Rogue Element7
Moira sat. Exhausted. Finished the last of her fruit, water. Wiped her mouth and stared round the forest, the glen. A sea of green, thick foliage surrounded her. Shafts of sunlight striped the grasses and moss. The air was warm, humid. The sound of waterfalls was ever present, a constant background noise that she could tune out like white noise.
She watched Sheppard circling. Searching. Seemingly indefatigable as he lifted his binoculars to scan. He stood stock still, listening. Sunlight dappled his black, messy clothes. Spilled upon his dark hair and unkempt beard. He appeared darker. More dangerous. Even sexier with his huskier voice and swagger. Moira banished the thought, knew it was the enzyme in her system. At least she told herself it was.
Sheppard shoved the binoculars into his TAC vest. Turned and strode to her. "Is that the last?" he asked, gaze roving over her. Messy, dirty clothes now dry, no longer clinging to her curves. Messy ponytail falling behind her shoulders. Accessible. If only he could find the time.
"What? Oh..." She looked at the empty leaves. "Yes. But we can always find more fruit."
"What about the moss? Can we–"
"No! No!" She met his gaze, horrified. Could only imagine the affect it would have on him, considering the affect it had had on her John. The rush of adrenaline even more intense. Causing fury. Lust. "Highly toxic, it will make you violently sick."
"Oh." He glanced round, squatted in front of her to look her directly in the eyes. "We can't keep on like this, Moira. Try as we might we're being herded farther and farther away from the ship and from the 'Gate. I want you to stay here, well, over there," he pointed, "in that copse. Hidden. I'm tired of being hunted. Time to become the hunter. I'll take out a few of them. Four or five if I'm lucky." He licked his lips. "Even up the odds a bit. A very little bit. I hate to use the ammo but we've got no choice." He stood.
Moira stood, caught his arm. "Colonel! Be, be careful. Your Atlantis and its survivors need you. Don't do anything reckless."
He smiled. "I won't. But if I fall...run. Run as fast as you can, Moira. Because they will give no quarter."
"You can't fall, colonel. I need you to come back to me. Atlantis needs you." She hesitated. "John...be, be careful. Please." She kissed him. A long, startling kiss. To instill in him the necessity of returning to her. To taste the rough, musky difference compared to his alternate.
He stepped back, eying her. Surprised. Pleased. Suspicious. "Don't come out until you see me." Then he was gone, racing into the trees.
Moira moved to the copse of bushes. Huddled, waiting. She all but buried herself in the leaves and ferns. Blending quite well in her stained white and brown clothes. She heard gunfire. Crouched, biting her lower lip, hoping the colonel knew what he was doing. Would return safely. Silence. Then more gunfire, a rapid, repeating noise. Weird shrieks rent the air. She recognized the sound as partly Wraith, partly human. She waited. Waited.
Sheppard ran. Circled through the trees with silent, graceful efficiency. Froze. Waited. Saw two more mutants searching. Saw the lone third. Smiled grimly. Aimed. Fired repeatedly until the creature fell, shrieking as it died. The sound echoed among the trees, an eerie, lonely sound. He ran again, in the opposite direction, circling down. Ducked as a laser singed a tree near him.
He swerved, dipped back, abruptly hid in the dense foliage. Mutants passed. Hissing. Talking in a strange, garbled language. Shuffling footsteps. They seemed disorganized. Sheppard waited. Wondered where the hell Ford was. He stood. Moved stealthily again. Stalking the stalkers. He checked his ammunition, frowned.
John raised his hand, staring round. Halting all teams. He glanced at the abandoned hybrid ship. Noted the damage to one drive pod. The odd angle of its landing. "Reynolds, two men on the 'Gate. No one gets through. Radio silence unless necessary. Lorne, flank left. Josephes, Peterson, with me flank right. Ronon, take point on the center. Assume at least ten or twenty hostiles. Anyone spotting Moira or the colonel radio me. Do not engage. Let's go."
The marines headed out, armed to the teeth for their grim assignment.
John exchanged a glance with Ronon, shook his head at his friend's concern. Began to lead, a slight limp betraying his injuries.
More gunfire. Moira hugged herself, waiting. Wishing she had a gun. She felt around and found a large stick. She held it, felt better as absurd as it was against the guns, the blasters, the mutant creatures. Silence. She moved slightly, but froze. Stared at the half-Wraith, half human stalking into the clearing. Its blue scaly skin covered half of its face. Hands ended in claws. Yellow eyes gleamed. It looked round, head tilting as it sniffed the warm air.
Moira held her breath as it looked right at her, but it moved to the right. Sounds. Something was rushing through the brush. Through the trees, right towards the copse where she was hiding. She braced herself, uncertain. Closer. Closer. Breaking through the leaves a mutated hand reached for her. Moira swung the stick, thwacking the arm but the mutant plunged into the copse.
Moira cried out in alarm, sped out of the copse. She ran into the clearing. Flushed out of hiding she whirled as the mutant emerged from the copse, shrieking. Jumping towards her. Moira swung the stick but was knocked sideways. She fell, clutching the stick. She jabbed it upwards as the mutant pounced upon her. The stick rammed up through its gut with the force of its downward attack. Moira screamed as it slid down, down on the stick. Blood spurted. Guts spilled. She freed the stick and rolled wildly out of the way as it fell to the ground. Viscera spreading in a crimson, brownish heap on the grass.
"Moira!"
She scrambled to her feet, wiping her bloody hands on her pants as Sheppard ran towards her. Followed by a mutant leaping out of the trees with incredible speed. "John!" she warned.
He spun, fired, fired until the mutant collapsed. Fell silent.
Sheppard closed the distance between them, glanced at the impaled creature. "Good work! Come on!" He grabbed her hand, led her into a run to the left.
"How many?" she asked, trying to keep up with his long strides.
"I got five. But there's at least fifteen or more, damn it! I'm almost out of ammo!"
"Colonel!" She yanked him back as a mutant appeared in front of them, shrieking. Sheppard fired, fired. It fell, twitching.
"Shit! Out!" He dropped the gun, whirled, back to back with Moira as another emerged. Another. He pulled his knife, handed a second one to her. "Stay like this. We're hand to hand now. Moira...looks like this is it. For both of us."
Moira kept her back to his, hefted the knife. Watched yet another creature emerge. Circling them, wary. Yellow eyes glinting. "I'm sorry, colonel."
"Well, at least we had sex," he quipped. He turned with her to see yet another emerge.
"What are they waiting for?" she asked. Almost wishing it was over.
"The right moment."
John raised his arm. Halting the men. "Gunfire." He listened. "P90. It must be the colonel. Let's go! Double-time!" They broke into a run across the plain, up the cliffs. Towards the forest. Following the sound of guns and shrieking.
He ignored the pain lacing his side, his leg. Gritted his teeth as his head began a dull ache in his temples. Kept his mind focused on his objective. Rescuing Moira. It was the only thing that mattered. He pushed through the trees, glancing at his men to see them doing the same. Expressions ranging from caution to nervousness to determination.
Ronon raced ahead of all of them, his graceful leaps belying his large frame as he slid easily through the cloying foliage like a cat. Gun at the ready he charged, almost eager to reach the creatures and eliminate them.
Moira turned with the colonel again. Kept her back pressed to his. Held the knife tightly. Ten mutants surrounded them. "There are too many."
"I know," Sheppard agreed. "Moira, when I break free you run."
"No. I won't leave you, colonel."
"Moira! We only have one shot at this! Do as I say!"
"No," she refused, gulped as the mutants moved closer, in unison. "Colonel...if...if we don't make it...John..."
"I know," he said gruffly. "Get ready, then. Go for the jugular, or the gut."
"Okay."
Closer. Closer. Then the creatures rushed.
"Sir! One hostile down!" Evan reported, eying the mutated corpse. "Shot. P90!"
"Sir! Here's another!" Aaron grimaced at the body.
John nodded. "Let's go! He's taking them down but there are too many!" They ran through the trees. "Incoming! Five o'clock!" He fired his weapon as a group of creatures leapt out of the bushes, shrieking. "Form up ranks! Lorne, create secondary line now!"
Sheppard spun, slashing out with his knife, disemboweling one mutant as he launched a vicious kick to another. Moira stabbed, sliced one across the throat but something brutally slammed into her stomach. She fell to her knees as Sheppard whirled, slicing another across the throat until he staggered to his knees. Gunfire split the air. Bullets pinged around them.
"Down! Get down!" a voice shouted over the cacophony.
Sheppard dove, crashed into Moira and covered her with his body as mutants shrieked, falling. Attacking, a blur of motion around him. Automatic weapon fire pivoted around them. Then laser blasts exploding the limbs of trees. Leaves burst into fiery clouds swirling in the air. Then silence.
Mutants fell, got up, fell again as John and the men formed up tight back to back to back. Firing repeatedly. "Sir! Lawrence down! More hostiles but on the move away from us!" Evan shouted.
"Away?" John stood as the guns ceased. Bodies lay strewn on the grass. Twitching. Until he paused by each one, stilling them with a single blast from his big gun. Ripping their bodies wide open or exploding their heads. John heard more gunfire in the distance. "Reynolds?"
"We're clear, sir. Not us!"
"So are we! Head for the ordnance! Now!" John commanded. "Where the hell is Ronon?"
Sheppard moved slightly. "Stay down," he whispered into Moira's ear. He slowly raised his head. Sat. Grimacing. He stared. Raised his hands in the air. "Ford."
Moira found her breath again, sat and winced at the pain in her side. She stared. "Ford?"
Aiden walked to them, slamming a new clip into his gun. "I should kill you now, Sheppard. Better yet I should kill her."
Sheppard glowered, moving in front of Moira. "Go ahead, lieutenant. Then those things can kill you."
Aiden frowned. Raised his gun.
"When did you lose control of them?" Moira asked. "When did they start regressing?"
Aiden eyed her. "A day ago. Where the hell are my men, Sheppard?"
"Gone."
"Gone?"
"I requisitioned them."
"You what? You...then why the hell are you still here?"
"Transport problems." Sheppard slowly moved to his feet. Glancing past Aiden as a weird shrieking filled the air. "We've got company coming, lieutenant, so either kill us or help us avoid them. Your choice."
"It's worse than that, colonel. There's something else here. Some kind of mutated human but primitive."
"What?" Moira stood, caught Sheppard's arm for support. "The cavemen? Your former recruits hyped on the enzyme!"
"Shut up!" Aiden turned. Movement. Shrieks.
"They're coming, lieutenant, so make a decision now," Sheppard advised. He glanced to the knife protruding from a dead creature. Back to Aiden.
"It's even worse than that, colonel. Atlantis teams are here. Killing everything in sight. I can't let them catch me."
"Me either, so it seems we have another common goal. So?"
"John," Moira whispered, hoping. A sense of longing so powerful she nearly fell.
Aiden scowled. Withdrew a gun from his coat and tossed it to Sheppard. The colonel caught it, clicked off the safety. A tense moment passed.
"Let's go. That way," Sheppard pointed. "You take point."
Aiden hesitated. "How do I know you won't shoot me in the back?"
Sheppard smiled. "You don't."
"And her? She's our trump card."
"I know. Now move!" Aiden ran ahead into the trees. "Moira, go!" She hesitated, uncertain, but ran after Aiden. Sheppard followed on her heels, whirled to fire at the creatures suddenly running after them. He turned and dashed after his companions. "Go! Go!"
"Son of a bitch." John cautiously peered over the bushes. Stared at the mutated humans ambling into the clearing. The bony protrusions on the faces, their bodies. Brow ridges more pronounced. Grunting and gesturing.
"Sir?" Evan knelt beside him.
"Recognize our old friends, major?"
"Yes, sir. Our luck just went from bad to worse."
"We're outnumbered, but not outgunned," Ronon remarked, joining them. "I circled round and encountered them heading straight for our position."
"Sir, did the colonel do all that?" Evan pointed to the bodies of the Wraith mutants strewn along the grass and moss.
"I don't know. Maybe."
"Where is he heading?"
"Good question." John thought, scanning the terrain. "That way. The higher ground. More defensible. He'll look for a secure location, with only one ingress point. Better to pick them off one by one."
"Orders, sir?" Jason asked.
John considered. "We'll flank them. Pincer movement. If we can drive these two groups together they will probably fight one another. We can then skirt round them and get to Moira."
"Are you sure she's still with him?" Ronon asked.
"Yes," John answered. "Where the hell is Ford?" he wondered. "Let's go." He gestured, motioned the men into position. They began their pursuit.