The Atlantis expedition has been lost for three years. SG-1 goes to find them, and arrives just a little too late.

Alpha-17 was made for war. He was made to kill the enemies of the Republic. He was made to die. He was not made to deal with a Jedi lineages interpersonal drama. He was not made to deal with a conspiracy at the heart of the Republic. And he sure as fuck was not made to be witness to Cody's weird as shit relationship with General Kenobi despite not even being assigned to the 212th. And Yet. Here he was. (This was written over the course of a long spell of insomnia. Pecked at during the worst of my 4am insomnia fugue states. So it is what it is and I have no idea what this is. Enjoy.)