Thanks for all of the reviews. They keep me motivated to type. This is a difficult story to piece together so I hope what I want to say is actually being conveyed in the story.
I'm trying to update as quickly as possible without compromising the story.
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Sheppard awoke abruptly, a scream catching in his throat, choking him, as he righted himself. He wiped a hand across his perspiring forehead and pushed himself out of his sleeping bag in one refined motion.
He spent a moment reorienting himself as consciousness chased away his nightmares.
He could hear light snoring in the distance as the wind whistled over his tent.
He remembered. He was off-world with his recruits.
He recovered his P90, pulled on his tac vest and unzipped his tent as quietly as he could.
The bracing night air on his crawling skin was bliss and he scrubbed his hands over his face and through his disheveled hair before seeking out Adams and another kid called King, who had taken over from his watch.
He found the two men in a similar position to where he had left them and strolled over with a leisurely gait, "I'll take over," he said as he looked up at the starry sky.
Sheppard could sense that King was checking his watch and when he spoke he could hear the confusion in his voice, "But, we've only been on watch for an hour and a half. We've still got another hour to go."
Sheppard nodded, "I know. Go on, get some sleep."
King and Adams exchanged looks.
"That's an order," Sheppard stated in a tone devoid of authority.
He didn't have the energy or the inclination to have an argument. He had had too many of those lately. He just wanted them to accept his words and leave.
He flicked his hand dismissively, "Hey, I'm doing you two a favour. It won't happen again," he said quirking an eyebrow as he leant against the tree.
"Thanks sir," Adams stated tiredly.
When they had gone, Sheppard shivered and started moving from one foot to the other in a bid to stay warm. Somehow, he didn't think his shivering was down to the cold though.
------------------
All hell broke loose.
Four wraith had descended from the darkness, dropping soundlessly from the bowels of the Hive ship.
An imperceptible fear and uncertainness pulsated in the air as Sheppard realized the true extent of his men's inexperience. They had never seen such strange beings, and much less knew how to deal with them.
Sheppard depressed the trigger on his P90 and fired a torrent of bullets into the closest wraith and staccato gunfire echoed around him from his fearful men, as the wraith stepped forwards.
"Fallback!" Sheppard shouted.
His men began to creep backwards, fear overriding their previous concerns regarding their CO's leadership abilities, and Sheppard followed them through the yawning exit that lead back through the confusing corridors.
They were running through the organic corridors, their P90 lights cutting through the darkness, casting eerie shadows across the walls, when Laraby slowed and shouted, "What about the men back there?"
Sheppard turned to him and quickly glanced over his shoulder, "They're already dead," he said in a hollow tone.
It was the truth. No point in sugar coating it.
"But they were alive," Laraby said as he glared at the other members of his team, willing them to side with him, "We have to try."
Desperation laced his voice.
Sheppard shook his head, "We'll fallback and formulate a new plan."
Laraby worked his jaw and shook his head defiantly, "I'm going back."
"No, you're not," Sheppard stated sharply.
It was in this moment that Sheppard saw a lot of himself in Laraby. He had been on the other end of a discussion similar to this a few years ago and he'd acted the same.
Laraby turned to leave and Sheppard reached out and grabbed him by his shoulder, spinning him to face him. Sheppard was surprised when Laraby lashed out, pushing him back against the wall with untapped strength and saying, "I'm going!"
Sheppard pushed Laraby off him and gripped him by his tactical vest, "You are not going back. That's an order!"
Laraby shrugged Sheppard off, "You of all people." He spat, "Come on….this is what you're best at. You defied Starks orders…….you're a damn hypocrite."
Sheppard grit his teeth, "And look what happened. It got people killed." Sheppard moved into Laraby's personal space, "We'll go back, but not yet. We need to find a defensive position because trust me……we're going to need to if we have any chance of getting out of here alive."
Laraby stepped back, smoothed down his vest and shook his head.
"What the hell were those things Sir?" Cole asked from behind him.
Sheppard kept his eyes on Laraby's, "They're the Wraith."
"I knew you knew something," Laraby stated.
Sheppard pulled his LSD out of his tactical vest and watched the blinking red dots that were advancing on their position. He showed it to Laraby.
"They're coming. We need to get in position."
Laraby looked back over his shoulder as if he was still considering running.
"We're going back to that room," Sheppard said.
Laraby closed his eyes briefly. Common sense won over and with a heavy sigh he nodded and reluctantly followed Sheppard's lead.
---------------------
"Okay," Sheppard called out as his men lined up in front of him, "Major Lorne's team has gone to an undisclosed location, and we are going to find them."
He paced back and forth, watching the dark clouds above him roll ominously.
"The objective is to capture and detain the opposite team, but…" he held up a finger, "If you are hit by paint then you are out."
He could see that his teams faces were lit up, raring to go, excited and pumped up with adrenaline.
"This is a game," Sheppard announced, "So have some fun, but remember in real combat situations, you get hit, you don't get a second chance."
The first spot of rain fell onto his arm.
"Okay, fallout!"
His men started to get suited up. They were still wearing full gear, the paint, Sheppard had been assured would wash off and each of his men still had their P90's and 9mils on hand just in case.
Now for the fun part.
-------------------------------
"Now!" Sheppard called out.
Each of his men stepped out from their respective hiding places and peppered a barrage of bullets into the oncoming wraith. There were only three, which meant that that the fourth one had stayed behind.
Their bullets didn't seem to be making much of a dent in the wraiths demeanor and they kept on coming, intent on feeding.
Sheppard watched as wraith number one produced a stunner.
"Get out of the way!" he shouted through the din.
Before the wraith could fire the stunner, Sheppard ran forwards and used his weight to tackle the wraith to the ground. They became entangled, both struggling for purchase, hands grappling with material to keep the other pinned. Sheppard managed to roll off the wraith, retrieving his P90 in the process and launched a torrent of bullets into its side.
Black blood spurted onto the floor but it did nothing to slow the wraith. It got to its feet, reached out for Sheppard's tactical vest and hauled him up.
"You cannot hope to defeat us," it rasped.
Sheppard could sense his men standing there in muted fear as they watched his feet leave the ground.
"Fire your weapons!" he shouted as the wraith tossed him back.
Sheppard felt his back connect with the wall and he slid down to his hands and knees. The air was shoved from his lungs, leaving him woozy and breathless. His ears were ringing as he shook his head and as he tried to stand, he found himself staggering from dizziness. He steadied himself, blinked a few times, and then readjusted his hold on his gun.
He pushed himself off the wall towards Cole and Martins, who were stunned before he could reach them. They dropped to the ground soundlessly, their guns clattering ineffectually beside them. Sheppard knew that sensation all too well and had been on the receiving end of a stun blast more times than he could remember. Cole and Martins had only taken glancing stunner blows, but it would still leave them immobilised for quite some time.
Maybe ten-fifteen minutes.
Too long.
The wraith then turned and began to stalk confidently over to Andrews and Collins, a sneer curling it's pale features.
"Sir!"
Sheppard turned to look over his shoulder to where Laraby was battling it out with another of the wraith.
Wraith number two.
Laraby was stepping back and trying to reload his weapon with shaking fingers.
Sheppard turned to Collins and Andrews.
He was torn.
"Help Laraby!" Collins called out as he rammed another cartridge into his P90 and depressed the trigger effortlessly.
Deciding Laraby was more in need of his help, Sheppard ran over to him.
He used the butt of his P90 to slam it into the wraith's temple. It was sent backwards screeching in agony.
"What the hell are these things?" Laraby asked as he watched the wraith right itself.
It was the kind of thing you imagined to be hiding under your bed as a child. The stuff of nightmares. They had incredible strength and a strange fighting technique.
Sheppard stepped in front of Laraby and depressed the trigger on his P90.
Laraby followed his lead, sending his own bullets into the wraith as it advanced on them.
As its body was packed with bullets it jerked and weaved drunkenly, but still, it moved towards them.
Suddenly, a shrill scream cut through the chamber and sent a shiver through Sheppard.
"Oh my-" Laraby was sidetracked, rooted to the spot, mesmerized by what he was witnessing.
Sheppard twisted, and could see that Andrews was being fed on by a wraith. Deepening lines around his face and mouth signified that already, he was past saving. Collins was repeatedly shooting the wraith, but the wraith's injuries were healing, fuelled by the years that he was stealing from Andrews.
Having been distracted himself, Sheppard felt something slam into his side.
He was sent sprawling to the floor, his head connecting hard on impact. He was abruptly pulled onto his back and a taloned hand scored across his face. He felt his blood dribbling down his face as the wraith went to plunge its hand down into his chest.
Sheppard's hand was pinned and although he could get a finger hold onto his 9mil, he couldn't get it out of the holster.
Arms tensing, fingers reaching, lungs burning, Sheppard tried to pluck the weapon out from his holster. Exhaustion and physical pain were colliding to make him feel weak and disoriented.
Just as the wraith's hand was over his chest it let out a wail and pitched forwards, pressing Sheppard onto the hard floor, crushing his abused ribs, its last breath hissing out past his ear.
Sheppard managed to roll it off and was surprised when Laraby's hand was thrust into his own and he was pulled back up to his feet.
"Thought you could use some help," Laraby said quickly as his eyes scanned the dark corridor.
"Thanks," Sheppard replied quickly moving around to where Collins was being pinned to the wall by a wraith.
"Shit!" Collins cried out as he fought to reload his P90, all the while taking small steps backwards. Wraith number three had joined 'two' to trap their food.
Sheppard went to fire his P90 and heard the audible click, which indicated that it was out of bullets.
Laraby passed him a cartridge and he loaded it quickly.
"I'll take the one on the right, you take the one on the left," Sheppard said as he moved forwards.
"Yes sir," Laraby replied as he withdrew his 9mil.
Laraby had never been so scared in all of his life. Of course, he wasn't going to admit that. A good soldier didn't. Colonel Sheppard wasn't. He was moving forward despite being injured.
Collins fired off a few rounds, but couldn't prevent being hit by a stun blast. His body juddered, his face contorted into an expression of pain and the weapon fell to the floor by his feet. A further small convulsion and he himself dropped down next to his gun.
It became a matter of instinct and self-preservation.
"You ready to do this?" Sheppard asked.
Laraby swallowed thickly and nodded.
Sheppard breathed in slow controlled pants in an attempt to stop the rush of blood roaring through his ears.
When he and the wraith met, they moved as if they were performing a choreographed dance.
Sheppard ducked, side-stepped the wraith's outstretched hand and then straightened up, gun poised to take fire.
He was too slow to miss the wraith's crushing blow to his chest that had him slamming backwards into Laraby. His gun was torn from his hands and went skittering across the floor and out of his reach.
Sheppard was sent to the ground as a wave of dizziness hit him. He tried to catch his breath, his vision swimming with white dots as he fought to pull in enough oxygen.
It was Laraby's own grunt of pain that had Sheppard looking back up, despite his injury. Laraby was being pinned to the wall by the wraith, his tactical vest had been torn open and it was only a matter of time before the wraith would feed.
Using all of his energy to drag himself back up to his feet, Sheppard moved forward and drove his body into the wraiths. As they toppled to the ground and Laraby sank to the floor, Sheppard pushed his 9mil into the wraith's side and fired again and again until he had emptied his clip.
"Sir!"
Sheppard looked down at the wraith, waiting for movement, assuming that Laraby was dealing with the other one.
"Sir?"
Sheppard shook his head and turned back to Laraby. He was kneeling on the ground, staring over to the corner of the room where the last wraith was feeding on Collins.
Sheppard scrambled over to Laraby on his knees, grabbed the mans P90 and shot the wraith in the back. Once the clip had been expended, his popped in another and fired again until the wraith sank to the floor lifelessly.
"Is he dead?" Laraby asked when Sheppard dropped his head.
Sheppard curled his arm around his chest protectively and took a moment to assess his injuries. He'd broken some of his ribs, he had a nasty gash on his head which meant he was probably concussed and his back ached and throbbed from continually being thrown to the ground.
Laraby had bruises on his cheekbone, a cut on his neck and he too was curled inwards as if he'd suffered an internal injury.
"Is he?" Laraby repeated.
Sheppard looked up, "Yes."
"What……..are these things?" Laraby asked from the floor. He was breathing hard and fast, his hand resting on his side.
Sheppard pushed himself up and moved over to the wall to steady himself. There was something metallic at the back of his throat, pooling every now and then, to make him feel sick and shaky.
"They're not……from around here, are they?" Laraby asked as he stood and paced nervously.
Sheppard having recovered some of his strength passed Laraby his weapon and went over to where Collins was lying and retrieved his P90, sparing a glance at Collins aged exterior.
"Sheppard?" Laraby asked.
Sheppard took in a deep experimental breath and let it go in one quick exhalation, "No."
The two men shared a long look.
Laraby finally broke the silence, his voice filled with exasperation, "Well what in the hell is going on here? You know something. I know you do."
Sheppard glanced over to where Martins and Cole were still lying motionless and then back to Laraby.
"We need to get these two into a safe position. We can come back for them after we've tried to help the men in the main chamber."
Laraby stood up slowly, "Sheppard."
"I wanted to tell you," Sheppard began, "But Stark-"
"Forget Stark."
Laraby gripped hold of Martins as Sheppard took hold of Cole. They dragged the two unconscious men through to an intersecting room that was small, circular, but safe.
Once the two men were propped up comfortably, Sheppard moved over to the entrance and checked that the coast was clear.
"Anything?" Laraby asked as he nervously shuffled from one foot to the other.
"Nothing," Sheppard answered as he fished into his pocket for some Tylenol and dry swallowed two tablets.
Sheppard shook his head. Pushing through the nausea and his throbbing headache, he knew he had to tell Laraby what was going on. This wasn't just speculation anymore. The wraith were here.
"For the past few years, I have been on an expedition in…" he paused and realised what he was about to say would sound ridiculous, "..another galaxy."
Laraby immediately laughed harshly, "You're kidding me right?"
Sheppard's demeanour remained stalwart and serious. He continued, "Look…..these wraith. These aliens. They have culled thousands of worlds and they're not going to be stopped easily."
"This sounds……." Laraby shook his head, "This sounds ridiculous."
"I know how it sounds but it's the truth. You are standing in one of their ships. A hive ship and our mission, the real mission was to come here and blow this thing up so the Afghans couldn't get hold of this technology. Although, I'm starting to doubt that reason. In fact, I think we were all lied to."
Sheppard checked his watch, "Now, in less than an hour an air strike Stark has ordered will be here."
"I still don't understand why Stark would have ordered that air strike."
"I'm still working on that one myself."
"So this is…" Laraby laughed again and walked over to one of the walls, "This is an alien ship?"
"Yes."
"And these Wraith, are…aliens?"
"Yeah."
Laraby pressed the pad of his thumb up to his finger and closed is eyes.
"I know how this all sounds, but you've seen with your own eyes what the wraith are capable of…..how strong they are……."
Laraby's head shot up, "These wraith…….they…..it looked like they sucked the life out Andrews and Collins."
"They did."
Laraby walked over to the far wall and slid down it, his hands going up to his head and massaging his temples, "This is a lot to take in right now."
"I know," Sheppard acknowledged.
"Aliens. Alien ships," Laraby laughed again.
"We need to set the self destruct and get out of here."
"We can't leave those men here," Laraby said.
"As I told you before, they're already dead."
"They were alive!"
"Okay," Sheppard said, "If…we have time and I mean if."
"Thank you," Laraby said.
"Look, we have two men here who are alive. We need to set the self destruct and get out of here before that air strike which is in…" Sheppard checked his watch. The watch face had been smashed in.
Laraby checked his own and said, "Forty five minutes. It's not enough time."
"It is if we leave now."
-----------------------------------------
When they entered the main chamber, it was quiet and there was no sign of the other wraith. Sheppard was dismayed to see that the special ops soldier, who had previously retained his years, had been fed on in the interim and now his hollow, aged eyes watched them.
Sheppard moved over to one of the consoles and ran his fingers along it, mentally trying to recall what he had seen Rodney do a million times over.
"You think you can set that self destruct?" Laraby asked in a whisper.
"I've spent enough time with Rodney over the past few years. I should be able to."
"Rodney?" Laraby asked as he walked around the chamber.
"Doctor Rodney McKay," Sheppard answered as he examined the console, "Our resident genius." He looked up and over to Laraby, "But, don't ever tell him I said that."
Laraby shrugged. As if he'd ever get to meet this Doctor McKay.
When Sheppard found what he was looking for he used his knife to prise open the console and expose the mass of organic wires that lay beneath.
"Thank you Rodney," Sheppard muttered as worked.
Laraby was scouting the area, methodically checking the ceiling while Sheppard had his back to him. He looked down at the men tied up in the centre of the room and felt guilt wash over him. Two of the men were unresponsive but the man between them was alive, just, his eyes following Laraby around the room.
Laraby shot a look at Sheppard and then back to the special Ops soldier.
"Well, I've found the data storage device, "Sheppard mumbled.
Laraby looked up from the special ops soldier and nodded.
"Keep your eyes open," Sheppard said as he extracted the data storage device and held it up with a grin.
Laraby couldn't keep his eyes off the soldier staring up at him.
"Now," Sheppard said as he walked over to another console.
It was much larger, more central and Sheppard went about the same routine. Prising open the compartment and exposing the consoles internal guts.
"You okay?" Sheppard asked as he flicked his attention between Laraby and the LSD.
"Yeah," Laraby answered.
"I've got nothing on the LSD so far-"
"LSD?" Laraby asked.
Sheppard smiled apologetically, "Sorry, Life Signs Detector."
"Oh, right," Laraby nodded. He had no idea what one of those was but it sounded like something he saw in a Star Trek episode he watched one time.
Sheppard continued, "- but keep watch anyway, these things are fast," he disappeared under the console.
The special ops soldier was still watching him.
Laraby couldn't do it. He had to help the soldier. Kneeling down and clipping his P90 back onto his vest, he tried to untie the bindings.
"I really have no idea what I'm-" Sheppard started, "Hang on."
Laraby looked up, going deathly still when he expected Sheppard to look over and see that he was defying his orders. Ironic. He had berated Sheppard about defying Starks orders and now he was doing the same. Maybe they weren't so different.
"I think I've found the main couplings for the self destruct…I vaguely remember Rodney…" he tailed off as he worked.
"I'm going to get you out of here," Laraby whispered.
The special ops soldier nodded.
Laraby reached forward to tug at the soldiers bindings.
"Okay, looks like I've found something," Sheppard said loudly.
Laraby felt sweat roll down his forehead and he wiped it away with the back of his hand.
"Shouldn't be too much longer-"
Sheppard's voice faded into the background as Laraby continued to free the Soldier. He had just located the main knot when a shadow descended over him.
He gulped.
Wraith, he thought dryly.
Definitely fast.
The next thing he knew, he was being lifted off the floor and being tossed across the room as if he weighed nothing. He struck the wall, his head connecting hard and he sank to the ground, unable to move as he breathed through the pain.
Sheppard had heard the noise, looked up and had unexpectedly been grabbed by the back of his tactical vest and yanked down to his knees.
He dropped the data storage device in the process and stared up and into the eyes of a wraith.
Wraith number four.
He could feel his control waning even as the wraith held him in his gaze. He couldn't move, couldn't reach his P90 which was at arms length, couldn't remove himself from the wraiths probing hold. It was trying to get inside his mind and extract the secrets that lay there.
"They said you would come," the wraith informed Sheppard with a flick of his head.
Sheppard slid his eyes over to where the soldiers were watching him.
The wraith was in his mind, its voice echoing around his brain, giving him a headache, his thoughts were no longer his own.
"Are there more of you here?" Sheppard managed to force out through his teeth.
The wraith nodded.
"You have come here to destroy this ship," the wraith stated.
Sheppard clamped his mouth shut but found himself nodding anyway.
"I can't let you do that," the wraith informed him, "We have waited to long."
"There……are……more…..coming?" Sheppard grit out.
"Yes."
"You haven't left……"
"We do not have the numbers. But soon….."
Homing beacon. He had to be referring to a homing beacon. Was that why Stark had ordered an air strike Had he known that they were broadcasting? No. It made no sense and it still didn't explain the immediacy of this mission. Stark had called the air strike for a different reason.
What did make sense was that these wraith hadn't ventured out yet. They obviously saw the merits of having billions of humans versus a handful of wraith.
They had no chance.
They were waiting until they had the right numbers.
"I……….can't…..let….that happen," Sheppard said.
Sheppard slid his eyes over to where Laraby was lying on the floor. He thought he saw Laraby's foot twitch, the first indication that he was tentatively making his way back to consciousness.
The wraith gripped Sheppard firmly, yanked him upwards and stared him straight in the eyes, probing, trying to coax forth-new information that he could use to his advantage.
There was a beat before the wraith's eyes narrowed and his mouth formed into a twisted sneer, "Atlantis," it rasped.
Sheppard swallowed the hard constricting lump that was forming in his throat and tried to keep his face as neutral as possible.
"The Lanteans were on the verge of defeat" the wraith said.
Sheppard licked his lips, felt the beads of perspiration dribbling down the side of his face as he tried to keep information locked away from the wraith.
"The wraith were defeated," Sheppard ground out, "You're the last of your kind. No ones coming to rescue you."
He knew his words were echoing the last time he met a wraith that had survived for thousands of years. He was telling this one the same story.
"I do not believe you."
He was trying to breathe in slow increments; every breath pulled on his muscles and brought new pain to his broken ribs. They were burning, aching, the throb unrelenting, an unwelcome distraction.
"You came here from Atlantis."
"You're not going to win this war," Sheppard said quickly, "the wraith are long gone. You're the last of your-"
"You will be the first to be fed on," the wraith said looking over to where Laraby was moving his arm up to his head.
"I've killed many of your kind," Sheppard grit out.
The wraith let go of Sheppard and he visibly deflated. His shoulders sagged and his face paled. The wraith circled him, craning his head to the side.
"You…are….different," it rasped.
Sheppard swallowed and tasted that blood again.
Laraby was awake. Sheppard could see him lying there, eyes wide open, obviously waiting for the right moment.
"You…are Lantean?" the wraith asked.
Sheppard licked his lips.
The wraith nodded, "Perhaps, I should keep you alive."
Laraby lolled his head towards him and met his eyes, eyebrows drawn down in confusion.
Sheppard found the young special ops soldier, his own eyes moving down to the device in his hand.
Sheppard, by some miracle, understood what the soldier was trying to say with his eyes.
Sheppard nodded.
It seemed that a silent plan was beginning to get set in motion.
"Are there more of you here?" Sheppard asked as he moved towards Laraby.
The wraith mirrored him, "They sleep."
Sheppard locked onto Laraby.
The wraith followed him.
Sheppard nodded.
Laraby did the same.
The soldier's closed his eyes..
Sheppard moved his mouth silently, "Now!"
The silver bomb was released by the soldier. It rolled along the uneven floor, all three men holding their breath in complete synchronicity.
The bomb reached the wraith and he looked down at it with a mixture of fear and amusement.
Sheppard inched towards Laraby.
Any second.
Laraby was creeping up to his knees.
Sheppard licked his lips.
Time slowed as the bomb exploded in a shower of fire and debris. The impact sent Sheppard hurtling backwards. Black edged into his vision as he slipped to the floor. He quickly probed his mouth for damage and was disheartened when he tasted blood.
He scanned the clearing smoke and could see that the wraith was lying on the floor.
Sheppard looked down at his tactical vest and saw blood.
He checked himself for injuries and aside from his earlier cuts and bruises, he hadn't acquired any new ones.
He felt sick.
Bile was rushing up his throat, mingling with the blood as he forced it back down.
The blood.
He spied fragments of flesh.
He coughed again, choked as he tried not to retch.
The bomb had detonated near the special ops men and they hadn't stood a chance.
Sheppard and Laraby were covered in their torn flesh.
"Sir?" The weak voice made him turn.
"Laraby," Sheppard said yanking the man up to his feet, "It'll take a lot more than that to keep that wraith down."
Laraby glanced over at the wraith and then back to Sheppard.
"They're-"
"-Dead," Sheppard finished for him.
"I feel like I'm going to puke," Laraby said as he saw the blood on him.
The blood on the wall behind them.
"Not now," Sheppard said passing him his canteen.
Laraby pushed it away and stood shakily.
Sheppard joined him, hunching over when the his ribs protested the movement.
Laraby was staring at the centre of the room.
"Stop it," Sheppard ordered him.
"But-"
Sheppard clapped him on the shoulder to ground him, "I'm going to work on getting the self destruct online; you need to get out of here. Get Cole and Martins out and as far away from the ship as possible. They should be waking by now."
"What about you?" Laraby said.
"There's a chance I won't be able to set a timer."
"You're going to get yourself killed."
"Hey, if I can set a timer, I'll be right behind you."
"And if you can't?"
Sheppard retrieved the fallen data storage device and handed it to Laraby, "Take this. Guard it with your life."
"What?"
"Just do it."
"Sir...are you-"
"I'll be right behind you." Sheppard repeated in an attempt to convince Laraby, " I'm just giving you a head start."
-------------
Sheppard looked up at the sky and watched the angry grey clouds rolling towards him and then back to his men. He sighed tiredly.
He trudged forward through the thick underbrush, his team ahead of him as they tried to find their enemies.
He tapped his earpiece lightly, "Major Lorne, how's it going on your end?"
There was a beat before Lorne's voice came through, "I got hit by one of my own men," he stated, "Green paint all over me."
"Well, we're paintballing," Sheppard replied.
"Nice one Sir," Lorne added.
"I thought so."
"Hey, just think. A few more hours of this and then back to Atlantis."
"I hear its pot roast night," Lorne said.
Sheppard licked his lips and rubbed his grumbling stomach, "And I think someone mentioned chocolate cake this week."
"Chocolate cake?" Lorne said with surprise.
"Yeah, and after we've kicked you're ass I'm going to get the first slice."
"Hey loser has to give up their share."
"You're on," Sheppard said chuckling.
The sky rumbled above him.
"Can I just say sir; we're going to take your team down."
"I don't think so," Sheppard replied.
"You just wait."
"Okay, Sheppard out."
-------------------------
Sheppard let out a heavy sigh and sat back on his heels.
It was no good.
He rubbed at his face wearily.
His aches and pains were becoming more pronounced, the wearier he became.
The air strike was imminent.
He just hoped Laraby had managed to get his two team mates out.
"Crap," he muttered in a low voice.
He was no Rodney Mckay and there was no way that he was competent enough in wraith technology to do this.
"I could really use you right now Rodney," he said out loud.
On second thoughts, he'd never expose Rodney to this kind of carnage.
Sheppard turned to scan the room.
It was dark, eerily quiet and a crackling fire burnt in the corner of the room where the detonation had taken place. The wraith had yet to move but Sheppard was still expecting it to resurrect itself.
He turned back to the console and shook his head.
He could short the wires and set off the self-destruct.
Only, he would have to be inside when he did it.
TBC
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That was a long chapter…..okay, so explanations are coming, and lots more whump!
Again…hope it's making sense……..
That'll teach me to write such a complicated story :D