Note: I couldn't leave you all with such a small chapter yesterday, so here's a very eventful chapter... Poor John :(
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Chapter 21 – The Hostage
The Skerti Queen was angry; her frustration and irritation pressing down across the Hive like a physical weight. Around Long Sleep he could see the effect of that pressure on the increasingly weakening Keepers working around him. They appeared to actually be in pain when there was a particular rush of annoyance from the Queen, their bodies seeming to buckle down towards the floor as if she were pushing her mighty mind down on them.
Long Sleep remembered that pressure himself, as she had focused on him like that once before, but, fortunately, she had so far kept her mental focus away from him. He suspected that was due to the fact that he had been the one rushing around the Hive, galvanising all the Keepers, and any warriors with some technical skill, into service to assist him in keeping the Hive together.
The last jump of the new drive had been a complete waste, as the space into which they had arrived had apparently been almost devoid of any life and an Armoured Herd's ship had immediately intercepted them. The Queen had ordered an instant retreat, using the damned drive yet again and, it being too soon after the first jump, the structural weaknesses across the Hive had failed like never before.
Long Sleep, his body and mind once again full of focus and energy thanks to his short life-force gift from the Primary, had not stopped working since. He'd given orders left and right, ignoring his place of a simple Keeper and fortunately all had complied with his instructions. Actual fissures had opened up throughout the Hive, breaking power lines apart, tearing structural membranes, and spilling nutritional fluids across too many decks. He had organised multiple groups throughout the Hive, using Keepers to lead and other warriors to assist in each group to physically repair the breaks and stop the leaks of essential nutrition fluids from being wasted. Every droplet of the fluid was needed for every cell of the Hive to stay strong under the effects of the radiation and help to physically hold the ship together.
The Hive was failing, just as he had warned the Hive Primary, which the Queen could clearly see and she was not pleased. Her impatience for the repairs to be completed hung over all.
Long Sleep didn't care what she liked or wanted though, for right now he focused his entire being on saving the Hive and all in it. His mind wrapped up tightly and his mental clarity refreshingly returned, he worked hard, moving around the Hive to supervise all the many repairs as best he could.
Though, this particular fracture point was one of the worst. There was a large chest-wide crack cut through one side of a corridor, the floor beneath it flooded with sticky dried nutrition fluid and more still dripping from the edges of the raw wound. His entire body squeezed into the fracture, Long Sleep reached up overhead though the tight space to feel along the bone graft he had screwed into place. He had forgone all attempts to use the usual approaches to just encourage the Hive's healing and instead had ordered literal spikes and bolts be used to brace these serious breaks and only then to apply new bone grafts. The structural skeleton of the Hive had to be held together or they had no chance at all.
The only good news from the last two jumps was that the former repairs he had overseen on the air filtration and circulation system had held well. The techniques he had employed there had worked to help hold those vital systems together, which gave him some hope that the Hive was still salvageable.
"Is it holding?" One of the Keepers asked from below Long Sleep's armpit, the warrior's head and one shoulder squeezed in beside Long Sleep. He held up the next bolt ready for Long Sleep, but it was perhaps unnecessary now.
"It is sealing in already," Long Sleep replied through slightly gritted teeth as he stretched up further, running his slickened fingertips over the top of the new graft and bolts. With so much escaped nutrition liquid in here, it was at least helping speed up the healing.
"What about the wall?" The Keeper asked worriedly, wincing slightly as the Queen's mind rumbled over them.
"This needs to heal first," Long Sleep replied as he dropped his tired arms and shook some life back into them.
Pulling out of the tight space, he stepped back out into the corridor to reassess the massive fracture. Only, he noticed that the air felt cooler out here. Long Sleep frowned at that awareness. He'd been pressed in against the warm living walls of the Hive within the fracture, but still it felt far cooler out here than before.
"Interface," he waved a hand towards the Keeper, requesting the small device hooked up to the closest interface point with the Hive. The warrior picked up the device and handed it to Long Sleep, its long attaching vein dripping from having lain in the spilt fluids on the floor.
Long Sleep consulted the interface quickly and let out a frustrated sigh. "They haven't gotten the repairs from the engine output completed yet." Without those, the excess heat from the engine pods could not be transferred around the Hive to keep the ship's living cells, and all on board, warm against the press of vacuum cold penetrating in through the hull.
Long Sleep peered back into the fracture. He could see the exposed section of bone was still repairing itself. He had overseen the most important part.
He handed the interface back to the waiting Keeper. "Get these sides drawn together, brace it well and grow the thickest membranes."
The warrior's drained pallor seemed to pale further, but he nodded.
Long Sleep didn't have to time to watch over his shoulder, so turned away, moving carefully through the sticky patches on the wet floor and pieces of torn removed membranes, and then hurried quickly towards the next repairs that needed his clear thinking.
Plans on escape or sabotage of the new drive still swam around his head, though well concealed within the strong walls of his mind, but for now he had to keep this Hive in one piece.
And watch for an opportunity that might present itself.
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This time John woke up to the uncomfortable sensations of being dragged along a chilly floor. His knees and lower legs bumped along the floor and two big painful things were pulling him forward by his shoulders.
Blinking open his eyes, John frowned up at the stone walls passing by on either side. Rolling his head to one side, John realised that he was being carried/dragged by two of Kolya's brown-dressed goons.
His view of the ceiling above them became a doorway and then another ceiling. John lowered his head to watch a concrete floor moving below him, all the small bumps in the floor jarring up though his kneecaps.
Lifting his head back up, his next sight was metal bars fast approaching ahead.
Oh crap.
He tried to fight back a little now, his arms, though tingly and his fingers numb, responded to him this time, and he managed to get one of the goons to stumble slightly. But it was too late, because they were dragging him between two sets of bars and then they dropped him.
The concrete floor rushed up to meet John's face.
He hit it softer than he had expected, which was probably because his limp arms had folded down under him, cushioning his fall. Behind him, the loud clang of what was clearly the metal prison door slamming shut, sent small sharp aches through his head, and the marching beat of the boot steps moving away annoyed John instantly. They'd just dumped him like one of those oat bran sacks back in the cart. Or had he dreamt that?
He worked to press his tingling hands against the concrete and lifted his head and upper body up off the floor to look up and round. The cage door was definitely shut and he could see the backs of the two goons rounding a corner and disappearing from view.
"Hey, I ordered a room with a sea view," John managed to vaguely shout after them.
He groaned as he worked to push himself up further onto one butt cheek and blinked around at his decidedly non-sea view room.
"They'll be sorry once they see my review online," he muttered to himself as he used his heavy hands to push himself onto both butt checks now so that he was finally sitting upright.
God he hated stunners. Well, he guessed they were better than a bullet, but today didn't appear to be getting any better.
He assessed the room around him. His cell.
There were three solid walls and the cage front, though there was one small opening filled with bars in one wall, but that seemed to just look into another cell next door. So there were no helpful little windows looking out on the view of a nicely identifiable planet outside. No obvious way to send out a signal for help from some helpful passerby.
This hotel really sucked.
Now he was noticing things, he realised that the air felt stale and smelt sort of musty. Clearly no one had opened any windows here in a long time. Which probably all meant the obvious – he was underground. Typical Genii hiding underground. So, he was in a bunker on some unidentifiable world, and, considering that Kolya had free rein to visit any planet outside the Alliance, John could be damn well anywhere.
Well, he wasn't going to just sit here nicely and wait for his fate.
"I want to talk to Kolya!" He shouted, not that he could see any guards, but he would bet there were plenty nearby making sure he didn't escape.
No answer came back.
"Kolya!" John shouted loudly. If they thought they could just ignore him, then they were very mistaken. "This has got to be the stupidest move you've ever made! Kolya!"
"You are wasting your breath," a rough-edged low voice arrived from the left.
John snapped his eyes to the opening into the next cell. A shifting sound of movement through the bars confirmed there was someone in there.
"I didn't know I had company down here," John replied to the disembodied announcement, oddly grateful to hear someone else's voice. At least he had company in this hellhole.
He worked to get up off the floor, which was tough with so many pins and needles and not being able to feel all of his feet yet, but he had enough experience with being stunned to know it would wear off quick enough. Getting moving always helped, and he was eager to find out who was on the other side of the bars.
Upright, he moved towards the side wall with the bars, reaching out to grip hold of the metal for some support. He also gave the bars a little tug to check how secure they were. Turned out they were very secure.
There were actually two sets of bars, one on either side of the opening between the cells. John peered through into the next cell, which was a duplicate of his, though there were more shadows in it. He couldn't immediately see anyone inside.
"There is no escape," the voice uttered and the sound had definitely come from the near left corner, just out of John's view. Lifting up onto his toes, John could just about see a boot and perhaps a knee among the deep shadows.
"Yeah, well, prisons are like that," John commented. "That's never stopped me before. How long have you been here?"
There was a slight pause. "Many years in one prison or another of theirs," the voice answered from the shadows. The voice was definitely male and sounded very weak.
"How many years?" John pushed. The voice sounded like the guy was maybe old, or perhaps seriously emaciated. "Five years? Ten? More?"
There was a heavy sigh. "It no longer matters."
John wished he didn't feel a slight drop in his heart in hearing that. This guy had clearly been here long enough to lose all hope and depression was like a very presence in the next cell.
"Where are you from?" John asked next.
"That no longer matters either," the depressed response answered.
"Okay. What did you do to end up down here then?" John tried another tactic.
"I merely allowed myself to be captured alive."
"Well, I've got a lot of people looking for me. Powerful people," John attempted to inject some positivity. "When they find me, we can both get out of here."
"No one has ever escaped," the voice replied, as cheerful as ever.
Footsteps registered in the distance and John turned away from the small bars, watching as two men appeared and headed towards the closed door to his cell.
They were different goons and still weren't in the usual Genii uniform, instead opting for the brown look.
"Kolya got his own goon squad going on, huh?" John asked as he moved into the centre of the cell, measuring the distances, watching one guard turn a big key in the door's lock.
As the door swung open, John spotted a third guard just off by the exit, a large gun in his hand.
One of the guards stepped into the cell, drawing John's attention back to him.
"Out," the guard ordered as he waved towards the open cell door with what looked very much like an Alliance stunner. John hoped it was a stunner; he couldn't quite tell from this angle.
John measured the distance to the first guard and the angles the other two guards had on him. They all had the same Alliance weapon.
The odds weren't exactly in his favour, but he didn't quite feel like being ordered around.
"I kind of like it in here," John told them. "Maybe I'll just stay in here until my wife gets here-"
The guard in the cell with him lifted the gun and fired.
John actually felt the brief flash of heat as the energy blast passed over his right shoulder and slammed into the back wall of the cell. Bits of cement scattered through the air, peppering John's back. He straightened back upright and wiped down the side of his face that had some wall dust on it.
"Or maybe we can wait outside the cell," John acquiesced and started forward. Always best to choose your battles. "Besides, I wouldn't wanna miss seeing her kicking your asses."
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"Everyone through?" Sam asked Chuck.
"Yes, Ma'am," Chuck reported helpfully, his worried eyes lifting to her from the Gate Room behind her. The teams from M1K had all returned and Jumper One was now rising up into the Bay over the Gate Room.
Nothing new had been found, though scans and samples of the weapons scorch-marks from the trees had already been brought through. Jumper One hadn't found any trace of John's transmitter anywhere on M1K, and there had been no alien ship in orbit that might have held him either. So, it really did look like John had been taken off-world.
Unless someone had found a way to disable his transmitter...
No, Sam was almost certain John would have been taken off-world. It made more sense considering the attackers' care in cleaning up the area around the Gate.
As the Gate shutdown behind her, Sam moved up through the Control Room towards where McKay and Zelenka were working. McKay was working on the fifty Gate addresses and Zelenka the weapons scans. Though it was obvious that had they found anything useful so far they would have reported it, Sam still went up to them to check on progress.
Moving in behind their shoulders, she looked down at their screens. "Anything new?" She asked as she looked over Radek's shoulder first. She could see lines of data and a search comparison running, but she couldn't see anything clear yet.
"We don't have enough data on residual Alliance weapons signatures to be certain," Radek began, sounding frustrated. "All I can say with absolutely certainty is that they were definitely not Wraith weapons."
"We already knew that," McKay dismissed.
"Get the data tidied up for the Elite to look at," Sam told Radek, patting him on his closest tensed shoulder before she turned to Rodney.
"How's it coming, McKay?" She asked as she peered at his computer screens, seeing the list of Gate addresses from M1K and the same list on the Ancient database.
"Any of them could be the right address," Rodney sounded as frustrated as Radek. "I don't know what I'm looking for. All these planets are in our database, but none of them standout as anything significant. Besides, they'll have gated off to another planet anyway," he repeated his earlier, and frequently repeated since, argument. "This is wasting time."
Sam understood his frustration; she felt it too.
"It's all we have," she told Rodney honestly. "These addresses might not mean anything now, but may be useful once we know more, and the Elite might be able to help."
"How are the Elite going to know where they took him?" McKay argued, but Sam moved away, not rising to one of his arguments. He was worried for his friend and, perhaps, feeling a little guilty as Lieutenant Ford had looked earlier. Sam understood that sense of guilt that could happen if one of your team didn't make it through a Gate with you.
She headed back down through the Control Room, glancing to the left where all of the IOA team had gathered. They were chattering away in their huddle, but at least Jack was with them to add some military perspective. Sam focused on moving to Sumner's side where he stood overlooking the Gate Room below.
Sumner was fully geared up, as were the four teams of Marines in the Gate Room below. The problem was that Sam had no idea where to send them to help save John. She even had the Daedalus ready and able in orbit above the City, but she had nowhere to deploy them yet.
Sumner noticed her approach and turned towards her, his right hand resting on his sidearm.
"I think it's time to tell the Elite," she told him, aware of the IOA all looking in her direction across the short distance.
"Good," Sumner nodded his agreement.
Sam nodded back, pleased that the Colonel was on the same page. Not that long ago he had been very sceptical about working with the Alliance and the Elite, but things had changed.
Sam turned towards Chuck and opened her mouth to ask him to request the Elite be brought up here, only the Ancient DHD console in front of him began to light up.
"Unscheduled off-world activation!" Chuck announced loudly and with a very worried look towards her.
Sumner began shouting orders to the Marines down below, as Sam rushed to Chuck's side, her eyes fixed on his laptops and waiting anxiously as the Gate dialled in.
It took only seconds for all the lit chevrons to lock and the wormhole to blast out, but it felt like an eternity to Sam. She dropped her eyes from the view down in to the Gate Room, trusting Sumner to handle all the security matters, while she watched as Chuck's hand hovered over the shield button. The wormhole snapped back and Chuck's hand dropped.
"Wormhole established. Shield is up," Chuck announced for everyone without prompting.
There was a loud silent pause as Sam watched the laptop screens, the room glowing from the active Gate below.
"We've receiving a signal."
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It was definitely a Genii bunker – everything screamed 'secret underground bunker'.
Though the leather covered dentist-looking chair he had been strapped to was new. The goons had shackled his ankles to the base of the chair first and were now securing tight leather straps around his wrists. As they worked, John took in everything he could of the large room around him.
There was only one entrance into the room, which was off to the left, and four of the brown dressed Genii were stationed around the space. He was pretty certain they were Genii despite the fact that they had peeled off their usual second skin of a uniform. They just held themselves in a way that screamed Genii, which was only confirmed by the disinterested slightly aggressive looks they sent his way.
There nothing else in the room save his chair and what looked like a weird old-fashioned camera, which was faced towards him, the multi lenses looking like something out of old black and white cinema. Though, one brown-dressed Genii sat behind the thing held a far more modern looking Alliance pad, with cables connecting it into the back of the big bulky camera. John guessed that Kolya didn't have access to the best tech while being exiled outside the Alliance.
Kolya was nowhere to be seen though, but there was one Genii who was stood off to the right, overseeing John's being attached to the dentist chair. As the guards finished strapping him in, this new guy stepped forward, standing right in front of John.
John tested the straps around his wrists for any give, but they were pretty tight.
Try as he might, the word 'hostage' kept playing in his head.
"Major Sheppard," the guy in front of John said with an evil snake-like smile.
"Where's Kolya?" John asked him, annoyed that he guy was clearly standing tall over him, trying the whole intimidation thing. Kolya did it better.
"I'm afraid the Commander has far more important business to take care of than seeing to your execution," the wannabe Kolya replied.
John worked not to show any reaction to the term 'execution'.
"Really?" John tried to appear casual. "I'd have thought your boss would want to be the one to pull the trigger."
"No one said anything about any triggers, Major," the wannabe answered. That was an unhelpfully cryptic answer clearly designed to make John worry. Like he needed any help with that right now.
"Have we met?" John asked Kolya's fill-in, working to appear as calm as he could.
"Not personally, no," the man replied. "My name is Pranos, and Commander Kolya has entrusted me with your care." There was another one of those nasty snake smiles.
"Great," John glanced away, taking in as many details of the guards stood close by as he could. They all had one of those Alliance guns and what looked like a baton pushed through their belts. "You must be one of his favourite exiles then," John added.
"I see you indeed live up to your reputation," Pranos replied with a slightly smug sneer.
"Look," John said seriously, "you're making a really stupid mistake here. By taking me, you're declaring war not only on Atlantis, but the Alliance, which means that the Elite, the Wraith killing specialists, who include my wife, will be hunting you down as we speak."
Unfortunately, Pranos didn't appear moved by those facts and simply smiled back. That wasn't helpful.
"Fortunately for us," Pranos replied, "the Alliance and the Elite have their own significant problems to deal with as we speak."
John frowned worriedly. What did that mean?
Pranos nodded off to the right and one of the guards stepped into view, a strip of thick white fabric stretched between his hands. It was either going to go over John's eyes or his mouth – he didn't like either option.
"You're gonna regret this," John promised Pranos in the seconds he had before the strip of fabric was pressed tightly against his mouth. At least he would be able to see what was about to happen – he guessed that was a good thing?
"Keep telling yourself that, Major Sheppard; I am sure it will help you through what is about to happen," Pranos smiled as the gag was secured tightly around the back of John's head. As the guard stepped away, John wiggled his mouth and chin, trying to move the gag, but, again, the Genii had done an efficient job.
"Are we ready?" Pranos turned away, moving towards the Genii stood behind the big camera.
"Yes, Pranos," the stooge answered. John watched as the guy tapped on the Alliance pad and then talked into his lapel.
The room fell quiet, all eyes seemingly on the guy behind the camera.
"The Portal is active," the stooge then reported.
The Gate was active?
"Good," Pranos declared and stepped right in front of the camera, his back to John. Given the distance from the camera, John guessed that meant that Pranos was completely blocking him from view. "Begin," Pranos added.
"The signal is open," the other Genii replied.
"Atlantis," Pranos stated loudly towards the camera blocked from John's view. "Do you hear me?"
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"It's an analogue video signal," Radek reported what Sam could see for herself of the incoming signal displayed on the laptop in front of her.
Sam ran through a few considerations on answering it, but a voice echoed out of the console.
"Atlantis, do you hear me?" A male voice asked.
"Put it on the main screen," Sam ordered Chuck.
"Atlantis, we know you are receiving us," the male voice stated out of the large screen as Sam stepped up to it, Sumner at her side.
The man who appeared on the screen wore a non-descript brown outfit and was stood against an equally non-descript background. Sam didn't recognise him, but it was clearly not Kolya. Had their theory been wrong or was this the new uniform of Kolya's exiled force?
The man held himself very tall, his hands held behind his back and his chin held high; all of which suggested military training. Whoever he was, he looked calm and in control.
"This is Atlantis," Sam replied towards the cam built into the screen.
"Good," the male responded with a thin smile. "Am I to assume this is the voice of Colonel Carter, the Commander of Atlantis?"
That was interesting – did that mean that they could only hear Sam and not see her in return? She glanced towards where McKay and Zelenka were watching. Rodney looked up from his tablet and shrugged slightly. She supposed that just because the city sent out a returning video signal didn't mean that the other party had the capacity to receive it on the other end.
Though that didn't change any facts right now. Sam still held herself equally as tall and calm as the man on the screen as she replied.
"Yes, this is Colonel Carter of Atlantis. Whom am I speaking too, please?" She asked the face on the screen.
"My name is unimportant, Colonel," he answered, which wasn't a great sign. "What is important," the unnamed man continued, "is that we have Major Sheppard."
Which meant John was still alive.
"We demand the immediate return of our man," Sumner stated sternly from Sam's side.
"We will be happy to return Major Sheppard to you once you have met our demands," the man answered calmly.
"How do we know that you have Major Sheppard?" Sam asked quickly before Sumner could demand anything further.
"A fair question," the man on the screen nodded and then stepped to the left, revealing John sat in the distance behind him. Sam moved a fraction closer to the screen, as if that would help her assess John faster.
He appeared to be chained to the chair and his mouth was covered with a white gag, but otherwise he appeared okay. He was still in his Atlantis uniform, was sitting up by himself and there were no obvious signs of injury, such as blood stains and or bandages.
"I would like to speak with him," Sam tried.
"I do not think you have time for that," the man shook his head, which didn't surprise Sam all that much. "Not if you want to save Major Sheppard's life."
Sam made herself pull her eyes from John and focus on the man holding John hostage. "What exactly is it that you want in return for Major Sheppard?" She asked.
The man stepped in front of John again, filling most of the camera's view once more, which was also a clear psychological move to deny them further sight of John.
"We demand the full and immediate evacuation of Atlantis," the man stated.
Sam frowned, thrown for a moment. "Excuse me?" Around the Control Room, Sam was aware of people exchanging worried shocked looks.
"I think you heard me well enough. You and your soldiers have illegally held the Ancestral City for too long. It belongs to the people of this galaxy, and you will return it."
"You mean return it to you and those you represent," Sam clarified.
"We will no longer allow you to occupy territory in our galaxy and steal what was intended to be for us," the man continued, his calm slipping slightly. "You will go back to where you came from and return all the Ancestral property you have taken from the city."
A faint nudge against Sam's left elbow heralded the sudden arrival of McKay at her side; not that she'd noticed him moving towards her. McKay pushed in close, glaring at the man on the screen, even though it was likely that the man couldn't see McKay's irate expression.
"If it wasn't for us," McKay explained to the screen, "there wouldn't be an Ancestral city for anyone here to find."
"Colonel Carter, I suggest you keep tighter control over your staff," the man on the screen stated.
"Control is right," Rodney protested, "You want this place for yourselves, don't pretend to hide behind some Ancestor religion as an excuse for y-"
"McKay," Sam cut him off, setting her hand on his closest raised arm that was pointing towards the screen. His eyes switched to her, wide and worried as they were, and she lifted her hand from his arm, asking him silently for calm. Amazingly, he lowered his arm and shut his mouth.
She turned back to the screen. "Sir, I appreciate that you may believe that the Ancestors left this city for the people of this galaxy to find, but, the truth is that this city could only be accessed from our home planet where the Ancestors retreated from the Wraith. They provided us with information and the Gate address that we needed to find our way here."
"Those are simply lies that you use to maintain control of the Ancestral City," the man waved his hand dismissively. "I am not going to get into a debate with you on this subject, thereby providing you with the time you think you need to trace where this transmission is being broadcast from. Let me save you the hard work and inform you that you will be unable to trace this transmission; so I would not waste your, and Major Sheppard's, remaining time on useless debate. Instead, you will begin your evacuation procedures now and all of your people are to leave the Ancestral City within 3 hours."
Sam crossed her arms, drawing her resolve together.
"That will not happen," she told him clearly.
"Are you so ready to sacrifice the life of Major Sheppard?"
"We do not negotiate with terrorists," Sam stated plainly.
The man nodded, as if he had expected that response.
"I suspected that you might respond that way initially," he stated and stepped aside, once more revealing John for the camera.
Sam felt her body tensing up – this would be the point where something awful would be done to John to prove their resolve. "If you return Major Sheppard to us now, intact," Sam stated, "we will let this matter go."
The man ignored her though as he looked off out of view of the camera and nodded. The camera's view then moved, swinging to the right of John to where another man, dressed in the same brown outfit as his leader, pulled open a door and three men entered.
Sam could see instantly that of the three, the outer two were helping the one in the middle walk. He appeared weak, hunched over and seemed to have difficulty walking, though the reduced lighting and slight unfocused angle of the camera made it difficult to see who it was. Sam suspected it would be another prisoner. Perhaps they were going to torture or kill this other prisoner to make their point about what they intended to do to John-
Sam's thoughts were cut off though as the three new arrivals walked into a patch of improved lighting, and the middle weakened man could now be seen clearly.
Only, he was no man.
Sam froze as she watched the weakened Wraith be led towards John. She could see chains swinging between the creature's arms, and what looked like a large metal glove was secured over the Wraith's feeding hand that was held carefully to one side by one of the guards.
Sam also took a quick moment to assess the two new guards pulling the Wraith forward – they wore the same brown outfits and she could make out what looked like an Alliance tech weapon in their holsters. Otherwise, there were no other distinguishable markings or clues as to who these people where.
Torren had mentioned to her that there were some groups within the Alliance that objected to Atlantis being occupied by people from another galaxy. There had even been a small group protesting about it on Athos during the Conference.
Either way, it didn't matter, for the threat that was being silently revealed was horrific. Sam could only pray that it was a bluff.
"If you harm one hair on Major Sheppard's head," Sumner stated angrily from Sam's side in the seconds it took Sam to assess the situation on the other side of the camera, "that will be an act of war. We will find you and you will be responsible for all that happens as a consequence."
The man on the screen ignored them though as he watched as the Wraith was led around behind John's chair to stand weakly on one side. Sam switched her gaze to John's face, seeing the front of the gag moving and his shoulders rising repeatedly with his stressed breathing.
One of the guards pulled open the front of John's shirt, revealing just enough of John's skin for the Wraith's hand to fit against his upper chest. The other guard was unlocking the large metal gauntlet from around the Wraith's feeding hand.
Sam snapped her eyes back to the man in charge of the situation, aware of the exceptionally tense atmosphere around her and Rodney's worried breathing next to her.
"Sir," she stressed sternly, "I am asking that you reconsider what you are doing." Her own voice almost sounded alien to her it was so hard and cold. "Whether you believe in our right to be in this city or not, you will have heard that we have held our own against the Wraith, and we are now allies with the Alliance. If you do this, you will be making powerful enemies and it cannot be undone."
The man finally looked into the camera again, while behind him, the Wraith seemed to wobble slightly on its feet where it loomed over the restrained John.
"Colonel Carter, let me be clear," the man replied, "I do not care about your petty alliances or the firepower you think you have. Atlantis is to be evacuated or we will kill Major Sheppard."
Sam took a deep breath, knowing this was perhaps the worst decision she was ever going to have to make, and yet knew there was none other she could make.
"Atlantis will not be evacuated," Sam told him. "And if you kill Major Sheppard, you will lose all your leverage. I suggest that we talk about this in a logical and-"
"Do it," the man ordered those behind him.
"No!" Rodney exclaimed from Sam's left.
Sam opened her mouth to try to stop what was about to happen, but it was too late.
She watched the horrifying moment as the Wraith slammed its feeding hand down onto John's chest.
"No!" McKay repeated at her side, but Sam fixed her eyes on John, somehow trying to support him through what he was suffering.
John threw his head back in clear pain, his body shaking as the Wraith fed from him. The horrible sound of the animalistic growls of the Wraith was audible over the video link and Sam heard someone swearing behind her.
Only then the man in charge on the other end reappeared at the side of the screen. "That's enough," he ordered and one of the men stood behind John's chair pressed what looked like a cattle prod into the Wraith's chest. Sam saw the arcing of electricity and the Wraith roared in protest, but it pulled its hand from John's heaving chest. There was another growl from the Wraith as the guards pulled it further away from John and the metal gauntlet was snapped back around the feeding hand.
Sam fixed her eyes back on John. He was clearly still alive and seemed okay, apart from the bleeding feeding mark on his chest. He was clearly panting against the other side of his gag, and there seemed to be a tight paleness to his face. Was it just the poor video feed or did he already look a little older?
The new enemy of Atlantis stepped back in front of John, once again blocking him from Sam's view.
"From our experiments we have learnt that it takes three hours for the body to recover enough between feedings," the man stated. "I suggest that you reconsider your hard-line approach in that time."
The man nodded and the feed cut out, the screen in front of Sam going dark.
Her mind started working fast, going through all the options available to her as everyone around her started talking; all angry, anxious and panicked.
Sam turned towards Chuck. "Get the Elite up here, now."
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TBC