Of
Duty, Atonement, and Redemption—Chapter Seventeen
By
SGC Gategirl
xxx
For warnings, comments, summary, etc, please see part one.
xxx
Carson Beckett couldn't sit still. He'd done his rounds to the few patients left in the infirmary because of the virus an hour ago. He'd stopped by the lab to see how they were doing with synthesizing the new vaccines. He'd organized one of the supply rooms, doing inventory while he was there.
Now, standing in his office, eying his desk, he realized this was the last place he wanted to be.
Tucking his stethoscope deep into the pocket of his white medical coat, he headed for the door, his feet taking him away from the infirmary. It took his mind a few minutes to catch up before he realized he was halfway to the control room, his hands clenched tightly at his side.
The rescue team would be leaving shortly.
And there was a specific conversation he'd been ignoring that he needed to have with Elizabeth. Apparently, his subconscious was keen on the whole 'two birds with one stone' method.
He nodded to the few people he passed, many of them wearing a somewhat dazed expression. Impending invasion by the Wraith could do that to anyone he imagined, wondering if his own face looked the same.
Rounding the final corner, he bounded up the stairs, spotting Elizabeth walking around the control room, taking notes on her tablet PC as he paused behind each station. She looked drawn, pale, tired—just about usual for her as of late.
She glanced up as he reached the top of the stairs, her eyes and face doing a strange dance before settling down into a frown. "Carson," she said finally, her tone questioning his presence without being overly combative.
Yes, he thought, moving closer, it was definitely time they talked.
"Elizabeth, are you busy?"
She held his gaze for a moment before dropping it to the screen before her, scribbling down several notes before the stepped to the next monitor. "Actually, I am. Can it wait?"
He kept his tone level, but his voice boded no argument. "Nae, I don't think it can."
Her head rose once again, her eyes flashing with worry and concern. "What's wrong?"
"I believe it might be prudent to have this conversation in private," he said, gesturing toward her office. She nodded slowly, clasping the tablet closer to her body as she stepped through the obstacle course of chairs, people, and consoles. They moved silently to the room at the end of the hall. Carson palmed the door control as soon as they stepped inside, the clear panel closing with a hush, cutting out the noise of the control room.
"Carson, what seems to be the problem?" she asked, settling down in the chair behind her desk, placing her tablet back on its docking station.
He perched on the edge of the guest chair, his hands hanging loosely between his knees. "I think we should probably discuss what's going to happen when the rescue team returns."
"Why?" she asked, her back straightening, her eyes anywhere except on him. "Right now we need to be concerned about getting the team there and back safely. We don't even know if Rodney's alive."
"And if he is? What then? We can't ignore him this time around. Look where it got us the first time."
He wasn't sure if it was his comment or the accusatory tone of his voice that made he look up. "Is that what you think we did?"
"Aye, among other things."
Her eyes hardened as she looked at him, her lips thinning and tightening. "Subterfuge doesn't become you, Carson."
He rose, stalking to the other side of the room, his own anger and guilt eating at him from the inside. He took a moment before he turned back to her, trying not to let his own emotions flow too heavily into his tone. "You were wrong, Elizabeth."
She chuckled harshly, bitterly. "I've been wrong about a great number of things in my life, Carson, and an even greater number recently. You're going to have to be more specific than that."
"You were angry with him."
"Of course I was," she said, swiveling in her chair to face him, her arms crossed over her chest, hugging tightly against her body. "I had every right to be. He nearly destroyed an entire solar system and god only knows what other damage he might have done. We can't tell. We can't even get close enough to check and see."
"He made a mistake, Elizabeth," he said as he leaned over her desk, planting his hands on the top. "Can you tell me that you've never screwed something up?"
"Never on that scale."
"No, I canna imagine you have. But we are talking about Rodney here. He never does anything small."
"And that's the problem, isn't it?" she asked, rising to her feet as she moved toward the far end of the room. "What happens when that next mistake is something that does more than blows up an uninhabited solar system?"
"We hope like hell that doesn't happen and we trust him. What else is there to do?"
Elizabeth raised an eyebrow. "After all this, everything he's done, you trust him not to be blinded by the science, by the glory he sees around the next corner?"
"Yes," Carson said, nodding firmly. "As much of an arse he can be, I trust him with my life because time and time again he's proven to be someone I can trust."
She was quiet for a moment, her expression hard. "You know he went around me, forced me to approve the mission."
"By going to John?" Carson shrugged, not sure where she was headed. "Knowing Rodney he had a good reason and he knew you wouldn't listen to him once you'd made up your mind."
"Exactly. We'd already made the decision not to pursue it."
"But then John talked to you."
"Yes," she nodded. "And Colonel Caldwell."
"Oh?"
"He'd already given his report to the SGC."
Carson looked at her carefully, finally understanding much more about the entire situation. Shoving his hands into his pockets, his fingers of his right hand curling around the stethoscope still deep inside. "Caldwell took the decision out of your hands, didn't he?"
She nodded, turning away, the muscles in her back tense. "We could have lost the entire science department, if not more, had the SGC sent along other scientists."
"But that didn't happen."
"No," she said, shaking her head, her shoulder blades shifting under the fabric of her jacket. "No, it didn't."
"Who are you mad at, Elizabeth? Rodney? Colonel Caldwell? Yourself?"
She turned toward him, her anger clearly evident on her face.
He moved forward, his own ire unbowed by her reaction. "You're angry because you were out-flanked, that the decision was essentially taken out of your hands, and you found the likeliest candidate for your anger in Rodney. He didn't deserve what you did to him."
"What I did?"
"Yes, what you decided," he said, his voice rising as his hands began to fly in the air. "You and Colonel Sheppard. You were both angry—at the situation more than anything else—and you took that out on Rodney because he'd had the unfortunate opportunity to screw something up bigger than he'd done before."
"We can't have any of the science staff acting the way he did."
"I agree, but there were better ways to prove your point. Did you even bother to see the man you managed to crush?"
"Rodney was fine. He sat across from me in meetings, worked on projects. He was fine."
"No matter how many times you say it doesn't change things. Lorne and Ronon kept an eye on him. Some of us—when we were actually on Atlantis—tried to get him to talk, to interact on some kind of normal level, but he managed to withdraw from just about everyone and everything. Do you even care to know how much weight he's lost?"
"Why didn't you do something if you saw it happening?"
"I tried, but we were also neck deep in that bloody virus. It's not like I had a great deal of opportunity to track down a man who didn't want to be found."
Carson ran a hand through his hair, turning toward the window overlooking the gate below. Several people glanced toward him, obviously able to hear something through the thick glass. Taking a deep breath, he turned back to Weir who was still standing on the other side of the room, her arms still wrapped around her body.
"Elizabeth,"' he began, his voice gentler than it had been only a moment before. "How often do you thank Rodney for what he's done for us?"
She frowned, her forehead scrunching together as confusion settled on her face. "I…what does that have to do with anything?"
Carson stepped closer, his own guilt beginning to bubble up from within. "He does so much for us—whether it's in the city or saving us from the Wraith. Without him, we'd be dead several times over by now. He's good at…fixing things, making things better. But have we ever thanked him, praised him?"
"He's not a child, Carson."
"No, he's not. He's a loud and abrasive man, but I watched him when he was under my care. Under that overbearing personality is a very tired, afraid, and sensitive man who finally found something that mattered to him—Atlantis, and in a way, us. But what did we do? We yanked everything out from under his feet. We're the ones who drove him to this."
After a moment Weir's eyes widened and she slid down into one of her guest chairs. "We did, didn't we?" she finally whispered, her glassy eyes locked with his.
"Aye, lass," he said, moving to her side, resting a hand on her shoulder. "But we can make it right again. We have to."
"Jumper One to Flight. Permission to disembark."
Rising quickly to her feet and shrugging of his hand, Weir tapped her radio as she walked out of her office and into the control room. "This is Flight. You are clear to leave."
"Thanks, Elizabeth," Sheppard said, his voice echoing out of the overhead speakers.
Carson walked over to stand at the rail, leaning against it as he waited for the jumper to descend. Less than a minute later, the gate activated and the ceiling opened, the jumper dropping into the room.
He felt Elizabeth move to stand at his side, her hands resting beside his on the railing. "Godspeed, John," she whispered as the jumper flew into the event horizon, the wormhole winking out of existence a minute later.
Now, all they could do was wait.
xxx
The voices whispered to him.
Sometimes soothing, other times grating, harsh, shattering the silence.
He floats, weightless, with only the voices as company. They taunt him, speaking of freedom, of open space, of hunger, of others.
The hunger is strongest.
He can feel it; the pain, the longing, until it gets too strong and they are unable to bear it.
And then the sweetest of pleasures washes over him, so strong and overwhelming that it cleanses all memories and thoughts away, leaving a clean white slate until it starts again.
Until he can actually hear the scream of yet another feeding—closer this time than before—and the cycle begins anew.
xxx
They waited.
Silent and invisible, the jumper sat in the shadow of a world about to be culled.
There was only one more hyperspace pause until it reached Atlantis, but this hive ship would go no further. Of that, Sheppard had vowed. The city would be safe even if he had to give his last dying breath to make it so.
Rodney's sacrifice would not be for nothing.
Shifting in the pilot's seat, he watched and waited, the conversations from the past several days still running though his head, his own guilt and anger mixing with the more clear and present fear of what was to come. He didn't want to think—couldn't think—about the possibility that Rodney was dead, already drained of life.
No. They were going to find him, save him, bring him home.
They'd been sitting here for two hours already, the hushed conversations between the rest of the team finally drifting to an end, the hum of the jumper the only sound.
Sheppard hated waiting.
The beeping of an alarm drew his attention, the scanners finally picking up an energy disturbance as the hive ship slowed and flashed into existence, gliding into a high orbit as the darts left the bay in droves, heading to the planet and their next feeding.
Powering up the jumper, Sheppard narrowed his eyes as they moved in, his aim true as they finally settled down within the huge hanger bay, off to a side, hopefully in a place where they wouldn't be discovered.
Locking down the controls, he swiveled in his seat, quickly attaching the P90 to the clip on his vest before moving to the back of the craft, grabbing extra ammunition and shoving it deep within his tactical vest.
A quick glance at the life signs detector in his left hand showed the bay in this area clear. They were good to go. He glanced over his shoulder, receiving a sharp nod from Lorne who sported his own handheld device and a pack with the Ancient weapon. Teyla and Ronon were poised, weapons drawn, waiting and watching him.
Nodding once, his hand slammed down on the hatch release and they were moving even before the rear was completely open. A quick click of the remote and it retracted, sealing their escape vessel from accidental entry.
"Ronon," he whispered, his eyes constantly on the move, shifting effortlessly from the device in his hand to the surrounding area. He tried not to twitch, but the smell in the hive was strong. Earthy and organic and something else—something his mind refused to identify. "Which way?"
"The cells are this way," he said gesturing with his chin to one of the passages on the right. "The stasis area is the other way. He could be in either."
Thankfully, the Satedan didn't add the other possibility. But Sheppard knew they were all thinking it.
"Cells first," Sheppard decided quickly. If McKay were there, it would be easy to retrieve him and get the hell out of Dodge. If not, Sheppard was determined to open each and every stasis pod until they found him.
Rodney deserved nothing less.
xxx
With Ronon and Sheppard leading them, Lorne hung in the back with Teyla, watching their six, his life signs detector in one hand, his P90 in the other.
The Colonel had been quiet the entire time, either staring out the forward window on the jumper or studying his hands. It seems that something had finally sunk into the man's thick skull.
Lorne was just happy tha he wasn't going to get shipped directly back to Earth. Although, a rescue mission on a hive ship wasn't much better. Maybe Sheppard was just trying to find him a more exciting way to die.
No matter what, things should never have gone this far. He shouldn't have let them. And if Rodney was a dead, lifeless husk…Lorne broke off the thought. He didn't want to consider what Sheppard might do to him in that case. One thing Lorne had learned very quickly at the SGC: even if they were fighting angry at each other, you did not get between a military CO and his geek.
They moved silently, steadily, pausing when Wraith appeared on their sensors, ducking into side passages while they passed by.
They needed to stay hidden, invisible, if this was going to work.
And it had better work.
Ronon paused, his head cocked to the side as he listened intently, not totally trusting the device in Sheppard's hand. Technology could break; his senses wouldn't.
He nodded once, sharply, before ducking around the corner into the holding area, the empty cells clear evidence there was no one present.
In a way, it was better this way, not finding prisoners. There was no way for them to remain quiet, to stay hidden in the shadows with scared prisoners trotting behind them. No, he was grateful the cells were empty. It meant Sheppard had one less decision to make.
Teyla fell in behind as they left the holding cells, watching carefully, her senses attuned to the hive around her, waiting for that one slip, that one long glance that meant they had been uncovered.
It was only a matter of time, she knew, as they headed deeper into the ship toward the stasis chambers, to those who slumbered with dreams of the dying echoing in their minds.
Ronon led the way, closely followed by Sheppard, whose expression continued to harden with every step he took, a strange determination settling over him thickly. They passed several chambers, the husks of the dead yet to be removed, their frozen, dried bodies hanging limply from the webbing.
She turned in disgust.
Sheppard's hand came up suddenly—just as Ronon stopped short—the gestures to take cover clear. Ducking into an alcove, she held her breath, tucking herself as far into the shadows as she could, the smell of death surrounding her. Trying not to gag, she breathed slowly, shallowly, watching as two Wraith drones marched past, their eyes front and center, their semi-cocooned victim dragging behind.
Waiting several minutes, they finally emerged, Sheppard waving emphatically as he moved to follow.
"Colonel—" she whispered, her eyes warning him to be more careful, but he wasn't listening.
"The first darts are already back. We're running out of time," he hissed, moving closer so she could hear him. "They're heading toward the stasis chambers. Maybe Rodney's in one of them."
"But there are bound to be more Wraith there, bringing others they have culled. It is unwise."
He replied, the word shoved through his clenched teeth. "I. Don't. Care."
"Colonel—"
He turned, signaling for Ronon to move, ignoring the disapproving glances from her and Major Lorne.
They moved out quickly, quietly, and after exchanging a long look with the Major, they had no choice but to follow.
Lifting their weapons, they headed out.
xxx
Hiding in the shadows, they watched as the Wraith's latest victim was placed in the stasis chamber, the membrane and webbing covering the body completely. The drones stepped away, waiting as the wall nearly swallowed the figure whole, before moving down the corridor, leaving silence in their wake.
They were in the right place. They had to be.
There had to be some logical way the Wraith organized their food, oldest to newest—or at least John was hoping.
And they'd found the newest.
Gesturing with his hand, he dropped his P90 and reached for his knife, by-passing the newest victim and digging the blade into the next surface. He heard, rather than saw the rest of his team move to begin on other chambers, ripping, slicing, and harsh breathing the only sound.
They had to hurry.
The first person he uncovered—breaking the membrane with his fingers—was already dead, the pulse long gone, lifeless wide-open eyes staring at him.
He moved on.
Teyla hissed at him as she moved her victim to the ground, leaning him against the wall. "We can't leave them here, Colonel."
"We can't take them."
"You intend to leave them?"
"What else to you expect me to do? We don't have a lot of options here," he replied, trying to move past her to the next chamber. Her hand on his arm stopped him.
His eyes slid down to where her fingers dug into his forearm before sliding to the life signs detector. They were still alone, although Ronon and Lorne had added two more victims to the tally.
"We don't have time for this, Teyla," he hissed, refusing to raise his eyes. "You know the mission."
"Colonel—" she began, only to be cut off by a half-cry from Lorne. Glancing over, he saw a smile of relief on the Major's face, his hands continually digging at the membrane and webbing in the stasis chamber.
"Sir, we've got him."
xxx
He was cold.
And he could feel hands on his body, pulling and yanking at something, the cold air touching his skin, making him shiver.
How much time has passed since he'd last been aware? He did not know.
Memory flashed.
Planet.
Ancient device.
Wraith.
Oh no.
Panic surged through him as he knew instinctively—even barely conscious—what was happening to him, what the hands meant.
He was being moved, taken somewhere to be fed upon.
He tried to struggle, to move, to resist, but no muscle moved, the paralysis still hanging on strongly.
He wanted to fight, to scream. He didn't want to die.
xxx
Sheppard hadn't been able to hold Teyla's gaze, focused on his feet until he finally threw a body over his shoulder and headed back to the dart bay, the rest of the team quickly following his lead. With a partially unwrapped Rodney over Ronon's shoulder, and everyone else carrying one of the other victims they'd uncovered, they stole through the ship, waiting for the alarm to be raised.
Two Wraith had passed them by as they'd hovered, barely protected down a side corridor, waiting as the seconds ticked by. Lorne had tucked the Ancient device into the chamber Rodney had been encased in, shoving it down deep so as not to be discovered before triggering the timer.
They had ten minutes and every second counted because John had every intention on being out of the hive ship before it became terminally infected with the nano-virus. They had no idea how the hive would react to the infection and he didn't want to find out firsthand.
There was no way they were coming this far—and finding McKay—and not getting out alive. That wasn't even a consideration.
They were all going back to Atlantis so Sheppard could kick some sense into McKay. Dying made that whole proposition difficult.
Shifting the weight of the body on his shoulders, and trying to juggle the life signs detector in his hands, Sheppard nodded and they headed off once again, trying to hurry and remain quiet.
They weren't quite able to do both.
The wail of the alarm through the ship meant that someone had stumbled on their extraction in the stasis room.
Damn.
There was no point in being silent now. Sheppard turned and shouted, knowing the bay was still several corridors away. "Run!"
xxx
While Major Lorne generally thought life in the Pegasus Galaxy was entertaining, albeit a bit dangerous, he never pictured himself hauling ass down a Wraith hive ship hallway with the body of some stranger strewn across his back in a rough fireman's carry.
Apparently, his life was supposed to be anything but normal.
As he ran, he tried to keep his eyes on where he was going, but continually checked the device in his hands. It was hard to do and not drop the person they'd rescued, but he didn't have much choice in the matter—especially because he and Teyla were forming the rear guard, Ronon and Sheppard half a hallway ahead.
When several dots appeared behind them, Lorne knew they were going to be in trouble.
"Colonel," he said, managing to tap his radio on. "We have four incoming on our six."
"You sure?" cam back his huffed reply.
Lorne rolled his eyes as he kept pace with Teyla who had the young girl over her shoulder. "No, Colonel, I decided to report something I didn't see. If I'm wrong then it's the life sign detector's fault."
"It's not that much farther."
"I know. I'm just worried that they might catch up."
"Less talking and more running might help," Sheppard replied unhelpfully before adding in a more serious tone, "Keep an eye on them. If they get too close we'll have to do something about them. I'd rather not get into a stand-off if we don't have to."
"Agreed. Lorne out."
Shaking his head, he hefted the body, trying to shift it into a more comfortable position as he picked up the pace, his eyes flickering between the screen of the detector and the far end of the hallway.
About two minutes later, he could see the vague outline of the dart bay, but at about the same time two more dots appeared on the screen, coming in from a side corridor. And they were close.
"Teyla," he said, pushing the words out even as he tried to move faster. "Two coming up on the right."
"Understood," she said, her voice calm but strained. At least he wasn't the only one feeling the stress.
Glancing ahead, he saw Sheppard and Ronon take the final turn into the bay, the jumper only a few more feet away. As soon as he shifted his eyes to the screen once more to check the readings, he realized that Teyla had pulled ahead of him and that the Wraith had gained on them.
He was only half expecting the whine of the Wraith stunners. He wasn't expecting that they'd manage to hit something.
Lorne barely registered Teyla's yell as he tumbled to the floor, consciousness rushing away before his body hit.
xxx
"Major!"
Teyla's cry, the whine of the Wraith stunner, and the sound of two thumps against the floor was enough for John Sheppard to know what things had just gone from bad to worse.
Sheppard turned, steps from the jumper as Ronon ducked inside with McKay through the rear hatch John had only opened moments before, vanishing from sight only to appear seconds later, his weapon out already moving back to the hallway.
"Colonel," Teyla's strained voice broke over the radio. "Major Lorne is down and I am…pinned down."
"Ronon's on his way," he replied as the runner dashed around the corner, his weapon firing.
John headed into the jumper, depositing his own passenger on the opposite bench from Rodney, keeping them both out of harms way. He moved quickly to the scientist's side, wiping several strands of the cocoon away from his face, his fingers moving to tear away the membrane that still surrounded the man, but he stopped.
First things first, he said to himself, pulling his hand back. He had to get his team back in one piece and out of the hive before it blew—any minute now.
xxx
Ronon's first shot went wild, but the second hit its mark, and the Wraith drone dropped to the floor a few paces from Lorne's unconscious figure. Two more Wraith stepped into view a second later and were quickly dispatched with two successive shots.
Teyla emerged a moment later from a small alcove she'd apparently ducked into, the young woman they'd rescued still on her shoulders. "Go," he said. "I'll hold them off."
She nodded once, already on the move as Sheppard ran into view, his P90 poised and ready.
"Grab Lorne," Ronon said, pointing with his free hand toward the two slumped figures. "I'll grab the other one."
"The Wraith?" he asked, refusing to give in to easily, his eyes scurrying around the corridor.
"More on the way. We need to hurry."
He nodded once, finally, before letting his weapon drop to hang from the clip on his vest. He bent, dragging Lorne onto his shoulders with a groan before turning back to the dart bay.
Ronon waited a few seconds, his eyes scanning the area, gun at the ready, before he too bent down and hoisted the man onto his shoulders and headed for the jumper, his gun and eyes continuing to survey the area.
"Ronon, we're clear," Sheppard's voice came over the radio. "Get your ass in here."
"Coming, Sheppard," he replied, one last glance over his shoulder as he ran for the jumper, depositing the man they'd rescued on the floor next to Lorne while the rear hatch closed. Teyla was moving efficiently between the unconscious bodies, checking them over.
Sheppard was already in the pilot's seat, going through one of the fastest pre-flights Ronon had ever seen, the jumper lifting off moments after he'd slumped down into the co-pilot's chair.
"How much time?"
The other man shook his head, not lifting his eyes from the HUD as he turned the craft to fly out of the bay and into space. "Not sure. Soon."
Ronon nodded, watching as they passed the darts still sitting serenely in their places. In a few more seconds they'd be gone.
A low rumble flashed over them and the HUD changed quickly, switching to sensor output. "I think it worked," Sheppard replied after a long moment. "Sensors are showing an explosion in one of the lower levels within the ship. It seems power levels in that section have been compromised."
"Good."
"Maybe." Sheppard paused again, the screen switching to another view as the jumper finally reached space, speeding away from the hive and to the nearest Stargate. "As long as they don't have a vaccine."
"Would they?" The question came from Teyla who was still in the rear of the jumper. Ronon glanced back, spotting her kneeling next to McKay as she tried to clear some of the membrane and webbing away from him.
"It's been ten thousand years. Anything's possible," Sheppard said dryly, his eyes fixed on the controls.
"Sheppard," Ronon growled, his meaning clear as the other man replied, turning slightly to glance at him.
"It's doubtful, but possible. I'd just be more comfortable knowing the ship blew up before we go through the gate."
"As would I," Teyla said. Ronon heard a slight shuffling of clothing and she was beside them, glancing out the window.
"We need to get them back to Atlantis," Sheppard said, glancing over his shoulder, his eyes lingering on the figures lying in the rear of the craft.
"How long should it take until the virus overwhelms the Wraith's systems?"
Sheppard's eyes moved to the Athosian. "Radek said a few minutes."
"Then we shall wait a few minutes to be sure." Her voice was firm, boding no argument. Sheppard, for once, only nodded, turning back to the console, the HUD changing once again, magnifying the Wraith ship on their screens, the sensors providing an overlay of data.
"They're losing systems," Sheppard said a moment later, after studying the information scrolling across the screen. "And I'm getting a power build-up in their hyperdrive engine core."
Ronon glanced through the HUD toward the Wraith ship, judging the distance. "Are we far enough away?"
Sheppard's hand shot out, fiddling with several buttons before gripping the controls once again. His first response was quiet, on the edge of an exhaled breath. "Damn…" His hands pushed several other buttons before he spoke again, finally answering the question in one clipped word. "No."
The jumper swung around sharply, racing toward the Stargate even as the alarms in the jumper began to sound about an incoming energy wave.
The Hive was exploding.
"Hang on!" Sheppard yelled as the blast screamed across the open space between them.
xxx
TBC
