting back an expression of horror.
“Now that is interesting,” the captain said, laying his hands on the table, “I have seen the idea proposed but never any practical implementation. I take it you didn’t build this place,” he said, stating the obvious.
“No, this city was built by a race we call the Ancients, the builders of the stargate network. They seeded most planets in this galaxy and our own with stargates, to allow easy interplanetary transport for themselves and others.”
Kirk nodded, impressed by the scope of the idea - new worlds in a single step – even if it would be accompanied by mutterings of malcontent from McCoy. It was a fascinating idea, but he felt he had to bring the conversation back on topic. There’d be time to learn more after they defeated these Wraiths, “But anyway, how do we convince you that we are who we say we are?”
“I know,” put in McKay, snapping his fingers, “the alien detector…”
“I’m not sure I trust that thing,” said Doctor Weir.
Lieutenant Richards spoke up, “Well, you people can administer blood tests, no? Wouldn’t that tell you that we’re not Wraith?”
“Right,” said Weir, acutely aware that if… Kirk, she paused for a moment to consider that she was already accepting this story, wanted to destroy the city, he’d have little difficulty doing so, and if he wanted to take the city, transporting its guards into space would be a quite adequate strategy for doing so. And besides, the Wraith had already attacked Kirk’s ship...
She touched the microphone/earpiece assembly she wore, “Doctor Beckett… Prepare to receive our guests. I want you to administer basic blood tests to check their species.”
After a moment, his reply crackled into her ear, “Please,” she said, rising, “This way please. Colonel, major, - I think Rodney and I can manage this bit alone, and I’m sure you both have work to be doing that requires your attention…”
The preparations for the defence of Atlantis continued, with dozens of marines and air force setting up heavy anti-air batteries around the balconies of the city’s central tower, and preparing machine guns and other arms for the action everyone knew was impending. The enemy were at the door, and they needed to invade the city.
But they had quite a surprise coming if they thought that they would take Atlantis easily. The wraith were advanced technologically, but for ten millennia they’d done little but prey on those who were unable to defend themselves, and destroy those who were approaching a level that could rise to threaten them. Their technological superiority was not always a match for determination and experience…
Nor did it always match bravery.
In the Atlantis medical bay, McCoy could barely drag himself away from the apparently crude instruments, busy examining wraith tissue samples. “These scanners are actually quite sophisticated,” he said, after a few minutes of analysis of the tissue sample, “better than I’d have suspected.”
“Yeah,” his counterpart said, “upgrades from the stargate programme… aaannd you’re humans.”
“Right,” McCoy said, strafing his chair over to a more advanced terminal, part of the original set-up, taking a moment to guess at the meanings of the symbols before putting the tissue sample into a slot and bringing up a display in a strange alien text, he’d have to see about getting it translated, “Are you going to at least half-trust us now?”
At that moment, a chirruping noise distracted McCoy’s attention, and he looked towards the captain, who was retrieving his communicator from his belt, flipping the golden object open with a practiced flourish. “Kirk here,” he said.
“Captain,” Spock said through the subspace radio, “it appears that a number of shuttles have launched from the city, carrying nuclear weapons of some form. We are unable to track them further.”
Kirk raised an eyebrow, and Doctor Weir looked over, “Ah. We’re putting mines into orbit for when the wraith move their fleet in.”
“Right Spock,” Kirk said, “stand by,” he closed the communicator, “That’s not going to work,” he said.
“What?” asked McKay, “why not?”
“Space combat one oh one. Gravity wells are the low ground. If they detect your mines, they’ll just fire some rocks at them and set them off that way.”
“The mines are made of a stealth material.”
“We detected them.”
McKay blinked, “Good point…” he said, “I’ll get onto Major Sheppard about it,” he leaned back a little and stabbed at his wireless headset.