Smile for the Birdie
Caldwell and the tech stared at each other for a good five seconds before he answered the voice broadcasting across the event horizon.
"Lt. Ford, this is Col. Caldwell. How can I help you?"
"Who's this? Where're the Bosses?"
"I'm Col. Steven Caldwell and I'm babysitting the fort while they tend to other business." Caldwell looked back at the tech who just stared at the Gate.
"Oh yeah, I remember you- the Daedalus right? Well, cool. Glad they could get away, but now might not be the best time."
"And, why is that Lieutenant?" Caldwell was getting impatient. He knew the kid was not packing a full duffle, but he was enjoying the back and forth a little too much. Ford was a rogue element and he did not like rogue elements.
"Well colonel, the Wraith are looking for anyone associated with the expedition. Seems others are too, but that was only a matter of time. According to my little network, it looks like that's been resolved anyway. Good work there on Cowen and the coup on the Genii home world. Although, I thought Laden was a bit of a prick the last time I saw him."
Caldwell held his exasperation and his shock at the lieutenant's information in check. "Could you elaborate?"
"I picked up a few family snapshots off a little birdie. Before that, he was kind enough to do a little boasting."
Caldwell now felt his adrenaline spike. Those snapshots were a bane to their existence. "Continue lieutenant."
"Oh that's nice, sounds so official. 'Continue lieutenant.' Yeah, you see, I don't think I'm a lieutenant anymore. But, that's neither here nor there. Sooo anywho, my little Franken-birdie chirped rather boastfully in my ear before I removed his enzyme pouch."
Caldwell cringed a little.
"The sweet little chick-a-dee conveyed to me that they would find those that survived the destruction of the city. Then, he starts in on making them hood ornaments as they move to their new feeding grounds."
"They make that statement all the time," replied Caldwell. A sound to his right grabbed his attention. Dr. Beckett came bounding up the stairs. Caldwell gave him an acknowledging nod.
"Yeah, blah, blah, blah…our kind this…blah, blah…we will feast that…" He achieved a light tone in his voice. Caldwell could picture Ford's eyes rolling and flapping his hand like a mouth. His next statement was anything but light, "He tells me, 'You are Atlantean; I can smell it.' I knew I left my deodorant there, but damn, that was uncalled for and down right insulting." He almost sounded like he was spitting at the mere mention of being associated with them in anyway.
Caldwell, the technician and Beckett exchanged questioning looks. "Ah, Ford?"
"Now what was I saying? Oh yeah. After I removed the pouch, I found the pictures. Nice headshots. One of my men can read Wraith. Not only do they have pics of Sheppard, they have Weir's name and a description written on a few. Also, they want anyone specializing in anything "very scientific". I swear they're acting like the King of Siam. "Very scientific", sound like anyone else whose picture's circulating?"
Now, Ford had Caldwell's full attention. He was not going to give away any surprise, so he nonchalantly answered, "I'm impressed with your intel Ford. But, this isn't really a revelation. However, we'll be more careful on off-world missions. Is this story leading anywhere?" Caldwell eyed Beckett. He looked upset, as if his failure was being thrown back at him.
"Oh, I have so much more…As I was saying about his hood ornament comment, one hive may have something big planned. I don't think it's more than one though." There was a pause as a muffled voice spoke in the background. "Well, looks like I need to wrap this up…when I say big, I mean reaching Earth big. I'll contact you again. Most likely 24 to 36 hours from now. Good chatting with ya Colonel, talk with ya on the flip side!"
The line went dead as the blue pool disappeared.
"Did that daft lad say, 'reaching Earth big'?" Beckett asked a silent Gate Room.
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She opened her eyes. Dr. Elizabeth Weir, negotiator, leader and professional hostage, she thought to herself. On the other hand, maybe, I'm a professional prisoner. Sheppard would have to let her into the pins and needles club now. It was less than exciting.
Obviously, she had not made it to the river. She rolled over and almost into Teyla who, obviously, had made it to the river by her drowned rat appearance. Although, just as obvious, it did little good. She was stunned, retrieved and lay next to Elizabeth on the floor.
Elizabeth felt for a pulse and got it. She rolled back onto her spine and took in her surroundings. From every description of a Wraith ship she had read, this must be a holding cell. It was very vein-like, spider-webbed and chilling.
Now was not the time to panic. Not yet.
She studied the accommodations and just did not like any outcome other than escape. No, don't panic now either.
What did she know? Teyla was here. Rodney and Cavanaugh might be here too. Sheppard, Lorne, and Dex were…Well, she could only keep positive thoughts about that. They were on a Wraith ship or in a Wraith facility. Atlantis would know something was up because they had radioed that they were on their way home. Humans stunned them. Stood to reason, humans were running the show.
Now was this a purposeful attack or mere coincidence?
The echo of footsteps rang down the hall and made her sit up. Then she began to notice smaller sounds like Teyla's breathing, the thrum of machinery, her own breathing, and her heart hammering away in her chest. Another asset- her hearing had returned.
She tried to wake Teyla, but nothing resembling consciousness was forthcoming. Splendid. She sat there contemplating any options she had at that particular moment. They also were not forthcoming until human guards pushed a familiar face in front of her cell door. Still, the options remained unpleasant.
"Rodney?"
"Hello Elizabeth. Fancy meeting you here. Nice digs, spacious…" The guard behind him thumped him in the head with his hand held stunner- hard. The last face to appear in the doorway made her stomach knot. Collaboration. She was wrong in her first assessment. The Wraith were running the show. The humans were in league with them. Steve and Bob's kissin' cousin stood next to Rodney.
He hissed for her to exit. The pistol whipper motioned her with a Neanderthal grunt.
"Charming," sniped Rodney watching her all the way.
Weir cast one last look at Teyla, stood up and exited the cell.
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Weir and McKay walked side by side.
"Any idea where or what?" she whispered.
"No." The guard thumped him again. "Ow!" McKay glared as he rubbed the knots on his head.
"Shut that mouth. You talk too much." The guard thwacked him again for good measure on the side of the head where is hand was not.
"Ouch!" Rodney yelled as he rubbed the side of his head. "Asshole," he muttered because now he really missed Ronon and Sheppard.
They passed cells. They passed cocooned humans. They passed labs. They passed desiccated corpses. They walked down hallways, up corridors, and through large rooms until they reach another large room with a slightly raised pedestal. Their escorts motioned them to stand on the circular stump. A bright light illuminated them chasing away the dankness and the gloom.
Their human guards and the male Wraith retreated to the walls in the cavernous room. Elizabeth and Rodney turned in a circle studying the area. It was dark and inhabited by a Wraith Queen that materialized in an uncomfortable proximity to the pair. Her grin made it even more uncomfortable. In unison, they took a reflexive step back only to bump into two masked drones standing silently behind them.
Now they were trapped in a lair. Small delectable flies invited in by the spider. That never went well for the fly. What was wrong with him? He was comparing himself with a disease ridden flying insect that ate just about anything.
"Acceptable." The Queen startled him. Her voice carried throughout the room. She looked at the escorts by the wall. "You have done well."
Elizabeth straightened herself to full height. "I'm Dr. Eli…" she started with an air of confidence that she could not be feeling.
"I don't care. Names are irrelevant. You are nothing more…" She tilted her head to the side and studied their clothes. A skeletal grin of delight formed on her face. "You are from the former Lantean city. You are those that have the secret to the vast feeding grounds. I have been looking for you."
She leaned in and sniffed next to Elizabeth's shoulder. Her yellow eyes widened and she bared her fangs in excitement. "He was with you. The murderer, the savior. Stories are told of his defiance and of his actions." It was hard to tell, but her eyes glazed over, lost in the moment. "A taste such as that must be savored. The boldness, the brashness- I could make it last."
"What?" Rodney croaked. He wanted to run. Bolt. Scamper. Be anywhere but here.
Elizabeth's mouth hung slightly open. She looked sick because he knew as well as she that the Queen meant Sheppard. They met a fan or connoisseur, really did not matter. From what Teyla reported, they did not want them to have him. It was not as if their experience was going to be giggles and tea. He was sure it was going to involve quite a bit of screaming and shrieking in terror and pain. For Sheppard, it would be so much more.
"Make sure everyone knows who to look for. He's on the planet. Fate's delivered them to us, now it's time for all the pieces of the plan to fit together. We'll be feasting on Earth in mere weeks."
Rodney's eyes bugged out. "Weeks?" With his verbal skills in peak form, he continued, "How…unless you have an intergalactic hyper…drive?" His eyes bugged even more at the fierce smile that answered him.
Weir and McKay faced each other. A sickly shade of green reflected between the two.
The Queen held up a slip of paper. "You are also important." She looked directly at Rodney. Now, he was sure the green in Elizabeth's face must have been enhanced by the green in his. "An animal who knows a few tricks. The nets were plentiful this catch."
She turned his picture around for Elizabeth and him to see.
"It doesn't do you or him justice I assume." She turned another picture around with Sheppard's image. "I must make sure I don't lose you."
"What does that mean?" squeaked Rodney.
Her answer was another hideous smile and a single word.
"Perfection," she hissed to the entire room.
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"Perfect," Sheppard hissed under his breath.
Ronon gave him a quick look. Sheppard ran his finger across his throat and covered Lorne with his body. Ronon dropped to the wet sand of the riverbank and started firing. In less than three minutes, no one stood on the other side. They looked up at the people on the road. One rifle barrel smoked as well. Tram stood there with a scowl on his face and handed the gun to someone else. It was good to have friends in high places.
Ascending the twelve foot cliff became a priority again. Lorne went up with only a few bumps added to his list. Ronon insisted Sheppard go next. Sheppard fitted the harness around him. It felt great. His shoulder and torso sang with praise for the idea. They wanted him to scream for joy at the fun they were having. He tried to use his legs as much as possible to keep pressure off his more tender areas. Yeah, right, that was so not happening.
When he finally reached the top, arms pulled him to the road and guided him to the wagon. Swatting at a woman to leave him alone, he leaned against the side. A quick peek inside the wagon showed him an insensible Lorne. Momentarily satisfied, he watched and waited until the dreadlocks pushed gravel and dirt away from the edge of the road.
As soon as Ronon was topside, their eyes met. A quick nod and Sheppard collapsed into insensibility himself.
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When Ronon reached the road, he too collapsed. Consciousness remained, however. For the first time, he would be riding inside the wagon. Since he was taller than the average man, it was uncomfortable to sit inside the conveyance. This time, however, he would not mind. He watched them lift Sheppard up off the road and place him inside.
Everybody smiled. Some helped. Some tried to talk to him. Once they understood that his hearing was missing, pats on the shoulder or thigh replaced the unheard words. An older woman and her young companion- her granddaughter he guessed- looked after Lorne and Sheppard. A young man helped Ronon to one of the doors. He looked inside; benches lined the sides and ends of the wagon. Two exits interrupted the benches on each side. Small square windows lined the sides and one was at the back. The cover of the wagon was constructed of wood and was shaped into a dome with railings. Since Sheppard had shown him the John Wayne westerns during one of their down periods, he recognized this thing as a cross between a stagecoach and a covered wagon.
Tram brought a rudimentary first aid kit and gave it to the old woman. His presence elicited another pat on the shoulder for Ronon. He had to smile. These Earthlings, and him by association, either had life long friends or life long enemies. These people were friends. Tram's response never wavered- no qualms about helping them.
Ronon looked back at Tram; the other man frowned. The pat had more meaning than support. He held up two pairs of dog tags and showed Ronon the top of the wagon. Ronon stood up as Tram climbed up. Strapped to one of the railings was a body. He pulled a blanket back to reveal Pvt. Jones' mutilated face.
Ronon bowed his head for a moment. He lifted it up and held out his hand for the two sets of tags. Tram handed him Jones' tags and then mouthed, "Nothing left," when he handed him the other set. Ronon nodded his head in understanding.
"Any others?" Ronon asked a little too loudly.
Tram squinted and pulled his head back.
"Sorry," Ronon hoped he whispered and waited for the answer.
Tram shook his head, "No one else."
Ronon turned around, looked at the river, and at the bodies on the otherside. His assessment of the situation had not changed. This was bad. There was no sign of the others. They would not have just left Jones and the tags behind. The bad guys had Dr. Weir, McKay, Teyla and Cavanaugh. He turned back around and bent over to look into the wagon. Sheppard and Lorne slept oblivious to the world.
They had been laughing, eating and enjoying the Yarbenians hospitality just a few hours ago. Now he was only bringing back part of the team, a corpse, an ownerless set of dog tags and bad news.
This trip was a prime opportunity to grab the leaders of Atlantis. Sheppard had stated misgivings about having Lorne, Weir and himself on the mission. She counter pointed that they had all been off world together before. It was a show of commitment to attend the final meeting. Anyway, Caldwell was back in Atlantis so she figured it was worth the risk.
Ronon was sure this tactic would be rethought in the future.
Tram helped him inside and Ronon took a seat on the floor. There was plenty of room on this trip. The wagon held up to sixteen on the benches. This trip there was only six passengers excluding the Atlanteans. He sat at the end farthest from the driver and stretched out his legs. Sheppard and Lorne lay side by side at the drivers end.
A young man handed Ronon a cup of water. He accepted it gratefully. The women continued to look after the other two with the limited supplies available. Ronon showed them the bag and the kit in there. They redressed both of the soldiers' wounds and used some extra blankets to cover them up. Ronon even accepted one since he was still cold from the river. He closed his eyes for a second.
Maybe a Puddle Jumper could exit the Ring safely. Sheppard decided against using one due to the surrounding cliffs. The Great Ring sat in a canyon and less than 150 yards away from it was a sheer rock face. The craft would have to exit and go directly into a climb. Since transportation was available and Jumpers did not grow on trees, the safety issue dictated exploration on foot. Although, Sheppard said it would be a blast to attempt with or without the G-forces.
They had to know by now. Atlantis would forego the safety issue since Dr. Weir was in trouble. Moreover, if Atlantis sent foot traffic first, the blast area was hard to miss even if no one or nothing remained. The signs were surely visible to even the unpracticed eye.
The area was only 45 minutes from the Gate. They really did have to know by now.
The wagon lurched and started its journey back to Yarben- the town where they held all the negotiations. If rescue was underway, if they used the Jumper, and if no communication was available with anyone on the team, the small town would be the first place they search.
The sway of the wagon, the silence, and the gentle reassurances of the passengers lulled Ronon to sleep. His fatigued settled on him like his heavy, warm blanket and he lost the fight to continue his duty as protector of his teammates. A hand guided him to the floor and then gently patted his shoulder as he relaxed.
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A/N: This story is like the underwear gnomes. Step 1. Steal underwear. Step 2. -- Step 3. Profit. It's the middle that is just bashing the bunnies in their fuzzy little tales. The fact that I can't see the counter... All of you who write know what I'm talking about. It's like Linus' blue, security blankey. Fix the damn counter already! That was more complaining and venting by the author. She apologizes profusely.
Thanks for all the support and feedback and offers of pitchers of yummy, frozen concoctions. Donning the flip flops and raising a mug to you all. If you feel the need to vent or ask questions or leave more glorious feedback, press the button.