You guys are fabulous. The FB is awesome and keeping me motivated. Once this story is finished I hope to go back and finish up RUINS. Thanks to Kodiak for fixing my mistooks. :D
Ronon had a destination in mind as he carried Veesa off, and it wasn't back to Atlantis. Instead, he led the way into an outcropping of rock, which Lorne soon discovered opened up into a cave. Striding over to the far corner, Ronon dumped Veesa to the ground then nodded to Teyla.
Lorne was almost amused as he watched Teyla pull a set of tie strips out of her vest and use them to bind Veesa's wrists behind her back. A part of him felt he should step in and remind both Ronon and Teyla that he was in charge here. But, truth be told, so far he approved of their methods. He also knew they worked well together as a team and he saw no reason to mess with things for the time being. That said, he turned to Ronon and asked, "Now what?" Because he was pretty sure the big guy had a plan.
"We wait for her to wake up," Ronon said, his tone betraying the fact he thought it was an obvious answer to a stupid question.
"How long is that going to be?" Lorne prompted. He didn't know what setting Ronon had zapped Veesa with. Or if it was a matter of how each individual reacted to being stunned with the Satedan weapon.
Ronon simply shrugged before moving into a squatting position next to Veesa's prone body.
Lorne decided to do the same, only at the woman's feet. He kept an eye on her slack features and was pleased when he saw her eyelids flutter. They needed to get this show on the road. When they'd left Atlantis, Doctor Weir hadn't looked so good.
A moment later Veesa's eyes were open and she was shifting around. When her predicament apparently struck her and she tried to sit up and crawl to get her back against the wall. "What have you done to me?" she demanded, but her tone was shaky and weak.
"Stunned you," Ronon replied, looking pleased. "What did you do to Weir?" His tone was deceptively soft, but laced with steel, and he moved closer to Veesa, letting himself loom over her.
"I will tell you nothing!" Veesa spat, struggling in an attempt to free her arms. She failed miserably and attempted to glare at Ronon.
He looked amused for a moment, then his expression turned cold as ice and he was in her face. "You will tell me." It was a promise, not a threat.
Veesa seemed to understand that, yet she tried to remain uncowed. "Go ahead and torture me!" she snarled. "I can withstand any pain!" She sounded fairly certain, but the glimmer of fear in her eyes didn't back up her proclamation. That and the fact that she was trembling.
Lorne considered intervening now, but Teyla touched his arm and when he looked at her she shook her head, silently asking him to trust Ronon. Lorne backed off, for now.
"Any pain?" Ronon drawled, as he rose to his feet and turned around. Then he was striding towards the exit.
"Where are you going?" Veesa called after him, sounding confused.
Lorne was feeling pretty damned confused himself.
Ronon froze, turned back around and said, "To wipe out your people."
Silence filled the cave for a long moment. A heavy, stunned, silence.
"Teyla!" Lorne hissed to her, beginning to think that Ronon was far more twisted and dangerous than anyone suspected.
"Trust him," she hissed back, her tone firm as she locked eyes with him.
Lorne realized she trusted Ronon and that maybe she knew what he was doing. If Teyla accepted it, then it wouldn't be something insane and stupid. Or so Lorne hoped. He really didn't know Teyla all that well. Mainly he trusted her and Ronon because Sheppard did. But he nodded and turned his attention back to Ronon, hoping he didn't regret this.
Veesa was staring at the Satedan in horror. "What are you talking about?" she replied.
"You tried to destroy my people," Ronon answered, moving back to her side and staring down at her with cold eyes. "I intend to return the favor. Only I won't fail."
"No!" Veesa turned pale, eyes searching his face and suddenly she appeared to deflate the fight gone. "Please do not harm my people!" She was out and out begging.
One corner of Ronon's mouth twitched and he crouched back down again, holding her gaze with his own. "How do we fix Weir?" he countered.
Veesa drew in a shuddery breath, then she began talking.
OoO
He felt like shit. Nauseous, jittery, headache throbbing with pain. And adding to the misery were new symptoms. Cramping. Of the likes John hadn't felt since he'd gotten food poisoning when he was 19. This cramping felt worse than those, like his insides were knotting themselves together then playing tug of war. Trying to find a good position to curl up in was hopeless. Every time he tried it made his shoulder feel like it was on fire. Having a fever wasn't helping either. It was low grade and Beckett wasn't even particularly worried about it, but it was one more thing to add to the crappiness. The kicker being that anything Beckett gave John in an attempt to help him, pretty much left him feeling worse.
Despite everything, he was trying to keep it together. To keep control. To be able to function enough to remain in charge of things because Elizabeth wasn't even close to being able to take her job back. In fact, she was dying. John knew that Beckett's concern over Elizabeth was the only thing keeping the good Doc from paying more attention to John's misery. For which he was grateful.
"How is she?"
John jumped at the sound of Rodney's voice beside him. Jumped and bit back a groan as pain rippled through him, feeling like it was everywhere. He slowly opened his eyes, blinking hard to bring McKay's worried face into focus. He shifted his eyes to the bed in the far corner with the emergency curtain drawn. "Not good," John replied. "She's dying."
Rodney winced at that. "Yeah."
Everyone knew it even though John was now the first to actually say it out loud. The fever was ravaging Elizabeth's body and her organs were beginning to shut down. Beckett was keeping her alive, but he was losing the battle. Forcing himself to focus on the things he could do something about, John asked, "Any word from Lorne?"
"No." Rodney looked despondent as he pulled up a chair and sat down. "They're out of radio contact." He scrubbed a hand over his face, rubbing at red-rimmed eyes, then said, "We don't have much time, do we?" His eyes darted over to the curtained bed.
"They'll make it back in time," John stated, emphatically. Because he had to believe it was true.
Rodney appeared to want to believe it too. He grimaced but nodded then asked, "How are you feeling? You look like crap."
And there was the McKay they all knew and loved. John let himself relax into a sweet second of normality. Plus it was time to face a harsh reality of his own. "I've been better," he allowed. "Um...how do you feel about co-leading things for a time?" The question came out in a rush. John wasn't one to hide from difficult things, but he wasn't thrilled about having to face this either. And he was a bit worried about Rodney going power crazy. Not intentionally of course, but they had talked about it one night. About what being in charge of Atlantis would be like and Rodney had gone on and on about the changes he would make and the things he would do, if given a chance. John wasn't sure he was ready to give it to him.
"Co-leading?" Rodney echoed, looking surprised. "Really?"
"Sure." John grinned at him. "It's not like you aren't doing that already anyway." Which was the truth. With John being stuck in the infirmary, he'd had no choice but to rely on Rodney to handle certain things. All he was really doing now was making it official. "I want updates and often though," John warned.
Rodney nodded. "I can do updates." He was about to say more when his radio beeped. Rodney tapped his ear and said, "McKay!"
John listened intently to the voice on the other end of the radio. The one announcing that Lorne just sent his IDC. He locked eyes with Rodney and nodded.
"Let them in and send them straight to the infirmary!" Rodney ordered, before tapping off. He jumped to his feet and began pacing. "I really hope they have good news."
"So do I!" Carson interjected, as he moved to John's bed and, reflexively, began taking his pulse. "Elizabeth isn't doing well at all."
John felt ready to jump out of his skin. But he made a show of being calm and letting Beckett fuss over him. Letting it be a bit of a distraction as they waited for Lorne and the others to show up. The seconds seem to tick by slowly, each one dragging out until if felt more like a minute. Then there was the sound of commotion and suddenly it seemed as if a dozen people were in the room, surrounding his bed. It took John a moment to get focused and sort things out. After a moment he realized that Lorne was standing with Cadman, to his left, and that both looked grim. Teyla was on his other side and Ronon was at the foot of the bed with a tall woman at his side. A tall woman with her hands bound behind her. Instinctively John knew it had to be Veesa. She looked the way Elizabeth had described her. "Report!" John said to Lorne.
The Major nodded then spoke quickly, efficiently giving them the details they needed. "We found Veesa and Dex got the information we need from her. Teyla can probably explain it to Dr. Beckett better."
Carson stepped forward before John could reply. He faced Teyla. "What did you find out, lass?"
"That Doctor Weir was drugged," Teyla stated, looking angry yet composed as always. She dug into her pocket and pulled something out. It looked gray and tuberous with sproutings that looked like gnarled veins. "This is the antidote to the drug. Doctor Weir must chew it so that it is absorbed into her system quickly."
"She's unconscious," Carson countered, looking upset even as he accepted the root and appeared to study it. "She can't chew anything."
John did not want to hear that. "There must be something you can do," he prompted.
Carson was nodding. "Yes. I think if we crush it, it will juice up enough that we can dribble it on her tongue. Same affect as her chewing it." He turned and made to move off.
Rodney caught him by the arm. "You aren't really going to give that to her, are you? It could be another form of poison!"
"We don't really have a choice!" Carson snapped. "Elizabeth is dying as we speak!" That announcement hung in the sudden silence that filled the room.
John shattered it. He locked eyes with Teyla. "Do you think it's safe to give to Elizabeth?"
Teyla made a face, then nodded. "Yes. I believe Veesa is telling us the truth."
"She is," rumbled Ronon, his expression stern. His grip on Veesa's arm tightened and she gasped and glared at him.
"Do it then," John said to Beckett. He watched the man nod then scurry away."
Rodney looked dumbfounded and he moved closer to John, stabbing a finger nearly into his face. "You probably just killed Elizabeth!" he snapped.
John grabbed McKay by the wrist then locked eyes with him. "If we don't try she's dead anyone. We've got nothing to lose." And that grim reminder seemed to shake Rodney out of his anger.
"Right." Rodney yanked his wrist free and started pacing.
"Why did you bring Veesa back here?" John asked Lorne.
The Major shrugged. "It was Ronon's idea. He believes it will keep her honest."
John sensed there was much more to the story, but he was content to ask about it later. Right now most of his attention was directed toward the bed in the corner. But he did remember to give Lorne one last order for the moment. "Take our prisoner to the Brig. If Elizabeth dies she'll remain as our guest indefinitely."
"Yes, sir." Lorne nodded, looking pleased. He moved to Veesa and took her by the arm, tugging her away from Ronon. Then Lorne walked out, Cadman trailing after him.
"How are you feeling, Colonel?" Teyla asked him, once the team was alone.
John wasn't sure how to answer that. Truthfully, he felt like shit. He decided to settle on mostly the truth. "I'll be fine." He was sure he would be as soon as he could get out of the infirmary and back to his room. One cup of Shuloc tea and John knew he would feel better. But since he couldn't escape just yet, he decided to try and distract himself. "Did Veesa tell you why she drugged Elizabeth?"
Teyla nodded. "To force her to destroy Atlantis. The Pyrdians believe that the Ancients created the Wraith with the intent to destroy their world and they wanted to punish us for that."
"How nice of them," Rodney interjected.
"They need to get in line," John replied, noticing McKay's crooked mouth twitch in an attempt not to smile. His work here was done, at least on one level. Rodney was starting to chill. Not that any of them were going to be able to relax until they knew Elizabeth was alright. "What about the drug. I mean, how could it make her obey orders like that?"
Rodney made a face and replied before Teyla could. "Has to be psychotropic, making her open to implanted suggestions."
Teyla was nodding. "That is basically what Veesa told us. We have the vegetable that they use to make the drug." She produced it from another pocket on her vest. "I thought Dr. Beckett might want to study it."
"They get the drug from a vegetable?" Rodney squeaked, turning a shade paler. "That's just wrong!"
"It's working!" Carson's excited voice carried across the room to them. A moment later he appeared at the foot of John's bed. "The juice is fast acting," he said, happily. "I no more than touched it to Doctor Weir's tongue and she began stirring. Her vitals came up and she's responsive."
Ronon looked satisfied. "She told the truth about that. Lucky for her."
John realized that Ronon had been prepared to kill Veesa had Elizabeth died. Truthfully, he had been prepared to let him. But now it would be fair to let the woman go. "Teyla, I want you and Ronon to take Veesa back home tomorrow morning." He figured keeping her overnight would be wise, to make certain Elizabeth suffered no complications."
"We will be happy to do that, Colonel," Teyla replied. She looked relieved, with a soft smile now curving her lips.
"So Carson, how long before Elizabeth wakes up?" Rodney asked.
Beckett hesitated, looking like he didn't want to get their hopes up. "I'm hoping within the next few hours."
Ronon grunted then said, "Veesa told us that once the antidote is administered, Weir should recover quickly without any ill effects."
"I wonder if she will remember what happened to her?" John mused out loud.
"I've been wondering that myself," Carson seconded.
Teyla smiled at them both. "Veesa said that Doctor Weir's memories should be intact."
Carson looked relieved. "I'm glad to hear that."
"Me too," John piped in, then he stifled a groan as pain twisted through his gut. Fucking cramps were killing him.
"Everyone out!" Carson announced, shooing Ronon, Teyla and Rodney towards the door. "My patients need to rest."
John thought about protesting having everyone run off, because the company offered a distraction, but then another wave of pain rippled through his midsection and he was too busy trying to breathe through it.
Carson was by his side, a syringe in hand. He dumped the contents into the IV port. "This should give you some relief, Colonel," he said gently. "I just wish I knew what to do to fix you up. Nothing is showing in your blood work. Best I can figure is you have some kind of virus we've never come across before."
"Lucky me," John moaned through gritted teeth. He felt a liquid warmth start seeping through his brains and with it came a bit of relief. After a few minutes, the pain eased up more and warm darkness drifted over him. John felt his eyelids grow heavy.
"Get some sleep, Colonel," Carson said in a voice that sounded tinny and very far away.
John was all for it, letting himself slip gently away.
OoO
The blissful darkness faded away into shadows. Then the shadows became figures, ghost-like forms with blurred faces, slithering in and out of his dreams. Dreams that ended with him walking through Atlantis, leaving a trail of bloody footsteps behind. He was all alone now. Everyone else was dead and their blood slicked his hands. It tracked like scarlet tears down his face, pooling into his mouth until he gagged on the copper taste and the rancid stench of it.
Then bile was rising in his throat and John bolted upright, ignoring the searing pain that the movement ignited throughout his body. He spewed vomit over the side of the bed, hearing it splatter on the floor, then hands were on him, supporting him as he heaved until his stomach was empty. Then cool wetness washed away the cold sweat that slicked his face, cooling the fever-heat of his skin, wiping away the memory of his dreams.
"Colonel, are you feeling better now?" Carson asked.
John forced his eyes open, blinking hard until Beckett's face came into focus. "Better," he croaked, forcing out the lie. He felt worse. He trembled against the effort not to scratch at his skin, feeling so jittery that it was as if an electric current was running through his veins. The cramps were still twisting in his gut, and his head was pounding, the nausea still sharp on his tongue. John needed the Shuloc and he needed it now. "Just...tired," he whispered, making himself unfurl a bit. "How...how's Elizabeth?"
Carson grinned. "She's doing much better. I'll probably release her tomorrow morning."
"Good," John said softly. "Sleepy," he added, closing his eyes, and he was relieved when Beckett got the hint and wandered off. John watched him through slitted eyes as he fussed over Elizabeth. He was glad she was better now. Glad she could take back her job. He never wanted to run things anyway. All he cared about at the moment was to stop feeling miserable. Lady Luck appeared to be smiling on John.
Beckett got an emergency call to one of the labs and he ran off, taking two nurses with him. The nurse left on duty went with Elizabeth to the bathroom and John heard her mention a shower. Which was his cue to leave. Unhooking the IV took a moment because he couldn't get his hand to stop shaking, so he finally just tugged it out, uncaring about the tiny tear to his skin. Then John was on his feet, hunched over against the pain. By the time he slipped out into the hallway, he was ready to crawl to his room. Once in the transporter, he sagged against the wall. It felt like an hour passed before he was finally in his room.
Stumbling over to where he kept the hot pot, John plugged it in and grabbed a mug, but he was shaking so hard he dropped it. He wanted to cry but blinked back tears of frustration and found another mug. He filled it with water and set it to boil, before making himself focus on cleaning up the broken shards of mug and tossing them in the trashcan. He then grabbed a tea bag and the Shuloc bag and grabbed the water. Half a mug of water heated pretty fast and John figured the stronger the dose of tea the better. He dumped in the tea bag and two Shuloc leaves, stirred it with a finger then gulped it down. He didn't even notice at first that he dribbled some of it down his chin. He made himself unplug the hot pot, shove the mug in the drawer with the Shuloc leaves and close it, then he let himself collapse on the floor.
John lost track of how much time passed, but eventually he stopped shaking and the pain in his gun untwisted itself and faded away. He still felt achy and lightheaded, but better enough to crawl into the bathroom, strip, and climb into the shower. After a time the hot water eased away some of the aches as well and, although he didn't feel perfect, John felt so much better that he realized he was smiling. Now he could get some restful sleep.
He got out of the shower, dried off enough not to drip then wrapped the towel around his waist while he brushed his teeth. That done he was ready to pull on sweats and a t-shirt then crawl into bed. Only when he stepped back into his room it was to find Beckett waiting for him.
The good doc was pissed. It was obvious in his stance and in the glare emanating from the laser blue eyes. John winced then waved a limp hand at him. He felt better but still weak and when he took a step forward he stumbled, feeling dizzy. He felt Beckett grip his arm and guide him over to his bed.
"What the bloody hell do you think you're doing, Colonel?" Carson demanded, even as he gave John a cursory once over.
"I'm sorry," John apologized, almost automatically. "I felt sweaty and gritty and there was no one around so I came back here to take a shower. I really do feel better now." He knew it had to show.
Some of the anger deflated from Carson. "Sorry that no one was there," he said. "I had an emergency that turned out to be somewhat of a false alarm. The nurse on duty was helping Elizabeth. She thought you were sleeping."
John shrugged, feeling the pull in his shoulder, but it was a dull pain this time, which was a vast improvement. "It's okay. No harm no foul. I just want to sleep now. In my own bed. I'll sleep better. Especially since it's quieter in here and...more private." He made all his arguments up front.
"I'm surprised you managed to make it here on your own," Carson stated.
"I pretty much crawled," John allowed, offering a grin. He was pretty sure Beckett was going to let him stay here.
Carson sighed then shook a finger at him. "I should haul you back to the infirmary, and I still might," he warned. "But let's get you dressed first, you're shivering, then I'll give you a check over and if I'm happy with the results you can stay here. For now."
John was willing to accept that deal. He pointed to the bottom drawer. "Sweats and old t-shirts," he said. When Beckett grabbed them and came back over, John accepted his help getting dressed. Then he was happy to slide under the covers and let the doc fuss over him.
"You do seem to be better," Carson allowed, looking surprised. "Temp is down and I can tell you're not hurting as much."
"Turned the corner I guess," John offered, as a reasonable explanation for his sudden recovery. And he could tell that Beckett bought it. Which was a relief in itself. "I'm even a little hungry." That perked Beckett right up. "So...can I stay here?"
Carson nodded. "Alright, Colonel. If you promise to stay put." When John nodded he sighed. "I'll send a nurse to check on you and bring you some soup. I'm going to be doing periodic checks and if you leave this room I will hunt you down and haul your scrawny behind back to the infirmary. Understand?"
John grinned. "I get it, Doc. I'll stay put. I just want to sleep."
"Good." Carson fussed with the covers then patted John's shoulder. "Get some rest."
"How's Elizabeth doing?" John asked, just because he wanted to make sure she really was all right.
Carson grinned, looking light-hearted. "She's pretty much back to normal. A bit tired but otherwise perfectly fine. I may release her in a few hours."
John was glad to hear that. "Can I see her later?"
"You just got done promising me you wouldn't leave this room, Colonel!" Carson chided.
"She can visit me," John protested.
Carson shook a finger at him. "You'll be sleeping. Maybe tomorrow."
John stuck his tongue out, not caring how childish it was. But truth be told, he would be sleeping. His eyelids were already drooping. "Night..." he mumbled, feeling sleep pulling hard at him. He welcomed it this time because he knew he wouldn't dream now.
"Sweet dreams," Carson whispered, as if reading John's thoughts.
But John didn't reply. He was already sleeping.
OoO
When he woke up he felt much better. In fact he was smiling as he spotted the note from Beckett on his nightstand. Along with a glass of juice and a warning to stay in bed until he got there. But John didn't stay in bed. Instead he got up and relieved his bladder, took another shower. He felt a bit jittery, but he knew how to fix that. So once he was dressed again he made some tea. He drank the juice while waiting, knowing Beckett would be checking up on him, then he prepared his tea, took a sip, then got back in bed with his book.
Five minutes later there was a knock on the door. Before John could call out, expecting it to be Beckett, Elizabeth's voice announced herself. "Come in!" John said, not able to keep the surprise from his voice. He watched the doors open and Elizabeth enter, smiling. "How are you feeling?" She looked much better than the last time he'd seen her.
"I guess I'm okay," Elizabeth replied, moving over to the bed. "Better than I was."
"Come sit." John patted the side of the bed. "You must be better if Beckett released you," he prompted, because he sensed she wasn't really talking about her physical well being and he figured he'd give her an opening.
Elizabeth made a face but sat down. She studied John a minute then said, "You look tired, but better than I had expected from what Beckett had told me about your condition."
John shrugged, being careful not to spill the remains of his tea. There hadn't been a need to chug it down this morning so he was allowing himself to savor it. He tensed when Elizabeth leaned down to sniff the contents.
"Lemon?" she asked.
"Sort of," John replied, almost stumbling over the reply. "Would you like some?" He meant the regular tea of course. Although Elizabeth looked like she could use some Shuloc at the moment. He could tell she was upset and that something was weighing heavily upon her.
A shake of her head and Elizabeth was up and pacing. "No, thanks. I'm good."
John watched her pace a moment then asked, "What's wrong?" Apparently she needed to be asked because she didn't hesitate to answer.
"I tried to destroy Atlantis!" Elizabeth looked shaken by her own words.
"No, you were mind controlled and didn't know what you were doing," John replied. "I'm sure Beckett and McKay have told you the whole story."
Elizabeth nodded. "Everyone told me their version," she allowed. "Doesn't change the facts."
John knew that better than anyone. He didn't know what she wanted to hear, so he told her what he knew. "Don't go there."
"What?" She looked surprised by his words. Surprised enough to stop pacing and sit down again.
"You can't go back and change what happened," he said firmly. "You can't fight harder, or do something different. It's over. Let it go."
Elizabeth looked pissed for a minute, like she might argue with him, but then she sighed softly and whispered, "I know. But it's easier said than done."
John reached out and patted her arm, feeling a bit awkward. "Tell me something I don't know," he countered. When she looked at him he realized she understood what he was saying and that she was trying to accept it.
"Thanks," Elizabeth whispered, looking like there was more she wanted to say. But Beckett was suddenly striding into the room.
"Ever hear of knocking?" John said to him, pointedly. But he wasn't angry. Beckett had medical override and wasn't afraid to use it.
Carson grinned at him. "I've heard of it," he allowed. Then he turned to Elizabeth. "How are you feeling? Did you have your breakfast?"
Elizabeth's return smile was genuine. "I feel pretty good and, yes Carson, I had breakfast." She let amusement color her tone. Turning to John she said, "We'll talk later."
"When I'm released from confinement," he stated, keeping one eye on Beckett and resisting the urge to laugh when the good doctor glared at him.
"Later then," Elizabeth allowed. "Carson." That said she exited the room with her usual grace.
Carson was already examining John, eyeing his mug. "I didn't know you were a tea drinker, Colonel?"
John had forgotten the tea. He swallowed down the rest of it and set the mug aside. "On occasion," he allowed. "It's all I had in here." Not really lies, he told himself.
"I see you drank the juice," Carson continued.
"And went potty and took a shower and went back to bed like a good little boy," John sing-songed. "Can I go out and play now?"
Carson snorted, lifting up John's t-shirt to check his shoulder. "It looks good. Okay then. You can leave to get breakfast, eat something light. Then you can come back for a nap, then you can take a walk. I'll check you again later. If you continue to do so well I'll put you on light duty tomorrow and we'll go from there."
John was willing to accept that. Now that he could keep taking the Shuloc regularly, he knew he'd be fine and back on duty in no time. For now he slid out of bed, stomped his feet into some sneakers and headed out the door. For the first time in a long time, he was hungry.
OoO
John was back to full, active, duty in six days. During his down time he had returned to the chair and made more repairs with Atlantis guiding him to the necessary places. He made sure to rest in between, but he did go back to running with Ronon in the mornings. The exercise always made him feel better. As did the three cups of Shuloc tea a day. By the time Beckett returned him to full duty, John was raring to go.
Oddly though, as he stood in the Gateroom waiting for his team to assemble, John felt the urge to head for the chair room. He had been dreaming about connecting with Atlantis of late. Good dreams. Dreams where she showed him all kinds of wonderful new things to help Atlantis and her new inhabitants thrive. Things that he wanted to talk to Rodney about at some point, to see how much of it was nothing more than a dream, as opposed to what was real.
"Ready to go?"
Elizabeth's voice interrupted John's musings.
He grinned at her. "I was born ready," he replied.
"Just be careful," she cautioned, smiling back.
"Aren't I always?" John quipped. He saw the rest of his team assembling around him and he felt like something big was about to happen. He couldn't explain why. This mission was a cakewalk. No bad guys that they knew of. Nothing more than a hunt for people or things that they might be able to use or trade for.
But when they stepped through the gate and in to a whole new world, they were greeted with darkness.
Rodney's voice was low and tinny when he stated, "This didn't show up on the MALP."
John didn't get a chance to reply. He had sensed a strange odor, but before he could warn anyone he found himself falling into darkness.