Chapter Four
Sheppard let loose a great sigh as he and Ford made their way towards the Nesting Grounds. Earlier, he hadn't noticed how far it was, perhaps because of the Market being in the vicinity and the circumstances. He appreciated the scenery as much as the next guy-the trees were even taller than the great Redwoods-but having to trek through it when he was in a hurry only served to irritate him.
"Kinda reminds of the one time I went on a mission with SG-1, sir," Ford remarked after the fifth sigh.
"Oh?" Sheppard asked, not really interested, but needing something to occupy his time, "Why's that?"
"Well, General O'Neill-he was still a colonel at the time-kept doing the same thing you're doing," the young lieutenant paused for a moment to concentrate on stepping over the large log that was lying in their way, "He kept muttering about how boring trees were, and why couldn't the planets ever have anything remotely exciting or even different."
Sheppard shrugged. "I'm guessing it was a standard recon mission. Those can get pretty boring."
"Actually, Doctor Jackson had been kidnapped by a weird alien princess and the team I was assigned to-SG-8-was providing back-up for SG-1."
"Oh." There didn't seem to be anything else to say at that point, so they continued a few paces in silence. Then, Sheppard asked, "So, General O'Neill's a pretty weird guy, huh?"
Ford looked thoughtful for a minute, then shrugged. "Yeah, I guess so. He's not your ordinary soldier, that's for sure. But then again, neither are you. No offense, sir."
"None taken."
When they finally arrived at the Nesting Grounds, Sheppard frowned at the scene before him. Every last body had been cleared away, and the broken nests that had littered the ground were gone as well. There didn't appear to be any sign of the massacre that had occurred. "This…is not good."
Ford whistled. "You're not kidding, sir. How'd they get this done so fast?"
"I don't know," Sheppard answered absently, "But I have another question that's been bothering me."
"Yes, sir?"
"Why don't they move the Nesting Grounds like they do the Market?" Sheppard began pacing, "I mean, the whole point is so the Wraith don't have as great a chance at slaughter, or culling or whatever it is they do. Those griffons were the size of a small pick-up. Surely their life energy is just as appeasing? If not more?"
Then he shook his head and turned around. "C'mon, Lieutenant, let's get everyone back to Atlantis. Something very definitely does not smell right here."
Teyla walked slowly through the Market, a frown deepening on her brow. Something was not right, though she couldn't put her finger on it. The people, some of whom she had met once or twice, were ignoring her. Worse, they were pointedly ignoring her-refusing to meet her gaze, looking stonily in the other direction among other signs. This had never happened on Telosia, and she was certain Kallen had something to do with this.
With a frustrated sigh, she gave up looking for a familiar face that she knew would give her words just as much weight as Kallen's. There were none she could trust. A sick feeling entered her stomach at the thought. As leader of a band of nomads, learning to trust was something ingrained. To know that such trust could be broken so easily was disheartening.
She made her way back to the point where she had left Doctor McKay, and noted with irritation that he was not there. Not that she could blame him. He was an excitable sort, much like a child in some ways, and didn't seem to be able to sit still for any length of time that didn't involve eating. Even then, she had noticed he would move around. Still, she was annoyed at the fact that he wasn't there and that she would now have to look for him.
Then she looked around. Something was off from before. She walked a little ways forward and frowned. On the ground were signs that a largish tent had been here not too long ago, along with those strange sled marks Major Sheppard had described and one of the radios the Earth people used for communication. Nearby was a dark red stain on the ground.
Teyla picked up the radio and clicked the button. "Major Sheppard, this is Teyla," she said into it.
Sheppard here, a tinny voice answered, What's up?
"There has been trouble. I do not know what kind, but I believe McKay has been injured."
There was a long silence before the radio crackled to life again. What do you mean, believe he's been injured?
Teyla bit her lip before continuing, "I left him at the edge of the Market, and when I returned just now I found this radio, and a blood colored stain on the ground. There are those sled marks you mentioned before."
You left him alone? Sheppard's voice sounded almost angry.
Teyla bristled, "I believed it would be better for negotiations that someone the people knew met them first, without strangers. I did not know this would happen."
I know, I'm sorry Teyla. This has just been one weird day. Meet us back at the 'gate. Sheppard out.
Teyla nodded, event though she knew he couldn't see, and began walking in the direction of the stargate.
Everything was dark and his head hurt. For a moment, he panicked and started hyperventilating. Then, he remembered. The Wolverine wouldn't be such a big baby. The X-man wasn't scared of anything. Heartened by thoughts of his hero, Rodney took one long breath and exhaled. He would be just like Wolverine.
So deciding, Rodney sniffed at the air. He couldn't really smell anything except grass and some kind of musty animal scent. However, he let out a low growl, just like Wolverine would have, and demanded, "Who's there, bub?"
The only answer he got was a cheeping noise, like some kind of bird. He blinked, trying to get his eyes to adjust to the darkness, but it was too dark. Losing the persona momentarily, he said in a softer voice, "Hello?"
Again, the slight chirruping noise met his ears and he smiled. "C'mon, I won't hurt you." He felt something soft brush against his hand and he reached out to touch it. Only to practically yank it back when he realized just how big the chick was. Then he shook his head. Kriss was always telling him how big a baby he was, just because he was five and she was nine. Well, he'd show her. He bet she'd never pet a big bird thing that she couldn't see.
With determination he reached out and touched the soft feathers of the creature. It purred. Rodney giggled. He'd never heard a bird purr before. Then, as he pet it, he realized that it also had fur. "What are you?" he asked. The creature just purred louder and snuggled into his body. It wasn't as big as he had thought at first, only about the size of a puppy. He had always wanted one.
"Mummy and Daddy probably aren't going to let me keep you," he said sadly, "but since I'm lost, and you're lost, we'll keep each other company. Okay?" Rodney smiled when the creature cheeped in agreement. "My name's Rodney. What's yours? Cheep? Nah. How 'bout Furzzy. Yeah. I like it. Furzzy." Furzzy must have liked it too because it didn't make another sound.