A/N: Okay, I'll admit it. The old chapter 15 officially sucked. Here's the new-and-improved version, rewritten for your enjoyment. There's an additional chapter after this one for which you can let me know how you like the changes I've made, if you wish.
Darkness closed in on him, but strangely, Carson was relatively calm. He still felt the weakening tugging of Rodney's hands on his shoulders, which still burned with both infection and the sting of sea water. The only thing that disturbed the bubble of calm around him was the fact that he knew that Rodney would die with him. He knew his friend would not let go of his arm to save himself.
But Carson did not give up. He was determined, even after the last of the bubbles leaked from his lungs into the water and flittered up to the dimming surface above him, that he would pull and twist his wrists out of their chain bindings until he no longer had the life and will within him to continue. He only wished that Rodney wouldn't have been stubborn enough to die with him. If he was lucky, he could be rescued and pulled back aboard the ship. If he was lucky, the primitive and unsterilized environment wouldn't cause sepsis in his blood, assuming the pirates who'd killed him were even smart enough to try to bandage him.
No, Rodney wouldn't do that. He was far too lonely and selfish to want to continue living a lonely life as a prisoner of those pirates without his company. Cold tendrils of iciness traveled up Carson's feet and legs, and he knew that the darkness would soon claim him. These thoughts would be his last, and who better to dedicate them to than to Rodney? Even if it was all he had left, his best friend, Rodney, was deserving of such a tribute.
His feet suddenly touched something rock-like and smooth, and Carson could only assume that he had finally reached the bottom. With the last remnants of his consciousness, he looked up at the faint glimmer of the surface many meters above… and saw shimmering ghosts coming for his mortal soul.
Could these have been the spirits that Te'Lan had said spoken of, the ones that he'd claimed guided him? Somehow, it registered in the back of his mind that he could be hallucinating, that the pressure of the water could be about to burst his ear drums. But the ghosts still came for him. One of them reached out for him, whispering familiar musical tones. It was Laura's voice, somehow. She'd come to take him home to Scotland.
An arm thrust down and wrapped itself around his neck, dragging him upward toward what he could only assume was heaven.
"Get them aboard, quickly!" Major Lorne shouted above the din of yelling of pirates, who'd been spurred into action by the rescue in progress. "Come on, hurry it up! They're changing course and bringing their cannons to bear at us!"
He was precariously balancing Jumper 1 over the swells and chop of the shallow sea water centimeters below them. Ronon had volunteered without question to jump into the shark-infested waters to save his friends, and while he dove into the shimmering depths, Lt. Cadman had lowered a rope while Teyla helped pull the injured men to the relative safety of the interior of the jumper. Both Rodney and Carson were unconscious, but as Ronon pulled himself inside, she had felt a weak pulse from them both.
Once Ronon was inside, he dashed to the front. "They're firing at us!"
They had not heard the explosion of cannon-fire through the closing hatch, but the jumper suddenly rocked violently, nearly throwing Lorne from his seat. "We're hit! The Inertial Dampeners are failing, but hull integrity is still pretty much intact and the water isn't too deep. I have to take her down!"
Jumper 1 began to sink rapidly, and as Laura finished checking over Rodney and applying a bandage to his wound, Teyla's breath caught in her throat. "Dr. Beckett… he has stopped breathing."
Laura spun around, her demeanor of military training almost breaking from the force of her panic. Teyla moved to aside, the woman nearly bowling her over as the lack of inertial dampeners tossed them about like marbles in a fishbowl. Laura was dripping sweat, and her hands shook as she felt for a pulse. It was fading fast.
"No, Carson! You're not leaving me now, not after how far we've come!" she screamed, wracked with fear. Cupping her hands together, she pressed on his abdomen and rolled him onto his side to let the water drain from his lungs, then set him back and began artificial respiration. His lips felt waxy and cold against hers, and it drove another spike of panic into her already fragile mask of training.
When he failed to respond, she beat a fist on his chest in frustration and began to shed tears, but did not stop. Several terse minutes passed, and she could almost feel him slipping away. The color had long since leaked from his gentle features. But then he shuddered beneath her, and she saw his jaw and neck clench. His head turned to the side and he let loose what looked like a gallon of sea water onto the floor of the Jumper from his lungs and stomach, then began coughing, sputtering and gasping for air. The blue tinge that had been spreading across his lips slowly began to fade.
Her trembling fingers gently touched his cold and clammy shoulder, mindful of the painfully infected scratches, and his eyes fluttered open. A pale, weak grin crossed his kind features. "Laura, my sweet lassie… ye saved my life."
Laura grinned at him happily, tears of joy rolling freely. She pulled him into a hug, and he happily returned it.
"I hate to spoil the moment, but we've got a serious problem," Lorne said finally, swiveling in the pilot's seat.
"Was there more damage than just the Jumper's inertial dampeners?" Telya asked furtively, rising to take a seat in the co-pilot's seat.
"Yeah," he replied nervously. "It looks like the life-support systems and the engines both have some damage, too. It took nearly all the auxiliary power we had left just to land the Jumper on the bottom safely. We're not going anywhere, and we only have a little over half an hour's worth of air."
Carson sighed, which caused another fit of coughing. "Great, so we're not goin' ta drown, at least. But what the bloody hell are we goin' ta do now? Rodney's a'ready unconscious an' will bleed ta death internally if we don't get him treatment soon, too."
The smooth floor beneath Henry's feet began to tremble and shake. "Wha-what's going on?"
John had fired before the old man had touched the panel, but was not fast enough to stop his hand from touching a button. It had begun to blink rapidly, and the entire outpost was lighting up, as it came alive.
"I don't know," he said, then bent down over the prone form of the old man, who was still conscious somehow. "What have you done?"
The old man smiled, took a last breath, and spoke once more before his body stilled in his death. "The Wraith will not… take this prize from me. I suggest you run, now… before it is too late."
Taking the life-signs detector from the old man's lifeless hands and placing it in his pocket, John rose and furiously examined the panels around him. "The weapons systems… he set them to overload and the drones in it will explode, destroying the outpost. We've got to find a way out of here, right now!"
Pulling Henry along with him by the arm, John managed to find the outpost's Jumper bay, but the only one left had been disassembled for spare parts. From the looks of it, it had been a long time ago, too. A fine coating of dust had settled over everything. Cursing to himself, John ran a hand through his hair in an effort to concentrate. They were probably too deep under water to swim from an airlock without getting the Bends, nitrogen bubbles in their blood. Was it their only choice?
Suffer a horrible death by nitrogen-bubble-induced brain or lung embolism, or a quick death by a drone explosion; some choice. The floor rocked violently under them, throwing them off their feet. But somehow, John also felt movement. He desperately felt for his radio and, surprisingly, found that it was still there. He had to try.
The shaking continued to get worse until Lorne had pulled off a panel near the rear hatch looking for another problem with the inertial dampeners. With the power offline, they shouldn't have felt anything… unless they weren't really on the bottom of the ocean after all.
As he experienced the sensation of slow and steady movement, Lorne returned to the pilot's seat and called up what power was left to take some sensor readings. "The sea floor beneath us is unstable. There's some kind of air chamber inside… and it's rising!"
Displaying the sensor readings on the main screen, the five occupants of the Jumper watched in dismay as the depth reading slowly began to shrink.
"How is this possible?" Teyla asked, astonished.
"I don't know," Lorne replied, just as astonished, and then set the sensors to widen the scanning field. "Hold on, let me see if I can scan the interior of the chamber."
"Good Lord!" Beckett cried out as he stared at the scan. "It's an Ancient outpost!"
"There's a buildup of superheated steam on the underside of it that's giving the outpost buoyancy," the Major reported worriedly. "I think it's going to explode, but depending on the structural integrity of the outpost, which seems to be pretty much intact, we may very well reach the surface first. We're gonna need to get out of here, fast."
Carson nodded. "Aye, but why right now? In a few minutes, we'll be close enough ta the surface ta be able ta swim for it."
The radio suddenly crackled to life with what little bit of power was left. "Sheppard to Jumper 1, come in."
Teyla thumbed the communication switch. "Colonel! We are glad to hear from you. We feared you were dead! Where are you?"
"I don't know how you can hear me through all this water, but I'm inside an Ancient outpost at the bottom of the ocean."
"You're a lucky duck, Colonel," Beckett said loud enough to be transmitted. "I dunno how ye made it through the sinkin' o' that Gulran ship, but we're safe for now in the Jumper an' currently sittin' on the top o' the outpost's dome."
"Glad you guys were rescued, and just in the nick of time, too. But we're in trouble down here. There was an Ancient left here in stasis, and he's decided to destroy the outpost rather than let it potentially fall into the hands of the Wraith. He set the weapons systems to overload, and I can't stop it. You've got to get to an airlock and get me and Henry out of here!"
"Sorry, sir," Lorne answered reluctantly, "but the engines are damaged. At the moment, we can't even get out of the water."
"Damn!"
"You'll have ta swim for it, Colonel!" Carson pointed out, frowning.
"Swim?! Are you crazy? The pressure at this depth—"
"—will make yer eardrums hurt, aye, but not much more," he finished for him. "The outpost is startin' ta rise from the ocean floor, an' it's a'ready close ta the surface. Don't worry, we'll be joinin' ya soon enough. The Jumper's had it."
"Alright, we'll do it."
As the radio clicked off, Lorne looked around at the bedraggled and immobile passengers and motioned toward the hatch. "Well, what're you waiting for? Let's get out of here before that thing explodes! Stuff whatever rations and tools you can into your pockets and let's go!"
A moment later, they were ready and waiting by the rear hatch, Ronon with McKay in his arms, and with one deft motion from Lorne, sea water spewed forth and filled the small, cramped space in less than half a minute. The water was murky and dark, but Carson could just make out the silhouettes of the others as they kicked and paddled their way to the shimmering surface. But something was wrong… there was a huge shadow on the water to their right, as if something was blotting out the sunlight at the surface.
When he finally broke the surface, he was so shocked that he nearly forgot to tread water. There in the water next to them was the pirate ship that had dumped him and Rodney into the water, nearly drowning them both. Te'Lan stood over the ledge looking down at them as they surfaced, laughing with unbridled delight, and not looking at all surprised to see them. A few seconds later, Colonel Sheppard and Henry broke the surface as well, panting with exertion.
Carson would've kicked himself had he been able. "Och, crap!"