Atlantis had not returned to Lantea because it was safe.
Daniel Jackson was very clear about that.
Jonas stood with him at the edge of the control room, looking out through the great windows toward the ocean below.
After all the years of wondering where Atlantis had gone, the answer still felt almost absurdly simple.
It had gone home.
Jonas looked at him.
“You knew Earth had stopped responding.”
Daniel nodded.
“Eventually.”
“And you kept going.”
Daniel smiled faintly.
“There wasn't anywhere else to go.”
Jonas waited.
Daniel looked out at the sea.
“We were already too far out to turn around cheaply. The power requirements alone made every major course correction a negotiation.”
He glanced toward the city around them.
“And Earth had stopped answering.”
Jonas:
“So you chose Pegasus.”
Daniel shook his head.
“Atlantis chose Pegasus a long time before any of us were born.”
Beat.
“We just decided to finish the trip.”
Jonas looks toward one of the consoles.
“With a Wraith onboard.”
Daniel smiles.
“Todd complicated things.”
A voice behind them:
“I prefer improved.”
They turn.
Todd stands in the doorway.
Older.
Thinner.
Still unmistakably Todd.
Daniel gives him the look of a man who has been enduring that distinction for years.
Todd steps into the room.
“Had they arrived without me, the first hive to detect them would have assumed Atlantis had returned to resume the war.”
Daniel:
“He's not wrong.”
Todd smiles.
“You should write that down.”
Jonas:
“So you negotiated peace?”
Todd laughs.
Actually laughs.
Daniel shakes his head.
“No.”
Todd:
“Certainly not.”
Daniel:
“We negotiated rules.”
That is the word.
Not peace.
Rules.
Atlantis would not attack Wraith territory without provocation.
The Wraith would not attack Atlantis.
Human worlds under Atlantis protection were not feeding grounds.
Atlantis would not attempt another extermination campaign.
Wraith factions violating the agreement would not be protected by the others.
Nobody trusted anybody.
But everybody understood the alternative.
Daniel:
“It wasn't friendship.”
Todd:
“Friendship is an inefficient basis for diplomacy.”
Daniel:
“It was exhaustion.”
Todd considers that.
“That too.”
Jonas looks between them.
“And it held?”
Daniel takes a breath.
“Most of the time.”
Todd:
“Which is considerably better than your species usually manages.”
Daniel ignores him.
“We came back to Lantea because Atlantis needed somewhere permanent. Somewhere its systems understood. Somewhere we could repair the city without consuming what little power we had left simply keeping it alive.”
Jonas:
“And the Wraith let you.”
Todd's expression sharpens.
“No.”
Beat.
“We accepted that removing them would cost more than tolerating them.”
Daniel nods.
“That's pretty much the agreement.”
Todd:
“Your phrasing lacks elegance.”
Daniel:
“Mine has fewer teeth.”
For the first time, Jonas understands what Pegasus has become.
Not conquered.
Not saved.
Balanced.
Barely.
Years later, Daniel meets the Vanir.
Not in Atlantis.
Neutral ground.
A barren moon with an Ancient relay station that neither side quite trusts the other to approach alone.
The Vanir arrive in armor.
Their leader removes the helmet.
An Asgard face looks back at Daniel Jackson.
Not Thor.
Not anything like Thor.
Older somehow.
Harder.
The Vanir studies him.
“You wear the legacy of our cousins comfortably.”
Daniel looks at the armor.
“I could say the same.”
The Vanir does not smile.
Behind Daniel, Todd watches with enormous interest.
The Vanir turns toward Atlantis, visible through the observation window far below.
“Your city is unwelcome in Pegasus.”
Daniel:
“We've gathered that.”
“You should leave.”
“We tried that.”
The Vanir's eyes narrow.
“Then try again.”
Daniel folds his arms.
“There isn't much you can do about it.”
A pause.
Not anger.
Calculation.
That is the first moment Daniel realizes this conversation has changed.
The Vanir steps closer.
“Perhaps.”
Beat.
“There are other matters.”
Daniel waits.
“The Asgard knowledge repository.”
There it is.
Daniel's expression gives nothing away.
“What about it?”
“You possess it.”
“Earth possesses it.”
The distinction irritates the Vanir immediately.
“It belongs to the Asgard.”
Daniel:
“Thor gave it to Earth.”
“Thor gave away what was not his alone to give.”
Todd tilts his head slightly.
Interested.
Daniel:
“You and Thor clearly had unresolved issues.”
The Vanir steps closer.
“Do not trivialize this.”
Daniel doesn't.
“I'm not.”
Beat.
“But the core isn't aboard Atlantis.”
That lands badly.
The Vanir studies him.
“Where is it?”
“Earth.”
“Then you will provide access.”
Daniel almost smiles.
“No.”
The Vanir's expression hardens.
“You misunderstand.”
Daniel:
“No. I understand perfectly.”
The Vanir:
“It contains the accumulated knowledge of our species.”
Daniel:
“A species that gave it to us.”
“A faction of our species.”
Daniel doesn't answer immediately.
The Vanir continues.
“You possess knowledge you cannot fully use.”
Daniel's face changes slightly.
The Vanir sees it.
“You lack materials.”
Daniel says nothing.
“You lack fabrication capacity.”
Still nothing.
“You preserve systems you cannot replace.”
Daniel:
“You've been doing your homework.”
“We have been surviving.”
That lands differently.
For the first time, Daniel hears something beneath the threat.
Need.
The Vanir looks toward Atlantis.
“You have what we lost.”
Daniel:
“And you have things we don't.”
Now the Vanir smiles.
Very slightly.
The conversation becomes something else.
Not diplomacy.
Commerce.
Leverage.
“Perhaps.”
Daniel:
“You're not getting the core.”
“Not today.”
Daniel catches the wording.
The Vanir continues.
“But knowledge has value.”
“So do materials.”
“So does access.”
Daniel looks at him carefully.
“Are you proposing a trade?”
“I am proposing that hostility is expensive.”
From behind Daniel:
Todd makes a low sound of approval.
The Vanir glances toward him.
Todd smiles.
“At last, someone in this galaxy speaking sensibly.”
Daniel does not turn.
“You're enjoying this.”
Todd:
“Immensely.”
The Vanir replaces the helmet.
Before leaving:
“We do not forgive your presence here.”
Daniel:
“Good to know.”
“We do not recognize your claim to Asgard inheritance.”
Daniel:
“Also good to know.”
The Vanir pauses.
“But perhaps neither matter requires resolution today.”
Daniel studies him.
“Perhaps not.”
The Vanir leaves.
Silence.
Todd moves beside Daniel.
They watch the Vanir vessel depart.
After a moment:
“Formidable.”
Daniel glances at him.
Todd continues watching the ship.
“You should be careful, Daniel Jackson.”
“Of the Vanir?”
Todd smiles.
“Of anyone who learns to smile while discussing what they intend to take from you.”
Daniel looks at him.
Todd turns away.
Then, almost pleasantly:
“Watch your back.”
Beat.
“One day you may find a knife in it.”
Daniel watches him go.
“And I suppose you'd know.”
Todd stops.
Looks back.
That old Wraith smile.
“I would.”
