AN: Oh gods, here I go again. This story is insisting on being slow in coming, so it will probably be a few days between updates. Input (esp in later chapters) will be greatly appreciated, as this story has become quite stubborn. Any comments can spark ideas in my warped lil brain, so please let me know what you think and any theories you might have!

Disclaimer: I own nothing of SGA, don't sue me, I'm just having fun at the expense of the poor characters.

Spoilers: Set sometime after "The Long Goodbye" and before "Michael," with some minor spoilers for TLG

The Conscience Blessed to Kill

"How's it goin, gentlemen?" Lt. Colonel John Sheppard asked cheerily as he bound up to two men huddled over a huge blinking piece of equipment. The smaller man looked up in surprise at the colonel's approach, pushing his glasses up his nose. He opened his mouth to respond, but the taller man cut him off with a wave of his hand.

"It would be going better if we didn't keep getting interrupted every five minutes!" Dr. Rodney McKay snapped, glaring up at Colonel Sheppard, who only threw him a smirk in return. Dr. Radek Zelenka simply rubbed his temple and sighed, used to being interrupted by McKay.

"We haven't been able to make any progress from where were were yesterday," Zelenka clarified. Sheppard nodded slowly, processing the information. He glanced around the clearing McKay and Zelenka were working in. Several large, oblong objects lay around the clearing, some up on end, reminding John vaguely of Stonehenge. Two other science teams were also busy buzzing around the strange apparatus trying to tease out their secrets. While they had managed to bring some of the behemoths to life in terms of happy blinking lights and humming noises, they were still stymied as to what they did or how they did it.

"Well, if you geniuses would like another task to tackle, we've picked up some energy readings deeper into the woods," Sheppard said. "Your man Klein took Teyla and Ronon, and they tried to pinpoint the source, but no luck." McKay snorted and rolled his eyes, but thankfully, kept any rude comments to himself for once. Sheppard ignored him. "So what do you say? Care to go on a treasure hunt?" Zelenka fidgeted, pushing his glasses up again, though they hadn't fallen at all.

"Well, we are somewhat busy here..." the Czech said, indicating the blinking machine.

"Yea, but if you're stuck, it might help if you stopped thinking about it for a bit," Sheppard pointed out. He was clearly eager to go and stretch his legs a bit after essentially doing little more than standing around the clearing for days. "Some time away might give you some better perspective, come back at it fresh. Come on, McKay, mystery energy readings are your favorites!" The Canadian pondered the question a moment. Looking at the recalcitrant machine in front of him, he made up his mind.

"We're getting nowhere with this thing," McKay said, a smirk starting to spread across his face. He really did love searching out anomalous energy readings, regardless of the number of times it had landed him in trouble. Come to think of it, he wasn't sure if it was good that Sheppard was actually encouraging him to go after strange energy readings... but now was not the time to worry about it! "Come on, Radek! Thompsen and the others can hold down the fort while we go on the colonel's snipe hunt." Zelenka's protests were cut off as Rodney tossed a bag of gear at him. Muttering czech obscenities under his breath, he shouldered the pack as McKay began fiddling with the sensor to try and search out the mysterious energy reading.

"Dr. Weir is correct about the two of you," Zelenka groused. "You do nothing but look for trouble." Sheppard only grinned boyishly, bounced once on the balls of his feet, and gestured with his P-90 towards the forest.

"Let's move em out!" he cried. After telling Teyla and Ronon briefly where they were going, the three men set off into the woods. While there was no cleared trail, the trees were widely spaced and the brush wasn't too dense. McKay led the group with the sensor held out in front of him. Zelenka followed closely behind McKay, while Sheppard brought up the rear, peering through the trees for any signs of either the energy source, or trouble. Though they had been working on the planet for nearly five days and had seen no natives, that didn't necessarily mean that there was no danger lurking in the shadows.

Just under an hour later, they came to a brown and gray outcropping of rocks jutting up from the ground. The sensor in McKay's grip began to make strange noises, and McKay looked to see if he could discern what was causing the odd reaction. Seeing nothing, the men continued on following the rocks as they grew higher and higher next to them. The rock face grew to be well over twenty feet tall, and Zelenka wondered what could have caused such a large upthrust. He was no geologist, but it still seemed out of place to him. After a few more minutes, they started to pass by caves carved out of the rock face. McKay scanned each cave, and the strange fluctuations on his scanner continued to register, but noting to indicate that it was the true source of the energy readings.

"There must be something in these rocks that's interfering with the sensor," Rodney grumbled.

"That would make sense," Sheppard said, "This looks like the place where Teyla and Ronon reported hitting a dead end." Rodney responded to this news by whacking the side of the instrument with his palm and fixing it with a deadly glare. No sooner had he done this then the men came to another cave, much like the others; except that the sensor started going crazy. McKay's face split into a grin. "Ah-ha!" he exclaimed, turning triumphantly to his companions. "And this is why you never send the students to do a master's job!" Sheppard rolled his eyes, but grinned just the same.

"Careful, McKay, I'll tell Teyla and Ronon you said that." Rodney blanched slightly, but huffed. "Anyway, all you've done is prove you can read a sensor," Sheppard quipped, "I still don't see the source of the energy."

"Well you're the one with the P-90, you go in first!" McKay retorted. Sheppard glanced at McKay's own 9 mil, still in it's holster, then back up at Rodney. "The P-90's got a light!" McKay mumbled. Sheppard shook his head and led the way into the cave, not commenting on the flashlight he knew that Rodney had on him.

The cave wasn't that deep, actually, only about ten feet in from the mouth, Sheppard came against the back wall. It wasn't that dark, either, as sunlight made it's way in rather easily from the mouth of the cave. After Sheppard made sure there were no evil creatures hiding in the shadowy corners, ready to dismember the scientists, he made his way back towards the entrance.

"Have at it," he told them, gesturing into the opening. The men wasted no time rushing in, flashlights at the ready, now that they were certain there were no Wraith or other monsters hiding in the corners. Sheppard grinned at their eagerness, leaning idly against the mouth of the cave. A moment later, he yelped and leapt away from the rock.

"Son of a bitch!" the colonel howled, his left hand gripping his right shoulder, as he staggered into the cave. McKay and Zelenka turned to see what had happened, and they could make out the colonel, silhouetted by the daylight from outside, as he sagged against the back wall of the cave. His P-90 lay discarded at the mouth of the cave, dropped when the jolt of pain had spasmed in his shoulder.

"Colonel, are you all right?" Zelenka asked, approaching the soldier. McKay was hot on his heels, when abruptly, both men froze.

Sheppard had drawn his 9 mil and had leveled the weapon at Zelenka's chest. The scientist's eyes grew wide, and he looked into the colonel's face for some kind of explanation. What he saw terrified him more than the gun.

Sheppard's face was a twisted mask of anger and panic. His mouth was drawn into a sneer, while his eyes pleaded with the men. In his mind, he screamed at them to get away, but no words came out. His hand shook, and the gun quivered in his grip as he fought a fierce internal battle. He could feel his muscles straining to pull the trigger, and it was though he was trapped in the wrestling match from hell. His body was betraying him, though his mind was painfully clear. When he was finally able to tear a word from his throat, the distorted voice that reverberated around the cave sounded nothing like his own. The meaning, though, could not have been more clear.

"Run!"

For a second, nothing happened. Time was frozen as the surreal became real. It thawed quickly, though, when Sheppard's finger trembled on the trigger. He was able to pivot his torso just enough that the shot only tore past the hips of the men in front of him. The explosion echoed around the cavern in a deafening roar.

It did the trick, though, as both McKay and Zelenka turned and dashed out into the sunshine, tripping over each other in their haste. McKay cast a look back over his shoulder at his friend as he scrambled through the trees, but immediately wished he hadn't. Sheppard was standing in the mouth of the cave, legs spread in a wide, awkward stance, gun still aimed at his companions. A few choice swear words escaped McKay as he scurried away even faster, doing his best to keep up on his feet. More than once, though, he wound up scrabbling along with his hands hitting the ground in front of him as he lost his footing. Zelenka struggled to keep up, fighting his way through bushes that were determined to drag him down.

Another shot ripped through the quiet of the woods, and Rodney heard Zelenka gasp, followed by a dull thud. His heart leapt into his throat, threatening to choke him for a second. It returned to simply hammering in his chest, though, when he turned to find that Zelenka was alive. The smaller man had fallen to the ground, and was now trying to get back to his feet, but having a great deal of difficulty.

"What the hell are you doing, Sheppard!" McKay screamed, not looking back, just grabbing onto Zelenka's arm, not bothering to check if the smaller man had been injured before he yanked him up. They could hear Sheppard following them, though his progress was much slower, as he was battling himself with each step. McKay slapped at his earpiece to call for help.

"Teyla, Ronon, anyone!" Rodney shouted between gasps for breath. He didn't dare pause for a moment, as another bullet shot past them, alarmingly close to his head. "We are under attack! Something is seriously wrong with Colonel Sheppard! He's gone insane, and he's trying to kill me and Zelenka! I repeat, we are under attack from Colonel Sheppard!" Another shot, and McKay's voice squeaked up higher than ever. "Someone get out here and help us!"

Zelenka pushed himself forward with single minded determination that came from the most primal necessity -- survival. His right shoulder burned, and he knew that he had been shot. The pain was very, very far away, though. So was Rodney's voice as he called for help. Come to think of it, everything seemed far away, almost dreamlike, as he pushed himself through the trees.

Scratches and bruises covered both men, especially their hands, arms, and faces; and as their salty sweat dripped down their skin and seeped into their cuts, a whole different kind of burning began. A kind of itchy buzzing overtook them, seeping up into their brains as adrenaline continued to pump through their veins. Time was a very abstract concept, which currently held no meaning to the men.

They struggled to run through the disturbingly unyielding underbrush. Neither of them had bothered to pay any attention to where they had headed when they had taken off. They had simply been focused on getting away from the deranged colonel. They pressed franticly forward, neither daring to look back. Zelenka started to lag, and McKay grabbed his arm again to force him to keep up. Unfortunately, they weren't exactly paying expert attention to the ground in front of them, and neither genius managed to notice the steep drop off twenty feet away.

McKay was the first to hit the edge and lose his footing completely. The death-grip Rodney had reestablished on Zelenka's arm instinctively tightened as McKay tried to right himself, using Radek as a counterweight. All that accomplished, though, was to pull the smaller man inevitably over the brink.

They tumbled down the slope, alternately head-over-heels and a kind of log-roll. By the time they reached the bottom, both men were horribly dizzy, nauseous, and groaning in pain. Zelenka righted his glasses, which had been knocked askew, but still miraculously remained on his face. Looking back up at the hillside, the back of his mind guessed that the angle of the slope was probably fifty degrees, or more. The front of his mind, however, was far more interested in continuing to put distance between themselves and Sheppard.

This time, it was Zelenka who grabbed McKay by the arm and hauled the larger man to his feet. McKay let out a howl of pain when he tried to put weight on his right leg. Zelenka ignored it and pulled McKay forward, and after a moment, the Canadian let the adrenaline flooding his system take over again, and he continued to put one foot in front of the other.

Fifteen minutes later (time was rapidly becoming a more concrete reality), the men dropped down behind a fallen tree.

"Ok, that's it," McKay panted, collapsing on his back. "We stop here for now." Zelenka couldn't speak -- he was doubled over, his chest far too tight as his lungs tried to gather enough air to meet his blood's demand for oxygen -- but he nodded his assent. He was more than a little disturbed by the metallic taste of blood in his mouth. Rodney slowly sat up and reached to tap his earpiece and call again for help, but touched only his ear.

"Crap," he gasped. "I've lost my radio. Do you have yours?" Zelenka reached to check, but found nothing. He shook his head.

"We must have lost them during the fall," he wheezed. His shoulder was protesting loudly now that the adrenaline was wearing off. "Should we try and make our way back?" He winced at the thought, dreading the idea of moving right now, for any reason. Radek couldn't help feeling a bit relieved when McKay shook his head. The Canadian experimentally moved his inured right leg, wincing as both his knee and ankle screamed at him to hold still.

"First things first," he said through gritted teeth.

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End Notes: All thoughts and input is greatly appreciated! Oh, and REALLY BIG cookies for anyone who gets the musical reference of this title!