39: Battle at the River

More running. Elsie was tired and filthy, and her weariness extended not just physically but mentally as well. She had been on the run in Blaskane, hunted by the Calsharans for the simple fact that she was the one who had escaped their ambush. And now she was alone again, this time in a forest in which her enemies roamed in their search for the intruders who had put an end to their special weapons facility. With John gone, perhaps even dead, Elsie had no other choice but to push on and hope she found her way to the train depot. And from there, she had no idea what she would do next. Presumably, she would be able to find and regroup with the others; Sergeant Tarasovna and Jonas Quinn and that alien, Aithris. They would have to tackle the trainyard together, as it was not likely to be unguarded. Most of the Calsharans stationed there would be out-and-about searching for them, but there would be a token presence left behind, especially as it was the one place left in this forest that presented the means to get back to Blaskane and, in turn, the outpost in which the makalvari had placed this world's stargate.

She had to survive this forest first. She had been barging through it for what felt like hours, although it had perhaps been little over twenty minutes since the explosion, the very one that had shaken the entire valley and obliterated a large tract of the forest. Smoke continued to plume out of the blast zone, thick black smoke that trailed off well above the surrounding hills and cliffs. Elsie moved as fast as the rough and overgrown terrain would allow her, and once again she slipped on an incline and landed on her backside, further coating her trousers with mud. Swearing, she lifted herself up and brushed off some of the mud with her dirty hands. After a moment, she pressed onwards, heading downhill in what she knew to be southwards, courtesy of her compass. She had a map of the region on her, drawn from aerial photographs Kav'rak had supplied prior to the mission; it was not so helpful, for the simple fact that Elsie was not one-hundred percent certain as to where she was in relation to the map. Still, she figured she was heading the right way.

It was five minutes later when she came to the crest of a stout, forested hill. The wilderness spread out below her, broken by a narrow river that cut through it from east to west. A sizeable clearing was ahead, muddy and littered with fallen trees and underbrush. From up here, she had an ample view of the southern region, all the way to the distant silver and grey shapes that formed the depot. Seeing it, she breathed a sigh of relief. However, the relief she felt was short-lived, as the sounds of voices brought her attention towards the riverbank, a good two-hundred metres downrange.

She ducked as soon as she saw what awaited her down there. Taking cover behind an old, decaying fallen tree trunk, she unslung her rifle and rested it upon the trunk itself. The telescopic sight allowed her a closer view of the scene below. Peering through it, she swore under her breath, her heart pounding. She recognized those spread out by the riverbank, on their knees with their hands behind their heads. Aithris was hard to miss, and the look on his face suggested that he was hating every second of being at the mercy of the lizards.

Calsharan soldiers were spread out near the riverbank and the immediate clearing. There had to be dozens of them, most clad in black armour, some helmeted, others wearing lighter sets that seemed to indicate they were of a more support/reconnaissance role. A Calsharan open-top staff car was parked nearby, with an armoured transport situated just across the river, overlooking the entire clearing. Elsie moved her scope across the team, where Natalia, Aithris, Jonas, Sha'Pek, Hur'Par and finally Kav'rak were accounted for. They had been disarmed and now had about half a dozen soldiers standing at their backs, weapons pointed at them. Aithris' face was visibly bruised, and a small trickle of blood was seeping from one corner of his mouth.

The Calsharan commander was there with them. Elsie knew right away he was the one in charge, judging from how he carried himself and from the uniform he wore. The silver trim across the shoulders indicated him as an officer of some standing, and he wore no helmet, only an armour vest. A pistol was clutched in one hand and he was pacing around the vulnerable team, barking at them in what sounded to be English, although from this distance Elsie could not make out the words.

She contemplated her options here, few as they were. Shooting the Calsharans, even the one in charge, would be at best a distraction. Seeing as how there were perhaps forty of them, even more, scattered across the clearing it would be a fairly useless distraction. She might be able to take out two, perhaps even three of them before they had her position. The problem there, however, was that they would likely dispose of their prisoners at the first sign of trouble. For the time being, they were alive and at gunpoint; she would not do anything to jeopardise the fragile balance. Even so, the team was on the verge of being executed anyway. Maybe the Calsharans would take a few of them alive, but from what she saw happening now, even that seemed unlikely.

All she could do was watch, powerless, finger floating over her rifle's trigger but no closer.


The ambush had come thick and fast, with the Calsharan soldiers practically pouring out of the forest. Aithris had gunned down a few, but their numbers were simply too great, and they moved in from all sides with a relentlessness that saw the team quickly surrounded. As much as Aithris would have preferred going out in a blaze of glory, he had taken one look at Natalia and realised that he could not doom her, or anyone else on the team for that matter, to the same fate. As the de facto leader of this group, he had other lives to take into account now. It was a responsibility he was not entirely used to, even more so as he had spent a few years wandering the galaxy on his own.

The Calsharans had been quick to disarm them. Aithris had received the brunt of their beating, with a few of their burlier regulars laying into him with their rifle butts and booted feet. Even now he was sore all over, his lip cut and bleeding, one eye socket bruised. On his knees by the riverside, Aithris kept a straight face, his anger contained for the time being.

Lieutenant Sha'Pek and Sergeant Hur'Par had been beaten around as well, although the blows had stopped when the Calsharan commander had appeared. Major Faron Dravesk was a tall, authoritative male in officer's garb, and he came upon the captive team with a malicious smirk on his dark, scaly features. His pale blue eyes carried a similar malice, and he paced about the group with one hand on the pistol at his waist holster. His other hand clasped a short, retractable baton he had pulled from a sheath on his belt, and he spun it about absently as he moved. His soldiers had spread out across the clearing, working to secure the perimeter and ensure no more surprise visitors were present. They even had one of their armoured troop transports parked across the river, the plasma cannon mounted on its rear being manned by one attentive soldier.

The team was surrounded, and the soldiers positioned behind them were no doubt there to serve as their executioners. Aithris tasted blood in his mouth then, and he welled it up with some saliva before he turned his head and spat it into the dirt. To his left was Natalia, and she appeared considerably more worried than he was. He cursed himself for having led them into this mess, for not having detected this enemy presence sooner. It was likely something that had been out of his control, but no amount of attempted self-reassurance made him feel any better about it.

"I see that the people of Earth have finally decided to take an active role in this war." Dravesk spoke evenly, pacing about the group. "They have even enlisted the help of the makalvari. I don't understand why, as those birds are a traitorous bunch. If you ask me, they deserve to be eradicated." He paused at Aithris' right, leering down at the Nomad. Aithris looked up, meeting his gaze dead-on, his violet-hued eyes brimming with contempt.

"And you, I've heard of you. The Nomad in the employ of the Earthers." His left hand pulled forth the retractable baton, and with a flick it extended from a mere four inches to twelve. Overall, it was little more than half an inch in width, comprised of a sturdy, shining alloy. The Major's strike came hard and fast, sending agony coursing through Aithris' skull as soon as it connected with the back of his head. He fell forwards, landing on his hands. Natalia went to rise to her feet then, her face contorted with rage. She received a strike across the back from the Major, who spun her way with alarming quickness, and she yelped in pain before falling flat on her face. Dravesk practically grinned at his handiwork, before the soldier standing a few paces behind Aithris stepped forwards and pulled the Nomad back upon his knees with his collar. Aithris' head was spinning, pain surging through it. However, his attention went to Natalia, and he saw the agony on her features and a blistering anger raced through him. He went to move for her, but suddenly Dravesk was there in front of him, pressing the tip of the baton against his chin as to lift his head up. Again, their eyes met.

"I was contemplating which of you to take alive," Dravesk remarked. "My superiors would love to get a hold of you. Imagine all the things we could dissect from a Nomad." He smirked at the implication. Aithris scowled but said nothing. To his left, Natalia was slowly rising to her knees again. Suddenly, Kav'rak's voice piped up from the end of the line, drawing the Calsharan's attention.

"You wretched, scaly bastard." Kav'rak's eyes were wide, his mouth curled into a snarl, pointed teeth bared. Dravesk strode towards him, one brow-ridge piquing at the sight of his mangled leg. The makalvari Captain was no doubt in a lot of pain, and it was likely that very pain that drove his anger now. "If you want to have a go at someone, I'm right here, you coward. Beating on an unarmed opponent, just what kind of man are you? Such glorious acts for the Calsharan empire…"

Kav'rak was interrupted when the Major swatted him across the face with his baton. Kav'rak crumpled into the mud with a yelp. Dravesk smacked the baton down upon his wounded leg, drawing an agonized screech from the avian Captain. Jonas went to make a move to help him, but then Dravesk was there before him, pointing the bloodied baton his way.

"Stay still, human," the Major spat. "Unless you want to be the first executed?"

"You wanted us alive, didn't you?" It was Aithris who spoke then, his voice a little raspier than usual, brought on by the aches and pains that wracked his beaten body. He knew he was destined for a dismal death at the hands of these Calsharans, but if he could ensure the safety of the others…

"For however long you prove useful," Dravesk replied. "Although you won't be around long, Nomad. You can have my word on that."


John Sheppard had tumbled on through the forest, his clothes filthy, a layer of sweat and grime having covered his bare face and arms. By chance, he had stumbled upon a dirt road, and it was this he had followed, aware that somewhere further ahead was the enemy. They, in turn, had been on the trail of the rest of the team. And now John came upon the narrow river that cut through the valley, the attention of the enemy diverted to the team and not to the lone human who crept on through the undergrowth and weaved his way around their flank.

He saw the team being held at gunpoint by the Calsharans, knew that there was little time to waste. He crept through the brush with a finesse that surprised even him, as if getting thoroughly covered with dirt and ash from the explosion had made him more in tune with the rainforest around him. Like a jaguar, he snaked his way around the clearing, coming within metres of the solitary Calsharan armoured carrier. It was similar to the one the team had commandeered from the Calsharan airfield, albeit this one had an intimidating plasma repeater cannon mounted upon its top, a cannon that was currently manned by a lone soldier. This soldier had the gun and his head turned to the scene across the river, where Aithris and the others remained at the mercy of the enemy. John saw Kav'rak get beaten down, all while Natalia slowly rose back upon her knees from the blow she had received. All this sent a spike of anger into John's core, and he knew he must act now, no matter how slim his odds of success were.

He had lost his rifle in the explosion. He still carried a plasma pistol, but it was the combat knife he had at his waist that he pulled then. Emerging from the bushes closest to the stationary carrier, John moved quickly to its rear, mounting the few handholds there that allowed him to climb upon its top. He made little noise doing so, and just as the Calsharan soldier mounting the gun turned his head, John plunged the knife into the trooper's neck, striking at the unarmoured section there where the blade easily pierced the rubbery under-suit of the Calsharan's armour. It cut through smooth scales and sliced a critical artery, resulting in a geyser of blood that spurted down the Calsharan's chest and left him a gargling, groaning mess.

John shoved him off of the gun platform, sending his dying form crumpling into the mud. Sliding the knife back into its sheath, John grabbed the handles of the plasma cannon, turning it upon the lone soldier seated in the driver's compartment. Immediately, he hit the dual triggers on the intimidating weapon, startled at how little it shook in its housing as a rapid stream of blue energy bolts tore out of the twin barrels. They ripped into the metal of the carrier's driver's cabin, cutting into the driver and practically carving him in two. Blood splattered across the transparent canopy, before the whole thing simply shattered, shards of the sturdy and transparent material scattering all around.

John swiveled the gun about, turning it to the Calsharan troopers in the clearing across the river. Gritting his teeth, seeing them all turn to the source of this latest commotion, he hit the triggers again and started pouring on the fire.


Aithris was first to react to the distraction. He was up on his feet as the soldiers around them spun to face the source of the tell-tale sound of plasma weapons fire. Aithris turned and sighted John on the back of the stationary armoured carrier, and he found himself hit with a sense of relief he had not felt for some time. It was a chance, brought on by a man he had come to trust and rely upon over the past year. And a chance was all he needed.

He lunged for the nearest Calsharan soldier, elbowing him in the neck before pulling the plasma rifle from his grasp. Aithris blasted him in the stomach at point blank range, a puff of smoke and flame erupting from the impact. The Calsharan soldier fell into a heap. The other team members were jumping for the soldiers who had held them at gunpoint until seconds previously. Aithris turned around in an instant and shot the soldier nearest to Natalia, sending him falling with a smoking hole blasted in his side. Natalia darted for the soldier's rifle right away. Jonas had tackled one of the Calsharan soldiers, and the two had tumbled into the muddy bank of the river, with Jonas grappling with the Calsharan for control of the plasma rifle he held.

John let fly with a hail of plasma fire, the stream of blue energy bolts ripping through the air. His aim was well clear of his team, and further down the clearing a group of five Calsharan soldiers received the brunt of the fire. Aithris saw them get ripped to pieces within seconds, limbs severed, scorched holes being blasted through them all as they fell. Stray shots blasted up puffs of dirt and small gusts of smoke.

Major Dravesk had run off somewhere, taking cover from the incessant hail of plasma fire. Aithris glanced at Natalia, and the pair's eyes met with the Sergeant giving the Nomad a faint smile. Weapons fire barked from up ahead as some of the scattered Calsharan troopers opened up on their position. Both Aithris and Natalia dived to the ground, taking shelter in a shallow ditch. Both Sha'Pek and Hur'Par had grabbed weapons and were returning fire, sending two of the Calsharan troopers partway across the clearing tumbling. Plasma bolts zipped all around.

Suddenly, a distant crack sounded and a Calsharan trooper, one whom had run to the crest of the ditch Aithris and Natalia had taken shelter in, fell forwards with a bloody hole shot into their back. This one fell into the ditch between the two, blood flowing freely from a now torn-up ribcage. Aithris shoved the bloodied body aside, taking up the dead soldier's plasma rifle. Two guns were better than one, after all.


Elsie had been taken off-guard when the mounted gun had opened fire, and she had been even more surprised to sight John manning that very gun. The opportunity this presented was clear, and she did not waste any time in sighting down her rifle's scope and taking aim at one of the Calsharan soldiers she saw running across the clearing. The team had also seized their chance, tackling Calsharans and snatching up whatever weapons they could.

Elsie took a breath as she aimed, and she exhaled when she hit the trigger. Her aim was true and the Calsharan fell forwards, tumbling into a shallow ditch, carried by his own momentum. She shifted her aim to another, off to the left flank of the team's position. Amongst the growing confusion, she thought she sighted the Calsharan officer who had been beating on Aithris on the others; however, she lost him amongst some foliage, and so settled her aim upon one of the Calsharan support troopers who appeared to be in the process of setting up their own small, portable turret.

The bark of the fifty-calibre rifle was like thunder in her ears, and it echoed across the valley, reverberating off of the surrounding hills. The support trooper fell over, their head having promptly exploded, blood briefly spurting from the ragged stump in the few seconds after the fact before the heart gave out completely. The enemy troopers below were too distracted to really notice her, faced as they were by a man on a mounted gun on an elevated position. And then there were the various members of the team, scattering through the clearing and engaging in the chaotic melee themselves.

Elsie allowed herself to relax. This was an ideal battle situation: elevated position, a confused enemy and plenty of targets to choose from. And so, she picked another Calsharan amongst the chaos and took aim. For once, she felt some satisfaction, seeing as how her situation had gone from 'terrible' to 'much improved' in a matter of moments.


John poured on the fire, cutting a swathe through the enemy ranks. They had been caught by complete surprise and in an open clearing; a veritable 'kill-zone' if there ever was one. All John had to do was keep shooting, and the plasma repeater cannon did an excellent job of that. Twin barrels, no recoil and seemingly unending charge for them both.

The return fire came upon it quickly, with errant plasma bolts glancing off of the armoured shield of the cannon itself. John ducked as one shot over the top of it, passing his head near enough for him to feel the heat of it. He saw Aithris and the others spreading amongst the fight, with Sha'Pek and Hur'Par sticking close together, working in unison to cover each other like some well-oiled fighting machine. There was Jonas, now with a plasma rifle in his grasp, who had taken cover behind the trunk of an ageing, gnarled tree by the riverbank. Even Kav'rak was getting in on the fight, despite his mangled and bloody leg. He had crawled into cover behind a fallen tree and was firing over the top of it, gunning down a Calsharan soldier who came running up on his left flank.

Elsie was out there somewhere as well, for John recognized the familiar bark of her Barrett rifle. Another Calsharan fell to her fine aim, this one going down with a sizeable hole shot through their stomach.

John did not let up with the plasma cannon, mowing down a further four of the scattered Calsharans. He sighted Aithris and Natalia then, moving between the ditch and a small rise in the clearing, their plasma guns firing as they moved. By the slight rise was a fallen Calsharan, and it was to this body that Aithris sprinted. He jumped beside it, ripped a hand grenade from the dead lizard's armour vest and tossed it at a trio of them further ahead. The explosive detonated in a flash of blue flame, sending the trio of Calsharans flying, depositing them upon the muddy ground as charred, mangled corpses.

John realised that something had started beeping at him, and it took him another second or two to see that it was the cannon. It was overheating, or at least that was what he assumed the blinking red display underneath the dual trigger was telling him. He could not let up now, and he wondered if there was a way to vent the excess heat. Calsharan heavy weapons were not his specialty, and for a moment there he let off the triggers to take a closer look at the alien symbols on the display. Something was blinking green at him, off to the side of the gun; above it was a small lever, and he pulled on it, half-expecting it to dismount the weapon or something else that would screw him over. Instead, another vent opened on the side of the weapon, sending forth a loud hissing sound as heat was expelled in a searing trail. As soon as the red lights were gone, he closed the vent and returned his attention down the sights of the weapon. Once again, he hit the triggers and laid waste to a further pair of Calsharan troopers who had appeared near the riverbank, presumably in an effort to try and flank him. Both were ripped to shreds by the withering hail of energy fire, their dark red blood mingling into the flowing, crystal-clear water.

John heard a faint humming noise then, and he turned to his left, looking to the dirt road that had led him here. A Calsharan troop transport was coming their way, its black armoured bulk and sturdy wheels traversing the uneven, bumpy road with ease. John spun the weapon around and let fly with another unrelenting stream of plasma fire as the truck came upon the flowing waters, the soldiers crammed inside presumably expecting trouble but not to this extent.

The plasma fire tore through the truck's canopy, shattering it and ripping into the driver. The unfortunate driver slumped forward against the wheel then, sending the carrier into an uncontrolled acceleration that put it headlong into the shallow stream. John poured the plasma bolts on, the searing energy cutting through the vehicle's armour with startling ease. The Calsharans in the passenger section barely even knew what hit them when the plasma fire came slicing through, searing flesh and metal alike, tearing the unwitting soldiers to pieces. The truck swerved to its right, plunging it into the deeper section of the stream, before it finally came to a halt, the forward-mounted engine pouring smoke. The entire body of the vehicle was riddled with smoking holes, with one mangled Calsharan carcass falling out of the open rear doors before it plopped unceremoniously into the water.

John spun the gun around back upon the clearing. Further return fire flitted his way, and one of the plasma bolts clipped his left leg and sent pain reeling up the entire limb. He grunted, able to hear the flesh there sizzling, and for a moment his fingers came away from the cannon's triggers and he stumbled, almost falling off of the rear of the carrier. Gritting his teeth, he pulled himself up with one hand upon the cannon, and he once more spun it towards the clearing.


Aithris kept behind a fallen tree, Natalia at his side, the pair blasting down a Calsharan soldier off to their right. There seemed to be more of them than he had first figured, yet he could not deny that he felt a strange sort of thrill in gunning them down. Did that make him a bad person? His father, Vakron, had called it the 'battle-fever', the feeling one got when in the heat of a fight for their lives, the feeling that drove them into actually enjoying the carnage. It was natural, or so Vakron had told his son. Natural or not, he was not sure if that made it 'right'.

Where had the Calsharan Major gone? Aithris could not see him, although he saw plenty of other Calsharans. Bodies were strewn about the clearing now, and the plasma cannon that was being manned by the Colonel was kicking up a swathe of dirt as he poured on the fire. However, the enemy numbers, although diminished, were still significant.

The Nomad's attention was drawn to the hills on the far-right flank of the clearing. A rollicking, bird-like cry had sounded from the tree line, similar to the one Kav'rak had given back in Blaskane. This one was longer, more of a call than a challenge. Natalia turned her head to try and discern the source of the sound. It was not immediately apparent, but the source became clear when the first of the makalvari soldiers came storming out of the trees. Dozens more followed, mag-rifles and plasma carbines firing. Among them, leading the charge, was the makalvari Corporal they had met in the facility. Somehow, somewhere along the way, he had led the outlying makalvari forces to this region.

The makalvari force numbered about thirty and they came charging downhill towards the clearing by the river. Calsharan soldiers turned to face the new threat, only to be cut down by the makalvari or by the team members in the clearing with them. Aithris had to admit, it was a somewhat inspiring sight, and he paused to watch as the bird-like aliens strode and lunged through the chaos, moving with an agility not even he could have matched. Blades were drawn as the makalvari closed in, mostly curved serrated blades that one could easily conceal. Some of the charging makalvari were shot down, but the combined fire of the mounted gun and of Elsie's sniping was too much for the beleaguered Calsharans. Those that remained turned and made a run for it, although even those were ruthlessly cut down, with the makalvari jumping them and cutting into them with knives or simply clubbing them with the stocks of their weapons.

Aithris, rising from behind the fallen tree, sighted Sha'Pek and Hur'Par nearby. Sha'Pek was wounded in the shoulder, but he was otherwise all right, despite having that arm hanging limply by his side. Jonas was nearby, as dirty as the rest of them, weapon held at the ready and his eyes fixed with a fierce determination.

That was when Aithris sighted Major Dravesk. He was off to the left flank, running into the foliage, fleeing from the fray. Aithris started after him, only to pause when he heard Natalia call his name.

"Where are you going?" She asked him, her eyes filled with a concern that suggested a much stronger attachment than either of them was brave enough to admit.

"Just stay put, Natalia. I've got to take care of something." Aithris sprinted onwards, stepping over the fallen as he went. Across the river, John had ceased firing, satisfied that the enemy force had been routed.

Some of the nearby makalvari offered Aithris curious, even worried, glances. However, none tried to stop him, content as they were with the obvious fact that he was on their side. He ran on into the tree line, pushing his way through the underbrush, sighting the Calsharan Major further ahead. Aithris caught up to him easily, for the Major stumbled frequently, unused to the rough terrain and much more used to the comfortable confines of the weapons facility he had commanded. The Major had his gun drawn, not that this concerned the Nomad much. Darting around the Major's flank, Aithris came around on his left, lunging at him from the side and shoving him into the muddy, moss-covered ground.

The Calsharan Major swore loudly in his native tongue, his gun falling from his grasp and disappearing amongst the overgrown weeds and grasses that took up much of the forest floor. Aithris stood over him, and before Major Dravesk could properly react, he kicked the Calsharan officer across the jaw. Dravesk let out a pained yelp as his head snapped back and he fell upon his back, blood seeping from a cut that had opened inside his lower lip. Bugs buzzed and chirruped around them, with exotic alien birds squawking above in fright upon seeing the two unusual intruders in their domain. The sky was clear, the sun was out and the air smelled of damp earth and lush greenery. A place of natural beauty, and on any normal occasion Aithris might have paused to admire it all. Not now, however. Not with his focus set firmly upon the arrogant Calsharan Major before him.

"Leaving us so soon, Major?" Aithris saw no harm in getting a little satisfaction out of seeing the Calsharan officer on the ground. Before the Major could reply, Aithris bent over and punched him squarely in the face, a crunchy squelching noise indicating that he had broken his enemy's nose. Blood poured from the Calsharan's narrow nostrils, and he groaned in pain as one hand went up to cradle his face. Aithris saw the baton from earlier, retracted back into its shorter form and hanging from the Major's belt. Aithris snatched it up, flicking it into its fully extended shape. With it, he placed the end under Dravesk's chin, coaxing him to raise his head such that he was looking the Nomad in the eyes.

"You know I can't let you go," Aithris stated, his tone firm. Dravesk glared at him, blood pouring out of his nose, down his face and into his mouth. Aithris considered subduing the Major, taking him captive even. However, a movement at the Major's side with his right hand drew his attention, and Aithris jumped back as the Calsharan whipped out a short blade and took a swipe at his stomach with it. Aithris' reaction time was such that he avoided getting his guts slashed open, and as soon as the Major had followed through with his attack, Aithris swung the baton in a backhanded motion and swatted it hard across the Major's face.

Dravesk fell backwards, and Aithris was upon him immediately. He jammed the end of the baton into the Major's mouth, forcing it past his teeth. The Nomad's violet-hued eyes were ablaze with anger and a thirst for blood, for now he acted purely on impulse instead of reason. With all his weight behind the baton, he sent the end of it through the back of Dravesk's mouth and out the back off his neck, blood spilling around the torn flesh on the other side. Dravesk let out a gargling sound as blood rushed down his throat with Aithris releasing his grasp on the weapon once the deed was done.

He took a step back to gaze upon his handiwork proper, noticing how Dravesk continued to twitch with the baton now lodged somewhere against his spinal column. Aithris took up the short blade the Major had attempted to use against him, thinking it best he put the bastard out of his misery. Kneeling by him, Aithris plunged the blade into the Calsharan Major's chest, placing it such that it slipped between the ribs and impaled his heart. The twitching stopped right away, and the Major's eyes remained open and vacant, blood rapidly pooling around his head and seeping into the muddy ground.

Aithris rose to his feet, breathing heavily. He was not sure how to feel, and so allowed a calm neutrality to fall upon him. He had to regain control of himself, something his father and mentors had trained into him. It was one thing to become caught in the battle-fever, it was another to bring one's self out of it, to regain balance in their composure and allow their more reason-based faculties to take control once again.

He heard movement in the foliage to his right then, and he turned his head. Natalia had appeared, having followed him. She saw him, gave a look of relief, and then turned her attention to the dead Major. Her gaze narrowed somewhat, but she did not appear at all fussed that the antagonistic Calsharan was dead.

"Did he give you much trouble?" Natalia asked him. It was hard to tell if she was making a light joke out of it or not. Aithris answered honestly, for that was one quality of his he was proud to hold.

"Enough," he answered. He motioned for the way back to the clearing. "We should regroup with the others. Hopefully they will have a means to get us off of this planet."

"I sure hope so," Natalia added, and she fell into step alongside him, the pair walking back the way they had come. Dirty and tired, they had survived and that was what counted most.


"You guys came at the right time." Jonas looked to the makalvari Corporal, who had led the charge down the hill. The clearing about them was strewn with the dead, mostly Calsharan, although several of the makalvari soldiers lay among them. Those that remained standing were picking over the dead, stripping them of anything valuable, from weapons to ammunition and even trinkets. Jonas had seen plenty of dead bodies in his time, and the one thing that always got him about the aftermath of a fight like this was the smell. It was the smell of flesh and blood, even of burning flesh from those who had been burned by plasma weaponry. Plenty of mangled, charred Calsharan corpses littered the ground around him, the result of John's intervention with the cannon.

The Colonel had come across the river then, pausing near Jonas, his clothes and face dirty, his gait carrying with it a limp brought on by a plasma burn at his left leg. Sha'Pek was seated on a tree stump nearby whilst Sergeant Hur'Par tended to his shoulder wound. A makalvari medic was treating Kav'rak's mangled leg, and the makalvari Captain had once again found himself lying upon a stretcher. A few spot fires burned about the clearing, a result of stray plasma fire causing the overgrown clusters of grass and shrubs to be set alight.

"We were nearby when we heard the commotion," the Corporal said. "The men with me were performing reconnaissance. I suspect Captain Kav'rak had arranged for them to get into the region beforehand."

"The exfiltration plan," Jonas said. A plan that Kav'rak had not shared with them, no doubt because of some vague notion of 'compartmentalisation'. Kav'rak looked up from his place on the stretcher when he heard his name mentioned, the wildness in his eyes having faded, replaced with something much more dour.

"Jonas…" His voice was raspy, weaker than it had been. Jonas moved over to where he lay, squatting by his prone form. "I have to thank you, for helping me with my wounds." He sounded almost pained to be saying this, as if gratitude was some kind of alien concept to him. Jonas only smiled, giving the makalvari Captain a nod. Nearby, he noticed John was staring at Kav'rak with a worrying intensity. Before Jonas could say anything more, John was there beside him, his eyes fixed upon Kav'rak's own.

"You took the data out of that lab, didn't you?" John asked him. For a few seconds there, Kav'rak looked confused, befuddled. John's gaze hardened and he leaned in closer to the wounded makalvari, his voice becoming low, tinged with a sense of threat that Jonas had not heard from the Colonel before.

"You used us, just like I knew you were," John said. "All to get hold of the work the Calsharans did on a weapon your people started, is that right?"

Kav'rak did not reply. The confusion had left his gaze, replaced with a sense of resignation. A soldier at either end of the stretcher lifted it up off of the ground then, and the pair began carrying the Captain away. John watched him go, feeling some small sense of betrayal, even if he had suspected the real reasons for this mission from the beginning. Through a sense of duty to their main ally in this latest fight, they had come along, hoping for an opportunity to get some valuable intelligence. Instead, they had seemingly come up nought.

"Don't worry, Colonel." Jonas' voice was low, and he leaned towards the Colonel as the two of them stood upright. Jonas reached into a pocket and retrieved a Calsharan computer crystal, appearing as little more than a transparent block about an inch thick and an inch in width. "I pulled a hard drive crystal out of the lab as well."

"You did?" John quirked his brows and Jonas nodded. They spoke quietly, knowing full well that makalvari hearing was a lot more sensitive than that of a human. They certainly did not need Kav'rak overhearing them, even if he was being carted away.

"It's a stretch, but maybe we'll find what the Captain found on this one as well?" Jonas slipped the crystal back into his pocket. The mission was not a total loss, at least.

Both Aithris and Natalia approached then, both dirty but otherwise relatively unscathed. Aithris still bared the evidence of the beating he had received. Knowing him, he would get over it soon enough.

Natalia smiled when she saw the Colonel, relieved to see him alive.

"You know how to make your presence felt, sir," she commented. She no doubt meant the carnage around them. John nodded in acknowledgment of Natalia's remark, but otherwise did not reply. He did not feel like making light of what had happened, even if it was a sort of personal record for him. How many Calsharans had he gunned down over the course of several minutes? It had been necessary, of course. Unlike some, John was not one to dwell much upon those lives he took in the line of duty. What he did dwell on were the lives he saved, and it was those standing around him now he had rescued from certain death. That was a victory in his book, although he realised then and there that there was one missing.

"Where's Lieutenant Rhodes?" He asked aloud, looking about the clearing. The Lieutenant had made her presence felt as well, in her own sharpshooting way. As if on cue, she appeared off to the group's left, her rifle slung around her shoulder. Compared to the others, she was absolutely filthy, with just about every inch of her covered in a varyingly thick layer of dried mud.

"Right here, Colonel." The others turned to look her way. Elsie appeared unscathed, despite how dirty she was. "I thought we'd lost you in that explosion, sir."

"I like to think it'll take more than a centuries-old bomb to kill me," John replied, offering the team as a whole a wry smile.

The makalvari Corporal interjected then, getting his attention:

"Colonel, your team should come with us," the Corporal said. "We can get you back to the stargate. Most of the Calsharan forces in the region have pulled back, for now."

John nodded his head. A way off of this planet was most welcome. He felt as if he had endured enough of Dalabrai to last a lifetime. As a passing thought, he wondered how Daniel was doing back home. Maybe he had had more luck on his own mission?