Canto III: The Redshirt

"Sacrificing minions- is there any problem it can't solve?"

-The Order of the Stick

"Your choice is odd (the fan-girls say)"

"Of characters- I'm stumped!"

"For what's a story of this kind"

"If Sheppard can't be whumped?"

Fear not! Although that handsome gent

Is not yet featured there,

I promise angst and comfort/hurt,

And plenty "whump" to spare.

Within a dungeon dank and small

The pris'ners' sentence passed,

Expecting ev'ry waking hour

Perhaps to be their last.

Like injured gothic heroines (1)

They mused on peace sublime,

Except without the fainting spells

Or crying all the time.

At last they heard from down the way

Soft, wicked voices swell

And shuddered- thinking it to be

Their final, parting knell.

Two Wraith appeared in livery (2)-

Now this was strange indeed,

Besides the fact they motioned them

And weren't inclined to feed.

They showed them to a drawing room

Most elegant and small-

So much that all the Hive's décor

It did not match at all.

"Come in." proclaimed a gentle voice,

Although it was not sweet-

And to our heroes' great surprise

A lady did them greet.

She wore a crimson gown of silk,

Her hair with ribbons set,

And though in face she was a wraith,

The rest was Antoinette. (3)

Lord Beckett had to compromise-

Though masculine, he'd feel

"If I must be a woman then

At least I'll be genteel!"

"Ah, Ronon- I am charmed." quoth he,

And you, my friend McKay,

But you I do not recognize-

'Tis not your lucky day."

"My name is Chuck!" The Redshirt yelled

Though pale and ill with fear,

Because he saw the outstretched hand

And knew that death was near.

"I know the old conventions well-"

(Said Beckett with a sigh)

"Unless you have a surname too

You must be first to die!"

"That's silly!" said the Redshirt lad

Why be a slave to rule?

For I've a right to live as well,

Despite the Sci-fi's school."

"Perhaps I have a family too-

For them I earn my bread,

So why not break the common plot

And set us free instead!"

"How stupid do you think I am?"

The noble cried with ire,

"You think because I'm centuries old

I can't see your desire?"

"You want to live- 'Tis obvious-

But think my brains the worst,

And so to spite you for your pains

I'll kill your comrades first!"

He turned to Ronon-though prepared,

Because he was disarmed

There was but little he could do

But punch- and be alarmed.

The villain dodged the mighty blow

With movement fast as light,

And though he else was overpow'rd

By this he won the fight.

With cruelty and heartlessness

The wraith began to feed,

For it was more from wickedness

And less authentic need.

Poor Ronon winced, but not a cry

Would e'er his honour mock-

For him 'twas credit so to die

As stoic as a rock.

Of all the strange fantastic things!

Before he even thought

McKay had grabbed a candlestick

And o'er his head had brought.

He smashed it down with all his might

Upon the scoundrel's head,

Who (if (s)he had not been so strong)

Would instantly be dead.

And Chuck had followed Rodney's lead-

He also whacked away,

Until (between the two of them)

They somehow saved the day.

"What will we do?! How can we leave?"

For Rodney 'gan to freak,

And (losing his heroicness)

Again became a geek.

"We'll steal a dart of course!" said Chuck,

"And I know how to steer,

Though I'm a minor character,

I can be useful here."

So off they snuck, nor did they leave

Their half-dead friend behind,

But dragged him, though his total weight

Was more than theirs combined.

A thousand threats attended them,

But tedious to say,

I simply will abbreviate

And say they got away.

But in the meantime- sad to tell

The spirit mourned his host,

Who, sprawled upon the ground, like him

Had given up the ghost.

Lord Beckett sighed and shook his head-

"For I cannot tell why

Although I take good care of them

My hosts all seem to die!"

He paused- it seemed he had a thought

Most evil in its way:

"Of course!" quoth he. "How can it be

I have not tried McKay?"

As Chuck was driving carefully

He did not see, I fear,

A mist seek out poor Meredith

And swiftly disappear.

"We're almost home!" the young man said

In tones that must beguile,

But Rodney only looked at him

And gave a wicked smile…

(1) See The Mysteries of Udolpho and other books of that genre.

(2) Servants' uniforms

(3) Marie Antoinette, I mean.