CHAPTER 4: Belligerence
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His father was standing there staring at him. Curse the man, would he ever leave? A feathery bristle of green swept across his visage, obstructing his view of the man before him. Standing there, not five feet before him was his father, in full military dress. Medals glinted in the dull sunlight cascading through the canopy from above. A scruff of white hair bristled in the slight breeze weaving through the trees. A stubborn snarl stationed upon a weathered face. Just like he had always remembered the bastard.
His heart was beating wildly in his chest but he couldn't do a thing about it. His body was pulsing with energy and to prove it, an energizing tingling sensation was buzzing through his torso and radiating out to the very tips of his fingers and toes. He should be moving toward the battle cries of earlier. But this…whatever it was…kept him momentarily stationary.
"Go away. Better yet, go to hell." John's voice was sharp, to the point. His glare fixated upon the man before him. "You're dead."
"Stubborn old man like me? Nah." The general waved a hand with a snort. "I know how to get to a man, John. Dig in deep and start tearing until it bleeds. Don't stop until the screams do. It's what I do, John. And damn proud of it."
"Did. It's what you did. You're dead now. You shouldn't be here." Sheppard shook his head, taking a step forward before he realized that in his mind, he would have much more preferred to take a step backward.
"Ah, and neither should you." The grin on that red-tinged face was enough to make Sheppard's skin crawl except he couldn't stir up enough fear at the moment to feel such a sensation. He was rather feeling very alive, ready to take action.
"You shouldn't be here." Sheppard was beginning to sound like a broken record. The general stepped forward until he was face to face with his son. Their noses were inches apart. Sheppard swore he could feel the heat radiating off the other man's skin. That alone was disturbing. His father had died years ago. This shouldn't be happening.
He realized his sweaty hands had curled into tight fists on instinct at the sudden approach. He stared deep into the hazel eyes staring back at him…so real…so mesmerizing. He found he couldn't look away.
"Don't drink the water."
The statement nearly had Sheppard stumbling backward in shock. What the hell?
"'S a little late for that…but thanks for the little father son chat. It was…nice."
Sheppard made to turn away, but a disturbingly solid hand planted upon his left shoulder turned him around to face the apparition that was his deceased father once again. The adrenaline coursing throughout his body fueled him and suppressed the fear that begged to emerge. H shrugged free from his father's grasp and stalked off into the underbrush, not once looking back.
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"You know, it'd be nice if just once, just once, we'd get some straight answers in the introductions and greetings back at the beginning instead of waiting until the point where all hell breaks loose and we have to find things out the hard way!"
Rodney paced back and forth, wringing his hands. His eyes darted from an unconscious Ronon resting in Teyla's nap to the huddle of crazed natives whispering to one another and shifting in jerky movements from one second to the next. Their constant shifting was enough to drive Rodney insane.
"Rodney! Please!" Came the exasperated cry from Teyla. She had given up on trying to raise Ronon and instead was gently cleaning his wounds with the first aid kit from her tack vest. It wasn't much, but it was the best she could do in their current situation.
Rodney paused in his pacing and looked to the man whom had warned them earlier about the water.
"What's wrong with the water?" He demanded an answer.
The man jumped, startled at the sudden directness of Rodney's rash behavior. He seemed to curl into himself momentarily. The hand of one of the woman rested upon his shoulder in a comforting gesture. They exchanged weary glances that spoke volumes…only in their language. With that, the man rose and came to stand before McKay and Teyla, studying the unconscious Satedan wearily.
"Friend or foe?"
Rodney scrunched his brow in question, glancing at Teyla whom seemed to comprehend the question immediately.
"Friend." She stated softly with a gentle nod. The man nodded in return, a slight smile twitching upon his frail lips.
"I am Roshan."
"Teyla Emmagan. This is Ronon Dex and that is Dr. Rodney McKay. We are travelers from another world. Please, if you could help us, we would be greatly…"
"No." The man stated resolutely, shaking his head and taking a step backwards.
"No? What do you mean, no? We're in a pretty shitty situation here, Roshan. Our bodies can't tolerate the heat of your planet, ergo we're sweating out most of the precious fluids our bodies require, and we're utterly lost. We can't drink the water because…well we don't know why yet, but I'm not about to find out. We can't get back to our only ticket out of here and our team leader is currently lost…though most likely on his own accord. His left foot's a little shorter than the right, so I'm sure he's just walking around in cir…."
"Dr. McKay!" Teyla's abrupt reply stopped the rant before it gained momentum. Rodney appeared to gather himself and straightened, his chin jutting out.
"Sorry." He muttered.
"Please. Follow and we will show you." Roshan beckoned, beginning to lead the way as the rest of his kind rose from their feet. They were heading back in to the depths of the jungle, away from their only source of replenishment.
"Show us what?" McKay couldn't stop himself. Roshan only continued onward, fully expecting the two to haul an unconscious giant along the way.
"The suffering of our people." Roshan replied and with that, fell silent, following as the rest of the natives led the way into the trees.
Rodney looked to Teyla, who looked no less perplexed than he. Together, they gathered Ronon between them, the man never emitting a sound as they lifted his arms around their shoulders and trudged forward to slowly follow the crazies, as Rodney so dubbed them.
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Embedded in the mud ahead of him was a rash of hurried footsteps. Five toes, heel and arch. Human. Strides measured at least a meter apart. The deepest portion of the impression, the weight, was settled on the front pad of the footprints. Running.
Sheppard sniffed at the air. He was close. He listened intently against the soft bristling of leaves, the twittering of foreign creatures…he could hear their heavy panting. They were on the move. They weren't heading towards him, but away. Towards what, he didn't care. He just wanted to join them. His brethren. They needed him.
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"We missed our first check-in." Rodney grunted. Ronon's weight was unbearable. He shifted the limp man's weight so that he could carry him more efficiently and turned his head toward a similarly struggling Teyla.
"Dr. Weir will presume the worst and send a rescue team, Rodney. Do not worry."
Rodney would have stopped in his tracks, but that would have caused all three of them to come tumbling to the ground. He kept his voice lowered, eyeing the natives carefully navigating their way through the underbrush ahead of them.
"Oh, don't worry, you say? Excuse me for being a hypochondriac, but had the thought occurred to you that if we ran into this much trouble that surely our rescue team may be shortly in need of saving themselves? This planet has thus far produced anything worthy of the label "advanced" and we have thus far failed to meet any intelligent life forms. I don't care what anyone else says. We dialed the wrong planet."
Teyla kept her mouth shut but silently chortled to herself. Hadn't Ronon been the one to accuse Rodney of dialing the wrong planet not just this morning?
"Dr. McKay, you do realize the information you recovered from the Ancient database is at least ten thousand years old? Any number of things can happen to a planet in that length of time. My people alone experienced a fluctuation of discoveries and losses that both advanced and set us back. And that is not including the devastation incurred by the Wraith."
"The Wraith!" Rodney's eyes widened at the mention. "You don't think…'
"I do not think so. I do not sense a fear of Wraith from these people. They fear the natural elements more so, which I find rather disturbing in itself. They are an unsettled people, Rodney. It would not do to dwell on what could be but rather to ponder what is."
His head would have been spinning at that insight if it weren't for the fact that he was a genius. Rodney remained uncharacteristically quiet for the remainder of their trek through the muggy, bug-infested jungle.
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