It's Not Easy being an Intergalactic Space Explorer

Chapter 5

Score One for the Good Guys…Maybe?

Sheppard was failing quickly. The doctor was determined to keep him alive – he had to. He had already collected an incredible amount of information from 'Christopher,' but the Lantean still had value, very unique value. Sheppard had no idea what they'd done to him – and why – during the six hours he had been comatose. The doctor decided to order the immediate transfer of all his biological samples and data to the larger lab on Xethos. They weren't safe being kept anywhere near John. He couldn't let him interfere with his future plans.

If a disembodied consciousness was capable of smiling, then John was grinning from ear to ear. As his body became increasingly ill, Sheppard could sense the mounting fury of the symbiote. It was determined not to lose control over him. It had had a taste of knowledge, a glimpse of life incredibly beyond the existence of the more primitive creatures its kind had relied upon before. John dug deeper into the new abilities that he had found in his mind, courtesy of the trail of bread crumbs the Azeron had left for him. The symbiote was now starting to gather its strength and fight back – mentally and physically. John had to expel it, but not commit suicide in the process.

Sheppard's body was quickly stripped of its clothing and prepped for immediate surgery. His temperature was climbing fast as his immune system roared into overdrive. The symbiote was bombarding the human with toxins as it tried to reclaim its dominance, but it was only making John's systems fail even more. When 'Christopher' briefly regained consciousness on the operating table, 'he' grabbed the doctor's arm and cried out, "Do not remove me from this body! I refuse to give it up!" How could it have been so stupid? The human had found a way to defeat it. The symbiote, in its arrogant posturing, had been blind to the possibility that he could ever win. It had not detected that John, even with his consciousness imprisoned, had found a way to get free.

As the doctor started to administer anesthesia to John's body, the symbiote unknowingly made one last, and fatal, comment. "Do not do this! Do not cheat me of my chance to use his knowledge and power. Your kind cannot be in sole possession of it!" The doctor was startled. The symbiote apparently was not a docile and loyal resource after all. He eagerly reached for his instruments and prepared to incise Sheppard's abdomen…..

oooooooooooooooooooooOOOOOOO OOOOOOOOoooooooooooooooooooo oo

Several hours later, John – and only John – started to wake up inside Sheppard's body. The symbiote was gone, extricated with difficulty, the tendrils with which it had infiltrated the human writhing angrily as it tried to remain attached. The doctor had hated removing it, despite learning that the organism might very well have betrayed him later on. His fellow cultists were urging him to implant another symbiote once Sheppard was strong enough, but the doctor refused; it was too risky. The others also suggested that he summon their masters and let them 'do things their way.' But the doctor refused again. He wanted all of the credit for capturing Sheppard and peeling away his every secret. The doctor would not turn John over to Wraith, or share what he had learned, until he was good and ready.

John was tightly restrained to his bed. No surprise there! He was feverish and weak, and felt like crap, but he would recover. At least he was alive and in control of his own mind and body. The next steps would be to destroy the information the creature stole before it could be passed onto the Wraith – assuming it hadn't been already – and find a way to escape. He knew the doctor would go at him again, but this time with old-fashioned torture.

Noticing his prisoner was stirring, the doctor approached Sheppard's bed. Despite how sick he looked, he knew the younger man was quietly savoring his victory. "Guess things didn't go as planned, huh?" John quipped, unable to resist the chance to gloat.

"Maybe, Colonel," the doctor retorted, "but I'm not done with you yet. Once you're feeling better, we will start again."

"You sound pretty confident, Doc. You do know that my people have probably got half the galaxy out looking for me now? Oh, maybe I'm not that important, but trying to get who's been behind all of these attacks…..now that's important. If the people of Sil or any of the other worlds you've terrorized ever get their hands on you guys, well, maybe you'd like to change sides now, before it's too late?"

"Given what we took from you – and so easily, Sheppard – a few minor bombings will be nothing compared to the destruction our masters will wreak upon this galaxy."

John knew the terrible degree to which he had been compromised. The doctor must have transmitted everything to the Wraith by now. Were they already planning an attack on Atlantis…or Earth?

Sheppard decided to keep the doctor talking. His ego seemed inflated enough that he might give something away. "Are you sure you got enough info out of my brain, Doc? Maybe you missed something? Or maybe 'Christopher' held a few things back, or lied to you?"

The doctor smiled smugly. "When our Masters come here and see the enormity of what I have for them, I will receive a great reward."

John jumped on his slip-up. "You haven't told them yet? You've captured the great John Sheppard and you're keeping that a secret from the Wraith?"

The doctor flinched a bit; Sheppard had smartly maneuvered him into saying more than he wished. He attempted to cover his error. "Your capture is just one of several recent victories for my people that I will soon reveal to the Wraith. I merely wish to…make the best possible impression when I do."

"Oh, you just want to show off?"

The doctor smiled; he wouldn't go after Sheppard's bait anymore. "Whatever you call it, Colonel, it still means that we have won."

A few days later…

It was time to make his move. Although he still was feverish, and his abdomen ached from the surgery, Sheppard had to get out of there. He had a plan, made possible, as so often happened, by his captors' mistakes. Feeling complete superiority over their sick-and-tied-to-a-bed prisoner, the guards had been careless. By careful eavesdropping, John had managed to learn that 1) he was on the 3rd floor of a three-story building; 2) the doctor's office and lab were also on the third floor; 3) there were guard quarters on the first floor, and cells on the second; and 4) there was a village nearby. John hadn't figured out where they kept their weapons, but he knew it wasn't on his floor He had kept track of shift changes and the number of guards per shift. He did not, though – and this was a big problem – have a sense of the total number of people in the building. The same 6 men took turns guarding him, but that didn't mean there wasn't anyone else.

He'd have to try and get away in the daylight; it was risky, but he had no idea where he, or the Stargate, was. Maybe he'd run across a villager who would help him. Although, if this planet was home to Wraith worshippers, everyone might be loyal to them. How could he escape? They never let him out of bed, except for the bathroom. He didn't think they'd fall for the old "I'm sick, something's wrong, my appendix is about to burst, I need help" ploy. That only worked on TV. Unless…..

A guard on each side of John stayed close as he made his way to the bathroom. They were the only ones on the floor; the doctor had gone downstairs for a meal. All of a sudden, Sheppard clutched at his stomach and start moaning "I'm going to throw up, arrggghhh, get me the bucket!" One of the guards grabbed the bucket that John always threw up in, while the other guard quickly jumped out of the way: John had already ruined his boots twice before. With all the drugs and toxins in him, Sheppard had been vomiting a lot after the operation. They always kept the large metal bucket nearby just in case. They gave it to John who…

…swung it at the unsuspecting guard and smashed him in the head. The other man realized a moment too late what was happening, and got clobbered before he could draw his stunner. With both guards down, John took their weapons, crept towards the door of his room and eased it open. It exited out into a long hallway. Over the past few days, John had caught glimpses, when the door was ajar, of one man on duty covering the stairs. John thanked his lucky stars that Wraith stunners were relatively quiet as he took out that guard and dragged his body out of sight. He then moved on to the doctor's office on the hunch that everything 'Christopher' had told him was only kept there, securely under the doctor's control. John found what looked like a data device, similar to what he'd seen on other missions. He had to destroy it. He took one of the stunners, rigged its power source to overload, and then attached it to the Wraith data storage unit. He had three, maybe four minutes before it exploded. With another stunner in his hand, Sheppard slowly made his way downstairs. How many men were on this floor? Where the hell did they keep their weapons? He could hold them off with his stunner for awhile but he'd need something more….Unnhhh! Sheppard cried out as a powerful electric shock suddenly coursed through his body. What the f….?! As John tried to grab onto the railing, a second shock hit him. He collapsed and fell, tumbling down a flight of steps before landing hard at the bottom of the staircase.

The doctor went over to him, with something no larger than a cigarette lighter in his hand. He knelt down next to Sheppard and checked him out. He'd torn open some of the stitches on his incision, but otherwise hadn't hurt himself too badly. Sheppard lay unconscious, crumpled in a heap. He was twitching slightly and bleeding from a gash on his forehead. "The electrodes, John," the doctor tsked tsked, grasping the remote control unit which operated them. "You forgot about the electrodes. Oh, wait a minute, you didn't know I had implanted them, did you. That's too bad – this was a good try." The doctor then motioned to his men. "Take him back upstairs, and try to keep an eye on him this time, please? Oh, and he's not getting out of bed again. For anything. Unless you stun him. Or drug him. Or, maybe do both….I do not w…."

It was then that the stunner exploded.

TBC…..No worries, poor John will get some help soon! Please read and review. Thanks!