Stargate Atlantis -:- Endgame

Author's Note(s):

Thanks for the great reviews (and the birthday messages!) They have (both) left me feeling all warm and fuzzy and have successfully dangled a carrot before my slacking muse – she's not used to writing quite this much… So super thanks again!

This chap, as promised, we return to the actual beginning (Next chap will bring us full circle) and then we get into the action. I should probably add that there will be some equal opportunity whumping around chapter four-ish, as I have been asked for some McKay-whump lol

But back to now – Enjoy chapter two!

Chapter Two -:- No Man's Land

EIGHT HOURS EARLIER: ATLANTIS
Colonel Carter's Office – 0900hours

"We've had a problem with the latest shipment from the Apollo," Lt. Col. John Sheppard reported. He then shrugged, as if rethinking his words. "Depending on your point of view that is. The new batch of MALPs we were meant to be getting was accidently replaced with an additional shipment of rations…"

"What kind of rations?" it would be Rodney McKay that asked that one and Col. Samantha Carter rolled her eyes before gesturing for Sheppard to continue.

"Not coffee rations, if that's what you're getting at," John replied with a quirk of an eyebrow, and Rodney huffed irritably. Sam knew it would only get worse the closer he came to running out of caffeine – and then he would just be unbearable...well, more so. "But a whole bunch of MREs, which isn't going to be much help when it comes to exploring new planets."

Sam sighed, re-ordering the files in front of her so that her latest mission idea was pushed to the bottom. She guessed it would have to wait…again. "Well that puts a dampener on that part of the meeting," she muttered almost inaudibly to herself.

Rodney might have heard her though. "Wait, wait, wait. We've still got the MALP we actually managed to recover from M94-238, you know, the pigmy planet?"

"You mean the MALP the pigmy's decided was a sign of the devil or whatever and beat up with sharp pointy sticks…before proceeding to beat us up with said sharp pointy sticks?" John retorted, the other eyebrow joining the first, making Sam smile at the memory. She remembered that mission vividly, and the post-mission debriefing that had devolved into a kindergarten brawl between Sheppard and McKay. Apparently they were both still sore over that one.

"Yes, that one. How many pigmy planets have you visited?" Rodney huffed, but didn't wait for an answer. "But that's beside the point. The MALP is in a usable condition. The camera received some serious damage so we won't be able to get a visual, but I should be able to get an atmospheric telemetry back to, you know, make sure we won't die on the other side or whatever."

"That's comforting," John muttered, clearly not at all comforted. "We still wouldn't know what we were stepping in to."

"We generally don't."

"You've got a point."

"I always do," Rodney then turned smugly to Sam, gesturing at the subtly buried mission outline. "So, what's that you've got there then?" Both Sam and John were giving Rodney an odd look then, and he glanced between them with a confused expression. "What?"

"You actually want to go on an off-world mission?" John beat Sam to it, and she wondered how high those eyebrows could go. "Are you sure you're feeling alright? You're not possessed or anything?"

Only in the Pegasus galaxy would that be a viable reason for odd behaviour, Sam thought, shaking her head slightly. Then again, it hadn't been much different in the Milky Way. Rodney made his annoyed huffing noise then, a tinge of defensiveness working its way into his voice. "No, I'm not possessed and yes, I am feeling fine. I'm just fed up with doing supply runs where we never find anything interesting or potentially useful. Can't a guy just want to do his job without people looking at him all accusingly?"

"You're bored?" John replied. "You're living in the legendary city of the Ancients, a scientist's heaven, and you're bored? Never thought I'd hear that."

Rodney huffed again, leaning back in his chair with his arms folded. Sam decided to take the opportunity to answer his original question, and pulled out the folder, opening it in front of her. "I've found a planet in the Ancient database that I think might be worth a look. It's been on the 'to explore' list for a while now, and as the Wraith and the Replicators seem quite happy to occupy themselves for a while, it seems like a good time to go."

No one spoke during her brief pause, so she guessed it was safe to assume that she had their attention. "M98-472, or Solaris as the Ancient's called it. It's on the far side of the galaxy in close orbit to its system's sun. The database supplies quite a lengthy entry about the planet being used for several social science experiments…"

"You're saying it's an Ancient outpost?" John interrupted, making Rodney's eyes widen across the table. Obviously he was thinking of all the possibilities as she had when she had found it. There was a high chance there could be a ZPM there, as well as the possibility of defensive technology not found within the city.

"It seems most likely, yes," Sam replied. "And definitely worth a look."

The Gate Room – 1030hours

"Okay…let us see who will win this battle of wills…"

Rodney glared at the uncooperative piece of hardware currently irritating him; and then proceeded to attack…ahem…fix it with a pair of pliers. The wiring gave an encouraging spark, the indicator lights flickering momentarily, before dying again. Rodney gave it another hard stare. "I will tell you now, though. I will be the victor…"

A loud snort of laughter sounded behind him, making Rodney jump. He smacked his head on a sticky-out bit of the MALP causing him to curse before he whirled on the perpetrator. It would be Sheppard, grinning at him like a kid with his arms crossed smugly. "Are you talking to the MALP?"

"No, I'm talking to the atmospheric sensor array that is attached to the MALP; there's a difference," Rodney retorted, accidently making Sheppard's grin wider. He half-expected the colonel to regress to childhood right then and there. "What? Botanists talk to their plants and you don't think that's strange! What's wrong with a scientist talking to a machine?"

"Well, it wasn't really the talking that got me," Sheppard smirked. "It was the fact that you seemed to be challenging it to a duel. Who's winning, dare I ask?"

Rodney rolled his eyes and made a mental note to only think the machine-human conversations in future. He then successfully made the wire spark again, this time the indicator lights staying green. It was his turn to look smug as he straightened up again. "I did."

A mechanical whir behind him let him know that a different part of the damned machine was not being graceful in its defeat. Sheppard took a few steps back as if to take himself out of range. "I think the MALP wants a rematch!"

Rodney watched Sheppard scarper up the stairs and into the control room before turning to take his annoyance out on the machine. He gave it a good kick, the sharp pain running up his leg reminding him that that probably wasn't a good idea. The MALP seemed to get the message though, the unresponsive part suddenly springing back to life. Rodney grinned triumphantly and then grabbed up the controller. "Dial the gate, MALP's ready to go through!"

He was busy focusing on the controller rather than the Stargate, but the slight rumble of the floor told him that Chuck had obliged, the symbols around the ring lighting up in sequence. He looked up as the massive kawoosh settled back into the vertical pool, and then set the MALP on its course. Once certain that the machine's motors were indeed going to work long enough to get the MALP through the gate, he turned and followed the previously departed Sheppard. He grabbed the back of Chuck's chair and wheeled him out of the way to get access to the laptop. The gate tech was too used to the regular occurrence to take offence, keeping his tutting to a quiet minimum.

The rest of the team, Teyla and Ronon, were already there, along with Sam who was watching over his shoulder. She was the only other one there that would understand the data the MALP would send back – the rest of them wouldn't have the pretty moving pictures to tell them what was happening on the other side of the gate. "There we go. We're getting telemetry…whoa."

"Whoa, indeed," Sam muttered over his shoulder. Rodney could feel Sheppard's impatience, but decided not to fill him in. Sam went and burst his bubble instead. "Those are some serious energy spikes; maybe some of the Ancient tech leftover is still active. Is that EM interference?"

Rodney looked where Sam was pointing – surely the woman could recognise EM when she saw…oh. "I don't know…It could be a variation of the shield on the planet with the kids; if this is the outpost we think it is that would make sense….but that is…odd."

"Care to fill in the unenlightened?" Sheppard lost the patience he had cultivated as the two scientists babbled.

"We're picking up readings that aren't exactly normal," Sam clarified, and Rodney wondered if she realised just how far she had simplified it.

Sheppard raised his eyebrows at McKay with mock-serious accusation. "Did you break the MALP?"

"No," McKay stressed the syllable. "But the energy readings do suggest that there is definitely something worth checking out. Atmospheric readings say…that there is viable life support, although there are higher-than-normal concentrations of carbon dioxide in the air. It shouldn't be an issue, though we should probably back the SCBAs as a precaution."

Sam nodded in agreement, and then stood up straight. Down in the gate room the Stargate spluttered out of life. She smiled at the gathered team. "I guess we have a go then. Gear up and be ready for departure at 1130 hours."

SOLARIS STARGATE
1130hours ALT (Atlantis Local Time)

Stepping through a wormhole is disorientating; even after nearly four years of doing so on a regular basis. Though supposedly instantaneous, it doesn't feel that way. It's like being propelled through a tunnel so damn fast that the twists and turns become a dizzying, undecipherable mess, sending your head spinning. It's a wonder that John had managed not to stagger out the other end the first time he had made the trip from Earth.

But this time, the end of the journey felt distinctly odd. The first thing he noticed was a black, cloud-heavy sky, and then he had the sudden sensation of missing a step, an unexpected change in axis throwing him off-balance. He managed to right himself before he fell flat on his face though, and without a conscious thought caught Rodney by the vest when the scientist went through the same experience. Teyla and Ronon, being the stealthy ninjas they were, pulled off a similar stunt to John, covering the moment they tripped.

The Stargate was at an angle. It leaned back like a drunkard, looking skyward instead of forward. The wormhole winked out of existence the moment they were clear. The strange experience put John on alert, his P90 pressed into his shoulder as he scoped out their surroundings in the near-blackness of the night. They were in a trench or a crater of some sort, the walls of the hole surrounding them on all sides. A roll of barbed wire spread around the perimeter of the lip. John was not comfortable being stuck on the low ground, and judging by Ronon's rigid posture in the corner of his eye, he knew the Satedan was feeling the same.

Then there was movement. All of them, well, three of them at least, raised their weapons in the general direction of the flicker. Rodney followed suit a few seconds later, a strange look on his face. John didn't have the time to ponder what had caused it though, his focus entirely on the lip of the crater they found themselves in.

Something else moved, and wordlessly, the four of them split their aim between the two. John remained focused on the first, squinting to see in the darkness. His eyes had yet to fully adjust to the night after the brightness of the midday-sun on New Lantea. A few blinks solved the problem though, and he could soon see the dark outline of someone's head and shoulders – along with a long cylinder that was unmistakably a rifle. Crap.

Teyla passed him a look, obviously seeing what he had. It became apparent pretty quick that they were practically surrounded, although none of the strangers seemed to be too close to the gate. If this turned into a fire fight, it didn't take a genius to figure out that they wouldn't fare well. Maybe he should try some of that diplomacy he was so good at.

Somewhat reluctantly, John took his left hand off of his P90, holding it up to show surrender. He lowered the gun slightly, not wanting to leave himself completely defenceless if this didn't work out as planned...not that that helped him in the slightest.

CRACK.

So much for that idea. The impact threw him to the hard-packed ground – the force of the collision knocking the wind out of him. He was vaguely aware that all hell had broken loose around him, but John was a little preoccupied with the task of breathing at that point. Overhead he could make out shadows in the sky, the familiar fwup-fwup-fwup of helicopter rotors reaching his ears. For a moment he thought he was back in the desert, unwelcome memories stealing his attention.

Then he was being hauled up by his TAC vest and set on unsteady feet. He gritted his teeth against the pain of the movement, forcing his focus back to reality. He had enough of his wits about him to realise that running was a good idea, and staggered up the incline behind the lifeless gate. The strong grip was still on his vest, keeping him upright when he lost his footing. It was Ronon who was holding onto him, still firing his pistol over his shoulder as they ran. Rodney ran ahead of them, his outline bobbing in and out of focus as he led them in a jagged line to avoid presenting themselves as even easier targets. Teyla was on their left and slightly behind them, pausing sporadically to fire bursts of her P90 to dissuade their attackers from following.

They were out in the open in unfamiliar terrain, the bullets of their pursuers whizzing dangerously close. A spotlight sudden beamed down nearby, the helicopter above them apparently not being a figment of John's imagination. "Find cover!"

Rodney heard his yell, continued onwards a few dozen yards, and then disappeared from sight. For a petrifying moment, John thought he had been hit, but then Ronon and he had caught up and he was shoved unceremoniously into a hole. The Satedan dropped down next to him, helping John sit up and lean against the wall, Teyla joining them seconds later.

So, they had switched out one hole for another, but hopefully it had brought them some time. John tried not to think about the fact that they were practically fish in a barrel. The lip of the crater shielded them a little from the spotlight, and from what he had seen of the terrain through pain-hazed vision there were plenty of other craters for their pursuers to search first.

Teyla seemed to have drawn the same conclusion and turned her attention to him. John knew his breathing was more erratic than it should be and he tried to figure out where he had been hit. He could feel something warm and wet both on his chest and his back. He bit his lip to get himself under control, and then took a look. A shoulder hit. Could have been worse. Their TAC vests weren't completely bullet proof; he was all too aware of that. A hit a few inches to right could easily have ended it for him. "That sucked."

Teyla had pulled a field dressing from her own vest and was currently unzipping his to get to the wound. His unclipped P90 had been put within arm's reach. Ronon had appointed himself the sentry and was keeping an eye on the sky and their surroundings, while Rodney was tucked against the wall opposite, still with that strange expression. "What part? The part where we got ambushed, the running for our lives bit or the fact that we are now completely stuck?"

John let out a hiss as Teyla wrapped the awkward wound, and she passed him an apologetic look. He managed a wry grin. "I was thinking of the part where I got shot."

Rodney actually looked a little contrite at that. "Right, that bit too."

"I can't tell how bad it is in this light," Teyla sounded irritable and just a touch concerned as she finished tying the bandage. "I think the bullet went all the way through, judging by the exit wound. We need to get him back to Atlantis."

"That's going to be difficult," John muttered, shifting slightly and instantly regretting it. "I don't think the nice gun-toting locals are really going to let us just walk back to the gate somehow."

"Actually, that's not the biggest problem," Rodney replied before Teyla could. "Didn't you notice? The Stargate was in the middle of a bomb crater. There was no DHD left even though the ring survived whatever explosion that took out the console. We can't dial out."

John let his head fall back against the crater wall. "Crap."

That explained the strange expression. Rodney must have seen the one-way ticket while they had been preoccupied with the locals. A jumper could solve the problem with ease, but they couldn't call for one. It would be at least another eight hours before Sam called them when they missed their check-in, and they couldn't sit there in the crater and wait. Their pursuers would catch up to them soon enough; and the four of them weren't exactly in a position to fight. In a word, they were completely screwed.

The expressions on the faces around him told John that they had all drawn the same conclusion. He closed his eyes. Now was the time when he was meant to come up with some brilliant plan that would get them all home safely. He was drawing a blank.

He felt the brightness of the spotlight on his eyelids, and he blinked them open again. Shouts and the echoes of booted feet sounded from the surface. They had already been found.

All three of them looked to John then, waiting for his decision. Surrender or run. Fight or flight. When it came down to it though, he didn't really have a choice.

Shadows fell across them then, several guns taking aim.

Woot! A next-day chapter! As always, please let me know what you think :P

Also, quick note: SCBAs are Self-Contained Breathing Apparatuses, like what fire-fighters wear in case you are wondering.