ETA: Thank you to springwoof who made very useful comments on the fic. I forgot to mention this late last night when I posted. Sorry.
“We have found it. We have found it,” Teyla Emmagan, leader of the Athosian Federation, breathed reverently.
“Indeed we have,” Ronon said, clutching the parchment map to his chest. His heavy set glasses slipped down his nose.
“Ladon.” Teyla approached the Genii scientist, who stood before his newly designed submarine. “Have you made any progress?”
“The submersible should allow us to reach The City.” He patted the grey hull, shiny in the morning sunlight. “I have based it on the designs the Traveller Larrin supplied us.”
Teyla could allow herself to scowl before her scientist. The Traveller was becoming annoying in her preening that without the Travellers this expedition would not have been mounted let alone become a success. This would be another string of ammunition that she would be planning to use in her future coup to take over Athosian Federation.
“If only My People would concentrate on the extermination of the threat that overhangs us rather than petty, malicious jealousy.” Teyla shook her head.
Ronon rose from his crouch beside Ladon. “The myths of the Ancestors say that The City will rise from the depths when the True Son sets foot upon it.”
“I think you’ll find that the Potentia will have more to do with that.” Ladon rubbed at his full beard.
“The Potentia is a rare artefact.” Ronon laid a possessive hand over the ceremonial casket that was to travel with them to The City.
“Legends and myths of the Ancestors have brought us to this stage,” Teyla pointed out. “We will continue. When will the submersible be ready, Ladon Radim?”
“This afternoon, Mistress.”
“The Potentia is in place. The City lives, yet many of the--” Ladon gestured at the array of indescribable around them, “--devices lie dormant.”
“The Line of Halling holds the blood of the Ancestors. His son, Apprentice Jinto, wields it. I will ask that the Pontiff releases him from his studies to join us.” Teyla’s eyes hardened. “They will acquiesce: We have found The City.”
“Perhaps,” her ever present shadow with his knowledge of Myths and Legends spoke, “he is the True Son?”
“I do not believe so, Ronon. Otherwise he would have joined us on this expedition.”
“Take her away. She does not even deserve the honour of a trial. Her deceit and machinations are pathetic.” Teyla threw the knife at Larrin’s feet. “You attempted to take the defeat of the Wraith from us.”
“The Wraith sleep at the moment. Every day you stand in The City -- playing -- brings the Wraith closer to us,” Larrin spat. “You said that we would find The City and take what we could scavenge. Not stay. We can live out our lives free of the Wraith.”
“And what of our children or our children’s children? Take her away.” Teyla waved her hand, casting her to justice. “I will not back down from this course of action. The Wraith merely sleep. They will return.”
“Mistress!” Hair wild and grimy, Ladon scuttled into the office that Teyla had taken for her own. Smiling smugly, the scholar followed. His eyes gleamed behind his thick rimmed glasses.
“Ronon has solved the cipher. Ronon has solved the cipher!” Ladon danced in a circle around her table. “We can find the Ancestors!”
Ronon had the honour of keying in the pattern to take them to the Ancestors. They would go and petition the Ancestors directly. And if the Ancestors would or could not help she would take her People through the Portal to safety.
All her People.
A whoosh and blue, comforting light illuminated the amber hall.
“Mistress.” Ladon bounced up and down on his toes. “The Ancestors’ Home.”
Ronon picked up his knapsack of books and parchments slinging it over his skinny shoulders. “Are we going?”
“Not so eager,” Teyla rebuked gently. “There is no doubt that the Ancestors have protected their home as they do The City. Ladon?”
Quivering, Ladon pressed the button which allowed communication across through the Ancestors’ portals. He nodded.
Teyla stepped forward, chin high. “This is Teyla Emmagan, Leader of the Athosian Federation. Ruler of Athos and Gen, Belkan, Belsa and Dagaan. Guardian, I would speak to the Ancestors.”
The water within the portal rippled gently.
“Hello?” The voice was tentative. “This is Stargate Command.”