There was a point when Atlantis finally told him to stop. He had been pushing the boundaries of Goa'uld and Wraith territory for a lifetime, the only general who wasn't afraid to attack. His crew were steadfast and loyal, and would do anything for him.

But even with his crew, duty came before family.

He was on the bridge of the Labyrinth when they came for him. His first mate approached cautiously, backed by armed guard, and he knew immediately something was wrong.

"Sir," the man started, "we are under orders from Atlantis to bring you in to stand trial."

He stiffened, his hand straying towards the gun on his belt. "What am I being charged with?" he demanded.

"Defying orders and … treason."

He kept his voice quiet, but his first mate quailed under his gaze. "In what way have I committed treason?"

"It's not for me to say, sir," the man replied, his voice quavering. "I only have orders that I am to take over command of the Labyrinth, effective immediately, and we are to head to Atlantis for your trial."

"And the rest of the crew?"

The first mate took a deep breath. "They stand with Atlantis."

The betrayal in those four words hit him with a force that almost took his breath away.

"Then you know I will refuse to go quietly," he finally said.

"We know."

He drew his weapon faster than the men flanking the first mate, firing as he ducked and rolled across the bridge behind a console. The pilot at the front of the bridge had also drawn his weapon and was reaching over to fire at him when he shot the man point blank in the face.

All across the bridge the crew were taking cover and firing their own weapons at him. They had known. This had been planned.

He had made sure that everyone was armed at all times, always prepared for battle. He also knew that Atlantis would have ordered he be taken alive.

He had nothing to lose.

Taking a quick look over the console, he saw the crew spread out, but then the doors to the bridge opened and ten of his best guards entered. He sighted and fired on the first man, who didn't flinch as his personal shield flickered.

Cursing, he leaped over the console, both feet slamming into the chest of the lead guard and knocking him to the floor as he tackled the next one, shoulder solidly in the man's gut. Even the shield could not stop his momentum, and they fell to the ground in a tangle of limbs.

Then there were hands on him, and he grabbed for his knife, slashing and stabbing at the bodies surrounding him. Sometimes the blade made impact with soft flesh, but most of the time it bounced harmlessly off the shields.

They forced him to the ground, and even then he refused to submit.

Days later, when they dragged him, still fighting, to stand before the Council of Atlantis, his white uniform was in disarray, and he was covered in blood and bruises. He had to be shackled to the stand to keep him from attacking the Council members.

But he no longer cared.

"General Icarus," the lead Council member addressed him. "You have heard the accusations that stand against you. You know that we have banished your uncle, Janus, for his actions. We can do the same for you. We can find you a world where you can live out the rest of your life in peace, with the only provision that you must leave Atlantis and you must never lead an army again."

"Send me to Earth," he responded immediately.

The Council member shook his head. "You know that is the one world you can never return to."

"You took it from me," he spat. "You took my wife and children. You took my life from me. You did this to me."

"And you know that your great sacrifice was for the common good of our people."

"But what about my people? The family I left behind? You didn't even let me say goodbye."

"It could not be helped. You were warned that this might happen. It was your choice to integrate with the natives and become one of them. And unfortunately, your heroism has made you a legend to them. Because of this, you know you cannot return or they will also hail you as a god."

He stilled, lifting his chin and aiming his steely gaze at each Council member in turn.

"Then I choose the fate that the humans of Earth believe Icarus fell to."

Silence fell over the room.

"You choose death?" the Council member asked quietly.

"I would rather die than live under this lie," he answered bitterly. "The Council's orders were to eliminate the enemy. I have done so and continue to do so. Despite this, you have betrayed me. I have never committed treason. I have never wanted to overthrow the Council. I live only to serve you and to fight our enemies, and even then you deem that this is not enough. I cannot live under a people who condone such beliefs."

The Council was silent for long moments, then the leader nodded slowly. "So be it, Icarus. Know that your existence will be purged from our records, that no one will know of your feats or your life. There will be nothing left of you except the legend on Earth. And even then, all will doubt that Icarus was a man of flesh and blood. We turn our backs to you in a solemn oath to never pursue an enemy as ruthlessly as you have done. You will live only in legend. May all here learn from your mistakes. Icarus will be known forever as the man who flew to the sun full of pride and fell to the earth for his sins."

Icarus drew his shoulders back, head high.

"So be it."

Teyla, Ronon, McKay, Keller, and Woolsey watched the enraged Colonel below them in dismay.

They had transferred Sheppard to an observation room, and it was eerily reminiscent of when Ronon had gone through his withdrawal so many months before. This time, however, Sheppard had needed much stronger restraints. He had broken through the first five-points they had set up, so Keller had ordered more. He was strapped down so firmly he could barely move now, but he was angry — cursing and struggling since the moment he woke up.

"How long will this take?" Woolsey asked.

Keller sighed. "I'm hoping after a few days he'll have enough of the drug out of his system that we can give him something to help calm him down. Right now I can't give him anything but the drug. His metabolism is still too fast for anything else to work."

She had performed a quick surgery with McKay's help to remove the device from Sheppard's back. Now, his arms needed to be strapped firmly down to keep the needles in his veins that were feeding him the drug.

Keller had realized that the drug was most effective when connected to Sheppard's spinal cord, and in order to bring the dosage down they needed to switch to intravenous.

When Sheppard needed a boost or when he was injured, the drug switched from the nervous system to deposit directly into his blood. In a way, what they had done had made him stronger, but she was hoping that it was a brief problem as it seemed that the drug didn't last long once it was in his circulatory system.

As it was, Sheppard had been strapped to the gurney for nearly 24 hours since they removed him from his cell. He was conscious through it all, and he was enraged.

He never addressed anyone by name. He never called for Ronon, McKay, Teyla, or anyone else. And based on how his language changed, Icarus had taken over.

"I call down the gods' greatest curses on you for the damage you have done!" he screamed. "May they smite the city of Atlantis with the fire from the hottest suns and wipe you all from the face of history! May crows eat your unburied corpses and may you never find rest in Hades!"***

And as time went on, he became less and less coherent. It was as if he had completely lost his mind to whatever the drug had done to his system, and Keller was afraid to voice her fear that they might not get the same Colonel back at the end of the ordeal as the one who had gone through the Stargate over two months ago.

"How is he doing?" Woolsey nodded to the monitor at Keller's side.

Keller sighed. "Not good — physically at least. Mentally I have no idea, and we won't know until we finish with these first few rounds. Physically, his heart rate is through the roof. He has a normal resting heart rate of an athlete — around 40 beats per minute. But now I haven't seen it dip under 170, and it's been climbing. We aren't in the danger zone yet but the constant stress is going to be a problem if we can't get him to calm down."

"Want me to stun him again?" Ronon asked.

"I'd rather we wait," Keller replied. "We need to let the drugs filter out of his system, and I don't know if it's better if he's awake or unconscious for it, yet. We just don't know enough. We don't even know if this is going to work at all."

"It will work," Teyla said reassuringly. "I have faith in you, Dr. Keller."

"We might need more than faith for this to work," Keller sighed.

Below them, something seemed to change, and the doctor threw a glance at the monitor, then flew out of the room.

"What's going on?" Woolsey demanded.

McKay took over the monitor then glanced at the thrashing Colonel below as Keller and her medics swarmed his body. His face paled. "I think he's having a seizure."

They watched in silence for long moments as Keller's team worked around Sheppard, and eventually, the thrashing stopped, and for once, Sheppard was still, his eyes closed. Keller seemed to breathe a sigh of relief and after giving her team more orders, she headed back up to the rest of the team.

"What happened?" Woolsey asked.

"He had a seizure," Keller replied. "I had to up the dosage slightly and it seemed to do the trick. I think our dosage was too low so this is good to know. We'll have to keep experimenting until we find the right amount. He's already on a lower dosage than before and he seemed to stabilize after the seizure so we'll keep monitoring him."

Just then, a lieutenant entered the room, addressing Woolsey with a grave face.

"Mr. Woolsey, sir. We just received an emergency message from Stargate Command."

"And?" Woolsey demanded, impatiently.

Throwing a nervous glance at the team behind him, the man continued, "They are closing all connections between Atlantis and Earth in light of the new threat, sir. They told me to tell you that this was their final Stargate transmission. They are sending the Odyssey on one last run of supplies, but then … They want Earth to be safe, sir. They want to know the threat is eliminated before opening channels again."

"The threat?" McKay sputtered. "Are they talking about Colonel Sheppard?"

"No, Dr. McKay," Woolsey said grimly. "They're talking about the alien species that infiltrated Atlantis with such apparent ease that they have every right to cut off all ties with us. For now. We need to tackle this threat head-on and keep it from going any further — or determine what their true intentions are before coming to any rash conclusions."

Woolsey turned a bleak look on everyone in the room. "For now, Atlantis is on its own."

In the days that followed, Sheppard's condition slowly changed. At first, Keller wasn't sure if it was for the better. He stopped fighting the restraints but became non-verbal and silent. She could tell he was suffering and in great pain, but he refused to answer her when she asked how they could help.

He gradually weakened, muscles spasming and brow creased in pain, drifting in and out of consciousness. Twitching limbs occasionally developed into seizures, and she would have to up the dosage of Janus' drug before trying to back off again.

Eventually, they were able to remove the extra restraints, leaving him only cuffed at the wrists and ankles. He seemed too weak to continue resisting, and Keller wondered when or if they would ever get their old Colonel back.

Teyla and Ronon were constant shadows over the observation room, and Rodney flitted in and out at all hours, feeling helpless but trying to come up with something to help Keller find a solution to getting Sheppard off the drug permanently sooner rather than later. The only consolation they had was that Sheppard had seemed to have lost his superhuman strength and healing, and typical withdrawal symptoms had finally emerged, leaving him covered in sweat and his muscles spasming in pain.

Finally, when Keller had all but lost hope, Sheppard opened his eyes, looked at her in confusion, and said weakly, "Doc?"

"Hey, Colonel," she smiled. "Is that you in there?"

He closed his eyes, nodded, then drifted back into unconsciousness.

Keller felt it was a win.

***These are real, Ancient Greek curses. For someone to be unburied and eaten by crows was an especially harsh curse ...