SGA Shepfic "Coherent sources" 1/2
Title: Coherent sources
Category: sheppard_hc Secret Santa 2010
Spoilers: up to 5.03 Broken Ties
Content Level: PG13, Gen, Team
Content warnings: none
Summary: He did not want to die in the snow. He did not want his friends to die in the snow either.
Word count: ~ 9,700
Author’s notes: For sgafan .I hope this team fic fits the bill! It was a real struggle to write. Prompt at the end. Eternal thanks for comma and hyphen wrangling by coolbreeze1 .
“Strength does not come from physical capacity.
It comes from indomitable will” Mahatma Ghandi.
Afternoon…off world R&R
Over the crash of waves, he could hear yelling. John Sheppard looked up, one arm wrapped round his surfboard as he battled the current. Squinting into the sun he saw a figure waving at him from the beach. Dammit. Time to clean up and get back to Atlantis, he thought with regret. He flicked his head to move his wet hair out of his eyes, pinched his nose and popped up onto his surfboard. The swell rose and fell as he rode toward the shoreline. He dropped a dozen feet from the sand and slid off, and with a practised movement, he had the big board under his arm. He waded through the surf and up the beach towards the knot of fellow would-be surfers and hangouts. He had to stifle the half-forgotten shock of not having at least Ronon or Teyla there, not even Rodney slathered in 100 SPF and grumbling under an umbrella.
“Everything alright, sir?”
“Sure. Why?” John asked worried, as he laid the board on the sand, grabbed his towel and dried off hurriedly. He tipped his sandals over, checking for bugs and scorpion-like critters and slid his feet in
“You’ve gotten a few scrapes…” The Sergeant waved vaguely at his mildly shredded hands, shins and the odd incipient bruise and handed over the jumper remote.
“Eh, wiping out happens sometimes Sergeant. I’m sure I’ll survive long enough to get us home. Don’t you worry!” he grinned. He’d barely felt anything from his twin abdomen scars, one still slightly newer and pinker than the other.
They were a small party of six taking the afternoon off. A mix of civilians and Marines and himself. Not that it hadn’t been relaxing; it just wasn’t quite the same. He kept looking for particular faces or expected a sarcastic or curious remark which didn’t appear.
The Omshu, whose planet this was, were friendly curious people, much given to long worthy discussions and competitions. How they remained so upbeat and optimistic was a wonder, given that life-sucking aliens could arrive at any moment. Once Teyla and McKay got going in debate, everyone was happy debating the yin and yang of life, the Universe, and everything. And really that said everything right there. How often could they be themselves and not worry about betrayal or saying the wrong thing?
New stories or skills or anything interesting caught their attention. And they weren’t grabby or didn’t force people to share or do anything they didn’t really want to do. If Atlantis wanted to trade food and medicines with them and maybe take up the offer of R & R in return for training and intel, then SGA-1 had had to step up to the plate.
The natives were skilled fishermen and could make nets like Ahab, and many of the women dived deep for fish and shells. Farther inland there were grain and cattle crops. They hadn’t, however, considered surfing until he’d showed them the second time they visited. Luckily, the surf was up and he could give them a bit of a show. He’d forgotten how much he enjoyed it. It seemed like forever since he’d just indulged. It felt decadent. It felt wrong, given the crummy time they’d all had lately.
So after Teyla had sung, Ronon had shown them his knife skills and Rodney had juggled- yes, really- John had made a mental note to come back if they were allowed and when he had a spare hour or three. The place relaxed them and it made a pleasant change not to be quite so on their guard all the time. He hadn’t realised how much he needed a break. Dr Keller had begun to make unsubtle hints about the last time he had a day off. But it wasn’t just him it was all of them.
The last few months had been physically and emotionally draining- Michael kidnapped Teyla, he’d gotten lost 40,000 years into the future, and then the search team had been blown up. Teyla survived her ordeal and now had baby Torren. Kanaan had battled through the de-Wraith process and had recently relocated to Atlantis from the refugee camp. So Teyla was busy getting on with her life. Although she’d only recently re-joined the team, she clearly had her own priorities, misgivings, and agenda each time they went off world.
Ronon had physically recovered from being turned into a Wraith worshipper but had clearly lost some of his youthful exuberance and bravado along the way. Not that Ronon was someone you could call innocent as such, but he was different in subtle ways. John’s nose and cheek throbbed in remembrance of the vicious punch Ronon had dished out while under the influence two weeks ago. Until Ronon was happy in himself, his inner disquiet rubbed off onto the others. Only time and a few well chosen words would get him through it. John wasn’t going to force anything- he wasn’t exactly a model for sorting through unwanted emotional baggage. Maybe he should bring up how he’d felt when Thalan had taken over his mind and body several years back. He’d better scrounge up some beer or local ale first, though.
McKay was in the labs a lot, tinkering on various projects with Radek, but since when had that been any different? Perhaps he’d also been more spooked than he liked to admit about Ronon being turned. John guessed he missed Clone Beckett, too, and was keeping extra busy. Rodney didn’t deal well with emotional baggage, either. John had welcomed Beckett’s familiar presence when he’d been stabbed in the gut by the baby Hive tentacle (and how often did he get to say that?) and Keller was being un- Hive linked. John missed Carson too- the wee drams, the bad jokes, the things his dear old mum had told him that he never listened to, but above all, the fact that he cared about his patients and told them the truth when they needed it. His brief re-emergence and sudden deployment to Earth only reminded them of the dear friend they’d lost.
All this served to remind John why he was ferrying like- minded beach bums back to Atlantis- R & R was over. Just when he’d gotten used to Colonel Carter, he’d been annoyed to discover coming round from his abdomen rebar surgery that she’d been shanghaied back to the SGC at no notice and relieved of her command. At first he thought it was the drugs he was on, but one look at Rodney’s face when he said who the replacement was and he knew it was real. Colonel Carter got what it was like to go through the Gate and make friends and enemies, what it was like to lose people and what it was like to wait when all hope was lost. She was used to the weird, the freaky and the outright geeky stuff and going with gut instincts when common sense said ‘no way’.
Richard Woolsey was a suit and not used to Atlantis as a city, or as an entity or the whole idea of what the inhabitants of the Pegasus galaxy thought she was or the Ancients. Add in the screwball mix of civilians and military trying to adhere to the rules, which were easy to read on paper and in debate in theory. Applying them in the Pegasus Galaxy? Not so much. Both of them were still figuring out how to work together- they had completely different styles. John hadn’t quite got over Teyla’s dithering over returning to the team, and Woolsey pushing hard for a replacement. He wanted his team back.
John wasn’t looking forward to his in-box or the scheduled 5pm meeting he had with Woolsey. He was going to say loudly as many times and in as many ways as he could think of that Ronon wasn’t a liability any more and didn’t need to be sent to the SGC for questioning by the IOA or Landry or anyone- not if he could help it. Shaking his head in annoyance that his sunny mood had been trashed by his own brooding thoughts, he did a visual sweep; everyone was gathering up beach towels, cooler boxes, the volleyball and net, books and sun shades. He shrugged into a shirt and buttoned up half way, then flipped his towel over one shoulder and clicked the remote.
Bending down again he hefted the surf board under one arm and headed towards the jumper, which was tucked in the shade of trees several hundred yards away. Tracks led to and from it. He propped the board up as the rear hatch lowered. He saw that there was a fine layer of sand on the jumper floor. Maintenance wouldn’t be happy. He headed for the pilot seat and put his towel down as his surf shorts were still damp. He sat down and his sandaled feet kicked something underneath the control panel as he did so. Something grabbed his left ankle and hung on. He jerked out of his seat in reaction. He could hear voices heading towards him. He felt a steady tightening pressure but not agonising pain. It didn’t seem to make any sense.
“Whoa! Sergeant! Hang on, I’m coming out!” he yelled, carefully turning round in his seat trying to see what was attached to his leg.
Confused responses filled the air. “What?”
“Why?”
“Why’s he calling for a Marine?”
“Oh God, we’re all going to die!” (Rodney was obviously rubbing off on his fellow scientists….)
“It’s one of those bugs!”
A disturbance at the rear signalled the arrival of the Marine. “Sir?” He had his P90 steady in his hands. “Fill me in.”
“I seem to have picked up the local wildlife. I don’t want it running around trapped in the jumper once I get it off! If I can get whatever it is off, I can’t really see anything in here.”
John carefully limped back outside. Torres fanned the civilians away keeping an eye on him and it. John looked down. It was a lizard with a torso and two pairs of legs, a long fleshy tail and brown and off-white patterned skin. It was about two feet long and its mouth was stretched round John’s ankle firmly, dribbles of saliva gathering in John’s sandal. He sat down on the hot sand hoping the lizard would let go as it recharged itself in the heat, but it tightened its grip slightly.
“It’s not very big. Does it hurt?” Dr Hope, a botanist, if he remembered right, asked, a familiar Atlantean scientist look of wariness coupled with outright curiosity and fanaticism crossing her face.
“Not so much. But I’d still like to get rid of it without harming me or it. Kinda feels like I’ve been clamped on by an over- enthusiastic Labrador puppy.”
The others had crowded round a little, and relaxed as there seemed to be no screaming or guns involved yet. Any moment now, one of them would want to take it back to Atlantis….
“Sergeant, see if you can find a stick and let’s pry this thing off.” John grunted as he squirmed round trying to see if there was any blood or teeth, not that he felt them if it had any.
Torres returned with said stick to the sitting colonel and the group around him.
“Okay, I’m going to carefully pry the mouth open Sergeant. You’re going to put this stick in its mouth as I do so it’s got something else to bite instead of us.
Moments later, John was free and the lizard thing blinked, gummed the stick for a second and then opened its mouth and dropped it, spat and trundled off, making them all laugh nervously. No marauding Momma lizard came out of the undergrowth. Meanwhile, their prize volleyball player Swanson (kitchen tech) hurried inside and grabbed the First Aid kit, dishing out wipes to John, and the Sergeant.
John waved away a bandage after using several wipes and a smear of antibiotic cream, wanting the open air to get at it. Sure, it looked a little red and puffy, but then his other scrapes were beginning to tingle with drying salt and sand. He could check with medical about tetanus shots and stuff later.
“Okay, excitement over. Let go home people!” he said as he stood up, gently testing his ankle. Seemed fine he could walk.
John rallied the group onto the jumper, Sergeant Torres having checked that there were no more baby Godzilla’s lurking. John checked that they had everything, secured the First Aid box and his surfboard, and sat back in the towelled pilot chair, shutting the rear door. Moments later, they were back in Atlantis. He felt fine, a little adrenaline rush residue fizzing through his body. He was a little achy and a lot sandy and salt dried from surfing, but nothing more than that. There was no rending of flesh or huge loss of blood or anything dire.
Back in his quarters on Atlantis, he had a long shower getting rid of the salt and sand and found an old tube of antibiotic cream in his bathroom cabinet and used the last of it on his cuts and scrapes. He changed back into a clean black BDU uniform. He meant to check in with the infirmary about tetanus and whatnot, but since he had to hurry to his scheduled meeting with Woolsey, he completely forgot about it.
Several hours later, John stopped by the mess hall and sat with some veggie rolls, Athosian tea and a few aspirin for his body aches and tension headache. He hated meetings. He was not surprised to be dining alone at the team table. He’d missed everyone again.
We’re all out of sync, he mused, worried. He headed for his office and did some paperwork and discussed tactics with Major Lorne about upcoming performance reviews. Later, he went to one of the rec rooms and half-heartedly re-watched some old football game, feeling vaguely out of sorts.
---
“Sheppard.”
He jerked awake, his hand automatically moving to his holster even as he registered Ronon’s tone and opened his eyes. For a split second, he was back on the Wraith facility with Ronon staring at him like he was nasty vermin to kill. He tensed then relaxed.
“Hey. buddy. What’s up?” he yawned and rubbed his face, scrubbing against an early beard and blinking awake.
“It’s late- you’ll be good for nothing if you sleep all night in that. Early wake up call tomorrow.” Ronon stuck out a big hand.
“Huh? Guess you’re right. Thanks. I owe you one.” He grabbed the proffered hand and pulled himself out of the saggy comfy chair that threatened to swallow him whole. He stretched, un-kinking aching muscles before joining Ronon at the door. They ambled in silence down the halls to John’s room. He wondered what Rodney was up to, if he was still in the labs. John wanted to ask Ronon how he was, what sort of a day he’d had , but before he could form the words, Ronon gruffly said, “06.0,0”and turned around and walked away.
He let himself into the room, thought the lights up and sat down at his desk. He dealt with a bunch of emails and played Minesweeper for a bit. He showered again convinced he still had sand in his hair and slid into bed. He dreamt restlessly of giant lizards and dinosaur Ray Harryhausen type epic battles.
Next day
“There’s no Ancient tech. No ZeePM, no outpost, and no weird anomalous reading from the rocks, soils, or plants. Why am I here exactly? And why did we have to come so early? It wasn’t even light when we left Atlantis! I’m really asleep in my bed, aren’t I?” grumbled Rodney as they popped out of the orbital Gate and veered towards PX73-34C hanging in space.
“Because I thought you might like to get out a little more, Rodney. You’ve been holed up for days now. You’re an astro- physicist. This black stuff is…you know…. space. And you know the O stands for ‘Oh-my-God-it’s- early’, so it wasn’t like you weren’t warned.” John deadpanned.
Rodney turned in the co pilot seat, stared at him and mouthed “Robin Williams?!” at him. “Oh, har har. Just because you want to blow stuff up all the time, doesn’t mean you have to involve me.”
“But I do have to involve you Rodney…and Teyla and Ronon. It’s what we do; it’s what I do. Remember there is no I in team? And we’re not blowing anything up. Well, not unless they want us to. You were the one who made a bomb in high school. We’re just checking in with long-distance friends.”
“Huh.”
“Do you not remember the roast they served last time in our honour?” Teyla reminded them all with a smile, diverting the conversation from escalating into an all-out argument. Food was one way to sooth the savage heart and never more so when dealing with Rodney…or Ronon.
“Oh, my yes.” Rodney’s eyes gleamed, then frowned suddenly. “Ronon ate more than I did.”
“Gotta eat.” Ronon said bluntly with a feral grin.
Rodney carried on bitching quietly, but John was glad to hear it even though the talk of food made him mildly queasy.
This was a semi-regular check-in with allies. They had half an hour flying time before they landed. The locals knew of the Wraith and had been culled in the long distant past and once a few years ago, but nothing much since. Still, they did get passing traders and Atlantis was just as keen to hear news and gossip as the locals were. Time for a welcome Intel meet and greet, even if it was overdue by many months. Everyone hoped things were alright planetside.
Teyla had reminded them that it would be heading for fall so they wore thicker jackets and packed gloves. The main land mass on Hensh was as large as America, Canada, and Russia combined with the varied climates and geographical features to go with it. The township they were headed for was nestled in a river valley with crop fields and animal pasture. They were surprised to see the mountains covered in thick snow almost up to the town. Strong winds buffeted the jumper as they descended
“Hmmm, storm front’s moving in,” John said as the HUD flickered off again at his command.
Once landed, John took a moment to move out of the pilot seat still a little achy and sluggish from yesterday as he followed the rest of his team out of the jumper and walked to edge of town. He saw that Rodney immediately hunched into his jacket as the cold seeped in, but the warm welcome from the Chief more than made up for it.
“Well met.” the man greeted.
John relaxed as they recognised Bilul still in charge, a big bear of a man with heavy brown beard to match. Nothing was more awkward or dangerous than walking into a coup or power vacuum. Social stability could be hard to maintain, but it did make for easier visits. That was also why the same SGA team had returned this time.
“And you. Thank you for your hospitality,” John responded. The greetings were repeated for each person as a way of including everybody and recognising them.
“Winter comes unseasonably early this year, first wet and cold, and now all of this snow. This is a critical time with cows in calf for spring. The cows could get scour or pneumonia in these conditions. I’m worried about our more remote farm communities up in the valley. Those who went to check have not returned. If they cannot get to barns for the extra feed or supplements they’ll need in this bad weather, the milk production may dry up and we’d lose everything.”
“I saw there was a big storm front heading in. Can we help in any way before it hits in a couple of hours? Give you a lift up there and do a fly-by or three?” John offered, sure that the others would help in any way they coul
“I don’t know how you knew to come today.”
“It’s Thursday,” muttered Rodney. “I never could get the hang of Thursdays…”
Bilul looked baffled as John stifled a grin, recognising the Hitch-Hikers reference at once, and then wondered what that made him.
“Tell us what you need and we’ll do our best.” John said before he had to explain it to all of the non-Earthlings.
“I think that you came just when we needed you. Help would be welcome. Come quickly, let’s go inside and let me explain.” Bilul urged them towards his house.
“Despite the rain and snow, we had bumper huckleberry crops this year, and as a result, we have had many migrating birds stopping off here over winter to fill their bellies. How they’ll cope in this I’m not sure, but some of them are big and good eating on occasion!” Bilur talked as he led them to a warm table by a fire and people rallied getting warm drink and eats.
Back on Atlantis- same day
Dr. Keller had completed updating her patient notes within a few hours of returning from the Omshu and had refilled the medical triage kits ready for re-use. She felt that she deserved lunch. Chatting with one of the servers, noting his mild sunburn, she found out that he too had been on Omshu as well- just on the other side of the continent.
“Oh the beach,” she remembered with a smile as she referred to the bay they’d been allowed to use as R & R without disturbing clam beds or lobster-like pots. “Did you win at volleyball again?”
“Of course, doc. How ‘bout you? What were you up to?” Swanson asked as he ladled soup into a bowl.
“Delivering twins. Thought they were never going to pop out! Not easy- a long, long night. But it turned out alright in the end.”
“That’s great. Colonel Sheppard took us; even took his surfboard this time.”
“Wow. Finally having time out! I’d forgotten he had that thing. Did Ronon go too? I hope someone has photos or video.” She grinned, selecting a roll to go with the soup.
“Na, didn’t come with.”
“Oh.” She moved up the line, conscious that she was holding people up. She made her way to an empty table thoughtfully. Ronon obviously still wasn’t joining in like he usually did. Extreme sports outside in the sun would normally have had Ronon dragging Colonel Sheppard to the jumper bay within seconds if the Colonel hadn’t found him first.
Some of her nurses joined her at the table and she told them about waiting in the village and the women talking about their men folk. That led to discussions of drinking and sports and animals. While she was describing the lizard like creatures the men sometimes bet on in pit fights or tried to avoid in the dry inland scrubs when they weren’t fishing one of the botanists backtracked and stopped by the table.
“Did ...did I just hear you mention lizards?” she queried.
“Yes. Huge things, bask in the sun, carrion eaters, quick on their feet. Not good pets by all accounts.” Jennifer looked up recognising Dr. Hope.
“Where was this?”
“Off world. Why?”
“Oh, that’s a weird coincidence.” Dr Hope said, frowning.
“You’ve seen some too?”
“After we played volleyball and were all set to come back, this lizard thing grabbed Colonel Sheppard’s ankle in the puddle jumper.”
“Volleyball?…it grabbed his ankle? You were on Omshu?” Jennifer said with sudden realisation.
“Yeah.”
“Dr Hope, that’s where I was, too- just a different area! Did this lizard bite him?”
“No, but it was just a little thing- not like the huge ones you were just talking about. I’m sure it’ll be alright. He was fine. There were no teeth just a lot of drooling like a puppy.”
Jennifer nodded grimly, not liking what she was just now hearing. She tapped her earpiece “Colonel Sheppard?” There was no reply.
“They’re not here. A friend of mine saw them all geared up and heading for the jumper bay first thing this morning.”
“Oh. You know how long they’ll be gone?”
“No, sorry.”
“Thanks anyway.” Jennifer managed a tight smile, and hurriedly finished her soup and roll. She was trying to remember exactly what the locals had said about the lizards. Little lizards grew into big lizards…..Maybe the colonel had stopped by the infirmary yesterday and there was a blood test and cultures in the system to compare with samples from this morning’s pre- mission check up. Maybe he’d been issued some antibiotics already. Or maybe not.
Planet, hours later, same day.
It was all over in a few heart-stopping moments. One minute they were headed back towards town for one last pass, and the next the world ended.
They had spent most of the day flying several clicks up and down the valley checking remote farming communities, ferrying food, injured or ill people, blankets, medical and cattle supplies. The farmers wouldn’t leave the animals, which were half way through the breeding cycle and thus very valuable for food and trade.
The skies that had been clear and blue as they sped over the brilliant white trying to see dots on the ground as picked up by the HUD was beginning to turn grey. The wind hadn’t let up much, either.
Sheppard skimmed the jumper along the snow- topped mountains in the late afternoon. It was the last go-around and John was glad of that because he was tired and the light was beginning to go. Energy had seeped out of him as the day wore on. And his ankle throbbed. Then again, he had been wrangling supplies and people and digging snow and he had slipped on the ice at one point.
Suddenly, one of the drive pods made a strange noise and something bleeped red on the controls. There was a screechy high- pitched whine.The jumper wobbled too close to the forest covered lower slope of the snow-capped mountain. There followed a dull bang and the jumper lurched violently.
“Was that us or outside?” Rodney asked agitated.
“Both” John said pointing out the window.
Time stood for a second, and then the snow on the mountain moved, sliding slowly at first then faster and faster with a rumbling sound, snow and debris flung high into the air.
“What is it?” asked Teyla.
“Avalanche!” John yelled fighting with the yoke and concentrating on HUD controls.
“Oh, God!” moaned Rodney.
Suddenly, a cloud of huge flapping birds appeared right in his path, driven up high into mad flight by the fury of the avalanche from the lower tree line. The jumper rocked from impacts, heavy thuds, and splats. There was absolutely nothing he could do against so many.
“What the…? Sheppard?” Rodney yelled anxiously
“Bird strike!” Sheppard battled to keep the jumper even, but although the inertial dampeners were working, the jumper was still lopsided either from the original drive pod failure or the birds. Either way, it was a problem.
“Drive pod’s damaged, or it’s retracted itself and won’t engage!”
“I’ll see if I can re-route power, or maybe reboot if we shut it off,” Rodney half shouted over the discordant whine of the jumper, already tapping furiously on his tablet.
“Whatever, but do it fast! I hate to say this, but she’s only going one way, and at this height. I can’t turn around. We’re heading further away from town every second.”
“You mean we’re going the wrong way?” Rodney shrilled, his voice rising.
“Sorry!”
Sheppard reduced speed, trying to look for somewhere safe and level to land the jumper. Then the other drive pod died. Stricken, they all looked at each other.
“Buckle up and grab on tight!” John commanded, frowning in fierce concentration, willing the jumper to go where he wanted it to. Come on, come on he urged silently.
He tried to aim the jumper towards a snow-covered plateau. It was still higher up in altitude than he liked, but he didn’t have a lot of choices. The valley didn’t open up and they’d keep going until they hit something at this rate. It was like flying a brick. The last thing he saw was the white rushing up at them. And then it hit.
Part Two
Category: sheppard_hc Secret Santa 2010
Spoilers: up to 5.03 Broken Ties
Content Level: PG13, Gen, Team
Content warnings: none
Summary: He did not want to die in the snow. He did not want his friends to die in the snow either.
Word count: ~ 9,700
Author’s notes: For sgafan .I hope this team fic fits the bill! It was a real struggle to write. Prompt at the end. Eternal thanks for comma and hyphen wrangling by coolbreeze1 .
“Strength does not come from physical capacity.
It comes from indomitable will” Mahatma Ghandi.
Afternoon…off world R&R
Over the crash of waves, he could hear yelling. John Sheppard looked up, one arm wrapped round his surfboard as he battled the current. Squinting into the sun he saw a figure waving at him from the beach. Dammit. Time to clean up and get back to Atlantis, he thought with regret. He flicked his head to move his wet hair out of his eyes, pinched his nose and popped up onto his surfboard. The swell rose and fell as he rode toward the shoreline. He dropped a dozen feet from the sand and slid off, and with a practised movement, he had the big board under his arm. He waded through the surf and up the beach towards the knot of fellow would-be surfers and hangouts. He had to stifle the half-forgotten shock of not having at least Ronon or Teyla there, not even Rodney slathered in 100 SPF and grumbling under an umbrella.
“Everything alright, sir?”
“Sure. Why?” John asked worried, as he laid the board on the sand, grabbed his towel and dried off hurriedly. He tipped his sandals over, checking for bugs and scorpion-like critters and slid his feet in
“You’ve gotten a few scrapes…” The Sergeant waved vaguely at his mildly shredded hands, shins and the odd incipient bruise and handed over the jumper remote.
“Eh, wiping out happens sometimes Sergeant. I’m sure I’ll survive long enough to get us home. Don’t you worry!” he grinned. He’d barely felt anything from his twin abdomen scars, one still slightly newer and pinker than the other.
They were a small party of six taking the afternoon off. A mix of civilians and Marines and himself. Not that it hadn’t been relaxing; it just wasn’t quite the same. He kept looking for particular faces or expected a sarcastic or curious remark which didn’t appear.
The Omshu, whose planet this was, were friendly curious people, much given to long worthy discussions and competitions. How they remained so upbeat and optimistic was a wonder, given that life-sucking aliens could arrive at any moment. Once Teyla and McKay got going in debate, everyone was happy debating the yin and yang of life, the Universe, and everything. And really that said everything right there. How often could they be themselves and not worry about betrayal or saying the wrong thing?
New stories or skills or anything interesting caught their attention. And they weren’t grabby or didn’t force people to share or do anything they didn’t really want to do. If Atlantis wanted to trade food and medicines with them and maybe take up the offer of R & R in return for training and intel, then SGA-1 had had to step up to the plate.
The natives were skilled fishermen and could make nets like Ahab, and many of the women dived deep for fish and shells. Farther inland there were grain and cattle crops. They hadn’t, however, considered surfing until he’d showed them the second time they visited. Luckily, the surf was up and he could give them a bit of a show. He’d forgotten how much he enjoyed it. It seemed like forever since he’d just indulged. It felt decadent. It felt wrong, given the crummy time they’d all had lately.
So after Teyla had sung, Ronon had shown them his knife skills and Rodney had juggled- yes, really- John had made a mental note to come back if they were allowed and when he had a spare hour or three. The place relaxed them and it made a pleasant change not to be quite so on their guard all the time. He hadn’t realised how much he needed a break. Dr Keller had begun to make unsubtle hints about the last time he had a day off. But it wasn’t just him it was all of them.
The last few months had been physically and emotionally draining- Michael kidnapped Teyla, he’d gotten lost 40,000 years into the future, and then the search team had been blown up. Teyla survived her ordeal and now had baby Torren. Kanaan had battled through the de-Wraith process and had recently relocated to Atlantis from the refugee camp. So Teyla was busy getting on with her life. Although she’d only recently re-joined the team, she clearly had her own priorities, misgivings, and agenda each time they went off world.
Ronon had physically recovered from being turned into a Wraith worshipper but had clearly lost some of his youthful exuberance and bravado along the way. Not that Ronon was someone you could call innocent as such, but he was different in subtle ways. John’s nose and cheek throbbed in remembrance of the vicious punch Ronon had dished out while under the influence two weeks ago. Until Ronon was happy in himself, his inner disquiet rubbed off onto the others. Only time and a few well chosen words would get him through it. John wasn’t going to force anything- he wasn’t exactly a model for sorting through unwanted emotional baggage. Maybe he should bring up how he’d felt when Thalan had taken over his mind and body several years back. He’d better scrounge up some beer or local ale first, though.
McKay was in the labs a lot, tinkering on various projects with Radek, but since when had that been any different? Perhaps he’d also been more spooked than he liked to admit about Ronon being turned. John guessed he missed Clone Beckett, too, and was keeping extra busy. Rodney didn’t deal well with emotional baggage, either. John had welcomed Beckett’s familiar presence when he’d been stabbed in the gut by the baby Hive tentacle (and how often did he get to say that?) and Keller was being un- Hive linked. John missed Carson too- the wee drams, the bad jokes, the things his dear old mum had told him that he never listened to, but above all, the fact that he cared about his patients and told them the truth when they needed it. His brief re-emergence and sudden deployment to Earth only reminded them of the dear friend they’d lost.
All this served to remind John why he was ferrying like- minded beach bums back to Atlantis- R & R was over. Just when he’d gotten used to Colonel Carter, he’d been annoyed to discover coming round from his abdomen rebar surgery that she’d been shanghaied back to the SGC at no notice and relieved of her command. At first he thought it was the drugs he was on, but one look at Rodney’s face when he said who the replacement was and he knew it was real. Colonel Carter got what it was like to go through the Gate and make friends and enemies, what it was like to lose people and what it was like to wait when all hope was lost. She was used to the weird, the freaky and the outright geeky stuff and going with gut instincts when common sense said ‘no way’.
Richard Woolsey was a suit and not used to Atlantis as a city, or as an entity or the whole idea of what the inhabitants of the Pegasus galaxy thought she was or the Ancients. Add in the screwball mix of civilians and military trying to adhere to the rules, which were easy to read on paper and in debate in theory. Applying them in the Pegasus Galaxy? Not so much. Both of them were still figuring out how to work together- they had completely different styles. John hadn’t quite got over Teyla’s dithering over returning to the team, and Woolsey pushing hard for a replacement. He wanted his team back.
John wasn’t looking forward to his in-box or the scheduled 5pm meeting he had with Woolsey. He was going to say loudly as many times and in as many ways as he could think of that Ronon wasn’t a liability any more and didn’t need to be sent to the SGC for questioning by the IOA or Landry or anyone- not if he could help it. Shaking his head in annoyance that his sunny mood had been trashed by his own brooding thoughts, he did a visual sweep; everyone was gathering up beach towels, cooler boxes, the volleyball and net, books and sun shades. He shrugged into a shirt and buttoned up half way, then flipped his towel over one shoulder and clicked the remote.
Bending down again he hefted the surf board under one arm and headed towards the jumper, which was tucked in the shade of trees several hundred yards away. Tracks led to and from it. He propped the board up as the rear hatch lowered. He saw that there was a fine layer of sand on the jumper floor. Maintenance wouldn’t be happy. He headed for the pilot seat and put his towel down as his surf shorts were still damp. He sat down and his sandaled feet kicked something underneath the control panel as he did so. Something grabbed his left ankle and hung on. He jerked out of his seat in reaction. He could hear voices heading towards him. He felt a steady tightening pressure but not agonising pain. It didn’t seem to make any sense.
“Whoa! Sergeant! Hang on, I’m coming out!” he yelled, carefully turning round in his seat trying to see what was attached to his leg.
Confused responses filled the air. “What?”
“Why?”
“Why’s he calling for a Marine?”
“Oh God, we’re all going to die!” (Rodney was obviously rubbing off on his fellow scientists….)
“It’s one of those bugs!”
A disturbance at the rear signalled the arrival of the Marine. “Sir?” He had his P90 steady in his hands. “Fill me in.”
“I seem to have picked up the local wildlife. I don’t want it running around trapped in the jumper once I get it off! If I can get whatever it is off, I can’t really see anything in here.”
John carefully limped back outside. Torres fanned the civilians away keeping an eye on him and it. John looked down. It was a lizard with a torso and two pairs of legs, a long fleshy tail and brown and off-white patterned skin. It was about two feet long and its mouth was stretched round John’s ankle firmly, dribbles of saliva gathering in John’s sandal. He sat down on the hot sand hoping the lizard would let go as it recharged itself in the heat, but it tightened its grip slightly.
“It’s not very big. Does it hurt?” Dr Hope, a botanist, if he remembered right, asked, a familiar Atlantean scientist look of wariness coupled with outright curiosity and fanaticism crossing her face.
“Not so much. But I’d still like to get rid of it without harming me or it. Kinda feels like I’ve been clamped on by an over- enthusiastic Labrador puppy.”
The others had crowded round a little, and relaxed as there seemed to be no screaming or guns involved yet. Any moment now, one of them would want to take it back to Atlantis….
“Sergeant, see if you can find a stick and let’s pry this thing off.” John grunted as he squirmed round trying to see if there was any blood or teeth, not that he felt them if it had any.
Torres returned with said stick to the sitting colonel and the group around him.
“Okay, I’m going to carefully pry the mouth open Sergeant. You’re going to put this stick in its mouth as I do so it’s got something else to bite instead of us.
Moments later, John was free and the lizard thing blinked, gummed the stick for a second and then opened its mouth and dropped it, spat and trundled off, making them all laugh nervously. No marauding Momma lizard came out of the undergrowth. Meanwhile, their prize volleyball player Swanson (kitchen tech) hurried inside and grabbed the First Aid kit, dishing out wipes to John, and the Sergeant.
John waved away a bandage after using several wipes and a smear of antibiotic cream, wanting the open air to get at it. Sure, it looked a little red and puffy, but then his other scrapes were beginning to tingle with drying salt and sand. He could check with medical about tetanus shots and stuff later.
“Okay, excitement over. Let go home people!” he said as he stood up, gently testing his ankle. Seemed fine he could walk.
John rallied the group onto the jumper, Sergeant Torres having checked that there were no more baby Godzilla’s lurking. John checked that they had everything, secured the First Aid box and his surfboard, and sat back in the towelled pilot chair, shutting the rear door. Moments later, they were back in Atlantis. He felt fine, a little adrenaline rush residue fizzing through his body. He was a little achy and a lot sandy and salt dried from surfing, but nothing more than that. There was no rending of flesh or huge loss of blood or anything dire.
Back in his quarters on Atlantis, he had a long shower getting rid of the salt and sand and found an old tube of antibiotic cream in his bathroom cabinet and used the last of it on his cuts and scrapes. He changed back into a clean black BDU uniform. He meant to check in with the infirmary about tetanus and whatnot, but since he had to hurry to his scheduled meeting with Woolsey, he completely forgot about it.
Several hours later, John stopped by the mess hall and sat with some veggie rolls, Athosian tea and a few aspirin for his body aches and tension headache. He hated meetings. He was not surprised to be dining alone at the team table. He’d missed everyone again.
We’re all out of sync, he mused, worried. He headed for his office and did some paperwork and discussed tactics with Major Lorne about upcoming performance reviews. Later, he went to one of the rec rooms and half-heartedly re-watched some old football game, feeling vaguely out of sorts.
---
“Sheppard.”
He jerked awake, his hand automatically moving to his holster even as he registered Ronon’s tone and opened his eyes. For a split second, he was back on the Wraith facility with Ronon staring at him like he was nasty vermin to kill. He tensed then relaxed.
“Hey. buddy. What’s up?” he yawned and rubbed his face, scrubbing against an early beard and blinking awake.
“It’s late- you’ll be good for nothing if you sleep all night in that. Early wake up call tomorrow.” Ronon stuck out a big hand.
“Huh? Guess you’re right. Thanks. I owe you one.” He grabbed the proffered hand and pulled himself out of the saggy comfy chair that threatened to swallow him whole. He stretched, un-kinking aching muscles before joining Ronon at the door. They ambled in silence down the halls to John’s room. He wondered what Rodney was up to, if he was still in the labs. John wanted to ask Ronon how he was, what sort of a day he’d had , but before he could form the words, Ronon gruffly said, “06.0,0”and turned around and walked away.
He let himself into the room, thought the lights up and sat down at his desk. He dealt with a bunch of emails and played Minesweeper for a bit. He showered again convinced he still had sand in his hair and slid into bed. He dreamt restlessly of giant lizards and dinosaur Ray Harryhausen type epic battles.
Next day
“There’s no Ancient tech. No ZeePM, no outpost, and no weird anomalous reading from the rocks, soils, or plants. Why am I here exactly? And why did we have to come so early? It wasn’t even light when we left Atlantis! I’m really asleep in my bed, aren’t I?” grumbled Rodney as they popped out of the orbital Gate and veered towards PX73-34C hanging in space.
“Because I thought you might like to get out a little more, Rodney. You’ve been holed up for days now. You’re an astro- physicist. This black stuff is…you know…. space. And you know the O stands for ‘Oh-my-God-it’s- early’, so it wasn’t like you weren’t warned.” John deadpanned.
Rodney turned in the co pilot seat, stared at him and mouthed “Robin Williams?!” at him. “Oh, har har. Just because you want to blow stuff up all the time, doesn’t mean you have to involve me.”
“But I do have to involve you Rodney…and Teyla and Ronon. It’s what we do; it’s what I do. Remember there is no I in team? And we’re not blowing anything up. Well, not unless they want us to. You were the one who made a bomb in high school. We’re just checking in with long-distance friends.”
“Huh.”
“Do you not remember the roast they served last time in our honour?” Teyla reminded them all with a smile, diverting the conversation from escalating into an all-out argument. Food was one way to sooth the savage heart and never more so when dealing with Rodney…or Ronon.
“Oh, my yes.” Rodney’s eyes gleamed, then frowned suddenly. “Ronon ate more than I did.”
“Gotta eat.” Ronon said bluntly with a feral grin.
Rodney carried on bitching quietly, but John was glad to hear it even though the talk of food made him mildly queasy.
This was a semi-regular check-in with allies. They had half an hour flying time before they landed. The locals knew of the Wraith and had been culled in the long distant past and once a few years ago, but nothing much since. Still, they did get passing traders and Atlantis was just as keen to hear news and gossip as the locals were. Time for a welcome Intel meet and greet, even if it was overdue by many months. Everyone hoped things were alright planetside.
Teyla had reminded them that it would be heading for fall so they wore thicker jackets and packed gloves. The main land mass on Hensh was as large as America, Canada, and Russia combined with the varied climates and geographical features to go with it. The township they were headed for was nestled in a river valley with crop fields and animal pasture. They were surprised to see the mountains covered in thick snow almost up to the town. Strong winds buffeted the jumper as they descended
“Hmmm, storm front’s moving in,” John said as the HUD flickered off again at his command.
Once landed, John took a moment to move out of the pilot seat still a little achy and sluggish from yesterday as he followed the rest of his team out of the jumper and walked to edge of town. He saw that Rodney immediately hunched into his jacket as the cold seeped in, but the warm welcome from the Chief more than made up for it.
“Well met.” the man greeted.
John relaxed as they recognised Bilul still in charge, a big bear of a man with heavy brown beard to match. Nothing was more awkward or dangerous than walking into a coup or power vacuum. Social stability could be hard to maintain, but it did make for easier visits. That was also why the same SGA team had returned this time.
“And you. Thank you for your hospitality,” John responded. The greetings were repeated for each person as a way of including everybody and recognising them.
“Winter comes unseasonably early this year, first wet and cold, and now all of this snow. This is a critical time with cows in calf for spring. The cows could get scour or pneumonia in these conditions. I’m worried about our more remote farm communities up in the valley. Those who went to check have not returned. If they cannot get to barns for the extra feed or supplements they’ll need in this bad weather, the milk production may dry up and we’d lose everything.”
“I saw there was a big storm front heading in. Can we help in any way before it hits in a couple of hours? Give you a lift up there and do a fly-by or three?” John offered, sure that the others would help in any way they coul
“I don’t know how you knew to come today.”
“It’s Thursday,” muttered Rodney. “I never could get the hang of Thursdays…”
Bilul looked baffled as John stifled a grin, recognising the Hitch-Hikers reference at once, and then wondered what that made him.
“Tell us what you need and we’ll do our best.” John said before he had to explain it to all of the non-Earthlings.
“I think that you came just when we needed you. Help would be welcome. Come quickly, let’s go inside and let me explain.” Bilul urged them towards his house.
“Despite the rain and snow, we had bumper huckleberry crops this year, and as a result, we have had many migrating birds stopping off here over winter to fill their bellies. How they’ll cope in this I’m not sure, but some of them are big and good eating on occasion!” Bilur talked as he led them to a warm table by a fire and people rallied getting warm drink and eats.
Back on Atlantis- same day
Dr. Keller had completed updating her patient notes within a few hours of returning from the Omshu and had refilled the medical triage kits ready for re-use. She felt that she deserved lunch. Chatting with one of the servers, noting his mild sunburn, she found out that he too had been on Omshu as well- just on the other side of the continent.
“Oh the beach,” she remembered with a smile as she referred to the bay they’d been allowed to use as R & R without disturbing clam beds or lobster-like pots. “Did you win at volleyball again?”
“Of course, doc. How ‘bout you? What were you up to?” Swanson asked as he ladled soup into a bowl.
“Delivering twins. Thought they were never going to pop out! Not easy- a long, long night. But it turned out alright in the end.”
“That’s great. Colonel Sheppard took us; even took his surfboard this time.”
“Wow. Finally having time out! I’d forgotten he had that thing. Did Ronon go too? I hope someone has photos or video.” She grinned, selecting a roll to go with the soup.
“Na, didn’t come with.”
“Oh.” She moved up the line, conscious that she was holding people up. She made her way to an empty table thoughtfully. Ronon obviously still wasn’t joining in like he usually did. Extreme sports outside in the sun would normally have had Ronon dragging Colonel Sheppard to the jumper bay within seconds if the Colonel hadn’t found him first.
Some of her nurses joined her at the table and she told them about waiting in the village and the women talking about their men folk. That led to discussions of drinking and sports and animals. While she was describing the lizard like creatures the men sometimes bet on in pit fights or tried to avoid in the dry inland scrubs when they weren’t fishing one of the botanists backtracked and stopped by the table.
“Did ...did I just hear you mention lizards?” she queried.
“Yes. Huge things, bask in the sun, carrion eaters, quick on their feet. Not good pets by all accounts.” Jennifer looked up recognising Dr. Hope.
“Where was this?”
“Off world. Why?”
“Oh, that’s a weird coincidence.” Dr Hope said, frowning.
“You’ve seen some too?”
“After we played volleyball and were all set to come back, this lizard thing grabbed Colonel Sheppard’s ankle in the puddle jumper.”
“Volleyball?…it grabbed his ankle? You were on Omshu?” Jennifer said with sudden realisation.
“Yeah.”
“Dr Hope, that’s where I was, too- just a different area! Did this lizard bite him?”
“No, but it was just a little thing- not like the huge ones you were just talking about. I’m sure it’ll be alright. He was fine. There were no teeth just a lot of drooling like a puppy.”
Jennifer nodded grimly, not liking what she was just now hearing. She tapped her earpiece “Colonel Sheppard?” There was no reply.
“They’re not here. A friend of mine saw them all geared up and heading for the jumper bay first thing this morning.”
“Oh. You know how long they’ll be gone?”
“No, sorry.”
“Thanks anyway.” Jennifer managed a tight smile, and hurriedly finished her soup and roll. She was trying to remember exactly what the locals had said about the lizards. Little lizards grew into big lizards…..Maybe the colonel had stopped by the infirmary yesterday and there was a blood test and cultures in the system to compare with samples from this morning’s pre- mission check up. Maybe he’d been issued some antibiotics already. Or maybe not.
Planet, hours later, same day.
It was all over in a few heart-stopping moments. One minute they were headed back towards town for one last pass, and the next the world ended.
They had spent most of the day flying several clicks up and down the valley checking remote farming communities, ferrying food, injured or ill people, blankets, medical and cattle supplies. The farmers wouldn’t leave the animals, which were half way through the breeding cycle and thus very valuable for food and trade.
The skies that had been clear and blue as they sped over the brilliant white trying to see dots on the ground as picked up by the HUD was beginning to turn grey. The wind hadn’t let up much, either.
Sheppard skimmed the jumper along the snow- topped mountains in the late afternoon. It was the last go-around and John was glad of that because he was tired and the light was beginning to go. Energy had seeped out of him as the day wore on. And his ankle throbbed. Then again, he had been wrangling supplies and people and digging snow and he had slipped on the ice at one point.
Suddenly, one of the drive pods made a strange noise and something bleeped red on the controls. There was a screechy high- pitched whine.The jumper wobbled too close to the forest covered lower slope of the snow-capped mountain. There followed a dull bang and the jumper lurched violently.
“Was that us or outside?” Rodney asked agitated.
“Both” John said pointing out the window.
Time stood for a second, and then the snow on the mountain moved, sliding slowly at first then faster and faster with a rumbling sound, snow and debris flung high into the air.
“What is it?” asked Teyla.
“Avalanche!” John yelled fighting with the yoke and concentrating on HUD controls.
“Oh, God!” moaned Rodney.
Suddenly, a cloud of huge flapping birds appeared right in his path, driven up high into mad flight by the fury of the avalanche from the lower tree line. The jumper rocked from impacts, heavy thuds, and splats. There was absolutely nothing he could do against so many.
“What the…? Sheppard?” Rodney yelled anxiously
“Bird strike!” Sheppard battled to keep the jumper even, but although the inertial dampeners were working, the jumper was still lopsided either from the original drive pod failure or the birds. Either way, it was a problem.
“Drive pod’s damaged, or it’s retracted itself and won’t engage!”
“I’ll see if I can re-route power, or maybe reboot if we shut it off,” Rodney half shouted over the discordant whine of the jumper, already tapping furiously on his tablet.
“Whatever, but do it fast! I hate to say this, but she’s only going one way, and at this height. I can’t turn around. We’re heading further away from town every second.”
“You mean we’re going the wrong way?” Rodney shrilled, his voice rising.
“Sorry!”
Sheppard reduced speed, trying to look for somewhere safe and level to land the jumper. Then the other drive pod died. Stricken, they all looked at each other.
“Buckle up and grab on tight!” John commanded, frowning in fierce concentration, willing the jumper to go where he wanted it to. Come on, come on he urged silently.
He tried to aim the jumper towards a snow-covered plateau. It was still higher up in altitude than he liked, but he didn’t have a lot of choices. The valley didn’t open up and they’d keep going until they hit something at this rate. It was like flying a brick. The last thing he saw was the white rushing up at them. And then it hit.
Part Two