Chapter 15

He felt like he'd walked for days. In fact, Tamrak had been on his feet for the better part of half a day now without a break, and he sorely needed to rest.

The journey had been fraught with dangers. Valkalar would no doubt have minions searching for them, so he had been forced to abandon the craft he'd stolen in a secluded area where it would be difficult to find and wander along routes off the beaten track, courses far harder on his body than the open routes he was used to. All this with only the vaguest knowledge of the lay of the land and the fervent hope he was heading in the right direction.

Tamrak rubbed absently at his scratched arms, gouged raw by various plants and shrubs as he'd trekked his way through numerous expanses of woodland cover and thorny thickets. But much as the scrub had been painful as it pricked at his skin, the open lands in between such covered stretches had been far worse, wracking his nerves as he'd done his best to trace wide berths around any well used transport routes. Travellers generally took the most direct route between one point and another, so the only other living souls he was likely to come across were those also evading attention. Those seeking cover for nefarious purposes. Those who would cut their throats and steal their meagre supplies without so much as an iota of regret.

He'd been fortunate enough not to come across anyone else, but he'd been terrified the whole time non-the-less. When he'd set out on this little crusade to help Teyla reunite with her people, he'd felt good about his choice…thought it was the right and noble thing to do. Now…now part of him wished he'd stayed put and tolerated the misery of his former existence. At least it had some level of predictability in its cruelty. Fear of the unknown was far worse than the constant dread he'd grown accustomed to. That thought woke him from his self-pity, and he remembered his earlier interactions with the human, thinking of her grace and gratitude. No, this was the right thing to do. His personal discomfort was nothing compared to what she had endured. He could tolerate the fear if he could reunite her with her friends.

He stumped the last few yards to the tree line edging the Birajan encampment he'd snatched Teyla from all those weeks ago, not daring to go any closer for fear of being spotted before he had the chance to help her emerge from the device. If they thought he was a danger to them, they might kill him before he could tell them where Teyla was.

It was eerily quiet as he approached the camp. Twilight cast the woodlands surrounding him in deep shadows and he could see no light at all permeating the branches and scrubland. Things felt too still. Unnerved, he decided to release Teyla here so she could accompany him on these last nerve-wracking steps of his journey.

Teyla swayed a little on reintegration, her body still unused to the process. He couldn't imagine how odd it felt to be taken apart and then reassembled, and he was in no hurry to find out.

'Are we here?' she asked, swiftly taking in her surroundings.

He gestured behind her, 'It's just through those trees.'

She struck out in the direction he had indicated without hesitation, and he hurried to catch up to her. A fearful tingle ran the length of his spine, but it wasn't fear of how he might be received. It was the tingle of unease…that all was not as it should be.

They broke free of the trees and entered a scene of utter devastation. Most things from the camp were missing, but what remained had been tossed about and ransacked as if someone had been searching for something.

Teyla stumbled to a halt ahead of him. 'Are you sure this is the right place?' she asked in a voice little more than a whisper as she turned full circle to take it all in.

'I am. This is definitely the woodland where your friends were hiding. They must have…moved on.'

'Moved on?' Teyla wandered about the sight now, picking up what few things remained of the rebel's things, and dropping them again after a cursory examination. 'It seems they left in a hurry.'

'Yes…' he murmured. 'Yes…it does look that way.'

It was almost too dark to see anything now, and he nearly tripped several times as he followed Teyla around the camp. She seemed less troubled, stepping carefully around various obstacles, her night visions clearly far more acute than his.

'What could make them move so suddenly?' she mused, stopping to look down on the remnants of a campfire. 'It is as if they fled for their lives.'

He understood it was a rhetorical question, but Tamrak felt compelled to help her find the answer. 'I…I'm not sure. Perhaps other Birajans came after them because of what happened at Phylacos. Some believed Akalus was their saviour. His death left a chasm in their belief system.'

'Akalus was no one's saviour. She was a mad woman.'

'Woman?'

She turned to face him, her attention captured by his questioning tone.

'Akalus was neither a man nor a woman,' he explained. 'He was a man once, so the stories say…but not anymore. He was a…I cannot describe what he was. He had power the likes of which I could never hope to understand. He was like a demon. Those that followed him did so out of fear of the repercussions should they not. Say what you like about Prince Valkalar, his one admirable quality was that he never showed fear to that monster.'

'That is not true. Demons are not killed so quickly,' Teyla told him, returning to his side. 'We found her body in the rubble'

'Her body?'

'Yes, she was a young woman. Nothing demonic about her.'

'Perhaps he was a young woman that day,' he told her. 'But the scriptures tell that Akalus has walked among the peoples of this galaxy for thousands of years. No living being can do that.' He noticed the doubt in her expression, even in the scant light of the failing day. 'Akalus used hosts to communicate with his subjects. Akalus was a spirit…an ethereal force…not made of flesh and blood. Without a host he could not communicate with the living.'

Teyla froze, her huge eyes glazed as she stared at him. 'And these scriptures…they are true?'

He shrugged. 'I grew up listening to my father recite them. They have been passed down through the generations. As far as I know they hold no lies.'

She grasped his shoulders, her gaze even more intense. 'Is it possible that only the host died in Phylacos?'

'Akalus never leaves a host living, but he can survive without them. No…that's not true. I believe one host survived to tell the tale. Housing the power of Akalus is usually too much for a mortal body. She must have been very strong.' He realised he hadn't answered her question. 'It has been many weeks since the explosion and no one has seen any signs that Akalus remains. I hope he somehow died in the conflagration.'

'But if he didn't, he would seek revenge on those who would thwart his plans, wouldn't he?' Teyla suggested.

Tamrak looked around at the abandoned camp, at the various items cast aside in the hurry to leave. 'You think he came back for the rebels?'

'I am not sure,' she admitted, releasing her grip on him. 'But I fear it might be so.'

Cold crept the length of his spine, and he gave an involuntary shudder. 'Still…if he were yet alive and he chased them out…that means this would be a safe place to hide out until daylight.'

He could sense Teyla's mounting alarm, but she did an admirable job of mastering it. 'Yes…that is true. There is a shelter still standing over there. We could use that to conceal ourselves.'

He followed the direction in which she pointed, spotting the ramshackle, semi-collapsed tent on the far side of the remnants of the campfire. He'd never considered his accommodations at the palace to be luxurious because they weren't, but compared to this…he found himself longing for the confines of his old, bland room. 'Yes,' he sighed. 'That will do just fine.'

As if sensing his reticence, Teyla took his hand, and smiled at him as she gave it a gentle squeeze. 'This has been a hard day for you, Tamrak. I am sure rest will make things seem less daunting.'

He nodded, watching her trek off in the direction of the shelter, not doubting that she was right. But with thoughts of Valkalar's henchmen tracking them, nothing but a floor sheet to sleep on, and now the nagging worry that the demon Akalus might not be as dead as he'd assumed, Tamrak doubted sleep was going to come to him too easily this night.

oooOOOooo

It was only weeks now until the blackhole reached its optimal power levels.

It was critical to get the timing right.

Akalus worked on his calculations once more, desperately trying to find the missing component that prevented the algorithm Dr McKay had drawn up from completing the necessary programming to override the Stargate system's safety protocols. It looked right to him, but something was preventing the programme from working correctly. He cursed McKay, while at the same time knowing he had the human to thank for his ability to finally see his plan through. McKay's overloading of the massive energy source on Doranda had both fed and damaged the system's sun, causing it to grow while shortening its lifespan by over a million years. If McKay hadn't triggered that massive explosion all those millennia ago, the sun would never have become supercharged enough to form such a powerful black hole when it collapsed. Soon, the supermassive blackhole would attain quasar status, the energy levels being emitted potent enough to power the stargates it would connected to and keep them open indefinitely even after the Stargate in the remnants of that system had been swallowed. Stargates across the universe would become operational and unstoppable. Universal destruction in slow motion would begin, with not a thing anyone could do to reverse it.

He leaned his metal suited form back in his seat. He would have sighed if he had the breath to do it. Frustrated and angry, he felt the facility around him began to vibrate and rumble, reacting to his emotions. Dust fluttered down onto the workstation in front of him and he forced himself to be calm. He couldn't lose this facility. This was the hub of his operations, the home of all the vital components that would bring his plan to fruition.

All except one.

The human.

Sheppard was growing sicker by the day, and his useless friends had thus far done nothing to intervene. In an ideal world, Sheppard would be with him now, and he would ensure the human had the health and strength required to not only survive until the quasar phase, but through the process of powering up the Stargate connections. It would take everything the human had to survive long enough to make it happen, but in his current state, these last few weeks seemed like an impossible target for Sheppard to even make it through alive. Very soon he would have to take charge of the situation himself…make enemies he could well do without aggravating at this sensitive time. But Sheppard's survival was tantamount. Everything else was an inconvenience he would just have to deal with.

The hour was growing late. The humans would be sleeping now. He only had a few hours at most to work on this problem before the camp would begin to stir.

But Sheppard's survival had to be priority now. Without him, the calculations, the work, all his time spent patiently waiting, would be for nothing. So, Akalus began to formulate his plan to heal the human, whether he could get him away from the others yet or not.

oooOOOooo

When his eyes opened to complete blackness it took Sheppard a few moments to get his bearings and remember where he was. For a time, with his head throbbing and a dull ache pulsing through his bones, he thought he was in his cell in Phylacos, once again alone as his life slowly ebbed away a day at a time. Gradually, he recalled that that was all far behind him now, and he felt around at his bedside for his P-90, finding it just where he'd left it. He flicked on the flashlight, using its pin-point illumination to check the rest of the cavern. Mehra lay sprawled out on her bedroll, mouth agape, deep asleep. Jemma, too, lay unmoving on the thin mattress beside his, her back toward him, so quiet he couldn't even hear her breath. But there was no sign of either Rodney or Ronon. They still hadn't returned.

Though he knew they were most likely still with the jumper, McKay stubbornly refusing to abandon his project until he had the thing running again, the creeping sense of unease pricking at his spine forced him to snatch up his radio and pick his way quietly out of their chamber. The flashlight didn't cast a wide arc of illumination, so he was able to do so without waking the others. He really didn't need a hundred-and-one questions from Jemma right now so that suited him just fine. Aiming his light down, he weaved his way between Mishta, Lansha and Juroah in the next chamber, who all slumbered peacefully. They were accustomed to spending most of their lives in uncomfortable and strange places. None of them stirred as he passed.

Stepping softly, Sheppard made his way to the cave entrance, accompanied by the gentle sounds of snoring emanating from the various offshoots of that main docking chamber. No one else roused. The whole tribe was asleep.

The night air was cool, and the shadows deep as he approached the end of the entrance tunnel and looked out across the small clearing at the cave mouth. A creeping sensation prickled up his spine again, the sense that he was being watched by something lurking in the trees that stood at its perimeter. He drew back a little and turned off his flashlight to conceal his position, hoping he was mistaken.

Nothing moved. All was silent. Perhaps he'd been mistaken.

Eventually the sensation subsided, and he acknowledged that his paranoia might have gotten the better of him. His health was failing, and a sense of vulnerability was nibbling away at his confidence, slowly eroding it day by day. Inwardly chastising himself for allowing his fear to get the better of him, Sheppard activated his radio and whispered, 'Ronon, Rodney. This is Sheppard. Come in.'

After a few seconds of delay, a sleepy sounding Ronon grunted, 'Here.'

Relief washed through Sheppard, alerting him to how much subconscious anxiety he'd been carrying about their absence. 'Everything okay, buddy?'

The sound of a stifled yawn slowed the response this time. 'Yup. McKay thinks he can have the jumper fixed in…' The pause that followed was soon filled with Rodney's slightly removed complaints about arbitrary timescales, but eventually he snapped that it might take him another hour…maybe two.

'You hear that?' Ronon asked.

'Yeah, I heard. Tell him not to bust a gut over it. We can wait.'

'I already told him that…but…you know McKay…'

'Yeah…I know McKay.' The scientist's ego would not allow him to admit defeat to an ailing jumper, no matter how badly it had been cannibalised. 'Is Hakkar still there with you?'

'Yeah…he's sleeping in the back. Only place he could fit.'

Sheppard relaxed a little at that confirmation, allowing his body to slouch against the cave wall. Hakkar and his men were formidable fighters and had proved unwaveringly loyal since being released from Akalus' grip. Despite Ronon's reservations, Sheppard knew the Kheprian would take good care of his friends. 'That's good. Make sure you get some rest. We're going to need all-hands-on-deck for the move tomorrow.'

'Planning on it,' Ronon slurred back, already sounding like he was bordering on unconsciousness again.

The radio fell silent, and Sheppard didn't bother to give a sign off, not wanting to interrupt his friend anymore. Fatigue was tugging at him now that he knew all was well, drawing him back to his bed, but in the scant illumination from the stars that spilled through the cave's maw, Sheppard caught sight of Marmotah's transporter and curiosity took over. He figured a quick look to satiate his inquisitiveness wouldn't hurt. The little creep would never know.

It took more physical effort than it should have to haul his body aboard, and he slumped into the pilot seat with a sigh of relief as he sank into its comfortable padding. Running his hands over controls, all swathed in darkness with only a little help from his P-90 flashlight, he got a feel for how it handled, recognising the various levers, buttons and joysticks from the visual memory of their earlier flight. Everything felt a little cramped, being designed for the Birajan frame, but in a pinch he would happily take the thing for a spin. The temptation to fire it up was almost too much to bear, but that was a whole heap of trouble he had no desire to step into considering how his body felt after their last confrontation. Still, it had been worth it.

He was about to clamber back out of the craft when he felt something odd. A change in the air. A static charge that electrified the atmosphere in that cold cavern in an instant. He paused, then shrunk back, feeling the uncomfortable bristle of every single hair on his forearms standing to attention. This felt eerily familiar…

A dark mass slipped in through the cave mouth, its blackness visible even amidst the gloom of the night. Sheppard held his breath as it appeared to hesitate only a few yards away from him, hoping it hadn't seen or perhaps sensed him. Though it had no clear discernible shape or features, he got the distinct impression that it was looking at him. He braced himself, ready for fight or flight.

The shadow suddenly bolted away, deeper into the caves, leaving him momentarily frozen with surprise. Then, reinvigorated, he was after it, P-90 aimed and ready to fire. But before he could get to the first passageway it was gone, no sign of it left to pursue.

Sheppard faltered to a stop and listened, trying to pick up on any clue as to which route it had taken. There was no sound…no cries of alarm. Nothing.

Gun still aimed ahead and ready to fire, he inched his way back to his sleeping chamber, barely breathing as he inwardly prayed that Mehra and Jemma had come to no harm. As he reached the doorway, his flashlight shone straight into the open eyes of the young girl as she sat staring toward him. She barely blinked in response, only asking, 'Where were you going?'

'I…I needed some air,' he lied, lowering his weapon and stepping further into their chamber. He swept his eyes over her face, taking in her fixed expression, the rigidness of her jawline, the pallid complexion. 'Are you okay?'

'Yes,' was her curt response.

Mehra stirred now, disturbed by their conversation. 'Sir? What's up?'

'I need you up and helping me do a search. That shadow thing came back and it's in these caves somewhere.'

That snapped Mehra into instant alertness and she snatched up her jacket and weapon to follow him out as he passed.

'You…stay here,' he told Jemma.

For once, she made no protest, just stared at him with a blank, inscrutable gaze from her frost- grey eyes. He ignored the uneasy feeling her lack of reaction left him with and set out to do a sweep of the cave system, at least as far as they could without getting lost.

Cavern after cavern revealed no sign of their unwelcome trespasser. Sheppard got no sense of it; no remnant of the static charge hung in the air. But he'd seen it…hadn't he? To be honest, he was beginning to wonder now. He scanned as best he could without waking the sleeping Bisayans, a few of them stirring as the beam of his flashlight passed over them, but soon settling when darkness descended again.

With the last of the sleeping chambers checked, Sheppard took a moment to rest, leaning back against a craggy wall, and swiping at the sheen of sweat beading his forehead. 'I could have sworn I saw that thing…' he murmured. 'But surely someone would have seen or heard something.'

In the scant light of his P-90 flashlight, he could just about discern the worry lines scoring their way across Mehra's forehead. 'You okay, Sir? You don't look so hot.'

Interesting choice of words considering how he felt. His temperature was soaring he noticed as he swiped sweat from his forehead, his clothes now clinging uncomfortably to his damp skin. Yet he was shivering and cold through to his bones. 'I'm fine, Mehra. Don't worry about me.'

She gave him a grim smile and a feint nod, but she didn't seem to find any relief in his words. 'Maybe you're over-tired. It can get to you like that sometimes.'

'Yeah…that's probably it,' he agreed, scraping perspiration from his face again. 'It's been a tough few days.'

'That it has, Sir.' She kicked at the rough ground, scuffing the toe of her boot in the gritty dirt. 'Have you thought any more about sending Jemma to Balsandar?'

He allowed his head to fall back against the rock wall and let out a sigh. 'I've thought of little else,' he admitted. 'But she's scared…I think we have to take her with us for now and try to talk her round. Maybe in a week or so…when she's calmed down.'

'Yeah…maybe…' the sergeant grumbled.

'I know it's not ideal –'

'No…it's not,' she whispered sharply, pressing her lips together as if remembering her place and not wanting to speak out of turn to him. With a rueful shake of the head, she added a little more quietly, 'She's a liability, Sir. One we could do without.'

The sound of footsteps silenced them both, and they turned expecting to see Jemma heading their way. But it was Mishta. She cast a glance between the both of them. 'What are you doing up at this hour?'

'I could ask you the same question,' he pointed out.

'Someone shone a light in my eyes,' she pouted, planting her hands on her hips as she stared him down. 'That kind of thing tends to wake me up.'

Mehra, apparently having no desire to play gooseberry, had already begun to back away, making her excuses to get back to bed and leave them to it. He thought he caught a wink as she departed, but in the poor lighting it was hard to tell. The grin she flashed him was harder to miss.

'Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you. I thought I saw…' he shrugged. 'It doesn't matter what I thought I saw. I made a mistake.'

Mishta tilted her head as she looked at him, then pressed the back of her hand to his forehead. 'You're burning up. I have something for that. Wait here.'

She slipped quietly away, and he wrapped his arms around himself in a futile attempt to keep warm while she was gone, his whole body trembling. Only a minute or so later she returned with what he recognised as a medical case and a lantern, a blanket draped over the arm she held it in.

'Follow me,' she whispered, not even stopping as she passed him on her way to the bathing chamber.

The direction she took gave him pause, the memory of that morning bringing some welcome warmth to his cheeks. But he knew it would be futile to refuse…or perhaps he really didn't want to.

Mishta already had the box open and was searching through supplies when he reached her. He didn't have wonder why she'd chosen that as the spot to attend to him. There wasn't a single warmer room in the whole cave system.

She glanced up at him as he joined her, rising briefly to throw the blanket around his shoulders. 'I noticed you were shivering. It's warmer in here. You look like you're coming down with a fever, so I thought this place would help to warm you up.'

He sat down beside her as she returned to her medical kit, searching through a small handful of sachets before selecting one and tearing it open. 'Yeah…it's nice in here…thanks for thinking of this.'

She pulled a flask from her pocket and tipped the contents of the sachet into it before putting the lid on and giving it a vigorous shake. After she was satisfied that she'd abused it enough, she passed it to him. 'Here. Drink it all. It tastes bad, but if you take the whole drink it should bring your temperature down for a good while.'

After unscrewing the lid, he gave the flask a cautious sniff, recoiling at the acrid odour that seared his nostrils, imprinting itself on them. 'Uggh! I hope it tastes better than it smells.'

'It doesn't,' she replied, matter of fact. 'But the effect is worth it.'

Taking Mishta at her word, Sheppard gagged and choked the evil mix down in three goes, struggling to keep the final attempt down. Yet down it stayed, and after a few more seconds of attempted rebellion, the liquid settled heavily in his stomach. 'Jesus…you weren't kidding,' he grumbled, scrubbing at his lips to rid himself of any remnants of its awful flavour.

'Here…catch.'

He reacted just in time to snatch whatever Mishta had thrown his way from the air in front of his face. It was marble sized with a hard exterior, and an aroma reminiscent of aniseed. He quirked an eyebrow at her.

'Eat it. It will take away the taste of the medicine.'

It wasn't exactly his favourite thing, but he had to admit aniseed was a huge step up from the skunk spray he'd just ingested as he popped it onto his tongue and rolled it around his mouth, letting it dissolve and permeate his taste buds.

Mishta slipped one past her lips as she sealed them back in their container, then picked up the sachets again. 'I'll pack some of these in your supplies before you leave tomorrow,' she said softly, pulling some free from the larger collection. 'When the physician comes to check on me again, I'll ask her for more.'

'Don't forget to pack some of those other things too,' he added, pointing to the container she'd just stashed back inside the medical case.

Mishta huffed out a sad sort of laugh. 'I won't.'

He noticed she wasn't looking his way, but was instead spending an inordinate amount of time and focus on the supplies in the medical kit, shuffling and rearranging them for no clear reason. It struck him as odd.

'Sorry about waking you up,' he said again, trying to get her talking.

'You didn't really,' she assured him. 'I was already awake when you shone your light into my chamber.'

'Couldn't sleep either, huh?'

She gave a barely noticeable shrug in response.

'Still buzzing?'

That elicited a frown; apparently, she didn't understand his question.

'Too much of the enzyme still rattling round in your system?' he clarified.

'Oh…no…not really. The opposite, in fact.' She locked eyes with him for a brief moment. The sadness he saw there was like a knife in the heart. 'I'm tired, but…I have a lot on my mind.'

'Still worrying about our move tomorrow?' he ventured.

'Among other things,' she murmured, continuing to busy herself with rearranging the medical kit even though she'd done it several times already.

Frustrated, Sheppard caught hold of her hands and stopped her. 'Talk to me, Mishta.'

She hesitated, finally letting her gaze drift to his. 'I've already said everything I have to say. You have your life…I have mine. We were never meant to meet and…perhaps it would have been better if we hadn't.' She pulled her hands free, slammed the lid of the kit shut and scooped it up as she stood and looked down at him. 'Stay here and try to get some sleep. You have a big day ahead of you tomorrow.'

'Wait…that's it?' he asked as she walked away. 'You're not going to nag me about how I should stay here because I'm sick or something?'

She halted and turned, shoulders sagging as if carrying a heavy weight. 'No…you need your space away from us and I respect that. We have our ways and you have yours. Trying to please everyone just complicates things.' She paused, as if about to say more, then thought better of it. 'I'll see you in the morning.'

Sheppard watched her go, his heart sinking at the sight of her retreating form. She seemed…resigned. Resigned to the fact he was leaving, resigned to the fact their futures weren't intertwined, resigned to the fact that they were on two different paths and she wasn't going with him. Perhaps resigned to the fact that she couldn't go with him because he was on a journey he could only complete alone. And the fact she'd resigned herself so readily to those things after their earlier conversation scared him so much, he didn't sleep another wink.

A/N: Soooo, nothing to see here. Just an insane megalomaniac working his way towards ending the universe. Thanks to all of you sharing your thoughts with me. It's much appreciated.