WHIRLWIND - by NotTasha

PART 14: MOTTLE COLLIE

Sheppard jogged to the Gate, hurrying even though he knew it was too late.

The DHD was visible over the fields of smoldering wheat-like grain. There was no sign of the people that should have been there as well. Sheppard increased his speed as they trekked up a slight slope and came to an abrupt halt. He stalled Clemmon and Gilbert with a movement of his arm.

For a moment, he stood there, observing the scene. Teyla came alongside him, pressing close, but neither looked at each other.

The wind blew in the wrong direction, otherwise the scent of burned flesh would have reached them first. Charred, and almost indistinguishable from each other, four bodies lay haphazardly in the blasted area. All around them, the wheat was burned to stubble.

Nobody spoke immediately as they took in the sobering scene. The wind kept up, buffeting their backs.

Finally, Clemmon broke the silence, sighing softly, "Oh, Valeria. Poor Luther." She drew a deep breath and then asked, "Why did the Wraith do this? Why did they 'kill'? It's not like the Wraith to destroy a lifeforce that they might have fed from."

"They are angry," Teyla responded softly. "They did not expect resistance. They did not expect to take such losses."

"Revenge," Sheppard commented, his face kept taut. "Revenge rarely makes much sense."

He stepped forward, his movements were quick as he closed the distance to hunch over one body. The blackened uniform and weapon told him it was one of the Atlaneans. He found the dogtags, and removed one carefully. Lt. Kelley Radcliff, he noted as he clutched the identifier.

She liked birds. On every planet she visited, her eyes were always on the trees or searching the skies for things in flight. She kept a journal of what she found, drawing surprisingly good renditions of avian life in Pegasus. He hoped she had a chance to see the black birds of Colo up close. She probably would have thought they were beautiful.

She told him once about her macaw. She'd picked it up somewhere, 'used'. It would say things like, "Wicked pisser," and "Swim Faster, Eddie!" and "Iowa Sucks". She never did figure out where it learned those phrases.

It was a big messy bird that made too much noise, threw its damned seeds everywhere, pooped all over the place, and never let her sleep in on the weekends. She pined for that bird every day, and drew pictures of anything with wings.

Sheppard straightened, smoothing down the fabric of his uniform and moved to the next form.

Woodward was still clutching his weapon. Dedicatedly, Sheppard removed his dogtag as well. Randall was a musician. He loved brass instruments, especially the trumpet. He'd been in the Marine Band. Had played for the President.

He'd been in a garage band in his youth, a band with a 'kicking horn line', something along the lines of 'Tower of Power'. He had been trying to put together some sort of a group on Atlantis, but could never get the right talents for the type of music he wanted to play.

It didn't stop him from trying.

Sheppard clutched the two tags as he gazed at his people. He wished he could give Kelley Radcliff leave to see her parents and that big messy Iowa-hating bird. Wished Randall Woodward might have been able to put that band together and play the hell out of the music he loved.

He remained near them, standing at attention, wishing he could do more for them.

Gilbert hung back, staring at the bodies of his friends, his eyes wide and sorrowful. It was Clemmon that stepped forward, pulling off her jacket and draping it over the face of one of the Colo. She wrapped the jacket around the body, as if she were tucking a child into bed.

"Gilbert," she called and reached out her hand.

He looked at her, his expression lost. "What?" he asked hollowly. "What do you want?"

"Your coat," she said softly. "For Luther."

Gilbert quickly shucked off his jacket and held it out to his sister, but seemed unable to move forward.

Clemmon was forgiving and walked the few steps to reach him. She paused as she took the jacket. They shared a glance, and then she turned to the other body and covered its face as well, being careful to secure the fabric against the wind.

That done, she stood back and looked to Sheppard. "What do we do now?" she asked.

Sheppard had moved closer to the toppled Gate, to see how far the group had progressed. They'd tunneled under the heavy device, creating a trench and had passed the cables through. He nodded thoughtfully at their clever thinking.

It looked as if the cabling was complete. They'd done a good job, harnessing up the Gate and getting it ready for the big flip. The work looked as if it might actually hold as if someone had some mechanical skill. He wondered which of the four had provided the necessary knowledge. He knew little about them, outside of Radcliff's love of birds and Woodward's for his horn. He knew that were good soldiers.

Certainly Valeria and Luther had passions and skills.

He was proud of them.

Glancing to Teyla, he noted the stance of the Athosian. She stood alone, away from the rest, her expression bleak. Her brow knitted as if she suffered from a headache.

Beckett's hope-filled voice called over the radio, "Colonel, have you made it to the site? Are they all right?"

"We're here," Sheppard responded to the first question. Then, after a pause, he added, "They didn't make it."

"Oh," Beckett responded, putting so much sorrow into that word, so much regret.

"Nothing you could have done if you were with us, Doc," Sheppard tried to soothe as he gazed toward the corpses. "Nothing anyone could have done."

"Aye," was all he said in return.

Sheppard blew out a breath, and asked, "How's the weapon coming, McKay?"

"Huh?"

The weapon, were you able to get it operational?"

"Yeah, yeah. I'm just I was able to fix it, but it's going to take a while to fire up. The power... It's not It's not good."

Sheppard frowned, moving a few steps from the scene, not wanting to linger among the dead. "What do you mean?"

"This thing takes a lot of power," McKay told him, his voice quieter than it should be.

His frown deepening, Sheppard asked, "There's not enough to get it working?"

"Not that," McKay replied. "It's it's just that it hasn't been used in 10,000 years so it's it's going to take a little while to boot up."

"Sounds like my first computer," Sheppard stated, listening carefully to his friend's voice.

"Did I mention power? It's a lot of power."

"Yeah, you said that." Sheppard listened carefully to his friend, not liking what he was hearing.

It was Teyla that spoke up beside him, "Do you believe the Wraith will be able to see the power signature from the Hive."

"Probably not until we're locked onto them, but when we do, it should light up the hive's systems like a Christmas tree. Ah oh wait You probably don't know Christmas Tree is a tree with lots of lights. Wait there was one in the Mess last year. So it would be like that well, really just one big light. Like a spotlight. More like a spotlight than a Christmas tree. You know what a spotlight is, don't you?"

"Rodney?" Sheppard tried to break in.

"Maybe a searchlight is a better analogy. Remember seeing searchlights when you were a kidcolonel? Off in the distance? Always thought that they meant something importantAs if there was something great out there only needed to track it down. I I always felt like I needed to be there to be part of it but they the searchlights they usually were just for the grand opening of a new car dealership or something. But I wanted to ahoh" The last sound seemed lost in pain.

Sheppard stiffened at the sound, wishing he was there.

"McKay" Ronon spoke, his voice more concerned than annoyed.

"Right right. Yes, the Wraith will know when they've been targeted."

"Aim fast," Sheppard told him, grimacing and hating this.

"You do realize there's a a... delay, right?" McKay countered. "You think it's a long pause for your puny little gun. Think about what it'll take to fire this baby."

"Yeah," Sheppard said glumly. "We'll just have to manage."

"I can help," Teyla put in. She rested a hand on Sheppard's arm. Her helpless look was gone. "I can assist."

"How?" Sheppard responded, curious.

Teyla looked skyward, and said confidently, "I will distract them."

88888888888888888888888888

"What does she mean distract them?" McKay asked, keeping his gaze on the weapon's display screen as he adjusted the controls.

Ronon shrugged. "She's got that connection with them. I figure she'll use that somehow."

"Oh," McKay replied. "Yeah." He closed his eyes, looking annoyed for not knowing that. He hunched his shoulders. "Play a little hocus-pocus on them? A little misdirection and sleight of hand? Hmmm" He closed his eyes tightly, pressing the lids together as if to force away his obvious pain.

With a frown Ronon noticed the dark patches were lengthening on his jacket. Rodney wasn't going to last much longer like this. The Satedan let out a soft growl, feeling frustrated in his inability to help.

McKay raised his gaze for a moment, glancing toward him, but returned his attention to the machine before their eyes met, his mouth set in a tight line.

Fernald kept his distance from Dex, and edged away. Shipley had done what he could to cover up the mess that was left of Ames, but Sheldahl seemed ready to leave the man in two pieces in the street and wouldn't help him move them.

Huxley glanced from McKay to Ronon, his expression confirming Ronon's suspicion regarding the scientist.

"McKay," Ronon called, moving closer when Rodney didn't respond.

"What?" McKay replied, attempting to sound irritated, but the feeling was lost in the softness of his voice.

"Can you do this?" Ronon asked.

"Of course I can," McKay responded. He was leaning forward in the weapon's seat, his eyes closed, resting his head against the edge of the display. "I have to."

"You boys about ready?" Sheppard asked over the radio.

McKay blinked blearily. "According to the readout we have about ten more minutes," he stated. "Can't try it until it's fully charged. Should should give us enough power for one good shot. Might not have another though."

"Why don't we try it at partial charge?" Sheppard asked. "It'd be better than nothing, and sooner is usually better."

With a grimace, McKay responded, "Because we're taking out a Hive ship that's outside of the planet's atmosphere! We can't do this halfway."

Great," Sheppard replied. "We're heading back toward the dart. Hey, how's this going to affect the ship?"

"What?"

"The ship we've staked out. You said that this big gun of yours is going to knock everything out of the sky. Doesn't that mean we'll be S.O.L. if we try to fire up our dart?"

McKay said nothing immediately, he just breathed hard as clung to the display of the weapon, closing his eyes again as he thought.

"McKay?" Sheppard prompted.

"Yeah, you said it " McKay started, "It'll knock out everything that's moving." He was taking on a truly unhealthy hue. Ronon moved closer, jammed one boot into the foothold of the weapon, ready to climb it.

There was a pause, then Sheppard started, "So, if something is already out of commission"

"Shouldn't shouldn't affect it. Not charged up. Shouldn't affect the reset."

"Shouldn't?"

McKay licked his lips and nodded his head against the screen. "Can't say for sure but I think I think that'll be the case."

"What about the shield?"

"Oh," McKay said. "We're not aiming at that. Shouldn't be an issue."

There was another pause, longer than the one before. "How much time left?"

"What did I say just a minute ago?"

"Ten minutes?"

"Nine then. There're nine minutes left."

"Just hang in there, Rodney. We're almost done." Sheppard sounded apologetic. And then, "In a couple minutes, Teyla's going to make contact. Nice and easy though, right?"

"Teyla," Beckett's voice came on, sounding frustrated, "You best be careful. I'm not there to look after things. And Rodney, I don't like how you're sounding. I don't think you should be"

"I know!" McKay bit back. "I know. You don't like how I sound. Fine. Don't listen!" He blinked at the display, trying to look competent. "As soon as we get this done, I'll put in for for a vacation." He poked at the screen, adjusting the machine, preparing it.

Ronon watched him, keeping an eye on his charge. The man seemed to be wobbling, hardly able to sit up in the seat.

"Rodney," Beckett said, a pleading tone to his voice. "Let me know how you're feelin'. It'd help me to"

"I feel like crap. Does that help?" The machine responded to his commands, turning about, changing its angle.

"Rodney" Beckett continued doggedly, "I'm not there to check on you. I can't help you if you don't tell me what's goin' on."

"Glad you're not here. Don't think I could could handleyou trying to mottle collie me."

"What was that?" Beckett returned.

"Mottle col wait wait model callMOLLY! Molly-coddle. Give me a break. It's hard enough just trying to get this thing working without remembering all the right words and fending off your" His voice cut off with a sharp intake of breath.

Rodney paused, blinking. He looked totally confused and his head dipped. His face lost what little color remained.

"McKay," Ronon called softly.

The scientist turned to him, lost. "I don't feel so good," he said apologetically, his voice drifting to nothing as his eyes rolled back. He went limp, bonelessly toppling to one side.

Ronon moved quickly, grasping tightly to the side of the machine with one hand as he stepped up, catching McKay before he slid entirely out of the seat and saving him from falling headfirst to the ground below.

"Gotcha," he said softly.

He adjusted Rodney's weight as he stepped down, careful of McKay's back as he maneuvered the unconscious man free of the seat. The ground beneath them was littered with debris. This was no place for Rodney.

Ronon lifted the Canadian over the broken building to a safe little alcove in all the chaos, and lowered him, curling him into the protected space. Rodney was shuddering.

The humid weather hadn't lifted, but McKay felt cold. Ronon pulled off his coat and draped it over the man, hoping to warm him. Huxley was suddenly at his side, unclipping his med bag from his belt to rifle through its contents. Ronon stood, getting out of the medic's way.

Over the radio, Ronon could make out Beckett and Sheppard shouting, asking questions about what the hell just happened.

"McKay's down," he finally stated, silencing them for a moment.

Beckett declared, "I'm coming. I'll take down the shield and surely someone here can"

"Carson, don't you touch that shield," Sheppard shot back. "They've got Huxley with them. Private?"

"Yes sir," Huxley responded brightly. "I'm with Dr. McKay now. I'll see to him."

"Report when you know something. I'm coming to your location," Sheppard declared. "We might need someone with the gene to fire that big gun. Let's not take any chances."

Ronon stood over Rodney, leaning against a broken roof support and watched the physicist's colorless face. Rodney's eyes fluttered open for a moment. His eyes darted, looking unnaturally blue against his pallid skin. He looked up, taking a moment to find Ronon.

Rodney softly whispered, "Sorry. Tell them" His eyes closed again and continued to tremble.

Huxley might have been a fine medic, but it was obvious that McKay needed real help he needed Beckett.

Beside him, something flickered and Dex turned, spinning his weapon into his hand. The remaining Colo backed away, watching in surprise as the domed shield flickered, flashed and suddenly went out.

Surprised, he let the weapon drop to his side.

He could hear the din of the shocked townspeople, even though he couldn't quite see them through the wreck of the town.

"Beckett!' Sheppard bellowed. "What did I tell you?! Get that goddamn thing back up!"

"It wasn't me that did it!" Beckett insisted, his voice frantic and high. "I swear to you, it turned itself off. The power must've given way! I didn't notice it was"

"Get that backup battery working!"

"Right right I"

"Beckett, do it!"

"You know that I don't get along well with this sort of technology, don't you? Colonel, the shield is down. Rodney's just a wee distance from here. I should"

Teyla's voice broke into the conversation, her tone urgent, "There is no time," she declared. "They are preparing for another attack."

"How many?" Sheppard asked, his voice hard.

"Many," Teyla told him.

"Beckett! Get that shield online. Ronon. Get on that damn gun. See if it responds."

Ronon leaned down to give McKay a pat on the shoulder, then handed the grenade launcher to Huxley. He swung himself up and onto the EMP weapon as the sky darkened around them.

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TBC - it was only a matter of time... poor McKay