Day Forty-Three

Anbur simply crashes through the front door of the rememdium, bellowing "Neela!" loudly. A tiny old woman scurries into the foyer almost instantly, takes in the situation and begins firing questions as she leads them into the back room. John has been in the infirmary in Atlantis so many times, he doesn't even have to know the doctor's actual questions; he just gives her the dart.

The room is dim and close; there is barely room enough for the low bed. She points and Anbur lays Elizabeth down gently, then steps to the side. The rememdium squats next to Elizabeth and begins to examine the wound low on her neck, then starts scrabbling around Elizabeth's shirt with its unfamiliar zipper.

John's face is flushing hot and red, but he steps around Anbur to unzip her shirt and lift Elizabeth up slightly to strip it off over her head. He gets a brief smile of thanks as he gives her room to work. The old woman places her hand over Elizabeth's chest, just above the heart. Elizabeth's breath is stuttering, short uneven breaths.

John looks away from the old woman's walnut-dark hand, lying so intimately on Elizabeth, as she chants, almost singing, but he can't see anything happening. "Anbur, what's going on?"

"Neela is healer." Anbur says simply, though it doesn't really answer the question. "Gift of Qaral."

That might be a better answer. John thinks back to the catechisms he's learned over the last three weeks. Qaral was the Ancient who had transplanted the population here, along with his native wife and son, and then disappeared in a flash of light. Mentally, he digs back further into the SGC mission reports for the rest of the information on Ancient healing. "Okay," is all he says.

He checks that Timmons is watching over the injured assassin in the front room before stepping outside into the brilliant, hot street.

"Daedalus, this is Sheppard."

"Go ahead, Sheppard." Caldwell sounds like he's strung too tightly, and is about to snap.

"What's the ETA on the doctor?"

"Dr. Cole left three minutes ago."

"Lieutenant Cadman is waiting for them outside the town's west gate."

"I'll pass that on."

"Anbur's taken Elizabeth to the local healer and she's working on her now. I don't know her status yet. Do you still have Shaaziya with you?" John is hoping that Caldwell didn't immediately throw her into the brig as thanks for her warning, however untimely it was.

"Dr. McKay has her in the conference room, keeping her entertained with an MRE, and she doesn't seem particularly anxious to leave."

"I need to ask her a few questions, but I'll have to check on the logistics from this end." John can hear the high whine of the 302 in the distance, and everyone in the street is excitedly rushing towards the gate. "Dr. Cole is here, I'll report in as soon as we know anything."

"Very good Colonel, Daedalus out."

John keys the radio to get Cadman. "Lieutenant, report."

"We're just inside the gates, sir."

"The rememdium is about two blocks to the north of the fountain, the second street on the left." He pauses to think before he continues; they desperately need the goodwill of N'vellesem, but he has to balance that with Elizabeth's life. With some regret, he orders Cadman, "Do what you have to do to get through the crowd, Lieutenant."

"Roger that, sir. Doesn't seem to be a problem, they're not impeding our progress."

That relieves John as he goes back in to check on Elizabeth. She's still unconscious, and Neela has her hands wrapped around Elizabeth's head, fingers threading through her dark hair, thumbs stroking her cheeks. Neela is still chanting, and Anbur is kneeling at Elizabeth's feet, singing along with Neela; his voice echoes hers in a lower octave.

Going back outside, John waves in the Lieutenant and Dr. Cole; the curious crowd is following them at a respectful distance. John's admiration for them goes up a notch or two.

"Dr. Cole, she's in here."

"Colonel."

"Cadman, stand watch, we don't need the whole village in here." He pulls Dr. Cole into the house. "First, their rememdium, or doctor, might have some Ancient healing gene, are you familiar with that?"

"I've read the pertinent mission files."

John wonders about the raw info dump he'd struggled with for so long. "She may or may not be helping, I don't want to disrupt her if she is."

"Understood, Colonel."

One of them had figured out the rest of the zips; Elizabeth's slacks are open and shoved down, and now Neela's hands are stroking long swaths underneath her underpants, up to her ribs and then back down again.

Anbur is still kneeling, but he's silent now, his lips moving with words of prayer. John crouches down beside Anbur, and speaks to him in a low voice. "Anbur, our rememdium is here, Dr. Cole. Can she examine Elizabeth?"

"Yes. Neela finish quick."

And at that, Neela stops, rearranges Elizabeth's remaining clothing and pulls a light blanket up to her neck. She and Anbur hold a conversation that's so fast John can't follow it, but Anbur gives him the gist of it when they are through. "The poison is strong."

John nods as Anbur pulls him out of the room. Dr. Cole brushes past them, pulling out her stethoscope and kneeling at the low bed to start a physical examination, which oddly takes the same route as Neela's: heart beat, examine the eyes, palpitate the lymph glands under her jaw and then checking for distension of the belly. Elizabeth is still gasping for air, though not as heavily as she was a few minutes earlier. Cole yanks the stethoscope off and snaps, "I need her in the infirmary, like ten minutes ago."

John shoves Elizabeth's shirt into his pocket and carefully picks her up, while Anbur tucks the blanket around her as they turn to go. Neela is at the door and John thanks her as they sweep out of the room.

"Cadman, give the pilot a heads up, we're on our way out."

They're walking at a fast clip, and the crowd easily parts for them. "Lieutenant, make sure that Neela knows the assassin needs looking after, I'll be back in a few minutes."

"Yes Sir."

It's not far, nothing in the small town is very distant, and they soon have Cole in the back seat of the 302 with Elizabeth on her lap, and Lieutenant Faraj is closing the canopy. John shoves the crowd back, away from the hot blast of the engines.

Even with Harrier take-off capabilities, the sand is a problematic runway. Huge, billowing clouds of hot sand and dust are thrown up, scouring everyone in range. John doesn't have to order anyone back; they are running inside the city gates.

John and Anbur watch until they're in the air and are fully away. It hasn't even been twenty minutes. John turns to Anbur. "I must speak to the assassin and Shaaziya, can you return to Daedalus with us?"

"Yes, I will come."

~*~

John gets a little refresher course in history before they start with the assassin from the west. "They are the same but do not believe as same. Qaroptimat follow Son of Qaral as rightful leader after Wilan's death. They wait for blood of Quaralyn to return, blood of Ancestors very important. We follow Doctus as Wilan's chosen, and do not wait for Quaralyn."

John nods, this is all ground he's covered in beginner's theology.

"Qaroptimat believe only the Abnepa or Idon may study Qaral's words, but they have only fragmented remembrance, their Vaxqaralyn. There was much blood spilled for many years, but now steady peace for many hundred generations."

"So we've upset the balance, and they're trying to rectify the situation." John flashes back the evening that Elizabeth had wowed the crowd at the teahouse. Elizabeth's theory that they must travel across the desert out of sight was right on the money; how else would the Qaroptimat know she was studying the Avaxqaral, and how did Shaaziya gain that intelligence?

"Hmm. Just so."

The prisoner is awake and sullen, but Nail answers Anbur's questions; a holy man of knowledge is not to be ignored, regardless of sect. John's supposition turns out to be correct; Elizabeth had been targeted because she was directly studying the Avaxqaral. The rest of them were known to be taking only children's classes from paper transcripts and hand crafted books.

John reports the intelligence to Caldwell and gets a status report on Elizabeth—no change—before they return to the school to gather their belongings. Night is falling rapidly and John is anxious to get back to the Daedalus. He leaves the prisoner in the hands of the N'vellesem with a request that they be able to ask him further questions.

"We are not like Qaroptimat, he will be safe." Anbur looks a little put out that John brings up the possibility of capital punishment.

"I'm sorry, I just had to know." With that, they set out across the moonlit desert. Anbur's retinue is vastly reduced from his original contingent; only Baariq, Dara and Iqbal of the Idon accompany them.

~*~

They're only a few hours into the hike to the Daedalus when John's radio crackles to life, and the comm tech is calling. "Colonel Sheppard, this is Daedalus."

"Sheppard here."

Caldwell answers him. "We have a situation, Colonel. The Daedalus is surrounded by Habibs on the ground. They are armed and presumed dangerous--and we don't have any idea of what their problem is."

"Understood." John bristles at the probably unintended slur. Caldwell isn't that much older, but it's these little things that remind John they're of two separate generations of soldiers. He steadies his voice. "Anbur and a couple of his friends are with us. Can we take them?"

"Possibly, but I'm reluctant to engage and escalate, especially with unarmed civilians under your care."

"I agree. What do you suggest?"

"Hermiod and Dr. McKay are trying to get the Asgard beam working, but we don't have time for any testing."

"Uh, that's not very reassuring."

Rodney interrupts. "It'll be fine, Colonel. Go, Novak." There's a bright, blinding flash that lights up the night sky and Rodney is there in the flesh, looking smug. "And I'll prove it to you." He nods at Anbur and the Idon, who look completely flabbergasted. He taps his radio, "Novak, lock onto my transmitter. There's," he pauses to count, "eight others. You got 'em? Great." He turns to John. "Don't get used to this, Sheppard, Caldwell says it's mission critical only—it takes too much power."

John takes a moment to introduce Rodney. "Anbur, this is Dr. Rodney McKay, our chief scientist. Rodney, this is Anbur, Baariq, Dara and Iqbal. They're sort of the rulers and religious leaders of the Peragroilla of N'vellesem. Anbur's the one that saved Elizabeth."

"Oh, well. Thank you, really. Pleased to meet you. Now, we need to form a small group, but for God's sake don't any one touch each other."

If Rodney's so certain that he'd risk coming out here, who is John to question? He pulls the awed Idon into a small area. "Don't touch, stay apart, okay? We're going to take a little trip." He points at Rodney, who's arranging Cadman, Chin and Brown as an illustration, instructing them to form another ring around the Idon.

"Yes, Sheppard, we understand." Anbur says in a shaky voice, turning to his companions, passing on the instructions.

John and Rodney take their places in the formation. "Do your magic, McKay."

Rodney grins and taps his radio. "Novak, nine to beam aboard at your discretion."

John rolls his eyes and before he can comment, they're in the ring room aboard the Daedalus. "Jesus, Rodney, how long have you been waiting to say that?"

Rodney laughs, "Actually, I didn't even think about it." He kicks a little of the sand they'd brought with them. "Huh, I guess we need to work on that."

They turn around and their guests are on their knees, foreheads to the ground, praying.

Rodney is pulling them up as he chastises them, "Oh, no. No. Don't do that. It's just not dignified!"

"We have never seen such power. There are the tales of the very old transcribed many years after landfall which describe such things." Anbur says it dreamily, as he looks around the ring room. During John's stay in N'vellesem, Anbur has treated all of them with a friendly respect, but now there's a little more reverence in his tone.

John isn't sure he likes it.

He looks away as he radios Caldwell. "We're all aboard, Colonel. Safe and sound."

"Very well, Colonel, please bring your guests to the conference room immediately."

"Yes, sir. Come on, let's go meet the boss."

John and Rodney herd the Idon to the conference room, giving them a mini-tour on the way. They are politely impressed with the Daedalus, despite the uneven floors and her broken state.

Once they arrive at the conference room, John gets his first look at their mysterious benefactor. She has a handsome face, despite the slightly hawkish nose, with pale green eyes, which widen at the sight of Anbur and his retinue. She slides easily from her chair onto her knees, curling in, so that her nose touches her knees with her hands over her eyes.

Anbur speaks to her in a sharp tone of voice, and it looks like she almost flows to her feet, though her eyes are still downcast as she replies.

The conversation continues between them. John isn't nearly good enough to follow it, and he uses the time to watch Rodney. It's a little disheartening to see the expression on Rodney's face; even though he doesn't have any way to communicate with her, John can see that Rodney's already well and truly smitten.

Shaaziya elaborately answers all of their questions, and then Anbur gives them the lowdown.

"Zuhair, the Abnepa of the Qaroptimat, heard of Elizabeth from spies. Has declared nixat."

John tilts his head slightly as he thinks about that. "I'm pretty sure I know what that means, but maybe you can be a little more specific."

"They may openly attack, and you are not safe from deception. Those of your people who study Avaxqaral are forfeit, unclean."

Caldwell interjects a question. "What about Shaaziya, is she in danger, because of what she's done?"

Anbur studies Shaaziya for a moment. He asks her another question, and she shakes her head as she replies, which brings a smile to Anbur's face. "Shaaziya lal Q'yn is in no danger of retribution. Her presence is of no consequence to those who wait. I leave for you decide if she is dangerous."

"Great." John, Rodney and Caldwell each glance at the other, but it's apparent that his meaning is unclear to all of them. John turns back to Anbur. "What does that mean for your people? That you've allowed this to happen?"

"We have means to discuss the matter. This has happened before, do not worry."

John hates that they're responsible for breaking a thousand year old armistice. "Anbur, did you know this would happen? If you let Elizabeth into the database?"

Anbur looks John in the eye, those startling gray eyes hiding nothing. "We do not worship the blood, or wait for the Quaralyn, but as a learned man, how can I ignore such a sign?"

Rodney makes a sarcastic, scoffing sound. "What the hell is a Quaralyn?"

Anbur doesn't take offense at Rodney's denigrating tone, but answers mildly, "The son of Qaral promised to return after his death. The Qaroptimat wait for him."

John should have expected this—how often did an alien space ship crash land on your planet, and said aliens hand over a device that proclaims that they are messengers of your god? "I know this hard to believe, but we aren't who you think we are—we're just like you."

It's going to be impossible to conceal forever the fact that there are ATA gene carriers on board, and in the interest of not having this come back and bite him on the ass later, John decides to lay all of their cards out on the table. "Rodney, do you have any more of those Ancient gadgets?"

"A couple. You don't mean to..."

Colonel Caldwell cuts him off. "Sheppard, do you think that's a wise decision?"

"Yes, I do. We can't sustain a secret of this magnitude for very long, and I think in the interest good relations, we have to be completely honest."

"What would Dr. Weir say?"

"I'm pretty sure she'd back me up on this." Actually, John isn't at all sure. She'd mentioned that this might come up at their initial parlay with Anbur, but they've butted heads over policy more than once in the last year. He intends to take advantage of her absence, especially since she was the one who got them into this mess. Rodney gives him a 'you've got to be kidding' look, but disappears to retrieve a device.

Caldwell doesn't appear to buying it either, though he doesn't prevent John from explaining to Anbur the events of the last year: Stargates and distant Galaxies and the Ancients retreating from the Wraith and Pegasus, and the fact that some of them are also very distant descendants of the Ancestors.

Anbur nods "This is same, the history of Dominat. Qaral must not leave the archepat in city of Ancestors, could no longer protect. Many legends of living with the Ancestors before Dominat."

John recalls his school lessons; they use term archepat to describe their ancestors, to differentiate them from the Ancestors. He thinks that it's pretty amazing that they have such clear records, and it's almost incomprehensible to know that they understand their history so far back into the distant past.

Rodney returns and lays the tschotchke on the table between Anbur and John. Anbur's eyes flicker over to Shaaziya. Though she wasn't capable of following John's story, she will definitely get the full effect of the demonstration. He gives Shaaziya an order, and she stands immediately. "Doctor, please take her."

"What!" Rodney's not used to Anbur's grasp of English, and John translates.

"Rodney, you need to take Shaaziya out of here. Anbur doesn't want her to see this. I agree."

"Oh, right. Well, wait for me, I want to be here." Rodney points at one of the Marines standing guard outside the room. "You, Marine person, come with me."

John glances at Caldwell. "Actually, in the interest of full disclosure, I think we need every one on board with the gene in here."

"I concur." Caldwell calls the OD to round them up them up while Rodney guides Shaaziya out of the room.

They wait a few minutes, and soon Dr. Beckett, Major Lorne, and the other handful of the ATA enabled staff are assembled. Rodney returns from stashing Shaaziya in the mess.

"Anbur. These people all carry what you call the blood of the Ancestors. Very few of us have this, we call it a gene."

"As it is for us."

"Okay. Here goes." John picks up the small device and thinks 'on'; it glows, and there's a small sound, like the refrain from a song. He smiles and asks, "Music box?"

Rodney grins back. "I think so, we really aren't sure."

"Cool." He turns it off and hands it to Rodney who repeats the procedure, though the light and sound are slightly fainter. He hands it off to Beckett who's wearing a faintly queasy expression as he activates it. The device is passed down the line, giving away the relative strength of every individual's ATA gene, until it finally comes back to John. He hands it to Anbur, and it glows dimly, but does not emit sound. Anbur hands it to Baariq, but stays dark. Iqbal and Dara have the gene, but not even as strong as Anbur.

"We are like you, Anbur. We are not to be worshiped, and we aren't Qaral's messengers. It's a coincidence."

"Hmm, very powerful. The fates do not like coincidence." Anbur huddles together with his Idon, and after an extended argument, turns to John. "I see your truth and this may be in your favor with Zuhair. This is very powerful knowledge, you must decide who you may trust. Baariq and Dara say it will be difficult to hide. Iqbal cannot agree to the hiding; it is the way of the Qaroptimat, and is not our way. We will not hide for you, but we will not speak for you. "

Rodney asks, "What does he mean by that?"

"I think they aren't going to go around telling everyone, but we're on our own if we intend to keep this a general secret."

Anbur nods accordingly, and John doesn't like the way that Anbur's looking at him, as if he's reevaluating him from the ground up.

"That's likely the best offer we're going to get, Sheppard." Caldwell dismisses the assembled gene carriers, "Thank you, that will be all for now." He pins John with a serious look. "Colonel, please have the OD assign temporary quarters, I'm sure our guests would like to rest."

Which is colonel-speak for a private 'discussion' in the near future. John only hopes it's after he checks on Elizabeth and a nap. He has Olander assign a female guard for Shaaziya so Rodney can get some rest, and makes sure that Shaaziya knows it's mainly for her protection, though she is restricted to the few public areas of the ship. Anbur and his Idon are also given an escort, and are similarly restricted.

John stops at the infirmary to check on Elizabeth and finds Caldwell already there. Might as well kill two birds with one stone, and he approaches the foot of her bed. "You wanted to see me, sir?"

Caldwell stands and puts himself in John's space, just like a drill instructor, not quite chest to chest. "Colonel Sheppard, while I appreciate the fact that you've had some experience with these people, I do not like to be backed into a corner by one of your unilateral decisions. This isn't a colony yet, and I hope that you can remember that there is still a chain of command." His voice is low and he speaks quietly, but there's no doubt about who he thinks is in charge.

John refuses to be intimidated; he's had it out with the best that the Air Force can throw at him. John is aching to slouch down with an insolent look, but it wouldn't accomplish anything other than pissing off Caldwell and exacerbating the situation. "Colonel, did you disagree with anything that I said or my course of action?"

"Not necessarily, but with our main diplomat out of the picture, I take exception to your seat of the pants diplomacy. It hasn't always worked out for you."

He's got a point, and John knows that the last year has only reinforced his natural tendency to take the initiative as he sees fit. Elizabeth has called him on more than once. John nods, "Yes, sir. I'll make every attempt to take this into consideration in the future."

Caldwell steps back a little. "Thank you, Colonel. If you have a moment later, please inquire if Anbur would consider aiding us in parleying with whoever it is that's outside the ship."

"I'm sure he'll be glad to help."

Caldwell nods and leaves the infirmary.

John takes a breath, drags a chair over to Elizabeth's bedside and sits down, just for a little while. She's on a respirator, still pale and unconscious, but the machines attached to her beep at a reassuring pace. He touches her hand briefly, and it's freezing. He risks picking it up because she's not awake, and chafes it lightly, before he rearranges her blanket a little so it covers her hands.

What a mess, and it'd been going so well. This is what he gets for letting his guard down, even a little. Elizabeth's diplomatic nature was both a source of comfort and a sore spot; but she wasn't available to consult, and honestly, Caldwell might have command of the Daedalus, might have coveted Sheppard's appointment to Atlantis, but he hasn't ever had to deal with the insanity of the Pegasus galaxy, though now he might have to learn to take up the slack if Elizabeth doesn't pull through. John's not sure how well he and Caldwell will cooperate, and he's not looking forward to finding that out.

It's not long before Rodney joins him, pulling up his own chair. "Sheppard. You look like hell."

"Thanks." John frowns at him, but quickly gives it up. "Oh, hey, I brought you a present." John digs into his pocket for the little lamnat coins that Anbur had given them. "Here. I didn't have a chance to buy you anything."

Rodney takes the coins and inspects them carefully, hefting them in his palm as if to judge their weight, and rubbing his thumb over the smooth, almost soapy, surface. "Huh. I'll have to run them through the scanner, but this looks like Yttrium, or even Lutetium. The sensor array picked up huge deposits of them--we're pretty sure that's why the gravity is so high." Rodney clenches his hand around the coins and frowns at Elizabeth. "I'm just sorry that Shaaz didn't show up sooner, we could've nipped it in the bud."

John gives Rodney the inscrutable eyebrow, but this time it's obvious what he means.

"Well, it's a long name, and she's always correcting my pronunciation, and well, you know."

"It's fine, Rodney, but I wouldn't get too attached to her. I know she came here to warn us, but we can't just keep her here, and we can't just let her go. We just don't know."

"Yes, I know that, but that isn't a reason to treat her like a criminal."

"I'm not treating her like a criminal. I don't think anyone will try to harm her, I'm just not taking any chances. I don't need any more grief on my hands right now."

Rodney's voice takes on an uncharacteristic tone of compassion. "Really, Sheppard, I understand. I'm just frustrated with the communication gap."

"Yeah. I don't think I ever really grasped how much easier life was with the 'gates."

Carson sticks his head out of the infirmary office. "I thought I heard your dulcet voices."

John wonders how much Carson overheard of his conversation with Caldwell. "How is she, Carson?"

"The poison appears to be chemically similar to cobra venom, it's attacking the acetylcholine receptor sites in her diaphragm, but we've no antivenin for it. By the time we develop one, her system will already have broken down the poison. All we can do keep her ventilated and hydrated, until she's breathing on her own."

Rodney casts a worried glance at the still form on the bed. "But she'll be fine, right?"

"I think so, Rodney; her urine and blood work is showing an increase in the by-products, and thanks to the healer's immediate attention, she never stopped breathing."

"Are we talking brain damage, Doc?" John shivers involuntarily at the idea of dealing with an invalid Elizabeth, slack-jawed and insensible, on top of all the other problems of being stranded.

"Once it's all broken down and flushed out of her system, she should be fine. I've no reason to think there are permanent consequences, but I think a discussion with their healer might be in order."

"I dunno, Neela's pretty old to walk that far, and I think I'd rather have you here."

"This is ridiculous, we're on an Asgard hybrid ship." Rodney storms out of the infirmary, looking intent enough to do murder.

John and Carson just look at each other and shrug.

"How long will it be?"

"It should be a few days on the respirator. When she regains consciousness, we'll see if she's up to breathing on her own. Meanwhile, Colonel, you should get some rest and not in that chair."

"Right, I'll do that." John makes no move to get up, and Carson gives him a firm look. "Oh. I guess I'll check in later."

"You do that, Colonel."

John walks to his cabin, taking a detour by the guest cabins to check in with the Marines in the hallway. "Everything all right here?"

"Yes sir, I think they've all conked out. Not a peep."

"Thanks." John has got to get the hang of talking to the Marines, he sounds so lame. Hartley obviously agrees; he's trying hard not to smirk at John.

In his cabin, John strips and takes a quick shower, then falls into bed. The worry, exhaustion and frustration war with each other for a few minutes, but he eventually falls asleep.

 

Days Forty-Four - Forty-Five

John's awakened out of deep sleep by the klaxon, and a call for all hands on deck over the ship's loudspeakers. He can feel the engines vibrating as he throws on whatever is closest to hand while calling the bridge. "This is Sheppard, what's going on?"

"We've just detected a Wraith ship in orbit, sir. The sensors weren't able to get a reading any sooner."

"Tell Caldwell I'm on my way to the hangar bay." Sheppard cranks down the last knot in his boot and takes off running. The ship is on high alert, and the crew is running from station to station, looking serious and grim and yelling at the lurking civilians to get out of the way.

The hangar is already a hive of activity. The pilots are running preflight, the ground crew is inspecting the armaments and everyone has their assignment well in hand. A few armed Marines are still standing guard, stationed at the open edge of the hangar bay to keep an eye on the Qaroptimat forces outside the ship. The bright sunlight is a shock; John expected it to be dark. He hasn't been asleep for very long, no wonder he still feels exhausted.

Within a few minutes of the alarm the LSO is waving the F-302s out of the hangar, the thundering jet engines throwing out hot blue flames. The Qaroptimat heave themselves to the ground in shock as the jets fly out into the bright sky.

There were more pilots than 302s on-board, and so John wistfully watches the third one take off before he leaves to go to the bridge.

"Rodney, where are you?"

"Busy in the control room, what?"

"Do you need any help?"

"Uh, no?" Rodney kills the discussion when he turns his radio off.

John hits the bridge and finds a place to stand out of the way. They've got the limited sensor readings on the screen, and the darts are screaming out of the Wraith ship. It doesn't look large enough to be a Hive, possibly only a cruiser, but still deadly enough. The out-numbered 302s begin to engage the Wraith darts.

Caldwell stabs the panel on his chair. "McKay! When will the Asgard beam be back online?"

The tech manning communications barks out, "McKay says they're ready to beam the Mark IV out, sir."

Caldwell responds, "At his discretion, Lieutenant. Order the 302s out of the blast range, but continue to engage."

The bridge tech pushes some buttons, and the screen highlights the nuclear warheads shimmering into existence.

McKay's voice comes over the loudspeakers, "It's in position and ready to detonate."

The forward view screen has the relative position of their forces marked in green, and the blast range is a big red circle around the cruiser, like a digital bullseye. Caldwell orders the pilots to evacuate the detonation range; he's cool and collected amidst the fury of technicians and bridge crew working frantically on equipment that's sub-par because of the dust constantly sifting through the fractures in the hull.

When the last of the white 302 dots exits the target area, Caldwell orders, "Initiate detonation."

The dot that represents the nuke blossoms outward like a perverse, deadly flower and then fades to leave behind scattered fragments of radioactive chatter.

The problem is obvious to John. There are a large number of darts still heading towards Dominat, and without a Stargate for them to disappear through, the situation remains grim.

The on-screen display is not lost on Caldwell, either. "Bring the rail guns to bear, let's try to get them out of the air before they land."

'Land war in Asia' briefly, giddily crosses John's mind, and then he's gone, running towards the armory.

"Olander, this is Sheppard, come in."

"Go, Colonel."

"What's the status on the ground troops, Sergeant?"

"I'm about to shove them out the door."

"I'm on my way."

The corridor to the armory is barely controlled chaos. Marines are picking up weapons, ammunition and tactical vests in swift, sure order and running down the tilted halls towards the only exit, the hangar bay. "This is Sheppard—clear the decks in the hangar, the Marines are coming through!"

"Roger that, we're ready for 'em."

John picks up his equipment and heads out. "Bridge, status!"

"They're hitting the atmosphere now."

"Keep me advised."

In the hangar bay, the Marines aren't even bothering with the ladder, but leaping off over the edge into the sand below and then rolling away to clear the landing area for the next wave. "Oh, fuck," and then John is sailing in free fall.

He rolls a few times on landing, and he might have twisted his ankle, but he ignores the pain and hauls ass out from under the Daedalus and into the open sand.

There isn't any sign of the Qaroptimat, they must've bugged out after the 302s took off. John puts on his sunglasses and takes position in the sand, far enough away from the ship to have a clear shot at the bright, lavender sky.

They've brought down Wraith darts like this before; he just hopes that they've drawn the darts to them as the main threat, and that they don't head for N'vellesem, or Ayse even. There hasn't ever been a Wraith culling in their recorded history. Qaral chose Dominat well.

The rail guns begin to fire, tracers trailing blue fire against the purple sky, and darts begin to fall from the sky. Sheppard and a platoon of Marines, seventy men and women in all, fire on those that make it through 302s defense line and the rail guns' barrage.

It goes on for hours, until dusk. The supply officer has crew members running replacement ammunition to the Marines, along with water while the comm tech gives Sheppard a running total of Wraith darts still in the air.

They manage to obliterate the bulk of the darts, and fortunately the culling beams were not in evidence; food is not the Wraith's main objective for the attack.

Any Wraith left standing is bad news, and it's possible that a few have escaped; they could have landed anywhere on the planet. That means that as night falls, they are out on the desert, tracking down downed darts to verify that the occupants have been dispatched.

The night vision goggles give them a measure of equality against the Wraith that appear to be able to see in any light.

It's only as the eastern sky begins to lighten when Sheppard calls back the Marines from their search and destroy mission. Every dart that was within walking range has been double checked, and they're just going to have to find a way to get farther out.

There's nothing more that John would like to do other than get some sleep, but that's not possible. He heads immediately for the bridge and finds that Rodney is already there.

"Ah, Colonel. You're just in time."

"Tell me you have some good news."

"Hermiod and I were tweaking the Asgard beaming protocol when the Wraith showed up. We should be able to beam strike teams at least in line of sight distance now, and get you in range of more Wraith darts."

"How many are there?"

Rodney's good humor disappears. "Maybe fifty."

John resists sighing. "How close are they to either of the towns?"

Caldwell points to the view screen. "They appear to be on heading towards them with all due speed."

"Where do you want the teams for beam out?"

"Any where in the ship will work, but the ring room gives us a better target site."

"I'll call you when the teams are assembled. Can you send them from one wraith signal to another?"

"Essentially." Rodney jerks his head to the side, meaning that John really doesn't need to know the exact particulars.

Caldwell looks up from the data pad that Randall hands him. "We'll keep the 302s in the air, the ground forces will go where the pilots don't have a clear shot."

John really misses flying.

~*~

It's a crush in the corridor outside the ring room, and every one of the assembled soldiers looks tired but determined.

"Heads up! Fire teams of four, you'll be beamed to a distance of a hundred yards of a Wraith life sign. There is no way to know if you'll be in sight of the target, so watch your backs. We'll target those closest to the population centers; the 302s have the targets in open territory. Collateral casualties are to be avoided, but use your judgment." John nods at the first group, headed by Major Lorne, and they crouch back to back on the ring platform. John advises McKay, "Team One is ready."

The four Marines disappear in a flash of white light. The next four take their place and disappear in their turn, again and again until there's only the last four. John steps into position, and gives the order. "Ready."

 

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