A word of warning about this chapter – there is some elements of torture in it. It's not too graphic, but I thought I should warn you.
oOoOoOo
Rodney worked frantically, without rest, without pausing even to eat. Radek was at his side, silently handing him the tools he needed. It helped Rodney to be able to work. It helped clear his mind of the horror of what Carson must be going through. He'd seen how his friend had suffered at the hands of Michael, and he had a fairly good idea that the other Wraith would be even less restrained in their coercion of the good doctor.
As he worked, the Canadian was vaguely aware of his other friends on Atlantis subtly looking after him. Firstly, it was Elizabeth, who arrived with a cup of coffee in her hand. She didn't say a word. Simply, putting down the coffee on the table beside him, and laying a comforting hand on his shoulder. She then left as silently as she had arrived.
John was next. He also provided a cup of coffee and a couple of power bars. He stayed for a while, leaning against the nearest counter.
"How much longer before this is ready?" he asked. Rodney muttered in response to the question, but it was up to Radek translate for John.
"It should be ready in a couple more hours," Radek said, smiling in response to John's sigh of relief. "Provided, of course, we do not run into any more problems," he added cautiously.
"That's good to hear," John responded, slapping both men on the shoulder.
Teyla arrived next, with her offering of coffee and an Athosian delicacy that both men were known to enjoy.
"Colonel Sheppard is preparing the team," she said to Rodney. "So whenever you are finished, they will be ready to go."
Their last visitor was more surprising. It was the large, and silent figure of Ronon. He brought his offering – a cold refreshing drink, and then left without a word.
Eventually, Rodney looked up, and exchanged a glance with Radek.
"Are we ready to test it?" the Czech asked.
"As ready as we'll ever be," Rodney confirmed. He raised his hand to his comm-link. "Elizabeth," he said. "We're ready for the test."
"Everything is in place, here," she responded immediately, as if she'd been anxiously waiting for Rodney's call.
By the time Rodney and Radek reached the 'Gate, it was obvious that Elizabeth was not the only one awaiting their call. John, Teyla and Ronon were standing talking quietly in one corner. Lorne, and his team, stood just beside them, checking their guns. Elizabeth hovered at the top of the steps, pacing slightly in her anxiety.
As soon as the two men appeared, they gathered together, round them, and the adapted MALP. Elizabeth looked at them, hope shining from her face. She couldn't face the thought of Carson trapped in the clutches of their enemies, alone and helpless. He was one of her closest friends, and her greatest confidante. She needed him back, and soon. Not just for his sake, but for her own.
"Okay," Rodney said. "Room needed here. The MALP has to be able to get to the 'Gate to be able to go through it."
Slightly embarrassed soldiers stepped back, giving the MALP a route to the 'Gate.
As Rodney sat down at the computer, he was surrounded by an anxious audience. Elizabeth stood at one side and Radek at his other shoulder. John, Teyla and Ronon ranged behind them, with Lorne and his team, in the background.
All eyes were on the computer screen as the MALP made its way through the wormhole. As it reached the other side, Rodney keyed in the sequence required, and the image on the screen changed to a sensor reading.
For a moment, no-one seemed to dare to breath. All that could be heard was the noise of the keys clicking as Rodney's fingers flew over them.
"Is it working?" John asked, impatience getting the better of him.
"It will take a few moments to get the telemetry correct," Radek said, as Rodney remained silent.
"There it is!" Rodney said with a note of triumph and relief in his voice.
"Is it definitely the Wraith ship?" John asked. "It could be Michael's."
"There are two dots," Ronon pointed out.
"So one is Michael's ship and the other the Wraith," Teyla said, almost making her statement a question.
"Well, thank you Einstein," Rodney said sarcastically, and earned himself confused looks from both Ronon and Teyla.
Teyla turned to John, ready to ask him to explain Rodney's latest remark. He just shook his head gently, and mouthed "Later." She nodded in return.
"So how do we work out which ship Beckett's on?" Ronon asked.
"Can the sensors detect how many people are on each ship?" Elizabeth asked.
"Working on it," Rodney said, his fingers moving rapidly again. "Okay, this is not good," the scientist added.
"What's wrong?" John asked, at the same moment the image on the screen vanished.
"What's happened to the sensors?" Elizabeth asked.
"We've lost the connection," Rodney said, still frantically typing. "Something seems to be interfering with it at the other end." He turned to look at the others, a look of dejection on his face.
oOoOoOo
Carson braced himself for another visit from Sandron. The Wraith had a different approach from Michael. Where Michael had used mental brute force, Sandron seemed to favour the "War of Attrition" method.
Each day, the leader would appear at some point in time, and niggle away at Carson, both mentally and physically. The torture was very sophisticated, if torture can ever be sophisticated. And it was wearing Carson down. His physical and mental defenses were weakening, and his body was betraying him further each day.
Deprived of food, and with only limited water, he knew he was getting near the end of his endurance. He had lost a lot of blood from the injuries Sandron had inflicted on him, none serious in themselves, but when all added together, they severely weakened him.
Mentally, his strength was fading too, as the little hope he had of rescue disappeared with each passing day. He found himself hallucinating, thinking of Atlantis, of Scotland, of all the places he had thought of as home over the years. He could hear the voices of his friends echoing through his mind, almost as if they were encouraging him. But he wasn't sure what they were encouraging him to do. Were they encouraging him to carry on? To keep fighting? Or to give in? To help the Wraith?
Suddenly, the door to his prison flew open. Carson jumped. He tried to stop himself, to relax, but that always proved impossible. His nerves were so tightly strung that even the slightest noise made him tense up.
"Ah, Dr Beckett," Sandron's hated voice echoed through the empty room. "Ready for another little discussion?"
Carson tried not to cringe at the voice. In a detached part of his mind, he realized that Sandron's voice had become intrinsically linked with pain. And that even hearing the voice produced a reaction in his body, making it tense in anticipation of the pain. But although his mind understood the logic of his body's reaction, he still couldn't stop the instinctive response.
"Still not talking to me, Dr Beckett," Sandron continued. "It must be lonely for you, with no-one to talk to."
Carson turned his face away from the voice, closing his eyes. But Sandron just laughed. He took Carson's face between his hands and forced the doctor to face him. Carson opened his eyes, and looked defiantly up into the Wraith's eyes. For a moment, Sandron's eyes reminded Carson of John's – as they had been when he'd been attacked by Ellia. A wave of homesickness hit the doctor, causing him to sigh.
Sandron looked at him quizzically, and then the look turned into an evil smile.
"So, now I've got your attention, Doctor," he said. "Perhaps we can continuing our discussions – with a little help from this." Sandron held up an instrument, it was one Carson had become very accustomed to over the last few days. It was the Wraith's version of a scalpel, and Sandron had been using it to painful effect.
The Wraith forcibly took hold of Carson's right arm, and undid the bindings on it. He then held the arm up, so that Carson could see it. It was already criss-crossed with thin lines of red, some of it still seeping blood.
The look on Sandron's face told Carson he was in for more pain. The Wraith seemed to enjoy torture more than any other creature Carson had encountered. He seemed to get pleasure from making others suffer.
"So we begin today's little session of discussion," Sandron said, laying the scalpel against Carson's inner arm, very gently, and then applying pressure until the blood started to seep out.
Carson closed his eyes, bracing himself for more pain. Even with his eyes shut he could sense the evil smile on the Wraith's face as he anticipated causing his victim yet more pain. Just as Sandron cut into Carson's arm again, the ship was rocked by an explosion.
"What the . . . ?" the Wraith said, looking down at Carson. Before either man could react, another explosion hit and Sandron stumbled slightly. As he stumbled, the scalpel he was hold slipped within his grasp, slicing into Carson's arm, causing the doctor to cry out in agony, as a red fountain of blood spilled from his arm.