Chapter 34 – The Location
Oneakka gasped awake, panting into the blurry darkness around him.
Faint unfocused dots glowed high above in the darkness and soft cinders were falling against his face.
Burning.
He could smell something burning.
He blinked his eyelids hard, trying to bring focus to the blurs above him, and he was aware that everything sounded distant and echoing.
Burnt Wraith flesh.
The identification of the smell arrived out of an old damaging memory.
The fire burning around him, the Queen raging in her death that he'd brought upon her and all those in the base that had been built on the bones of his people. But her rage and the fire...a fire to die in. A pyre to his people.
He could feel the heat, the dancing orange and red, the burning pieces of the Wraith tech melting down the hallway walls around him.
He fell back away from her death throes, his own death a bitter taste of blood on his lips as the acid ate away at his face.
No!
That was years ago.
The old flashback slid back, but never all that far away.
He wasn't there anymore.
That was long ago.
It just tried to resurface in moments like these... Moments like these?
He blinked hard again, trying to focus his vision and his thoughts.
Moments like these?
Something was wrong.
Really wrong.
He realised that, as the dots above him started to focus a little, that he was lying on his back. Lying wasn't good.
He rocked to sit up.
Except pain crushed instantly through him, tearing away any renewed focus and sense. He heard his own scream of agony though, heard it echoing around, before he clenched his jaw tight, holding in any more cries that might give away his position.
Because he was on a Hive.
The Hive.
He had memories of falling, hitting things.
His head was throbbing even as the overwhelming wave of pain continued, but the agony had brought with it an old friend – adrenaline.
The hormone surged through him, abruptly sharpening his senses and, finally, his vision and hearing started to clear.
He blinked up at the towering sides of a tall hole, cut down through at least three floors of the Hive. He could actually see each level defined by the torn edges of corridors cut off around the towering hole.
He was lying at the bottom.
Burning – where was the burning smell coming from?
Carefully, he turned his head to the right and the partially burnt remains of a Wraith lay within arm's reach. That explained that then.
There was nothing else around the remains except large broken pieces of slightly burnt Hive – blocks of broken wall and flooring, scattered bits of structural bone, and other completely undecipherable bits of debris.
He turned his head to the left, the throbbing sensation in his head sharpening.
On his left, there were larger pieces of girder bone and another few Wraith bodies – all dead, though he felt more adrenaline shoot through his system at seeing them.
And next to one dead Wraith, lay one of his own knives, still within its scabbard. It was bent though, partially crushed under a large piece of nondescript Hive.
No immediate threats.
He looked back up the towering hole.
His head throbbed.
Concussion.
He'd had enough of those over the years to recognise that the throbbing wasn't too bad.
It was the other pain that was more worrying. It had receded just enough now that he could actually breathe properly. He drew in several deep breaths, but each inward breath sharpened his awareness of where the pain was coming from.
As was his awareness of the thick warm sensation under him.
He lifted his arms, both of them obeying him and both of them were intact as he lifted them into view. But they were stained with dark liquid. There wasn't enough light to see the red, but it was clearly his own blood pooling out under him.
He lowered his arms and took in some more breaths, focusing, and then lifted his head – just his head this time – and looked down his body.
He was indeed lying on his back, though his right hip was slightly higher, and he was fixed in place with a piece of Hive structural bone above him. No, not above him – through him.
He panted at the sight of the shard of Hive piercing up through his lower belly, protruding up between the broken bottom edge of his body armour and his inner right hip. Each panicked breath was making the pain worse though.
Medical kit.
He needed a medical kit.
Reaching down his right side, he slid his wet fingers to his holster – which was fortunately still around him – and followed the line of it under his back. It was higher than it should be, but then the shard through him would have moved it. It didn't necessarily mean the holster was broken.
If he couldn't find a medical kit...
He had to lift himself slightly on the shard to squeeze his fingers further under him, over one pouch and the hilt of his other knife still attached to his armour. He pushed his hand deeper, wiggling his fingers around to try and find the edge of the medical kit's case.
The pain was getting too much though, his vision dimming; his brain was overwhelmed with pain and he was probably losing a lot of blood.
He pushed his fingers onwards though and, suddenly, his fingertips brushed against a hard but slightly rough edge. The kit!
It was wet with his blood, but the rough case was designed to be easy to grip. How many times had he tested that over the years? Too many.
After pausing to breathe, the pain ebbed enough for him to start following the edge of the case to find the release clasp.
There – a thicker bit. With loud puffing breaths, he forced one fingertip into the clasp and suddenly it loosened.
He tugged the kit's case out from under him in rough pulls, uncaring now at the pain. He needed the case.
Free now from his back, he lifted up the small rectangular box and held it up. It wasn't broken – the thing designed to be practically indestructible. Not for the first time he did silently thank the designers of the tech.
He set the case on his chest and laid still for a few breaths. His head was hurting less now, but he could feel his hands were shaking and he was starting to feel cold.
Shock.
There was no time to waste.
In the faint glowing light, he reached up to his chest with both hands and pulled open the case. The sections inside folded up and out as the lid was freed. By memory and training alone, he pushed his fingers into the base of the case and found the blissful shape of the injector. He pulled out the metal tube and clasped it tightly in his right fist. He lifted his left arm and jabbed the injector into the inside of his elbow. He felt the hidden needle breach his skin and the cool flush of the injection pouring into him.
The effects were almost instant.
Pain relief and chemicals to reduce his body's inflammatory response.
He jabbed the injector into his arm again.
The effect of the medication increased as it poured around his bloodstream, and his head started to soothe; but it only made the burning, raging pain in his lower belly all the more intense.
He lifted his head and reached down to the shard sticking through him. With his shaking fingers he felt around the fist-wide bit of Hive until he found his own wet and broken skin.
The pressure hurt and he could feel blood seeping around his fingers at his touch, but he needed this. Taking snorting breaths, he jabbed the injector into the pain-filled flesh. He repeated the injections around the wound.
Five – no six, taken in total.
He laid back, gasping, and waited for the medication to kick in some more.
The shakes were reducing already.
He blinked up at the broken towering hole above him.
HALLING!
The memory hit him harder than the pain.
Halling was hunting the alien alone!
Sitayi' warning!
He had to move, get to Halling.
Had to save his friend.
He lifted his left hand back up into his view, but his sensor pad was gone, and with it his ability to send a warning, or even know where Halling was.
Was he already too late?
How long had he been unconscious?
Was Halling closing in on the unknown enemy now? Unaware and about to die!
Oneakka turned his head one way and then other, desperately looking for his pad.
There was nothing but bits of Hive and dead Wraith.
His radio link.
He reached up to his ear, but he could already tell that the earpiece had gone. So he reached to the collar edge of his armour, seeking out the trigger for the links, but he could already feel just a broken torn wire against his fingers.
He had nothing.
No way to get help to Halling.
No way to warn him!
Oneakka roared in frustrated, pain-filled anger.
It was stupid to do that, to draw the enemy to him, but the primitive raging cry oddly helped.
He might still have time to warn Halling. If he could find something to send a signal.
He lifted his head, looking up around at the edges of the hole soaring up around him. There was Wraith tech in the corridors up there – if he got to a console. Maybe he could call for help or signal Halling somehow.
He had to save Halling.
But he was useless lying here.
He reached for the medical kit, pushing the injector back into it, and closed the case with a snap. He set it carefully on the debris laden floor next to him; there were tubes of foam wound sealants inside that would hold the wound closed and help reduce blood loss...
He took several loud steadying breaths, willing himself up to the task, and reached down to the spear of Hive bone pierced through him.
He set his hands around the shard and started pulling himself up off it.
0000
"Damn it," John panted down at the stone floor under him. His legs and back hurt, probably from kicking at the mesh door, but maybe because he felt like he had just run a marathon.
He worked to breathe in enough air, clearing the light-headedness with some deep breaths. Though, the faint pain in the centre of his chest was a tad worrying.
He felt like he was sick, or exhausted after a weeklong mission.
The damn feedings had clearly made more of a mark than he'd realised on the way up here.
But, standing around feeling sorry for himself wasn't going to help get them out of the current bind.
He straightened up and, still breathing hard, contemplated this second mesh door. Why a mesh door for God's sake? It felt like a form of torture, because being able to see through it meant that he could clearly see the nice empty narrow corridor on the other side, which lead to a turning that, presumably, led to another flight of stairs up.
The Wraith had given up trying to find some purchase around the frame, but John examined it himself as his head started to clear and the chest pain faded.
The door had been well made, the frame a single thick bar of metal and the seal with the door was near perfect. He pulled out Marcos' knife and tried to work the point of the blade between the frame and the door, but there was no room. Okay so the metal was a no go, but maybe the stone around the frame? John redirected the knife up against the edge of the stone cut frame the door was fixed against. A few jabs with the sharp point of the bloodied knife proved the stone wasn't going anywhere soon.
Damn it.
"They're in the holding room," someone shouted from outside the first mesh door and John spun round to see a Genii goon appear at the top of the stairs on the other side of the door.
The Wraith, going with its instinct maybe, rushed towards the door, growling and hissing at the Genii. Despite the fact that the goon had the mesh door between him and the Wraith, the guy's own instinctive panic kicked in and he threw himself back from the door. That resulted in him colliding with another goon who had squeezed in behind him outside the door. The two Genii collided and started falling out of sight.
In a sudden rather comedic moment, John heard shouting, falling bodies and cursing as the Genii probably bowled down the stairs, taking out the others on the stairs with them.
That wouldn't hold them back for long though, so John hurried back to the first door, his eyes dropping to the patch job he'd done to fuse the door shut. It looked like a reasonably good plug of melted metal, but there were more than enough Genii goons out there to put their weight against it.
Another Genii appeared at the top of the stairs and the Wraith smacked his hands against the mesh door this time to frighten the new goon. This guy though didn't completely freak, but he did fire off the large Alliance stunner in his hand.
John pulled back quickly, but the bolt of energy simply blazed across the mesh door in a bright arc of light.
Okay, that explained the mesh doors then – they dissipated stunners. They were also probably going to be good at stopping bullets too, which was a win right now.
And he needed a win.
"Stop firing!" a voice commanded from stairs and the stunner-firing Genii was shoved back against the wall as a new goon appeared.
She was the first female Genii John had seen here, and she had the look that suggested she'd probably been working with Kolya for a long time. She had to be in her sixties, but she had the tough calm and strong-shouldered build of a woman who had been in the military a long time.
She frowned angrily through the mesh and started shoving at the door.
John reached forward without thinking, pressing both his palms hard against the door to brace it. The Wraith did the same next to him, but, fortunately, the door didn't budge. The woman shoved harder, getting her shoulder against it, and another Genii appeared beside her in the confined space and started pushing at the door as well.
John pushed all the power he could into the door, feeling the mesh imprinting into his palms with the force.
The Wraith hissed at the Genii loudly and the male goon smacked the butt of his stunner against the other side of the mesh to the Wraith's hands, trying to dislodge them. The Wraith just growled at them.
The woman gave up after another shoulder barge and peered down at the edge of the door and the open bolt. John looked down at his patch job from his side.
The Genii woman cursed something and lifted her Genii radio.
"Pranos, this is Cario," she announced into the radio, glaring at John through the mesh. "We've got them trapped up in the side exit holding space, but they've managed to seal the inner door shut; we can't get to them. The Wraith is injured."
"Understood," Pranos' voice echoed out of her radio and out of the one clipped on John's belt. "I'm on my way up."
The woman narrowed her eyes through the mesh. "Be advised, they have one of our radio links; I recommend going to emergency channel."
"Do it," Pranos replied, his voice sounding slightly winded over the radio waves.
The woman lowered her radio and glared at John with a real nasty science teacher revealing a spot test kind of way. "You're just delaying the inevitable, Sheppard."
"Any delay is good in my books," John told her. "Gives my wife and the other Elite time to get here and start kicking Genii butt."
The Genii behind Cario looked real worried at that suggestion, but Cario didn't seem impressed and simply turned away, heading back down the stairs. "Find me a cutting torch," she barked loudly at her unseen minions.
Pranos was on his way and they were going to start cutting through the patch job on the door, so John had little time to find a way out of here.
He turned away from the door and considered the small room around them. Maybe there was another one of those hidden Genii doorways in one of the walls, but, as he looked round the room, it was pretty obvious that the space had been cut right out of the same hard rock.
The only thing in the room, besides the two mesh doors, was a wooden bench along the far wall, two wooden boxes, and a blanket lying on top of them.
And sunlight!
John snapped his attention up to the short but wide windows set right at the top of the left hand wall, set up right where the wall met the high ceiling. Sunlight meant that they were almost at the surface!
He headed across the room, trying to peer up to see through the glass, but the windows were too high. He headed to the foot of the wall and tried stretching up on his toes, but he was a good couple of feet short. The bench!
As he hurried towards the single piece of available furniture, he heard the Wraith groan loudly and he looked round to see it sagging against the wall, clutching its side. There were three very obvious bullet-holes in the side turned towards John, and he knew there were more in the creature's other side. The wounds weren't bleeding anymore, but the Wraith had said it was in trouble. It needed to feed again...well, it could stay well away from him.
"You still with me?" John asked the Wraith as he lifted the small bench and carried it to the wall holding the windows.
"I am with you," the Wraith seemed to pant out as it leant back against the opposite wall.
"Good, because we've got to get out of here before they find a way to cut through that door," John told it.
The bench up against the wall, John climbed up onto it carefully, but it felt pretty sturdy. He reached up again and this time his fingers just about reached the little lip of the windowsill above him. He still needed some more height.
The boxes.
He jumped down from the bench and headed to the wooden boxes piled on the floor. They were covered with a slightly mud-speckled blanket, which he dumped aside. The empty box on top was far too small, so he threw that aside as well and picked up the larger one underneath. Oddly, it was filled with what looked like potatoes. John turned the box over, dumping the potatoes on the floor, and hurried back to the bench. If he could maybe break one of the windows...
"You think you are going to fit through one of those?" The Wraith chuckled from across the small room.
"Maybe," John answered as he set the box on the bench, open top down, and started carefully climbing up onto the pile. His boots only just fit on the box, but it had given him another foot of height and, this time, his fingers easily reached the little windowsill of the window above him. Only, it turned out to be a real narrow sill and he could only get half the length of his fingers up onto it. Still, it gave him enough grip to start pulling himself up. Getting his boots against the wall, he managed to clamber up enough to be able to peer up over the ledge of his hands to the window.
The glass was dirty, but through it he could see grass - little tuffs of grass and, beyond them, shifting shadows.
John's grip abruptly gave out, his fingers having numbed out, and he started falling. He tried to grab back up at the windowsill, but it was no good. His boots hit the box, crushing it under his weight, and he tumbled off the bench and onto the hard stone floor.
The landing hurt, really hurt, knocking the air right out of him and the room spun around him. He gasped in, the air dirty and dusty, but the deep breaths drew oxygen back into his body and the room started to settle around him.
This really was the shittiest day he'd ever lived, and there had been some real contenders in that list.
He rolled onto his back, though something momentarily dug into the back of his left shoulder. He lifted his shoulder and a potato rolled away.
The windows glowed ruefully above John, their murky light seeming especially depressing now.
He rolled onto his left side, his body filled with sharp pins and needles as he pushed himself up off the floor. As he sat up, the Wraith appeared into his view and stooped down to pick up the still rolling potato.
"Can you reach up there?" John asked the Wraith as he indicated the little windows.
The Wraith looked up from the potato in his pale hand to the sunlight coming through the murky glass. "There is no point now."
John frowned at the defeatist attitude as he finally got back onto his feet. Beyond the Wraith, two Genii were still watching through the sealed mesh door.
"We are trapped and even if we could escape, there is no hope for me now," the Wraith muttered. "A pity; I had hoped to see the stars again," he sighed as he dropped the potato.
"If we can get up to the surface, maybe you could feed on another one of those goons," John suggested, not really liking himself for being on the side of a Wraith right now.
"Even if I did feed," the Wraith uttered as it looked up towards the windows again, "I would not make it to the Portal. There is a Human city up there."
John's heart rose at that announcement though. "Really?"
The Wraith nodded as he tilted his head. "Those sounds I heard, now I hear them clearly. Humans, many of them, carts moving, many voices," the creature's voice dropped away as it winced in apparent pain.
"We could still make a run for the Gate; they might be simple farmers up there without any weapons," John suggested weakly, unsure why he felt the need to make the Wraith feel better about its situation. Maybe so it didn't try to feed on him again.
"No," the Wraith shook its head, its white hair dancing around its green-tinged face. "They are not farmers. We are in the Armoured Herd's territory."
"Armoured Herd?" John repeated the weird term. Armoured? As in weaponized? "You mean the Alliance?" He realised.
The Wraith let out a heavy breath as it nodded.
They were on an Alliance planet? John turned to look up at the windows again, only he suddenly realised what that probably meant - they were on a Genii planet. It was probably one of the Genii Confederation's planets that the Genii representatives back on Athos always blustering on about.
Crap.
"Major Sheppard?" Pranos' voice echoed up the stairs outside the sealed mesh door.
John sighed as the disgusting Genii came into view, the other Genii shifting out the way for him.
"You've made an interesting choice," Pranos said, his head turning towards the Wraith, "and gotten yourself trapped with a badly injured Wraith." Pranos looked back at John. "Exactly how long do you think it will be until it feeds on you again?"
John couldn't help glancing at the Wraith, who was noticeably wavering on its feet.
John looked back at Pranos. "I'd rather be in here with him than out there with you."
"How do you think this situation will play out, Major?" Pranos asked in a real condescending tone.
"I'm thinking I'll just wait in here for the Elite to turn up," John answered him.
"The Elite are not coming to save you," Pranos replied with his evil snake smile. "And we have the advantage. We will storm through these doors and you will both be killed."
"And how is that any different from what you had planned for us back in the cells?" John pointed out.
"If you surrender yourself now," Pranos replied, "we will only kill the Wraith."
John frowned at that. If he was trapped in with a dying Wraith and they were going to storm through both doors soon anyway, why bother to try to persuade him out?
"And then what?" John asked, "We'll all go and have a coffee together and laugh about how you almost murdered me with a Wraith?"
Pranos frowned. "You still have some life left in you," he tried next. "You could live out the last of your days in more comfortable accommodation in the cells."
"That sounds like a real thrilling offer and all," John replied sarcastically, "but I'd rather stay in here."
Pranos glared through the mesh. "This is only going to end one of two ways, Major Sheppard. Either we breach the room and kill you both, or the Wraith will kill you first."
To John's mind, he couldn't see why either of those options would be a problem for Pranos, considering they were going to kill him anyway. So, either something had changed, or his being up here was threat to Pranos and Kolya's plan somehow.
"Then you will die trapped in there with the Wraith," Pranos concluded.
John glanced up at the dirty windows. What if those on the surface didn't know he was down here, or might try to help him if he got out? Maybe Pranos was even worried about his little operation being found out.
John turned to look at the second mesh door. None of Pranos' goons had come through it yet, so why not? Maybe getting up and round to this side entrance wasn't all that easy, or, maybe, there was some risk to Pranos' goons in being seen moving around on the surface.
Whatever the reasons, Pranos clearly didn't like him and the Wraith being up here; which meant that perhaps things were not as hopeless as John had first thought.
"No, I think I'll stay in here," John turned to face Pranos again, holding the guy's gaze through the mesh.
Pranos glared back.
Yep, now John was even more certain that being up here had some advantage.
"You are only delaying the inevitable," Pranos stated.
John crossed his arms. "Fine."
Pranos shook his head as if he couldn't understand John's choice, but then the goon was an idiot.
"As I see it," John added. "I'm now closer to the surface for when Atlantis, and my Elite wife, turn up to save me."
The two Genii faces just in view behind Pranos both looked at each other worriedly.
Pranos though just shook his head again. "You have no idea where you are."
"In the Alliance?" John returned.
"No one is going to find you on this planet, Major," Pranos smiled.
"That's not what you and your goons were arguing about earlier when my Wraith friend and I snuck past your guards," John pointed out. "The Elite are hunting you and, since they make their living tracking and killing Wraith, I'd imagine a bunch of Kolya's excommunicated thugs will be easy to find. Then there's my people, who have all the Ancient tech in Atlantis focused on finding you. We've taken down ancient alien races who enslave people before, so you'll be a no-brainer."
Pranos gave a fake bark of a laugh. "I had tried to be reasonable with you, but clearly you would prefer to kill yourself."
"And what do you think my people and the Elite are going to do when all they find is my dead body? You don't think they'll just forget about it and not hunt you down?" John asked, the question more for the other Genii ears listening in the stairwell.
Pranos leant closer to the metal mesh. "They won't find your body," he threatened.
"So letting them think I might still be alive but still your prisoner is going to help stop them from hunting you?" John asked doubtfully.
Pranos glared as he let out a frustrated snort. "We'll be coming through both of these doors very soon, Major Sheppard. If you haven't been fed on by the Wraith by that time, you'll meet your end at the fire of Genii weapons."
And with that final threat, Pranos turned and stomped back down the stairs, disappearing from view. "Cut through the inner door and get the surface team round to the other door NOW," he shouted to the other goons.
"Yes, Pranos," John heard Cairo reply. "Where is that cutting torch?!" She demanded.
Okay so Pranos was sending a team over the surface to the side entrance after all. John turned towards the second mesh door, contemplating the easy access Pranos' goons would have, with the bolt being on the outside.
He considered whether it was worth fusing that second door shut like the first, but then he and the Wraith would literally have no way out.
The only chance they had was to wait in here for rescue, or fight their way out once the Genii stormed the room.
John glanced round at the Wraith, who looked back at him with an equally grim expression.
This really was the shittiest day ever.
00000
The floor under Oneakka's elbows cut into his skin, the crumbled and broken pieces unstable as he crawled across them. The 'floor' of the hole wasn't a floor, it was just the top of the pile of debris and broken bodies that had collapsed down here. That he'd landed on the top had been the only thing that had saved him...so far at least.
He'd nearly passed out twice getting himself off the shard of Hive that had tried to gut him through. Sat off it, he'd managed to get the wound full of the foaming sealer from the medical kit and had smeared several packets of antiseptic clotting gel over the result. He'd only had one bandage still in a holster pouch, which he'd wrapped around his middle, squeezing it as tight as he could without almost passing out again.
He wasn't good.
He shouldn't move, shouldn't do anything that would only pump more of his blood out of the gaping hole through him.
He should stay still and wait for rescue.
But Halling didn't know what he was facing.
Oneakka had to find a way to warn him.
He'd tried to find anything helpful during the crawl across the 'floor' of the hole, but there was nothing useful.
The crawling had taken so much though. His right leg wasn't working right, but his knees were holding him up, mostly.
His suspected concussion had turned out to be an actual head-wound, as warm blood was dribbling down his forehead and into his left eye as soon as he had started crawling. It wasn't a lot, so he could wait to deal with it once he got to the side of the littered hole.
Blinking the blood out of his eyelashes, he lifted his head enough to see the torn edge of a corridor floor in the wall that was his target.
Shifting one elbow and then one knee forward, he shuffle crawled his way the last few feet to the wall. Something sticky and slimy slid under one elbow, probably dead Wraith webbing, but he kept on.
The pain was a little better, or, at least, more easily ignorable because of the medication. But, he knew he'd taken almost the maximum he could risk taking, so there wasn't much more space to use it again. He had to ration it.
Because he couldn't slow down.
He had to warn Halling.
It became a mantra in his head with each painful shift of right elbow, left knee, left elbow, right knee...
For Halling.
The wall came up fast and he reached for it, the broken edges a bizarrely welcomed touch. One more crawl of each elbow, each knee, and he reached the wall and sagged against it gratefully.
The darkness threatened him.
The Queen was raging in the fire, his face burning.
No!
He pushed away the darkness, and the flashback with it, as he snapped his eyes open and clenched his left fist tightly, digging his nails into his palm. He needed to stay conscious. Stay.
At least until...
Halling. He had to know Halling was safe.
Had to warn Halling.
He lowered his eyes to see drips of blood were falling from his forehead onto his thigh.
He had to deal with the head wound.
He still had the medical case, clasped tightly in his right fist. He pulled it open again on his thigh and pulled out the last small tube of foam sealant that still had a bit in it. He reached up to his head, following the trail of blood through his hair to find a long jagged cut along the top left side of his head, running backwards. He squeezed out the last of the foam along it as best he could, rubbing it across the wound, and then pulled out the last packet of antiseptic gel, and just smeared it over his head generally. He then wiped the last bits of gel across his forehead and wiped the blood from his face as best he could.
It would have to be enough.
He pulled back from the wall to look up it.
The edge of the dissected corridor on the next level up was directly above him and maybe ten feet up – not even twice his height. But it could have been as high as a mountain right now.
"For Halling."
He reached up to the broken edges of the wall above him, bits of debris falling away, but there were jagged ends of bone girders and supports that could make decent handholds.
He tried lifting his weight slightly to test one.
His belly screamed at him.
He let go of the handhold and huddled down against the wall again.
This wasn't going to work like this.
With shaking hands, he picked up the medical kit that had fallen off his thigh, and opened it again. He pulled out the injector.
He could take two more doses before it became dangerous.
He jabbed the injector into the inside of his arm.
And then once more.
He dropped the injector and the medical case – they were useless to him now.
The medication swamped into his system. It didn't kill the pain entirely, but it created a fuzziness that seemed to push the pain into distant numbness. It was designed to keep you alert but still be effective, but he was aware that his hearing and focus reduced a bit.
He couldn't waste the time the medication would last.
He shuffled out from the wall and reached up to the abandoned handhold. Taking a hard grip, the antiseptic gel a clingy sticky coating over his palm, he pulled himself upwards.
He grabbed another handhold and pulled, resting his chest forward against the wall as best he could until he managed to get his feet under him.
He panted hard, wavering up on his feet, before tilting his head back.
It had taken him halfway towards the floor, but he needed to get the rest of the way.
"For Halling," he whispered as he reached up, searching the broken edges for a handhold. A piece of bone was nauseatingly familiar, but it made a good hold. He reached up with his other hand and grabbed hold of another piece of jutting bone.
His belly complained at the stretch, but he was able to ignore it. For now.
He pulled, his arms straining hard, and the front of his armour grating against the edges sticking out of the wall as he pulled himself up.
His feet left the floor.
He lifted his right knee and jammed it into a gap in the wall, and pulled again.
The air stank of blood and burnt flesh as he jammed the toes of his left boot into the wall, and pushed up. The foothold almost gave way, but he braced with his arms and lifted his left foot higher.
It had worked to get him higher up the wall, but his vision dimmed and he could feel his belly tearing open around the foam, warm blood dribbling down his lower belly and into his trousers.
He ignored it though, and reached up with his left hand, scrabbling around overhead to find a handhold higher up.
For Halling.
His seeking fingers suddenly touched against a smoother surface – the edge of the corridor floor! He was almost there, but he couldn't find anything to hold onto, so he had to lower his expectations of a grip. Just under the floor level, he felt a long torn edge that was probably the structural support for the floor, and he got a good grip around that instead.
He pulled, aware that the foggy distance from the pain was reducing, his back and belly starting to feel agonising again.
He had no time.
Halling had no time.
He shoved his right knee into the wall, then his left boot, and reached up with his left hand to gasp more of the floor structural support. If he could get one forearm on it, he could lever himself up onto the corridor floor.
His right leg was shaking and his right knee slid out from the wall.
He gripped onto his handholds and pulled, his armour making horrific scraping sounds against the wall. If it cut through...
Suddenly he was higher and he shoved his left boot repeatedly against the wall until he found a good little hollow to wedge it. He slid his left forearm onto the ledge of the floor support just above his head, and heaved.
His wound definitely split open this time, but the corridor was suddenly in view. He pushed his arm downwards, pulled with his right hand and pushed with his left boot, and, abruptly, he was up and over.
His chest hit the corridor floor, bending him in half right above his wound, with his legs still hanging over the edge.
The world spun, his view of the corridor narrowing down to a dark tunnel, but he'd seen that before. He wedged his elbows forward and under his chest, pushed against the wall with his left boot, and wriggled himself up and onto the floor of the corridor.
His elbows gave out under the last push though, and he collapsed forward onto his front, his cheek meeting the hard surface of the corridor's floor in a rush.
He was out of the hole, but it had taken too much.
He wheezed against the floor, his body heavy and cold chills racing up his back.
The darkness squeezed in again, and this time he felt like he was sinking into it, his belly burning and his blood escaping out beneath him.
0000
"This one," Teyla said as she indicated the planet on the latest star map and Dr Zelenka, as he had for each she had indicated, sought out the corresponding Portal address for the planet from the Ancestral computer. The address appeared on his computer screen and slid into the long list they had been collating.
She had identified all of the Genii Confederation worlds on Atlantis' star maps and had then moved on to planets that she knew had held an old Genii outpost. There were likely far more than the Elite knew about, but at least the planets known were on the list ready for when the actual location of where Kolya was holding John was identified by the Facility.
Teyla checked her Earth timepiece. There was still plenty of time until John's captors were expected to dial back to Atlantis with their final threats. Hopefully the Facility should have a location by that point; though, with the battle no doubt raging in the Arkinian System, all eyes and focus was directed on that victory.
Or perhaps it was already over and the Hive was once again loose in Alliance space.
Or perhaps it had been destroyed already.
Were Halling and Oneakka safe?
She had no way to know any answers until the Facility made contact, until John was saved.
"I have added it to the list," Dr Zelenka remarked, but the comment was clearly a polite way of drawing her attention back to their task.
She focused back on the star maps displayed on the scientist's computer at the back of Atlantis' Control Room. She had been initially thrown by the star maps, since their view of Alliance space was from an entirely different angle, but Dr Zelenka had been able to turn the views and identify the Athosian system for her. From there, she had been able to identify all the Genii planets and moons.
There were too many though.
Too many to search in time.
And they could not show their hand too soon, for if Cowen discovered Atlantis was sending cloaked Ancestral ships onto their Confederation worlds, the political backlash could be considerable and limit any further searches. And if Kolya found out, he might see John as too much of a liability to hold alive any longer.
They had to restrict their search for when the exact location was identified by the Facility. Fortunately, Colonel Carter agreed and remained steadfastly patient in the plan.
Colonel Sumner was not as calm, and had been complaining about the plan for some time at the front of the Control Room. Si was up there with him, Colonel Carter, and General O'Neill discussing the options and waiting out the time it would take for the Facility to find the answer they needed.
The plan had been decided upon and would involve Atlantis dialling the target Portal and starting a radio conversation with those on the other side, which would allow time for the cloaked ship to head through. Even if the Genii on the other side became aware of something, the ship would be through and in the air to search and retrieve John.
If John was still alive for them to rescue.
She blinked at the star map, working away the panicked fear in her heart. "Can you show this system?" she asked Dr Zelenka and he increased the magnification to one particular star on the map. She frowned at the resulting display; there were four planets around one large blue star. No, that was not the one she was thinking. "And pull back again," she instructed and, once again, Dr Zelenka altered the view without comment.
The Portal suddenly activated.
"Unscheduled off-world activation!" Chuck stated loudly from the front of the room.
Teyla shot up from her seat as everyone else looked forward, the tension in the room reaching a renewed peak. As she moved around from behind Dr Zelenka's console, Teyla once again consulted the time. It was still too early for it to be Pranos...unless something had happened to John...
The others were already gathering around the large display screen, but all eyes remained on Chuck as they all waited to hear who it would be.
Teyla silently prayed it would be the Facility as she reached Si' side at the screen. His dark eyes lowered to meet hers and she saw the wealth of compassion in his expression; the time was almost upon them for whatever was to come.
Please be the Facility...
The wormhole blasted to life in the large room next door and Teyla took a deep breath.
"Receiving Athos IDC," Chuck announced a moment later and Teyla released her breath with desperate relief. "Usual signal coming in."
"On screen, Chuck," Colonel Carter instructed as she moved up to Teyla's side, both of them, as they had so often today, turning towards the shifting image.
Vakalis appeared.
Teyla knew instantly that something had changed, for he was no longer in the Governing Complex and was instead down in the stationhouse by the Portal. He also had a slightly dirty cloak wrapped around his shoulders, ready to cover his uniform as part of a disguise - he was ready to deploy.
"Honoured Elite," he bowed his head with a short crisp movement. "I have news from the Facility," he stated.
"The location?" Teyla asked.
"Yes," he replied. "And it is not what we expected."
Teyla blinked at that – she had not been aware that they were expecting any planet in particular.
"The Facility have confirmed the result as accurate and have even been able to identify which area of the planet the transmission originated," Vakalis explained quickly, his words hurried but precise.
"Where?" Teyla demanded.
"The Genii homeworld."
Teyla blinked. Vakalis was correct – it was the last planet within the Confederation that she would have expected.
"And it came from a sector of First City," Vakalis added.
"First City?" Colonel Carter asked.
"Their largest surface city," Teyla explained, aware of Si talking quietly with General O'Neill off to one side. "Where the Portal stands and where Genii Parliament sits."
"The Facility have provided us with the exact sector of First City, but it will be only once we are on the ground that we will be able to refine the exact location," Vakalis continued.
"Are you ready to deploy now?" Teyla checked, her mind turning.
"Yes," Vakalis replied with a sharp nod. "We have the day's traders all amassed at the Portal and the Genii have given Leader Torren permission to send through the essential trade items at a time of our choosing through the high alert."
"Good," Teyla nodded, pleased with the plan. "We will dial into the homeworld as soon as it is free after you. We will be deploying in a cloaked Ancestral craft."
Vakalis' eyebrows lifted only a fraction at the plan involving sending a concealed ship through. "A good idea," he nodded. "We will use emergency v alpha radio links channel and will start towards the location once we're through."
"We will make contact with you the moment we are through the Portal," Teyla agreed.
"To victory," Vakalis stated and reached forward, cutting off the signal without further need for discussion. The large screen went dark and, a second later, the Portal shutdown.
The Genii homeworld?
Kolya's plan was even bolder than she had suspected. To hold John just under Cowen's nose!
"The Major is being held in the Genii capital city?" Colonel Sumner stated angrily. "Cowen's city?!"
"Could Cowen be behind this?" Mr Woolsey put in as he stepped up to join the impromptu discussion.
"That does not matter," Teyla cut through the distracting discussion and turned to face Colonel Carter. "We need to deploy."
The City Lead nodded, but Teyla could see her mind working and her blue eyes shifted aside as General O'Neill and Si moved closer. "What kind of defences are there around the homeworld's Gate?" She asked.
"Extensive," Si replied.
"A shield?" The Colonel asked.
"No," Si replied. "But they have weapons quite capable of targeting ships coming through the Portal."
"They will not be able to detect the cloaked Ancestral ship," Teyla pointed out, her temper abruptly threatening to break.
"But if nothing comes through only for a large ripple to pass over the wormhole and the wind to move..." Si made the annoyingly logical point. "They may expect one of Atlantis' craft to invade to visit Cowen considering the situation. General O'Neill and I have an idea though."
"I go through, maybe with Dick here too," General O'Neill explained their plan as he indicated the rather shocked looking Mr Woolsey, "with a team; we make a big hoo-ha demanding to see Cowen. That should give enough of a distraction so the Jumper's not so obvious coming through."
"It also allows a good cover explanation for our return through the Portal," Si added. "A sudden unexplained dial-out through the homeworld Portal would be suspicious, but if we time the withdrawal with General O'Neill and Dick's return back here, that should work."
Colonel Carter nodded, her eyes shifting to General O'Neill. "Let's do it."
No more was said, for everyone broke apart, heading where they needed to be for the mission. Teyla quickly followed Colonel Sumner's back towards the stairs that led up to the Ancestral craft bay.
As she started up the stairs, Si arrived at her side. "Could this be Cowen after all?" He asked as they hurried up after the Colonel's back.
"No," Teyla disagreed. "This is Kolya. It makes even more sense for it to be him. Cowen is many things – arrogant, aggressive, and a tyrant – but he has never been stupid. Why take Major Sheppard only to hold him in your main city, near where you live and hold Government? Why not down in the underground cities where John would never have a chance of being found."
"That is true," Si agreed as they turned along the short landing to the next flight of stairs. As they did, Teyla became aware that Dr McKay was following close behind them, apparently to join them on the mission. "And of all the locations that we thought Sheppard is being held, the homeworld was never a real consideration."
Teyla nodded. "Exactly. It does nothing but apparently implicate Cowen, which he would never allow. This is Kolya's work and it is still all about destabilising Cowen's rule. Even if the Elite do not believe it is Cowen, the political damage will have been done and it will be all the excuse his enemies need to discredit Cowen and encourage Kolya's followers to rise up."
"It also explains the live transmission," Si noted as they turned up another flight of stairs.
"Kolya knew we would eventually be able to locate the source of the transmission," Teyla agreed. "So he made sure it would only lead back to Cowen and implicate him."
"You realise that there is no direct evidence of Koyla's involvement in Sheppard's abduction," Si noted. "Nothing except maybe Sheppard."
Teyla understood his point, for she had thought of it as well. "It may be that Kolya was not present during John's capture," she considered, aware that she had let John's personal name slip out.
"Even if Kolya wasn't there," Si replied as they reached the top of the stairs and followed Colonel Sumner down the dark corridor towards the open doorway into the bay. "Sheppard may have overheard some of the plan or Kolya's name."
Teyla knew the point he was driving towards but was not saying for the sake of her feelings.
"They will kill him before we can reach him," Teyla stated the point directly, though her throat caught a little in the words. "The plan to distract the Genii at the Portal will help."
"They are holding him down in a bunker," Si pushed the point as they entered the Ancestral bay. Directly ahead, in the centre of the space, one ship stood with its back hatch open and already full of the teams for the mission.
"We shall just have to reach the bunker in time to stop them," Teyla stated, feeling irrationally angry with Si. He was only stating the truth; it was just that she didn't want to hear it. For there was little she could do about that aspect of the plan. All she could do was get to the bunker as quickly as possible.
Ahead, Colonel Sumner had reached the Ancestral ship and was hurrying up the back hatchway.
"John is highly resourceful," Teyla stated to Si as she lengthened her stride to power herself forward, "he will do all he can to fight for his life."
She reached the hatchway and strode up into the back of the ship, Si and Dr McKay following her into the busy space. Moving forward through the ship, Teyla focused on the front window. She would need to provide directions for the pilot and converse with Colonel Sumner on the mission once they were through the Portal.
Hopefully the Honour Guard would already be on Genii soil and tracking the location of John's prison, ready for their arrival.
Then it would be up to fate and battle to decide.
For one of only a handful of times in her life, Teyla silently prayed to the Ancestors. She had never truly believed that they could hear, or actually react, to such prayers, regardless of what Father and the rest of her people believed. However, today, she was happy to beg for any help available in saving John. After all, she was currently surrounded by Ancestor technology, in their ancient city, and about to try and rescue one of their literal descendents, so surely, if they could, they would help.
If she could just get to John in time.
Time to save him.
Time to reach him, even if the Wraith had stolen the last of his years. If she could just hold him one last time, even if it was to share his last moments with him.
In that, she could not let him down.
She did not know what she would do if she failed him again.
000000
TBC