Disclaimer: Stargate Atlantis is not mine, and no profits are made from this story. It is a work of fan fiction and for fan enjoyment only.

2: Reconnaissance

McKay groaned and clutched his arm. A low light filtered in through the glass, illuminating everything in shades of gray. Despite the netting and ropes, a number of the crates had come loose and splintered, spilling their contents haphazardly around the cabin. Carefully palpating a lump on his forearm, he flexed his fingers experimentally and decided that it wasn't broken.

"Is everybody all right?" Ford's voice filtered back from the copilot's seat.

"Depends on your definition," muttered McKay, struggling to a sitting position.

"Teyla?" Ford queried.

"I am bruised, but otherwise unharmed."

McKay suppressed a surge of jealousy; the woman never got hurt. He was becoming convinced that it might take nuclear weapons to seriously injure her.

"How are you and the Major?" she continued.

"I'll be fine, but Sheppard's out cold." Ford's fingers sought out and found his commander's carotid, and released the breath he didn't realize he was holding as it pulsed strong and steady. Standing on wobbly legs, he moved over to better assess the situation.

Major Sheppard was slumped forward over the control panel, right arm flung above his head, left dangling at his side. Easing him back in his chair, the Lieutenant frowned at the scorch marks and swelling around the man's face and eyes, as well as the mass he could see developing beneath a small, stellate laceration on his forehead. Glancing down at the main control panel, he grimly noted the charred remains of what used to be the pilot's console. It looked like something had overloaded and blown it out, right into Sheppard's face.

McKay and Teyla had come forward by this time. "Help me get him on the floor." Ford began maneuvering the unconscious man out of the seat.

"Do you think that's wise?" asked Rodney nervously. He hated situations that were out of his control, and this seemed about as 'out' as they got.

Ford pursed his lips. "I don't know, but it beats leaving him here." So saying, the three of them managed to get the man supine. Teyla wadded up a jacket for a makeshift pillow, and used another for a blanket.

"Is it me, or is it getting cold in here?" McKay shivered slightly to emphasize his point.

Teyla looked up from where she was settling in the injured soldier. "You are right, Doctor, it is."

Ford rose and headed for the forward console, noting that the muted light was in part due to the ice coating the front glass. He found the external sensors and breathed a sigh of relief to discover several of them still functional, although the visual scanners were not.

"Let me look." McKay shouldered past him and started flipping toggles. "Breathable atmosphere, some moisture available, plant life; outside temperature is about 25 degrees Fahrenheit, however. Livable, but cold."

"Could be worse," Ford murmured reflectively.

"Oh, and how do you figure that?" Rodney snapped irritably, digging out the emergency medical kit and blankets from behind the pilot's seat.

"It might've been hard vacuum." Ford reminded him of their recent experience of being lodged in the gate itself.

McKay paused, then began his rooting through the medical pack, handing appropriate items to Teyla. "Well, yes. At least this time we can expect a rescue."

Teyla looked up from where she was cleaning and bandaging the Major's face and flushing his eyes out with water. "How will they know where we are?"

"The ship has an automatic distress beacon. They should be able to pick it up as soon as they come through the gate." Thinking about it, Ford stood to make certain that it was functioning. "Damn it," he cursed under his breath.

Rodney was instantly alarmed. "What's wrong?" He rose and hurried over to where the young man was sorting through the debris of the main panel.

"The beacon is in the section of the console that fried upon landing."

"Aren't we back on Fortros? They will just search the planet until they find us." Teyla was quietly optimistic.

McKay had moved to examine the damaged panel himself. "No, I don't think so. The atmospheric components are different, and we didn't have time to make it all the way back there. My guess is that this is a habitable planet somewhere between the Gate and TL 635." He stated this rather blandly, as he was absorbed in assessing the destruction.

"The Major did say something about 'need a safe place to set down' right after we were hit with that meteorite. You know how the technology reads his mind; it probably showed him the closest inhabitable world, and he made a beeline for it." Ford had caught the diagrams out of the corner of his eye.

"Won't Atlantis figure that out and come for us?" McKay found Teyla's faith vaguely nauseating.

"Would you care to bet your life on that? Because I wouldn't." McKay had scrambled beneath the console and removed the access panel.

"See if you can get the beacon working; I'll go scout around outside." Ford automatically took charge.

McKay shot him a 'what do you think I'm doing, you idiot?' look, but didn't waste the breath to comment. Ford reclaimed his vest now that John was covered with an emergency blanket, checked his sidearm, and hit the hatch release. A blast of cold air hit them, cutting off as Ford closed the entrance from the outside.

Carefully walking the perimeter, Ford had to grin. OK, the landing may have been a little hard, but he had set down in the center of the proposed landing zone, and had landed flatly, thereby not further injuring the Jumper. Not too shabby, considering.

He paused when he reached the area of the meteorite strike; while the object that struck them was probably no larger than a pebble, the rent it made was jagged and almost 18 inches long, with curled, irregular edges. 'I wonder what we have on board to repair this?' He snorted; if he could get the Major to 'wonder' about it, a repair kit would likely materialize from thin air.

As he surveyed the landscape, he noted that the light had definitely increased in the few minutes he'd been outside. "Hmm...must be morning," he commented to himself. 'At least that means it'll get warmer rather than colder.' Examining the surrounding area revealed numerous trees, the sound of some insects, and the babbling of nearby running water. Weapon held at ready, he moved carefully towards the sound and was rewarded by finding a small brook just inside the treeline. 'Well, that solves one problem,' he thought, 'although it might have been fun to stay hydrated on that purplepeach wine...' At that he retraced his steps to the craft and keyed open the door.

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"All right, you have a go." Weir spoke over the intercom to the jumper bay, where Jumper Two impatiently waited. There had been no further contact, and Weir needed to discover what had happened to her team. Hopefully, it was nothing more than an equipment malfunction, but somehow she doubted it.

The wormhole established with a whoosh as the iris to the jumper bay opened above. However, the ship had not yet begun to descend when a projectile shot from the event horizon and impacted the console at the far side of the room, exploding in a shower of sparks. "Abort!" shouted the commander. "Shut down the gate!"

Words became actions almost instantaneously, and the gateway flicked out of existence. "All right, people, I want answers, and I want them yesterday." Weir was emphatic. "What just happened?"