Just thought I'd be a good little lustmuppet and say ta for the nice reviews; makes me feel all fuzzy inside!!! I hope you enjoy what's coming next because now the real fun begins!!! ;-D
Warning: This is where the fic starts getting a little...well a lot PG-13, in other words, let the whumping begin! Nothing overly graphic but there's the odd naughty word (but not harshly so).
Chapter 3
"Ma'am, we have a problem."
If the tension had been high a few moments ago, it was practically suffocating now. Weir felt the Nian ambassador Laric, suddenly stiffen and the tension radiating out of him. Ford's voice was calm and gave nothing away but his words held a sense of unease.
"Where's Major Sheppard?" It was the first question that popped into Weir's head, the last time Ford had been the one to make contact, Major Sheppard had nearly lost his life.
"That's part of the problem ma'am, both he and Dr. Beckett have been..." The young man paused, grasping for the right word without alarming Dr. Weir, "...arrested by the Nian authorities.
This time Weir did look at the ambassador, who spread his hands and smiled thinly. "Perhaps there has been some sort of misunderstanding."
"Indeed..." Before Weir could say more a new voice broke onto the line. There were noises like a scuffle in the background then quiet once more. Ford had not been silenced willingly.
"Dr. Weir this is Ariad, Chief of Nian Internal Security. May I have permission to speak with Ambassador Laric?" he paused for a moment, as if debating on whether to speak further, "In private."
The newcomer's voice alone was enough to set alarm bells ringing in Weir's head; the man was very obviously nervous. Laric merely smiled back with a practiced neutral expression and repeated his earlier statement. "I'm sure it has merely been a misunderstanding Dr. Weir, maybe if you would allow me to speak to the Security Chief in private I can straighten this matter out quickly."
"One moment ambassador, I would like to know where Major Sheppard and Dr. Beckett are being held."
"They have been taken into custody." The voice on the end of the line was becoming noticeably more nervous. Weir's stomach began to churn.
"Why are they being held separately? May I speak with them?"
"I'm afraid that's not possible at this time." The sentence was short, snapped out; he'd expected the question, he'd alsodeliberately ignored the first.
"And just why is that?"
There was no answer as Weir watched Laric's face closely. She'd already recognised that whatever the situation, it was affecting the ambassador, even frightening him. It made the man easier to read. As a trained negotiator Weir had been taught to read body language, to see the small physical signs that told you a person's feelings, even if their poker face did not. Laric was an alien from another planet but he was still human.
Giving in seemed like the best, in fact only option at the moment. "Very well. Peter transfer the communication to my office." The Asian man did as he was bid with a flourish of fast hands.
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The sun was high now; well into its zenith, but the foliage was thick and cast long deep shadows, painting patterns of sunlight that shifted softly with the breeze. The shade was small relief for the two men but it was something. Around them the forest was bursting with life seemingly unconcerned by two strangers trudging wearily into their midst. Birds chatted and squawked at each other, smallanimals scurried around in the undergrowth and insects buzzed annoyingly around the pair.
Sheppard swotted at a rather insistent bug for the umpteenth time, splattering the tiny creature against his cheek, 'oh ick' he mumbled childishly to himself. The stuff hiding out in the undergrowth didn't both him, but the insects were a different matter. Did he have sweet blood or something? He was like the bug version of an 'all you can eat buffet' and idly wondered just what sort offunky aliendisease they might carry. Though given a choice between the bugs and Beckett's incessant whining Sheppard would take the bugs any day. Even if he did understand it was the Scots way of coping it was really starting to piss him off. Between that, the headache and the unrelenting throbbing pain in his side John's substantial tolerance was beginning to fray at the edges.
Beckett jumped yet again and mumbled something. "Doc will you chill out." He almost begged.
"I'm sorry Major, but I'm a doctor no' a..."
"I know, I know, a soldier or military...whatever! Can the McKoy impression, it got old about an hour ago." Beckett blinked at him and looked a little hurt. Sheppard watched as the dilapidated man gulped and bite back whatever retort was half way to his lips.
"Ya know laddie, you might not want to spend so much time around Rodney."
Sheppard grinned; McKay was the king of snark. "I'll keep that in mind." He grinned again despite his foul mood and took a moment to get a good look at the doctor. So far Beckett had thrown up four times, it didn't take a genius to realise the man had a concussion.
Both men took a moment to rest, sweat trickling down their backs and faces. Beckett squirmed under Sheppard's scrutiny, it wasn't entirely different then a look he'd use on a patient and that was most definitely his job. Straightening his back a little the doctor clenched hands that had begun to tremble and tried to steady himself.
"I guess we should be off if we wan'ta get ta that bloody citybefore Christmas."
Beckett took about three steps before there was another, this time distinctive crack in the undergrowth. He'd had the feeling for sometime now of being watched, a prickly sensation sending chills up and down his spine.Sheppard's eyebrows rose by centimetres, crawling towards his hairline then quirkly dropped into a neutral expression.
"Come on doc, time to get moving." His tone was entirely too cheerful, unfortunately Beckett's brain didn't process the information before his mouth kicked into gear.
"Now don't tell me ya did'na hear that?"
"Hear what Doc?" This time Sheppard made a cutting hand single and turned to go, walking steadfastly away as his senses switched into high alert.
Maybe if Beckett had been feeling himself he would have realised what his friend was trying to say. "Oh so now I'm hearin' things? Theres something out there..." Beckett gestured wildly into the undergrowth, sparing a glance and gulping again as he stumbled after Sheppard.
Sheppard's tolerance reached its limits; grabbing Beckett by the sleeve he dragged the stunned man along with him. "You know you might as well go over there and yell 'coooooeeeeee come out, come out whoever you are."
"Ya believe me?"
"No, I'm deaf and humouring you."
"But why..."
"Because in case you haven't noticed, we're not in an ideal position to defend ourselves."
"Ya think they're...hostile?" Beckett gulped yet again. Not only was the doctor a bad liar but he'd be the worst poker player. Sheppard made a mental note to invite him to a game, assuming of course they got out of this alive anytime soon.
"Well nice people don't sneak around in bushes."
"They could be shy?"
As if on cue the subject of their conversation decided they'd been discovered and moved more openly in the shadows, flitting through the trees. High pitched whistling echoed out in its wake, moments later answered by more. The sound was eerie and made goose pimples breakout across Carson's skin; somehow he had a feeling this was not going to be fun.
"Get moving Doc; naughty or nice I'd like to meet our shadow in a more...accommodating spot."
Beckett didn't need anymore encouragement and hurriedly followed after the pilot. His eyes darted from side to side anxiously watching for sign of more movement, listening to the increasing sounds of pursuit from behind.
"Looks like our shadow has friends."
Beckett didn't answer; he was two busy putting one foot in front of the other and not falling on his face over a tree root. The major moved more easily, scanning his surroundings for cover or a defensible position. He didn't even see the piece of trip wire until it was too late.
The only warning Sheppard had was a distinctive click and turning on instinct, grabbed Beckett and hurled them both into the bushes. Half of his brain expected a bang but instead felt a rush of air as something large and solid swung past. Any other thought he might have had quickly exited his brainwhen Beckett's elbow connected solidly with his ribsas they hit the deck.
He grunted and tried to blink away the white spots dancing in front of his eyes. Beckett had gone silent, too busy watching the rather nasty looking contraption swing like a macabre pendulum back and forth across the path. Someone, no doubt their new friends, had taken a bloody huge log, added wooden spikes for effect and rigged the whole contraction so that when someone caught the trip wire, it would swing out and impale anything in its path. Pretty simple really; simple but deadly.
"Is that..." Beckett swallowed hard, not quite believing what he was seeing, "a booby trap?"
"Looks like one to me..."
"Awww crap."
"Uh huh." Was all Sheppard could manage.
More whistles echoed out, accompanied this time by howls of frustration. It sounded distinctively like someone was ticked their little toy hadn't worked. Beckett was on his feet in a flash, glancing around like he expected the bogey man to leap out. Sheppard joined him a bit more slowly, wincing and wondering if a 'bruised' just upgraded itself to 'cracked' rib.
"I think there are more of 'em."
"Well let's not stick around to count." Sheppard turned the stunned Scotsman and shoved him in the opposite direction of whoever was yelling.
Beckett didn't need much more encouragement and took off. They ran as fast as their legs would carry them, the undergrowth reaching out to trip or lash at clothes and faces.Carson finally slowed down to look back at the flagging major; his fear of being chased receding a little with distance. Sheppard caught up and despite his best efforts half collapsed against a tree clutching his side and fighting to drag in air.
"We need to find somewhere to hide; you're not doing those ribs any good running around."
"I don't think whoever's chasing us will have a better affect on my health."
"With all due respect son, I don't think you're in any condition..."
"Look, you can doctor all you want when we're safe." Sheppard pushed Beckett forward again but relented when the Scot offered his disapproving help.
The shorter man tucked his shoulder under the Major's and stumbled on a few paces before finding his stride. Grunting with the effort to half drag the taller man through the undergrowth, Beckett felt his heart pounding hard from effort and fear.
Sheppard stumbled over a root, dragging them both down at the same moment something embedded itself in the tree above. Carson started to scramble to his feet but fell back on his butt asthe pilotdragged him down again. They heard the whistle of more projectiles and another arrow lodged itself in the tree, inches from Beckett's head.
"Some how I don't think that's our welcoming committee."
"Oh crap." Beckett looked around in wide eyed terror. He was used to saving people's lives, not worrying about his own.
Rising to his knees, Sheppard held his breathe and glanced over the foliage for a moment. He spotted movement in the trees further back and to both sides.
"They're trying to out flank us, get moving."
Both men began to scramble as low and as fast as they could. Whoever was chasing them knew where they were and didn't seem concerned about staying hidden anymore. John listened to them call to each other; he didn't need to understand their words to get the meaning.
Grabbing Sheppard's arm againCarson tried to concentrate on helping the injured pilot and not the fear or pain from his head turning his stomach. John risked another glance above the foliage; up ahead the trees were thinning out sunlight breaking through the heavy canopy. To either side he could make out shadow shapes darting in and out of the trees but keeping their distance.
"Shit." He spat, sliding to a halt behind a fallen log.
They were being herded into a trap, pursuers on both sides and behind, leaving them only one place to go. Then the sound of rushing water carried on the breeze. The oldest trick in the book and he'd fallen right into it.
"What?" Beckett was really beginning to think he should have stayed on earth, gene or no bloody gene.
Sheppard didn't get a chance to answer as a body hurled itself into their hiding spot landing on Beckett's back. The doctor fell forward, pinned under his attacker's weight as it raised a wickedly spiked club. The club was making its downward arc when John launched himself at the creature and smashed a fist into its face.
The newcomer fell back, its strange mask of animal parts and leaves falling aside to show the painted face of a man. Sheppard scooped up the club as another appeared beside his fallen friend; carrying a primitive sword like blade and swung for his head.
He ducked under the blow and swung his appropriated club, smashing it into the man's back. Beckett watched in horror as the major dispatched the tribesman. The first was scrambling from the ground beside him, his bloodied face written with murderous intent. Before he could get much further Carson brought a large chunk of wood down on the back of its head.
"Thanks" Sheppard gasped, spinning round to find another painted man unconscious at the doctor's feet.
Beckett looked at the impromptu club in his hand and threw it away with disgust.John grinned at him for a moment only, the smile wiped away by a scream as he fell to his knees clutching his leg. Beckett felt his heart jump into his mouth as he scrambled to John's side.
"Ok, the hospitality around here sucks!"
A bloody arrow shaft was imbedded in the major's leg, Beckett automatically reached to check the wound but Sheppard brushed his hand aside. Trap or no trap there was only one way to go and he'd rather have something at his back then more of these critters attacking on all sides.
Without being offeredthe pilotgrabbed hold ofCarson for support and tried to will the doctor on towards the light, praying they wouldn't bump into anymore 'toys'. Out in the open they'd be sitting ducks, but at least they could see what was coming.
The sound of running water was getting louder; beginning like distant thunder, now it roared in their ears. Breaking through the edge of the forest the pairemerged onto a narrow rock ledge, running to either side along the tree line. The ledge ended a few metres from the trees and dropped vertically down to a fast moving river. Above the a waterfall cascaded over jagged rocks, the ledge almost half way up its side. A howl of triumph broke over the sound of rushing water, men emerging from both sides, more moving in the shadows behind.
"We're screwed." Sheppard cursed under this breath, echoing his team mate's personal mantra.
"You've definitely been spending too much time with McKay." Beckett joked almost choking on his own nervous laughter. He gave Sheppard a croaked, terrified grin and inched them both backward, skidding on the slick rocks.
More painted tribesmen emerged from the tree line on both sides; their howls almost a chilling warning. There was no need for stealth now; their prey trapped and unarmed.
"Well we could always jump." Sheppard pointed out, looking down at the raging water's beneath. "Beats being skewered and roasted."
"Ya think they're goin'ta eat us?" All colour drained from Beckett's face, it might have been funny if John wasn't serious.
"I don't think they plan on throwing us a welcoming party."
"So I guess this would'na be a good time to mention I canna swim?"
If it wouldn't have been so damn ridiculous, Sheppard would have slapped his head in disbelief. He was definitely going to have a word with Weir about some basic training for all base personnel. He wouldn't have taken half the expedition to Disney Land never mind another galaxy.
Instead he settled for sighing in exasperation and exchanging glares with the approaching locals. There were more then a dozen painted men on the ledge now, some carried bows, the rest rudimentary clubs and blades. They kept their distance as if waiting for enough numbers to rush the two men, but unwilling tosimply force the pair over the ledge. It seemed the locals wanted more from their visitors besides their deaths; a number of unpleasant possibilities came to mind.
Everything seemed to happen at once. Beckett raised a hand to wipe the sweat and spray from his eyes. Sheppard caught the movement out of his eye and almost warned the doctor not to move, but it was too late. With a sicken thud a roughly fletched shaft appeared in Beckett's chest. Sheppard met the doctor's shocked, almost disbelieving eyes and realised with horror that they were too close to the edge. Beckett began to topple backwards, dragging Sheppard helplessly with him.
To Be Continued...