Title: The Pi Covenent
Title: The Pi Covenent
Author: AshtakRa
Fandom: Stargate Atlantis
Characters: Ronon/Lorne, Sheppard, McKay
Rating: PG (for now)
Summary: A comrade recovered, but how much of him remains? Weir mentioned the existence of advanced civilisations but did not elaborate on their intentions - The Pi Covenent could be their doom, or their salvation.
Chapter Four
In the green light from the glo sticks Sheppard handed out weapons and spare ammunition. He hesitated only a moment before handing one to Nox.
"You'll be in just as much danger but remember – one false move."
Nox studied the proffered weapon. "You think I will help defend this facility?"
"You did inform us of the danger," informed Sheppard sarcastically.
For that Nox did not answer but did take the P90, he gave it a once over then slipped it under his arm – in exactly the right position. Sheppard wisely said nothing but knew by the way that NOx held the weapon it was not a stolen memory. There is a way an experienced soldier handles a familiar weapon that is different from any recruit no matter how much training they've had.
"Cadman, take the flank with McKay; me and Nox will take point." He gave Nox a hard stare. "I'm relying on his abilities to forewarn us."
Nox returned the stare. "You say it like I have ESP Sheppard – it is a simple matter of detecting modulating wavelengths that differ from the surrounding static matter." He stepped up closer. "I can separate an individual out of millions, the bio-electric field you create is as unique as DNA – add to that the Wraith have a decidedly different signature from humans."
"So… it will be simple for you then?" asked Sheppard, not sure if Nox had actually just offered to help or was making a mild threat.
In answer Nox started walking to the door, seemingly unconcerned if they were following. Out in the corridor there was no light at all. It was a moonless night and even if it had been day the area had no windows.
Behind them McKay swore as he bumped into the wall. A dull tapping could also be heard.
"Give it up McKay," whispered Sheppard.
"I just find it hard to believe the Wraith can dampen every power source from that distance," McKay replied, his voice not so low as he tried to activate the dead scanner. His voice trailed off as Nox turned to him.
"Not every power source," muttered Nox.
In the darkness his left eye glowed a soft blue and thin blue lines crossed his cheek with the same hue.
"That's it," McKay snapped his fingers, so much louder in the dark. "Bio-energy, the Wraith use it in most of their technology and so does Nox here – perhaps I could configure some kind of -."
"No time," hissed Sheppard.
"Two of them, twenty meters on the right," whispered Nox and cocked his weapon. Sheppard followed suit.
"So um," Sheppard quickly asked. "You blast proof?"
A hand on his chest silenced him. It was Nox's and it forcefully kept him behind – whether this was his way of answering Sheppard wasn't sure.
"They're here," yelled Nox and started firing.
SGASGASGASGA
Relying on sound Ronon swept his blade in an arc and felt the tip slice through flesh – the Wraith did not even hiss in pain but it stepped back. Ronon waited, he had wounded it but for a Wraith that would mean very little. A whisper of air behind him was all the warning he got, but it was enough. Spinning and thrusting the sword forward he felt the resistance as it entered a body. Wasting no time he pulled it back and swung horizontally, the strain this time was heavier as the blade sliced through neck tendons and separated head from body.
"I think that was the last one," whispered Chuck to his right.
A stun blast streaked past Ronon's shoulder and in the brief illumination the Wraith who had fired shuddered as a spray of bullets riddled its body. As more stun blasts erupted from that corner there was the bright flash of the P90 arcing across the room. Several more Wraith must have gone down but multiple stun blasts hit their saviour and the white-blue charges lit him up.
Ronon gasped as he saw as if in strobe the face of Lorne contorted in, not pain exactly but determined desperation as a dozen more blasts hit him. He dropped to his knees; any other man would already be down, more likely dead from that many hits.
At that moment the lights faded back in and they were faced with four Wraith standing across the room, weapons raised and Lorne between them. Luckily Lorne dropped the rest of the way and Ronon brought his pistol up, hoping that the lights meant he had power again
Two went down to his blasts, a third was taken by Chuck's 9mm but the fourth leapt across and engaged him hand-to-hand. Although he would never admit it Ronon was not exactly as battle fit as once he was; Atlantis had made him a little soft. Of course his idea of soft was not being able to kill twenty Wraith and easily defeat a twenty-first.
A blow from his opponent dropped him and the Wraith's hand flayed out in preparation for feeding. He knew the pain that would accompany it and thought fleetingly that at least in his last moments Lorne was close by, even if he was unconscious or dead.
As the Wraith's hand swung down Ronon could see it as if in slow motion; the gaping slit of the feeding palm, the Wraith's victory sneer as its nostrils flared.
This was it.
A black and red blur crossed his eyes and another arm was holding the Wraith's in place, then ever so slowly backwards. With a massive heave Lorne threw the Wraith across the room where Sheppard had arrived in the doorway and took the Wraith out in a burst of gunfire.
With their faces so close together Ronon barely breathed as he looked into the eyes of his friend and lover. Until now he'd only seen him on the video feeds and it didn't quite convey how very much he was Lorne and yet not. One eye faded from a bright unnatural blue to normal human and the eyebrows knit together as Lorne seemed to both recognise him but not be happy about it. The worst part was his smell, the masculine sweat that Ronon was so familiar with; it permeated his nostrils and sent the blood rushing to his groin.
Reaching out to touch Lorne the man saw his move and jumped back.
"Don't touch me!" the voice was low, threatening and metallic – not Lorne but this Nox they had told him he claimed to be.
Ronon went to say something but a siren interrupted him and the lights surged, in less than a second the doors slammed shut, cutting Sheppard off and just missing slicing him in half.
Across the room Chuck stood from checking the Wraith bodies. "That's the quarantine program – must have come on-line with the power."
Ronon heard him but had not taken his eyes off Lorne, or Nox if he insisted. Having resisted coming into contact with him all this time Ronon now regretted not doing it sooner and realised he was not as reconciled as he had believed.
He cared for this man, maybe even loved him.
Nox stood, breathing heavily and hunched slightly, his hand out to prevent Ronon coming closer. There was evidence of pain on his face, physical pain and Ronon thought of all the Wraith blasts Nox had taken. Any human would be dead, even if he had some way of absorbing the blasts the sheer amount of energy had to have some detrimental effect on him. That effect was becoming apparent as Nox dropped to his knees and shuddered, an arc of electricity snaked across his chest and shot up to the ceiling, his face tattoos flared in tandem with the release.
"Stand back," shouted Ronon to Chuck uselessly; the man was already against the far wall. Nox spread his arms out and gave a high scream in that human/metallic voice, the sound resonating through Ronon's bones and his heart. Several arcs shot out and earthed against wall and ceiling; it only lasted a few seconds before Nox crumpled to the floor, wisps of smoke curling up from his clothes.
SGASGASGASGASGASGA
Systems re-initialised
Diagnostic program running…
Multiple damage points detected, biological failure imminent due to Integration circuit overload
Isolate and reroute primary Integration…
Warning, isolating Integration will render host vulnerable
Risk is acceptable; proximity of organic life-form 'Ronon' improves survival chances
Error; what is a 'Ronon'?
Ronon is life, protection, comfort – comply with isolation
… compartmentalising of Integration commencing in five-four-three-two…
As he held Lorne and watched his body seemingly burning from the inside Ronon had never felt so useless. With his head in his lap he felt for a pulse but could not find one, nor breathing or hint of life. The only sign of anything was the pulsing tattoo across his face that went from bronze to blue like a heart beat. His eyes were open and unfocused and the one near the tattoo was glowing an electric blue. He had checked and wherever the tattoos were the skin was starting to raise and burn like a scold – whatever power discharge he had attempted must not have been enough.
"C'mon Evan," he muttered. "You never gave up on anything – don't start now."
The blue eye suddenly faded to his natural colour and the tattoo winked out, leaving only a red outline of where it had been. Lorne's body, that had been quite rigid went limp, then shuddered as he coughed and drew in a deep breath, his eyes looking around frantically before focusing on Ronon above him.
For the briefest of moments his mouth crinkled up in a smile before his eyes rolled up and he fell back unconscious. Ronon checked, this time he was breathing and had a heartbeat, but it was weak and rapid.
Turning to Chuck who was working frantically on the door panel Ronon almost yelled, "We need to get out now!"
He looked back down at Lorne, ironically he seemed more human than ever before being unconscious and injured.
"Hang in there, I'll get you to safety – I promise." Ronon closed his eyes, praying to ancestors he hoped were watching. It couldn't end here, not now and not like this.
Tbc…