Elizabeth was liking this less and less, not that she cared much for it in the first place. The sounds of gunfire pinpointed her destination, and she turned the corner only to run smack into Rodney's broad frame. Her face was inches from his, and seeing his vivid eyes so up close took her by surprise. She hurriedly stepped back as Rodney muttered an apology, then gripped her arm and pushed her around the corner. "Bugs," he said simply, "we can't even get in there."

Elizabeth tried to peek around. "Dr. Beckett? His staff?"

Held her back. "Pinned down, I guess. No one's gone in or out." His face was drawn with worry, and he jerked back at Sheppard's yell.

The colonel flew around the corner and right into them. His left arm flung out to press them back against the wall, his right hand firing his weapon at the insects that suddenly clicked into view. Rodney pulled Elizabeth to him, and she let him, trying to melt away from the sight before her as five more large creatures legged their way across the floor, waving their mandibles and rising on their hind legs threateningly. A shriek pierced the air, and they exploded as gunfire rang out.

Elizabeth had her face buried in Rodney's shirt, and she felt both his arms around her as he turned her away from the sight. His breathing was loud in her ear as he crouched over her. The sounds stopped, and they slowly unfolded themselves.

"Well. Cleanup on aisle nine," Rodney said weakly.

Sheppard grabbed Elizabeth by the arm, looking over the both of them. "You two okay?" He was already backing away, toward the infirmary door. Elizabeth merely nodded, pushing past him and rushing inside.

She promptly ran back out, and vomited.

Rodney wasted no time pushing past and into the infirmary. Nurses and patients were on the floor, covered in blood, some holding their heads and crying. He stopped in the middle of the room, fighting down his acute nausea. A hand found his shoulder, and he spun, catching Carson Beckett as he fell to the floor. "Carson! Carson?"

"Rodney." The poor man looked like he was about to pass out from shock.

Rodney held him, scanning the room desperately for someone who wasn't already tending to wounded. "Okay. Hang on, what hurts? Are you okay?" He carefully lay the doctor on his back, noticing blood on his chest. Cursing, he ripped open his friend's shirt and shuffled to the nearest cart for gauze. "What the hell?"

"No . . .it was from that." He pointed weakly to a glass case, or what remained of one. "I was beside it when it shattered."

"Crap." Rodney instantly stopped applying pressure and leaned in, looking for fragments of glass embedded in the man's chest. "Crap, crap, crap. I'm not a fucking nurse."

"Rodney, it's okay." Carson gripped his arm, his quick breathing belying his reassurance.

"I don't think so." Rodney stood right as Elizabeth was able to re-enter. He waved her over, and she bent over the shocked man. Rodney stepped back as motherly concern pushed him aside, and backed into John.

"He okay?" John was watching over Rodney's shoulder.

"Better if we get out of the way, I bet."

"Colonel," a soldier Rodney hadn't seen before rushed in, took a startled glance around, and swallowed. "We've got more reports coming in . . ."

"Got it. McKay?"

"Go. I want to make sure Carson's okay."

John nodded and signaled to his men. Five followed him out into the corridor.

Soldiers were sent out in force to locate any and all bugs. Special barriers were rigged, sealing off sections of the city and acting as a large containment field. The gateroom was protected by such a field, as well as a makeshift infirmary. Teams ventured out in shifts, and to Burns' dismay, shot down any bug within sight.

His own sample was inconclusive. He had indeed put a report on McKay's desk, one hour later, that had said as much. The insect creatures were very much like a cockroach. They had hard shells and a not-so-soft underbelly. They had mandibles, and no visible eyes. Their legs looked like large saws, and the largest specimens weighed over two hundred pounds. Fortunately, only three of that particular variety had been found. Some were in the twenty to thirty pound range, with most averaging twelve.

It was unnerving, to say the least. Almost as unnerving as the unsatisfied stares that cornered him from the large table where Dr. Weir and various science teams sat.

Burns concluded his presentation and looked at the faces around him. They mirrored his disgust. "So," he said, "I can't really say these creature have any use, but to be honest I just can't see killing all of them."

"Even after what happened in the infirmary?" Weir asked.

"Even then."

"I bet you set spiders free outside, don't you?" Rodney sneered, clicking his pen annoyingly.

"There are no spiders on Atlantis, Dr. McKay."

"Still, I bet you do it."

Burns merely raised his brows. "Maybe."

"Great. People, meet Doctor Doolittle of the Pegasus Galaxy. Why don't you try talking just to them and see what they want?" Rodney snorted and turned away.

"That's enough, gentlemen," Elizabeth said. She turned to Sheppard. "What's the current count?"

"Seventy-five shot," he responded. "More around each corner."

"Where are they coming from?" Weir asked the assembled group in general.

Rodney leaned forward, fingering his papers. The fact that he bothered to bring any was testament to his own distraction; he rarely used notes. "Well, we can rule out the water system. They'd clog the pumps, for one, and for two there is no way possible they can get into the filtration system without causing significant damage, which hasn't been detected. Best I can figure at this point, somehow we brought the eggs on board, and they're hatching."

Elizabeth winced. "So ultimately we have no idea how many we are dealing with."

"Not really, no." He looked at Burns.

"I need a pod, or egg, or whatever these things hatch from. I can analyze it and determine the gestation cycle and go from there," he said.

"So, we need to hunt for a sample." Elizabeth looked at John, hating to ask him.

He sighed heavily. "Got it."