The route Major Lorne had selected was the one that didn't immediately lead to stairs. However, it did have a lot of closed doors. The doors made Lorne uneasy, because he couldn't know for sure there was no way to open them. It didn't seem like there was, but he had a feeling Sheppard would have drawn the same conclusion and something had happened to the Colonel's team in here, probably something unexpected. So Lorne assigned the new man on his team to check in frequently with Dorsey, not only to make sure Dorsey would have a good idea of the team's last known position if something went wrong, but also to keep tabs on radio reception. It was only too easy to go somewhere with poor or no reception and not realize it until too late, especially on alien planets and inside Ancient structures.

At the same time, Lorne quietly assigned himself to keep a close eye on those doors, especially after the team passed them. Alien worlds put whole new meaning to the phrase 'expect the unexpected,' as Lorne well knew. He also knew that nobody was with the SGC very long before they learned to believe in the bogeyman, especially when going down darkened corridors.

Despite Lorne's concerns, most of which went unvoiced, they made it to the end of the corridor and entered what seemed to be some kind of control room. The only other exit that was open led into a chamber with a staircase leading down. None of them being techies except as much as was absolutely essential for their daily jobs, Lorne's team had little business in the control room and didn't linger.

They radioed Dorsey about their position and intention to go down the stairs, and then down they went. Reception was good, and nothing pounced on them from the darkness below, or snuck up on them from behind as they descended the stairs. At the bottom of the staircase, radio reception was still fine, and they were in another corridor, one which Lorne expected led all the way to one of the flights of stairs they'd encountered in the main lobby.

One thing he didn't like: there was another flight of stairs down attached to the one they'd just descended, probably leading to another chamber which likely had an open door to a corridor he knew nothing about as of yet. Annoyingly, the safest thing to do seemed to be to split the team again, leaving personnel here to keep watch on the stairs below while the rest of them checked the corridor.

Major Lorne didn't like it. He didn't like splitting his team. He didn't like how far away the two halves of the team would wind up being from each other if this corridor was as long as the one they'd just traversed. And he didn't like the idea of heading up this corridor and finding that it branched off and then being faced with the uncomfortable reality that he was unwilling to split his team into singles under the circumstances, forcing him to either abandon the search until he could go and retrieve backup (which would take a lot of time, and his team had been deployed under the assumption that time was something they might not have a lot of), or reassign the sentries he'd left (which would leave their rear flanks exposed; a highly undesirable situation to be in).

But of course he didn't say that to his team. They were all smart and experienced enough to figure out on their own what the situation was, and what they needed from him as team leader was to point them in a direction and give orders with confidence. There were a lot of things in life that Lorne was bad at, but this was not one of those things.

"Reed, you're with me, checking the tunnel. Coughlin, Bridge, you hold position here, keep an eye on those stairs. I don't want something coming up behind me."

Acknowledgments all around, nobody objecting, though Bridge looked more unsettled than the others. Lorne hadn't worked with Bridge directly before, though Reed had some positive things to say about him. On a couple of occasions when Lt. Edison had either been short-handed or wanted some extra guys for a mission, he had borrowed Reed. On one of those occasions, Bridge had been assigned to Edison's team as well. Bridge was young and somewhat fractious according to Reed, but solid under pressure. Edison had corroborated Reed's opinion. So far, Bridge hadn't been a problem. Lorne hoped what he was seeing now was just a result of Bridge's being new to this team, or not liking the situation any more than Lorne did, and nothing more troubling than that.

Almost immediately on starting up the hall, Lorne and Reed were hit by a foul animal smell that they couldn't recognize, yet found vaguely familiar. Lorne realized he'd probably smelled it faintly at some point during his last visit to the planet and not really been consciously aware of it. In the open air, it would spread far, but would quickly be masked out by distance, wind and other odors. Within the confines of this building, however, the scent had nowhere to go.

It got stronger as they continued forward, until finally Reed said in a low voice, "What is that? Some kind of animal? What animal smells like that?"

Lorne knew Reed didn't expect him to have an answer, but was actually looking for confirmation that they were both experiencing the same thing, and coming to the same conclusions about it. It was somewhat unusual, but not unheard of, for one member of an SG-team to be affected by or sense something and for the man right next to him not to, especially if there was some obvious difference between them. In the case of Lorne and Reed, the most obvious difference was that one had the ATA gene and the other did not. But, in this case, they were both experiencing the same thing.

"Territory marker, probably," Lorne said, "Those usually smell stronger than whatever animal left them. Keep alert. We've gotten strong indication that there's at least one large predator on this planet that might be partial to people."

"Wonderful," Reed growled quietly.

Neither of them said anything further for awhile, though it really didn't matter a great deal as their flashlights easily gave away their positions. Not that they had a choice about using those. Then, about halfway up the hall, Lorne's light caught something on the wall, and they both stopped to look at it. Some sort of sticky-looking white paste about a foot and a half above floor level.

"Ugh, what's that?" Reed asked, wrinkling his nose in disgust.

"That," Lorne said mildly, "Is our territory marker. I think."

"What sort of animal makes something like that?" Reed wanted to know.

Lorne shrugged, "Dunno. But I do know I'd like to get outta here before we find out. Let's go."

They encountered nothing else in the tunnel. At the end, they called up to Dorsey, confirming that he could see their lights from where he was, then they checked in to make sure Coughlin and Bridge were alright, after which they retraced their steps, the team regrouped, and descended to the level below.

At once, the fell stench increased until it was almost overpowering, Quickly shining a light around, Lorne spotted more of the white paste on the walls, only this glistened like wet paint, which Lorne presumed meant it was extremely fresh. Whatever had left it, it was down here with them.

Checking the radio, Lorne found that he could still contact Dorsey, but the reception wasn't good down here. Once they started moving around, it was possible they'd lose contact altogether, a reality Lorne warned Dorsey about, though of course they were both aware of it. If everything went to hell, he wanted it perfectly clear to anyone who might ask that he had known what he was doing, so that they could judge for themselves whether or not he'd been a fool.

There was another flight of stairs leading down to yet another level, but the stairs had collapsed, leaving behind a gaping black hole. There was little point in leaving anyone back here on guard, and Lorne was just as happy to be able to keep his whole team together.

But before he could get them organized and started down this third tunnel, a thought struck him, and he went back to the collapsed stairs and knelt beside the opening thoughtfully.

"Major?" Bridge queried, apparently to get the attention of the others more than Lorne.

"What is it?" Reed asked, expecting an answer where Bridge had not.

"Why is this collapsed?" Lorne asked, not looking up from his study of the jagged opening in the floor.

"This place is really old," Coughlin suggested, "Even Ancient buildings wear out eventually, especially the oldest of the remote labs. We've seen it before."

"Not like this we haven't," Lorne replied, "This place is old, yes, hell yes. You can feel that just walking the halls. It's got generations of dust gathered in the corners. But besides the main entrance which somebody blasted open, we haven't seen any signs of damage. It looks and feels solid."

Reed and Coughlin sort of looked at each other. There were some features of having the ATA gene that had yet to be studied or so much as acknowledged. It was true that anybody could reasonably be expected to guess that this structure was incredibly old, even if they knew nothing about the Ancients. But Reed and Coughlin had developed the opinion (which they had shared with Lorne) that people with the ATA gene could sense something about Ancient technology that people without could not. They couldn't just psychically know all there was to know about such tech or anything like that, but a small part of what made the use of Ancient technology so intuitive wasn't just good design, but the fact that people with the gene could feel something about it that sort of guided their subconscious in the right direction. It was a very mild sort of a thing, easily overlooked, especially given how few years they had even known that the ATA gene existed.

So when Lorne said he could feel the building's age, Reed and Coughlin were undoubtedly of the opinion that he could sense more than they could on that count. Lorne wasn't so sure about that, and preferred to simply think that he was fairly perceptive. The ATA gene was what had gotten him here, and it was certainly a handy thing to have around Atlantis, but it also made him something markedly different from his men, not just because of training or experience, but genetically distinct in more than the usual way. In the Milky Way Galaxy, such a difference would hardly be noticed most of the time. In Atlantis, it was always in the back of everyone's mind who had the ATA gene and who didn't, as was the reality that the ATA gene -especially naturally- was exceptionally rare, particularly since the pool of people who could even be tested for it was necessarily small.

There could be hundreds or even thousands of humans who had it, but it was a small percentage of the total population, and not only couldn't you just go around testing people willy nilly, there was no guarantee that anyone with the gene would agree to sign a nondisclosure agreement, or that they would be willing to participate in any of the work involving the gene, especially since much of that work involved actually leaving their home planet, which was a big deal to most people.

It was easy to get an overinflated sense of one's value looking at it that way. Lorne was literally a rare individual, not only because he had the ATA gene but because he had it naturally as well... but he was also replaceable. He preferred to think of it as like specialized training. Not everyone could pass certain types of training courses, and even if they did it took time and resources to do that training. While it was inconvenient to replace them, it was far from impossible. But the way his team looked at him sometimes was a reminder that he somehow just... wasn't like them, in a very fundamental way.

But Lorne wasn't really thinking about any of that right now. He was preoccupied with the puzzle of the collapsed staircase. He was quite certain it meant something. He just wasn't sure what.

"Looks like it was blasted," Lorne decided after looking closely at the damage for awhile in the limited light provided by the flashlight, "See the scorching?"

"Sure, but you don't think it's recent, do you?" Bridge asked.

"I think there's a reason Sheppard's team hasn't been in touch," Lorne replied flatly, "And unless there's something a lot more interesting up this hallway than there's been in the other two, I think it must have something to do with whatever happened to these stairs."

"So… what? You want to climb down there and see?" Bridge asked, and there was definitely a sharp edge to his tone that Lorne didn't want to be hearing right now.

"We haven't got the equipment for that with us," Lorne said, "We'd have to go back to the jumper for it."

It was sometimes necessary to lug twenty pounds of gear around the forest with them, but teams generally left their packs either at the Stargate or wherever they set up main operations for the duration of the mission (in this case the jumpers). It just wasn't practical to carry that much weight everywhere with you, especially if you were expecting to encounter trouble and the need to move fast.

"It'll be dark outside now," Bridge pointed out.

"Which is when most large predators are active," Reed supplemented, recalling the conversation he and Lorne had had when they were exploring the level above, "At least on the planets I've visited."

"And we haven't even checked out the hallway yet," Coughlin chimed in.

They were speaking in respectful tones, not quite saying what they thought, but all indirectly conveying that they didn't think that hole in the ground was worth the time Lorne was putting into it, saying things they knew Lorne was already aware of to emphasize their position on the matter.

A different sort of team leader would have snapped at them, reminding them that it was his place to make the decisions, not theirs. Lorne didn't feel the need to do that. It would not have been his way in any case, but having endured numerous undeserved chewing outs from Colonel Edwards had made him especially sensitive when it was and when it was not appropriate to begin ruling by shouting. He could be as fierce as any commander when necessary, but it wasn't the go-to tool in his team leader belt.

Ignoring the attitude of his team, Lorne keyed his radio, "Sheppard, come in," he waited a beat, "Colonel Sheppard, do you read?"

He didn't need to look around to see that heads were shaking and looks being exchanged. Given how deep they'd had to go before they started getting bad reception, it seemed unlikely that Sheppard could be on this level or the one below with a working radio and still fail to respond, unless there was a special kind of interference down here, in which case Lorne could not expect a response.

As he'd recently been made painfully aware, Lorne had a reputation for taking long shots and likely to fail missions. And, as Sheppard had pointed out, it was easy to think that there had to be something wrong with Lorne because he failed so often, rather than it being the nature of the job. It didn't occur to Lorne that Sheppard's pointing out the problem had actually struck a blow at his confidence, or that it could be leading him to read thoughts and feelings into his team that weren't really there. Bridge hardly knew him, and both Coughlin and Reed were stolidly loyal, so getting them to admit aloud that they had concerns about Major Lorne as their team leader would be like trying to kill a Wraith with a slingshot and a container of tic-tacs.

Though he didn't actually expect it to be, Lorne's persistence was rewarded. There was a faint crackle on the radio. Then some silence, then another crackle under which he was certain he could hear a voice. Maybe it was Sheppard, maybe not. But someone had answered, and it sure wasn't Dorsey.

Lorne resisted the impulse to look up at the team from where he knelt by the hole in the floor. So he'd been right this time. No need to rub it in. Maybe if their dissent had been more strenuous or bordering on insubordination, but as it was they had merely voiced their concerns, and Lorne was disinclined to give them a hard time about that.

The radio crackled for a third time, but Lorne couldn't make any of the words out. He was sure now that it was Colonel Sheppard's voice, however. Since the signal was getting clearer, he was inclined to think Sheppard was on the move, possibly coming towards their position. He was inclined to wait a few minutes to see if the signal cleared up further, especially since he still didn't know if Sheppard was down the hole or somewhere up the hall they were in.

But before that had the chance to happen, he heard something from up the hall. It was a low, almost human sound, like a recording of someone saying "Ooh" that had been pitched down and was being played back at quarter speed. But there was a distinctive inhuman quality to it that triggered Lorne's instincts, warning him that it belonged to something animal… something predatory.

All four members of the team had swung their weapons into the ready position the instant they heard the sound, aiming their lights up the hall. There was nothing in their field of view yet. The disembodied oohing came again, almost more like a groan than anything. A second 'ooh' answered the first.

"What the hell is that?" Bridge whispered.

"Sh!" Reed hissed back.

Sudden as a burst of gunfire yet silent as death, two dark shapes lurched into view, one on either side of the hall. There wasn't time to offer warning shots, the creatures were coming too fast, despite the ungainly appearance of their movements. They were difficult to hit, not coming quite straight, their uneven gait rendered deceptive by the poor lighting. Lorne managed to hit one in the shoulder and it let out an ungodly screech as it stumbled and fell, which seemed only to provoke the other, which closed the distance in a blink and leaped for Coughlin's throat.

Coughlin managed to defend himself by putting up his arms and keeping the thing back, but its weight threw him and he crashed into Lorne. The combined weight of man and creature knocked Lorne to the floor, even as the animal he'd injured staggered to its feet.

Sheppard's voice, a little broken up but at last intelligible, came over the radio, trying to warn them of the danger, telling them to get out. But it was too late for the warning or the instruction to be any use.

A third creature appeared, smaller than the first two but just as fast. Lorne could see and do little from where he was, but he heard more 'oohing' and was sure there were creatures in the dark that they hadn't even seen yet.

The one that had most recently appeared lunged for Bridge, but instead of going for his throat as he'd obviously expected, it came in low and tried to rip into his midsection. It had powerful jaws and enormous fangs, but they closed only on Bridge's vest. It yanked hard enough to pull the startled man down on top of it, the vest made a tearing sound and Bridge's light was shattered, but Bridge's yell was more of panic than pain. More gunfire followed, but Lorne wasn't sure if any of the creatures were hit because he was pinned under the weight of the struggling Coughlin and the creature which was attacking him.

After that, the situation rapidly devolved into one of complete chaos.