Same Side
AN: I mention something that happened in one of the Stargate: Atlantis novels in this chapter. Dost thou be a true Stargate fan? You would know which one.
Does anyone realize what's going on yet? No one? Am I just that good? (Alright, you can kick me for that one. Hubris bad.)
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Chapter Twenty-One: Bad Bots
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Somewhere between the realization that they were losing the quadruple-decker war and the thought of getting their asses kicked by a joint coalition of super bad guys from two galaxies, Sheppard found enough time to wonder if there was anything else that could go wrong tonight to make this week the official worst week of his entire life.
Turns out, there was.
After getting stuck in an alien shielding device, being zapped by a black smoke monster, taken hostage by angry militants and tortured, stuck at the bottom of the ocean, pumped full of Wraith enzyme, blowing up a solar system (okay, five sixths), having his face and hands eaten by a deadly sandstorm, captured by the Wraith...God only knows how many times, struck by killer Ancient mojo, shot in the ass by an arrow, almost fed upon by a Wraith queen, captured again by rogue Asgards in battle suits, brought the edge of death by a parasite in his brain and the damn list went on, Rodney McKay was going to die from a half-inch piece of metal rebar.
Not that the world in general seemed to care, because despite the fact that his good friend the whiny scientist was bleeding all over himself, the Wraith kept on coming.
"Sergeant, cover my six!" he barked at Epps, taking a moment to shoot down his tenth Wraith. There are now close to twenty-three enemy corpses on the other side. Ronon had taken a stunner blast or two, but kept on finding new and creative ways to fire his weapon. Lennox was sporting a numbed left arm and a very bruised femur from the collapsing roof. Pretty soon they wouldn't have much of a line of defense. Not with Trailbreaker barely spitting out more than five shots a minute, most of which hit nothing but nothing.
But right now, there was nothing more important than this.
Sheppard put his P90 on the ground temporarily, lashing out to catch Rodney as he began to slide to the ground. "Rodney! Rodney!"
It didn't matter what the bar hit, McKay was losing blood fast. His eyelids blinked rapidly, head lolling to one side as the CAR building shook. If only the shield had lasted a few seconds longer, if they'd picked a better spot to take cover, if he'd listened to McKay's idea about the Daedalus; none of that meant anything anymore. They were in the middle of a war zone and there was no damned doctor was a lot of blood. Sam was frozen where he crouched, giving the colonel an impulse to snap at him, "Get something to stop the bleeding, dammit! Stay with me, Rodney."
He saw Epps go down through the corner of his eye. A blue flash, and then Lennox's second-in-command keeled over backwards and hit the cement, out cold. Sheppard couldn't believe this was happening, too fast for him to do anything about it. Either he let go of McKay, which he somehow couldn't bring himself to do, or he let the Wraith feed on him while he tried to save his best friend's life. Either way, someone was going to die very soon and Sheppard had no time to choose.
Somewhere on the other side of the table-turned-barrier, he heard something crash and explode on the hangar floor, drowning out the unintelligible shouts of Ronon and Lennox. When the vibration in the air felt like it would crush his throat, he ducked down and tried his best to stay alive.
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The sky was on fire. Optimus entirely aware that Cybertronian was not a poetic language; it was vastly inferior in terms of emotional portrayal, but there was no language at all to describe this. There were dozens of Wraith craft screaming overhead, unleashing torrents of blue energy beams and translucent, demolecularizing rays. One human soldier after another fell prey to the culling waves, vanishing in the blink of an optic and supposedly gone forever. The Autobot commander just barely managed to dodge one of the darts as it turned its attention to him. He prepared his weapons to shoot the solitary alien vessel, but it unexpectedly erupted in a flash of orange fire and barreled into the ground at high velocity.
"It's about time, Optimus," Ironhide chided from behind his leader. His cannon was still glowing hot from the overpowered shot. "I was wondering if we should show these humans the proper way to fight a war."
"Ironhide," said the Prime, relieved, transmitting the message in their native language. This was no time for small talk, despite his relief at seeing his friend was unharmed. "The Wraith are attempting to get inside our base to kidnap Sam. We will protect this location while you aid the other humans in any way you can."
His weapons' specialist gave a curt nod and turned to comply. Optimus made his tone darker. "Ironhide." The large, black Autobot faced him again. "Show no mercy," said the Prime.
He did not have to completely understand the nature of the Wraith, hybrids or Replicators to know that they were threatening their new home on Earth. And any species, sentient or not, could not simply be left alone when their motives were clearly driven by aimless destruction. Ratchet cast him a glance, which he ignored; every moment they wasted, more humans were becoming the victims of their predatory foes.
Darts were crashing into the Compound grounds like houseflies; by now, the vast lot in front of Compound 1 was littered with burning, twisted wreckage from military vehicles and alien spacecraft alike. No matter how many went down, there were more to take the place of the dead, Optimus observed grimly. He rolled into the open battlefield, tires scraping roughly against the pavement as he swerved to miss a fiery, out-of-control armoured vehicle. Intent on delivering his passenger safely, he pulled up next to the CAR building, just as one of the darts beamed down six Wraith combatants in his path. Unable to transform with her still inside his cab, he relayed an order to Ratchet.
The medical officer unfolded from his terrestrial form and charged the concussive charge emitters in his hands. A split second later, a shockwave powerful enough to knock an Autobot into his recharge cycle struck the group of Wraith. Their petrified bodies flew several yards before landing harmlessly out of their way.
Teyla jumped down after opening the door on Optimus' driver's side. The leader of the Autobots stood up, transforming with his rapid-fire guns at the ready. On the other side of the CAR entrance, Ironhide had picked up half of an obliterated Wraith dart and hurled it into another, just as it was about to bear down on the roof of Compound 2. Once the noise of the explosion died a little, Optimus ordered his last remaining officer, "Ratchet, assist Teyla and the others inside the the residence. I will take care of these annoying pests."
His oldest friend and their human ally disappeared into the mouth of the open hangar. The Prime positioned himself between the opening in the building and the cloud of alien vessels determined to bring ruin to the military base. His processor was just beginning to wonder why the Decepticons had not shown their treacherous faces, when something very unusual happened.
The Wraith darts began to take a strange formation, abandoning their apparently aimless pursuit of destruction and abduction to circle around the Compound in a continuous loop. Optimus' circuits tingled with a feeling of vexation, mere moments before three of the alien crafts broke away from the formation and sped towards him. They engaged their beams, and out of the wavering, pale curtain of light appeared two Decepticons, and a single former comrade.
Storm Jet, Starscream and the infamous Vortex stood in the middle of the scorched grounds, charging their Energon systems for battle. Optimus' first suspicion was confirmed as his optics took in the terrible sight—Megatron was not here, and that meant Megatron and Starscream were operating separately.
It mattered little now. He sent Ironhide a single command in a short, simple data burst.
Do not let them leave.
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Sheppard's hands were covered in fresh blood. His teeth hurt from where he'd struck them against the ground, having been knocked down when their metal barrier leaped out at them under the force of whatever explosion took place on the other side. The colonel's vision spun as he righted himself, squeezing the rag that had miraculously appeared around the rebar in McKay's chest as hard as he could and trying to see the status of their enemies through the smoke and dust.
Something moved with a resounding clang in the midst of it. Sheppard couldn't see his P90, so he grabbed the M9 from McKay's gear and flicked the safety off. It obviously wouldn't be much good against more than a single Wraith or a Decepticon for that matter, but it was something. Lennox was with him, leaning on the back of the twisted metal table and clutching his P90. Ronon was just starting to get up—not enough time to rely on him.
Gritting his teeth, Sheppard smacked Sam Witwicky on the arm, startling the kid out of his brand new daze. He obediently grabbed a hold of the rag that was not doing such a great job at keeping Rodeny alive and put pressure on it. The colonel swiftly cocked his sidearm and aimed it over the ege of the table barrier, waiting for their enemy to appear.
The figure in the smoke emerged, waving the smoke away from his face with a bright green hand and stepping over the carcass of the Wraith dart he had shot down on impulse. There was a wet squelch sound and the Autobot Twin paused, looked at the bottom of his foot and cursed something creative. "Aw, tha's gross, man."
Relief was sweet, cold and welcoming in Sheppard's veins. His breath left his lungs in a sigh that thanked the many cultural deities of mankind and he dropped his guard, coughing as he inhaled the acrid smell of burnt Wraith and metal.
"Shit, Skids," said Lennox, echoing the colonel's cough. "I didn't actually believe you were still alive until now. Where the hell did you come from?"
Before the Twin could answer, another shape came through the hazy screen of smoke and stumbled towards him. Trailbreaker slapped a metallic hand on the green one's back, obviously so low on Energon that it took immense effort just to talk. "I'm not surprised you're still hoppin' around, kid. Never believed you were scrap for a moment. If yous'll excuse me, I gotta lie down now." And he promptly fell forward, spent but alive.
"This 'bot's too hot for all tha' drama," Skids said defensively, waving a dismissive hand at his fallen teammate. "Now where's Mudflap?"
"Listen," growled Sheppard. Outside, everything had gotten eerily quiet—the darts still screeched through the sky, but that was it—and he felt his heart sinking with dread. "You have to focus on keeping the Wraith out of this building, Skids. I don't even know who's side you're on, ours or the Replicators, but that's your only priority right now. Got it?"
"Alrigh', fine, bu' only 'cause your part of the VIP," the infiltrator shot back. The statement lacked his usual carefree flare, as it was obvious his worry for his still missing brother was all that was on his mind. Wading through the various bodies of the Wraith and dart pieces, he stood in the middle of the enormous hangar to await the next wave of enemies, blinking his blue optics at the disastrous scene around him. His questionable attitude aside,nNo one could discount his ability to adapt to critical situations.
"Colonel Sheppard, this is Major Lorne. Please respond."
It was frazzled. It was mostly static, but Sheppard hear the voice on his earpiece regardless of its quality. "Lorne, what's happening?"
"The Daedalus jumped into orbit for a few seconds, sir. They successfully managed to put a nuke on board the last surviving cruiser, which unfortunately knocked out our equipment for a few minutes. They also beamed down some Autobot assistance. I assume he's there with you?"
"Yeah, thanks for the heads up." The sound of McKay's gurgling breathing put a very, very heavy damper on his mood, so the usual sarcasm in his voice sounded more like pure malice. Lorne didn't seem to mind.
"We just made contact with three Decepticon combatants; the Wraith darts were carrying them. We'll be providing back-up support for Optimus and Ironhide unless you have a different plan."
"We're stuck in the CAR at the moment, Major. We've got Sam Witwicky and McKay's seriously injured. That means we need a medical team—hell, I'll settle with a field medic right now. That's an order, Major Lorne. Escort them yourselves if you have to."
"Understood, sir."
Lorne had barely finished speaking into his ear when Sheppard saw the shape of an Autobot fill the entrance of the CAR hangar. The smoke was thinning out, and he could tell already that it was Ratchet. A fraction of him relaxed when he spotted Teyla next to the medical officer, and another hated the irony that the first medic to arrive on the scene was a doctor who couldn't even Rodney stop bleeding. "Teyla!" he shouted, standing up on two wobbly legs. His thigh was throbbing painfully. The Athosian saw him and ran towards their position, easily avoiding the carpet of destruction that lay between them.
Ratchet did a double-take, a strange sight to see for an alien robot, when his optics landed on Skids. He lacked the facial expressions of the average human being, but the light under his mask shone a little brighter and his voice was almost delighted, if irate. "You damned, troublesome miscreant! You had every one of us believing you were dead, you useless slag pile."
"I ain't talkin' to nobody, 'specially not you," the Twin stubbornly announced, and began to ignore his superior officer.
Sam's voice broke the reunion, etched with enraged surprise. "L-Leo, Leo...what are you doing?"
Sheppard tore his attention back to the spot he had left the kid and Rodney, finding themselves joined by Sam's friend: another kid he hadn't had a chance to speak to. Until now, Leo had been hiding inside the office just behind them, despite the fact that it was structurally unsafe to be in. Now he was all but shoving Sam aside in order to grab the rag around McKay's wound. He had already cut through the polyester straps that held his flak jacket together and was trying to cut his shirt away, too.
Leo swatted Sam's had away as he made a grab for the pocket knife. "Knock it off, would you? My mom and dad are both doctors, alright? Pennsylvania State University ring any bells?
Blissfully, Rodney was unconscious from the pain. His face was pale and breathing irregular; a lot of blood was on his clothes and on the ground, making Sheppard's face contort painfully. Leo glanced over at him. "Don't worry about it. It didn't go that far in, just under the clavicle. What sucks it that it could've scraped a lung or something. Man, why did I even bother getting in the car..." The rest of his whining continued under his breath, and no one told him to shut up.
"What happened, John?" Teyla asked breathlessly, unable to hide the grief in her voice when she saw her blood-soaked comrade undergoing the most bizarre form of pre-op.
The colonel shook his head, the dizziness overtaking him. "Long story. What's happened has happened. Now we gotta worry about what's going on out there," he said, nodding towards the entrance to the CAR. "There are Replicators God knows where and Decepticons on our boys outside. Hell, I have no idea what we're supposed to do from here."
"I think I do."
Everyone froze. Ronon stood behind Colonel Sheppard, the barrel of his pistol just inches from the back of his leader's head. There was a listless, almost lifeless glaze in his eyes, as though he couldn't see what he was doing. "Everyone drop their weapons. I'm in charge here."
Everything hit him like a sack of bricks. Risking a few, jerky movements, Sheppard slowly turned his head to look at the large Satedan through the corners of his eyes. "Hey, buddy," he said meekly. "So, uh...how are those arms of yours feeling right about now?"
He hated. Hated. Replicators.
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TBC