Rodney bent over the scanner controls on the bridge of the Daedalus, trying to salvage something of his search pattern. Not that he was complaining exactly. The two other technicians next to him were working furiously to try to penetrate the shielding that the goa'uld had set up around David Sheppard. It was all Rodney could do to keep from shoving them aside to work on the problem himself.
The fact that he WAS working on the problem, alongside his other work and in addition to what the technicians were trying, was a fact that Caldwell didn't need to know at the moment.
The frantic call from the team in New Jersey had pulled the Daedalus out of its position from somewhere over Australia. Rodney brought up the sensor scans they'd been taking as they'd abandoned their slow crawl to leap a hemisphere away. Maybe he'd be able to spot something during the quick fly-around that would lead them to their next starting place at least.
"Status report," bellowed Caldwell from his command chair. There was enough going on that the Colonel had returned to the bridge to attend personally.
"Still nothing, sir. The building is shielded from all EMR going in or out. We can't see or hear anything down there."
"We are getting a ring platform ping, though," another voice called from a different panel. Rodney found himself looking up, curious by the information.
"Someone's trying to ring on board?" Caldwell asked.
"No, sir. I mean that there's a platform in that warehouse. The rings automatically connect to each other through subspace when they're active and idle."
"Can we use the rings to get a team down there?" Rodney shouted, undercutting Caldwell who was trying to ask the same question. Rodney had never been so glad that the Daedalus was equipped with what he considered out of date Goa'uld technology.
"Negative. I mean, we could, except that the platform is requesting authentication."
"Meaning?"
"Meaning anyone who goes down there without the authentication will get scrambled and rematerialize as a pile of goo."
"Oh." Rodney sighed in disappointment.
"Start working on breaking that authentication code. Get the math boys on it," Caldwell ordered.
"Yes, sir."
Rodney went back to work on his scanners, compartmentalizing another part of his brain to think about breaking Goa'uld codes. He set a corner of his screen to keep tabs on the 'math boys' work as well. Caldwell didn't like him butting into the routine of his ship but Rodney wouldn't hesitate to offer a solution – once he had one.
The scanning report he'd been running blinked in readiness and Rodney settled in to sift through the random squeaks and hisses of normal space noise, any of which might point to interference caused by a cloaked ship. That was the theory anyway. They certainly weren't going to get an engraved electronic invitation to point out the ship's location.
Several minutes went by and the bridge of the massive ship felt almost hushed as tension seeped into every corner and bulkhead. Only the rustle of uniforms and an occasional low murmur to a colleague broke the thick stillness.
"Any word from the ground?" Caldwell sounded like a man talking to hear himself talk.
"Just negative, sir. They can't get through the shield down there either. We now have standing orders to beam David Sheppard on board the instant we get a lock on him."
"Acknowledge those orders."
"Yes, sir."
Rodney sighed, tabbed to the next page of sensor data, trying hard not to worry about David. About John. About Teyla who was probably in the air by now with David's girlfriend. Rodney had given Teyla a subspace radio before she left, and she'd been keeping him in the loop on her escort duty. They'd kept their conversations low key. Rodney didn't think that the NID agent she was with would approve of using such classified equipment around this Julia person before they'd accosted her with several days of non-disclosure agreements.
The window in the corner of his screen blinked, drawing his eye to it. They must be using the Daedalus rings to try to coax something out of the platform, he thought. That's not how he'd do it. Maybe he should go help them out after all. He idly toggled the window larger.
And then he stood up with a leap that flung his chair out from behind him with a huge clatter of metal against metal. Heads turned his way. He pounced at the keyboard again, bringing up yet one more screen of data.
"Colonel! I have something!" Rodney shouted, not caring that he wasn't following protocol, or that he was only here today as a guest or that he was already running towards the pilot's console.
"What? What have you got?" Caldwell shouted back, caught up in the mania.
"An engraved invitation," said Rodney.
John didn't think, he reacted.
When the door slid open, he lunged around the frame from where he'd been messing with the crystals and struck out at the first thing he saw, which happened to be the face of thug number two who had dragged him around the ship the last time. The man stumbled backwards and flailed his arms around to keep his balance after John's fist shattered his nose. The arms happened to be holding the long, deceptively simple looking fire stick.
John snatched for the stick, yanked hard and managed to wrestle it out of the guard's hands before the staggering man got his feet back under him. John twirled the stick like a baton between his tied hands and flipped it into ready position. He shoved the end into the guard's belly.
The man screamed, his body convulsed and his eyes glowed with the charge. When John pulled back on the stick, the man fell backwards into his companion, driving them both to the ground in a heap. There were shouts from the cockpit of the cargo ship, but John just took a single quick step out of the ring room, slapped the control that would close the door again and stepped back inside.
He was gulping for air as he waited for the door to slide completely shut. Once it was closed, he shoved the stick, electrode first, into the open control panel. Sparks flew, crystals charred and exploded, and the whole panel finally went dark. John watched for a moment to make certain it remained disabled, then forced himself back towards the ring controls, dragging the stick along with him.
He was shaking violently from the exertion, but it was the good kind of shakes – the kind you got when you'd asked your body to pull out all the stops for you, and it had. He would regret it in the morning – his shredded hand was already talking to him – but he still had something left for the rest of it.
Muffled pounding came from the door as John reached the controls and began the scan for a platform to ring to. He ignored the noise, wiped a trickle of blood off his wrist that had oozed out from under the gauze. He looked at the screen again. Yes! The scan had found a ring platform. On the ground he assumed, but he had no idea where geographically it might be.
For a second John paused. This was a stolen Trust ship. Any ring platforms on the ground were most likely installed by the Trust. He could be escaping Larsen only to find himself in even worse hands. The pounding continued. Larsen's furious screams rose above the thumps.
John punched the command to connect the platforms and begin the transport. He'd take his chances.
There was a grinding screech, and John's gaze was jerked towards the door. They were coaxing it open somehow. It wasn't open far enough to let anyone through, though. He punched the next command and a dull thrumming pulsed through his feet from the rings embedded into the floor.
A spattering of bullets sparked along the wall to his left and John ducked. Ok, the door wasn't open enough to get a person in, but apparently someone had managed to shove a P-90 through the crack. Great.
The control panel blinked readiness, then flashed a warning.
"Authentication? What the hell does that mean?" John muttered to himself out loud.
Another round of bullets zinged around the room and he felt the whiz of a ricochet breeze past his middle. He jerked and shuddered a little at the sight of two fresh new holes in the loose folds of his shirt. He patted his middle briefly, just to make sure there weren't two new holes in him.
"Screw authentication. I'm out of here."
John punched the override button and pushed off the wall towards the ring. He was driven back only a moment later by a hailstorm of bullets flying through the room. The door jerked open another inch. John tried to reach the rings one more time and was again driven back by gunfire.
The humming coming from the floor was growing in intensity, and the pitch was changing from a low vibration to a high frequency grinding. John looked at the door, looked at the platform, then hefted the fire stick and flung it with a desperate heave. It clattered with a clang and a brief spark against the golden doors. He accomplished no more than to make the guy with his arm sticking into the room pull it out for an instant, but it was enough.
John lunged for the rings and made a kind of baseball slide into the center just as the grinding reached its peak and the hovering transporter rings rose up out of the floor around him. He looked at the door between the glowing slats and caught Larsen's expression just before he had to duck a final volley of bullets that were unleashed into the room. Larsen looked pissed.
Then the flash of light engulfed him and he felt himself being split into cool energy. He didn't know where he'd come out. He didn't know who would be there when he did. But he knew it had to be better than here. Probably better than here. He was pretty sure, anyway. Fifty percent sure at least.
Yeah, right. He was scared to death.
"Bring her around to five-six mark oh-seven-two, quarter impulse, and step on it!" Rodney bellowed the command into the face of the Daedalus pilot who froze for a moment in alarm, then shot a look at Caldwell in a silent plea for help.
"Doctor, what are you doing?" Caldwell demanded.
"Just do it first, then listen next."
Caldwell shrugged and nodded an OK to the pilot. Once Rodney was convinced that they were indeed moving, he started towards the bridge's exit.
"Someone is about to ring down to the platform where David Sheppard is. We've got to intercept the transmission," he said as he walked.
"Ring from where?"
"From the cargo ship."
"Doctor, are you saying you've found the cargo ship?"
"Yes."
Rodney poked a button on the navigation console as he passed and the navigator blinked in surprise as a new set of data came up.
"The rings gave it away. Lock onto those coordinates and fire to disable as soon as the transport is complete."
"Doctor, would it just be easier if you had command of the ship?" Caldwell didn't sound very amused by his own joke, but Rodney didn't care.
"He's right sir, we've got a faint signal," the navigator confirmed suddenly, rescuing Rodney from further rebuke. "We can get a lock as long as they don't move too quickly. It's like trying to see a fly out of the corner of your eye."
"Lock weapons on target and stand by. Doctor, who exactly is it that we're trying to intercept?"
"We have no idea who we'll catch, of course. But does it matter? They're from the ship. They can tell us where Sheppard is. Just don't destroy the cargo ship before we find out."
"Understood Doctor. Let's go fishing. Major Marks -."
Rodney reached the exit, paused and turned back with one last bellow, cutting Caldwell off and not even realizing he was doing so, "Send some security to the ring room!"
"- send a security team to the ring platform," Caldwell finished in exasperation.
Rodney jogged through the hallways, trying hard not to let his hopes get too high. He'd seen the handshake between the cargo ship and the platform on the ground. He knew that the authentication code hadn't been sent, at least not yet. Whoever was about to ring down there was destined to become a puddle of goo, to use the technician's technical term. So who would be so desperate that they'd override the code and ring in anyway? Rodney had some ideas, and they all ended with Sheppard.
A couple of heavily armed soldiers pushed past him and he let them run ahead, just in case, though. The ring platform on the Daedalus was in a junction of corridors that led off in three different directions and there was a pair of soldiers, all armed and heavily geared, standing solidly in each. Another quartet of men was surrounding the platform itself, crouched down on knees with weapons aimed high on their shoulders. Caldwell clearly wasn't taking any chances.
Rodney stayed behind the men in his corridor and tapped his radio, "Are we in position?"
"Almost."
"That's not good enough!" Rodney snapped. "If -."
"Security, stand by. We have ring activation confirmed," the voice who'd answered his original question interrupted. "The warehouse platform is responding."
"Move! Get the Daedalus into that beam, now!" Rodney shouted, turning the heads of the security team.
"Increasing speed to half impulse. I can see the transmission." This time Rodney recognized the voice as Daedalus' pilot.
"Are we there?" Rodney asked after another second that felt like years. A grinding moan from the floor of the junction answered his question and Rodney craned his neck to try to see around the men standing in front of him. He saw the uppermost rings rise nearly to the ceiling and then was jolted sideways into the wall when the whole ship lurched unexpectedly. The lights flickered, and the floors vibrated with a rumble of sound.
"What was that?" someone yelled. Rodney could hear fear in the voice, but he was immediately distracted by the rings again. He squinted when the blinding flash of the transporter washed the room with white light. The rings sank back into the floor, and the grinding vibrations faded.
The noise of the ring platform was immediately replaced by the creak of gear and weapons leaning towards whatever, or whoever had arrived. There was a heartbeat of tension during which more muffled booms filtered down to them from somewhere beyond the outer hull, and then, everyone relaxed at once. The noise of abrupt chatter drowned out the murmur of someone speaking confirmation codes.
"Who is it? Who did we get?"
Rodney danced with the security guards they both tried to get out of each others' way until Rodney put his arms out and shoved past into the ring corridor. He still couldn't see. Another cluster of soldiers was standing inside the ring platform itself, looking down at the floor.
One soldier finally holstered his gun and reached down with outstretched hand towards someone on the floor. The soldier heaved, a dark shock of hair appeared over the soldier's shoulder. Rodney felt his breath hitch in happiness.
"Sheppard!"
John looked around until Rodney caught his attention by waving both hands in the air. Rodney almost cheered when John broke into a weary grin. He lifted his chin in greeting and the look of relief on his face was almost frightening to Rodney who wasn't used to seeing his friend show fear, or even the sudden absence of it.
"Hey, Rodney," John said, his voice soft and hoarse with that relief. "Nice catch."