Parallel Evolution4
Boots clomping in perfect time on the hard floor alerted John. He had resumed pacing. Pacing like a caged tiger, just waiting for a chance. Biding his time impatiently. Putting all thoughts of Moira aside, all concerns. He felt the gun securely at his back, in his pants. Remembered the feel of her fingers skimming over his skin. He felt the earpiece secure in his front pocket. He straightened visibly. Stood, hands clasped casually behind his back as the marines came into view. They parted to reveal Reynolds and another man that made John stare.
"Lower the force field. This won't take long. I'm sure you will cooperate, sir," Reynolds said with a smile. The blue energy shield wavered. Disappeared.
"Colonel Everett," John identified as the older, buzz-cut man entered the cell. His expression grim. Lines marked his aged face, but his gait was sure. Steady. "You...you were fed on by the Wraith, in my reality. Sent back to Earth. How–"
"Same here. Then I came back. Beckett found a way to reverse the process. Somewhat." Dillon Everett's voice rasped. Like fingernails on a chalkboard but his narrow eyes were sharp. Penetrating as he stepped up to John. "We need information."
"On what? This is your world, colonel, not mine," John retorted. Taking a step backwards as if intimidated but turning just slightly to keep his back in the shadows. To keep the gun hidden. He flicked a glance at the cell opening where Reynolds stood, holding a data screen. Looked back to see Dillon glaring at him.
"I hated you. Him. But I understood why you killed Sumner. Why you killed O'Meara, even."
John flinched. Kept his composure. "I did not kill Moira. He did."
Dillon smiled briefly. "You'll do the same, if need be. Now, I need intel. Exactly on how you got here in the first place. McKay's working on the physics angle. I need the other. Reynolds!"
Reynolds entered, opened the data screen. Turned it so John could see. Blue colors shifted, faded. A schematic of the city, then the mainland appeared. "Do you see anything significantly different from your Atlantis? Sir," he added as John managed to glare at him. Expectant.
John studied the screen. "No. Except the destruction of the northeast tower. That hasn't happened in my world. In fact I figured that area would be the first to–"
"Yes, so did Sheppard. But the engineers assured otherwise. Their mistake, and now ours. The first incursion happened there. Before we could react."
"They can access your systems with the ATA gene...infiltrate like they never have before," John mused. Rubbed his chin. Glanced up to see Everett staring at him. "I don't see what I can add to this intel. You've got a Sheppard already. He knows what I know, right?"
"True. But your reality is different." Everett grabbed the screen, thrust it towards John who had no other option but to grab it before it fell to the floor. "Access codes."
"Excuse me?" John asked. Tensing.
"Access codes. Now! We need yours. For your city."
"Whoa, whoa, why? And how come they aren't the same for here?" John asked.
"You don't need to know that. Access codes! Now!" Everett motioned. Guns were raised towards John. Threatening.
John closed the data screen. "No," he said mildly.
"You don't have a choice, sir. Or is your Moira's fate nothing to you, hmm?" Reynolds asked.
John met the man's gloating gaze. "Oh, it is. But I know for damn sure she's fine. I know that Sheppard won't let anything happen to her."
"Not until it fulfills his agenda, no. But he's not here all of the time. And Beckett needs her DNA. Needs it real bad, and I can authorize that with a snap of my fingers." Everett demonstrated. Smiled. "So you give us your access codes and I'll be sure to keep Beckett away from her. Simple as that."
"No," John replied. A fist slammed into his face. He spun with the blow, fell to his knees. Felt the gun shift but remain concealed at his back. He wiped the trickle of blood from the corner of his mouth. "Very nice. Is this how Atlantis is these days? Maybe it's not worth saving."
"You bastard! You and your–" Reynolds advanced, fists swinging but Everett restrained him.
"No. We'll get those codes, one way or another. Maybe I'll let Beckett do a little test. Just a little one on your precious girlfriend. Even Sheppard will see the necessity of that. I'll even film it for you so you can watch her pain."
John glowered, moving to his feet as they exited the cell. "Hey! Hey! Where is my dinner? Doesn't this Atlantis feed its prisoners? You know I am John Sheppard! Colonel John Sheppard and in charge of this fucking city! Your spare Sheppard in case the first one falls, did you ever think of that? Give me my fucking dinner!"
"Get him some food," Reynolds ordered. Glanced back as the force field resumed. He waited until Dillon had left with the contingent of marines. "You made a good point, sir. A spare Sheppard. We could use that." Then he was gone.
**********************************************************************
Moira relaxed a little, just a little as Sheppard stretched out on the bed. Scooting up next to her. Still his feet dangled over the edge. Just like her John's bed. His shirt slid up and Moira stared at the vivid bruising on his torso. Long scratch marks across the ribs. What looked like an old bullet injury near his waist. Scars disappearing into his opened pants. She gingerly touched him.
"How..."
"War," he brusquely answered. "It's brutal. Scars everywhere, well, nearly. Except on my back." He lifted his shirt to show her. Cuts along his collarbone. Five marks on his chest near his heart. Scabbed and reddish, still visible against his skin, through the chest hair. The silver dog tags glinted.
Moira stared, horrified. She ran her fingers up his chest. Along the scar tissue. The five marks so near his heart. "Wraith?"
"Yes. The queen. The one who took you. A month after you...she died. We found her but it was too late. The experiments had spread to other hives. Communicated to other Wraith queens and scientists. We destroyed her. Her hive. And what, what, um, offspring we found."
Moira's brown eyes widened. She met his gaze. "Offspring?" she whispered. Felt a chill. She withdrew her hand, looked at the room. The blank walls. "I killed her," she diverted, but the word offspring circled in her mind like a virus. "The queen. Shot her. To save John. To save all of us from that."
"To save me? You? She couldn't even handle a gun," Sheppard noted. Watching her. The similarity to his Moira uncanny. But he found it reassuring. Comforting. Amazing.
"I can't either, not really," she admitted. Sighed. Couldn't delay the question any longer. She looked back at him. "Offspring?"
He nodded. Looked away from her. Then back to her. Oddly uncomfortable. "I...I really don't want to tell you, Moira."
She swallowed. "Tell me, John." She touched his arm. "I need to know." She glanced at the walls. Wondered how John was doing. Worried. Appalled at that one word. "Offspring?"
Sheppard sat, turned her face to his. Gaze so solemn. "Their experiments. When they didn't harvest the genetic tissues. Let them develop farther along...and then...altered them. With Wraith DNA to expedite the process."
She stared. "You mean...children?" she whispered.
"Yes...but no. Not recognizably human. Not like that. Not after what they did. Um...creatures. Things that had to be put down. Genetic abnormalities. Combinations of ATA and Wraith DNA and God knows what else. They were horrible, Moira. Unlike anything I've ever seen. Grown in a lab, I guess...I don't know." He caressed her cheek. "There were others."
"Others?" she asked, not understanding. Trying to imagine the horrors he had witnessed. The biological outcome of those experiments.
"Other women. With the ATA gene. They're aren't many, did you know that? I sent all of ours back to Earth. Couldn't take the risk of unleashing yet another wave of those...monstrosities. The Wraith need the female genetic tissue to engender the ATA gene for them. Fertilized with a male ATA gene carrier. Beckett's done most of the research on this. We're still missing something. Some vital element. Some chink in their armor so we can defeat them."
Moira stared at her hands. "Yours is the strongest. Did you know that? Your gene."
"Yes. I know. And yours, Moira. Why do you think Beckett wants to get his hands on you? But he'll have to go through me first."
************************************************************************
"About time, major!" John snapped. He stepped back as the force field vanished. A man was carrying a tray. Looking nervous. "I'm starving! Come on!"
"Yes, sir." His companion raised a gun as the other man entered the cell.
"Hey, unarmed. Tell me, what's on the menu tonight?" John asked, tone almost bored. Gaze moving from one to the other.
"Stew again, sir."
"Stew? God, I'm tired of stew! Aren't you?" John complained. "Is that all we have?"
"War rations, sir."
"I bet there's no beer either?"
"No, sir," the man smiled in sympathy.
"Damn. No need to hang around here, then, is there?"
"Sir? You–"
John pivoted, kicking out. The platter flew up into the man's face. Showering him with stew. As he fell backwards John pulled the gun from his pants, clicked off the safety. Ducked and rolled to shoot the other man as he fired his P90. John hit the man's leg. "Not so fast!" John leapt to his feet, catching the man as he tried to lurch towards the comm unit. Punched the man in the face, dropping him to the floor. "Sorry." He dragged him back into the cell, hit the other man until he was unconscious as well. Took their guns and their earpieces. Set the force field. "Okay, so far, so good." He hefted the P90s. Tucked the 9mm back into his pants.
He darted across the holding cell. Keeping to the shadows. Knowing he did not have much time before he was discovered. "I'm coming, Moira, hold on," he muttered. Tapped his earpiece. "Moira, copy? Baby, do you read?" He swore at the silence. Ran quickly down the hallway, avoiding the transporters. Froze, debating how to get past the marines stationed on duty in the upper levels.
**************************************************************************
Sheppard lifted her face to his, kissed her. Another kiss as he moved her onto her back. Slid over her. "Moira, give yourself to me. As it should be. As it was before."
"I–"
He kissed her again, but drew back. "What?" He listened to the voice talking into his earpiece.
Frowned. Scowled.
Moira took the opportunity as she shifted under him to slide her hand into his pants pocket and grab her earpiece. She snatched it and slid it under her. Watched Sheppard revert into the bitter, stern colonel they had first encountered. Felt a chill.
Sheppard eyed her. "Very well. Find him. Now. I'm on my way. I won't tolerate this." He rolled off her, fixed his pants and moved to his feet. Grabbed his P90. As she scrambled into a seated position he said, "I'll be back. You're going no where and we have plenty of time to become intimately reacquainted." He left.
Moira scrambled off the bed, slid on the earpiece. Yanked on her panties and pants, embarrassed. Worried. Ran to the bathroom and yanked them down again to clean off any evidence. She restored her clothes once more. Tried the door. She swore, searched the room again. Found a big hand gun. Turned it in her hands, having no clue as to how to use it. It reminded her of Ronon's big gun but it was different. "Hurry, John, hurry," she muttered.
*************************************************************************
John had infiltrated one of the control rooms. He disabled the ZPM, using not his own codes but Rodney's which were the same in both realities. The lights flickered. Flashed. Went dark. Emergency strobes gleamed. An alarm blared. Quickly John exited the room, ran but slid to a stop seeing marines marching towards him. He whirled and ran the other way. Using his knowledge of the city he utilized the back ways. Taking stairs two at a time. Avoiding the soldiers swarming the hallways now. Shouting as the darkness aided his stealth.
He circled round, taking the most indirect route to where he knew his room was. Knowing that Moira was there. Knowing too his objective would be guessed. Anticipated. He slowed, approached the dark hallway. Found it deserted. Scowled, sensing a trap. But having no other option he made his way carefully into the shadows.
Reaching the door John waved his hand over it. The door did not budge. He tried again. He pried open the panel, saw a flashing screen demanding an access code. "A little paranoid, are we?" he muttered. Didn't have time to guess. He stepped back, fired his P90 into the panel.
Gunfire made Moira jump, nearly yelp. She stared as the door slid, stopped, slid open. Sparks flew and crackled. She lifted the gun, pointed it.
John ran into the room, stopped upon seeing the emptiness of it. Not seeing a single thing of his except the poster on the wall. Saw Moira holding a gun on him. "Moira! Moira, whoa, whoa, sweetheart, that looks like a modified Glock. Very sensitive. Easy."
"John?"
"Yes, you need to–"
"No!" She stared at him, uncertain. Not trusting the different clothes, the different attitude. "What do you call me?"
"What? We don't have time for–"
"What do you call me that I hate?" she asked. Holding the gun on him still.
"Baby. I call you baby and you hate it, so you call me sweetie which grates on my nerves. Moira, it's me! Honestly, the real me! Well, your me!"
She relaxed, lowered the gun. "John!"
He moved to the door. "Come on! We have to move quickly. Bring that. He knows I'm here. Is probably plotting to trap us. Stay behind me, Moira." He peered out into the darkness. Bullets flew. "Shit." He fired. "Moira! Come on! I'll cover you! Run!"
Moira slid past him as he fired down the hallway. She ran, flew around the corner. "John!" She fired the big gun. A blazing laser sped above him as he ducked, whirled, then ran to her. It blossomed into several more, striking the targets. Men fell back yelling.
"Shit. Let's go, run!" John snatched the stolen earpiece, slid it on and tapped it. All the while running after Moira as she rounded yet another corner and climbed some stairs. "Crap." He caught her arm, stopping her. "Wait! Here." He drew her into an alcove. "Moira, you'll have to get us out."
"What?"
"I can't. This is impossible! He thinks like I do, Moira. He'll know exactly what I know, what I'll do, how I'll move. I don't know if I can out think myself, so you need to do it. Lead us to the Jumper bay. A way you go that I don't know about. It's our only chance."
"I..." She considered, forcing down her qualms seeing his urgency. "Okay, okay, there is a way. A short cut when I'm in the lab. Evan..." she paused, sorrowful. "Showed me."
"Our Lorne, not theirs," he reminded. "Lead. I'll keep track of their movements." He listened to the chatter. "They're on the bay, and levels two and three. Just where I would have gone. They want you unharmed. Me not so much. Go."
Moira looked round, getting her bearings. "We'll have to go down two levels, then up one to the lab, then across the next...okay, John?"
"Yes, Moira, go." Quickly they moved along the darkened hallways. Alarms blaring. Emergency lights flashing until soundly the alarm fell silent. The lights flooded on. "Crap. They fixed the ZPM. Keep moving. We're clear so far." They descended stairs. Crossed long hallways. Circled areas and avoided the transporters. John noted the signs of a battle. Laser marks on the walls. Bullet holes. One section was cordoned off with yellow tape. A mess of hanging wires and debris. Part of the wall still open to the night air and the ocean.
"Here, John, through here. In our Atlantis this is the secondary bio lab." Moira caught his hand, led him across rooms filled with vials and specimens. Tanks of water in which things swished. Moira stared round, at the density of experiments. The zoological specimens contained along one wall. Gently pushed by John she moved onto the secondary lab. Gasped seeing a veritable hodgepodge of Wraith parts scattered about like so much garbage. They reached a flight of stairs and began to descend.
"This is a short cut?" he asked, shaking his head. "I've never seen this part of the city before."
She smiled briefly. "It is for me, John. We lost a bird once and discovered this route. Here. The bay's over there. Under us." She pointed.
John nodded, moved ahead of her. "Okay. Jumper bay. There's our ship. Wow...those ships are strange. Like a hybrid of ours and the Wraith...wait a sec! Is that even possible? Look at the–"
"John! Focus!" she scolded, taking his arm.
"Sorry, sweetheart. Okay, I know they're there because I would have put them in place. Just waiting for us to fall into their hands. The Jumper is our obvious target. Damn."
"They won't shoot me. I'll go first. You stay close. We run to the Jumper, close it tight."
He considered. "I don't like it, but okay. I'll lay strafing fire to cover us. Moira..." he hesitated.
She squeezed his arm. "John, we'll make it," she assured. "You can out think yourself, right?"
"Hmm...I can out think him, maybe..." he corrected. "Go."
Moira descended the stairs. Paused in the shadows as John came up behind her. "On three?"
"How about two. I don't like this city. One. Two." He ran ahead of her, shooting wildly. Deliberately hitting lights, ships, the wall. Creating a confusion of debris and sparks as the men hiding in wait scattered, startled. Buying them a few precious moments before they returned fire. Moira ran behind him, on his heels. Zig zagging as he did, trying to block him from any retaliatory gunfire.
"Don't shoot! Do not engage!" Sheppard shouted.
One stray bullet pinged, nearly hitting her but she ran on, nearly pushing John. They reached the Jumper. Men were rushing after them, on their heels. Moira pushed John into the opened hatch, almost slamming him off his feet. A force field glimmered blue. The static charge flung her back and she stumbled on the floor, nearly fell off the ramp. Ran back but the blue field blocked her.
"John!"
John caught himself before he fell. Propelled by his own momentum and Moira's push he was halfway to the cockpit, nearly slammed into a startled McKay. Before he could register his surprise he heard the hiss of electrical current. Whirled and ran back to find a blue force field blocking entrance to the ship. Blocking Moira who stood on the other side of it. He hit it with his fist. It shimmered, but remained in place. "Fuck! Moira!" He glanced over his shoulder. "McKay!"
"I''m sorry, John," McKay sighed. "It's out of my hands now."
Moira whirled as the sounds of boots chasing her abruptly stopped. A lone pair of footsteps was heading for her. She stared at the marines all standing in strict attention. Sheppard advanced. An angry but amused expression on his face. She turned back to the force field, to John trapped on the other side of it. In the ship. "John!"
"Moira! I can try to–"
"No! Go! Get out of here! I'll give you time to get back to me but go now!"
"Moira? No! No, I won't leave you!" John declared, seeing the advancing form of his darker self approaching her. The smug expression. Realized he had fallen into the trap perfectly. Berated himself.
"You have to go! Now!" She touched the force field, felt the sizzle of static on her palm. He touched it, could not feel her hand through it. "Go, please!"
"Moira...I am impressed. And disappointed," Sheppard noted as he neared her.
"Go," she said softly, gaze locked with John's. She turned, headed down the ramp. Stepped off it and glared at the colonel. "What did you expect? I don't belong here!"
"You do. You're even better than her. You seem to know ways around the city that I don't. I hadn't counted on that. But him...I knew exactly what he'd do. Where he'd go. So predictable."
He smiled. Pulled her back suddenly as the force field shifted, fell. The ramp lifted. Closed. The ship powered up and rose steadily. "What the...McKay! Not yet, damn it!" He watched the ship rise higher, higher, shimmer with a shield even as gunfire strafed along it. The ship zoomed up the hatchway, now open. Flew out of sight into the sky.
Moira saw her change. As Sheppard freed her she whirled. Ran past the marines, swinging the modified Glock with her.
"Sir?" Reynolds asked.
"He left you...he actually..." Sheppard whirled. Swore. But smiled. "Track her. Find her. She can't go far. But not a hair on her head is to be out of place or there will be hell to pay! Understood!"
"Yes, sir!" the men chorused. Marched from the bay.
"When you corner her, call me. And track that ship!"
