(I love you all to pieces, I really do!)
FAILURE TO COMMUNICATE
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR: TAKING IN THE SIGHTS
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"Sir," Stackhouse hissed, pointing out the front of the jumper.
"I see them," Lorne replied, lowering their trajectory over the sprawling medieval like city.
Down below, a massive crowd of people, perhaps close to a couple thousand strong, were parading thickly up a wide street towards the Citadel. Near the front, thronged on all sides, were about thirty guardsmen on those horned horses, and in the middle of them…were Sheppard, Weir, Teyla, Ronon and Travis. Sheppard and Weir were sharing a horse, but the other three were riding single. Coming up behind them was a cart carrying what looked surprisingly like a motorcycle.
They were moving very slowly, their horses forced to dance a step back for every few steps forward. The boisterous crowd was keeping them at a snail's pace and, surprisingly, it looked like the Atlantians were enjoying themselves. They were even waving. If it wasn't for the blood and dirt on their clothes, and the way Ronon Dex looked like he was about to fall off, he'd think they were being welcomed as heroes.
"Sir?" Dunne said, his voice soft. He was pointing up at the Citadel, in particular at the roof on the top floor where a half dozen guards were staring down at the goings on below.
"Oh, for the love of God," Beckett exhaled, stepping up next to the young soldier. In the back, Greene and Johnson continued to monitor McKay, who appeared stable for now, but both turned their heads to the front at Beckett's soft exclamation. "Tell me that's not what I think it is."
"Gallows," Lorne affirmed, "With five nooses. They're going to hang them when they get up there."
"Brilliant," Beckett muttered dryly.
"Can we land on that roof?" Stackhouse asked, trying to judge its size. "If we can take out those guards after they bring our people up…."
"It's not big enough," Lorne stated. "I'm thinking more than six guards will be up there when they reach that stage, including whomever's in charge here, and I'm not about to land on people, even if that roof were strong enough. But," he tilted his head, "I could get close. If I got alongside, maybe…but they'd see us coming the moment we opened the rear hatch and stepped out, and, even if they can't see the ship, one lucky shot from their rifles into the interior…." He studied it for a moment, obviously working out scenarios in his head, then looked back down at the "parade." His face got darker as he considered everything that might go wrong. After a moment, he looked over at Stackhouse, "How long would you estimate it will take them to get all the way up there?"
"Fifteen, twenty minutes, tops," Stackhouse said. "Maybe less if they institute some crowd control….which looks like they might soon." They could see the guardsmen getting more and more frustrated with the people, some physically turning and using their horses to push some of them down.
Lorne nodded, "That's what I thought." He reached over and hit the ship to ship communications link. "Daedalus, this is Jumper One, do you copy?"
A slight pause, then, clearly, "Jumper One, this is Daedalus. We're reading you loud and clear. What's your status?" Caldwell sounded much too calm for someone racing to the rescue.
"We've located all of the members of SGA-1 as well as Doctors Weir and Travis, sir. Doctor McKay is with us here in the jumper, but he is badly hurt."
"That's an understatement," Beckett muttered. Lorne gave him a exasperated look, then continued.
"The rest of our people are under guard in the main city on this planet. We've spotted them being paraded up through the main city to the Citadel, probably to the roof, where a set of gallows has been set up."
There was another pause on the line, then, "Gallows, Major? Did you just say gallows? Are you telling me our people are being taken up to that Citadel to be hanged?"
"Yes, sir, that's what I'm saying. I'd like to add sir, that they are placed in such a way that most everyone in the city looking up will be able to see the execution." He sneered, not hiding what he thought about public executions, but then, this wasn't his world.
The pause was longer this time, then Caldwell's voice came back as cold and as hard as ever, "Can you cleanly extricate our people on your own, Major?"
"Not at the moment sir. There are too many people around. However, we may have some luck once they are on the roof of the structure."
"You mean, when they are about to be hanged, Major."
Lorne grimaced, "Yes, sir."
The pause extended a bit, then, "What is the timing, Major?"
"We estimate they will be before the gallows in one-five minutes, Colonel, perhaps less."
"I see," Caldwell replied, "We are thirty minutes away still, Major, but it would obviously be helpful if we were there. You say there are crowds of people around—I assume many of those people are civilians?"
"Affirmative, sir."
They heard Caldwell sigh, a strange sound over the link. "Major, can you create a distraction without giving yourself away or alerting the military there to your presence? Something to give us time to get there and help you out?"
"Sir," Dunne said, pointing down at something near the base of the Citadel, next to a broad courtyard adjacent to what looked like the kitchens. The boy gave a sly smile, "That might work."
Lorne followed his line of sight, then smiled. "Colonel Caldwell," he said, "I think we may have an effective distraction."
"Then do it, Major. Report when you've finished. We'll be there soon. Caldwell out."
Lorne hit the link cutting their communication with the Daedalus. "Okay," he said, looking back at Dunne then over at Stackhouse. "You think you can do this?"
The two young soldiers just grinned wickedly.
Beckett gave a soft sigh. "Just watch your toes, boys," he warned as Lorne turned the ship towards the large kitchen courtyard Dunne had pointed out. "Don't want to mend any crushed feet."
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On the ground, Sheppard looked up for a brief moment, thinking possibly, just possibly, he might have heard the faint whine of a jumper. He didn't see anything in the sky, but something felt different to him.
But was that possible? How could they even know?
Sheppard looked down at the radio that was still stuffed inside his vest on his shoulder. The temptation to use it was strong, but, the moment he did, he knew the guards would be alerted to its presence. They'd been ignoring it up until now, knowing it was not a weapon, but if he tried to use it….
The hand he'd been waving, and which had drifted to his shoulder turn on the radio, returned to waving.
Someone yelled another infantile question, and, this time, Teyla was the one who quipped back an answer, and the crowd erupted once more in laughter.
Sheppard couldn't resist a small smile of pride.
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Commander Chanee was furious, stomping up and down the plush carpet in the high room overlooking the city, beyond angry at the procession he could see down below.
"I want them up here now!"
"But, sir," the lieutenant serving him protested, "we can't order our guards to start attacking the people. Not with the King coming."
"But that's exactly the point," Chanee growled, turning to face the younger lieutenant, the folds of fat around his face quivering in anger. "The King is coming! And soon. Perhaps within the hour! I do not want those off-worlders alive when he gets here. This city will be under my control, all of it!"
The lieutenant lowered his eyes, knowing full well exactly why Chanee wanted to show his prowess over both the people of the valley and the off-worlders—because it would show the King he had the balls to be the Governor here and oversee the Gate and all it entailed. It was a bit of a Catch 22 for the King that he needed someone strong to guard the valley, but that often meant someone who, like former Governor Medved, might decide they want more than just the valley to control. Looking at Chanee…he saw the same lust for power as Medved had when the King replaced the last governor with him.
"What do you suggest, sir?" the lieutenant asked coolly. "That they start running people over with their meeners? Perhaps fire into the crowd?"
Chanee smiled coldly, "Yes, if necessary."
"So," the lieutenant looked up again, "is that an order, sir?"
"Yes, lieutenant," Chanee snarled, "it's an order."
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TBC...just five more to go! (this is 24 see, not 23...I doubled up two chapters somewhere back there in the beginning).And yes, Chanee is a bad, bad man...