"I've never worked on a Tok'ra before…"

Melony scowled, looking at the doctor that was in the process of cleaning out the slash on her hip – one that really hurt.

"You're not filling me with confidence…"

He looked up, startled, and gave her a slightly embarrassed smile.

"I know how to do it," he said. "I meant you're not any different from the others – not physically, anyways. Well, aside from the symbiote, of course."

"Of course…"

No need to be sarcastic

I'm not.

Yes, you are

No, I'm not.

Are

Are not.

And now you're being petulant

She scowled.

The young doctor saw the expression, and assumed it was aimed at him. And was quick to apologize, since the last person he wanted to offend was Mitchell, who was so far out of his realm of understanding that she might as well be made of solid oatmeal.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to-"

She saw the uncertainty in his expression and felt just a little guilty for being a jerk to him.

"No need to be, Lieutenant. It's fine." She looked down at her bare hip; the slash was from just above her knee and ran all the way up her thigh and across her hip. Red and raw, it would have been incredibly painful if not for the painkilling shot she'd been given – and Talon's help with what the medication didn't cover. "How is it?"

He looked down as well, turning his attention back to what he'd been doing.

"There were pieces of your pant leg in the wound, but I've cleaned that out – as well as some particles of dirt or dust. It looks pretty clean."

"Good."

"Should I stitch it?"

Talon?

Definitely. I'm not going to be able to keep the skin together while I heal it without some help – the wounds are too deep. Same for your shoulder

Melony made a wry face, but nodded.

"Talon says yes – all of them."

He nodded, started to say something, but then visibly decided not to.

"It'll take a while…"

"Better get started then."

"Yes, ma'am."

Melony sighed. Where was Carson when she really wanted him?

OOOOOOOOO

"That's a nasty bugger…"

All the medical staff in the operating room stopped what they were doing to take a look at the device that Carson Beckett was holding up with a pair of forceps. It was covered with blood and a few scraps of flesh that had needed to be cut out with it, but he had all of it – and it was impressive. If you were interested in that kind of thing.

"Is it still active?" one of the nurses asked, looking a little nervous. They hadn't really heard the official version of what it was, but the scuttlebutt was that it was Wraith – and that the man who was lying on their operating table was to be taken to a secured recovery room once they were finished working on him. Which meant that the powers that be weren't so certain that he could be trusted.

Carson shrugged, tossing the device into a metal pan.

"I don't know." He was a doctor, not Mr. Goodwrench. "Take that to Doctor Weir," he said to one of the corpsmen. "She'll know what to do with it."

He didn't, anyways.

"Yes, sir."

The corpsman left, and Beckett looked back down at the man on his table.

"Let's close this up and then take care of the gashes."

Removing the device had been the quick part. Finding, cleaning and closing all the wounds on his patient was going to take a bit longer.

OOOOOOOOOO

"So he's not from the planet?" Weir asked.

Sheppard shook his head.

"He's from some other world – one that was attacked by the Wraith several years ago. He was captured, tagged with that thing I was telling you about, and then released so the Wraith could track him down again."

Weir frowned.

"I don't understand… why would the Wraith do something like that?"

Sheppard shrugged.

"Because they're not nice?"

She frowned, but before she could say something else, Teyla spoke up.

"He is not the only Runner," the Athosian said, from her spot next to Teal'c. "There have always been rumors of people being captured and implanted with these devices – although I have never before met one. Or anyone who has."

A knock on the door interrupted them, and one of Doctor Beckett's corpsmen appeared at the door, a small metal pan in his hand and his surgical scrubs showing evidence that he had just come from surgery.

"Excuse me, Doctor Weir, Doctor Beckett wanted me to deliver this to you."

She took the pan and looked in it, frowning.

"Is this the device from Ronon Dex?"

"Yes, ma'am."

Teal'c and the others craned for a look.

"It's awfully… bloody."

The corpsman nodded.

"We weren't sure if it would short it out if we cleaned it up, so Doctor Beckett decided to just send it as is."

"What are we supposed to do with it?" Sheppard asked.

The corpsman shrugged.

"I was told to bring it to you, that's all…"

Weir nodded.

"Thank you, Airman."

The man nodded and left; glad to be rid of the thing.

"We do not want to deactivate it," Teal'c said. "Colonel Mitchell wishes to use it to draw any other Wraith into traps."

"We can't have them converging here on Atlantis, though," Weir replied.

"So put it in that tub of rocks that McKay brought back from the lava base before we blew it up," Sheppard suggested.

It was hardly a secret that Rodney had wanted to find out what made the lava in the lava base impervious to scanners, probes and other devices. In the lab that he'd pretty much claimed as his own, there was a large container filled with lava samples. With room for one little device to be settled somewhere in the middle of those very rocks.

Weir nodded, understanding immediately. She handed the pan to Sheppard.

"You might put it in a baggy or something before you do, though, Colonel…"

John frowned, looking down at the thing. When did he volunteer to do it?

Weir smiled, waiting for him to argue – and well aware of the fact that she'd win. He scowled; she would win.

"I'll do that…"

"Good. We'll meet again as soon as Carson has something to tell us."