Stargate Atlantis -:- Endgame

Author's Note(s):

Not quite the quick update I promised, but it didn't take as long as last time lol! As always, thanks to my super wonderful reviewers, glad you're liking this so far!

Oh, and special thanks to the Stargate wiki that I ended up totally plagiarising for an explanation about the Stargate (you'll see when you get there :P)

Enjoy!

Chapter Four -:- Under Extreme Duress

NORTH SOLARIS: DOMILITIS FRONT LINE
46 Hours 30 Minutes and counting
[1410hours ALT]

All but Sheppard got handcuffed for the return journey through the underground complex – the fact that he had one arm trapped in a sling caused some logistical problems for the soldiers. Apparently they were being moved for the next part of this fun mission; and Rodney doubted that that was a good sign. The General and Talyn led their group through the monotonous tunnels, but instead of taking them back out to the trenches they were led to the far side of the facility and out onto a landing pad.

Rodney's heart sank. They were being taken even further away from the Stargate – their chances of getting off this planet diminishing down to false hope.

"Now that's cool."

Rodney glared at the back of John's head for the completely inappropriate comment. The man must realise by now just how screwed they were, right? And then Rodney got a glance of what had caused the comment, and rolled his eyes. It was daylight now, the sun glinting off of the metal shell of what could best be described as Frankenstein's helicopter. It was pieced together from at least three different…things; the rotors mismatched and the doors not quite fitting their frames. It was big too; it could probably carry about twelve passengers as well as the two pilots who were already readying for take-off.

The soldier nearest Sheppard had jumped at his voice and looked just about ready to shoot something out of fright. Rodney threw John an exasperated look once they were next to each other in the wider space. Honestly, the man was a child. John just half-shrugged in reply, and then they were moving again…towards the contraption. As far as Rodney was concerned, it did not look airworthy, and he hesitated when it became unavoidably apparent that this was to be their mode of transportation to…wherever. "Are you are this is safe?"

The General glared at Rodney with contempt. There was a tense moment of the pair just staring at each other, before Sheppard managed to place himself in the middle. Ronon and Teyla were watching as well, ready for anything. Rodney was secretly pleased that this was his team. John gave the General an easy smile as if the man wasn't promising all sorts of pain with those eyes. "So…where are we going?"

It was Talyn who answered, and Rodney was actually glad that she was there. She hadn't been a whole bunch of help so far, but she seemed as if she genuinely wanted to fight their corner. At this point, they would take whatever ally they could get. "We are going to the main city to…"

"Let's not ruin the surprise, Sana," the General interrupted, but the expressions on both their faces had already finished the sentence. "All aboard, now."

What were the chances of them escaping now? Rodney asked himself. He could see the others scanning their surroundings carefully, trying to find that slim chance. But they were surrounded, cuffed, unarmed, and in all honesty more than a little screwed. Attempting an escape now would probably end with most, if not all, of them dead. So, the answer to his own question would be nil, then. The others came to the same conclusion and climbed into the helicopter, though their expressions told him that none of them were happy about it.

This was the last time Rodney McKay actually wanted to go on a mission.

ATLANTIS
Stargate Operations – 2000hours

SGA-1 had missed its check-in.

That wasn't unusual, of course. It was quite often that off-world teams found themselves invited into some local custom that required their rapt attention and did not allow for slipping off to the gate to make a call. Nine times out of ten it was something totally benign that kept a team from making their check-in – and that was why the thirty minute protocol was in place, to prevent wasting resources on an accidently late check-in. Sometimes, however – that one time out of ten – it was something terrible that was keeping the team.

Colonel Samantha Carter had learned from her short time on Atlantis that it was usually SGA-1 that made up that 10%. Trouble seemed to follow Colonel Sheppard and his team; even a milk run could turn into a kidnap and ransom. That's why Sam knew there was something wrong, even before Chuck stepped up to her office door and told her they were late.

She had followed the thirty minute protocol regardless; there was still a chance that nothing was wrong, despite the churning in her gut telling her otherwise. There was probably a hint of guilt to go with that instinct as well – it had been her idea to send them to the completely unexplored planet based on the readings of a malfunctioning MALP; and it would be her fault if they never came back.

She couldn't shake that thought despite her best efforts; the notion taking a life of its own once the seed was planted. Those thirty minutes had been the longest in her life – and that was including the ten years on a flagship gate team she'd experienced. There was something heavier about the weight of command that made time, people – everything really, feel as if they had taken Newton's law of gravity a little too seriously.

The moment the time limit was up, Sam dropped the tablet PC she had been pretending to use for paperwork and made the trip across to the control room where Chuck was already waiting. "Has there been any word from Colonel Sheppard's team?"

"No ma'am," Chuck replied formally.

Sam knew he would have told her immediately had the answer been any different, the question was simply a formality. She nodded to herself, chewing her lip a little. There was a still a chance that nothing was wrong. It was a chance she wouldn't take. Her gut was telling her that she had waited too long already. "Dial the gate and establish a radio link."

"Yes ma'am," he supplied automatically as rolled his chair to the dialling console and began entering the address from memory. Down in the gate room the Stargate rumbled to life, the blue lights chasing each other around the ring as the chevrons locked. Chuck pressed the central button; the lights catching up to him and then

Nothing happened.

No kawoosh. No torrent of exotic particles. No wormhole.

"What happened?" Sam asked, though she had a feeling she already knew the answer.

"The gate didn't lock ma'am."

Sam closed her eyes and took a breath. "Try it again."

Without a word, Chuck did as he was told. Once again the lights chased their tails around the ring, and once again the Stargate failed to lock. The same thing happened on the third, fourth and fifth try as well. Sam turned to the nearest laptop to scan the data it had collected from the failed attempts, her gut churning with a despondent 'I told you so'. The gate had failed to establish a lock because there was no gate for it to lock with at the dialled address.

The Stargate on Solaris no longer existed.

Sam tried not to think of the few possible scenarios where a naquedah gate could be destroyed, instead focusing on solving the problem. If they couldn't gate to Solaris, then they would have to fly there. "Has the Apollo left yet?"

"Yes ma'am, it departed two hours ago."

"Call Colonel Ellis and recall them. Tell him he needs to head to Solaris."

SOUTH SOLARIS: DOMILITIS MAIN CITY
38 Hours 00 Minutes and counting
[2240hours ALT]

Ronon was going stir crazy.

He knew that that was the point, and the fact that it was working annoyed him greatly. After five hours of being trapped in a flying tin can the four of them had been separated and left to stew. Ronon had been wrestled into the small, white bricked, windowless box he now found himself in; earning himself a shiner in the process.

He was still cuffed – he wasn't sure if that was what was intended or if the soldiers had been too frightened to take the time to remove them. There was no furniture; just white brick as far as the eye could see (which wasn't far, given that the room was a two-by-two cell) and a reinforced metal door that wouldn't budge, no matter how many times Ronon tried to shoulder it open.

For a while he had paced. He was full of anger and tension; frustrated by their situation, and had needed to work it off. His shoulder was already turning a dark shade of purple from being used as a battering ram, and he suspected his right eye was a similar colour. When it became apparent that the small space was nowhere near big enough to effectively pace off the nervous energy however, he settled for leaning against the far wall, glaring at the door and waiting.

Whatever they had in store for him, he was ready.

It was three hours by his internal clock before the door eventually opened. Immediately he launched himself across the space, hammering his cuffed fists into the first soldier's face before kicking the second in the shins, and then throwing his knee under the man's chin. He was halfway out the door before the table's turned.

A bright bolt of…something…ploughed its way through every nerve in his body, sending sparks of light into his vision before it whited out. Ronon couldn't recall hitting the ground, nor the five minutes after that, the chemicals in his brain still trying to sort themselves out after the shock. That had been one helluva Taser.

When he had finally cleared his vision he found himself on a metal chair that had materialised from nowhere, his cuffs transferred to the spokes to keep him from escaping. He also found that he was no longer alone. The two soldiers he had got the drop on had been taken away, the door closed behind them, leaving only Ronon and the General. Calaren was studying him like a piece of meat, the smallest hints of a sadistic smile tugging at his severe features. "Impressive."

Ronon spat at him. The blob of spittle landed on the Calaren's lapel, and he brushed it off with a gloved hand. He then used the same hand to backhand Ronon across the face, burning his left cheek. Ronon just growled. If that was all the man had then this was going to be a doozey.

Calaren reared his arm back as if to strike again, but then seemed to think better of it. He retrieved a syringe full of a colourless liquid from a uniform pocket then held it up to the hanging light. Ronon eyed the vial warily – what was it? Some kind if truth serum? Or something more…creative? Calaren followed his gaze, the smile succeeding at completely twisting his face. Without a word, he plunged the needle practically bone deep into Ronon's arm, injecting its entire contents.

"We need information from you."

Ronon just about resisted the urge to roll his eyes, and settled for glaring instead. The empty syringe was dropped carelessly to the floor, the glass tinkling as it smashed. He was about to find out what was in it, a strange sensation already running up his arm as the liquid was pumped through his bloodstream. "This is pointless."

Calaren grinned. "Why? Do you think you are too tough to break?"

"No, we're just not hiding anything."

Sheppard answered, meeting Calaren's vindictive gaze with a stare of his own that promised payback. Calaren stepped back, quite a feat considering the size of the cell and his proximity to the wall, and studied him with that weird smile. John's arm still stung from the injection mere moments before, his mind already racing with the chemicals he had been warned of during his interrogation training. "Strangely, I do not believe you. We'll soon find out the truth though."

Calaren was waiting, John realised. No proper questions had been asked; just a few taunts and barbs being exchanged as whatever the mysterious liquid was made its way through his system. John wiggled his fingers when a sort of numbness suddenly spread along his right arm. The sensation spread quickly, working its way into every muscle and nerve, and then it abruptly changed into blinding pain. John tensed up automatically, gritting his teeth to keep from crying out. "What the hell have you done?"

His shoulder was the worst. The pain from the gunshot wound had dulled after several hours of just being there, but now it throbbed with an intensity a hundred times worse than it had when it had first happened. It felt as though it was on fire – though that was honestly an understatement. John had never felt anything like it – it didn't even compare to the Iratus bug clamping down on his neck four years ago, and that had been pain worse that he had ever experienced.

"I cannot say that I understand the science of it," Calaren answered after a moment of just watching John suffer. "But I have been told that it is a drug that amplifies the sensation of pain. It attacks the nervous system of the body, translating every chemical signal into pain. Given a high enough dose, it can cause the victim to die from shock; but given in increments, it serves as a useful torture device. An existing wound suddenly feels like a fresh injury; a simple poke suddenly feels like an excruciating stab…"

As if to prove a point, Calaren simply prodded the throbbing wound, and John was rewarded with a fresh wave of agony. This time he couldn't help but cry out, and biting his lip to stop a scream made things worse. He gripped the sides of the metal chair with white knuckles, running through every method he knew of pain management. None of them seemed to be helping him much. Everything just hurt, and it hurt worse than he had ever thought possible.

"Now then, tell me how you arrived on this planet."

"We came th-through the St-st-st-stargate."

Rodney stammered out between clenched teeth, his voice hissing with pain. It had been a pinch, a damn pinch that was it, and now he was singing like a canary. This was worse than the tiny cut it had taken for him to start talking to the Genii all those years ago when they had stormed the city, except that this pinch hurt a hell of a lot worse than that had. But then again, there really was nothing to gain from lying, all that Rodney would be telling them was what 98% of the Galaxy already knew – well, with a few added scientific things thrown in.

Calaren cocked his head to one side, examining Rodney like a side show exhibit. "What is this 'Stargate'?"

Rodney huffed, allowing his anger at the man's incompetence take over from the burning pain currently throbbing up his left arm. "The big metal ring in the middle of a giant crater on the other side of this godforsaken planet!"

Calaren nodded, surprisingly not taking offence at Rodney's tone – he had been half expecting another super-pinch for that one. The General paced behind Rodney's chair, completing a circle before standing before him again. There was another moment of just being stared at before Calaren must have decided that Rodney wasn't in enough pain as to guarantee truthfulness, and punched him hard in the stomach.

Maybe that was revenge after all, Rodney thought as he doubled over, close to regurgitating his breakfast. He felt as if he had been run though with a red hot poker that was then twisted a little, just for fun. He didn't scream – he wouldn't give Calaren the satisfaction – but he did groan loudly before clenching his teeth again. He didn't make the mistake of biting his tongue, logic had already warned him that that wasn't wise. After a minute that truly felt like an eternity, Rodney shoved himself upright again, suppressing another groan.

Calaren had waited, simply watching him as Rodney had managed to pull off the stoic act he'd seen Sheppard, Ronon and Teyla pull off a thousand times. Calaren leaned down again to meet Rodney's eyes. "How does the 'Stargate' work?"

Rodney actually smirked – seriously, he'd been spending way too much time with Sheppard. "I doubt you'll grasp the subtle complexities of such advanced technology, but as you asked. The Stargate creates a stable, artificial wormhole between itself and another Stargate, allowing near-instantaneous travel from the dialling gate to the destination gate, but not vice versa. When activated, a Stargate produces a violent burst of energy known as an unstable vortex. This is due to the large amount of energy needed to form a stable wormhole, while keeping one open is much less power-intensive. The vortex settles into the event horizon which travellers then step through, dematerializing them for transport through the wormhole, to be reassembled on the other side. You get all that?"

Calaren actually growled as he backhanded Rodney across the face for his insolent tone. If it wasn't for the near-concussive state the blow sent him into, Rodney might have laughed. His attention was grabbed by the pretty lights and colours currently dancing before his eyes, just about distracting him from the indescribable pain rattling around his skull.

The General then backed off as if he regretted the action, pacing the two-by-two cell in front of Rodney. He stopped once McKay's eyes had refocused on the here and now, his voice taking on a dangerous tone. "Can we build a new one?"

Rodney blinked, unsure if the concussive effects had messed with his hearing. He suspected he knew the answer before he asked the question, but found himself talking anyway. "Wh-why would you n-need a new one? What's wr-wrong with the one y-you've got?"

"The Stargate has been destroyed…"

"…a groundquake divided the earth and it was swallowed."

John let his head drop to his chest, trying to control the despair that had suddenly gripped him. Sure, without a DHD their chances of escape by gate had been thin, but it had been there. There had been a chance that he could get his team home; now…now there was nothing. In a day and a half's time they would be trapped on this planet as it fell apart around them. The guilt of letting his team down outweighed the pain that still threatened to steal his consciousness.

Calaren grabbed his chin and lifted his head back up. "Is there another way off this planet?"

"No."

The General sighed heavily, letting go of John and stepping back again. "Then you will suffer the same fate as the rest of us."

36 Hours 50 Minutes and counting
[2350hours ALT]

Teyla stared at the door of her own cell, cultivating patience as she waited for someone to come for her. She had heard the shouts from the other cells even through the white brick walls, every pained cry chipping away at her reserves of strength. It frustrated her to be so helpless and trapped when she knew the rest of her team were being tortured; but there was nothing she could do. She briefly closed her eyes to banish the images of their suffering that flittered across her mind's eye.

She opened them again when there came a quiet click from the cell door.

Her eyes strayed to her leg and the knife that was still strapped there, but she decided to keep that secret for now. Instead she presented herself as the dignified and patient leader she was, and stood casually by the far wall, waiting for the door to open.

Sana Dawn Talyn entered; nervousness and guilt warring for precedence on her face. She closed the door behind her and leaned against it, hands clasped in front of her. Teyla studied her warily, but did not read any malice in her behaviour. This was not her turn to be tortured then. Dawn took a readying breath "I am truly sorry for your treatment."

Teyla raised her eyebrows in disbelief, and Dawn averted her gaze. "My treatment has been nothing compared to the rest of my friends. Tell me, why am I to be spared?"

"It is the way of my people," Dawn replied with a trace of long suffering annoyance in her tone. "There is the ingrain belief that women are incapable of being useful beyond breeding purposes. I am one of the few to achieve the status of Sana, and I can tell you that it was not easy." She paused as if realising she had taken a tangent. "The General does not believe that a woman can provide him with the information he seeks, and so, you have been spared."

Teyla nodded slowly, part of her sympathising with the woman while the rest of her was far too angry to care. "Why are you here?"

"You told me that you came through the ring, I thought it was best if I were the one to tell you that it has been destroyed," Dawn said apologetically. "If that was your only method of travel, I am afraid to tell you that your fate has been sealed along with ours."

Teyla felt the last dregs of hope she had been clinging to being ripped from her. She had the overwhelming urge to hit something, but just about managed to refrain. She did however let the anger lace her tone as she curtly replied "And what is to become of us? Are we to spend our final days in captivity serving as science experiments for your Sanas?"

"Nu'halla, I hope not…"

The rest of Dawn's words were stolen by a loud rumble that thrummed throughout them and the building. The ground shook violently beneath them, throwing both of them to the floor where Teyla instinctively grabbed Dawn and they huddled together protectively. The door rattled in its frame as dust and debris were dislodged from the ceiling and rained down upon them. The thuds and crashes of the building collapsing echoed all around them. Teyla was just about able to be heard over the din. "What is this? Another tremor?"

Suddenly the ground disappeared from beneath them, revealing that the cell had actually been on the first storey, though they were now dropped to the ground floor. Teyla and Dawn survived the fall with minimal injury, taking cover in a door frame as the rest of the building came down around them. Dawn stared at the sky that had become visible through an impromptu skylight. What should have been an oppressively hot, clear, sunny day was now a black dust cloud of smoke.

"This is no tremor. It's Mt. Optura."

Oh no! The world is ending! The building is collapsing! A volcano is erupting! The Stargate is gone! Will the Apollo make it in time, or will our heroes be trapped on Solaris until the very end? (Will they even get out of the building alive…?)

Who knows! Let me know what you think, and I might just tell you next chap! :P