As John's internal pedometer indicated they'd hit the 10 mile mark, he began looking for the landmarks he had memorized from his overlook the night before. Uneasy with being on the road this close to a known enemy position, he began leaving Elizabeth behind at bends, scouting ahead himself and then signaling her forward with a wave. They proceeded cautiously like that for perhaps another 20 minutes until he finally spotted the tall dead tree just off the east side of the road he'd been looking for.

Returning to her, he grabbed her hand so he could silently guide her off the path and back into the undergrowth of the deep forest. With any luck they would simply make their way around the blockade, avoiding it and the enemy soldiers completely. Optimistically, they could be back on the road beyond it within the hour. Still pulling her along, he helped her scramble up a fairly steep incline that bordered the natural valley the road was winding through.

Once they reached level ground, and found a dry stream bed they could follow with little vegetation in their way, he let go and moved to his usual forward position, both hands back on the familiar grooves of his P-90. The metal of the powerful weapon felt cold and rough, and he was surprised by the regret he felt at having to drop Elizabeth's hand. He had taken hers to offer support and comfort, and instead felt himself receiving more from her steady trust and dogged perseverance than he seemed to be giving. "You're getting old and soft, John." He thought to himself ruefully, trying to shake off the melancholy and focus on the task ahead.

The streambed was a major advantage, winding along in just the direction they wished to go and offering both a clear path and cover if they needed it. Trying to walk as quietly as he could on the crunchy gravel, he was pleased to hear Elizabeth taking the same care. They were soon at the point where he guessed they were directly alongside the sentry post. Pausing for a long moment, debating with himself, he finally sat against one of the steeper banks and ran a quick weapons check. Whispering to Elizabeth as she joined him he said, "I need to check out their encampment. See if I can tell when they'll be sending out the next patrol, see how many there are…"

Noticing her frown, he was ultimately surprised when she finally said, "I want to come too." He had been expecting "Don't go…"

For some reason he found himself grinning, even as he shook his head. "Stay put. I'll only be 10 minutes." Launching out of the relative shelter of the natural trench, he did take a moment to look back and be certain she had followed his order before he was out of sight.

Only perhaps a quarter mile through the forest he found himself overlooking the road and guard post, the road having cut through a gentle hill leaving a steep wall of rock below him. It was a great place for a barricade, he decided. The slopes on either side of the road prevented any chance of easy escape in those directions. Unless you left the road well ahead of the natural formation as he had, you'd be hard put to gun your way through. The post itself was only a campfire, a tent and what looked like a trunk of supplies. Six soldiers were in sight, two of which were stationed facing up the road, looking alert, weapons ready to bear. Two others were moving casually around the campsite.

The last two were the ones John was most interested in. They seemed to be gearing up for a hike, loading canvas duffle-shaped backpacks and stretching a little. Sure enough, after only a minute of watching, they waved to their colleagues and shouldering their own weapons smartly, they marched off "downstream" in the direction he himself would soon be heading. Pleased with the bit of luck, he checked his watch carefully to mark the time, hoping he could eventually get a bead on their sentry patterns and then stealthily turned away.

Elizabeth watched John launch himself out of the streambed and crossing her arms petulantly almost found herself tapping her foot with impatience. She had wanted to go too. Not to keep an eye on John or out of fear of being alone, but because she was restless. She needed to feel more in control of her situation, it was unusual for her to be so dependent on anyone else for so long. Sighing and finally deciding that there was enough to worry about without getting angry with John, again, she drew up her knees and tried to rest. In fact, the break from the steady walking did feel rather good.

It wasn't until a few minutes later when she decided to try lying out like John seemed to prefer that she caught a glint of something shiny resting on a tangle of tree roots sticking out of the earthy bank: John's 9mil within easy reach. With a startled laugh, she couldn't settle on whether to feel infuriated or insulted. Deciding instead that she had finally met someone very nearly as stubborn as herself she found it all the more amusing. When true to his word he returned in 10 minutes, she was quietly resting against the bank, eyes closed, the weapon untouched.

McKay and Teyla looked at Dr. Corrigan warily out of the corner of their eyes. So far the ruse was working…

After spending most of the morning puzzling out the grammar of some of the unknown languages, in particular the language also found on the Ziggurat itself, Corrigan and McKay had bounded towards the panel Rodney had spent so much time in front of already. The only markings they had found on the otherwise featureless building were written in a shallow alcove directly at the end of the steps, which in turn flowed out of the end of the ancient roadway. They had been eager to see what they could puzzle out with their new information.

It was therefore a complete surprise when a squad of the now all-too-familiar soldiers had appeared barring the way past the bottom step. Seeming to be guarding the panel itself, the soldiers had even opened fire as Rodney tried his "not up to anything" routine on them, sending the two Atlantis scientists scurrying back to the jumper.

A long tense conversation had followed, with many glances back at the alcove still guarded by the holograms that seemed unwilling, this time, to disappear. Corrigan had finally insisted that he try to get at least close enough to see the writing and work on translating what he could. Teyla, Ronan and Walker had stood nervously watching the still shaky anthropologist wander casually down the steps with nothing but Rodney's tablet computer under his arm. When the soldiers, also watching closely, began to raise their weapons, Corrigan stretched and performed an exaggerated yawn, finally sitting down on the step right where he had been standing. The soldiers had finally lowered their arms, and shifted back to "at ease" positions.

As McKay watched, Corrigan slowly and casually set the tablet on his knees and squinted towards the panel, eventually beginning to type and becoming more and more engrossed in his work.

With a sigh, Rodney breathed, "I think he's done it!"

"Dr. Corrigan is indeed very brave!" Teyla's praise was warmly spoken. Finally it seemed they were making some progress, for if the panel was so important it was worth guarding, then surely they were on the right track in learning about it.

Finding himself with nothing to do for the moment, McKay was something at a loss. Thinking yet again, "I wish Elizabeth were here," he glanced one last time to be certain Corrigan was still safe. Dr. Weir's knowledge of languages and expertise with Ancient in particular would be of incredible help as they tried to understand the new panel. But, Rodney supposed, if she were here, they wouldn't be here desperately trying to translate it, so he wouldn't be wishing she were here… Getting lost in his own circular train of thought, he decided that maybe he should just have lunch.

He wandered to the jumper to rummage out some rations, then decided to sit near the campfire, cold and black as it was. Nearly everyone was elsewhere, either standing guard, or in the case of the remaining science team, in the jumper itself working on the sensor command pathways, trying to get power to…anything. Perhaps he would go help them after he ate he decided. Not long later, Walker and Jones wandered by in their slow patrol pattern around and around the campsite, chatting idly.

"No, seriously, you think anyone's going to believe that we've been stuck on a damn holo-deck for 2 days?"

"Sure, this galaxy is friggin' nuts. Anything can happen. Most of the guys have had weird shit go down offworld. What's a 'holo-deck'?"

"You know, from that space show. My nerdy kid brother watched it all the time. Dudes were always hanging out on the holo-deck, made people appear and stuff. Too bad we can't just turn all these assholes off too."

"Oh sure. Was that the one with the hot shrink?"

"Totally, that chick had the biggest…"

"WHAT DID YOU SAY?" Rodney's flash of insight, propelled him off the ground to pounce at the two marines. Jones froze, his hands in a rather peculiar formation in front of his chest and blushing furiously could only stammer "I apologize, SIR! It won't happen again sir."

Confused, Rodney frowned, then shook his head a little, "No, what did you say about turning them off?"

Jones glanced at Walker as if to say "huh?" but replied anyway, "I just said wouldn't it be great if we could turn the hologram soldiers off…too…" He trailed off as Rodney turned and ran away in mid-answer.

Rodney's mind was racing a million miles an hour as he wandered through the camp looking for Teyla. "Holo-deck", he kept thinking, "why didn't I see it as a holo-deck?" Finally spotting her he raced up and blurted out, "We have to get to a drone. If we can launch a drone or even more than one, I think we can take out the satellites controlling the holograms and maybe even free the jumper!"

Clearly taken aback, Teyla could only stare and utter a confused, "What are you talking about, Dr. McKay?"

Trying to slow down enough to explain, his words still came out in a breathless rush, "This whole place is a platform for holographic manipulation, at least as far as between here and the gate but possibly the whole planet as well. A holo-deck!" At her blank expression, Rodney slouched in an annoyed show of exasperation, but continued on, "That probably means something above the surface of the planet is broadcasting the images, satellites probably, or maybe a network of energy platforms in geo-synchronous orbit. It all fits. The energy readings here in the ziggurat don't fluctuate because it is not generating the characters directly, the remote satellites are…"

Teyla finally caught up and with a surge of excitement of her own she interrupted, "And if we destroy some of these satellites, they will no longer be able to create the soldiers on the ground. Colonel Sheppard and Dr. Weir can reach the gate unchallenged!"

"Yes! And if we're lucky, they're also what's holding the jumper down and we'll be able to fly out of here as well."

"By all means! Proceed Rodney!"

Rodney's triumphant grin faded a little as the thrill of the discovery faded into the reality of the effort involved…effort he now needed to reveal to Teyla. "Um, well, it probably won't be that easy. If the jumper's disabled to the point we can't extend the drive pods or even less likely fire the drones directly, then we'll have to…sort of…take apart the jumper, retrieve the drones, cobble together a way to fire the drones without a direct interface, and, um put the jumper back together again before we can fly out."

Teyla's sigh of resignation was filled with frustration and barely concealed sorrow. "Then, by all means, begin…"

Bypassing the second sentry station wasn't going so well, Elizabeth thought. She almost snorted out loud at the understatement.

They'd been spotted approaching the guard post, this time situated in a broad meadow. John had remembered the feature from the flight in, but of course had no way of knowing that was where the enemy forces would be. It was a damn good spot for a roadblock, she thought, even knowing nothing about military strategy. The road bisected the almost perfectly circular space, leaving no cover for many yards, and making the way around many more steps than they would have liked.

Not that that mattered now. The alert guards from the sentry post were stationed close to the point where the road spilled into the meadow. Staring intently down the road, they had caught a glimpse of John as he cautiously rounded a rather sharp bend, repeating the scout-ahead routine as he had before. Shouting, the two sentries had given pursuit and John had no choice but to run back down the road to yank Elizabeth into the forest.

They were running pell-mell with the sound of the two pursuers behind them, brush and twigs catching their pants as they tore through, unable in their haste to attempt stealth. The guards were calling to each other and Elizabeth could hear them trying to organize their chase when John jerked her so hard in a new direction, she did a kind of long legged lurch before regaining her pace. "Sorry," he breathed softly sounding neither sorry nor apologetic, and was next leaping over a long fallen log to crouch behind it, pulling her to sit down too even before he whispered the command.

She sat panting with her back to the spongy bark, John close next to her resting his weapon and his torso over the top, watching in the direction they had come. She heard him hold a sharp intake of breath before the staccato crackle of his rapid-fire weapon brought her hands to her ears. John ducked and sprinkles of bark flew around them as the barrage of return fire splattered against the rotting wood. "Shit!" she heard him curse fiercely to himself, "when the hell did they get automatics?" A second later she exclaimed "Ouch!" and jerked her arm as if stung by a bee.

The instant the return fire paused John popped back up and with a perfectly executed sweep of his weapon's muzzle, removed the 2nd and final pursuer from the equation. The echoes of the last rounds reverberated for a long while over the silent landscape. Standing back, P-90 aimed high at the forest canopy and breathing hard as if he'd been spooked, John looked down with horrified eyes at Elizabeth who was indifferently poking at the matched set of holes through her jacket sleeve. "You Ok?" The plaintive query choked with worry drew her away from the interesting holes to look him in the face. Surprised by the fear she saw there, she hastily answered, "Yes, it's just a scratch. Mostly just went through the jacket, I think it went through the log first…" Mostly she just wanted to forget it, before the numbness wore off and realization of the close call actually sunk in.

He seemed to be struggling with…something… anxiety or anger she couldn't tell which. Finally he managed to say, "We have to go, they'll follow the gunfire this way." She stood up immediately and stepped close, indicating she was ready. Her quick response seemed to reassure him somewhat but he took a moment longer to inspect the very minor wound with a suddenly gentle touch. She watched him as she held her arm up, but he wouldn't meet her gaze.

Still avoiding a direct look, he shouldered his weapon with an angry snap and they began making their way again through the undergrowth. When Elizabeth noticed the open patch of light to their right, she understood that he was leading them around the rim of the meadow, still hoping to circle back to the road past the sentry post. Unfortunately, the rest of the detail at the post had anticipated such a move. She caught a glimpse of a soldier quietly stalking through the tall grass just beyond the tree line even as she realized John had already frozen, his right hand clenched into a fist and raised to shoulder level. She took another two quiet steps to draw nearer, which earned her a thoroughly disgusted look from Sheppard.

Together they crouched waiting to see what the tan-clad soldier would do, all too aware that they were within sight should he look in just the right direction. For a moment it seemed he was going to wander away…right before he squinted in their direction and eagerly raising his weapon, took a single step closer. A POP sounded above Elizabeth's left ear and the soldier fell back, managing a cry as he dropped. Then John was dragging her up and she was stumbling after, continuing to stare at the downed man even as she ran, horrified fascination transfixing her until they were out of sight of the meadow altogether.

In only a few yards more they hit a trickling creek, and with an audible sigh of relief, John jumped down the bank, turning back to offer Elizabeth a supporting hand as she also landed. He turned downstream to jog along the gravel beach. They were heading away from the meadow and the road she realized, feeling a sense of unease as they left the only path she knew in the unfamiliar landscape. After following their babbling guide for 20 minutes or so, with no sounds of pursuit, John finally slowed down, relaxing somewhat and shaking out his arms as if after a sprint at a sporting event.

"Where are we going?" She asked at last, the uncertainty of their direction preventing her from feeling quite the sense of closure that John seemed to feel.

"We'll follow this creek until it joins back up with the road downstream. It snakes around and they cross several times."

She narrowed her eyes at him, suspicious that he was making it up just to reassure her, "How can you know that!"

"I saw it from the jumper."

"You noticed from 100 feet in the air, going 100 miles an hour that this creek goes in this direction back to the road?"

Not noticing or choosing to ignore her dubious sarcasm, he simply shrugged without turning and said, "Yes."

Dumb with admiration at his talent and in awe of his modest disregard for the skill she found simply incredible, she stumbled a few steps, staring at his back agape. Born and raised…

Still unable to shake the anxiety of the firefight she had just lived through she was unsettled by his ability to shoot, presumably kill, three people then walk on down the road. "So much for treading lightly," she thought. She rubbed at the scratch on her arm, feeling again the sting and seeing again the bark flying around her. A small angry voice, deep in her mind replied, "So much for leaving us the hell alone..."

They reached the road again and found it dim and empty, the tall closely packed trees of this part of the forest already casting long shadows as the sun dipped into late afternoon in the West. Days were short on this planet and they had at least two, maybe three more hours of walking to reach the bridge.

John could sense Elizabeth growing more and more tired as they marched on and on. Hell, he was tired, and he did this sort of thing all the time. Although, he admitted, he usually had enough warning to bring along more substantial rations than a handful of Power Bars and the single MRE he'd surprised Elizabeth with for an evening meal. Still grinning at the very unladylike haste with which she had devoured her half, even his growling stomach agreed it had been worth it to "lose" the coin toss over dessert and watch her enjoy the treat.

It would be dark when they reached the bridge, he decided, trying to think through their options once they reached the sure-to-be-guarded crossing. The enemy had been too damn efficient in placing their sentry posts so far, and he expected no less ahead. And they had to get across. Tonight.

He had kept silent track of the gate windows, as he knew them from Rodney's original predictions, throughout the night and day. His tension rose and fell as each mark passed, expecting to see a fleet of jumpers fly overhead at the beginning of every open window, regret and frustration peaking at every close. The window he was worried about would shut down around midday tomorrow, and if they didn't make it by then, they'd be trapped again until nightfall. They couldn't afford to miss it.

A small part of him was beginning to worry about the gate itself, because he knew that Lorne would spare no effort in trying to get here. Imagining a gate surrounded by another battalion of troops and the wrecked remains of crashed jumpers was a distraction, he decided, and he pushed the images from his mind.

Night fell and the chirping birds were replaced by the softer sounds of nocturnal creatures. John and Elizabeth drew close together, both for safety and, though neither of them would admit it even to themselves, for the comfort of each other's presence.

There was no need to creep the last mile this time. The road made a sudden dramatic descent to the river valley and, for a moment, they had a clear view of the next 2 miles ahead. A wide slow river sparkled in the starlight below and the twinkle of campfires winked as figures moved around them, occasionally blocking the light.

They had reached the bridge.