"So we don't know what these things are?" Elizabeth was backed as far into the corner of her office as she could get. If her back were wedged-shaped, it would be a comfortable fit into the corner, but as it was she had to make do with pressing her lithe form into a nook not suited for it. The bug on her desk was very large, and very intent on staring her down. Its antennae waved at her; each thick, black line drawing a circumference of the room. Long crisp wings were folded against its back. It looked for all the world like one huge cockroach. The way it had skittered onto her desk showed that she would never make it to the door without it attaching itself to her leg in a blink of an eye.
"That would be a bug," Sheppard remarked casually from her door. He was doing his best to hide his own terror. He hated bugs. Hated them. He'd heard her shriek from the hall and blazed a trail to her office through the people that were trying to get there first. The sight in her office had three going for help, running to the biology labs below. Four others stood back and grimaced, while two ran off to confront their own fears. Sheppard was torn between running to the labs or racing off to relieve himself, but he couldn't just leave the poor woman standing there.
Elizabeth was trying her hardest not to panic. "I don't usually have a problem with bugs," she said as calmly as she could, "but they're not usually the size of small domesticated animals."
"I'd say this would qualify as a large domesticated animal," Sheppard said, wincing at the creature. About the size of a, well, it was hard to say exactly, being that the bug was relatively flat. A large terrier, perhaps? The wings suddenly flared out in a black film, and he increased his thought to "Mastiff. Definitely a mastiff."
"John?" She couldn't press back any farther.
"Right." He gestured for the others behind him to step back. "They'll just have to get a used sample downstairs." He whipped out his hand gun and fired.
The shriek pierced his ears, and he suddenly found himself on the floor, terrified cries behind him and a sharp shell above him, hard mandibles pressed to either side of his head as the insect grew before his eyes. The stench was organic, the crackling sounds it emitted were disturbing, and its weight increasing. His breath left him, he felt saw-like legs rub against him, saw the insect turn its head and regard him. A small explosion rocked the air and knocked the weight off, covering him in greyish-blue goo. That smell was worse, and it was all Sheppard could do not to roll over and vomit.
Elizabeth was instantly at his side, helping him up while trying to avoid the stench and guts. "John? Are you all right?" She touched him and pulled back at the same time.
"Been better." He coughed and sat up, eyeing the remains with disgust. "Please tell me that thing has a name, that it isn't toxic, and that there's only one."
"Actually," Biology Assistant Roger Roys pushed forward, "there's been several reports of them around the city. This is the largest specimen we've seen thus far." His small eyes beamed with excitement as he dipped towards the goo, holding a small vial. "What a beaut!"
"Glad to make your day." Sheppard stood with Elizabeth's help. "I guess we need to run a few scans, see if we're being invaded or something."
"Colonel Sheppard!" The voice over his radio was high-pitched, loud, and familiar. "I need you in the commissary with several of those big guns!" John registered the tone, and added panicked and sickened to the list.
He glanced down at the congealed mess drying on his shirt. "Lemme guess. Bugs?"
"About six of them. They're . . . really big."
"On my way."
The commissary was emptied of people, understandably. Rodney was pacing outside, wringing his hands, when Sheppard and his armada of men arrived. "It's about time." He grabbed Sheppard's arms, ready to jerk him into the room, then winced and sniffed while quickly backing away. "What the hell happened to you?"
"Let's just say their insides are less pleasant than their outsides."
"That would stand to reason. Yeah, just stand over there, okay? Thank you." He worried at his fingers, provoking a comment.
"You okay?"
"You ever see those shows where the happily dining couple finds a bug in their salad?"
"Yeah. . ."
"My salad arrived on the back of one."
"Not much for fast food delivery, huh?"
"Not in this case, no."
John reached for the P90 that Ronon handed to him. "You said six?"
"Yes."
"Big?"
"If you consider a volkswagen a big car, then yes. If you consider it a small car, then bigg-ish."
Sheppard frowned and peeked inside. "Volkswagens are pretty big, I mean, they're chunky and all."
"Oh please, don't say 'chunky'." Rodney paled and swallowed heavily.
Sheppard nodded to the men behind him, cued Ronon, and opened the door. What ensued was a lot of screeching, greyish-blue goo, and swearing. Rodney wisely stayed in the corridor.
When Sheppard exited, he looked the worse for wear. Ronon didn't have a splash on him. Rodney merely covered his nose and mouth and stepped aside. "Bio," Sheppard cued, "we have a few more for you."
The biology lab looked like any other lab in Atlantis, filled with computers and screens and too many people. John and Rodney pushed through the excited masses to find Dr. Raymond Burns sitting in a stool, a sample and a microscope to his right, and a large platter of goo to his left.
"Can't ever be a live sample, can it?" Burns said without looking up. He sighed and stuck his gloved finger into the goo.
"I don't know, perhaps you'd like to go roam the halls and find one," Rodney muttered, and turned as his shoulder was bumped. "Hello, standing here! Can't you see behind those rims?" The spectacled scientist gave Rodney a rude once over and kept walking.
"I may have to!" Burns turned an annoyed glare toward Sheppard. "How can I do my job if I can't get what I request?" He turned and glared at them, raising his index finger. "Simple request. Just one. Bring-in-a-live-sample."
"Where's Dr. Lind?" Rodney groused. "He's easier to deal with."
Burns pointed to his face. "See this? This represents a lack of humor."
"No, that represents a lack of brain cells."
"Live Sample," he enunciated, and rolled his chair to the microscope. "Isn't there some kind of stun gun in that insane arsenal you carry?"
"Tazers," Rodney said, snapping his fingers and looking at John. "That's it."
But John winced. "If you want a live sample that bad, I suppose we could try, but where are you planning on keeping it once we capture it?"
"We have a containment area already set up," Burns said, re-engrossed in his study. "Roger converted a crate."
John looked dubious. "Will it hold it?"
"One way to find out." He sent a pointed look to Sheppard, who had a bad feeling he was about to go on a bug search. "Oh, and while you're down here," Burns turned to McKay, "You see the conditions were are working under here, yes?"
"And?"
"I put in a requisition for one of the larger labs several weeks ago and have had no response. I assume you didn't show this to Dr Weir?"
Rodney bristled and rolled his shoulders back. "Oh, I don't know, I've kind of been busy what with the WRAITH threat and all!"
Burns met Rodney's inflamed gaze with one equally as tense. "I suggest, Dr. McKay, if you want an accurate study of these insects, you get us adequate space. Do I make myself clear?"
Burns was a fairly likable person, simply because he wasn't intimidated by anyone, especially not Dr. Rodney McKay. Rodney pulled himself up straight, clasping his hands importantly behind his back. Both glares fought for domination, and both won. "Fine," Rodney said. "But I want a report by the end of the day."
"You'll have one in an hour's time, if you leave now."
"Done."
"Live specimen, please Colonel."
Sheppard opened his mouth and turned to Rodney, but his supposed friend just smiled and clapped his shoulder. "Have fun."
"Thanks." The sarcasm was followed by a shake of the head, and the sound of ill muttering floating down the hall behind him. It wasn't until he rounded the corner that he heard the distant screams, and Beckett's voice over the comm.
The infirmary was swarmed.