Hope you all like this one. I did not do it just to whump the boys, but well, a bit of it happens in this chapter, actually, basically most of this chapter. And you know, I am just going to say thanks to my beta Comanche-Antigo for the rest of this fic unless otherwise noted because C-A has graciously agreed to keep helping me! Hope not too many oOoOoOoOo , but lots of scene changes throughout.
Chapter 11 Pirates and Kings
The jolt of the landing actually roused Sheppard. He pulled himself up with a hiss as he grabbed his left forearm. Dammit, broke it. His training kicked in automatically as he detached himself from his parachute and hid it. He grabbed what little gear there was for survival. Not much of it. He would have to talk to Lear about this. And what the hell was in his right eye. He wiped his right forearm across it and saw blood on his sleeve. He ignored it as well and searched a few more moments before his eyes fell to a ridge. Oh crap! He looked over carefully as the footing was not steady. He realized that O'Neill was hanging down the side of a cliff with his parachute caught on just at the ledge.
Sheppard ignored his pain and lay on his stomach as he tried to get a hold of the parachute. He then slowly started pulling as hard as he could. He noticed the general stirring. After a few minutes the older man looked up at him quizzically. "Sheppard, what the hell are you doing?" Sheppard kept his voice cheerful despite his arm and head killing him. "Just trying to pull you up, sir. Be done in a sec." O'Neill mumbled something incoherent. He was near the top when a fraying strap on his harness finally gave way. O'Neill managed to hang on but looked up at Sheppard wide-eyed. Damn, thought Sheppard has he continued to pull, "Hold on, sir, almost there." Sheppard saw the harness continuing to fray under the strain. O'Neill saw it as well, locked eyes with Sheppard and reached his arm up just as Sheppard reached down and they clasped arms. Sheppard nearly cried out in pain, but bit his lip. He continued to pull but was making little progress. After a minute of going nowhere, O'Neill looked up and realized Sheppard was in agony, and also felt the strangeness in the pilot's arm. He wasn't moving any more despite Sheppard straining, and had actually just inched down a bit. They were both going to fall.
"Let me go, Sheppard," he said quietly looking up to the pilot. Sheppard was not looking at him, and despite the cold, O'Neill noticed sweat on Sheppard's brow. The pilot's head was bleeding as well in surreal drips down the cliff. What the hell was in his helmet? "Sheppard," he said more forcefully. Sharp hazel green eyes pierced through him. "Let me go." O'Neill watched Sheppard close his eyes. Then he looked down at O'Neill and said matter-of-factly. "No sir." Sheppard grimaced as he gathered his legs underneath him and at the same time let go of the hold on to the stump he had been holding with his good arm to anchor himself from the treacherous ledge. With a grunt he pulled back and stood up and leaned back holding O'Neill with both arms now. Sheppard fell back with O'Neill landing beside him. He lay there panting for a while. "You okay, sir?" O'Neill turned and looked at him angrily. "You could have got yourself killed, Sheppard!" he hissed. His head pounded and he felt nauseous. Sheppard shrugged. "You would have done the same, sir." O'Neill was about to answer back when he realized Sheppard was right. "Smart ass," he finally said rolling on to his back. How many times had he called Sheppard that today? "Yes sir." Sheppard answered tiredly.
A minute later he looked at the general. "Sir, we need to get moving." There was no answer and he realized the general was unconscious. Damn! He hid any remnants of a parachute and gathered whatever supplies the general had managed to keep on him and put it in his own pack.
He tried to rouse O'Neill but there was no response other than a moan. No broken bones, no bleeding, medium sized bruise on the right cheek. Sheppard scanned the area. He needed to get as far a way from here as possible. No telling who shot them down and where they were now. The General was a big man, but he could not drag him over this terrain. Dammit general, wake up!
Sheppard somehow managed to get O'Neill in a fireman carry ignoring the pain in his arm. Then he just headed toward the direction of the city away from where they had encountered fire and hoped no one was close by.
oOoOoOoOoOo
Sarik paced angrily as he talked to Lear. "How could this be?"
"I do not know, Guardian, but I have mobilized a search party. I only stopped myself to inform you of what occurred."
"I have informed Dr. Weir and Col Caldwell. He will also assist with the search."
"Very well, go. Please find them." Sarik said.
oOoOoOoOoOo
Sheppard found a cave. He could not go any further. He gently laid O'Neill down. Where the hell is a transmitter? He looked in the gear bag. There was a radio but it had been damaged. He did not see one in the gear he had gotten from O'Neill. Dammit, Dammit!! He leaned up against a rock after covering the general with a survival blanket. He held the 9 mm in his hand at the ready. He did not realize he had dozed off.
oOoOoOoOoOo
"You must take me with you, Colonel Caldwell."
Caldwell looked down at the old man. "Why, Sophistides? I mean no offense but what can you do?" Caldwell said packing a bag. He wished he had brought the Daedalus and not gone through the Stargate to this world.
"I can speak to him, colonel, with my mind. I can sense him. I would not ask you if I did not feel that I could help."
Caldwell thought a moment. What had Sheppard called this old man.? Yoda. He smiled at the thought.
"Very well. You can join Dr. Beckett and me in the transport. We must go right now."
oOoOoOoOoOo
O'Neill looked around. Why the hell were they on the ground and why did his back hurt? He still had his helmet on, but...oh yeah, something hit us. He could see the sun starting to fall. They were in a cave, or at least he was, but where was Sheppard? He squinted in the shadows and saw a figure.
He took off the blanket then his helmet. Did Sheppard drag him over here to this cave? He crawled over to the unconscious pilot. Jeez, his back hurt.
"Sheppard?" He whispered hoarsely as he shook the pilot's boot. "Sheppard." O'Neill shivered. It was cold. They would have to have crashed in late fall. He sidled up to the pilot. He still had his helmet on. Why all the blood on his face? Good lord. O'Neill looked at Sheppard helmet and saw a piece of jagged metal sticking out of it.
"Hey kid," O'Neill said again. He unhooked Sheppard's helmet. He hesitated, unsure as to whether he should remove it but decided he needed to know how bad it was because the bleeding did not seem to be stopping. Sheppard groaned as he slowly pulled it off. The metal had penetrated enough to gouge his forehead just at the hairline.
"Jesus, kid. You got lucky."
He took a bandage from the emergency kit and tried to apply enough pressure to make the bleeding stop, although it continued to ooze. He taped the bandage tightly then checked for further wounds. Broken left forearm. How did he pull me up over that ledge? It looked bruised, but there was no broken skin. He found something for a makeshift splint. When he was done, he took two pills that he hoped were like Tylenol. He thought better of it knowing he had a concussion, but he needed to think straight and the pain was annoying. O'Neill rested a few minutes. He knew that they had to move again. Darkness would fall soon and he was not sure if their crash was an accident or not. Sheppard stirred.
"Kid?" Sheppard did not move. "Colonel!" he said in his best commanding tone. He saw the younger man's eyes snap open.
"Yes, sir!"
O'Neill grinned and laid a hand on the pilot's shoulder. "Sorry son. Knew that would get you. We need to move."
Sheppard looked up at him confused for a moment then remembered where they were. This was no dream. "Yes sir. No radio and no transmitter as far as I know." He eyed the general carefully.
"You okay, sir?"
O'Neill looked at him amazed. Am I okay? "Yeah. Back hurts a little but these little white pills will hopefully help. Hope they were Tylenol. You, however, have a broken arm and a nasty gash on your forehead that stubbornly keeps bleeding."
He handed Sheppard the helmet with the metal protruding. Sheppard looked at it and smiled. "Something funny, Sheppard?"
"Yes sir. Carson is going to have a fit when he sees this. I mean come on there's freaking metal sticking out of my helmet!"
"Well, you are a lucky son of a bitch that is for sure. I knew that no good would come of flying. Something always seems to go wrong when I am in a small little plane..."
"Fighter, sir...not ...plane."
"Right," O' Neill said getting up. "I am going to go cover some tracks. Wait here for me. Then we need to head out."
Sheppard did not argue, which surprised O'Neill. He made his way out. Whatever those white pills were, they sure helped. 10 minutes later he returned and found Sheppard sleeping again. He gently shook his shoulder. "Ready, kid?"
"Yes sir. You back already?"
"There weren't too many tracks and not too much blood. I laid some false tracks. Did you carry me?"
"Yes sir. I did not think you would appreciate getting dragged over this terrain."
"I do appreciate that," O'Neill said helping Sheppard up. But how the hell did you manage that? "We need to get going. See if you cannot bleed all over the place. I'd give you Tylenol but don't think that would help the arm and honestly I don't know what the pills are."
"No sir, it hurts but okay. Tylenol would have zero impact anyway. I'll take point."
O'Neill said nothing, but he was wondering how the hell they were going to be found by the good guys. If this had just been a crash, they would have stayed put, but something had hit them. Sheppard had mentioned it in his brief conversation with Lear. Maybe one of those rebel tribes or whatever Sarik called them.
oOoOoOoOoOo
Lear circled the last coordinates he had. "Touching down here," he radioed to the search party sitting in the back of the transport. Ronon was in the front seat eager to get to the ground to track Sheppard. He was first out the door. A small contingent of a special forces group from Sheppard's planet followed him. He turned to Lear. "We will call you when we find them or need help. If any rebels are tracking them it is unlikely that they will double back here, but be cautious. Leave if you must and we will stay in radio contact."
Lear nodded helplessly. He was a pilot. Not a rescuer like these men. He returned to the transport to radio Sarik and Caldwell.
oOoOoOoOoOo
O'Neill and Sheppard stopped at another cave. "Sun is falling fast. I think we should hole up." Sheppard said with a grimace. His head hurt from the near jog that they took. He noticed that the general had stopped a couple of times to dry heave. How the hell was he going to get them to find himThink, John. Think. He sat down and drank from his canteen. Well at least they had water and the ever present power bar.
"I will take first watch, Sheppard. You get some rest and take second."
"Yes sir." Sheppard laid his head back against the rock. He was thinking about their problem when he realized he could try something. Sophistides! Could he really talk to the guy from this distance? Could he talk to anyone? Best chance was him since the guy actually did this stuff for a living. He closed his eyes and concentrated. They actually had not covered this in any of their lessons, but hell it was worth a shot. Focus. He let his mind relax and reached out.
oOoOoOoOoOo
Sophistides was sitting in his chair in guest quarters. Night had fallen. All craft were recalled. Only the one called Ronon and a small tracking team remained in the field. Sophistides had reached out with his mind but felt nothing. Come on boy. Think! He had not trained Sheppard how to communicate but he hoped that he would try to reach him. The old man moved and sat on a soft pillow near the corner of the room. He relaxed his mind searching for the unusual thread of a mind, so different than the others. Then he heard it.
Sophistides. Sophistides?
I am here!
Thank God.
Are you hurt?
Not too bad.
Where are you?
Don't know...really...tired.
Focus, John. Show me where you are. He thought he had lost a connection as his mind was quiet. He waited until the gentle thread touched him again. He saw the crash site, saw where they went as John carried the general. Saw where they had run to after leaving the first hiding spot. Sophistides burned the images in his mind.
We will be there, John. Rest now.
Talk to you later...
Sheppard had broken the link. Sophistides rose quickly to find Sarik, Caldwell and Lear. He would have to wake them since it was long into the night.
oOoOoOoOoOo
"General!!"
Whuh...O'Neill felt hands grabbing him. He turned to see Sheppard being pushed to the ground and having his hands pulled behind him. The pilot cried out as they roughly grabbed his broken arm.
"Hey, watch out, his arm is broken." Dammit, he had fallen asleep on his watch! O'Neill felt sick as he watched them haul Sheppard to his feet and out the cave as his own hands were being tied. He had fallen asleep! He hissed as back spasms shook through him. No one said anything to them as they walked very quickly along a trail. It was dark and cold and they were walking too damn fast for his back. He saw Sheppard head butt a captor sending him backward and to the ground, but this rewarded with a brutal shove in the back that sent him to the ground. How the hell could I have fallen asleep?! O'Neill's head hurt. Concussion or no, I should not have fallen asleep! After about 30 minutes the pace slowed but they walked another hour to an hour and a half before finally stopping. He was exhausted and his back hurt from the effort. He looked at Sheppard beside him. The wound had started bleeding again, but the man actually just looked pissed. He looked like he was ready to kill someone. Maybe it was the blood on his face making him look homicidal.
They looked like they were at some sort of camp. Not a very nice camp but one nonetheless. A short, bearded man walked up to them. "Which one of you is in charge?"
"I am," both O'Neill and Sheppard said together then looked at each other.
"General O'Neill," O'Neill said. "This is Lt Col Sheppard."
The man looked at them quizzically then settled on O'Neill. "General I assume outranks Lt Col?"
"Yes, it does." O'Neill said glaring at Sheppard. Don't pull the king thing right now. Sheppard looked in his eyes and nodded slightly.
"Take that one!" the man said pointing to Sheppard. Two men grabbed the pilot and led him to the courtyard.
"I said I am in charge!" O'Neill said as they forced Sheppard to his knees and tied him with his hands still bound behind him to a post.
"Yes, of course you are. You are the leader and therefore responsible for the welfare of your subordinates. You tell us what we want and he lives. Very simple. It is beginning to rain. We should get you under cover there."
"What about him?" O'Neill growled. "He is hurt and needs medical attention."
"As soon as you tell us what we need to know. As for him, you will be able to see him from your own cell.
Sheppard shivered as the rain started to fall. I can't freaking believe this!! He tried to find a comfortable position but his arm hurt a great deal. I am going to kill these sons of bitches! He was angry for letting the general take first watch. He must have had a concussion and passed out. He was really angry for having to waste time with crap like this. There was a threat that he had to address soon, and he sensed that these were petty rebels or just a band of common thieves. Not the actual threat that was out there somewhere ready to wipe out his world. He looked over to a tent about 30 yards away. The stinky short man had taken O'Neill to a holding cell. He could see the man talking to O'Neill who was actually watching Sheppard. Sheppard grinned to let the general know he was alright, but he was actually freezing and his who left arm was now burning with pain. He closed his eyes. Need to let Sophistides know.
oOoOoOoOoOo
The old man was looking at a map and pointing. "Here. He is here."
Caldwell looked at him, incredulous. "How do you know?"
"I have been training John on the use of his mind. Initially it was to survive the transference and now just blocking unwanted beings in his mind, like the Wraith. He needs this training to manage all the knowledge that has been given to him and eventually access it. We have occasionally been able to communicate through our minds although we had not reached this level of training. He reached out to me after their crash..." Sophistides' voice trailed off and his eyes looked distant for a moment.
"What is it?" Caldwell said moving next to the man who ignored him.
Sophistides looked up at him finally. "They have been captured. West." He looked down at the map then marked it. "This is the path. John cannot be sure as it was very dark. But they are in a camp somewhere around here. I cannot get more specific."
Caldwell looked at him a moment. "General Sorhan, would you please communicate these coordinates to Lear so he may relay them to Ronon and his team?"
"Absolutely."
Caldwell left to talk to Teyla and Beckett. There was no use doing anything more from their end until morning.
oOoOoOoOoOo
The rain was coming down hard now. O'Neill watched Sheppard slumped against the pole. He could see heat rising off of him and rain pouring down his nose and chin.
"General O'Neill." The scumbag leader told him. "We just want to know where you are from."
"Not from here."
"Well yes, that is obvious. You fly in an Iliaran ship. Are you from there?"
"We came from there."
"But where is your home world?"
"Not from here."
The man looked at him with closed eyes. Patience.
"Yes, that is obvious as well. You are taller and darker than most from Ilium, as is that one." He said, nodding toward Sheppard. "Your accent is different as well."
"Yeah, well I have always been told that. Why do you care where we are from anyway? We were just taking a ride, not bothering anyone. Going fishing."
"Yes, well there are people who would pay for information from those just taking a ride."
"Like who?"
"I ask the questions, general."
Should have come through the damn Stargate and none of this would have happened. Should have stayed awake Jack and that kid would not be freezing out there.
"So ask away. Why don't you bring him in here and I might be more willing to talk."
Scumbag looked out the cell window. "I think he will be comfortable out there tonight. I need some rest so will be back in a few hours. I suggest you get some rest as well."
Bastard! How the hell can I get rest when I have a man freezing out there?
"They are looking for us!" he said angrily.
The man stood and turned to him. "We will be gone by then I am sure. This rain covers tracks well."
Sheppard could not sleep, could not move and could not stop shivering. He wasn't in so much pain, but he was so damn cold! He moved to get more comfortable. Okay, maybe the pain was there. He closed his eyes and tried to think of something else anything else but here. He also blocked off thoughts of a previous life. A downed pilot being held in Afghanistan. No he would not go there. He dozed off eventually, shivering in the cold.
O'Neill paced in his cell. He tried the bars but they did not budge. What the hell did these people want? Who was this benefactor with purse strings to pay for information? He sat down and looked out at Sheppard. He could see the man shivering but appeared to either be asleep or had passed out. O'Neill frowned in understanding. They wanted information about him. This person wanted to know about the king, if there was a king. He stood up. Have to keep that info out of their hands. How the hell could he protect Sheppard though? Just had to buy time until they got rescued.
"Specialist Dex. We must camp here. This is the last known spot. To move in this darkness and rain is too treacherous. It is only two hours until sunlight. We should rest then pick up the trail in the morning."
Ronon did not want to stay, but he also knew that he did not know this area very well. It was hard to see the trail as it was with the rain. He only hoped it was not all washed away by morning. "Very well," he growled. He would rest but he would not sleep. "I will take watch."
oOoOoOoOo
Sheppard groaned as they pulled him up from his post. He felt half frozen, his legs did not want to work properly, and he could not stop his teeth from chattering. Day time already, but still raining. It was still cool as it was just dawn. At least his arm was frozen and did not hurt much, but then again, maybe that was not a good sign. He wanted to just sleep, and knew that was not a good sign.
The two guards escorted him to a nearby table. His heart flipped as he realized there were not going to be giving him breakfast. He saw a water hose of sorts nearby and buckets. He worked to slow his heart rate and reduce the feeling of panic. He remembered seeing this done in Afghanistan. Water in the face until you almost thought you were going to drown, quick breath then all over again. They blindfolded him and took off his jacket and shirt. He struggled against his captors, managing to kick one but they threw him on the table and seemed to enjoy tying his hands and legs down. One sporting a black eye seemed especially happy to tie his broken arm down securely. Sheppard hissed but did not cry out. Not going to give you the pleasure, bastard.
O'Neill looked on horrified as they tied Sheppard to a table. No! "Leave him alone, you bastards!" O'Neill had seen this done before as well. Not to him, but he remembered someone he had rescued...had to wait for back up before they could save the guy.
The leader walked in again. "Come, General O'Neill. We don't want you to be left out. Just tell me where you are from?"
They escorted him out and put him on his knees about 10 yards away.
O'Neill said nothing. He watched as they opened the hose and poured water on Sheppard's face.
Sheppard gasped and shut his eyes as the cold water hit his face. He could hold his breath for over a minute but it was hard to keep the water out of his eyes and nose. Don't tell them general. They can't know about Earth. They can't know about me or we are all dead. He tried to will his mind to talk to O'Neill but O'Neill wasn't Sophistides, and if it wasn't for the water, he would probably be unconscious instead of trying to use his mind.
The water stopped and Sheppard coughed some out.
"Very well then. What are you doing here on Arcadia on an Iliarian ship?"
"Making friends. Trading."
"Trading what?"
"Anything. Look, we are trying to find allies against the Wraith!"
"We have not seen Wraith for thousands of years! Where are you from?"
"Nowhere! Our home world was destroyed."
"What home world was that?"
O'Neill hesitated. Damn what was the name of that damn world! "Sateda,"
"You lie! You cannot remember the name of your own world!" The man nodded again.
Sheppard felt the cold blast of water again. He had not caught a full breath and sputtered as he tried to get some air. Don't tell them anything, he screamed in his mind.
O'Neill clutched his head. Who the hell... Sheppard?
Sheppard tried to get free as the water poured down on him. He pulled on his right arm, feeling the leather burning his skin. It was loose but he could not get free. The water stopped. Sheppard now could not stop the hopeless shivering. His muscles jerked in a vain attempt to warm him.
"O'Neill, you can stop this. Where are you from! Are you from Terra? Are you or is this one the heir that this system has waited for?"
O'Neill looked up at him. "I don't know what the hell you are talking about! Where the hell is Terra? Now let him go and take me instead."
The man grinned and nodded.
"Don't worry. We won't drown him right off. Perhaps he is willing to talk."
The water started again. Sheppard was prepared this time, but he still could not help but swallow some.
Sophistides looked at the map. "He is here! Quickly!!" He saw Sheppard's mind and saw what they were doing to him. Hold on. We are near!
Sheppard heard Sophistides in his mind. Calming him. Even as the water poured on him, and he felt as if he was drowning, he stayed calm. Finally it stopped.
A rough voice was close to his ear and he cringed at the putrid breath. "I can stop all of this if you just tell me the truth. Your general seems to not care for your suffering."
"Ho…how about you…g…g... get your s…stinking breath out of my f...face," Sheppard spat. O'Neill saw the man recoil out of surprise then anger. He raised his hand to strike Sheppard with some kind of stick, but held himself. O'Neill smiled. Score one for Sheppard. Then the water, again just briefly.
"You should have better manners." the man said calmly.
"I…re…reserve those…f…f...for gentlemen. Not…s…s…scumbag lowlife…sss…stinking P…p…Pirates."
Damn, the kid was good. He did not even miss a beat, but O'Neill was concerned. Sheppard was shaking so much it almost looked like he was convulsing.
"What is a pirate?" the man said distractedly as they poured water on Sheppard again. "O'Neill?"
O'Neill gladly told him.
The water stopped. Sheppard felt his right arm coming looser.
"Well Lt Col Sheppard, I suppose your description is not far off. But we digress. As I began. Your general does not seem to care for your suffering."
"We have a…c…code you would know…n….n…nothing about…s…scumbag."
The man looked intrigued. "Really? What is that?"
"It is the code of a warrior. Cowards would not know anything about that." Sheppard's voice had become stronger all of a sudden even though he continued to shiver.
The man yelled in rage and brought the stick down on Sheppard's exposed side.
"I loose my patience Sheppard! You will die here if you do not tell me the information!"
Sheppard let the burn of the stick dissipate. The water was on him again and it was hard for him to catch his breath. He was getting tired. He felt a presence. Ronon? Ronon! Near. Sophostides. Ronon is getting closer!
Ronon heard his radio squawk. "Ronon this is Caldwell. Sophistides says you are getting very close!"
"Understood. I have picked up a trail again. We encountered and taken care of a small patrol but our path seems clear now. I cannot hear or see anything yet. I recommend dispatching back up one mile up. Recommend medical team wait as we can get there quicker."
"Already done, Ronon. If you find them do not act until we are there to back you. ETA is 10 minutes."
Ronon said nothing. Neither did his men. They would do anything necessary.
Sheppard was beyond cold. He was probably hypothermic or close to it. It must be 50, 60 or so degrees outside and they were pouring freaking water down his throat. Weird I don't feel panic. I am going to die and I don't feel panic. I feel pissed!! The water stopped and he pulled his right hand free. Before he knew it, Sheppard had a man between his long fingers and began squeezing his throat as hard as he could. He could not see him but he could feel and hear the man gasping. He heard O'Neill shout something and scuffling off to the side. Then the stick, like the one his grandfather used on horses, was on him. He channeled the pain. He cried out but he channeled the pain to his right hand. He was blindfolded but he saw red and he kept squeezing as hard as he could. Then they punched him in the face and the world became gray for a second. He fought to stay conscious and screamed in rage as someone had grabbed his fingers and tried to pry them off the helpless man's neck. Finally someone hit him in the head again, and this distracted him enough for them to set the man free. He felt a knife at his neck. It cut him slightly as he panted from the adrenaline coursing through him. He struggled until someone had grabbed his free hand slammed it down on the table and tied it more tightly.
The stinking breath again.
"You will pay for that Sheppard. All I wanted was information!"
"Kill me, stinking breath pirate. Kill the general, but you won't get anything."
O'Neill had watched Sheppard grab the helpless buffoon by the throat. Sheppard was big but his hands were slender and O'Neill could not figure out how he had the poor man in a death grip. As his captors hesitated on what to do, O'Neill used his weight to drive one to the ground and kicked him in the head. He had fought off another before he got pile drived to the ground. He saw Sheppard finally release the grunt, who lay clutching his throat and gasping on the ground. Wow. He did not know pilots could do that.
Sheppard felt the water on his face again. They were going to drown him this time. He was still pissed. He focused his mind toward the stinking breath. Ronon was very very close. My people are close! My people are close and you will die, you coward. Sheppard searched his mind the way Sophistides had done his. He had to get loose. He imagined a dark horror and let it loose in the mind of the pirate. If I die, I will die for a reason, not to earn you money!
O'Neill saw the man step back and drop the stick. His eyes were wide with horror. The water stopped as the others looked at him then at Sheppard then at him again. Then shots and blaster fire rang out and men started dropping. He saw a team of men led by Ronon fanning through out the compound. Then he saw a transport land and more men poured out.
He rushed up to Sheppard. The pilot's breathing was labored. "Ronon, hurry!" O'Neill shouted. He struggled to get his bindings off to help him but they were tight.
Ronon approached and tore off Sheppard's blindfold. O'Neill could feel the rage seething off the Satedan, but the man gently undid Sheppard's bindings. The pilot rolled to his side and started coughing out water. Ronon then undid O'Neill's bindings. Sheppard slowly got to his feet and stood over the man who had cowered down. Someone had brought a large thick black robe and wrapped Sheppard in it. O'Neill saw the pilot looking at the pirate leader. His eyes were intense and cold even. Scary. "I will tell you now who I am." He turned around and pointed to his as he dropped the robe down from his shoulder. "This is the mark of the Armentarii. I am King Armentarius. Your sovereign... Pirate."
The man looked wildly at Sheppard, still clutching his head. O'Neill then saw Sheppard's eyes soften and actually looked concerned. Sheppard turned to one of the officers standing next to Ronon. "Do not harm those that don't resist. Arrest them all, but keep this one separate. They will be treated properly."
The man bowed smartly. "Yes, my lord."
Sheppard made his way to the transport refusing assistance. O'Neill had to admit that the man pulled off officer or in this case regal when he needed to. Once they were in the transport the pilot collapsed in a seat. O'Neill sat next to him and wrapped his own blanket around him although it probably added little.
"You okay, kid?"
"Yes, sir. F…fine."
O'Neill shook his head. "Liar. Lay down. That is an order." He used his sternest tone, as if a general could outrank a king.
"Yes...s…sir." Sheppard closed his eyes. A few seconds later, he opened an eye and looked at O'Neill who was looking at him still. "You okay…s…sir?"
"Yeah, kid. A head and back ache, but okay."
Sheppard nodded and focused on breathing. The more that he tried to stop shaking the more he shook. He felt a bit of shame at what he had done to the leader. He had let his anger control him. "I… I hurt him gen…general."
O'Neill leaned down. He had seen the pirate leader collapse. "It's okay…he was going to kill you." He put his hand on the shivering pilot. Yeah, he had seen the pirate collapse into mental goo. He actually felt sorry for him more so than the guy Sheppard had grabbed by the throat. "Sophi…Y...Yoda can help."
O'Neill nodded. "Don't worry about it. Now just stay awake colonel is that understood?"
"Yessir." Sheppard slurred. Shit! "How much longer!" O'Neill barked.
"ETA 5 minutes," Lear announced.
Becket was waiting with a gurney. As soon as they transporter landed, he was there loading Sheppard onto a stretcher and heading off to the designated chamber. "Colonel, can you hear me?" He said rather loudly.
"Yes, I am not deaf!" Sheppard grunted annoyed. "Sleep."
"No not yet colonel. No sleep right now. Do you understand?"
Sheppard did not respond. "Bloody hell," Carson muttered.
"Sheppard, wake up!" O'Neill said close to the colonel's ear. Sheppard's eyes popped open. "Yes sir!" He whispered in a daze.
Carson turned to O'Neill as they wheeled the colonel away to start warming him.
"General, healer Amara is going to take care of you. I understand you have a headache and backache. Once you are comfortable, we should be done with the colonel. I will make sure that you to will be together to recuperate." Beckett had found it better to keep teams together when possible. They seemed to heal quicker especially after a trauma. He doubted he could keep the general out anyway.
O'Neill did not protest. "He will be okay?"
"Aye. As long as we can prevent pneumonia. But if that happens, we can treat it. He is healthy."
Beckett hurried after Sheppard.
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Next Chapter will have Sheppard an O'Neill recovering and bonding some more. Angst for both. After that will probably begin the battle stuff once I figure that out, but will see.