Chapter 6

"Honor isn't about making the right choices. It's about dealing with the consequences."


Within minutes, news began breaking out all over Atlantis; hushed voices could be heard throughout the 'gate room as people tried to fathom the reality of the situation; Sheppard was gone. Faces tinged with anger and regret flitted across the faces of McKay, Teyla, Ronon and Doctor Weir as they began to learn the truth about what had taken place a short time ago. Elizabeth stood over the Czech scientist as he tried to explain what had taken place moments before.

"I don't care how it happened, Radek. We can sort that out later." Weir's usually calm demeanour was now uncharacteristically abrupt as she tried to gain the facts of the situation.

McKay suddenly had a thought. There's no way he could've gotten past my encryption codes. He had to check and make certain, there was no time for niceties, "Radek, move." Gaining access into his files he realised that there were no signs of them being tampered with. Sheppard couldn't have gotten hold of the data Rodney had found. So he must've gotten them from someone else.

"Rodney?" Elizabeth waited impatiently for him to at least give her some good news, but from the increasing lines protruding from his forehead, it didn't seem likely.

There was no point in telling her unless it was absolutely necessary. "I thought he might have… Never mind."

Elizabeth frowned; they were getting nowhere fast. "I want that 'gate address gentlemen, and I want it now."

Rodney was past frustrated. Didn't anyone understand the finer concepts of the Dial Home Device? "Elizabeth, it's not as simple as that. We need time. The 'gate doesn't normally hold previous co-ordinates in the system; we have to go into the memory buffer to retrieve the data."

"So what's the problem?"

Tick-tock, tick-tock. Wasting time. "As I've mentioned before, the 'gate is not like caller I.D, it's not designed to store addresses. It leaves a slight residual imprint on the master crystal, yes. But it's not that simple to retrieve the coordinates…"

Zelenka chimed in. "Even if we are able to do this, we may not be able to correctly identify the last address, and it could potentially take us hours…possibly days to find the correct one, and even then…" Radek couldn't continue.

McKay didn't want to say it out loud, because then it would make it true, and he didn't want to go there. But she had a right to know. "What he's trying to say is, that the chances of us locating Colonel Sheppard is virtually impossible. By the time we've gone through the 50 or so addresses that it has stored, it could be too late." He lowered his eyes, unable to look at the others. He knew only too well what they were thinking, because they were his thoughts and feelings. His team were fully aware that if he hadn't been the one to put the idea into Sheppard's head, they wouldn't even be having this conversation.

Weir wasn't prepared to accept that. "I know you and impossible, Rodney."

McKay rolled his eyes in annoyance; crossing his arms defensively he told her, "Contrary to what everyone might think of me, I am not Scotty. I don't create impossible scenarios just to make myself look better. Sure, I'm a brilliant theoretical astrophysicist, but if I'm being honest with you, it is purely by dumb luck and a certain amount of creativity, that I have, on the odd occasion, managed to do the impossible."

She looked at him with seriousness in her eyes. "Then I suggest you get lady luck on your side, Rodney."

For once, Rodney didn't know what to say.

The silence in the room was deafening as the sinking reality of the whole situation set in. Radek turned directly to Doctor Weir, his voice held none of the surety that had always been inherently in him. "There is something else." He saw them all turn to face him, and he hesitated briefly before plucking up the courage to finish what he started. "I am sorry, Doctor Weir, but this is my fault I think."

Everyone eyed the man with incredulity – how the hell had Zelenka become embroiled in all of this? McKay was the first to speak. "What did you do, Radek?"

"I thought I was helping." He bowed his head, only now fully understanding how he was partly responsible for the mess he'd found himself in.

His hands gesticulated wildly. "Well as you can quite clearly see for yourself, you didn't. So stop wallowing in self pity and tell us what you did." With his hands firmly planted on his hips, he looked across to his friend with a piercing gaze.

Raising his hands, slightly deflated, he replied, "We were just talking. He was looking for something about the history of the Genii in the Ancient database, but he couldn't access it, so he asked for my help."

"And of course you gave it to him." Rodney accused.

Zelenka tried to explain, but failed miserably. A confused expression crossed his tormented eyes. "I didn't know what he was planning."

Rodney as ever was straight to the point. "So let me get this straight. A sleep deprived man walks up to you, wanting information on the man that nearly tortured him to death, and you thought 'what the hey'? Where were your brains Radek?" In truth he couldn't exactly blame his colleague, not when ultimately he had planned to do the same thing.

Weir gave Rodney a warning look to back off. Placing a comforting hand on his shoulder, she reassured him, "It's not your fault."

"I tried accessing the information, but it was encrypted."

McKay chimed in without thinking, his concern for his friend and frustration at the whole situation was now bubbling to the surface. "I know. I encrypted it."

Weir was now no longer looking at the Czech scientist. Instead her penetrating gaze fell on McKay. "You knew about this, and didn't tell me?" She stopped herself from taking it any further; she'd deal with him later. The only information she wanted now was the ''gate address that Sheppard has used. As Rodney tried to explain his unconventional actions, she put out a restraining hand up to stop him. "I'll deal with you later, Rodney. For now I want you to work with Zelenka and get me that address."

"If it is of any help to you, Sora might know where Colonel Sheppard has gone. That's who he went to see when I could not access the file." He didn't know if it would help any, but right now his concern was for anything but himself.

"Teyla, Ronon, you're with me. Let's see if we can't find any answers to this whole mess. And Sora may be a good a place to start as any." Turning to face her two most intellectual scientists Weir told them in no uncertain terms that she wanted result by the time she got back, and there was no room for argument.

Carson rushed in and saw the normally calm Doctor Weir storming out of the 'gate room with Teyla and Ronon in toe. He'd only just found out that the Colonel had gone AWOL and was gunning for some answers. "Doctor Weir!"

"Not now Carson, talk to Rodney. I'll be back shortly to fill you in." She waved him off dismissively. Carson could, for all intense and purposes wait for answers, but she couldn't. She needed to know what Sora and John had discussed before it was too late.

Beckett shook his head, not quite believing what he'd been told. He approached Rodney with an air of apprehension. He didn't want to believe that the Colonel had gone off into the night after disobeying a direct order. He knew the lad wasn't sleeping well, but he had no idea things had gone this far, and he blamed himself. He knew the young man was in trouble, that was clear for all to see, but he'd put his trust in him and unfortunately that had been his downfall.

"Will somebody please explain to me what the bloody hell happened?" Carson demanded.

There's no time for this. "Cliff notes version – Colonel Sheppard went nuts, stole a jumper and is now somewhere in the Pegasus Galaxy hunting Kolya. Will that do it for you?"

"Didn't anyone try and stop him?" It was a simple question in the grand scheme of things, but Rodney wasn't in the mood to explain everything that had taken place over the last few days.

What the hell kind of question is that? McKay shot him an incredulous look"No Carson, we just packed him a lunch and told him to have a good time."

McKay was getting on his nerves, and he snapped in annoyance, his brogue Scottish accent now flowing thick and fast. "Don't be facetious Rodney, I'm only trying to understand what bloody happened."

"Yes, well, take a number and get-in-line." When the pressure was on, the only thing Rodney could do was snap. He knew he shouldn't be taking it out on Carson; it wasn't the Doctor's fault. But since his friend wasn't here for him to yell at, and he couldn't exactly yell at himself, the Doc was the nearest target. "Now if you'll excuse us, Radek and I are attempting the impossible and you're in the way."

Radek mumbled apologies under his breath as he and McKay worked on the buffers. Between the two of the greatest minds on the expedition it would take a miracle to pull this off, and that was an understatement.


Sheppard exited the vortex and prepared to cloak the jumper, but as fate decreed, he didn't get the opportunity. Within seconds after his arrival the ship came under fire. Rocket propelled grenades bombarded the jumper, he swerved, but it was too late as one of the RPG's connected with the ship. Trying to manoeuvre out of range, he swerved pulling a hard left as they continued taking pot shots at the puddle jumper, each one missing the ship by millimetres. As he attempted to engage the cloak, a warning alarm sounded in the jumper, checking the readouts, he realised that it was badly damaged. Beads of sweat broke out on his forehead as he attempted to evade the weapons fire. Could this day get any worse? Abruptly the ship lurched violently as one of the main drive pods shut itself down as a precautionary measure. Checking to see if he was now out of range of the shooters, he swiftly took stock of the damage to his ship. Luckily enough the craft hadn't sustained any major damage. He soon came to regret those words. Suddenly and unexpectedly, multiple bursts from several energy weapons emanated from the ground and struck the jumper hard. Good one John, you had to open your big mouth!

He desperately tried to stay in his seat as the craft lurched forward sharply, and the inertial dampeners went offline. The impact forced Sheppard to lurch forward resulting in his head colliding hard on the console. As the ship shook violently, Sheppard tried to quell the sensation of falling into nothingness as his vision blurred from the concussive effect of the blow to his head. Clinging on to consciousness, he tired to shake off the pain from his blinding. Reaching up his hand, he attempted to stem the flow of blood from his head wound, which seemed intent on obscuring his vision. As the systems in the jumper began protesting under the strain, John knew instinctively that he was going to crash. The only thing he could do now was at least make it a controlled impact, and hopefully salvage the jumper at some later time. Gaining as much distance from the Stargate and local structures as possible, Sheppard tried to land the jumper in the outer edges of the forest in the hopes of at least concealing it to some degree. Luck however didn't seem to be on his side as the ship's engines cut out, and he lost control, crashing hard into the trees.

As he began drifting back to consciousness he realised that something was very wrong; he knew it instinctively. Of course something's wrong you idiot, you just crashed your favourite jumper. Pain first, then a sudden overwhelming odour threatened to overpower him as it infiltrated his nostrils. He could feel the tightness building up in his chest, suffocating him. Momentary panic set in and he coughed to expel his lungs of the obstruction. Ignoring the blinding pain in his head, he forced himself to open his eyes. All his senses suddenly kicked in at once when he realised it was smoke. Smoke was enveloping the jumper. Crap! Rodney is going to kill me. Then a little voice crept into his head. Only if you actually make it out in one piece. It was a good point. As the smoke continued to infiltrate the jumper, his survival training began to kick. Attempting to move his legs he found his body jammed in the wreckage. He realised that he probably had only a few minutes of breathable air left in the jumper; he had to make a move, and fast. Behaving like a contortionist; he blindly searched for the control panel to release the hatch; his eyes watering form the smoke stinging his eyes. Lying in the pitch black with smoke distorting his senses, he had no idea how much time he had left to release the hatch. The crushing sensation in his chest seemed to becoming decidedly worse as air quality inside the jumper was getting dangerously low. Deftly searching for its intended target, his fingers tried to locate the panel to open the rear hatch. Trying and failing miserably to conserve what breathable air was left, his lungs burned in protest; time was definitely running out.

Finally! As if by magic, the rear hatch descended, and he forcibly extricated his body from the debris and crawled out, only just remembering to snatch his backpack en-route. Gasping for air, he tried to gain some distance from the jumper; slowly making his way on his hands and knees to the nearest clearing, his chest wheezed with the concerted effort. Coughing up the vile taste in his mouth he slumped against the nearest tree he could find unable to go any further. He looked over towards the jumper and wondered if the Lantean crafts actually blew up. Given the length of time they'd been around, and the damage that he and his team had inflicted on them previously, he doubted it. But he sure as hell wasn't prepared to sit and wait to find out if he was right or not. Stealing a look at his favourite jumper one last time, he sighed. Smoke billowed from all sides; the only good thing so far was that it hadn't blown up. Just maybe it was salvageable? He snorted at the absurdity.

He couldn't stay near the jumper; it was just too risky. So with that thought, he tried to stand and found he couldn't. Panic threatened to overwhelm him. His rational side knew it was due to the lack of oxygen in his blood, but for a brief moment he couldn't think rationally. He tried to slow his breathing down and gain some perspective he just needed a moment. Collecting his thoughts, he waited for the heaviness in his chest to subside and his breathing started returning to its normal even rate. He supposed that now was a good a time as any to catalogue his injuries. Fingers? Check. Toes? Check. Torso intact? Check. Head intact? Hmm, not so much. Touching his head, he winced at the large haematoma forming where his head had collided with the console. Taking a large self-adhesive bandage from his medical kit, he carefully positioned it over the now gaping hole in his forehead. The good thing was, he didn't think he'd sustained any serious damages, just a lot of cuts, bumps and bruises, nothing Beckett couldn't handle if he ever managed to survive the mission. But then again, if he didn't, it wouldn't make a blind bit of difference if Beckett could fix him up or not.

Things were not going well.

Given the fact that he'd been shot at on arrival, he doubted that it would be too long before the soldiers sought reinforcements and went after him. With the jumper spewing black smoke into the atmosphere, he had to get as far away from the wreckage as possible. He flexed his legs making sure they were working now before heading off into the dense forest. He smiled in relief at the familiar sensations returning to his extremities. The structure he'd past was only a couple of klicks from his current position, but he needed time to get fully mobile again. He just hoped this was all worth it after all of this.

Flinging his pack over his shoulder he traversed himself around the undergrowth, moving as quickly as possible into the luscious green vegetation that would be his shelter for the next few hours. The sun was setting high in the sky cascading down rays of light through the branches of the trees. The further in he went, the thicker and more overgrown the scrub became, eventually he came across a small gully surrounded by colorful exotic plants and brush. The botanists on Atlantis would have a field day. And with that small reflection, his thoughts turned inward to his team. He knew his rationale had been a bit off the last few days, and deep down he regretted to some degree what he'd put his friends through, particularly with Rodney. They had a strange relationship, he knew that Rodney didn't make friends easily, possibly due to his inept social skills, and that was probably the same reason they had become friends. Neither one was particularly apt at forging friendships, but since he'd arrived on Atlantis, all that had changed. For once he'd actually found himself a family for the first time in his life. But even given all of that, it didn't take away from the fact that he believed what he was doing, and that it was the right course of action. And nothing was going to dissuade him from finishing what he started.

A noise in the distance broke his thoughts. Voices! And they were getting closer.


"Doctor Weir, what a pleasant surprise. Four visitors in 24 hours, I'm flattered." It had been nearly 2 years since she and her commanding officer had tried to seize Atlantis. During her confinement in a small isolated part of the city, watched continuously by a security detail, she could count on one hand how many visitors had come; and now this.

Weir had hoped that all this time in confinement would have made the young girl mellow somewhat. She couldn't have been more wrong.

"Hello Sora."

Taking a moment to look at each of them, she recognised Teyla immediately, it had been a long time since she'd seen her, but the other man seemed unfamiliar. It didn't matter anyway; she had a general idea why they had come to see her.

"We need your help." Her question was short, bittersweet and straight to the point.

"What's in it for me?" If anything, she was determined to get something out of this and was prepared to hold out until she got just what she wanted. It wasn't as if she had anything to lose.

"Your freedom." Weir was not going to spend hours thrashing it out with the young blonde Genii and was prepared to let her go.

"Interesting. You must be really desperate to grant me that. I wonder why that is?" Sora baited as she casually sauntered around her quarters. A small smile played on her lips.

Teyla shook her head. This was pointless, she knew how Sora liked to play games, but she'd hoped that through her confinement the young woman would have, at the least, had time to look at the errors she had made in her life. But in reality, she hadn't changed at all. "Sora. You and I were once friends, brought together by a common enemy. These people are not your enemy."

Sora wasn't prepared to give them anything at the moment. Still bitter over what happened on the hive ship she wasn't prepared to let this go. "They killed my father!"

Teyla, normally the voice of reason, wasn't prepared to waste time and effort on something that wouldn't come to fruition. They had little time to retrieve the information and she was through playing mind games with her former ally. "No, they did not. And you know that just as well as I do. Your father was killed by a Wraith as he attempted to save your planet. He was a casualty of war. Let us not to play games here, Sora. You know where Colonel Sheppard has gone, and we want the location. Are you willing to assist us or not?"

Sora looked thoughtfully at them, they sounded sincere and really all she wanted to do now was go home. "Why should I help you?"

Weir interjected at this point. "Because it would be in your best interest." Her answer was either going to be yes, or no. The problem was, if she did refuse their offer, their hopes at actually finding Colonel Sheppard would be an almost impossible task. "Let me ask you this, Sora. Why were you willing to provide the locations of Genii outposts to Colonel Sheppard, yet not for us?"

"Sheppard killed fifty seven members of my team. Fifty-seven! One of them was the commander's only son. After what Sheppard did to our men, Commander Kolya will kill him on sight. So, I told him where he would most likely be. And I hope, that when the Commander does capture him, he will torture him slowly and painfully, and make him suffer just like my friends did when he killed them."

"For the record, Kolya has already tried that and failed. Only it wasn't only him that carried out the torture, it was a Wraith at Kolya's hands. Were you aware that Kolya teamed up with the Wraith? Those that killed your father?" Doctor Weir knew it was a slight exaggeration on what had actually taken place, but as a skilled negotiator, she knew exactly how to get what she wanted, and this might be the only way.

Sora shook her head emphatically. No. It's not true. He would never betray us like that. "I don't believe you."

"It is true." Teyla told her softly.

Up until now, Ronon had stood silently in the corner, but now he had something to say. "The man that you call your leader is using innocent people as a pawn in his twisted game and then feeding them to the Wraith."

"You're lying." Her voice was now shaking with uncontrolled anger. There is no way that Kolya would join forces with those that culled her village…her home, her family, her father. But then, why would they lie?

Elizabeth knew she was on the edge of believing them, but to drive the point home, she clicked her headset. "Rodney."

McKay's hurried voice came through loud and clear onto her headset. "You've been gone less than an hour, there's not been nearly enough time to…"

Doctor Weir was in no mood to listen to his ramblings. "Rodney, shut up for a minute and listen to me. I want you to download the video feed from Kolya's message and I want you to bring it down to me now."

A slight hesitation came through in his voice. He'd witnessed it first hand, and had hoped to God that he would never have to speak of it again, let alone see it. "Elizabeth…"

"Just do it, Rodney. Weir out." She looked around at the others, each of them nodded in support of her decision.


Picking up pace, Sheppard precariously traversed the vines that seemed that seemed intent on wrapping themselves around his boots. Each movement jarred his bruised and battered body; his head pounding with each step. Squeezing his eyes shut in an effort to block out the pain from his head, he winced making the pain ten times worse. In an effort to clear his mind from the searing pain, he listened intently, he couldn't hear the voices of only a few moments ago, but he wasn't taking any chances. Quickening his pace he proceeded to put one foot in front of the other, the only sound he could hear now was that of his feet treading heavily onto the autumnal leaves that scattered the forest, and his own heartbeat. Eventually he stopped to catch his breath. Hiding behind a large tree that obscured his body, he listened intently for several minutes for any signs that he had company. After feeling secure in the knowledge that he was alone once more, he tried to slow his breathing and consequentially stop the bile from rising in his throat before he vomited. The only thing that was keeping him going so far was what awaited him in the outbuildings at the far edge of the clearing. Kolya!

Maybe doing this on my own wasn't such a great idea. The thought lasted on a second, but it freaked him out. He'd never felt like this on any away mission before. Snap out of it. He berated himself for even thinking such a thing, and hoped that was the end to any niggling doubts. He'd literally gone through hell and back to get this far, and he wasn't prepared to give up now.

A guttural growl from behind him interrupted his thoughts, and it stopped him dead in his tracks. Something was waiting to pounce. His heart rate accelerated exponentially as he stood silently, not daring to make a sound. Cautiously he raised his P-90 in the advance of the danger ahead. The leaves rustled in another direction and he swiftly followed the sound with his weapon. The hairs on the back of his neck stood to attention, and a decidedly bad feeling converged in the pit of his stomach. Something was about to have him for dinner.

He felt a breeze rush through his hair, and turned around at the same time that he felt a stunner hit him squarely in the back; he went down hard. Everything was happening so fast that he didn't have time to stop his head colliding with the ground. His P-90 flew out of his hands, leaving him vulnerable. Sheppard felt the air expel from his lungs so quickly that he didn't have a chance to catch his breath. His vision began greying around the edges, and then suddenly a sensation of falling into nothingness.

Just before mercifully passing out, he felt himself being forcibly placed on his back, and then his shirt being ripped open. As the large beast was preparing to extinguish his prey, Sheppard opened his hazel eyes one last time.

Just before the moment of his death, he saw clearly the predator for the first time. The words of only a few days ago echoed loudly in his ears, 'all bets are off!'

His luck had finally run out.

AN: Thanks for your reviews everyone, they're much appreciated.