Chapter 7

"Sheppard!" hissed a voice in his ear, "You mussst get up!"

Sheppard opened his eyes blearily. Chitter was standing by his bed, a frantic look on her face.

"What's the problem?" he asked sleepily, getting out of bed.

"The other'sss have discovered Dr Keller's resistance force," the Has'parian told him as he got dressed, "she and othersss on her staff had been ssstockpiling weaponsss and supliess."

Sheppard swore under his breath as he pulled on his jacket. Jennifer had become so secretive since the takeover. He would never have believed she would attempt a take-over, but the stockpile weapons probably meant that she had intended some form of resistance. The Has'parians had changed them, made them harder, colder.

"If we wish to escape," Chitter continued, "our besst hope would be to do sso during her execution."

John wondered what it now said about him that he didn't care that Jennifer Keller was going to be put to death for trying to help people. All that her death entailed to him now was the possibility for his own liberation.

He wasn't sure if he liked the new John Sheppard.

Grabbing a bag he kept packed at all times, John followed Chitter into the corridor. The city was deserted. The curfew meant that all the Lantians had to be in their quarters unless they had express permission from the Alpha to be elsewhere. John and Chitter needed to make it to the Jumper bay, where they had been secretly loading one of the jumpers with supplies, weapons and information gathered from the Has'parians.

"What time's the ceremony?" Sheppard whispered to Chitter as they skulked through the deserted corridors.

"Ssoon." she replied, "All Hass'parinass are to attend and the procedure will be recorded sso it can be sshown to the rest of your people ass a warning."

They continued to move along in silence, heading steadily towards the Jumper bay. They were almost free.

"Shit!" hissed Sheppard. Two Has'parians were blocking their way to the Jumper bay and were heading straight towards them. Grabbing Chitter, he side-stepped into one of the Atlantis teleporters, hitting a destination at random. Chitter lived up to her name as they stepped out of the transporter.

"Don't ever, ever do that again!" she hissed, pulling her arm out of his grasp.

Sheppard merely shrugged and tried to get his bearings. They were in one of the lower levels, off-limits to the Lantians. Leading the way down the corridor, he headed towards the stairs.

"Stop!" Chitter exclaimed suddenly, dragging Sheppard back around a corner, "Two more. Up ahead."

Sheppard snuck a look. Indeed, there were two Has'parians, guarding the door to one of Atlantis' brigs.

"That where Keller is?"

Chitter shook her head. "No, she and her colleaguess are awaiting death in the upper-levels. I do not know who requires such a guard down here."

Sheppard smiled grimly as he pulled a grenade from his flak-jacket. "Let's find out, shall we?"

The resulting explosion left Sheppard's ears ringing. He rotated his jaw in order to clear his ears, as he moved down the now ruined corridor.

"What happened to escaping unnoticed?!" trilled Chitter indignantly, but Sheppard wasn't listening. Forcing his way through the wreckage of the doorway what he saw turned his stomach.

The brig had been transformed into a torture chamber. There was a rack near the wall filled with brutal looking tools of punishment and a bank of computers on the opposite wall. What freaked Sheppard out the most however, was the broken figure lying on the floor of the cell.

"No," he said to himself, "that's impossible." He hurried over to the prone form and crouched down next to it. Chitter entered the room cautiously, her eyes widening in horror at the sight.

"Give me a hand here, Chitter," Sheppard grunted as he attempted to raise the figure from its position on the floor. A feathered hand lightly touched his shoulder.

"There isss nothing either of usss can do for him," Chitter said delicately, "Hisss injuresss from the…interrogationsss are too server, he isss near death."

"You don't get it do you?" Sheppard snapped at her, "I saw him stick a dagger in his own chest. I saw him die! So how the hell is he still around to die all over again?!"

Chitter looked between John and the broken figure of Todd and shook her head. "I no not. But what can we do for him here?"

Sheppard looked at the wall for a minute. "We're going to need a change of plan."

***

Chitter waited anxiously in the jumper with all their supplies. John was determined not to leave the dying wraith in the cell, not until he had got some answers. Chitter didn't know what his questions even were, though she suspected it had something to do with the creatures miraculous recovery from dead to dying.

She looked over at wraith. He had barely stirred from when they had manhandled him out of the cell, into the transporter, through the corridors and into the jumper bay. Or rather, she had dragged him there. Sheppard decided that the best way to avoid their capture was for one of them to go and cause a distraction. She hoped that he returned soon, there was no way she would be able to pilot this ship if he failed to return.

A figure appeared in the hatch way. Chitter shrieked and pointed the nine mil pistol she had been given at the shape, her hand shaking.

"Knock it off, Chitter," chastised Sheppard, "Your worse than Rodney."

Chitter slumped weakly and offered him an apologetic smile. He pushed past her and into the front half of the jumper and sat at the controls. The ship woke up at his touch and the rear hatch closed.

"Sit tight," he advised, "we're probably gonna get shot at. Make sure Todd's secure."

Chitter followed his orders before seating herself into the co-pilot seat. AS the ship descended into the gate-room, Chitter could hear the defiant curses and screams of her sisterhood. Sheppard ignored them and hit buttons on the console between them. The gate whooshed into life and the jumper, with its precious cargo, escaped into the event horizon.

***

Sheppard made several jumps before he seemed satisfied that they were not followed. When he was he left his seat to examine their wraith passenger. Chitter looked too, only because she had never seen a wraith before. This one looked in bad shape. There were four thin scars running across its face, marring the star-like tattoo over its left eye. The stains of dried dark blood on its clothes showed were it had suffered physical torture at the hands of her sisterhood. Its matted hair could have been white, but dark blood had stained that as well. Sheppard raised its right hand and Chitter saw numerous cuts and puncture wounds covering the hand.

Sheppard looked at the wraith with a stony detachment. She had seen that look on his face before, when he had returned for a "selection" or when one of his people were executed as traitors. It was a look of a man that knew what had to be done.

Almost too late, she realised what he was planning to do.

"No!" she hissed, grabbing his arm, "What you plan to do isss suicide!"

Sheppard merely looked at her, a snarl curling his lip. "There's a lot you don't know about humans. Number one, we don't give up on people." He looked back at the wraith, "This guy saved my ass a couple of times since I first met him. Though I hate to admit it, we needed him a damn sight more than he needed us for the most part. The least I can do is give the bastard back his life."

Before Chitter could say another word, Sheppard placed Todd's feeding hand against his chest. The screams followed a moment later.

I hope I have briefly satisfied all those that were indignat of my past treatment of Todd. I'm not willing to let him go just yet....

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