If they were not called Crocuta, then they certainly should have been.
John's team hadn't met with trouble during their initial explorations, only places animals had obviously marked, which made the team increasingly uneasy. At the end of her hallway on the lowest level they'd set out to explore, Teyla had nothing more than yet another flight of stairs down. But then, as the team was regrouping and deciding what to do next, Ronon heard the first low moans of the approaching creatures, coming from the hall behind them and also the floor above. Their first sight of the creatures was when one hopped the stair railing and plummeted down to land on Dr. Collins, not only knocking him over, but tumbling down the flight of stairs with him.
Before anyone could turn to help, they were set upon by the rest of the pack, which came at them from two directions with all the rapid dedication of swarming ants. Down was the only way to go. Hating to retreat, Ronon put up a lot of resistance, but even he was driven back and down by the sheer weight of numbers descending upon them.
The creatures continued to swarm after them, whooping excitedly now, and John realized there was only one way to stop them. He tossed a grenade, which took out not only almost a dozen of the animals, but unfortunately the stairs as well. The surviving animals which had come down the stairs were quickly shot, but the team could hear that still more remained on the floor above, calling uncertainly to one another, snuffling at the hole in the floor in evident bewilderment. Clearly, they were intelligent enough to know that jumping down into the abyss would be a deadly mistake, and none even stuck their heads over the edge far enough for Ronon to shoot them.
However, the victory was not without cost. First of all, when John tried to radio their situation, he couldn't seem to get through to anybody, meaning they were too deep in the structure or there was some interfering element on this level. Which meant that, secondly, they were trapped down here now, unless they could somehow find another way out. Thirdly, Collins was dead, Dr. Morris badly mauled and unconscious, and Rodney's left arm had been bitten when he'd been helping Morris. The rest of them had sustained only minor lacerations and some bruising. Even if no one had been seriously injured, the next level up was too high for them to climb back up, even if they could have stood on each other to make a human ladder. Ancients sure did love their high ceilings.
In his typical backwards fashion, the more severely Rodney was injured, the less he would complain about it. A splinter was enough to send him wailing to the infirmary, declaring a medical emergency. But about the bite he'd sustained he was mostly silent (though he had certainly screamed notably enough when the Crocuta had bitten him). Instead, with rather horrified fascination, Rodney and Drs. Laurenson and Hall examined one of the dead animals more closely. To John, the creatures looked almost like a dark-coated cross between a lion and a hyena.
The creatures stood about three-and-a-half feet tall at the shoulder, which was humped above the thick neck and large head, which they had been carrying low. They were round bodied, compact and quadrupeds, taller fore than they were aft, heavily muscled in both front and hind quarters. Their paws were enormous and sharply clawed. They were ash-gray on the underside, sooty on top, with black rosettes splashed across their coats from nose to tail. In their massive jaws, they had large teeth, which seemed best suited for crushing, though they had certainly done their share of ripping and tearing. Their primary killing tactic seemed to be crushing the windpipe and jugular, but failing at that they would attempt to disembowel their prey, clawing or biting at the midsection. If all else failed, they would bite and crush whatever body part they could get into their mouths.
Rodney was lucky his arm was merely shredded, not broken.
"Somebody said something about a possibly concealed entrance," John recalled, "I think maybe now is the time to start lookin' for it," he glanced upward at the ceiling, "We're certainly not going back the way we came."
A brief exploration by John and Ronon revealed an alcove some way down the hall, and they relocated Morris to this more sheltered position away from the hole in the ceiling. Teyla, Rodney, Laurenson and Hall stayed there while John and Ronon checked out the rest of the hall.
There were several open doors down here, but John couldn't guess what the equipment beyond them was for. He figured one of them had to be the power generator, not that it mattered now. But what they didn't find was an obvious way out. Which meant it was time to go back for Rodney and see what he made of what they'd found. John knew it wasn't likely, but he was hoping there was a button somewhere that would just open a secret exit at the base of the pyramid and they could all simply walk out of here. But when had life ever been that easy out here in the Pegasus Galaxy?
Out of necessity, they wound up relocating everyone to what Rodney identified as the room with the power generator. It was even further from the hole, and more defensible if something came after them.
It was at this point that the radio crackled and made a noise like someone was talking out of it. John responded immediately, but wasn't sure he'd been heard. What he was sure of was that anybody even approaching getting through to them had to be somewhere in the building. And that meant they were in grave danger, and probably didn't even know it.
Comprehending the situation almost as immediately as John himself, Rodney said, "You might get a clearer signal near the hole. Since we didn't get interference before now, it's safe to assume it's something built into the very walls of this level, either that or the power generator itself."
John was already taking off down the hall before Rodney finished the last sentence. Even as he was moving, John tried the radio a couple more times, but was unconvinced anyone had heard him.
Then came the sound of gunfire, and John knew his warning had come too late. But he continued down the hall anyway, not sure what he intended to do once he got there, but hoping maybe he'd get a shot at a Crocuta or… well… something. He didn't know, but he had to get there in case he could make his own opportunity to help his people.
As he neared the end of the hall, he heard shouting, screaming, more gunfire, and the cackling whoops of the Crocuta, confirming his fears about what was happening a level above.
But the worst came about thirty seconds before he reached the end of the hall, for an ominous silence descended. John knew only too well how overwhelming the Crocuta were in their numbers, having experienced it firsthand only a half hour ago. They were so fast, and ruthlessly efficient about killing. John's team was equipped with two of the best and most experienced fighters and wilderness guides in Atlantis, yet they'd come off with one dead and two injured. Any other team under the same conditions would likely have been wiped out altogether for sure.
Someone had fallen through the hole in the ceiling, and landed badly on the rubble John's grenade had generated. The good news was that the Crocuta they'd brought with them was also dead. A judicious amount of bullets had been applied to the back of its skull until it expired. John grabbed the thing by the scruff and hauled its corpse off the human it had assailed, who turned out to be Coughlin, which meant the team that had been attacked was Lorne's. Coughlin was unconscious and bleeding pretty badly from wounds to his arms and face, but he was still alive.
After pulling Coughlin off the rubble pile and onto firmer ground, John leaned forward and peered up through the hole in the floor, using the light on the end of his P90 to see by. There seemed to be little or no activity up there, human, Crocuta or otherwise, which was a little disconcerting.
John thought about calling out to see if anyone was alive up there. But it was possible he'd only attract the attention of any surviving Crocuta, or that by their response anybody left alive would do the same. Someone might be alive but waiting to see if anything else was coming out of the dark to attack them.
Then a cautious head peered over the edge and looked down, squinting at John's flashlight until he altered the beam's direction. John breathed a sigh of relief as he recognized Lorne, looking a bit harried but little worse for wear from what little could be seen from down here.
"Colonel," Lorne acknowledged without apparent surprise, "How're things?"
John smiled in spite of himself. Surprise and relief had a way of making everything surpassingly funny.
So he responded, "I've fallen and I can't get up."
"I see that, sir," Lorne replied, evidently a little amused himself, "I'd invite you up, but the place is a mess."
Major Lorne's team seemed to have gotten lucky. John's team had taken out a large percentage of the Crocuta during their fight with the creatures, and Lorne's team only had to deal with about a half dozen. Even so, Coughlin was badly injured, and there were a handful of bites and scratches to go around for the rest of the team.
But they were alive, and that was more than John had expected. Lorne's relentlessly breezy tone was a welcome relief after the grim, short sentences of Ronon and the perpetual fount of whining that were Laurenson and Rodney (though in fact it was mostly Laurenson whining and Rodney biting his head off for it, but that started working on one's nerves after awhile too).
It had undoubtedly been a long day for Lorne so far, considering that this mission hadn't been given to him first thing, but several hours later, and then he'd done the same kind of exploring John's team had, only with the added expectation of encountering undefined trouble. It was one thing to be prepared for trouble, another to be quite certain it was coming without knowing from which direction or what form it would take. The waiting could be exhausting. And of course now Lorne's team had also been attacked.
You wouldn't know it to hear Lorne, of course. He sounded chipper as ever, and seemed to have no concern about going back to the jumpers for rescue equipment and a first aid kit (John's team only carried so many bandages, and things had gotten rapidly out of hand down here). But John knew better than to think that Lorne was as relaxed as he sounded. Lorne was fully cognizant of the fact that, just because you'd only seen a few, didn't mean there only were a few.
That was one of the other things John had been forced to put up with. Ever since they'd encountered the Crocuta, Laurenson had been spouting hyena facts in between bouts of whining. The man had apparently stored more knowledge of the species than he was capable of keeping to himself, including the "delightful" bit of info that hyenas not infrequently ran in packs (he called them clans) of fifty or more animals. Despite obvious differences between true hyenas and these alien creatures, Laurenson seemed to feel compelled to share information about the Earth animals under the assumption that some little tidbit would prove vital to dealing with the Crocuta.
Lorne didn't need to hear from Laurenson, however. Lorne had experience of his own to draw on. From what John had read about the P3X-403 mission, one of the biggest mistakes of Lorne's then CO, Colonel Edwards, was assuming there were only a few Unas when really there were hundreds, if not thousands. It was the sort of lesson anyone who'd been there was unlikely to forget. Lorne knew that there could be more Crocuta out there, even without Laurenson's help.
He also didn't need to hear from Teyla, who had observed earlier that it was unusual for animals to be so aggressive, ignoring when one of them was wounded or even killed and continuing the assault. Ronon had agreed that they weren't acting like predators hunting, but he could offer no explanation. Since Lorne had already met the unreasoning aggression, he was unlikely to benefit from the additional information that it was unusual animal behavior (assuming he didn't already know that).
Since there was help on the way, there was no need to frantically search for an exit that might not exist. Thus, Rodney and Laurenson redirected their efforts to studying the power generator. As Rodney pointed out, it was more productive than just waiting around, doing nothing. Though after putting up with a few minutes of Rodney and Laurenson bickering, John began having doubts about that.
Rodney argued with everyone, especially people in his department. He and Zelenka often became heated enough that they were no longer speaking the same language. But that seemed to help Rodney concentrate, which in turn led him to produce better results… usually. The arguing was sometimes a distraction from something frightening happening around them, sometimes to vent frustration about a lack of progress, but it nearly always lead to productive work. Laurenson seemed to have the opposite effect, stopping work, distracting from work, and keeping Rodney nervously focused on the animals that had already tried to take a chunk out of his arm.
Hall hadn't had anything to say since the attack by the Crocuta, and contributed nothing to the investigation of the power generator, instead merely sitting in silence, apparently just waiting for this to be over. If she'd ever had any inclination towards becoming a researcher in the field, this had likely cured her of it. Not that her contributions were likely to mean much at this juncture.
The side of the power generator had been ripped open, its innards torn out and chewed up. Apparently the Crocuta had been busy, though John couldn't imagine what they would want with a bunch of power crystals. It explained why there were no power readings in here at all though. Maybe the place had started running out of power, maybe not, but tearing the generator apart was sure to put an end to any function it may have had left.
Finally, John had taken all he was prepared to from Rodney and Laurenson.
"Alright!" he shouted to be heard over their arguing, "Enough! Go to your corners and take a breath. Both of you!"
Rodney and Laurenson glared at each other, but Laurenson flinched first, throwing up his hands and walking away. Only once Laurenson had stalked off did Rodney turn to look at John.
"Is there any chance of finding anything useful in there?" John asked in a low voice.
"Not likely," Rodney replied with a shake of his head, "Probably anything of value was destroyed when those crystals were chewed apart," he sighed, "I didn't know anything had strong enough jaws to do that. Ancient crystals are tougher than they look."
"How come this Temple's abandoned when there are still people guarding the towers?" John asked.
"From what I've been able to piece together, each tower had its own power storage unit. The generator here wasn't powerful enough to supply all of the towers at once, so it filled their batteries one at a time, automatically checked periodically to make sure they were still in good supply. This damage could have been done days, weeks, months or even years ago. Over time, the batteries in the towers just slowly lost their charge. All the more since the Wraith have probably shown up a few times recently."
"What did the towers do? Make some kind of shield? Or were they more offensive?"
"Well, Laurenson and I aren't exactly agreed on that," Rodney replied, "But it doesn't really matter. To be honest, there's not that much left to study. Not with all these crystals yanked out and obliterated."
"So why pick a fight with Laurenson if you're just killing time?" John wanted to know.
"Because it's better than panicking," Rodney replied matter-of-factly.
That struck John as a very Rodney-like thing to say… until it occurred to him to wonder what Rodney had to panic about when the Crocuta were dead and Lorne's team had been dispatched to retrieve the equipment needed to haul Rodney, John and the rest out of this pit they'd inadvertently tumbled into.
"What have you got to panic about?" John asked, "So the mission was a bust, it's not the end of the world. We've come back empty-handed before."
"That's not what I'm worried about," Rodney said, wincing slightly and touching the bandage John had wrapped around the bite on his arm.
"Then what are you worried about?" John asked.
"It's just…" Rodney fidgeted a bit, then finally spat it out, "The way those Crocuta or whatever they were came after us? It reminded me of how the Iratus bugs acted when we went into their nest. And… well… the interior of that power generator looks almost like something was starting to build a nursery."
John felt a chill go down his spine at that. He knew very well that animals tended to defend their nests and offspring ferociously. He also knew that sometimes there were false starts to nest building. If a Crocuta had torn open the power generator, decided it didn't like it and nested somewhere else, there could be young nearby. And possibly more adults with them, guarding them directly as a last line of defense. The longer John's team stayed down here, the more irritated the guardians were likely to become. Another attack could easily be on the horizon. Considering the way the generator had been torn open, the Crocuta could probably dig holes in the walls if they were motivated enough, meaning that attack could come from almost anywhere.
It also meant that Lorne's team might be allowed to leave unmolested, but they could be attacked on their return. That was information Major Lorne could have used, but he was by now beyond range of the hindered radio signal. John could do nothing but hope Lorne and his team would have their guard up when they came back. They should, but John knew how easy it was to be lulled into a false sense of security, especially seeing as Lorne's team had already been through the Ancient building, and killed the only opposition they'd encountered.
Maybe John should have relayed that fact about the number of animals in a hyena pack after all.
As if reading John's thoughts, Rodney said, "Major Lorne isn't as dumb as he looks. And he headed up that mission with the Iratus nest, remember? He lost two people because we underestimated how dangerous going into the nest was going to be. He didn't like it to begin with, and was the only one of us with enough sense to realize the only thing we would accomplish in trying again was more dead bodies."
John hadn't been there, not until later, and his own memories of the incident were more than a little fuzzy. It was obvious Rodney remembered it only too clearly. John hoped Major Lorne remembered it just as well. It might be the only thing that would get them all out of here alive.
Speaking of, "Rodney… why did you want to take this mission?"
Rodney flinched, hesitated, but finally sighed and caved in to the inevitable, which was that John wouldn't leave him alone until he got an answer.
"You're gonna think it's stupid," Rodney warned him.
"You? Have a stupid idea?" John snorted, "Never thought I'd hear you admit that."
"Look," Rodney said irritably, "the thing is… Major Lorne almost died here. Repeatedly. And it was usually because he was trying to protect me," Rodney paused, and John figured he was considering how ungrateful he'd probably sounded about it at the time, "I just thought that, especially with what you said about his service record… if I could find something worthwhile in the Temple, or at least get the towers to work again… he'd have something to show for it," Rodney sighed again and shrugged a little, "Something besides Mission Failed."
"Oh," was the only thing John could think of to say.
Now John understood. The reason Rodney had set his own fears aside, and even his usual pessimism about the likelihood of discovering anything useful in a place like this was because he was feeling guilty.
"I knew Major Lorne couldn't run, that he'd be caught, and probably killed," Rodney's voice was wavering as he spoke, but he continued, "And… I ran anyway. I left him there, after he'd done everything he could, more than could reasonably be asked… and I just left him. He took that knife to the gut for me. And the only thing he'll get for it is another failed mission on his record. It's not fair. And it's not right. And I'm the one who… I'm responsible for it."
"No," John corrected him quietly, "I'm the one who picked Lorne for the mission. Because I didn't want to do it. If anyone's responsible for the mess that followed, it's me. Not you. And definitely not Major Lorne either."