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Now on with the story...John was already pretty beat in the first chapter, so what's going to happen now?
THE PATH NOT TAKEN.
CHAPTER 2.
John sprinted out the jumper and jogged over to where a weary looking Lorne was talking to sgt Mason. The sergeant nodded to Lorne then saluted them both, before quickly walking away.
Lorne was visibly exhausted. The dark shadows under his eyes made his usually healthy complexion look pale, and his shoulders were drooping under his dusty uniform.
"You look beat, Major." John told him. "Give me a sit rep, then return to base for some shut eye."
"No disrespect, Sir, but I don't like to leave while there's still all these people to evacuate." Lorne sounded worried, as his eyes raked the large line of people still waiting for a ride to safety, and then upwards to the heavens.
John followed his gaze and saw the darkening sky. When he'd left the planet yesterday, there had only been a sight haze muting the pale blue sky, but today was a different story. Dense ash clouds had nearly obliterated the sun, and a faint rancid smell of sulphur was tainting the air, making it musty. It was also hot, and he could already feel his feet getting uncomfortably warm even through the thick soles of his boots.
From all the signs, it was pretty clear Mother Nature had upped the ante since he'd last been there. He was no geologist, but from what John remembered from Taranus, it looked like their twenty-four hour window had been reduced to twelve, or maybe even less. One thing was certain, it would take more than the three waiting jumpers to evacuate the growing line of anxious people.
"You're dead on your feet, Major, so the order stands." John pressed the issue, but kept his tone light to take the sting out the command. "When you get back to Atlantis, tell Dr Weir I need an extra couple of jumpers out here, stat."
John took another glance upwards and frowned. "Hopefully, with the extra push we should be able to get everyone out before we lose the light."
Lorne hesitated for a moment, as if he was going to object but then nodded. "Yes, Colonel."
John was watching his XO enter the next transport back to Atlantis, when he saw Teyla hurry towards him. Tendrils of damp hair that had escaped her ponytail were sticking to her flushed face, and as John could see she was concerned about something, he didn't even bother with the pleasantries. "What's up, Teyla?"
"We have a problem. The First Minister's father is refusing to leave his farm…and he has forbidden to allow any of his workers to go either." Her cultured voice was edgy with frustration as Teyla stood with one hand on her hip, while the other pushed a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "I have tried reasoning with him. Doctor Samuels, the geologist in charge has tried too. The old man refuses to listen to anyone – not even his son."
Teyla looked at him apologetically. "I am sorry, John, but the First Minister has asked if you would come and speak to him."
John inwardly groaned. With so much else to deal with, this was one complication he didn't need. "Sure, of course I will. But if he won't listen to you guys, what makes you think he'll listen to me?"
Teyla shrugged, her tired face more strained than usual. "The minister is convinced that the word of the military leader might have more clout. Apparently his father used to be a major in the army before he was invalided out and took up farming."
At that moment, the ground started to tremble and cries of terror came from the line. John instinctively reached to steady Teyla, and held her until the tremors stopped.
It was over, almost as soon as it had started, but the terrifying turn of events had left everyone shaken. Frightened women were holding onto their sobbing children so close, John was worried the kids might suffocate. Others, mainly men, began arguing. They were pushing and jostling people who only yesterday would have been neighbours or friends, just to get further up the line. When panic took hold liked this, John knew things could turn nasty real quick. He was relieved to see his men were on top of the situation, but a quick glance at his watch told him if they didn't hurry, they wouldn't get everyone out in time.
"How far away is this place, and how many people are we talking about?" John realised he was still holding onto Teyla's arm, and released it immediately.
"The farm is located near a small coppiced wood, about five miles from here. I understand there are about seven workers as well as the First Minister and his father." Teyla told him.
"Right, let's do this." John led the way over to his recently vacated jumper. In the short time since he'd arrived it had already been filled with a handful of refugees, and with the extra people he was going to collect, he knew it was going to be a tight squeeze – but what choice did he have? Lt Morris was at the controls and when John walked in, the pilot immediately rose to give John his seat.
John smiled at the worried people as he walked in, and waved the pilot back down. "Thanks, Lieutenant, but this is your ride. Although I would appreciate if we could make a short detour before we take these folks to the alpha site."
"Sir?" The fair-haired young man looked puzzled.
John sat down in the co-pilots chair and buckled up. He nodded over his shoulder to his team mate, who had taken the seat behind him. "We're heading to a farm about five miles from here - Teyla will give you directions."
The young man sat up a little straighter. "Yes, Sir!"
Morris was new, having only arrived in Atlantis a couple of weeks ago, and it was obvious his presence was making him nervous.
John suppressed a smile and wondered if he'd ever been that in awe of any commander, but didn't think so. It was obvious the new recruit was trying to impress him, so he tore his eyes away from the controls, and fixed them on the way ahead, even if it nearly killed him to do it. Fact was, he couldn't help himself. Despite declining to take the controls, every fibre of his being was desperate to take over. It was always the same when it came to flying and John conceded, at least privately, he was the worst kind of backseat driver.
When he'd first started flying, there was no way he would've given up his ride to anyone, but he was a commander now, so his priorities had changed accordingly. The Pegasus galaxy was a dangerous place, and the young men under his command needed to gain experience if they were to handle themselves against the Wraith – amongst others. Still, John couldn't deny it was taking all of his self control to keep his itchy fingers in check.
"It is in this area." Teyla stood up and leaned on the back of John's chair. She peered through the viewfinder at the landscape flying past. "There it is. It is the house with the thatched roof just past that small outcrop of trees on the left."
Morris glanced over at John, looking for instructions. John folded his arms and nodded. "You heard the lady, Lieutenant. Take her down."
"Yes, Sir."
John cringed at the third 'Yes, Sir' in a row. He knew he was being unfair, as the young pilot was only showing his respect, but it still made him feel really, really old.
Morris landed the craft gently in a small clearing about a hundred yards away from the building. "Good, job, Lieutenant." John unbuckled his belt and got to his feet. "Now I'd like you to wait with these people, while I go inside."
When the young man went to open his mouth to speak, John forestalled him. A fourth 'Yes, Sir', was more than he could stand. "There's no need for formalities, Morris, we're just two men on a rescue mission today."
Morris beamed, making the fresh-faced pilot look even younger. John wondered what age he was - eighteen? Nineteen? He wondered if he'd ever looked that young.
The dark-haired kid who'd left home over twenty years ago was no longer in evidence, and sometimes John didn't recognise the middle aged man staring out at him in the mirror. The dark hair was gradually giving way to grey at the temples, and he sure as hell didn't have the same energy any more. Still, as long as he could fly, nothing would make him give up his command.
The First Minister was waiting at the door, and extended a hand in greeting. "I can't thank you enough for coming, Colonel." The tall, middle aged man led him and Teyla inside. "My father has always been a stubborn man. Worse since my mother passed away last year. That's part of the problem you see – he refuses to leave her behind."
"I understand." John responded, and he did. When his own mom died he hadn't wanted to leave her grave and to avoid a scene, his dad had let him be until everyone went home. It was turning dark when his father returned and forcibly dragged him away. He'd kicked and screamed, but dad had just ignored him as he'd lifted him up and put him in the car. John hated him for that - hated the world for taking away the only person who'd truly loved him. He'd only been a kid at the time, and looking back, he realised he hadn't given his dad a choice. Nevertheless, it had taken him a lot of years, too many, to forgive him.
An hour later, John was starting to sympathise with his dad's position. Admittedly he wasn't a diplomat, but he reckoned that even Elizabeth would have trouble dealing with the awkward man. The crinkled blue eyes sparkled with mischief as the elderly farmer shot down everything John proposed. Not that he was nasty, in fact the old guy was quite a character, but all he wanted to do was reminisce about his glory days when he was in charge of an infantry unit.
The trouble was John didn't have time for the prolonged verbal sparring. Since they'd arrived three more tremors had shaken the house each more powerful than the last, and it was clear the situation was becoming critical. He decided to try one more approach. "Sir, from what you've told me it sounds as if you were a force to reckon with. How many men were in your unit?"
"Twelve…and a fine compliment of men they were." The wrinkled face broke into a misty smile.
John nodded. "And I'm sure you all must have shared a strong bond." He smiled over to Teyla. "I have a tight unit too – I'd give my life for any one of them."
"As would I have, if it had been necessary." The elderly man responded, almost indignantly.
John sat back, folded his arms and expressionless, he locked eyes with the farmer. "I can believe that, which is why I'm surprised you're refusing to let your workers leave."
The wrinkled face became scarlet, as the old man sat glaring at John.
John decided to press home his advantage while he could. "Look, I can tell you're a good man, and I understand your reasons for not leaving, but the people who work for you have families and the rest of their lives ahead of them. I'm sure you wouldn't want them to come to any harm."
"They won't. I'll take care of them. I always have." The old man blurted, stuttering with anger.
His son came over and put his hand on the old gnarled shoulders. "Father, I know you don't believe us, but if you won't listen to our words, then at least acknowledge what is going on around you. The tremors are becoming more frequent and soon… you will have no home left. The planet is dying – please, I don't want you to die along with it."
After a moments silence the farmer looked at John, the fight in his eyes replaced with sadness. "I have been a selfish old man, Colonel, but no more. I would be grateful if you would escort my workers to a place of safety. However," he glanced over at his son. "I will not be coming with you."
"But, father!"
"I was born, raised, and married your mother on this land." He smiled at his son with affection. "You came into the world here too, and if I haven't said so before, I am proud of everything you have achieved. You are a fine leader, Tarlind." The wrinkled hand grasped the hand on his shoulder, and squeezed it. "I am old, my life is coming to an end and I don't want to start again in a strange land. I want to die in my home, so please – respect my wishes."
The house started shaking and the fierce tremor brought ornaments crashing to floor, as dust from the ceiling coated their clothes and hair alike. John couldn't afford to wait any longer and while the two men continued to argue, he went over to his team mate. "Teyla, I want you to gather the workers and escort them out to the jumper. I'm going to wait for the First Minister, but if I'm not out in five minutes – leave without me."
"No – I am not leaving you behind." Teyla's eyes flashed with anger.
By asking her to comprise her principles, John realised he'd offended his team mate. Unfortunately the two men were still deep in conversation, and with the worsening conditions, he couldn't risk the lives of the people in the jumper, or the farm workers any longer.
He raked an impatient hand through his hair, and was surprised when it came away covered with soot. "Hey… I'm not crazy about the idea either, and for the record, I don't intend to hang around any longer than I have to."
Teyla was still staring at him. Her jaw was set, and John knew he would have to do a better job if he was to convince her to leave.
The Athosian was unlike anyone else under his command. Ronon and McKay were both determined men in different ways, but Teyla beat them hands down when she set her mind to it. She could be as stubborn as the old farmer sitting across the room, only obeying orders when she felt they were the right thing to do. John admired her for it, he felt the same way. Except right now, he needed her to do what he asked.
"You are not leaving me behind, Teyla." He reasoned, but when her expression didn't alter he continued. "Look, it's the same for me as the people back in that line. The jumper is going to be packed once you get the workers inside. All I'm asking is for you to get them to safety, and by the time you come back I'll be outside waiting with the First Minister."
John could tell she was wavering, as a conflicted expression flashed across her face. He mentally crossed his fingers.
Teyla gave her ponytail a sharp tug, but the uncertainty was still in her hazel eyes. "Fine, I shall do what you ask, but make sure you are ready to leave when we return."
"Are you kidding me?" John smirked, incredulous, "I don't want to hang around in this hell hole any longer than I have to!"
She didn't return his smile, but held his gaze for a moment longer before walking away. John watched her go, but waited until she was out of sight before letting out a long sigh.
ooooOoooo
Several minutes had passed since the jumper left and John was getting antsy, as the two men were no closer to resolving the situation. He went over to the window, lifted the worn curtains and peered outside. It was black as night, although it only just past midday. He sympathised with the First Minister's position, but it was time to intercede. When the jumper arrived, regardless of the old man's decision; they were both going on it.
Suddenly as John turned to get his attention he heard a familiar noise, and it wasn't the sound of the jumper returning.
"Quiet!"
The two men immediately stopped talking and stared at him, confused, as John put a finger to his lips. He strode over. "I'm sorry…but I need you to listen to me carefully."
This day had already started out badly and now it was going downhill fast. When he went to speak his voice came out rough, as he couldn't get any moisture in his throat. "The Wraith are here – I heard a dart overhead a few minutes ago." For a moment no one spoke, the fear in the room palpable.
The two men followed as he went back to look out the window. He strained to see in the dark, but thought he saw movement in the distance.
"If the Wraith have engaged the Stargate, no one can come back to get us." He explained, and watched them nod in understanding. He turned to the old farmer. "Sir, if you want to stay I'll respect your wishes, but if we have any chance of getting out this house alive, your son and I must leave now."
"I'm coming with you." The old man winced as he stood up a little straighter. John was surprised at the sudden change of heart, and quickly realised the old man had seen his reaction.
"Being taken into the earth of my own planet is one thing," The farmer explained, "but I don't wish to die at the hands of those devils."
John simply nodded, and holding his P90 close to his chest he took the six, leading the men outside.
The air was thick with ash falling down like rain, and John could hardly see a damn thing. He knew the 'gate was only about five miles away. That was an easy jog to someone like him, perhaps a little more effort for the First Minister, but it was going to seem like a marathon for the elderly man. Still it was his job to get them there, hopefully in one piece, so John motioned for the men to follow him into the nearby forest.
It didn't take long before his worst fears were realised. Two Wraith, one of them wearing the familiar bone mask, were making their way towards the house. John didn't think they'd made their position, but he had to get the two men moving as quickly as they could.
He looked through his binoculars, wishing they were equipped for night vision, but couldn't see any other hostiles. John knew only too well, that not having sight of them didn't mean they weren't there.
The sound of a branch snapping made him instantly alert, and John put up his hand for his party to stop. He waved for them to crouch down, then took out his spare side arm and gave it the statesman. "Do you know how to use one of these?"
"If he doesn't, I'll figure it out." The old man smiled.
John nodded. "Good. Now here's what's going to happen. I'm going to lead that sucker away so you can continue towards the 'gate."
The men looked horrified, so John put his game face on, pretending a confidence he didn't feel. "It'll be fine. With luck, I'll make up the ground and be there before you." His smile faded as his expression grew serious. "Either way, you need to keep quiet, and stay low. When you get there if I haven't made it back, these are the co-ordinates for the Alpha site." John scribbled the symbols on a piece of paper and handed it to them.
The First Minster took it, his eyes filled with remorse. "Good luck, Colonel and…well, I'm sorry. We both are, it's our fault for putting you in this position."
"My son is correct, Colonel Sheppard. If I hadn't been such an obstinate fool, this wouldn't have happened."
John privately agreed, but what was done, was done - water under the bridge. Besides, no one had bargained on a visit from the Wraith. He didn't answer, because what more was there to say? John simply nodded and made his way quietly toward the direction he'd heard the noise.
A drone was there, but hadn't heard him coming so John picked up a nearby pebble and threw in the opposite direction from where the men were heading. It had the desired effect as bone head stopped, and started to look around, but then to John's dismay he continued back along the same path, the direction that would soon lead him to the two men.
He cursed his luck, and wished that just once things would go the right way. John wondered what he's done so bad to piss the powers that be off, then remembered it had been him who'd awoke the Wraith. Now he had a guilt trip, just when he needed to stay focused – way to go, John.
John could just about make out the two men from his position, and knew if he could see them, so could the drone. He was running out of options and needed to act fast. Plan 'A' had bombed, so all he was left with was 'Plan B', and it really sucked.
He scanned the area to make sure it was just the one Wraith he was dealing with, and then picked up another pebble and threw it straight at the monster.
"Hi! Don't suppose you'd like to give up without a fight? No? I didn't think so." John didn't want to fire his weapon this close to the house, as the other Wraith would hear him. He turned and started running in the opposite direction, making bone head follow him.
He heard the stunner, and could feel the residual blast as it barely missed his arm, but he only looked around to make sure the drone was still on his tail. He was, so John kept up the pace, running as far from the two men's position as he could.
It was hot, hotter than hell, and the sweat was nearly blinding him as it ran down his face. The muggy atmosphere was making it hard to breathe, and John knew he couldn't keep this relentless pace for long.
The ground shook, just as the blaster fired throwing John to the ground. His right side was numb, but as the Wraith made its way towards him John reached for his side arm with his left hand. He didn't know how long he'd been playing the dangerous game of cat and mouse, but hoped it had been long enough to have given the two men a decent head start, because when he fired, the game would be up.
He lay still allowing the monster to crouch down over his body, and when the Wraith pulled off his tags – John fired.
The Wraith jerked back, momentarily stunned, then side swiped John's head with the back of his hand. Pain exploded in his skull as his head slammed against the dried earth. John's head was spinning, and he could barely see through the sparks of light flashing in his eyes, but with grim determination he kept his finger on the trigger and kept firing.
It was a battle for survival as the bullets seemed to have no effect, and the Wraith continued to batter John's head again, and again, against the ground. Then suddenly the monster went still, its white hair falling over the mask before falling backwards onto the forest floor.
For a moment he just lay there, glad to be alive but when John raised his head the world started spinning, and he couldn't hold back the nausea.
He rolled onto his side spilling his guts, his stomach aching before the dry heaves eventually stopped. This was so not good. He was hurting – bad, and panic threatened to engulf him when he realised he couldn't see out his right eye. The rational side of his brain told him that concussions could cause temporary blindness, and his was a doozy. His heart was racing and he could barely focus, but at least the numbness was starting to wear off, and John knew he had to get moving to give both himself and the two men a chance.
He gritted his teeth, forcing himself to his feet. John stumbled over the lifeless Wraith and would have fallen but for a nearby tree. His P90 was lying only feet from where he'd fallen, but it took more effort than he would have liked before it was back in his hand. The power was gradually coming back to his right side, but his grip on the gun felt tenuous. Either way John staggered on, hoping he was moving in the same direction of the 'gate praying he would reach it, before the Wraith back at the house had a chance to make up the ground.
Each step was arduous, the sheer effort it took to put one foot in front of the other an ordeal, as John struggled to focus on the way ahead.
His head was bursting, the constant pounding keeping time with the beat of his heart. And the sickness wouldn't let up, forcing him onto his knees wasting precious time when there wasn't even anything left to expel.
John didn't know how far he'd travelled, but at the sound of the event horizon bursting into life, he was relieved to know he was going in the right direction. He'd made it, which was good. Question was, where was the First Minister and his father? Plus, was someone dialling out, or in?
Cautiously, John made his way towards the tree line. He could barely see but put a shaking hand up against his bad eye, and tried to focus with his left. The 'gate was indeed straight ahead, and beside it two blurred figures. It was the First Minister and his dad. They were waving and calling his name.
A slow smile grew on his lips, the relief letting go of the weight he didn't know he'd been carrying. John started to move towards them when a sound made him stop dead. His heart sank when he saw the damn drone wasn't dead. It was coming towards him, closing fast, and John knew he wouldn't have time to make it to the 'gate in time.
"Go! I'll follow behind you." He shouted to the waiting men. John couldn't see their faces, but felt, rather than saw their uncertainty.
He fired. Again and again, the P90 spitting bullets making the drone judder, but only slightly slowing its progress. When the monster fell, John found himself shaking. Suddenly the gun was too heavy falling to the ground from his trembling fingers, and the little vision he had left was starting to dim as the darkness started to close in.
John knew he was close to passing out, and stumbled, staggering over his clumsy feet towards the DHD. A tremor pushed him forward, and he put his arms out trying desperately to keep his balance, only too aware if he landed on the ground, he might never get up again.
The tremor had also awoken the drone. It was dying, but in its death knell the beast activated his self destruct. Oblivious to the danger and barely able to see, John reached for the last symbol on the DHD when he felt a sharp pain pierce through his leg. Then the world turned black as he was blown off his feet, and hurled through the horizon…
ooooOoooo
TBC
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