Chapter 5

John sat down on the bench beside David and curled his hands around the back as he stared out the main observation window.

“I’ve missed you my whole life,” David murmured. “I don’t want to try to drown you in my grief, but there’s been a hole in my life that nothing and no one filled. I used to try to sleep on the floor in the nursery after Mattie was born so I could stand watch. It upset Mom so much, but I couldn’t help myself. Eventually, they just put us in the same room. I didn’t get my own room until I was in high school.”

“I don’t know how to make that better,” John confessed. “Rampart tells me that you’ve requested to be stationed with me.”

“Well, I doubt we’ll pry Matt off this ship any time soon. Boötes let him into aeronautics an hour ago,” David said. “And I want to get to know you, and the fight you want doesn’t put me off at all. I’ll be in a position to have your back regarding the Marines we get from Earth.”

“You’re due a promotion to colonel inside the next year,” John said. “Rampart said he’d make sure that the transfer didn’t derail that. Boötes and I discussed it, and he’s acknowledged that the men and women we get from Earth could be put off to take orders from him as XO.”

“I can’t say it wouldn’t, but they would follow the chain of command,” David said. “Were all Spartans Marines? Is that your preference?”

“No, we were a mixture of Marine and Navy,” John said. “I don’t care what branch of service the volunteers come from they just have to be a cut above.” He cleared his throat. “I don’t know what to do about Dad.”

“I never have either,” David admitted. “He’s been heartbroken as long as I’ve known enough to recognize it.” He exhaled sharply. “Sorry.”

“No, it’s true and I’d rather never be lied to. I hate that I can’t really fix that, and I hate that I can’t bring myself to go back to Earth so he can have me close as he clearly wants.”

“He’s not going to stay on Earth,” David said. “I think everyone knows it and they’re trying to figure out how let him work and keep him close to you. I think O’Neill will maneuver himself right back into Cheyenne Mountain because Landry is a problem that they’re all getting fed up with. POTUS certainly regrets letting the IOA push O’Neill out of the SGC as it hasn’t served our relationships off-world.”

“What do you think of Sumner?”

“I think he wishes he was on Earth, but he wants to hold the line with the Wraith because he’s got a family and grandchildren to worry about. He’s been divorced for a while so no wife waiting at home and the rumor is that he’s been sleeping with Elizabeth Weir since the first year of the expedition.”

“Not her and Grant?” John questioned. “They have some interesting body language going on.”

“She inspires protectiveness,” David said. “But, no, I heard that Thomas Grant is determined to remain basically unattached. You should know that Matt and Evan Lorne used to hook up, but that didn’t last long due to Lorne’s decision to join the Expedition. They’re not hostile about it—they just agreed that a galaxy apart was too much on the long distance front. I heard Lorne is banging a botanist on the city these days. Matt won’t get pissy about it—he’s pretty chill on the relationship front and considers jealousy a waste of time.”

John nodded. “You never married?”

“Never came close,” David admitted. “I can’t say I haven’t come across a woman or two that were tempting in some fashion or another. But I’ve focused on my career, and after I was recruited to the SGC a lot of my personal time evaporated.”

“A long term deep space mission on a ship with mostly military personnel won’t make that easy,” John said. “I’ve never tolerated that kind of fraternization.”

“No, me neither. It’s bad for morale, and the SGC is a bit too lenient on that front, if I’m honest. I don’t know how Sumner operates on Atlantis when comes to it but there are a lot of civilians so maybe it’s not an issue,” David said. “What about you? You said you didn’t leave a spouse behind? Was there anyone special?”

John shook his head. “My service really didn’t allow for it, and I was careful about who I slept with because there was some fetishism when it came to Spartans. I had a guy come at me in a bar one night, who knew who and what I was. Fucking Spartans was pretty high on his kink list, and he made no bones about it.”

“Gross,” David muttered.

“Yeah, regardless I was careful with it and I prefer men exclusively.” He paused. “Do you know if McKay is involved with anyone?”

“Nothing substantial lately, he’s bisexual though. He was dating a woman earlier in the year, but they split and she fucked off back to Earth because he wasn’t appropriately heartbroken by her dumping him.”

John laughed. “He doesn’t seem to be the sort to pout about a breakup.”

“No, he’s not but Dr. Brown was pretty sensitive to his lack of a give a fuck,” David said and relaxed back on his hands. “You’ve seen a lot of combat.”

“Yeah.”

“What was the longest period of time between combat postings you had that didn’t involve some sort of stasis?”

“I’ve had long training periods over the years,” John said. “Sometimes new armor required it. If those don’t count then…never.”

“Never,” David repeated. “Jesus, John.”

“I don’t lie well,” John said, trying to keep his tone light. “So, if the answers to those kinds of questions are going to hurt you—then please don’t ask them.”

“I’m mostly pissed off,” David admitted. “But I’ve been pissed off for years when it comes to the subject of you. Some asshole stole my big brother and I never…none of us ever got over it. You don’t deserve that burden though, so the three of us are working on it. A lot of fucked up shit happened to you, and our grief shouldn’t be added to that pile.”

“I’m grateful,” John admitted and glanced toward his brother when he made a startled noise. “Not that you’re hurt, but I am grateful that I can still…care. They spent so much time trying to make sure I wouldn’t. I was told repeatedly to ignore what hurts me and what hurts others so I could get the job done no matter the cost—personal or otherwise.”

“Have you reviewed the special forces training stuff that Rampart made available to you?”

“Yes,” John said. “And I’ve sent him a clause I’d like to be included in my commission papers—regarding the ownership of the Cradle of Stars. I’ll be asking for volunteers from Force Recon and the Navy SEALs, obviously. But I’m also willing to review Marines outside of that as well—it takes more than training to be a Spartan.”

“I want it,” David murmured. “I don’t know how Dad will handle it.”

“Do you want it for yourself or for me?” John questioned.

“Both,” David said. “And I can’t help that. I want to have your back as long as I can and if you’re going to live longer than normal—then I need to make changes. If I’m going to get biomods, I might as well get something cool out of it.”

“Boötes.” A plinth rose out of the floor near the window. “Send David all the files regarding biomodification and the armor so he can make an informed decision.”

“Of course,” Boötes said and flickered away.

“Did all Spartans have a TSI assigned to them?”

“No,” John said. “Just those with special missions or duties outside of the norm. I was assigned one because of my education path—they gave me Boötes specifically because they felt his intellectualism was a good match for my own. They weren’t wrong.”

“And now you’ve got the original in your face, trying to make himself at home on your spaceship,” David said in amusement.

“Ah well, it’s kind of hard not to trust him considering the history I have with the synthetic version, but they aren’t the same. McKay is, in a lot of ways, softer and certainly very human. Boötes can be absolutely ruthless even the mildest of circumstances. TSI’s rapidly lose their humanity during their first generation and Boötes is a fifth generation. He values human life, obviously, and will put us all before himself when it comes to survival, but he has no personal memories of being in a human body. He was only given scientific data from previous versions as each generation is meant to be shaped by their own experiences.” He paused. “Also, McKay’s ass is a modern marvel.”

David laughed. “A fact generally accepted by practically everyone.”

“You’ve not….”

“Nah, I’m straight,” David said. “And I don’t think he and Matt have ever hooked up—if they did it was nothing serious.” He paused. “But probably not because while Matt likes McKay, he also finds him frustrating. I don’t think he likes to bring that kind of challenge into the bedroom. Not gonna lie, he probably likes to be coddled to within inch of his life in private.”

“You and Dad baby him too much,” John said.

“You will, too.”

“Yeah, probably,” John admitted and sighed. “For fuck’s sake.” He cleared his throat. “Pay attention to the files regarding a Spartan’s body chemistry,” John said. “Because the armor and biomods are designed to essentially inhibit libido.”

“Yeah, of course, it would. Who’d want to pop wood in titanium armor?”

John laughed. “It wouldn’t be pleasant at all. Getting out of all of it takes roughly five minutes unless I’m in an emergency situation. Of course, that kind of emergency normally means the armor is essentially beyond repair and getting out of it would be necessary for survival.”

“What did the UNSC have planned for you? Do you know?”

“I think I was being maneuvered into a position to eventually replace the scientist who built the first Spartans. She wasn’t getting any younger, and this ship was essentially designed around the process of building armor and training people to wear it.”

“And they wanted a very accomplished Spartan to lead that—one that would know what was needed and inspire volunteers.”

“Yes, of course,” John said. “The war was ongoing and there didn’t seem to be an end in sight. I couldn’t stop that war machine, but I wanted to protect as many of my people within it as I could.”

“And now you can’t.”

“No, but I can prevent that war from ever starting,” John said. “I’ve got time to do it. First contact with the Covenant was in 2524, but there are ways I can prevent them from coming together as a coalition. Boötes is making a plan for me. I don’t have to destroy them. I just need to prevent the spread of their mythology. Because at their core, the Covenant were religious zealots and as an organization they preyed on lesser developed species to fuel their mania both with troops and with the actual spreading of their doctrine. They called Spartans demons.”

David laughed a little. “I suppose you might have looked like one to them.”

“We certainly did our part to act the part,” John muttered and the door behind them opened.

Matt came in, clearly dressed for sleep, and sat down in front of them on the floor. “What are you two up to? Dad’s on the radio having a private convo with O’Neill. Pretty sure it’s a booty call and they’re wrangling the details on who’s going to be flying where to accomplish it.”

John figured O’Neill would bringing another Jumper back up. “Boötes, ask O’Neill to bring McKay more coffee and whatever paper work they want to me to sign. Rampart mentioned it would need to be hardcopy when he was discussing the changes I wanted.”

“Paper?” Boötes questioned. “That’s quaint.” The plinth slid into the floor.

“He didn’t mean that at all,” Matt said but the focused on John. “Where and when do you sleep?”

John hesitated. “I’ve quarters not far from my lab—just off the main bridge. Boötes assigned all three of your quarters close to mine.”

“But you don’t use them,” Matt surmised.

“I have in the past,” John said. “But genuine sleep requires that I remove all of the armor and the ship isn’t completely secure. Boötes focused on defensive measures after he repaired the shields. I won’t be comfortable standing down long enough to actually sleep until the slip stream engines are repaired.”

“I put in some time in the flight simulator,” Matt said. “Flew a Pelican, a Longsword, and a Sabre.” He paused. “The Sabre is straight out of my Star Wars dreams.”

“Boötes sent me your scores,” John said. “Log a hundred hours in any of them in the sim, and I’ll let you fly the real one.”

“Deal,” Matt said quickly. “I asked Boötes to make me an EVA and he agreed. He said it would probably go into manufacturing within the week. I’ve been studying the ship, and he sent me the reporting tools for the chief engineer. I realize that’s a role you’d probably prefer to have a military asset in….”

“I’m not opposed to you finding a spot on my ship where you’re comfortable to work,” John said. “And any military personnel that come on board will have to adjust to that or they’ll be transferred off. I assume most of the ones I’ll be offered are very used to working with civilians in various situations that I have no experience with.”

Matt nodded. “You don’t strike me as the kind of officer that allows much discussion.”

“I do expect to be obeyed, if that’s your question,” John said dryly and David laughed.

“What happens if you train a Spartan who can’t handle or the armor? Or if they prove to be a problem?”

“They’ll get to keep any biomods that have been implanted but not the armor,” John said. “And I expect there will be polices in place regarding the classified nature of the battle group.” He gave a nod toward the moon that was now visible in the window. “I’ve agreed to build a space station to orbit around this moon—it’ll be manned by the SGC and will be a defensive measure for the city. It will operate separately from the construction platform.

“McKay suggested Lamarr Station. I figured it would serve. Three different ships in the UNSC carried Hedy Lamarr’s name in some fashion or another so why not a space station now? My first duty station was on Hedy’s Spear, a light cruiser on a hunt and gather mission.”

“My first posting in the Marines was in Iraq,” David said. “I fucking hate sand.”

“My first was on the USS Ramsey in the western Pacific,” a voice said from behind them. Their father came fully into the room and the door shut behind him. “I used to blame that posting for your kidnapping.”

“Why?”

“I wasn’t home enough,” Patrick said roughly as he sat down next to John. “Now I know it didn’t matter but at the time, it felt like I’d failed my family and you specifically. You trusted me to take care of and protect you. I didn’t.” He exhaled sharply. “It’s hard, even now, to accept that I was genuinely powerless in that situation.” He turned and poked at John’s arm. “Is this nanocomposite thing form fitting?”

“It was formed around my body, yes,” John said in amusement. “The skin suit underneath is the foundation for my neural net sensor network and handles basic body maintenance. The nanocomposite layer is most certainly the reason I’m sitting here. It was changed to handle slip stream travel independent of a vessel during my last upgrade. If I’d been in my Mark VI armor suite, Boötes would’ve been alone.”

“Suite,” Matt repeated. “I was looking at the research on it. Despite the fact that Halsey was a raging bitch—she was brilliant.”

“Granted,” John admitted. “But, yes, it’s basically five different suits put together in a tech suite that when married makes me, in these times, bullet proof. Nothing on Earth outside of a weapon of mass destruction is going to take me down.” He paused. “And even then, it would depend on whether it was nuclear or not.”

“So, you are that fit,” Matt said. “That’s crazy.”

John laughed. “My body fat percentage is under five percent, but that’s standard for a Spartan no matter the body type, and my deadlift outside of the suit is a 1,000 pounds due to biomodification.” He paused. “Six times that in the armor. My ground speed is roughly seventy miles an hour, in the armor. I’ve never tested outside of it, but it would probably be over fifty.”

“Do you have issues controlling your strength?” Patrick questioned.

“No, sir, we were not treated kindly for those kinds of mistakes,” John said and focus on Lamarr. The moon looked utterly harmless from space, but he knew it was full to the brim the kind of toxic and acidic atmosphere that would eat even his armor eventually. “We were children in the bodies of grown men—strict discipline was required.”

“Can I ask some invasive questions that might not be appropriate?” Matt asked.

John stared for a moment, then laughed. “Yeah, sure, kid.”

Matt flushed and folded his legs into the lotus position. “How old were when you lost your virginity?”

John huffed a little and glanced toward the ceiling as both David and his father laughed. “Twenty-three—I was on Luna Base finishing up my doctorate and there was a guest lecturer there teaching combat engineering. I audited two classes in a row because he was hot. He followed me out of the classroom the second time, and asked me why a Spartan was wasting time in his class.” He shrugged. “I told him I wasn’t there for the class. We were sex partners for the rest of the time I was on that base. The last I heard, he’d returned to Earth, gotten married, and adopted a couple of kids. His name was Leyton and it’ll be hundreds of years before he’s born again.”

“Weird?” David questioned.

“Very,” John admitted. “He was the only long term relationship I had. Keeping it casual was better because I didn’t want to leave a lot of hurt in my wake, and the UNSC moved me around as much as possible to give me the experience I needed to be the officer they wanted.”

“So, you’ve never been in love,” Matt said quietly.

John hesitated. “There was…potential once and when I realized it, I asked my CO for a transfer as far away from the person as possible because while it wouldn’t have been a violation of regs it would’ve eventually been detrimental to my career. He worked for ONI, and it was clear he would’ve worked to keep me in his life no matter how it would’ve done to my advancement as an officer. I felt enough for him at the time to be concerned that I might give in to his wants.  He was a few years older than me, and was so enamored with me that…the care was nice.”

“And rare,” Patrick said.

“Very,” John admitted. “And it would’ve been easy to get caught up in that adoration.”

“Don’t worry, I got him counseling for his daddy issues,” Boötes announced as his plinth rose once more out of the floor.

John huffed. “Shut up.”

Boötes laughed. “And was he fifteen years older than you.”

“I was an adult and stop tattling,” John muttered. “Speaking of, I looked over all the stuff you gave me regarding my identity. It’s weird being thirty-six again.”

“I can see how it would be,” Patrick said. “POTUS informed the FBI that you’ve been recovered and your kidnapping has been marked solved. Some of the men and women who worked on the case have questions, but they were told your circumstances are classified. Officially, you were found in a military database because of a genetic link to David.”

“The other two names, the ones that were alive when Bryce time traveled,” John began. “They were both on Reach when it fell. Boötes believes they both died fighting there, but we have no proof. Both were in Admiral Holland’s command, and they were on the ground during much of the invasion before Boötes lost access to the data feeds.”

“Only one has a living parent,” Patrick said. “We can’t tell them the truth until declassification. They all living relatives, of course. I need to tell your Aunt Sandra you were found, maybe. I honestly don’t know that she’d care.”

“I put all thirty-six of their names on the wall,” he said and glanced only briefly at the memorial before returning his gaze to Lamarr. “It seemed fitting to carry them with me since I’ve lost them to time.” He glanced toward Matt. “Is that all?”

Matt shrugged. “I just want to know stuff about you, that’s all.”

“I hate oranges,” John said. “I prefer chocolate meal bars. The fruit ones are disgusting, and no one can make me feel differently. I’ve set a boot on eighty-seven different worlds. My favorite food in the ONI training facility was pizza, but we didn’t get it often since it was considered junk.”

“I’d love some pizza,” David muttered.

“Yeah, that’d be great,” Matt said and sent their dad a look.

Patrick frowned. “No.”

“Come on. They fully stocked the officer’s kitchen.”

“There’s no cook in there, so I don’t consider it fully stocked,” Patrick muttered.

“Dad,” Matt said huffily.

* * * *

The Sheppards were in the kitchen when McKay went for more coffee. John was out of the exoskeleton part of the armor and was seated on a stool between his brothers. Patrick Sheppard was on the other side of the counter, working with what looked like dough.

“What is going on?” McKay questioned.

“Pizza,” Matt said. “We didn’t have pepperoni but there is sausage and cheese.”

“Ah,” McKay said. “I could probably score some peppers or something from botany.”

“O’Neill’s going to bring some,” Patrick said. “He’ll be up before this is ready to go in the oven. Did you eat dinner? Sit.”

“Uncertain,” McKay admitted and checked his watch. “Probably not.” He poured himself some coffee and sat down with them with a frown. “This is weirdly domestic. I grew up in a boarding school since I refused to fund my parents lifestyle with my intellectual property. Fortunately, the Canadian government knew I was valuable and helped me get free of that whole situation. I chose a boarding school over an adoption situation as I didn’t want more parental authority.”

Patrick frowned at him.

“I had enough therapy for three different people,” McKay said and glared at the older man when he raised eyebrow. “Don’t pick a fight you can’t win.”

Patrick laughed. “Right.” He separated the dough into three large parts and set two aside. “Grant didn’t want to leave without a private conversation. I can’t say he won’t get his way on that subject because Rampart will probably be asked to submit a psych eval for you, John. The DOJ won’t get much of anything real when it comes to your service record which is being manufactured to a such a degree that years from now people will have sworn they served with you.”

John nodded.

“But whatever honest parts when he can inject, he will.”

“I can pass any sort of assessment that is required,” John said and the door opened.

Rodney looked up and found on one then looked down when there was a little beep. A drone was hovering low, just above the floor.

John turned, slid off the stool and the drone bumped up against the toe of his boot. He picked up, turned it over and a panel flicked open. “Boötes.”

Boötes appeared on the wall ahead of them. “Ah, I was missing three restoration drones—that’s the last of them. The other two have already been repaired.”

“Looks like the navigation sensor is dislodged,” John murmured and took the drone to the counter and carefully put it down on its back. “The others?”

“One had a broken exterior camera, and was essentially blind. I found it tucked in a corner in engineering, pretty frustrated with its circumstances.”

“I bet, you’ll want to send this one through repair because it’s location transponder is shattered and he’s not getting a signal back, so his comm control is also probably broken,” John said.

McKay watched him push the something on the inside back into place and the drone wiggled all four limbs as if it were happy. “Does it have an AI?”

“Limited,” John said. “Drones need decision-making capabilities when it comes in their assigned tasks. We have others for field work that are more complicated.”

He closed the panel and turned it over. The drone rose up off the counter with a pleased hum and flew out of the room.

“Wonky flight path,” Boötes muttered and disappeared.

Rodney stared at John and the Spartan raised an eyebrow. “It came to you for help.”

“I’ve had the same twelve restoration drones since the ship launched—they all know me and will seek me out if the need help just like any other member of the crew.”

“Is that normal?”

“It’s not a programmed behavior, if that’s your question,” John said. “They do have a limited intelligence but aren’t sapient in the strictest definition of the state. But they’ve learned to trust me over the years, and they know I can normally fix what is wrong with them. If I can’t, it will allow them to get a Boötes attention, who doesn’t allow low-end drones and nanobots to contact him directly. They have to wait in a communication cue. He’s even more strict with them in times of emergency as his focus must remain on me and the ship’s central computer.”

“He never tells them no,” Boötes said without appearing. “He’s been like that since was a boy—treating drones like pets.”

John flushed and shrugged. “It hurts nothing to be kind of things that are genuinely no threat and are helpless on top of it.”

Jack O’Neill took that moment to arrive, putting down a duffle on a side cabinet and folder in front of John. “Rampart’s had several conversations with POTUS through the gate. Hayes is pleased with the data, unhappy that you don’t trust us enough to go back to Earth, but relatively understanding of the fact that you have genuine reason to be concerned.”

“You look stressed.”

“Landry is unhappy because I ordered Carter and Hayley out here,” O’Neill said and unzipped the duffle. He put a thin paper bag on the counter. “I was offered red and green peppers—I went with green since you favor that if you can’t have other kinds of meat.”

Patrick nodded. “Figured I might go toward a Philly vibe if you could swing them. How did you respond to Landry?”

“I sent email to POTUS telling him that Landry needs to go back to Area 51,” Jack said. “We’re going to put Mason Blake in my seat in Washington then I’ll be back in Cheyenne officially inside the next month with a new role. He’s leaning toward Director of Off-World Security for the IOA notification. They aren’t going to be consulted. Landry made noise about getting Rush back on the planet.”

“Rush could do the work,” McKay said reluctantly and O’Neill focused on him. “But he has a terrible personality, and I know how that sounds coming out of my mouth. He’s not a team player, and his personal research agenda will always take precedence. He needs more supervision that he’d ever get on Atlantis.”

“Nicolas Rush is the author of one of the most difficult situations recorded in the records I have of the SGC. He can’t be trusted with the lives of others,” Boötes said. “I’ll forward you that data, General O’Neill. You don’t want him off-world or Cheyenne Mountain in a situation where he’s supervised he can work around. I don’t have a complete record of the history of the SGC, but I will forward you everything I have. You’ll want to secure it on a non-networked computer.”

“Yeah, thanks,” O’Neill said and took a deep breath.

* * * *

John stepped down out of the armor station clad only in the skin suit. It sealed against skin and left absolutely nothing to the imagination despite the fact it was completely opaque.

“Wow.”

He flushed and shot McKay a look. “That’s something to get used to.”

“What do you mean?” McKay questioned.

“People are so used to seeing others in skinsuits, since even regular infantry wear some version of them, that no one from the future would blink an eye if I left this lab and went to my quarters dressed this way.”

McKay flushed. “Yes, well, sorry for objectifying you. But you are genuinely one of the most attractive people I’ve ever seen in my whole life and it’s startling.”

“His mother was like that,” Patrick said quietly from the doorway, and they both focused on him at the same time. “Breathtakingly beautiful, and often completely taken aback when it was pointed out to her. She had a silly, awful laugh, weird little toes, and was absolutely gorgeous.”

“I feel so unfit right now,” David muttered from his place on a stool at John’s lab table. “How much of that is biomodification-related?”

“Since I was modified as a child, and forced to mature physically, all of it,” John said. “I build muscle easily and keep it due to the regulation the biomods provide. Physical training is a habit not a necessity.” He stretched. “Now, that I’ve been objectified and made to feel bad for being in perfect physical condition with precious little effort on my part, I’m going to take a shower.”

He motioned towards the bathroom attached to the lab then pulled a fresh skinsuit from a storage compartment in the armor station then went into the bathroom.

Rodney made a face. “It’s awful.”

David laughed.

“I’m serious, Sheppard, who walks around looking like that? Your super soldier time traveling, brother, that’s who.” Rodney crossed his arms. “I’m going to lose brain cells.”

“You’ve got plenty to spare,” David said with a laugh. “I’m going to sleep.”

Patrick hesitated and looked toward the bathroom door.

“I’ll stick around to see if he needs help with the armor station,” Rodney said. “You look exhausted.” He paused. “And isn’t O’Neill waiting?”

The older man sighed, nodded and closed the door as he left. Rodney focused on the email he was writing to Carter. He’d outlined his daily schedule, went through his projects and picked a few to keep. He made suggestions regarding assigning them to different people but left the decisions up to her. Carter was clearly having the time of her life on the city of the Ancients, so he was relieved that part was going smoothly.

Also, practically no one was asking him any questions about it. He doubted they would as any single one of them would throw themselves at a ship from a future Earth, and probably would when they opened up positions on it. He’d have to rotate assets both from the mountain and the city to avoid resentment.

“What are you thinking?”

He looked up and found John had left the bathroom. The skinsuit was mostly on, but opened nearly to the waist. He squinted. “Are you trying to kill me?”

He laughed. “The armor station has to seal it to make sure it’s married properly to the nanocomposite suit.” John pushed the used suit into one of the sanitization pockets. “You didn’t say—what were you thinking about?”

“Just the logistics of giving other scientists in the program a chance to be on the ship and research. We’ll be moving around Pegasus a lot, right? That’s a lot of opportunity for research. Also, I’m wondering if we can fit fusion-powered slip stream engines into the ships Earth already has.”

“Boötes is making a plan for that,” John said. He slid down onto a stool beside him, but prodded a plinth on the table with nimble fingers. Boötes appeared. “Did you finish reading the commission papers Rampart sent up?”

“Yes,” Boötes said. “And he’s met all of our requirements, including the ones about the ownership of my code and the Cradle of the Stars. You won’t be ordered to reveal the locations of my backups, won’t be made to clone me, or yourself, and I’ll go offline with you. The backups will destroy themselves if they don’t receive an update from me after ninety days.”

“Maybe I could find you a safe place at some point in the future.”

“No,” Boötes said firmly. “We go everywhere together, John. I don’t want to stay here without you. We keep each other safe, and without you I’d be a very dangerous asset to anyone who could gain control of me. That can’t be allowed.”

“Okay,” John said and nodded. “Together.”

Boötes nodded then the plinth slowly lowered into the table and went dark.

“Please don’t have discussions about going offline in front of your family,” McKay muttered. “That was awful.”

“Sorry.”

“No, I get it,” Rodney said. “He’s right—he would be a very dangerous weapon in the wrong hands. I don’t know I never considered how dangerous it would be.” He closed his laptop and focused on John. “Did you need something?”

“No, not really,” John murmured. “You should get some sleep.”

“You won’t sleep,” Rodney said.

“No, not until the ship is battle ready,” John said. “I wouldn’t rest well if I tried so there’s no point in putting myself through that kind of stress.”

“Did you need help with the armor station?”

“I can handle putting on the base layers,” John murmured. “Sometimes, when crap is stressful, pulling off a new exoskeleton can be disorienting. I didn’t get a chance to calibrate it on Reach like I expected to.”

McKay nodded. “Do you need to calibrate? Because we could handle that tomorrow.”

“I should, yes,” John admitted. “I’ll make sure the testing range is working properly.”

“The fact that you can’t trust parts of the ship is messing with you,” Rodney said.

“Yes,” John admitted. “But I’m trying to adjust. Working will help.” He let his arms drop to the table and his shoulders relaxed.

Rodney hesitated then put one hand on John’s arm where it lay near his laptop. The synthetic material of the skinsuit was incredibly soft under his fingers. He started to move away, but John settled a hand on top of his. The moment settled between them, and McKay took a deep breath.

“I’m trying to be a friend,” he confessed.

“Is that all you want to be?” John questioned.

“I think that’s what you need the most, and I wouldn’t want to take advantage of you when you are clearly the most vulnerable you’ve been since you were a child,” Rodney murmured and John squeezed his hand gently in acknowledgement. “But, no, it’s not all I want. I’m a greedy bastard.”

John laughed.

“Seriously,” Rodney said and cleared his throat. “You realize this is skin hunger, right?”

“Yeah, of course, I do. It’s a pretty common thing for Spartans.”

“How did you handle it in the future?”

“In a variety of unhealthy ways that would probably make people sad,” John admitted roughly. “Casual sex was the go-to for a lot of us. I can’t say I didn’t indulge in such things when I younger, but I hated how empty I’d feel afterward. For a while, when I was in places where it was available, I would get a professional massage.”

“Full service or?

“Oh, no, I mean, we had those. There’s nothing wrong with sex work, of course, but I never paid for it.”

“I can’t see how you’d you have to,” Rodney retorted.

“Well, the people who pay for sex don’t always do it because they’re desperate,” John pointed out and Rodney nodded slowly as he considered it. He lifted his hand off Rodney’s and slid off the stool. “Get some sleep, McKay.”

He watched silently as John stepped into the armor station and let it seal his skinsuit then the nanocomposite suit folded out of the device and wrapped around the Spartan in a flow of technology that still looked astounding.