A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Jumper…
Carson Beckett- doctor, geneticist, space explorer and hurler of lunch- sat in the Puddle Jumper with his eyes clenched shut. He white knuckled the armrests of the seats and said a Hail Mary. Upon exiting the puddle- when his eyes were still open- a solid wall of rock blocked their way. He closed his peepers decisively. He was very happy to be the passenger instead of the pilot on this trip. After that ninety degree trajectory, inertial dampeners and closed eyes were not enough to prevent his lunch from trying to make an appearance.
Even with the therapy, there were only a handful of true Jumper pilots on Atlantis or on the Daedalus, which is where his pilot was from. Beckett concluded, correctly, he was a driver not a flyer. After that maneuver, the difference was as glaringly obvious as the difference between an American beer and an English stout. He would stick to the doctoring and convince the others that he should only stick to the doctoring as well.
"You can open your eyes now Dr. Beckett," said his pilot with a trace of amusement in his voice.
"Are ya sure there?" He kept his eyes tightly shut.
"We're above the cliffs. Today Doc, we aren't the bug on the windshield or the beer can on the forehead."
Beckett allowed one eye to look out the windshield and then the other. He let out the deep breath he had been holding since the solid, granite surface loomed back at them.
"Doc, why don't we try and contact the team again?"
Beckett nodded. Col. Sheppard and Dr. Weir's group was now two and a half hours overdue. He listened as the pilot tried the radios. Being on the planet did not change the static coming across the airwaves.
He looked back at the other two passengers- a field medic and a sergeant for protection. The Jumper and the personnel on it were only part of the search team. Soon after Caldwell's conversation with Ford, the colonel tried Dr. Weir's team on the planet. When no response came, he sent a search team. They radioed back the grave news of an ambush site with nary a sign of a living soul. After the report, one set of reinforcements was sent to guard the Gate and two other teams were searching the road and the river.
With eight members of the team missing and one gruesomely discovered near the blast site, tension was high. Unfortunately, identification of the one would have to be from a test tube- best not to think about who it could be right now. Others needed his help or so he prayed.
At Caldwell's command, he packed a kit together and met the rest in the hangar bay. After brief introductions, they loaded everything and prepared for departure. They warned him that exiting the Stargate was going to be interesting. Interesting his left nu...foot. Suicidal was more like it.
He looked back out the windshield and scanned the terrain. Why, he did not know. It was not as if he could spot anything at the speed they were traveling.
"We'll be setting down in a field just outside of town. Then, we'll make our way to the town square. Let's hope someone knows something." The pilot began angling the craft towards an empty area about a mile from Yarben.
Beckett could not remember the pilot's name. He thought it might be Warren, but was not real sure. Hopefully, someone would say it so he could at least address the man properly. He hated to think he needed to ask. Introductions had already been given.
The Jumper remained cloaked as they left the craft and started on the main road. The locals must have been waiting. They met the team at the outskirts of town.
"Are you from Dr. Weir's people?" A man with black hair and an honest smile asked.
Warren, he would go with Warren until he knew better, answered, "Yes. We were getting worried and came to find her and the rest of our people. Is she alright?"
The man pursed his lips, "I'm sorry to say, I don't know." He slowed down and turned to walk back to the village with them. A small, sad smile played on his face. "Maybe Col. Sheppard or Mr. Dex can answer your questions."
Warren tensed at the news of Weir and relaxed slightly with the mention of Sheppard.
"What about the others?" Carson squeaked as they continued to follow the man.
"Col. Sheppard, Mr. Dex and Maj. Lorne are the only ones who arrived by the wagon. Tram, the driver, said he found them about an hour away by conveyance." Warren and Beckett nodded in reply. "My name is Narmit, assistant to the Counselor. I worked with Dr. Weir during the negotiations. I really respect her abilities and am sorry this has happened."
Beckett listened attentively and politely, but he was itching to ask about the health of the three men. Warren asked another question before he could ask his.
"I'm Major Harold Warren. Pleasantries aside, what exactly happened?"
Beckett gave a small sigh of relief. One question answered.
"From what Mr. Dex and Col. Sheppard related, they were attacked on the road to the Great Ring by humans using Wraith weapons. I assure you gentlemen; our community had nothing to do with it."
Warren hitched his eyebrows at the statement. Whether it was in disbelief or not, Beckett did not know. Personally, right now, he did not care. Patients needed him and he decided to interrupt.
"Where're our people?"
Narmit gestured towards a large wooden building, "They arrived in town a few ticks of the sundial before we saw you coming up the road. We took them immediately to the hospital. Our menders are looking after them."
"I need to see them immediately," said Carson as forcefully as possible without sounding like he was commanding. There was not a need for that- yet.
"Of course…" Narmit looked inquiringly at him.
"Dr. Beckett."
"As you wish Dr. Beckett, let's not waste anymore time."
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"Ronon, Ronon, it's time to wake up lad."
He knew that voice. It was a sound for sore ears. Even though the voice sounded like it was coming through water and his ears hurt, they seemed to finally work.
Ronon cracked an eye open and grinned. "I can hear you Beckett."
Beckett looked perplexed for a second and then nodded.
"Lost our hearing after an explosion, it's back now." Ronon looked around. "How's Lorne?"
"He has a nasty concussion and his back looks like hamburger, but he woke up for a few seconds."
Ronon tried to sit up.
"No, just lay back and let me have a look at that leg, lad." He felt and heard Beckett rip the pants leg. Then the doctor did something extremely painful to it. He grabbed it.
"Sheppard?" Ronon tried not to sound too strained as he asked about his team leader.
"Exhausted, cranky, and worried. He asked the same questions as you." Beckett looked up at him before talking again. "Are you up to briefing Maj. Warren?"
"Can it wait until…" Ronon flinched again as Beckett tried to rip the skin off the remnants of his shin. "…you're done?" His voice went up an octave at the all encompassing pain.
Beckett gave a small laugh, "Of course, laddie."
Thirty minutes later Ronon relayed the events on the roadway.
"Damn it. We received a message from Lt. Ford about three hours ago warning us of something like this." Warren took off his cap and ran his hand through his light brown hair.
"Do you think he had anything to do with this?" Ronon asked growing angry. He nearly growled out the question. Ford was a nuisance and traitor to his people. Sheppard still held onto a miniscule amount of hope the lieutenant would come home. As more time passed, even Sheppard knew that was becoming more unlikely.
"We don't know. He's supposed to call back tomorrow. A Wraith Hive is supposed to be planning something big. Ford was going to let us in on what he knows." The major's gaze shifted to Beckett. "I'll bring the Jumper in closer, over there." He pointed out the window to an open area outside of town. "It's time to get them home Doc."
Beckett nodded in agreement. "Col. Sheppard and Ronon can walk, but we need to carry Maj. Lorne."
"Understood sir." The major left and the other two with the help of a few locals readied Sheppard, Dex and Lorne.
Beckett said thank you and waited for the signal from Warren. When it came, the medic and other soldier lifted the stretcher and started towards the Jumper.
Groggy, but awake, Sheppard looked at Ronon. "Go with them. Beckett and I'll be along directly." He gave an intoxicated smirk as Beckett made sure all bandages were firmly in place and his arm securely immobilized.
Ronon did not move.
"We're right behind you. Go and get off that leg."
Ronon's eyes narrowed, but he complied. Reluctantly, he trailed after the litter. Beckett gave him some nice drugs so the leg was quietly aching. He stepped out into the sunshine and looked around. A crowd had gathered to stare at the Puddle Jumper. This was another planet that had never seen a friendly aircraft. In the crowd, he spotted the young man who had given him water in the wagon.
The young man waved to Ronon and yelled, "Looks like you're finally going home!" Ronon gave him a smile and a nod for an answer just before entering the back of the Jumper.
True to his word, Sheppard hobbled along the road with Carson to where the Jumper was parked. Ronon was not sure what sense he used, but something struck him as odd. Maybe the drugs slowed his reaction or the relief at the sight of the Jumper cooled his highly honed paranoia, but he missed something. He knew it the second he entered the craft.
His mind shifted through images of his traipse from the hospital. It settled on one little incongruity. The shirt the water boy was wearing did not lay right. Damn my softness.
The young man's voice calling Sheppard by name added to his unease. Ronon reversed himself and skipped out of the Jumper as fast as his leg would allow. Cleanly, he pulled his weapon looking for a target. The events of the next seven seconds ordered themselves in his increasingly blurry vision.
First, he saw Sheppard trying vainly to push Beckett away from him. The water boy approached the pair from the crowd to Ronon's right. Members of the crowd filled in the area between the hospital and the Jumper to block his view, but Sheppard's actions told him all he needed to know about the young man's intentions.
Second, he saw Beckett clutching Sheppard's arm and looking with terror in the opposite direction. He pulled on Sheppard just as hard as Sheppard pushed. No ground gained by either side. It would have been comical if the situation was not what it was.
I'm slow, too damn slow.
Third, the young man shot Beckett and Sheppard point blank with a hand-held stunner. The delayed internal alarms blared with the movement of the kid's arm. At the same time, Warren shouted an unwelcome warning behind him.
"Incoming!"
The fourth and final sight made Ronon roar and fire his beloved at the conniving, little speck of filth regardless of who was in the way. It missed as the dart scooped up all three along with a few hapless townspeople.
Too little, too late. Ronon roared even louder at the now empty sky.
He spun back towards the Jumper moving as fast as possible. Screaming from the crowd and the major ordering those near the Gate to memorize the address or face a fate worse than death bombarded his newly functioning ears.
"Go! Go! Go!" Ronon yelled once he was safely inside.
Perfect and complete failure. Now, he had lost the two men he owed for this new life.
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If it was possible, the halls appeared even more sinister.
"What did she mean, doesn't want to lose us?" Rodney openly if not nervously wondered.
"Keep track of us somehow?" Elizabeth openly if not nervously wondered.
They both stopped.
"Oh no, no, no, no. They're not sticking any device in me!" Rodney shouted. He spun around to try and fight his way past the two huge, massive, monolithic guards. Neanderthal stunned him without batting an eye.
A second later, even before reacting to their common revelation, Elizabeth felt her nervous system overload as her consciousness fled for its life.
Teyla's worried face was the next sight before her eyes.
"Dr. Weir, it is good to see you awake." The worry in her tone did not leave as Teyla spoke of her relief.
A dull ache formed between Elizabeth's shoulder blade and spine. The pins and needles feeling tingled full force masking the rest of the ache. The mask fell away when she tried to sit up. A sharp pain formed and she grimaced while inhaling quickly through her teeth.
"A tracking device, they put a tracking device in me…us," she corrected through her clenched teeth. Her hand went in search of the spot. Teyla grabbed her wrist to stop her.
"It is there." She looked sorrowful now and took off her jacket. She handed it to Elizabeth.
Then and only then, did Elizabeth realize she was just in her sports bra with uniform pants and shoes. She accepted the jacket.
"And, Dr. McKay has one too," added Teyla.
"Where's Rodney?" Weir asked as she slipped her arms into the jacket sleeves.
"In a cell two doors down. Cpl. Cavanaugh and I have been communicating." She steadied Elizabeth in a seated position before continuing. "There is more. Dr. Beckett was brought in a short while ago. He is, at the moment, unconscious in the same cell as Dr. McKay and Cpl. Cavanaugh."
Now, it was time to panic.
"But, Carson wasn't with us on the planet. They must've sent a rescue." She organized her thoughts out loud. "Why only him or are there others?"
On cue, Cavanaugh's voice drifted down the hall in a loud whisper, "Teyla! Dr. McKay and Dr. Beckett are waking up."
A second cue raced down the hall, a loud and pain filled howl. Elizabeth and Teyla exchanged looks. They recognized that voice…
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The owner of that howl categorized this as one of the top ten worst days he had ever had. Whatever topped this, he did not want to find out about. The bastards waited for him to wake up before they started digging to China. And, seeing as China was in another galaxy and a loooong way off, it felt none too good.
The nice meds Carson gave him on the planet did not thwart the pain of Count Chocula slicing into his back with a dull cereal spoon. Now, the bastard was moving onto the quilting bee and closing up his handiwork. Thus, his fourth day of crying in his adult life commenced. No shame in that now is there?
His side injury burned and his shoulder was positioned at an odd angle. He did not know whether to pass out or throw up. He was wishing for the former and guessing on doing the latter.
He did not have long to dwell on his choices before a large cold hand landed on the back of his neck to pull him off the table. The cold hand's companion grabbed his right arm and pulled. It popped.
Decision made- throwing up it is.
His legs threw up the white flag and the drone-- which shall now be referred to as Jason-- dragged him down a hall by that same newly re-dislocated arm and shoulder.
When do I pass out? Please let me pass out, he thought as he twisted behind Jason.
Was he not thinking earlier that luck was on his side for once? Lady Luck apparently did not have a thing for him or was she just playing hard to get? He would have to let Rodney in on this little query.
Dropped into a cell, he finally threw up. Finishing, he cleared his mouth and ground his forehead into the floor. Then, he flipped gently over onto his back keeping his eyes closed.
Back to the other question-- when do I pass out? I'm so due.
"John?" The easily identifiable voice seemed so far away. It asked a ridiculous question. "John, are you alright?"
Sheppard replied as facetiously as possible with a throat that was doubly raw, "No, Elizabeth. It's been a bitch of a day."
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A/N: Oh fortuna! The counter's working. Now all is right with the world. Express your joy at this development, clink glasses of cool, tropical beverages and leave a note. The bunnies are in search of Gopher. I tried telling them he's not a real gopher. They just won't listen.
You all so rock!