Chapter 5
Not Particularly Funny Either…
Caldwell pursed his lips so hard the creases turned white. "Recall all teams immediately," he tersely ordered the Canadian technician. "I'll be heading to the infirmary."
Without waiting for an acknowledgement, he walked briskly from the Control Room.
The Jumper returned and reported the events of P51-868. Things like this made it clear that this job was more than it seemed on paper. Now he knew Weir could have it all to herself upon her return. Now he knew Sheppard could be Santa's little helper upon his return. Now he knew captaining the Daedalus was just fine by him.
Who was he kidding? He loved this. Even though the circumstances were less than desirable, the challenge and the chance to prove he could do this job were satisfying. He would not take it away from them, not like he could. Weir was the best choice for civilian leader. Her pluck and backbone were definite requirements for this job. She could match wits and stand toe to toe with any leader on Earth or here.
This time around he would play it cool and easy. Dare he say it? Yes he would…like Sunday morning. He would not play the part of usurper. He came across as too eager last time. This time, you can trust me, was his motto. I'm here to help. And, that was the God's honest truth- he was.
Reaching the infirmary ahead of the Jumper team, he waited a short while before they were wheeled into the facility. Ronon made eye contact immediately. Caldwell had to hand it to him. Ronon never shrank from a situation, even one where he had bad news to report or an unpopular opinion to give. At such a young age, Ronon had already discovered life was too short. War had that effect on the people.
Maj. Warren stepped up to stand beside the officer to give his report. "We have the coordinates. The order, however, may not be right. I sent Gustafson to the Control Room to start configuring the sequence."
"Very good major. What the hell happened?" Caldwell had pieces. He had the back story on the ambush. What he did not have was how the hell a Wraith dart plucks their people with such precision.
"A spy," Ronon sneered from his gurney. "A shrewd little spy and I missed him."
Caldwell stepped over to the bed. Ronon met his gaze with all the self-recriminations he could muster. "One of the passengers on the wagon." He opened and closed his fists rhythmically and unconsciously. "He must've been sent to find us or keep tabs on us just in case the wagon found us."
"They must have had a dart standing by," added Warren. "Nothing came through the Gate since we secured it. It did not show up on my sensors until it was almost on top of us. My men didn't even have a chance to shoot when it made its pass. Drones would have decimated it and rained the debris all over the townspeople. They caught us with our pants down."
Ronon's anger flared and he hit a tray holding instruments next to his bed. The metal clattering on the floor was oddly and gratingly fitting. He huffed, collected himself and looked back at Caldwell.
"Before I forget…" Ronon shoved his hand into a pocket in his pants. He withdrew it closed tightly only to open it as slowly and reverently as possible. Two sets of dog tags rested on his palm.
"Jones came home on the Jumper. The wagon master retrieved him. Taylor was the one left at the site."
Their eyes never left one another until Caldwell spoke. "We had a detail take care of Pvt. Jones. Thank you for these." He accepted the little wafers of metal. Just like before, he pursed his lips so tightly they went white.
"Quarterback always gets the girl." The non-sequitor wafted across the infirmary. Caldwell and Ronon looked over to Lorne's bed with a quartet of eyebrows raised. "I'm gonna ask Tricia to the Prom. Dad's gonna let me borrow the Buick."
A nurse returned their looks with a little smile. "It's the concussion, sirs."
They nodded in understanding.
The nurse patted Lorne on the shoulder. "Evan…"
He forcefully grabbed her by the arm and raised himself up part way. "Couldn't let him tackle Taylor. Team needs him." His face held the earnest conviction of a job done right. He let her go and lay back down. "Had to protect the quarterback."
Lorne continued to mumble about corsages, tuxes and how big the backseat of the Buick was.
Caldwell and Ronon's lips turned white.
He held the tags so tightly the metal bit into his hands. "I'll let them get you squared away Ronon; we can talk later."
The tension in every muscle on Ronon's body rippled as he gave a single head jerk towards the colonel. With that, Caldwell left.
He confidently strode down the corridor away from the infirmary. The waiting was the hardest part-- waiting for Ford; waiting for the address; waiting for what was left of Weir's team to recover. Patience was a virtue you needed when in command. He still hated waiting.
He activated his ear piece. "Control Room, report."
"Sir, we believe we have the correct sequence and Dr. Zelenka has a suggestion about a MALP."
"What kind of suggestion?" His curiosity was definitely peaked.
"Well, I'll let him try to explain it."
"Col. Caldwell," greeted the slightly accented voice of Zelenka. "As you know, I had Dr. Novak go to Radio Shack last time she was home."
Caldwell silently snickered. He did know. He had even helped to carry the bags aboard the Daedalus. He had to fight off a few able body Marines from opening the boxes and playing with what was inside.
"I've built smaller version, one that's not so bulky." Caldwell could hear the pride shining through the connection. "I patterned it on a Mars Rover."
Zelenka had him intrigued. "I'm almost there." He stopped in front of the transporter and waited for the doors to open. Once he exited in Control, Zelenka scurried up to him.
"This is my little answer to the expensive and dwindling MALPs." Zelenka pointed to a suped-up Hum-V R/C without the chassis on the Gate room floor. There were a few modifications.
It was one and a half meters long and one meter in height. It looked a lot like the Mars Rovers only boxier. A giraffe type neck craned up to extend the height to almost two and a half meters. On top of the neck were a camera and a communications array. Also like the Rovers, it moved around on six wheels. It was quicker and more maneuverable than the gargantuan and sluggish MALP.
"I'm still fitting arms for field work. But, for what we need right now, I don't think they're necessary." He made his little pet do turns and go forwards backwards just to demonstrate.
"Are those flames on the side?" Caldwell asked impressed with the vehicle and amused at the non-militaristic addition.
Radek gave a mischievous and apologetic grin to his feet. "Makes it run better."
"Sure Doc," Caldwell said with a smile before returning to business. "Is it ready to be field tested?"
"As it's going to be." Zelenka looked confident and moved the vehicle in front of the Stargate.
"No time like the present Doctor. Dial it up," ordered Caldwell.
Weir's trust in her people was well placed. One lesson learned.
The Mars MALP entered the puddle and everyone waited for the telemetry.
"Spectacular," whispered Zelenka. "All systems are operating within specified parameters. That is to say, it's doing great!" Zelenka grinned and looked at Caldwell and everyone else in the area in succession. He reigned in his enthusiasm to get down to work of finding the Wraith and their missing team.
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"Dr. Beckett!" Teyla called down the silent corridor. "Col. Sheppard is conscious, but his shoulder is injured. His side is also very…" She tried to figure out how to say gross without causing undo panic. "…weepy."
Teyla looked back at Dr. Weir squatting on the floor next to her second in command. His head rolled around as she asked a few questions.
"Are you hurt anywhere else?" The head rolled again in reply.
"How many fingers am I holding up?" There was a whispered response. Weirs shoulders shook for a moment. "No, the answer is not Thursday, smart ass. Should I put up only one?"
"Besides the tracking device, it does not appear Col. Sheppard has sustained anymore injuries." Teyla relayed with a small smile. She craned her neck so she could hear the voice coming down the hall.
"Teyla, darlin', have you ever performed a reduction?"
"A what?"
"Put an arm back in the socket?"
"Oh. No, but I have watched some of my people perform such a task." Weir and she looked at one another at a loss of what to even do if Beckett asked.
"Never you mind. Try to immobilize it the best ya can. What do you have available?"
Teyla's eyes fell on her jacket. The one Dr. Weir was wearing and already taking off.
"Yes Carson, we have a jacket," replied Elizabeth. She gave Teyla a reassuring smile. "Looks like my modesty gets a work out today."
They followed Carson's directions and secured the jacket to Sheppard.
"Just keep an eye on that cut." Beckett called out.
"That's it! Nothing else? Keep an eye on it? Use a jacket?" Rodney stepped up into Beckett's face.
Looking unimpressed, Beckett retorted, "Yes Rodney, neither one of them has done anything like that before. They could do more harm than good. He has a good radial pulse. So, for right now, we leave it."
Rodney backed down and started pacing.
"They tagged me like a water buffalo Carson. Same for Elizabeth and Col. Sheppard. I'm just a little on edge. Told you we should've waited for the stagecoach. A ride with Wishbone would've been better than land mines. Would waiting three more days really've mattered?"
Beckett looked at the other occupant of the cell. Cavanaugh had his head on his knees. Hoping that Rodney's pessimism and despair did not transfer to the young man, Beckett lowered his voice.
"Rodney…" He should have realized it would have the opposite effect.
"Oh, don't Rodney me! Should've listened to me. Hell, we should've listened to Sheppard. He was right. Elizabeth, Lorne and he should never be on the same team." McKay continued to pace with his arms flailing wildly. "All the senior staff injured or in the hoosegow on a Wraith ship. Brilliant!"
Rodney was winding up. He could hear Teyla making a similar comment in her cell. This was going to be a longer day than originally anticipated.
Teyla's voice interrupted the rant. "Col. Sheppard fervently requests that Dr. McKay calm his, um…ass…down and Dr. Beckett, the next time he says to 'let go', let go." Much to the consternation of the two doctors, she sounded awkward with the phrasing yet amused.
Rodney snorted his displeasure like the proverbial water buffalo.
Beckett shook his head and sighed, a very long day.
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"Ro-onon, Ro-onon." Her smile called to him just like her voice did. "I've missed you." That bright and enticing smile, the one reserved only for him, met him head on.
Her lithe body stepped lightly around the stiff and decaying bodies littering the former Common Gardens of Carado. The bricks stained with blood and the flowers trampled in this once beautiful place-- the place where his unit made their last and futile stand; the place where the Wraith scooped him up in one of their culling beams; the place where his life took a dramatic turn.
"Ronon," her spectral voice floated around him and beckoned to him. "Come home." Deep brown eyes that he had not seen in an eternity blinked. He wanted to run his hand through her hair. He was afraid the illusion would break if he did.
"Melina, you know I can't." He looked away from her and at the buildings surrounding the gardens. They were still intact. Some reached heights of five floors others were even taller. It was a mixture of housing and business. It was wrong. He told her so. "This is all wrong. Gishon, you're dead. All of this is gone."
"You left me…us." She opened her arm to point behind her. Family, friends, unit brothers and strangers he might have seen in passing stood behind her. "I'm lonely. I'm waiting. It's time to come home."
Suddenly, smoke billowed from the encircling buildings and they ruined right in front of him. Just as the buildings crumbled, she withered to a bedraggled shell. Her luminosity and her vitality were replaced by hatred and darkness.
"You left us…me. We died because no one came. No…one…came."
Her face shifted into Sheppard's. "Leave no one behind. Thought I taught you better than that."
Then, it became Teyla's, "We gave you comfort and a home…this is how you repay us?"
Finally, it became McKay's. "Knew you weren't that smart. Couldn't even protect Sheppard or Beckett on an easy rescue."
"Ronon." This voice was clipped and belonged to none of those present in the increasing crowd. "Mr. Dex, you need to wake up." It almost sounded all-knowing, a deity speaking only to him.
His eyes snapped open. The room was unfamiliar-- at first. Then, the where focused and he relaxed.
"It's alright Mr. Dex," Dr. Biro brusquely and not so tenderly said. "You've been very sick, but the drug regiment we have you on seems to be working."
Sick? He did not remember that. He fell asleep and then…No, that was pretty much it.
"Whatever you and Major Lorne picked up on the planet spreads fast. His ramblings from earlier weren't from his concussion. Not completely." She stood up straight. "You both have fevers that are breaking, finally."
He looked into Melina's face. "I'm sorry, Melina."
Biro shook her head, this little critter made the subject hallucinate.
"I can't go back home. Nothing's left."
Teyla stood on the other side. "I'm coming for you. Don't worry, I won't leave anyone behind. Let Sheppard and McKay know."
From his position at the side of the bed, Caldwell gave Biro a puzzled and defeated look. "Not totally better yet are they?" She had called him down to give an update on their conditions which had deteriorated quickly.
"He was lucid for a moment or so I thought." Biro gave the nurse her orders and walked with Caldwell to Beckett's office. "We've had to restrain them both for their safety. I can only hope that Col. Sheppard is not suffering from the same ailment. It's fairly easy to treat, but left untreated…" She let the statement hang in the air.
"But, Beckett's with him," countered Caldwell.
"Yes, but his bag is right here." Biro pointed to a large backpack leaning against Beckett's desk. "Not doing much good here without him."
"This gets better and better. Just, keep me informed." He pursed his lips again for the billionth time. He released them and offered, "Good work and thanks Doctor."
Biro nodded and watched him leave. She sat in her boss' chair. She did not really desire it one bit. This was not the position she wanted. Give her a lab and a nice specimen to puzzle over and her happiness would be assured. There was too much interaction with actual people in this job.
"You're never going on another off-world mission again Dr. Beckett," she whispered to the office as she leaned back in the chair and closed her eyes.
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A/N: Cookies? Well, the author begs on knees for the cookies. Chocolate chip, oatmeal or Oreos with a big glass of milk. She will be forever in your debt. The bunnies have gone in search of carrot cake because of their disappointment with Gopher. I tried to tell them…
Of course, those joined together shall be torn asunder. Wink, wink, nudge, nudge.