Puddle Jumper Down

by ltcoljsheppard

John Sheppard’s puddle jumper crashes on an alien planet with one passenger on board - Colonel Steven Caldwell. The two men have to depend on one another if they’re going to survive.

4. Chapter 4

Title: Puddle Jumper Down (part 4)

Author: ltcoljsheppard

Rating: PG-13, Gen Team adventure

Word count: 6489

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Yrsa Province
Zoser

Riding Out

Fortunately it only took one stop to finish procuring everything the team needed to see them through the jungles and mountains of Zoser. Within the hour, Lorne, Ronon, and Teyla had met back up with Sam and the rest of their party in a large city square that appeared to be a standard departure point for expeditions and safaris. They'd made one more trip to the tavern to have a good hot meal with their new guide, Ioann, in tow and to use the tavern's facilities to change into clothing that were more rider friendly than standard BDUs.

Once they'd changed the team returned to the square and each member of their party made a last check of their gear and tack, tightening saddle girth's and bridle fittings before mounting up. Ronon took a moment to make sure all was secure on the spare renthans they were bringing for Sheppard and Caldwell. For now the spare animals carried extra gear and supplies, but by the time they would be needed as riding mounts, that equipment would be lessened during the trip. Returning to the renthan Sam was holding for him, he smiled to see the big gray roan was the same mount he'd had from his previous trip. Setting foot to stirrup, Ronon swung easily astride the big animal and then turned to await Sam's order to move out.

She handed the reins up to him with a dry smile before she strode over to swing up onto the back of her own mount. "Had to be horses," she muttered to herself and Ronon grinned at her. The Colonel hesitated for a moment then, recalling the few riding lessons she'd had as a child, managed to gain her own saddle with little to no embarrassment. The others were already mounted, so she looked to them and nodded. "Kenshi and Lorne take point. Ronon, I'd like you and Teyla at our six. Doctors, in the center and follow me."

It was like riding a bike. Why did people always say that? Dr. Beckett couldn't be completely sure why or where the saying had come from, but once he was seated atop the dusty dun mare, it all came back to him. The movement of the animal beneath him was awkward at first, but his body relaxed into it pretty quickly. Their motion and gait was rather soothing he realized quickly and grinned to himself as he fell in line behind Sam with the strong gusty winds at their backs.

They left the city, following Ioann down a path that brought them to a jungle trail leading toward the mountain range. Here, the vegetation grew more dense and the grass taller. The underbrush thickened as they entered the edges of the jungle and as they moved steadily deeper into the trees the wind became less of a problem as the thick canopy provided a barrier against it.

Here, there was not a single sound of people or wagons, only the sounds they'd become accustomed to for two weeks at base camp, that of chirping bugs and birds and other animal life and the call of a primate that closely resembled a cuscus from Earth and the flutter of wings of the small colorful birds over head.

"Dr. Beckett, Rodney…" Sam looked back at the two doctors riding side by side just ahead of the two pack animals. "Be sure to keep a look out for anything that could be a predator. If you spot anything, a quick 'duck' or 'fire' will suffice."

"Oh yes," McKay quipped, "because that's just so comforting."

Ioann couldn't help but chuckle at the comment from Rodney. "Actually, most of the animals we will see for the first leg of the trip won't be predatory by nature. A few are territorial and stay close to their established boundaries around the caves and mountain dens. We'll need to be more concerned with some of the insects that can exist in dense masses, as well as a few species of brightly colored amphibians, nasty little buggers they are.

"When we reach some of the more open areas, large clearings that harbor some of the larger species of birds here… they are called Diladacus. You do not want to become their focus. They can, and will, kill you if you venture too close to a nest or hatchling. Rhea, the young woman whose husband helped you outfit these animals..." he trailed off briefly, patting his mare lightly on the neck. "They lost their young daughter a few months ago, the young one had wandered away from her parents during a nature hike and stumbled across a Diladacus. They were too slow to reach her." Ioann told them. "And we will need to be careful especially around the rivers when we get closer to the rocky areas. A fierce hunter lives there. A large cat with teeth like swords, it is very large, very fast, and very smart. They sleep in caves during the day and become active at night to hunt."

Everyone exchanged glances but nobody said what they were all thinking. Teyla noted Ronon looking to her with a pained expression and she offered him a smile. "Do not worry. Colonel Sheppard is well-trained and I'm sure Colonel Caldwell has experience in such situations if they did indeed crash. They both have excellent survival skills.

"Indeed," Carson nodded and interjected his own comments to try to help to waylay fears. "And I know for a fact that Colonel Sheppard keeps his medic training up to date so, if either of them are hurt, I trust in his ability to keep the situation stable until I can get there." The doctor gave a slight shrug, "There's not much more to it than that."

"And if he's the one who's injured?" McKay asked with a tone that held a bit of fear as well as a challenge to the good doctor's sense of logic.

Carson shot him a look. "Well, thank you, Rodney," Beckett tossed back, "then I suppose we have to hope that Colonel Caldwell also has significant field training in first aid." He ended with a bit of a huff that made Rodney suddenly realize that his own comments were working against Carson's attempts to keep hope alive and spirits up.

_________________________________________

Crash Site, Morning

Sheppard's brain started swirling as his senses came online again. Sounds, like song birds and chittering woodland creatures were playing their way into his slowly waking brain. The smells permeating his olfactory senses, the dirt covered metal beneath his body, the fragrance of the jungle flora above them and his own day-old sweat filled his nostrils. He moaned and tried to open his eyes as he became aware of the heavy dense air that made it feel as though he was trying to breathe through a wet rag. The heat and humidity of the planet's rain forests above were so intense that it even seeped into the cooler atmosphere of the underground cave through the giant hole in the cave's ceiling where the Jumper had crashed through the planet's surface.

He groaned again as he realized just how uncomfortable waking up was becoming then took a slow deep breath through his nose as his muscles began to stretch. He yawned as his brain cried for oxygen and his hand slid from his belly and fell to the floor. John opened his eyes slowly as if hung over or drugged and he finally lifted his head from the metal floor.

Rolling onto his side slowly, he looked over at Caldwell who was sitting up at the edge of the door. His head was pounding again and John thought as bad as it felt he had nothing to complain about. He sniffed and slowly shifted to try to stand, feeling every stiffened muscle scream as it was forced to stretch out again and work.

"Why don't you take a minute and just relax?" Caldwell suggested as if annoyed. The comment caused John to stop in motion and blink at him.

"What happened?" he asked.

"You don't remember?" Steven asked with that tone. You know the tone. The one he uses when he rolls his eyes slightly and treats you like your lack of memory really puts him out. John thought about it for a few seconds and then slowly shook his head as he sat down on the floor, resting his back against the bench a few feet away from the other officer. "You, umm… passed out," Caldwell informed him. "You don't listen very well," he stated as if it wasn't new news to either of them. "I told you to get some rest. You were in this aircraft when it crashed too, ya' know."

"Yeah," John breathed out heavily and put a flat palm against the knot on top of his head, "I remember."

"You did way too much yesterday," Caldwell mentioned, his tone slightly scolding and reminding John of his dear ole dad again. "I told you to take it easy… to let me help out."

"It may come as a surprise to you, Colonel," Sheppard replied, "but you're worse off than I am."

"Well, this may come as a surprise to you, Colonel," Caldwell retorted, "but you have a good sized knot on top of your head… and the fact that it's not bleeding like mine does not necessarily mean that yours is of lesser concern. And I need you to take care of yourself… I won't make it down here without you."

That last comment made John's eyes dart over to the Daedalus' commander. The two men regarded each other silently and John figured that last part was either really difficult for Caldwell to admit to himself much less say out loud… or he was simply stating the facts. Even Sheppard knew that to be true, which was why he'd tried to take it all on himself. He nodded and let out a sigh.

He shifted himself and pushed against the bench, making it to his feet with a total lack of grace John fished for the bottle of Tylenol from the kit. Keeping his back to Caldwell, who was watching him carefully, John simply opted to upend the bottle and deposited about half a dozen pills onto his tongue. He capped the bottle and slipped it into his vest pocket, then used his personal canteen to wash down the pills that were stuck to his dry throat.

He took another few seconds to be sure his head was on straight and his legs were now solidly under him before he turned around and headed for the open hatch where Caldwell sat as sentry.
"Time to make the donuts," he cracked and Caldwell grit his teeth and shook his head slightly.

John stepped carefully over the injured leg of his watchman. "You okay? I'm going to go see if I can find something better than MRE's and Power Bars. We should eat fresh if we can and save the emergency supplies for… later."

Caldwell knew what later meant. It meant later when we're both so beaten down and our injuries pull us under and neither one of us will be able to fend for our survival anymore and the only thing they'll have left is what is within arms' reach.

John pulled on another vest with full supplies and secured an empty backpack to the clips on his shoulders. He then grabbed a Gerry can from its secure spot on the wall. "Maybe try to find a source of fresh water too," he mentioned and then walked down the ramp.

Standing outside the Jumper, John looked up at the hole in the cave's high ceiling. The trees high above them were already dancing in the winds that, for now, appeared to be slow and steady as the sun rose above the horizon. Because he was looking up into a clearing in the trees he could see the sun's light glinting off the shiny leaves above. He could hear the animals and birds of the jungle waking up too and watched as two colorful birds flushed from the trees above to take flight over their position.

He then dropped his gaze and looked around the inside of the cave again. It was dark, even here under the sun roof his ship had created in the underground tunnels. He moved back inside and walked to the cockpit. He opened the compartment behind the pilot's seat and removed a large, million candle power flashlight. Then he foraged in the cargo net of the top shelf and brought down a heavy rubberized, foldable, water procurement pouch, opting to take that on the first excursion. No sense in carrying around a heavy Gerry can for nothing if there isn't water to be found. He then grabbed himself a P-90 and stuffed a couple of full mags into his vest pockets and checked his sidearm before replacing it in his holster. Stepping over Caldwell again, he descended the ramp and turned to look at Steven.

"You gonna be okay? I won't be gone long."

Caldwell nodded. "I'll be right here. Just be sure and make plenty of noise when you come back. I'd hate to shoot you by mistake."

"Yeah, that would ruin my day for sure," John quipped as he fished the buckle out from inside the chest flap of his vest.

"… and no bringing home any alien women..." Caldwell mentioned as a jab at the younger man's reputation. Then he leaned back to get a bit more comfortable, reaching up to rub the damp towel along his face to wipe away the sheen of sweat coating his face and head.

"No women? Gee, but our new digs are such a babe magnet. I think dark, dank and dangerous is in this year," John quipped as he snapped his 90 onto his vest. Then he looked at the injured man closely. "Do you need to... umm... you know... before I go?" he asked, indicating that he realized the colonel hadn't had a chance to relieve himself at all if even he needed to yet.

Caldwell arched an eyebrow as if to ask, then gave the "oh" face as he realized what Sheppard was referring to. "Not yet, not exactly full of food and fluids at the moment. I'll be fine..." Caldwell wiped at his forehead and face with the towel again. "Damn, this place is an oven.."

"Yeah," John agreed, feeling the sweat roll down his spine already and he hadn't even begun to exert himself. "I'll be sure to whistle or something on the way back," he assured the Colonel, looking at the fully locked and loaded weapon on Caldwell's lap. "Would hate to get shot with my own weapon," he replied with a wavering grin.

Caldwell looked at him for a moment and wondered if Sheppard actually feared being taken out by a fellow officer. He certainly hadn't made things easy on the Lt. Colonel since their first meeting, although things had eased considerably between them over the years.

John chewed on his bottom lip thoughtfully, as he contemplated leaving the injured man alone, then snapped the large flashlight on and began to walk away from the open hatch. He stooped down and tossed a couple of small logs on the dying fire and the flame immediately kicked up a bit. They didn't really need it for heat as much as for light down here, and since Caldwell couldn't move about easily it would afford him a nicely lit area about ten yards further in a semi-circle around his position. Just before John ducked into the first tunnel-like opening, he looked back over his shoulder at Steven then ventured into the unknown cave.

Caldwell watched Sheppard move into the cave opening, sending a silent wish of luck with him. Shifting his position a bit to take some pressure off his back side, Steven winced with a twinge of pain from the splinted leg and then settled again. His eyes went back to the perimeter of the camp, his fingers tight around the P90 and then he watched the glow of Sheppard's powerful flashlight bouncing around inside the tunnel and after a few moments the glow faded until the mouth of the tunnel was pitch black again.

John made his way through the dark tunnel system following the sounds of running water that he'd picked up on about twenty minutes ago. He couldn't help but think at certain points that this would be a spelunker's dream. Many of the walls were shiny black and reflected his flashlight beam almost blindingly when aimed at the right angle. Some of the passages he came to were quite narrow, but allowed him entry easily and Sheppard found himself thankful that he hadn't gained a lot of weight since coming to Pegasus. He easily snaked his tall, lean frame through very tight areas, having to climb over hills or mounds that he figured were formed when the low ceiling gave way under the obvious water erosion.

Signs of water flowing through the area were both good and bad. It gave him hope of further survival if he could find the source, but also worried him as to what lay above their heads. For all he knew they could be sitting in a sink hole, a water-eroded sink hole, beneath a very heavy lake of some sort. Okay, not going to think that particular thought.

A few times he spotted what appeared to be sunlight ahead, and each time he'd thought he'd found a way out only to find it was simply another opening high above in the ceiling allowing the light to stream in. He began to think of these holes in the cave ceiling as gopher holes and it was beneath one of these large "gopher holes" that his foot kicked something that rolled away and he spun around to see something roll into the shadow of a large rock. He went over to pick it up and looked at it closely. It was about the size of a grapefruit and oblong with a soft fuzz on the outside... he sniffed at it and blinked. It smelled like strawberries and kiwi.

Fruit!

Okay, this beats Power Bars.

Now he focused his attention on the floor of the cavern to see dozens of these fuzzy objects. He released his pack and dropped it to the ground. Unbuckling the flap, he pulled open the drawstring top to deposit the cave fruit into the empty compartment. John inspected the rest of them, finding nine out of more than a dozen that looked freshly dropped this morning or overnight and six more that were a bit older but still firm and sweet smelling, the rest he left for any scavengers. Lifting the weighted pack he clipped it back to his shoulders and continued on.

He went on for another fifteen minutes before he was forced to stop for a long drink. It was a strange atmosphere in the tunnels; damp and cool, yet at the same time, humid and stuffy. He was sweating profusely and his head was beginning to throb again. He figured he'd been gone long enough and it was time to get back before Caldwell thought something happened to him. It was hard enough being limited in your own defense, but being injured and immobile and left to think ... John turned around and re-traced his steps back through the tunnels, following his own footprints in the sand when he could.

At one point, he had to make his way carefully down a sloping rock formation that was made quite slippery by the constantly trickling water that ran down the walls of this particular tunnel. He draped his arm over a boulder to ease himself down the final five foot drop when something touched his arm. He looked up casually and startled at the huge furry spider-looking thing that was perched on his forearm and giving him the evil eye... or the evil thousand-eyed stare was a more apt description. Sheppard yelped in surprise, the memory of the Iratus bug incident still fresh in his mind even five years later. He yanked his arm free, letting go of the boulder and sending the giant tarantula back into the shadows as he dropped the final meter to the sandy ground below.

He fell to his knees when he hit and then scrambled down the tunnel a few yards before turning back with his weapon aimed in case it, or it and its buddies, were coming after him. John's heart was pounding and he panted heavily for air in the tight, dark, humid space. Okay... now he could understand a little of McKay's claustrophobia. He swallowed thickly and backed out of the area, suddenly feeling as though he didn't have enough eyes of his own. Trying to look forward and back and down to his feet then up toward the ceiling all at the same time, John moved swiftly through the twisting tunnels.

When the tunnel finally opened into a wide open cavernous area, John let out a long breath and leaned against the wall, allowing his weapon to hang unattended. His head hurt again, so he popped a few tablets from the bottle in his pocket and swallowed a long gulp of water. He listened to the jungle sounds overhead and enjoyed the bright sunlight above whenever he reached one of the "gopher holes" that offered not only light and fresh fruit, but wood for a fire as well as fresh air.

He took a few minutes' rest, to settle his nerves and take in the surroundings, trying to get good bearings of the surrounding area leading to their camp. Looking back toward the tunnel he'd just exited, John hoped those spider things didn't like to leave their immediate territory inside the deep tunnels.

Caldwell sighed, looking around the perimeter for the hundredth time and seeing exactly nothing. He let his hand drift up to rub along his chin, muttering at the new stubble he felt there. Boredom began to make him think and that was the last thing needed for someone whose head was pounding like a bass drum. Caldwell finally reached back and began to ease himself up and deeper into the Jumper. He settled against one of the benches and looked around in the dim lighting that Sheppard had managed to activate right after their crash.

He sat back with a huff, frustrated that with all the high tech equipment sitting around him, and the fact that he commanded one of the most advanced space vehicles ever built by human beings. And yet, here he sat, wounded and helpless… an invalid with no way to call for help or even send out a signal. It was like being back in the 1800's.

The... 1800's?

Caldwell sat up suddenly, eyes going wide as he let out a couple of involuntary sounds. The first was a gasp of surprise at the idea that had just come to him, followed quickly by a grunted "ow" as his hand shot up to gently hold the bandage on his head. Caldwell kept his hand there as he looked around. Reaching out he grasped his vest that Sheppard had removed the day before and pulled it toward him, tugging the small radio from the left shoulder pocket. He sat up straighter, looking around the Jumper's interior and then back to his vest. He fished into another pocket and tugged out a multi-functional tool from one of the other pouches and proceeded to get himself busy.

Nearly two hours after he'd left the Jumper, John stepped out of the tunnel's entrance opposite the campsite. He could see the reflection of the orange flame dancing off the cave walls and he whistled loudly in one long sharp note to alert Caldwell that he was approaching.

"Ollie, Ollie, oxen free... please don't shoot… because it's me," he half-sang, in relief that he'd made it back without being eaten by the dinner plate sized tarantula. That thought again made him shudder.

John approached the other man who was sitting now just inside the hatch opening. Coming around the fire, he smiled and shared his adventure. "I was almost a spider's dinner," he shared with his crash companion, "... and yes, there are spiders that big in here. So no wandering off," he pointed at Caldwell as if the man could just take off on his own. "On the bright side... I found some fresh fruit."

John paused as he realized his sentry hadn't acknowledged his return nor was he precisely where he'd left him. Sheppard tilted his head slightly as he watched and wondered what Caldwell was doing there, inside the Jumper. "Hello?" he said as he put a foot up on the ramp.

Caldwell was sitting a bit awkwardly and he had a small equipment case on his lap as a makeshift table, his hand radio was opened up and taken apart, and he was tinkering at it with his multi-tool. He didn't even look up until Sheppard was almost inside the open hatch.

"Sheppard! I had an idea while you were gone!" He hissed in a breath and winced a bit from the sudden outburst and paused to take a deep breath.

"I... can see that," John replied with a bemused expression as he came inside the Jumper and sat down on the bench facing the colonel. His eyes scanned all the pieces of the portable radio that were spread out around Caldwell, the tool in his hand as he tinkered with the radio's guts, a sheen of sweat glistening on his head and face.

"Listen," Caldwell explained, "...this mineral interferes with our normal transmissions because our modern, high-tech radios are built to relay very clear verbal transmissions and to carry a voice between the transmitters and receivers... that takes a lot of power and frequency clarity."

"Right," Sheppard agreed, "and you thought taking the radio apart would... use less power?" he asked, as if humoring the man.

Caldwell gestured around him to the Jumper interior. "I don't know a lot about these Jumpers, but you do, so listen to me first and then tell me what you think." Caldwell shifted a bit and grunted as his leg pain flared a bit.

Sheppard watched him warily, taking note of his pain every time the Colonel winced or grunted. He was more focused on assessing his patient than really paying attention to how the man had occupied his time while bored. From what he'd been told, this mineral made all high-tech communications worthless. But if this is how Caldwell was able to maintain some semblance of sanity while having to just sit around on his ass all day, well, John shrugged mentally and listened to what Steven was saying.

"The Jumper's batteries are probably still very strong, even if the onboard systems seem to be damaged in some way, so we have a hell of a lot of power for my idea to work… maybe."

"What idea?" John asked.

"What if..." Caldwell leaned forward a bit. "We connect the Jumper's power source to the transmitter of one of these radios, to boost its own power, but instead of trying for clear voice transmissions... we simply focus all the power into something simple...like a tone." He watched Sheppard's face to see if he was catching on. John simply looked back at him evenly, his eyes shone dull as if he was not amused nor entertained as he listened, so Caldwell went on. "I think I can fiddle this radio enough to interrupt the tone by depressing the transmit button... just like an old fashioned telegraph key." Caldwell grinned a bit wider now.

"So you're thinking Morse Code. Send out an S.O.S," Sheppard summed up as Caldwell smiled at him. John nodded slowly and chewed on his bottom lip for a moment, thinking. "That's a good idea, Colonel. Definitely worth a shot..." he said then paused. "Of course, you have to understand that very few people nowadays even knows Morse Code. I used it back when I was taken captive by Larrin and her crew... and the only person who caught my mayday in Morse, through all the other garbled crap on that frequency, was McKay... and I doubt Rodney's radio, even if he's still on the planet, could pick up our transmission without altering his own..."

"I don't know if it'll go very far," Caldwell admitted, "… and it probably won't, and it doesn't have a chance in hell of reaching orbit, but it might reach any search teams in the area. I doubt they'll be able to respond, but at least they'll know we're here and that we're alive." Caldwell leaned back and let out a breath as his head ached with the beat of his own pulse. "And... they might be able to use the signal as a rudimentary directional finder, heading in whatever direction the signal is loudest once we leave it on..."

John thought about that too and then actually shrugged with an honest consideration of the idea. "So it wouldn't matter if they understood whether it's Morse or not. It would simply give them a signal to hone in on... like a transponder," he mentioned with a nod and then stopped with a thought. "But this Jumper already has an onboard transponder... and a rescue beacon... and we both have our personal transmitters," he reminded Caldwell tapping on his own forearm over the techno-gadget that'd been placed under his skin.

Caldwell sat back, exhausted by the work he had been doing and by the adrenaline rush caused by the exhilaration of his idea. He breathed heavily as he looked up at Sheppard. "Well? Do I sound insane? - and did you say fruit?"

"Yes," Sheppard answered solidly, not clarifying which question he was actually responding to. He reached into his pack and pulled out a large fuzzy, sweet-smelling kiwi looking thing and handed it to the other officer. "I'm not saying it's not worth a try... anything is worth a try... but I wouldn't get my hopes up too high. I know it sucks, being stuck down here, like this, with me, but..." John paused again, not really wanting to go to the obvious futility of their situation as it stood right now.

Instead, he stood up and went to the radio control box under the front console in the cockpit. Pulling off the cover panel he scanned the insides of it. It was definitely high-tech and ancient-y, but he was pretty sure it had to work about the same as the radio box on any one of his old choppers. "I think we can do this..." he suddenly told Caldwell and Steven looked to him with a renewed hope. "After breakfast..." he added as his stomach growled so loud it rumbled through the entire ship.

He moved out of the cockpit and sat down on the bench again. He reached out and took the fruit from Caldwell's hand as his other hand snaked behind him to unsheathe his knife. He held the fragrant fruit in one palm and pushed the blade of his knife into it, splitting it down the length, then carefully rotated it on end to let the blade encircle it all the way around. He could feel the resistance of a large fruit pit in the center and once he'd segmented the two halves, he put the knife down on the bench and slowly pulled the pieces away from the pit with a slight twist.

Sheppard scanned the inside of the fruit, looking for anything that appeared too alien or might indicate that it may not be good to eat. He looked at Caldwell then sniffed the meaty part of it. It still smelled of strawberries and kiwi. John set one half down beside him and pulled the skin of the fruit back along the edge, throwing a glance to Caldwell again who was watching him intently. He took a slow cautious bite of it and chewed it slowly, swallowing the sweet juice and then waited.

"It's good..." he mentioned with raised eyebrows, just as information to share as he waited to see if it would double him over in excruciating pain, frothing at the mouth and convulsing...

Jeezus, John, he thought, slapping himself mentally for the imagination he was stricken with. He stared straight ahead, facial muscles tense and set into a frown as he waited to keel over dead. Half a minute passed, then a whole minute. Caldwell was still watching him as if to say 'well??'

Sheppard blinked, then looked down at the bitten fruit in his hand, sucked a piece of it out of his tooth with a loud noise and shrugged. "I guess it's okay to eat. I'm not dead," he informed the Colonel and handed the injured man the other half, then scraped the pit out of his half with the knife blade and stuffed the seed into his pocket for the science botany team, just in case.

As he sat quietly, eating his fresh breakfast, John kept sliding his eyes to the other officer. He felt bad in so many ways he couldn't even sort them out in his own head before getting confused and just shaking them away. Of all people to get stranded with, he thought, unaware he was shaking his head with the thought. Of all people to bust up in a crash... stupid.

He finished up his half of the fruit as quick as he could manage without scoffing it down and choking on it then stood up. He couldn't seem to sit still for more than a few minutes at a time and he didn't even realize it. His only thoughts were on finding a way to get the injured man rescued... that was his duty... his responsibility. He was responsible for them being here. He was responsible for so much...

There was just so much that happened so often that was his fault.

That thought hit him again like a slap in the face and he turned his back to the man on the floor. John closed his eyes and tried not to think about his father, his brother, his ex-wife, Dex and Mitch... those three Rangers in Afghanistan he couldn't save in time... Capt. Holland who died on him during extraction from behind enemy lines.

His thoughts jumped right over the fact that after Holland died in the desert while he was trying to drag and carry the body to safety, John had been caught and taken prisoner. He deserved it, he figured.

Then there was Colonel Sumner. And the Wraith. Their awakening was due to his actions, his actions alone. Like the Ancients that came before him, he'd set the stage and set that vampiric scourge on the helpless people of the Pegasus... and their threat was now focused on Earth too. There was just so much that John Sheppard touched that went so bad so often.

No! Stop with this self-defeating bullshit! Think, John!

He took a deep breath and pushed those thoughts away again, covering his own moment of self-pity by grabbing a new water bottle from the top cargo area and turning around to give it to Caldwell.

"Here," he said simply. "I'm going to go explore the other side of this cavern. There's got to be a way out of here." He stood there for a moment just looking at the senior officer before saying quietly, "I'll find a way out. I'll make sure you get home..." He vowed that to Caldwell, nodding in assurance.

Before he allowed too many of his own dark thoughts to set upon him, John swallowed thickly and cleared his throat. He reached into a large plastic box and pulled out a handful of six inch long green chemical lights that had a 12-hour light life.

Turning on his heel he marched out of the Jumper to go tend to the fire, more so to give himself something to do than actually needing the flame. A few minutes passed as he scanned the interior darkness of the cave again, listening to Caldwell's tinkering inside with the small two-way radio. He turned his head to look over his shoulder discreetly to check on the man sitting inside then moved about the cave, collecting more wood for the fire so they could cook their MRE's later. They'd at least have a hot meal in their bellies to sleep on later, until then they had a long day ahead of them and a good seven hours left he figured to explore.

Once he dropped the arm load of fire wood beside the campfire, he left Caldwell with a comment that he was heading out again and disappeared this time around the other side of the Jumper. There were numerous tunnels that threaded through the cavernous area and he snapped open a chem-light and dropped it on the ground a few feet inside each tunnel before he exited it so that he could tell which tunnels to follow back. He walked along at a rather brisk pace as this direction afforded wider and more spacious wormholes through the hard rock earth. Wormholes. John grinned wryly at the thought that most of his travel nowadays was through one sort of wormhole or another.

He walked along for nearly an hour when he saw a bright light ahead. He didn't let himself get excited about it because he'd seen those false lights through other tunnels before. As he got closer to the light though John frowned with curious thoughts. The shadows of the rocks along the ground were stretching toward him as if… as if the light was coming in horizontally and not from above. He paused for a heartbeat and then ran forward to find a large opening at the mouth of the cavern but the cave's opening was now blocked by a rock fall.

The light was definitely from the sunlight outside the cavern and John climbed a few feet up the rockslide to peer through the opening between two large boulders that sat cock-eyed atop one another. He could see a green meadow outside and the tall grass waving in the strong breeze. There were small butterflies flittering around the wild flowers and if he tilted his head and squinted against the bright blue sky he could see birds soaring in the sky above.

John grinned crookedly, his hands gripping the cool sand covered rocks and let his eyes roam over the obstruction in his way. Stepping backward he dropped off the rock formation and put his hands on his hips as he considered his options.

TBC'd