UNDER GLASS
By NotTasha
A/N: Thank you so much for the reviews! I am addicted to them! You've been so kind
CHAPTER 7: HASH BROWNS
Teyla made one final tug on the knot of twisted cable as she clung from the balcony. At a familiar sound, she looked up to see the wormhole disengage and felt her stomach twist a little.
"Run!" Ronon shouted from across the street. Taking a second to ensure that the cable was as tight and secure as it could be, she jumped from her perch on the side of the building, just as Ronon dropped from the façade of the building that faced hers. They ran, ducking up the street as Gate began to dial in.
The Wraith were fast, Teyla confirmed as she ran. They were faster at dialing than she could have duplicated. Any doubts she had regarding their decision had faded as her feet ate up the ground, tearing down the road and out of the way. She ran beside Ronon reaching the last building in the row as the final chevrons engaged.
Ronon smashed down a door and they dove into the empty store. The sequence completed, and with a whoosh, a new wormhole formed
Hidden, Teyla looked out to face what they had constructed. When she gazed toward Ronon, she saw a self-satisfied grin. It would work, she decided. "Colonel," she called breathlessly into her radio. "They are coming and we are ready."
"Damn it!" their commander responded. "Do what you can to stop them! Just… you know, try to stay safe. That's all I'm askin'."
"We're on it," Ronon answered for her, just as the first dart came screaming through the opening. It didn't get far.
The pointy, terrifying flying machine, as expected, crashed through the remaining breakaway poles, throwing them helter-skelter, blocking the pilot's vision for a few seconds. He had no chance to see the cables stretched across the street in a crisscross pattern, no time to change his course, no time to swerve. The dart slammed full speed into the wires, and was instantly julienned.
The dart was sliced and diced like hash browns. Rent metal screamed. The strained cables exploded in a terrifying shriek, tearing apart the framework of the buildings that had anchored them, ripping the quickly applied knots. The violence vibrated through to the building Ronon and Teyla hunkered in, sending down decades of dust.
Hunks of dart, Wraith, storefronts and flailing cables burst everywhere – and directly into the path of the dart that followed on the coattails of the first. The second dart collided in the flying wreckage, flinging the dart upward just as the third came through.
The third pilot vainly attempted to avoid the chaos, angling to the left, only to plow into the ruins of the buildings opposite Ronon and Teyla. The dart shrieked, smashing through one building and then the next, and continuing forward, tearing apart wooden walls, floors and furniture, ripping off bits of itself, to exit finally, halfway down the street and plow into the ground with earthshaking force and an ear-ringing explosion.
The fourth dart to enter the catastrophe came directly behind the third and chose the opposite course of the proceeding craft. It immediately steered right and into the rest of the buildings. The pilot tried to escape the calamity, smashing through roofs to street-level, skimming the first building, to remain airborne for a moment or so as it cruised below the balconies, taking out support beams with a 'chunk…chunk… chunk' as it rode daringly above the wooden walkway. Behind it, balconies and upper floors collapsed, barely avoiding the escaping dart -- and sending Teyla and Ronon running for their lives.
The last dart almost made it through, but the wreckage of the second dart had reached the apex of its ascent and came screaming down through the woodwork of the little string of building, smashing through the balconies and obliterating the fourth dart below in a ground shaking explosion.
Within a few second of ear-shattering madness, the gyrations of the out-of-control craft had finished. A dozen buildings were razed, leaving only a smashed heap of metal, the creak of abused wood, thrashing wires, and an acrid smell. And, for a moment, it was quiet.
A rustle from the forest, and Ronon stood, stepping clear of the foliage. He smiled from ear to ear to see the terror he had wrought. "Always wanted to try that." He glanced to Teyla and saw her smile as well.
"That was," she paused, almost theatrically, before she completed with, "Impressive."
"Well," he said, heading toward the smoking ruin. "Better check to make sure they're all dead."
Teyla nodded, following. "We'd best hurry. They will come on foot now," she reminded, keeping her P90 ready.
"After this?" Ronon responded. "Won't be a problem."
"The darts?" John asked anxiously.
"Dispatched," Teyla responded.
Sheppard glanced to Rodney in surprise, but the scientist was busy at his computer and probably didn't hear. "How?"
"Cut them up into little bits," Ronon explained.
"Okay, you're gonna have to tell me a bit more here," Sheppard responded, frustrated.
"There is no time to explain it all," Teyla responded. "It was extraordinary."
"They didn't know what hit 'em," Ronon added.
Sheppard asked, "And has the wormhole shut down?" He wearily leaned against one wall of the room.
"No," Teyla responded. "It has remained open."
"They're probably starting to wonder why no one ever calls home," Sheppard conjectured with a sigh. After a thought, he asked, "Teyla, do you think they can communicate mentally through the wormhole? You know, they might have been able to get off an, 'oh shit'."
"It is believed they cannot," Teyla responded.
"Well, that's some good news."
"Have you been able to release the doors?" Teyla inquired, hesitantly.
"Rodney's working on it," Sheppard returned, watching as McKay continued to poke about with his computer.
McKay paused, his hand forming into a spider over the board. Then, he shook his head in irritation and tried again.
"He'll get it," John declared.
There was a pause, and Ronon announced, "They're coming through."
Sheppard tightened his grip on his P90. "How many?"
Teyla stated in a whisper, "I have seen seven emerge -- five drones and two male. The connection has closed behind them." Shots were fired. "They have taken refuge in the wreckage of the darts." Another pause and more shots. "We are having difficulty."
"Fall back," Sheppard ordered.
After a hesitation, Ronon stated, "I have an idea."
"What? What are you guys doing?"
Another moment, and he replied with, "Tell you later."
Annoyed with the response, John realized that they were too damn busy to explain. It didn't improve his frustration. He turned to the alcove to find Rodney slumped further. McKay's eyes were open, but the lids were drooping dangerously, as he pecked listlessly at his computer. Then he stilled, his hands just coming to an unnatural rest.
John felt his heart constrict, and forcefully, he kicked against the door just beside McKay's head. "Wake up!" he called sharply.
Rodney startled, his head coming up abruptly. For a second or two he was lost, until he seemed to remember and glared at Sheppard. "Hell of a way…"
"No time for naps!" Sheppard told him.
"Nap, well yes, I could definitely use one about now," he griped, rubbing his forehead. "That and some OXYGEN! And a little room," he said with a sad whine. " All I ask is a little more room – and oxygen."
"McKay, you can't stop now. Please, for Christ's sake."
"Air – that's all I'm askin'." Rodney went back to prodding at the display, muttering under his breath as he drew in air that was getting thinner. His brow furrowed as his eyes fastened on the readouts.
Sheppard stared at the control panel. "Wish we could use the transporter," he mumbled.
"Well, if wishes were horses, beggars would get blown up in a giant fireball and rendered into little bite-sized bits when it all went to hell," McKay grumbled. "For all we know, matter that's transported through this thing will end up as little blobs of jam at the other end. I trust that control panel about as far as I can spit – which – pathetically – isn't very far. But this…" and he cocked his head at the data-tablet's display. "This is something I can put my faith behind."
Sheppard peered through the transparent door at him, seeing the display. "You brought up the main control panel," he commented.
"Well, yes," McKay said with a proud smile, displaying the readout for Sheppard. On the display was an exact replica of the buttons and symbols on the control console. "I've tapped into their remote system. I was thinking that if I could mimic the control console through this connection, I could avoid what the Wraith installed in the real console to thwart us."
"Here's to no thwarting!" Sheppard grinned widely. "That's great news, McKay. Good dog, you deserve a biscuit."
The satisfied look fell, as McKay admitted, "It's just that… I can't get it to work. See?" He pointed at the dim display. "It's inactive." He poked, and poked again, his hand opening and clenching in frustration. "No good."
"You'll get it," Sheppard assured. "You got that far. The rest is a piece of cake."
"Yeah, cake," McKay muttered. He pressed a hand to his forehead, wincing. "I could use some cake right now. Cake would be nice. Or maybe something potato-y, like French fries, or tater tots or…" But his attention stayed on the screen and he kept working. "... twice baked potatoes, chips, crisps -- yeah, Pringles Cheez-ums."
Frustrated as hell, Sheppard paced. He kicked at the side of one of the console, and smacked an open palm against a wall. Damn it all to hell! At that moment, Ronon and Teyla were being chased down by Wraith while Rodney was slowly and surely suffocating before his eyes and talking listlessly of potato products.
John had never felt so helpless before. He glared at the control panels, furious as hell at the sons-of-bitches who had done this.
They needed some sort of plan. Any old plan would do.
Teyla and Ronon ran, climbing in elevation, using the cover of trees to hide them, trying to get to higher ground – above their adversaries. Ronon turned, blasting away at their pursuers. The Wraith followed, seemingly unable to tire, intent on only one thing – destroying them.
Ronon kept moving, Teyla beside him. They tore over the ground, smashing down the heather-like weeds that grew everywhere. The tenacious growth took the abuse, showing them what true obstinacy was by continuing to cling to the rocks in spite of them.
He knew that they'd be out of the trees soon and onto the rocky cap of the hill – exposed. He glanced to the Athosian again, catching her gaze as they ran. He wanted to impart confidence.
The look that Teyla returned to him reflected her faith in him. He nodded as he ran. This would work, he promised himself, promised her, promised Sheppard and McKay. It had worked before – why not again?
Normally, the warrior wouldn't have considered this route – the hill was rocky and exposed at its top – the valley, on the other hand, was wooded, provided better cover, was easier terrain to cover in a hurry. But, Ronon's plan wasn't to return to the others just yet. He wasn't about to lead the predators to the door of their trapped companions.
They kept moving – ducking and dodging – ignoring the shadows that edged their vision. Things seemed to come at them – diving out of the darkness – but both had learned long ago that the Wraith played tricks. To Ronon, they were little more than glimpses of darkness -- easily ignored.
The Wraith would not reach their friends – of that Ronon was certain. If this idea didn't work, he would die to keep the creatures from coming any closer to that little hidden outpost. There was no doubt that Teyla would do the same.
Teyla reached a boulder and started to scramble over it. Ronon paused, covering her until her back was no longer exposed. When she turned to face him, he nodded and followed, slinging his weapon into his holster to use his hands. He turned his back on his foe. There was a time when he never would have performed such a vulnerable move – but he knew Teyla would not fail him. She fired twice into the woodland as he hoisted himself up – and then they were running again.
"Damn it," McKay swore. "It's countering me as soon as I nearly get it." His head bobbed tiredly. "It's just not fair!"
"Can the Wraith tech learn what you're up to and stop you from opening the door?" Sheppard asked and glanced beneath the console at the creepy crap that covered the underside. It looked far too much like tendons and flesh.
McKay drew in another breath and laid a hand over his eyes. "I don't know. Maybe something is just blocking me. If I could just power down the control panel, but… I -- I just can't think straight anymore. I …" and he paused to breath deeply again, rubbing his temples distractedly. "I don't know." And he pulled his hand from his pale face, looking frightened and unsure. "I think… I'm .. I'm really running out of oxygen."
"You still got time," Sheppard reminded him, making a point to not look at his watch.
Rodney let the computer rest in his lap as he fumbled in his pack, frantic until he found his scanner. Clumsily, he pulled it free and panted through his teeth as he examined the readings. Without saying anything he let the device fall back into his pack. For a moment he simply breathed, his eyes seeking, as if following the thoughts in his mind. "I hate small places," he squeaked out as he rearranged the data-tablet. "I've always hated small places. Got a damn fine reason for it now."
Sheppard encouraged, "You'll find a way to get out of there. We can deal with your psychosis later."
With a nod, Rodney continued his determined poking away.
Sheppard stood on the other side of the door, leaning one shoulder against it. "You'll get it," he said confidently. He watched Rodney's movements, usually so fluid and frenetic, now reduced to subdued jabbing at the display as his whole body rocked with the effort of breathing. Sheppard closed his eyes for a moment in misery.
How could this be happening? Was he just supposed to stand around doing nothing as his teammates were taken from him?
Sheppard keyed his radio again. "Teyla? Ronon?"
Ronon answered, "We're kinda busy."
"What's happening? Where's Teyla?"
"She's with me. Think she lost her earpiece." A Wraith stunner went off near Ronon's position. "Gotta move!"
"Ronon! What's the plan?"
"Right now?" Further sound of gunfire and stunners. "Kill 'em. Don't let them kill us."
Sheppard listened to the sound of running, their heavy breathing as they raced.
"Keep me informed," Sheppard commanded, and turned off the mic, hoping that Ronon's plan worked – whatever the hell it was. His gaze remained on McKay, who struggled.
"You'll find a way," Sheppard assured softly, putting his faith in that statement.
TBC - Well, we'll see