See Chapter 1 for disclaimer. Thanks to Titan5, corkieshome, twinchaosblade, Delka, Kodiak's Sweet Breath, neptune60, and Jack-rocks for your reviews of Chapter 8. Your encouragement is most appreciated. :)


Chapter 9 / 11

John approached the chair room slowly, with Teyla and Ronon flanking him. It had taken a lot of cajoling, and a truly artistic persuasive speech about his newfound terror of wheelchairs to get out of the infirmary on his own two feet, but Sheppard had finally won the argument. Even so, he suspected it was the impending doom of Wraith presence that really tipped the odds in his favor. Beckett had loaded him up with ibuprofen and let him go after John promised to come back later for an exam to determine whether or not he would be spending another night in the infirmary. "McKay, how goes the progress with the door?"

Rodney glanced up from his laptop at the sound of John's voice and looked at his pale friend with disapproval, then pointed at the entrance to the chair room. "Door. Still closed." He pointed to a dot on his laptop screen. "Madman. Still inside." He pointed to a nearby bench. "Before you fall down, sit down. And shut up. I'm working on it."

John exchanged an amused look with Teyla, then carefully lowered himself onto the bench. The doc hadn't been kidding when he said the bruising would still make itself known. If it weren't for current circumstances, he might have even requested more happy juice, but for the moment he needed his mind to be sharp. Sheppard rested his P-90 on his lap and peered at the door to the chair room and the control panel beside it. "It doesn't look like the panel's been shorted out. Was the door jammed somehow from the inside?"

"Not likely. If that were the case we'd get some sort of grinding sound from the locking mechanism when activating it. So far, nothing."

"Maybe it won't let you in because your gene's not functioning?"

"No, that is not the problem. The problem is that a very sophisticated code has locked the door and I'm attempting to decrypt it," McKay said distractedly.

"Well why didn't you just say so in the first place?"

"Huh? Oh…well…I thought you were being facetious because it's obvious the door's not open, and the jamming thing also seemed pretty self-explanatory…I don't know! Just please leave me alone for five minutes so I can figure this out."

"Fine, because that 'possible danger to the city' I had a gut feeling about earlier? It's going to be here in about an hour."

"Thank you ever so much for making me even more aware of that than I already am!" McKay snapped, but didn't turn back around. He was muttering something about Wraith life-sucking algorithms, but before John had time to contemplate what that could possibly mean, Rodney stood up abruptly. "Aha! I think I've got it! Try it now."

John got to his feet and readied his P-90, moving into position to cover Teyla and Ronon who approached the door ahead of him. Ronon reached out and palmed the panel, and after a few moments' hesitation, the doors slid aside. He and Teyla entered, weapons raised, and slowly approached the chair from the left. Sheppard and McKay followed, fanning out to flank the opposite side of the room.

A large man with dark hair and a scraggly goatee occupied the reclined control chair. The man wore the fatigues of Atlantis military, but Sheppard knew this was not one of his subordinates. Getting a good look at Garden Weasel's face for once, John had the vague feeling that they'd met somewhere before their encounter on the pier, but he couldn't put a time or place to the meeting. Nor did he know what the man was up to. The chair's usually bright blue glow was dim at best, and flickered intermittently.

"What's he doing?" whispered McKay.

"How should I know? Our encounters have mostly involved him trying to kill me!" John hissed back.

"He looks nervous."

"Well maybe he got the bulletin about the Wraith arriving in an hour. Wait, make that 53 minutes. Why are we whispering?" John whispered, glancing at Rodney.

"I don't…" Rodney stopped, then spoke at a normal volume, shrugging. "He looked like he was concentrating…" he paused again at Sheppard's dark look. "…which in hindsight is something we wouldn't want. Right."

John shook his head and looked across the room to where Ronon had his gun trained on Garden Weasel. Teyla also had her weapon raised, but seemed uneasy. "Teyla, what's wrong?"

"Colonel…I believe I know this man."

"You know him?" John's jaw dropped, but he quickly regained his composure. "From where?"

"Athos…he settled on the mainland after the Wraith attack. He was one of the last to leave Atlantis. His name is Kehrig."

"Well that would explain why he looks a little familiar. Any idea why he wants to kill us?"

"Us?! I thought it was just you!"

Sheppard ignored McKay's outburst and waited for Teyla to answer.

"Help me…please…"

Three sets of eyes immediately turned their focus from Teyla to Kehrig, who was staring at them with wide eyes. Teyla took a couple of steps toward the chair, but not close enough to be within easy reach of the man. "Kehrig, what is it that you are doing?" she asked calmly.

"Teyla…you must stop them…" Kehrig grunted as if in pain and his eyes closed tightly. The light emanating from the chair flickered some more, growing brighter for a few seconds, then dimming again.

"Who must I stop? The Wraith?"

"Yes…they are coming…"

"We know this. It is why we are here, to use the chair's defenses."

"You will all die!" Kehrig roared, his body shaking.

"Does anyone else get the idea that he's a little confused?" Sheppard asked.

"Sounds like he's right on the money to me," McKay muttered.

Teyla only shook her head and tried again. "Kehrig, if you will vacate the chair I am certain that Colonel Sheppard will be happy to take care of the Wraith for us."

Several moments passed before Kehrig spoke brokenly, his chest heaving, "Can't…forcing me…sabotage…drones," he paused and his body went suddenly rigid, as if he were waging an internal battle. "I am in control. You will bow to me!!" he shouted.

"I've had enough of this. Ronon, stun him," John ordered. He noticed Ronon and Teyla exchange glances. She nodded to him and almost as quickly it was done. Kehrig's body lay still on the chair, and the chair itself was no longer glowing, not even faintly as it had been.

They all approached cautiously, and Teyla reached out to feel for Kehrig's pulse. "He is alive, but I believe Dr. Beckett would characterize his pulse as thready."

"Take him to the brig and send Beckett down to check him over. Make sure the doc doesn't go in alone though."

"Of course. If you and Dr. McKay will be all right here, I would like to accompany Ronon. It is possible I can get more information from Kehrig if he wakes."

"Yes, go. Find out what the hell's going on. We'll be fine."

"Thank you." Teyla waited as Ronon picked up Kehrig in a fireman's carry, then followed him toward the brig.

John turned back to Rodney, who was already busy scanning. "Any idea what that guy did to the chair and the drones?"

"Yes, because I'm just that good that I can figure it out in one second flat. Why don't you and your famous gene have a go at it and see if you can do better?"

"Fine. We will." John carefully climbed into the chair and lay back, reaching out with his mind. He closed his eyes and concentrated for several minutes. Finally he felt something happening, but he'd wager it had nothing to do with the chair. As quickly as possible, he pushed himself up.

"Sheppard, what's going on? Nothing happened…why are you getting up? Where are you going?" Rodney ended his stream of questions when he noticed he was being thoroughly ignored and watched with curiosity as John crossed the room to stand beside the Atlantis version of a ficus tree, bent over, and promptly threw up. Rodney scrunched up his nose. "Eww…that is so gross, Sheppard. You know, if you have to be sick, you could at least not kill innocent plants in the process."

Sheppard remained hunched over for several seconds before he spat once more into the plant pot, then straightened up, holding his ribs. "Sorry, McKay, next time I'll aim in your direction." He narrowed his eyes and actually pointed a finger at the scientist. "And don't let those plants fool you. They're not as innocent as they'd like you to believe." John returned to the chair. "Now, where were we?" he said, attempting to connect with the chair once again.

McKay scanned and watched and waited and tapped his foot and aligned some misaligned crystals and drummed his fingers on a console for the next eleven minutes, expecting something…anything…to happen. Then he took a good look at Sheppard and cursed. John's face was flushed and sweat beaded on his forehead. His eyes remained closed and his breathing was shallow. "Colonel! Wake up!" Rodney reached out and shook his shoulder. One hazel-green eye opened and regarded him with annoyance.

"What do you want, McKay? I'm trying to concentrate."

"Um, nothing, it's just that…you look like crap."

"Yeah, well, it comes with the territory."

"What territory?"

"Haven't you and Beckett discussed how that plant does what it does to the ATA gene?"

"No, I've been otherwise occupied. Why?"

"Long story short, my immune system is rejecting the chemical produced by the plant's pollen. My gene should be fully functional again soon, and I think trying to use Ancient technology is getting rid of the chemical even faster than usual...but it's obviously not doing wonders for my complexion."

"Oh." Rodney was about to ask how John was able to tell how fast the chemical was leaving his system when Sheppard started speaking again.

"How long do we have before the hive ship arrives?"

McKay glanced at his tablet apprehensively. "Approximately 25 minutes…is that long enough?"

"We're about to find out." John tuned out his surroundings and tried to focus. He could feel the familiar tugging at the edges of his mind that indicated proximity to Ancient technology. He requested the status of the chair, the shield, and the drones, but the reply was sluggish and difficult to understand. It was as if he were receiving a single piece of information at a time, at such a slow pace that he had forgotten how one piece fit into the picture before he could comprehend the next. He supposed Rodney would equate it to dial-up versus broadband.

As the pieces continued to filter in, however, he had the distinct feeling that his connection was approaching broadband levels because certain concepts were slowly beginning to make sense. John waited for what seemed like a week, but suddenly he knew that there was scrambled programming in the drone guidance systems. He also discovered that the shield was disabled and the chair wasn't functioning at full power due to its main power conduits being routed elsewhere.

Reaching out toward the mental picture he had of the power conduits, Sheppard imagined them resuming their normal configuration, using back-up systems to supply enough power in order to do so. He had fixed some similar issues that way in the past. This time, however, his thoughts were having no effect. John tried again, with the same lack of results. Even though he now had a fairly clear idea of what was wrong with the chair and how the drones had been re-programmed, he couldn't seem to do anything to fix it.

Frustration growing, John sighed and decided to see if he could re-train his gene with a simpler task. He tried dimming the lights, and felt the systems respond to him with the equivalent of 'command not recognized'.

"What's wrong?" McKay's voice piped in, noticing the colonel's aggravated expression.

"My gene's still not entirely compatible with the Ancient technology. I can receive status information, I'm just not able to control or fix anything."

"Hmm…well, keep trying. Looking at these scans, I'm quite certain that there's no way I can fix what's been done, at least not without a month and a full-time Ancient language translator."

"It would be helpful if you were quite certain of something that was actually helpful, McKay," Sheppard groused, but turned his attention back to his task and ignored another trademarked Rodney McKay Evil Squint of Doom.


McKay was pacing laps around the room, muttering to himself, and alternately making sure Sheppard hadn't dropped dead. He was getting worried. The colonel's breathing was somewhat ragged, his face and neck glistened with perspiration, and he hadn't spoken or moved at all in the past fifteen minutes. His alternating expressions of determined concentration and irritation were the only indication that he wasn't unconscious. The inevitable arrival of life-sucking aliens was doing nothing to calm Rodney's nerves either, so when his radio chirped he nearly jumped out of his skin.

"Yes, yes, what do you want?! You could have given me a heart attack you know!"

"Rodney, is everything all right?" Dr. Weir's voice came over the radio.

"Oh, Elizabeth. Hi. Well, it depends on your definition of 'all right'. I'm not sure how much progress the colonel has made because he's not saying anything, and by my calculations the Wraith are arriving…" he glanced at his watch, "thirty seconds ago. Dammit! Is everything all right up there?"

"For the moment, but that could quickly change since we can't seem to raise the shield. Do you have any idea why it's not responding?"

"No…unless it has something to do with whatever Kehrig did to the chair…" McKay said thoughtfully.

"Who is Kehrig?"

"The psycho Athosian that attacked Sheppard."

"Athosian?!"

"Yes, yes. It's a long and entertaining story that I would be happy to relate to you later. Was there anything else you needed? I'm a little busy here."

Elizabeth's voice came back over the radio, heavy with annoyance, "Other than figuring out how to raise the shield, knowing that the chair is functioning so we have the capability to fire drones would be nice…it is functioning, right?"

"Uh…hold on, I'll see if I can get you a status update on that." McKay went over to the chair. "Sheppard, are you getting anywhere?" He got unintelligible mumbling in response and debated shaking him again. He settled for poking John's shoulder repeatedly, and though varying expressions continued to cross the colonel's features, he didn't acknowledge McKay.

"Rodney? What's the status of the drones? Did you talk to John?"

"Um…well…no, not quite. Elizabeth, I think we may have a problem."

"Rodney…"

Elizabeth's warning tone sent McKay into overdrive and he rattled off the situation worriedly, "Sheppard's not responding to me. I don't think he's unconscious, but I'm not sure and he's mumbling about something and breathing like he's been running a marathon, sweating like it too. You'd better get Beckett down here when he's done with Kehrig, and…" he trailed off as a loud boom sounded and the room shook. "What the hell was that?!"

"A Wraith warning shot. Stay where you are and see if you can rouse the colonel. I'll send Beckett. Weir out."

Rodney cast his eyes skyward and threw his hands in the air. "Sheppard, you so owe me! For what I haven't decided yet, but you definitely owe me," he complained, again poking his friend's shoulder and getting no response.


TBC…