Finally unable to watch any more, John and Elizabeth quietly slipped off their perch and moved back into the deepening forest. The pilot and soldier felt himself shutting down every thought and sense that wasn't purely devoted to survival. Training and instinct moved to the foreground. It was a mental mechanism that served him well in combat, and especially when flying where uncertainty was a luxury for your chain of command and hesitation got you killed.

But this time there was a problem. Elizabeth walked quietly next to him, still determined to follow his lead and put her trust in his protection, but she kept shooting him expectant looks. Asking without asking what they were going to do next. And that was the problem. He knew exactly what he would do if Dr. Elizabeth Weir weren't standing next to him. He would wait 'til dark, sneak across that damnable plain, find out what the hell happened to his team and get them all out of there.

"We don't leave people behind" wasn't just a catch phrase. It was the guiding principle behind much military strategy and combat training. In hand-to-hand, you didn't learn to fight to win. You learned to fight to a draw, hoping that your buddies would get there first before the other guys' did. You tried to stay alive until help arrived, and every instinct in his body was screaming for him to go help his team.

But Elizabeth was here, Leader of the Atlantis Expedition, and she was his responsibility. Anyone, anyone else would have been better than her. Another science team member he could have left safely hidden away to go on reconnaissance. Teyla or Ronan he would have simply taken with him, and been thrilled for the backup. But Elizabeth, Elizabeth…

He had reasoned with her, he had argued with her, he had tried to stall and intimidate her, but she wanted to come. And in the bitter end, he wanted to let her come, it had meant so much to her. He hadn't been able to bring himself to tell her the real reason she should stay home: She was a liability. She was too important, and protecting her meant he had to abandon his team to do so.

John had taken Special Forces training as well, most chopper pilots had to as the chance of being shot down behind enemy lines was high. That game was played differently. You were taught to completely depend on yourself. You were taught to do what you had to do, no matter how brutal or…evil it seemed to complete the mission. But in that case, no one else was depending on you. You had only yourself and your mission. He felt trapped between two minds, two worldviews, neither one fitting the situation perfectly and leaving him frustrated.

He had to protect Elizabeth. That was his mission, and that meant making it back to the Stargate. Once she was safe he would muster a battalion of his own and blow the crap out of that friggin' pyramid until it coughed up his team…if Major Lorne didn't do it first. Now there was a comforting thought. There was a chance that reinforcements from Atlantis could meet them on the route back to the gate and he could hand her off to return for his people.

Finally resolved to his course, he let training take over. Finding a clearing with a little more light, he dropped to one knee and began to take inventory of his weapons, ammunition, food & water. Watching him, Elizabeth also rummaged through her pockets as he asked her to take note of her supplies as well. She was wearing a standard issue Tac Vest and he was glad he had insisted upon that at least. It meant she had the basics: first aid, flashlight, thermal sheet, radio, 9mil ammo clip, power bars and a canteen that she had filled late in the day from the jumper's reserves.

His own inventory was a bit more…sophisticated and he patted the pocket with C4 and detonators almost lovingly.

Finished, he stood up and answered the question in Elizabeth's eyes. "We're going back to the gate." At her surprised, eyes-wide expression he continued on hurriedly before she could interrupt, "I want to get to the top of this mountain tonight, we'll find a safe place for you to rest while I scout out the road, see if it's passable." He moved as if to head out, reaching for his 9 mil to check the clip and load the chamber. Finally the argument he could sense bubbling up inside her burst out.

"John this makes no sense!"

"It's our only choice. The jumper is cut off, we don't have the ordinance to fight our way to it. We have to lay low, avoid the enemy and try to make it home."

Elizabeth shook her head, a quick negative shake, "No I mean that army…all those soldiers. How could there just suddenly be hundreds of people in that field?"

"I don't care!" She was momentarily taken aback but he quickly saw the surprise replaced with steely stubbornness. He spared the briefest of thoughts for amused respect at how strong-willed she was. It fueled his determination to get her through this. "Look," he added more gently, "I don't begin to understand it. Rodney could give us 10 explanations and write a thesis on each one before breakfast. All I know is that I have to get you out of here. Why they're here or how they got here is irrelevant. The fact that they were carrying really big guns and shooting missiles at us is."

"What about the others?" Her voice was hard.

The rough edges of that decision were still sharp and John suddenly found himself angry, "I'm not going to argue about it!" He snapped, and glaring he shoved the clip back into the 9 mil and thrust it at her, expecting her to take it out of course, his mind already on the path ahead and eager to get moving. Instead, to his great surprise she seemed genuinely flustered as she eyed the weapon warily. She finally stammered, "No, that's Ok….I'd just…no…"

This time it was John who was taken aback and stood foolishly holding out the gun she was almost literally backing away from. "Elizabeth, take it!"

"It's Ok, you keep it." Her voice was almost a whisper.

The sudden snap of a stick and muffled footsteps in the near distance drove his angry exasperation into fear-induced adrenaline. "Go!" he whispered fiercely, pointing out the route he wanted. Elizabeth immediately responded, and they moved as quietly as they could into the deepening evening gloom, the weapon holstered, forgotten, on John's hip.

The 8 Atlanteans sat in terrified silence watching the movement of the vast army suddenly materialized on the plain in front of them. When it just as suddenly vanished some 20 minutes later, they each exchanged worried looks before becoming again lost in their own thoughts. It was Teyla who finally broke the uncomfortable quiet. "Do you think that…display…was for Colonel Sheppard and Dr. Weir's benefit? Part of the Trial?"

Rodney nodded, impressed. "Probably. Perhaps some kind of motivation not to try to come this way, or just to demonstrate the test. I'd bet Sheppard was watching when they appeared on the plain, they must be able to track his movements and project "characters" as needed without expending the power to keep them running perpetually." He paused a moment before muttering sardonically, "And we certainly know whose mind they pulled "images of Violence" from now, don't we…"

"You think the Colonel created those images?" Teyla wasn't sure if Rodney was being accusatory or informative.

"I hardly think Elizabeth on her worst day ever could imagine something like that marching into her living room."

The next hour they spent cramped in the stuffy jumper trying to ignore Rodney's sarcastic commentary and generally foul temper as he disassembled various control panels and power mechanisms, trying to override whatever force was preventing them from leaving. Once the tension became so thick that even the mild-mannered Walker was glaring daggers at the caustic physicist, Teyla decided the risk of the phantom holo-soldiers was worth some fresh air.

Receiving McKay's snide assurances that the holographic characters were unlikely to bother them unless they were somehow incited, she ordered a base camp set up just outside the jumper's rear doors. A crackling campfire and the familiar sight of several temporary, quickly assembled tents or "hooches" did much to improve the group's morale. Or perhaps it was simply that Rodney had left them alone, remaining in the jumper to bully the machinery in private. As per his predictions, the holograms also left them alone with the exception of when they wandered too far from the jumper. A squad of the mysteriously featureless soldiers would appear silently, blocking their path with cold blank looks down their all-too-real looking weapons, only to disappear just as silently the moment they retreated back to the jumper. Jones had gotten quite a scare as he wandered away looking for wood to burn.

Much later, near this planet's midnight, Rodney wearily stumbled out to the campsite and accepted a canteen and a standard issue Meals Ready to Eat or "MRE" gratefully from Teyla, sitting down heavily next to her on the camp blanket she had spread beneath them. Corrigan and Walker were asleep, snoring softly from their shared hooch. Walker it seemed had designated himself medic for the duration, and took the care of his new friend very seriously. The other science members were out of sight, presumably also asleep in their own tents. Jones and Ronan stood on guard nearby and McKay caught a gleam of Ronan's eyes flash in the dying firelight before they flicked away again to scan the empty quiet. It was cool, but not cold and if it hadn't been for the fear and worry clutching at their hearts, it would have been a beautiful summer night.

"I don't see anything wrong, mechanically with the jumper." McKay finally spoke quietly to Teyla, knowing she would wish to know. "As far as I can tell, whoever is running this show can suppress the power pathways, or maybe the control conduits to disable it without actually damaging anything, which is good I suppose. There are massive energy signatures coming from that structure. It's interfering with getting any readings on what specific energy weapons they might be using against the ship."

Teyla nodded, but remained quiet for the moment to allow him to say what he needed. She understood that the more he talked, the less he talked about and had learned through the trials their team had endured to give him time.

"I think tomorrow I'll try to get to that Welcoming Stone thing, see if the writing Elizabeth saw could give us any usable information." They sat together for another long while still silent. Finally Rodney voiced the question she felt he most needed to ask, "What will Sheppard do? I mean, he and Elizabeth are out there wandering around with God knows what chasing them. Wondering why we aren't coming to help…" his eyes were shadowed with guilt.

"Sheppard is a very skilled warrior." Teyla answered confidently. She had been pondering the same question long before Rodney joined her. "He will most likely find shelter for the night as we have, and I guess that he will head for the Stargate in the morning."

"Really? He'd just leave us like that?"

Teyla smiled at the seemingly contradictory protest, "He takes his responsibility to Dr. Weir very seriously. While I'm sure there is nothing he would rather do than come for us, he will first try to get her to safety." Continuing more quietly, and with a hint of worry creeping into her tone, "I have never seen him so…nervous…on a survey mission before."

"Yeah, I got that too. Too bad he was right to be worried. What about all that about "suffering the burdens" of his own "images of violence"?"

Teyla was thoughtful. "I think that if these images were created out of the Colonel's own mind, he will have an even better chance of defeating them."

Rodney nodded, somewhat reassured. "And he'll be able to protect her too?" It was Teyla's turn to nod. After a long moment, Rodney continued, almost whispering, as if speaking to himself. "Elizabeth's special, you know? He knows that, too. There aren't many people, not even on Earth that can do what Elizabeth does on Atlantis. Juggling all the scientists and their egos and the military and their hut-hut chain of command crap. Keeping all of us from killing each other…" His voice drifted off and he played with his hands, not able to meet Teyla's eyes. "She's the best I've ever worked for, and Sheppard is too. They're a good team, and good friends."

"They will survive. And tomorrow you will find a way to help them do so." Teyla's eyes were twinkling as McKay groaned.

"Oh, great. Sheppard's given you his "Manipulating McKay 101" manual. It sucks being right all the time…" He lay back with a flop on the blanket, closing his eyes. "We've missed the window you know. We couldn't leave now for another 6 hours if we wanted to." His voice was weary.

"I know."

Seconds later, McKay was softly snoring on his back.
"Major Lorne, sir?" The voice through the young officer's radio sounded hesitant.

"I'd be hesitant too if I had to wake up my CO." Thought Lorne, who was in fact just tying up his shoelaces. "Good thing I decided to get up early." The clock glowing next to his bunk had just blinked to 0500 and he glared blearily at it for a few moments before finally realizing he hadn't answered the call yet. He hastily touched his earpiece and stifling a yawn replied "Go, ahead."

"Sir, Col. Sheppard's team hasn't reported in yet. They're an hour and a half overdue and the window closes in a little over two hours. You left orders to contact you if they didn't return."

Lorne sighed deeply. He had been dreading this mission for days and was somehow completely unsurprised that they were late. Not only was both the Military commander of Atlantis AND the expedition leader away, but Sheppard had taken McKay, 2nd in command after Dr. Weir, and his own two best marines. While some ambitious men might have jumped at the chance to be left completely in charge of a post as important as Atlantis, even if it was only overnight local time, Lorne was more eager to explore than command.

Only a few minutes later, he was striding into the control room that seemed overly bright and harsh against the dark windows. One sleepy looking tech sergeant was seated at the communications console, and the lieutenant who had contacted him stood at the top of the stairs. With a nod, Lorne dismissed him back to his post by the gate, guarded 24/7, and startled the technician when he ordered "Dial up Colonel Sheppard's team. We'll try calling them first."

Impatiently tapping his foot until the sergeant nervously glanced at it with an annoyed expression, Lorne instead crossed his arms and bounced a bit. Finally watching the satisfying whoosh of the Stargate make contact with its brother on the distant planet, Lorne pounced on the radio. "Colonel Sheppard this is Atlantis base, come in." Waiting only a second or two he repeated, "Dr. Weir, Colonel Sheppard. You are overdue, please report. Is there still a MALP there?" Directing this last to the tech, he was already moving to the console that controlled the remote cameras, thinking again that the jumble of wires and components from Earth looked so out of place amidst the stark and beautiful technology of Atlantis. He twiddled the dials until an image sprung up on the monitor. It was pitch black on the planet, and Lorne could only tell that he was seeing an image from the MALP, rather than a blank screen, by the subtle impression of trees and stones that reflected shapes in the starlight.

"I don't like this…" he muttered to himself. Not that he had expected to see the missing people, they were planning to be working many miles from the gate, but the fact that it was well into night, well beyond "we just got excited about the ruins" excuses, worried him greatly. He chewed his lip, considering his options, then making his decisions, he snapped at the Tech Sergeant who jumped again at the abrupt words. "Keep the gate open for 15 minutes and continue to try to make contact with Colonel Sheppard or Dr. Weir. And wake the day shift early. Get a full crew working here ASAP."

Lorne watched the sergeant hastily comply, thinking "twitchy little guy…" And then he was headed to the duty room to assemble a recovery team, wondering how many times during his career he would be sent or sending people to look for his CO on a faraway planet in the Pegasus Galaxy….

He had given them 30 minutes, it was just past an hour when the recon team was ready and the jumper was packed. Lorne had permitted the extra time to load not only enough ordinance to fight a small war, but to pack food and water as well. If it took longer than the remaining time in the current window for them to search, they would be stuck there at least another 6 hours.

"Dial it up!" He ordered the jittery sergeant, seemingly still determined to finish his shift despite the now complete command crew busily going about their work around him. Longing to be on board with the men on Jumper 2, Lorne fidgeted while leaning on the rail over the gate platform listening to the sing-song whine of the gate locking in symbols. Everyone looked up, however, when instead of the expected swoosh and light show, there was a grinding moan and the locked chevrons flashed before going dark. "Try it again! We're supposed to have at least an hour more on this window!"

Another moan led to a stubbornly dark gate. Lorne whirled to glare at the control room, hoping something or someone local was to blame.

"Everything's clear on our end, sir." The command crew was quick and efficient and left Lorne disappointed there was no one to yell at. "The problem's at the other end. Maybe the window closed early?"

Again chewing his lip, Lorne thought for another long moment, mostly repeating to himself "I SO do not want this job…"

"Sir?" The voice of his recon commander over his earpiece brought him to the present and he responded quickly, "Recon team, stand down. We've lost the window. Stay close by and geared up, we'll keep trying every hour, on the hour. Lorne out."

Taking one last moment to stare at the silent gate, he yelled over his shoulder, "Get Zelenka up here, now!"