Talks with Katy

by Thoseeyesoh

Alone in space and wounded. Heat and oxygen in low supply, Sheppard must try and hang on long enough until the Daedalus comes to his rescue. Only problem is he has someone else to save, and he cannot get the door open to help her. All he can do is keep talking to her. One shot I found in my files, slightly changed it, and re-released

Talks with Katy

SGA SGA SGA

"I…I…haven't much air left…I'm not sure what's happening. She… you must save ...her Teyla. I'm...so confused…" Sheppard's breathing was off. "Cold...slee..."

"John...You must hang in there, okay? Do you hear me?" Teyla panted; out of breath herself for different reasons.

"He is muddled." Ronon said.

"John?"

The silence was palpable as the three friends waited on Sheppard answering. Suddenly the groans that the Daedalus made all day and every day sounded extra loud as they waited on him answering Teyla back.

Then: 'Please, Teyla…where are you? … Don't let her die…'

'Who, John?' She asked again, throwing her body forward against the nearest work station; and ever so acutely aware of how laboured his voice sounded compared to a little while ago when they thought they were getting nearer to the space craft he was floating in.

'John…JOHN!' She continued to cry.

Her frantic looks of worry and concern were mirrored by Rodney and Ronon; with the latter putting his arm around her for support.

Colonel Caldwell approached the three friends just as Teyla was about to make her way to his chair on the bridge of the Daedalus to demand they upped their scans somehow for signs of his small craft.

"We've got him." The Colonel looked serious as he suddenly put his hands up to slow them down and they stopped walking.

"How far out?" Rodney wasted no time.

"We are about fifteen minutes away. He managed to get himself lost far away from the planet indeed, it's…"

"It's going to be too late, isn't it?" Rodney dived in.

Caldwell stood up with his hands on his hips and pursed his lips. He took too long to answer. "It was too late half an hour ago. I'm sorry."

"No, no…What are you talking about? He was talking to me, just a couple of minutes ago."

Rodney stepped towards Teyla and in front of Caldwell. He knew what he was about to say next and he wanted to be the one to tell Teyla and Ronon direct; he had already figured it out for himself.

"We are receiving his communications delayed, Teyla."

Teyla looked frantic. "Rodney, you were there when I was talking to him!"

"Teyla, I am sorry. But that was just him broadcasting out in the hope you would hear him. He never exactly answered you ...it was just coincidence."

Ronon roared and stomped off after Caldwell, who thought to leave them to deal with the bad news; besides he just wanted to check the report himself; followed by Rodney, who gave Teyla a sad look. Finally, Teyla turned and looked warily towards the large screen of empty black and willed the small craft to appear intact.

SGA SGA SGA

Earlier …..

"Are you awake?"

"Uurgghh…"

"John. I need to know you are conscious and aware."

"Ye…um. Here…"

"Good. I am relieved. The craft cannot fly ever since the electronic navigational commands came off-line. John, please. Are you in a position to help? I have been unable to regain control. The ship is damaged too much."

John Sheppard attempted to roll his body from its tightly rolled up location on a padded leather bench seat, to an upright one; conducive of one who was almost conscious.

"What's happening? Whoa…I still can't see, dammit!" Memories soared back unabridged.

"I am sorry for you John, but you told me that the flash burns from the weapon fire near you would only have taken your sight temporarily. Please be assured of that."

Sheppard shook his head and winced at the dizzying sensation it caused and he placed his hand out to steady himself.

Sheppard did remember with a groan. "Well, I hope that's the case, anyway. Have you managed to override the command to open the bulkhead door from the cockpit side yet so I can get up front?"

"No, I cannot. We took extensive damage and have lost a lot of commands. It is all I can do to keep several unimportant lesser functions on stand-by so I can keep the inertial dampeners and life support on your side online - even then I can only give you the minimum. You must try again to place your hand on the pad."

"Look, Katy. I am unfamiliar with your craft. I can only use my gene to influence the ancient side of the craft by touch and thought – and that doesn't seem to be working. I don't even know where everything is here. I can't see a damn thing remember!"

Sheppard shivered; he was so cold. After sucking in his breath continually for a couple of seconds, he allowed his aching head to dip towards his chest. Unseen, he could allow himself to act dejected, but he was not alone; Katy, on the other side of the bulkhead door, might be watching him on a monitor, so he mentally told himself to buck up and slowly inched his battered body to the ship's manual functions on his side of the small craft and put out his hands to feel his way over to the smooth panel that allowed some communication with the battered craft, as directed by Katy's reassuring voice.

Earlier, he had woken up drifting in the atmosphere in a space craft he had never even set foot in. It was drifting away from the planet Eutice; a planet he and his team had not long visited, and that was being attacked from all levels by a particularly violent band of travellers' that were taking everything they could from their new friends. Somebody called Katy was in the front cockpit section. She had quickly advised him that she was working hard to bring the craft to within minimal optimal working condition again; even though it had been hit by too many blasts from the ground before someone. He hoped Lorne and his men had blown up those responsible for it.

Sheppard grimaced with a recent memory. He had made particularly good friends with one of the locals; a fellow pilot named Tren. Sheppard had been on his way with Tren to have a first flight in his small craft when the fighting began. Tren, had been eager to show Sheppard just how fast she could go in low orbit and had been very excited to impress him. Rodney had expressed an interest to see it too, as they had heard the ancient craft was partially constructed from redundant…to them anyway…ancient technology and their own added designs, making it a mongrel mix of technologies. They were all eager to see if they could bring to life the ancient technology; instead of it being used for show. The small craft could not maintain a deep reach of travel; it had limits, but they were hoping that Rodney and his team could help them broaden the extent in which they could travel further and for longer.

Rodney had been taken down from behind suddenly as they walked and Sheppard had turned to help him, only to be tackled himself and dragged down the path towards his attacker's own ship in the aim of kidnapping him it seemed.

Sheppard watched as Tren came running towards him to help, and throughout agonising punches to just about everywhere in his body, he managed to catch a glimpse of Ronon dragging Rodney up from the ground and together they tried to tackle some more of the attackers who were intent on helping in his kidnap.

Sheppard slid his hand along the cool surfaces of the ship and felt like he was walking in glue. He curled his fingers onto the palm of his hand several times to get some life into the deadened digits. "Any chance you could warm this baby up slightly?"

"I cannot. Heating has to be at a bare minimum to allow for other necessary functions."

Sheppard swayed slightly but regained his footing and lurched unsteadily towards where he thought the palm shaped plastic protrusion was; according to Katy. He wanted so much for his ATA gene to activate it. He had found it by accident the first time he had stood up and had surprised himself and Katy that it would obey some of his commands.

It was sluggish but Sheppard felt a slightly warmer feeling in the palm of his hand once he touched it. "Ok. There is something there. I'm here. Katy, what do you need?"

"Can you send me the co-ordinates of where we are now?"

Sheppard concentrated; his head throbbing and his eyes in pain still from the small explosion.

"I have it, John. Thank you. I will try and correct our position and turn the craft around to make its way back to Eutice. I am glad you are more aware now to help."

"Me too. You know, you do sound very calm for some-one who is alone in the cockpit."

Sheppard thought Katy was taking too long to answer; but seconds later: "It is my wish to keep you alive and return you to your friends. I will concentrate on that, but it looks like I cannot turn it around."

Sheppard tried not to lose his connection with the small craft, but he did smirk at the way the woman talked to him. His smirk soon vanished, though, as memory returned. "I am sorry that Tren died, Katy."

"He was a good Pilot. He will be missed."

"Can I do anything else?

"No. Just keep your hand in place for now whilst I run some diagnostics tests."

Sheppard thought that he might not be able to do that simple thing for long as he was already swaying, and a rising nausea threatened his ability to stay upright.

"Was I out for long?"

"Two hours and twenty-three minutes to be exact. I was starting to worry."

"Um, sorry about that. I must have a concussion. Tell me how you are?" Sheppard placed his forehead on the cool wall where the speaker was that allowed him to hear her voice from the other side of the door. He worried she was cold and injured too, although she repeatedly said she did not feel these things.

"I am functioning as best I can, given the circumstances, John. Thank you for asking."

Sheppard was in pain and longed for some relief; even Carson and a bed in the infirmary would be preferable to how he was feeling now. The cold and isolation of being blind and battered and stuck in an alien vessel that he had only just stepped foot in just over two hours ago, was numbing and a little bit worrying. His mind wondered back, hopelessly remembering it all over again.

Tren had taken down two of his attackers, and Sheppard; with his help, had staggered to his feet. He remembered how the repeated punches to his guts had made him fold over in agony. Tren was asking him things but he was in too much pain to answer, and then more of the attackers appeared and Tren was forced to take his support away and next he felt a heavily booted foot kick the side of his head, leaving him unstable and seeing stars. He had fought against the continuing barrage of fists and elbows in the fight quite well considering, but then it all changed.

Sheppard shuddered as he relived the feeling of the force of a traveller's weapon as it misfired when it had aimed at Tren. The flash burns from it had made him fall to the ground in agony, clutching at his face and eyes as it swept over him. He didn't remember much after that, only constant tugging as he reckoned Tren must have come to his aid afterwards and pulled him, carried him or dragged him to his craft and to safety. Tren unfortunately fell to an energy blast that struck him in his side violently as the doors had closed. Sheppard clenched his other hand in remembering how he had blindly felt for a pulse; only to find none. He had breathed for him for several minutes, unable to see his face, but feeling out with his bloodied fingers, until finally he was aware of the voice of Tren's co-pilot Katy saying that she was only reading one life sign from his side of the craft. Tren had died.

Sheppard clutched his face, hands fisted in pain and anger and banged on the solid wall. Katy told him that the door to the cockpit had been hit and she could not open it to let him in.

Sheppard had felt the craft surge upwards suddenly and he screamed at her to find out what was happening. Katie had announced that Tren had managed to touch the command screen enough to allow the automatic take off procedure to engage as he had slid down the command column before he died. Sheppard, unfortunately, was falling unconscious and didn't take in what was being said until he woke up later, and the partitioned voice repeated what had happened again to him.

Now, he found, he was struggling to remain awake once again. He poured more water over his hot and aching face and eyes.

"Katy?"

"Yes, John?"

"We'll make it back." It was a statement really, not a question, but Katy took him literally.

"I am hopeful, John. I am trying to manage the craft just now by bypassing the pilot's initial commands to compensate for any lack of necessary…."

"Katy!" Sheppard shouted slightly, mindful of his aching head.

"Yes, John."

"I was just trying to make you feel better."

"Feel?"

"Yes. I was just…oh never mind. Look, I have never met you…funny thing is, even if I could get this dividing door open to see you; I can't just now with my eyes the way they are. So, just…sorry, I'm all over the place, think I have a concussion…again!"

"You have said that before, John. Therefore, I think your behaviour certainly has the characteristics of one. I am sorry you cannot rest as you should, but to keep you alive until rescue, it is vital that you maintain your position on the craft; your gene input is helping to maintain life support."

"That's good, then." Sheppard agreed.

"Affirmative."

"You are very professional, Katy."

"Thank you. I find that to be necessary."

"Um, yeah. Look, about that staying put thing you mentioned; well I think I am going to pass out again. Sorry."

"John?"

Sheppard had hung on as long as he could, but his legs could not support the strain of keeping him upright, and as he fell down, Sheppard let go of his stomach's contents, only just managing to avoid the stream as he twisted awkwardly onto the hard cold floor. The thought that Tren lay dead a few feet away caused his stomach to rebel again.

"John?"

The small craft bucked against the weight of space that it was unaccustomed to and was never meant to be in. It rattled and dipped. Screeches of metal rebelled against imminent death, thankfully and obstinately, bucking the trend. The small alien craft was protecting him so far, but the longer it drifted only added to the danger of it breaking up.

Sheppard was ill and it would have been easy to stay unconscious, but he fought it in the end. He reached behind him and took out his water flask from his back pocket, and once again used the liquid to dim the sharp and stinging pain of the burns on his face. His eyes; he didn't dare open them again, were causing him so much pain and discomfort. The flask was almost empty, so he took a last glug of it and flung it to the far side, offended that he had no more.

"I'm…I'm still here." Sheppard managed at last to reply to Katy.

"You did not lose consciousness again?"

"Nah." Sheppard swallowed. "Managed to hang on this time."

"Then it is imperative to your health that you return your hand to the interface."

On rubbery legs, Sheppard raised himself up and felt out again until he felt his palm meld into the shape again.

"Okay. I'm here."

"The readings are not good, John. I am sorry to tell you this but this craft's structure cannot withstand the strain of deep space for much longer."

Sheppard took in Katy's words, and then once again pressed his forehead forward onto the cool metal, and he sighed.

"How long is long?" He whispered, suddenly exhausted.

"I cannot say for certain, but I approximate the craft will pull apart from the strain in just under one half of an hours' time."

Sheppard shivered against the cold reply, and was honesty surprised she could sound so calm throughout all this.

"Then we just have to hold on to the hope that my friends will find us before that happens."

"John, there is something else." Katy's statement caused him to jerk his head up and then moan with the resulting dizziness.

"What is it?"

"The craft does not have enough power to sustain life for that amount of time anyway, John. I am sorry."

"As in?"

"Oxygen levels are extremely low – approximately only ten minutes left…and I cannot redirect any more power to heat the craft any longer also. I have nothing else left to try. I am sorry, John."

Sheppard drew his mouth to the mesh speaker. "Katy, listen to me." Sheppard sighed and breathed out. "You have done remarkably well. You have nothing to apologise for. We will be rescued soon, I know it. You have to trust in my friends, they will not let us down... they will find us…"

Katy interrupted him before he could continue. "John, please listen to me and do not interrupt. You will not know it with your eyes being the way they are but I have now disconnected all lighting and the craft has gone dark. I'm trying to elongate these estimates as best I can."

"Katy?"

"Please, allow me to finish…this is my function, John."

Sheppard wrinkled his brow, finding this woman's speech continue to be very odd, but he allowed her to carry the conversation along. It was her craft after all. "Go ahead."

"Not far from where you are standing it a small lever. Pull it down and you will find a small, portable cylinder. This is oxygen for you…"

"You have one of these on your side, right?" Sheppard was starting to get very worried about Katy.

"John." She continued. "As I said, life support will end soon, and not just the oxygen; heating also; then it will be so very cold and you may not survive that. Beside the lever is a drawer with thermal blankets; you must take them and lie down when the time comes and wrap yourself up well. Place the mask from the cylinder over your nose and mouth and turn the oxygen on. It has about one hour's worth of oxygen in it…"

"But the craft will disintegrate before that anyway, is that was you are saying?" Sheppard interrupted.

Katy was slow to answer again. "Yes, John. You are correct."

"Marvellous!"

There was a whirring noise and John fumbled to press the intercom button again. "Katy?" He all but screamed into the mesh.

"That was me powering down, John. This was to enable the craft to reach these goals I mentioned."

"Wha'…what are you saying, Katy. I mean, how are you? Do you have all these things in place too?"

"John, you can let go now. There is nothing else that can be done. I have explained the situation to you. What I have done will hopefully be enough to aid your survival until rescue."

Sheppard clutched at his heart which felt like it was going way too fast. He felt tired and incredibly weary. The ship's groans were getting louder and louder and it fought for his attention against his health and the extreme coldness that was wrapping him up in an invisible shroud.

"Katy, what are you saying to me?" He said slowly, already knowing the answer.

"In order for your survival, I have taken everything off-line now except for an open mike that hopefully will reach your ship's radio. You can speak to them without moving to the intercom, John. If they hear you, and pick up on my distress signal that I sent, perhaps it will reach them in time."

"Okay, you are freaking me out that you are not including yourself in this rescue attempt of yours, Katy…Katy, will you answer me?!"

Sheppard tore his hand away from the dead console in anger that she had now silenced him.

"Katy!" He shouted once more; but the effort of doing so had come at a cost. Sheppard landed on his knees and held his painful head for a minute and just let out a long, slow moan. The cold was something he could not ignore, so he raised himself up to standing again and searched for the lever and drawer Katy had advised him of.

The blankets were a welcome addition, but he knew they would not stave off the deep cold of space; but perhaps just enough until the Daedalus showed up. Thank goodness it had been there on this mission with them, it had been useful with their peace talks with Tren and his friends as they had space technology themselves.

Sheppard placed the small tank on the ground and felt for the mask; letting it and the tubing release from the side holding it in readiness.

Damn, but his movements were starting to get sluggish. He felt sick, cold, tired and extraordinarily heavy. Dropping down to sit on his backside, he let his head fall back against the cool metal legs of the console and thought of his team; hoping they were alive and well.

Angry at Katy's sacrifice for him, Sheppard thumped his fist on the joining wall to the cockpit.

"Katy!"

There was still no answer. He punched the wall a couple more times throughout the next few minutes, but there was never a reply, and then the air ran out.

It happened without warning. One minute, he was sitting silently, thinking about Katy, Tren and his team; especially Teyla, and the predicament they were all in. He was cold; yes, but breathing normally, and then, in the next minute he felt like a fish out of water; he gasped and spluttered. Choking, he quickly reached for the mask and put it on and greedily sucked in the sweet oxygen before remembering he had to have it at the lowest setting to conserve it longer. All three blankets were now wrapped tightly around him, but he was colder than he thought he would ever feel. Perhaps he did not have long. His brain was muddled and it was all he could do to remain awake.

There was then a sharp crackling noise and Sheppard raised his head from the ground in bewilderment. He then remembered Katy had said that there was an open mike.

"Dae…" He breathed in more oxygen. "Daeda…lus. This is…Sheppard. Can you hear me?"

The silence that followed felt so incredibly hollow and lonely; unlike anything he had ever felt before. Regret took hold of him in that minute. He knew He was dying. He could have told beautiful Teyla how much he loved and admired her. He could have fought off more Wraith with Ronon by his side; warrior with warrior, grinning at their narrow escapes like little boys. He could have spent more time with Rodney, sharing the banter they had each grown to love. It hurt him that he would not be able to say and do the things he loved and with the people he loved. This was how his death was to be; and he was now resigned to that fact.

Still the crackles came and he stopped being worried about himself. Katy was still in need of rescue. His addled thoughts were slow to correspond with his brain now. Why had she remained quiet though? Was she already dead by a lack of oxygen - her sacrifice for him?

"Teyla?" He called out in a whisper. If the Daedalus was coming for him; then she would be on board and if anybody could hear him, it would be Teyla. So: "Telya, help her." He cried out again to the open air from where he lay in a tight ball.

Time continued to leak from his expectation of what he had left and he lay exhausted beyond belief; hardly able to mouth out the constant pleas for help every time he heard a crackle. His worry for Katy over himself now had grown in proportions, but he was becoming more and more confused by the minute and his heart and breathing felt unnatural.

"I…I…haven't much air left…I'm not sure what's happening. She… you must save ...her Teyla. I'm...so confused…"

Nothing.

A painful, black nothingness.

"Please, Teyla…where are you? … Don't let her die…'

It was too hard to hang on now and Sheppard remembered before he fell unconscious, Katy's words from earlier. "Let go, John." Sheppard blinked painful burnt eyelids, once; twice and then he let go.

SGA SGA SGA

The hull began to flake away tiny pieces of metal with the strain of deep space and it couldn't fight against somewhere it was not meant to be. The craft was dying as it hung awaiting the final blow. Its innards were drawn out through the thick coating and its destruction was inevitable and sealed.

The Daedalus was huge in comparison as it raced towards the stricken vessel, all on board hoping they were on time to save Sheppard.

Ronon was almost breaking the back of the chair he stood behind, his fingers embedded deep into the material in a strong curl; the wait to get near enough Sheppard's position to beam him in telling in his stance.

Rodney paced, checked his computer, and then paced again; constantly walking with great strides towards Caldwell, only to stop and then turn away again. Caldwell was patient; this was a trial for all, himself included; as his growing friendship with the younger Colonel was now established.

Teyla openly wept; her constant pleas for Sheppard to respond to her were heart breaking. They all had suspected that she and Sheppard were working on a romantic relationship, but this had yet to be made manifest. Somehow, it made Sheppard's return even more vital. Teyla's hurting was hard to witness.

"Tey…la…"

One last late transmission reached their ears and it was gut wrenching that he would not hear Teyla's soft reply.

"I love you." She whispered; eyes squeezed tight and holding back tears of worry.

"Got him!" Some-one cried out, and everyone suddenly became alert. "I've got a signal!"

Carson who had remained calm for everyone and had stayed standing at the back of the bridge, now belted out: "Well, bloody well beam him to sickbay!" He turned and ran there, conjuring up all that he might have to do for his friend when he materialised. He was joined by Teyla, Ronon and Rodney, who remained silent, only believing it to be true when they could see him for themselves.

Carson tapped his ear piece and shouted out orders and once he arrived he came to a sudden halt at the empty space his friend would arrive at. A long minute passed and he was still not there.

"Where is he?" Rodney shouted into his ear piece. His manner speaking for them all.

"It's proving to be tricky. The ship's breaking up. All manner of things happ…ah, that's him now, got him…"

It felt like an age; but sure enough within the shimmer and holding of breaths', one Lt. Colonel John Sheppard somehow found his way back into their lives.

And not a moment too soon. The small craft was consumed by the powerful force of space and was wiped from its future.

"This Katy…is there any way you can beam her out too?" Carson flung out whilst watching Ronon pick up his friend, discard the oxygen bottle, and place the tightly coiled frozen body on the empty bed; the oxygen mask still hanging from his mouth, and the blankets slipping off him and fluttering to the floor.

"No, Doctor Beckett." A young man said quietly.

"There were no other life signs. The craft has broken up now anyway. I am sorry, there is nothing we can do." Caldwell added. "Let me know how the Colonel is as soon as you know, doctor. Caldwell out."

Carson turned to face his friends. "You know I have to do this without an audience. I'll come out to tell you as soon as I know how he is." And with that Carson's staff ushered the three friends to the small waiting room on the ship and left them to brood in silence.

"He was so cold." Ronon was the first to speak. He turned to take Teyla's hand and took it in both his large ones as if compensating for not being able to do the same to Sheppard.

"Was he?" Teyla asked almost dreamily. She had remained frozen to the spot.

Ronon nodded and sucked in his top lip. "We got to him in time, Teyla."

"We didn't know about the oxygen tank, and the blankets would have helped ... still," Rodney shut up the minute the glower Ronon sent him made him realise his mistake.

Teyla understood and patted his knee. "It is okay, Rodney."

If time was slow before, the next few minutes were an age of gigantic proportions. They heard Carson ask for this test and that scan through doors that opened and shut with almost clockwork precision, as they followed his commands.

Teyla sat in the middle of her two friends and clutched at Ronon's hand several times when she heard raised voices that got them worried.

One hour, then two passed and finally Carson appeared. His face was flushed, but excitement came through also from his eyes, and he was smiling softly. He stopped in front of them and moved a hand up and down for them to remain sitting.

"Stay. Stay put now. He's going to be okay, that's the main thing to know. It will take a while to recover from the traumas to his body, but nothing is life threatening. Looks like we got him in time." His voice broke off slightly. "Another five minutes even, and …" He hunkered down in front of Teyla and took her hand. "Sorry, lass. Shouldn't have said that. Doesn't matter anyway, it never happened."

He stood back up.

"So, we will warm him up gradually. He is obviously hypothermic, also suffering from hypoxemia; low oxygen. The lad also has some mild burns to his face; the eyes were thankfully unaffected – looking forward to hearing how that happened! He has a mild concussion, several deep bruises, and …well, I think that's enough for now."

The three in front of him were now standing up from their seats.

"And I don't suppose you will go and rest until you see him?" He said with a wider smile.

"Nope!" Ronon spoke for them all and allowed Rodney and Teyla to walk through the doors first before turning to Carson and clasping his shoulder. "Thanks, doc."

Carson felt a lump in his throat at the man's kind gesture. He pulled out one chair for Teyla to sit in on the less busy side of Sheppard's bed. She gently took his hand under the warming blanket. "So cold!"

Sheppard looked so white he could almost match the sheets. Bandages wrapped around his head had them worried. "Just whilst he's out of it. His eyes are okay; he will be able to see again. His bruises have bruises on his chest. There must have been a few kicks by several men."

"I'll find them once I get back on the planet."

"I'm afraid that won't be the case, Ronon." Caldwell said as he arrived; Carson had radioed him.

"What do you mean?" Rodney asked.

"We reported back to our friends. Seems their ship has taken off, although we do have their ships signature for later research."

"Do you think they had heard about Sheppard being there? They seemed to want him bad."

"Don't suppose we will ever know, unless we meet up with them again."

"I'll wait for that day." Ronon barked out.

Everyone remained silently watching Carson look after their friend for a time, with the occasional glances Teyla's way as she whispered secret words in his ear.

After a time Caldwell had left and returned once more with Rodney looking up at him. "I wonder who this Katy was. Sheppard will be gutted she didn't survive when he finds out."

"He won't need to be. She didn't exist…well, that's not strictly true."

"Eh!" Rodney squawked. "He sure wanted her saved!"

"She was a computer, Rodney. Pure and simple. The Euticans told us that Tren's craft was fitted with a sophisticated computerised co-pilot; KT- 292 to be exact. I suppose Sheppard, with all that was going on with his concussion etc., probably only heard the K.T part, and Katy was born out of that."

Teyla sighed and gripped John's hand tighter. "He will be relieved at this news." Teyla's said, mirroring all their views. One less death that would not weigh on him; and to that fact they were all very relieved.

"Right, out, the lot of you." Carson said.

There was quiet shouts of protest and then threats about needles; but eventually the infirmary quietened and it was just the sleeping Sheppard and an exempt, watchful Teyla, left by his side after Carson went to type up some notes.

"They gone?"

Teyla almost stood up in fright. She leant forward and put her hand on his chest . "John Sheppard, are you awake?" She asked quietly.

"Blessing of these bandages. I could eavesdrop for a while. Am I really back?" he rasped out.

"You really are. You have had us worried."

Sheppard swallowed the offered water and smiled weakly. "Sorry to give you a fright like that."

"It is okay. Go back to sleep. We will talk more when you are rested. I'll go and get Carson."

"Wait!...Katy..I mean, K.T…she was not really alive?"

"Oh, John, you heard that part too?"

"I did…I was so worried. I'm…relieved…that…"

"Ssh. Please, John. Get better for me."

Sheppard felt Teyla kiss his forehead and he shivered. He gripped her hand tighter before he fell asleep again. All questions would be answered soon enough.

SGA SGA SGA

Sheppard was never one to remain down for long and was soon up and about and accompanying Ronon and Teyla back to the planet to speak to their new friends again.

Grent, who was Tren's brother, particularly wanted him to see his ship and told him it would answer some questions he may have.

"It's certainly a beauty, Grent." Sheppard said as they drew closer, seeing it on the outside for the first time. He sneakily stroked against Teyla's hand as they walked and she gave it a tight squeeze back.

"And it's the same as your brother's?"

"It is, yes. A good death for him in the ship he loved so much. He loved the thought of space travel. Do not be upset at his passing, my friend."

Sheppard nodded.

"So that's what you were in?" Ronon breathed out. "Not very big?"

"No, it wasn't!" Sheppard grimaced at the memory.

Once inside, Grent ushered Sheppard forward and made a show of palming his hand over a large square, lit up button.

"Control, flying with us today is Colonel John Sheppard."

"Colonel John Sheppard, pleased to meet you. I am co-pilot K.T. 437…." Came a familiar voice.

Sheppard smiled. "I'm honoured."

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The end.