Chapter 2: I wouldn't count on that if I were you

Sheppard stepped from the wormhole onto M7G-677 much as he had many times before.

Except .. where he was wasn't where he'd expected to be.

Hardly aware that the wormhole had closed immediately behind him, John took a few steps forward, looking around in confusion.

No grassy clearing ... no trees ... no one waiting to greet his arrival ... and no team arriving behind him either.

Instead he had walked from the Stargate alone into some kind of warehouse ... if he had to pin it down to one particular race he'd go with the Genii as his first choice although in all honestly it looked closer to something he'd find back home.

Dirty windows high in the grey slat style walls cast shadowy natural light into the large room ... the tall metal doors directly across from him appeared to be the only obvious exit.

Striding quickly forward, P90 held at the ready, Sheppard grabbed the door handle one handed and tugged, putting his full body weight behind the force applied.

Of course it was locked.

Turning back towards the Stargate for the first time since he'd arrived, John finally noticed something he probably should have discovered in the first instant.

The Stargate itself was suspended from the ceiling to rest lightly on the floor using clamps similar to those employed back at the SGC but there was nothing else in the room.

No DHD to dial back to Atlantis. No captor waiting to tell him why he was there. Hell, he didn't even have a chair to sit in!

"This is Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard," John activated his radio, walking back towards the centre of the room, hoping someone out there was around to pick up his signal. "Does anybody read me, over?"

Static greeted him in reply ... not the 'if you tune to the right channel, someone will hear you' kind either ... to John's worried ears it sounded more like the static they picked up on planets with absolutely no claims to technological advancements of any kind.

"I repeat, this is Colonel Sheppard," John persisted, despite his doubts. "I am located in a -,"

"Ah, Colonel," the cultured voice that interrupted him seemed to come from all around the room. "I see you have finally arrived. Welcome."

"I'd like to say it's a pleasure but that would be a lie," Sheppard returned sarcastically. "What is this place?"

"Perhaps you can tell me," the voice suggested with some amusement.

"My first guess would be Genii outpost," Sheppard replied, deciding there was no harm in playing along for the moment.

"Not Ancient?" there was nothing in those words that threatened and yet John felt himself tense the moment they were spoken.

"Obviously not," he said lightly, ignoring the internal warnings. "They go more for the swirly blues and greens. The Genii are the only race I know with a fondness for drab grey."

"I see," the voice replied, dripping with disappointment. "And there I had hoped you were using your unique connection to all things Ancient to assist in your assessment."

"My what?" John returned the dramatics, putting an exaggerated confused frown on his face as he looked around the room for the source of communications.

"Come now Colonel Sheppard," disappointment returned to amusement. "Surely you don't think your arrival here is accidental?"

"I was kind of hoping so," John admitted deprecatingly. It hadn't been that long since his last bizarre journey where he'd stepped out into an Atlantis partially buried under desert, 48,000 years in the future. The chances of suffering another wormhole accident like that had been remote but ... well, a guy could hope.

"Many months of planning and execution were required so that you could be here Colonel," his host replied.

"You shouldn't have," Sheppard smiled mockingly. "You'll find that I'm really not worth the effort ... or trouble."

"You underestimate your value," again his host seemed impervious to the usually provoking 'Sheppard as captive' approach. "After all, are you not the only person in existence who can speak directly with the city of Atlantis?"

"Atlantis?" Sheppard queried. "The Replicators destroyed that city a year ago – surely you heard that."

"This is pointless Colonel," a hint of annoyance finally bled through, giving John a few moments of satisfaction. "We know the Atlantis Base now resides on M35-117 ... and we know the names of everyone stationed there."

"Well aren't you well informed," John quipped in annoyance. "So what? Half the people in the galaxy probably know about the city by now ... you're not impressing me here.

"That may be true Colonel, but what those people don't know is that Atlantis is not just a city to you is it?" the host's voice was kindly, interested ... like some kind of benevolent uncle offering support and understanding.

"I live there so I guess you could call it my home too," John suggested, having no intention of admitting anything else.

"Most people don't have homes that take on an actual presence inside their occupants heads," the abrupt revelation of just how much his captors knew had John's insides dipping alarmingly. Before he could react, the voice continued. "We know that you speak to the city ... that you converse with it inside your mind ... and that its awareness replies."

"I don't know anything about awareness's," John said like he was genuinely trying to work out why they'd want him. Internally it was a different story. Sheppard could count the number of people who knew about his bond with Atlantis on one hand ... Elizabeth and Carson - both gone now, Rodney, Ronon and Teyla. That was it. With complete certainty John was sure that none of them would have betrayed him. "It's a city - an inanimate object. Sure - I can use the systems but I'm not the only one. Almost half the base can do that."

"You are as stubborn as we expected," the host said impatiently. "Very well, you force us to make our point most ... forcefully."

A noise in the roof drew John's attention upwards in time to see the outline of someone opening a trapdoor and lowering something down to the floor in the middle of the room.

John approached cautiously ... stopping at a safe distance as he made it out to be a simple cube. The worrying thing was that it was clearly of Ancient design. Did they think they could force him to turn it on? That would prove nothing.

"I'm not touching that," Sheppard announced with grim purpose.

"We did not expect that you would," the voice replied in amusement.

Grappling down from the roof came a figure encased entirely in black, face obscured by a balaclava. The shape revealed by the skin tight clothing along with the way the figure moved announced it as male.

John expected the unknown man to approach him but instead he approached the Ancient device, ripping off a glove and placing his palm down confidently on the topmost face of the cube.

The effect was immediate. On the outside the cube lit up with the usual Ancient blue light, pulsing faintly ... not threatening in the slightest.

On the inside, in John's head, it was a different story. As soon as the device had been activated his mental quiet was replaced with a high pitched droning tone ... like the faint hum John always got from ancient technology but distorted as though the device were malfunctioning.

"Our ATA friend there discovered this amongst some artefacts removed from an historic site recently," the host revealed with interest. "We were unable to work out what it does but discovered one interesting side effect which I am sure you're currently enjoying."

"What side effect?" John said blandly, focussing hard on his surroundings as he tried to filter out the mental noise.

"You amuse me Colonel," the voice returned laughingly. "You may be able to ignore it for a time but eventually the continual presence of mental noise will break you. My friend there is nowhere near as strong as yourself and yet even he struggled to cope after a full day without pause. You'll not only admit to what we both know is truth but you'll want to help us make the best use of what only you have to offer."

"I wouldn't count on that if I were you," John retorted stubbornly.

"We shall see," his host replied ... smugly.

John expected there to be something more but the only thing that happened next was that faceless ninja man climbed back up his rope. No such luck that he'd forget the device and just leave it where John could get at it. No, ninja man placed it in a large netting bag and then tied it to the rope and left it suspended well outside John's reach. The trapdoor closed with an echoing slam, leaving John alone in the deathly silent room ... not that he could appreciate it with the racket going on upstairs.

"Crap!" he muttered, looking around in dismay. "Now what?'

oOo

"No way?" Woolsey said disbelievingly, sure that Doctor McKay was exaggerating their current circumstances.

"It's impossible to track anything in subspace," Rodney said dismissively, "particularly from the outside with nothing to use for reference."

"Don't we track every wormhole to its destination?" Woolsey frowned in confusion.

"With a MALP sending an active radio signal back through the connection," Rodney agreed impatiently. "What a shame we didn't think to send one today ... oh wait, that's right! We've only been to that planet about a hundred times before!"

"Rodney," Teyla admonished, waiting patiently as he calmed and then returned her gaze apologetically.

"It wouldn't have mattered anyway," Rodney explained in a more even tone. "I don't think a radio signal would have cut through the interference created when the energy dissipated at the event horizon."

"There is truly nothing you can do?" Teyla queried in a low tone, her eyes full of dread.

"I don't know where that wormhole went," Rodney admitted, his tone stubborn but also sad. "It's not like it's the first time I lost Sheppard ...," he trailed off, loath to bring up what he knew everyone was thinking ... the last time John's trip through the gate had taken a turn for the worst.

"And was it not you who brought Colonel Sheppard back from the future?" Teyla asked gently, concerned now for Rodney as well.

"Huh!" Rodney scoffed. "Sure ... and I only had to let Michael take over the whole galaxy, play mad scientist recluse for 40 years, and then wait another 47,960 years to get to him. Somehow I don't think that method's gonna work a second time!"

"From John's point of view very little real time passed until he was returned safely to Atlantis," Teyla persisted, unwilling to let Rodney beat himself up about something that hadn't exactly happened. "Instead of that future, the Colonel was missing for a few days only ... because of your dedication."

"There's a way," Ronon spoke for the first time, his tone and the expression on his face brooking no further argument.

"This is what comes from being the smartest man in two galaxies," Rodney commented almost casually to Woolsey. "People get complacent and start thinking you can solve everything." Turning back to Ronon, Rodney's shoulders slumped discouragingly. "What if this time I can't? What if there's nothing to save?" He let that sink in before continuing. "I mean seriously, how many lives do we think Sheppard has?!"

Abruptly Rodney turned and walked hurriedly across the Gateroom floor and down the corridor, leaving Teyla, Ronon and Woolsey standing frozen, staring after him.

oOo

Of course, after immersing himself in doom and gloom predictions on Colonel Sheppard's fate Rodney did rally as that formidable brain of his kicked into gear.

"It wasn't an accident," he announced, striding into Woolsey's office early the next morning.

"Doctor McKay," Woolsey looked at the other man closely, "you look like hell. Did you even go to bed last night?"

"No," Rodney said abruptly. "It wasn't an accident ... I don't know the who yet and the how was incredibly difficult to determine but that wormhole was redirected deliberately ... for a reason."

"Colonel Sheppard was abducted?" Woolsey asked disbelievingly.

"Isn't that what I just said?" Rodney returned impatiently. "The subroutine I detected during the dialling sequence was designed to collect power sufficient to cause a wormhole redirection. That flash might have looked all encompassing but the main force was precisely calculated and directed at a specific point."

"Where did the subroutine come from then?" Woolsey queried, thoughts of more than one likely enemy capable of that level of subterfuge circling through his head.

"I think the more interesting 'where' question is where the wormhole was redirected to," Rodney countered with that smug 'I know something you could never work out on your own' look on his face.

"You know where Colonel Sheppard is?" Woolsey made an almost growling sound in frustration. "Why didn't you say that in the first place?!"

"Because I don't know where he is," Rodney returned. "I know where the wormhole went but whether Sheppard is still there or not is a different question."

"Okay, where did the wormhole go then?" Richard asked, playing along somewhat irritably.

"To the Stargate nearest M7G-677," Rodney said simply. "By my calculations that would be M3A-143."

"What do we know about it?" Woolsey queried.

"Ah ...," Rodney hesitated for a moment before ploughing on. "The most recent intel we had said Genii stronghold but with the Hoffan virus and the Replicators it's unlikely they could have maintained their position there."

"Unlikely but not impossible," Woolsey pointed out.

"Look," Rodney's voice rose in volume in anticipation of what he knew was coming next. "We need to go ... right now. The longer we delay the worse it could be for Sheppard."

"There's a clear protocol to follow here Doctor McKay," Woolsey said insistently. "I can hardly report to my superiors that valid security measures were skipped simply because of your impatience. Prepare a MALP."

"But -," Rodney began his protests again.

"A MALP Doctor McKay," Woolsey broke in, leaving Rodney almost spluttering. "If the situation is favourable you and the rest of your team can attempt to locate Colonel Sheppard." When the other man continued to stand there looking incredulous, Richard almost smiled ... almost. "I thought you indicated time was of the essence Doctor. Why are you still standing there?"

"Right," Rodney muttered, frowning at Woolsey for a moment before turning and hurrying from his office.

Authors Note:

I meant this to be a post every day story BUT the internet Gods conspired against me and stole my internet away for TWO WHOLE DAYS! It was torture I tell you! Hope the wait was worth it ...