The next-to-last team was already lined up just out of range of the wormhole surge when Lorne heard Dr. Zelenka say, "Major, Major."

He turned towards the door to the control room, thinking that the other man was probably there with last minute instructions from Dr. Weir, some last bit of advice about something Gate related, but when he actually caught a glimpse of Zelenka, he realized that he was probably wrong. First, the scientist wasn’t wearing his normal attire. No, instead he was dressed in exactly the same thing that Lorne was wearing: the BDUs with a too large vest over-top the jacket. Second, he had on a backpack that looked (to Lorne) to be as large as any he had ever seen Dr. McKay take off world with him. Which, he thought, was saying something.

But also? Zelenka had a gun.

Granted, he wasn’t carrying it, which Lorne was relieved to see, but it *was* strapped to his thigh, in the thigh holster, and that was only slightly better. Despite the fact that he knew Zelenka must have had basic weapons training—he wouldn’t have been allowed off world at *all* without it, Lorne knew—it was still all that he could do not to go over there right then and check it. Make sure that the safety was on. That it was loaded properly and that it wasn’t going to accidentally discharge and kill someone when Zelenka pulled it out of the holster, because with the way that the day had been going so far? That was exactly the sort of thing that’d happen.

Before he could vocalize his concerns, though, Zelenka said, "I am ready."

There was enough of an edge to his voice, enough of an almost offended look on his face that Lorne thought that there were at least two layers to his words. That he was answering Lorne’s unspoken question about the gun, too, as well as saying whatever it is that he was *really* saying.

Which, quite frankly, Lorne was really hoping he was misunderstanding, because he *really* didn’t have time for this right now. Given the already sinking feeling in his stomach, though, he was pretty sure that he wasn’t.

Still, he could be, so he said, "I’m sorry, Dr. Zelenka?"

Zelenka responded by speaking more slowly. "I am ready," he repeated. Then, when Lorne didn’t immediately answer: "To go to the other planets, yes? To find Rodney."

Lorne opened his mouth, then closed it again, then finally said, "Dr. Zel—"

But Zelenka didn’t give him an opportunity to finish, before rushing on. "Dr. Weir said that she wanted everyone who was cleared for off world duty to help with the searching, yes? I am cleared for off world duty. I am ready to go."

Again Lorne found himself opening and closing his mouth, the necessary words refusing to come out, because yes, Dr. Weir *had* said that she wanted everyone who was cleared for off world duty out searching. That much was true, but Lorne had interpreted ‘everyone’ as ‘all military personnel’. They were going to be going to a lot of planets today, ninety-five percent of them unexplored by members of the Atlantis expedition, and who knew what sorts of situations they were going to find themselves in.

It was enough, he felt, for his soldiers to worry about finding Sheppard’s team and then getting themselves back to Atlantis without having to *also* worry about keeping the scientists safe. It was just… enough.

Which wasn’t to say that several of the scientists hadn’t offered their help. He’d talked to both Parrish and Simpson, but he’d responded by saying that he needed them there, trying to devise ways to narrow down their search, to see if they could gather anything helpful from the information that Dr. Zelenka had gathered from the DHD on the original planet. He’d said that he needed them to be doing what they did best, and indeed, he thought they’d looked a lot more comfortable with that idea.

Even Dr. Weir hadn’t protested his actions in the matter and she’d had a number of opportunities to, given the amount of times she’d been in and out of the control room, asking for progress reports, the next Gate Address they were going to dial, for any information at all. She hadn’t said even one word about it at all, indeed had just said, "Thank you, Major," every time he sent another team through the Gate.

"Now Dr. Zelenka," Lorne said, finally. "I appreciate your offer, but really, it would be better—"

And somehow, Lorne had always thought of Zelenka as a comparatively docile scientist. Not that he hadn’t seen him angry before, of course—he’d been on Zelenka’s end of the phone call where the scientist had tried to tell McKay that he was wrong about the failed Ancient energy weapon—but he’d never thought to see even a fraction of that anger directed at him. Now though, as he watched, Zelenka drew himself up, seeming to grow another inch or two, even weighed down by all the equipment that he was carrying.

"It is not an offer," Zelenka said, and there must have been something dangerous in the look in his eyes, a spark of something, because Lorne suddenly had no doubt that Zelenka really *did* know how to use the gun that was strapped to his thigh. "I am ready to go."

Lorne tried again. "Dr. Ze—"

There was a flicker of something across Zelenka’s face, then, edged with desperation, frustration for an unexpressed idea. It was a look that Lorne had come to associate with the non-English speakers in the city when they were trying to search for the appropriate word, or another way to say what they wanted to say. Indeed Lorne appeared to be right about that, because with a flash of what appeared to be inspiration in his eyes, Zelenka let one of the backpack straps slide from his shoulder. He fumbled with the zipper for a moment, then dropped his hand into the main compartment, pulling out one of the energy sign detectors.

"I have experience with reading energy signatures," Zelenka said. "I may be able to calibrate it once we are on the planets, so that we may pick up traces of past signatures of people that are no longer there, yes? Or have passed through the Gate not long ago. It may help us—"

From the now almost desperate look on Zelenka’s face, Lorne was pretty sure that what Zelenka was really saying was: ‘I care, too.’

Before he even realized what he was doing, he found himself looking up towards Dr. Weir’s office, towards where she was standing on the balcony, looking down at him, and while she wasn’t smiling—she wouldn’t, not today—she *was* looking grimly satisfied. He raised an eyebrow at her, silently asking for her opinion, her guidance, and he watched as she nodded.

He knew what she thought he should do, but she was leaving it up to him. With Sheppard gone, he was in charge. It was his choice.

He turned back to Zelenka, taking in the want on the man’s face, the *need* to do this, and no matter how good he still thought his reasoning was, no matter how much they really did need the scientists in Atlantis, doing what they did best, he found that he was no longer wanting to say ‘no’ quite as adamantly.

Besides, Sheppard had McKay on his team for a reason, after all. Scientists *could* come in handy, and Zelenka, Lorne knew, was handier than most.

He sighed once more, more for effect than due to actual annoyance, and said, "Okay, you’re right. We can use all of the help that we can get."

"Yes," Zelenka said, quickly walking forward again as he re-fastened his backpack and got it settled on his shoulders. He stopped beside Lorne, then turned to face the Gate. "You can."

Lorne found himself nodding in agreement as he gestured that the Gate Tech should begin the dialing sequence.

As the Gate started spinning, the Chevrons locking, Lorne said, "We’ll find them, you know." He’d been saying it all day to Dr. Weir, to anyone who he’d thought needed to hear it. It seemed like the right thing to say now.

It wasn’t until Zelenka answered, "Yes, we will," until Lorne saw the determination on his face, heard the steadfast conviction in the scientist’s voice, though, that he actually started to believe it himself.