SGA-15 Brimstone

by Wilson, David Niall

  They moved as quickly as possible across those hot, open spaces, headed for the city gates. They loomed in the distance, seemingly miles away. The water was going fast and the heat was increasing at an alarming rate. Even Sheppard began to doubt whether they would make it.

  Mara stumbled and Sheppard grabbed her arm.

  “Thank you.” Her smile was weak and forced.

  “Are you okay?”

  She checked his face, saw genuine concern there. “As okay as I can be.” She paused for a moment. “You didn’t have to pretend, you know.”

  “Pretend what?” Sheppard feigned ignorance, but the conversation he had dreaded was upon him. They no longer needed Mara, but to have to face her with the truth of his deception was painful.

  “You pretended that there was a special connection between the two of us, but all along we both knew you just needed me to get your people out of Admah.” When no response was forthcoming from Sheppard, she pressed on. “Don’t be ashamed. I understand. You’re a good man and a good leader. You would have done anything to save your people. Even a love-sick and very bored woman like me can see that.”

  “I didn’t want to hurt you. I honestly want you to come with us — to save yourself from this. You can’t stay here.”

  She looked away, not answering him. “Your people would die for you, you know that? I can see it in their faces. As far as you are willing to go to protect them, they are willing to go just as far. That’s loyalty.”

  “We’ve been together a long time. Been through a lot.”

  She nodded. “And I’ve been through a lot with my people, too.” She jerked her head in the direction of the decrepit city. “They’re all I’ve ever known, for what that’s worth. Even Saul hasn’t always been so…difficult.”

  They had reached the gates, two giant wrought iron structures which hung listlessly from the ends of the wall. Waves of heat washed over and around them, making the air swim for a moment with unrealized vapor. Ronon reached out one hand to shove the gate open a bit farther, a gesture as much of frustration as anything. Sheppard was about to tell him to stop when the sound of sizzling flesh filled the air.

  “It’s hot,” Sheppard muttered to no one in particular.

  “You think?” Ronon scowled and blew on his hand. It didn’t help.

  Ronon drew back, steadied himself, and kicked the gate hard. It swung open a few feet, leaving the shallow imprint of the wrought iron on the bottom of Ronon’s boot. It made him feel better.

  “It was already open,” Cumby commented. “It’s been open a very long time.”

  “Whatever,” Ronon said.

  They passed through the gates quickly, taking care not to touch any part of them. Mara paused before passing that border. She turned and stared back at the city, frowning.

  “What is it?” Sheppard said, taking her arm.

  “Nothing.” She pulled away from him and walked on through the ruined gates.

  “I really am sorry.”

  She studied him, his face streaked with dust and sweat, too red from the sun, and she sighed. “I know.” And then she was through the gates, slipping into the group and away from Sheppard.

  He went through last. It bothered him that he’d had to lie to Mara and if there had been any other way, he wouldn’t have done it. But he’d pay her back — he’d save her from this fiery death.

  Before them lay a long stretch of open field, unfettered by trees or ground cover of any kind. Sheppard blinked hard, trying to force the sweat from his eyes.

  “I can see the gate,” Ronon offered, pointing into the distance.

  Waves of heat roiled over the dead field and in the distance, the gate stood watch. Sheppard nodded and headed off in that direction. Dead grass lashed at their legs and crunched beneath their feet. There were no bugs to fly up into their faces and the sky was completely devoid of clouds. Whatever birds might have dominated the sky had long since died. In that barren, sun-baked landscape, Sheppard and his team were the only living things.

  As they approached the gate, Sheppard stepped up to the DHD to activate it. Mara was close on his heels and she wavered where she stood. The sun beat down relentlessly, scorching the tops of their heads and making them all dizzy, despite the fact they’d pulled out jackets and other gear for shade.

  “Hang on,” Sheppard said, starting to dial, “we’ll be out of here soon.”

  “You are in quite the hurry, Colonel Sheppard.” Saul, looking half-dead from heat and fatigue, emerged from behind the gate. Behind him straggled a handful of guards, equally ragged from the heat. But they were armed and Sheppard didn’t discount them for a moment. “Did they promise to take you with them?” Saul asked Mara. “Is that why you helped them? Did he tell you that he loved you?” Saul’s face was a study in crimson, lost somewhere between crazy anger and pain.

  Mara risked a look at Sheppard. The sight of his pained face tugged at her heart and she turned back to Saul. “I helped them because it was the right thing to do.”

  “Being loyal to your people isn’t the right thing to do? You’ve spent your whole life with us and yet you betray your city in the end? Is that the right thing to do?”

  She didn’t know what to say. She stood, swooning in the heat, her arms limp at her sides.

  Sheppard stepped between them, planting his feet firmly and fighting the urge to sit down. “Your type of loyalty leaves a lot to be desired. You force them to a certain death and you call that loyalty? They are loyal to you, you betray them. In any case, forcing us to be a part of it all? How is that ‘the right thing’?”

  “Not death, Colonel. Ascension. I’m leading them to a better place, a better plane of existence.”

  Sheppard turned on Mara, took her by the shoulders. “You don’t believe that. You know what ascension meant to your ancestors. This isn’t that — this is suicide. This is giving up. You don’t have to die like this. You can come with us. You don’t have to stay.”

  “Have you ever believed in something so strongly that you’d give your life for it?” Mara’s eyes burned but no tears would come.

  “Of course.”

  “That’s how I feel, in a way. I feel like I’ve given my life already, and now it’s time to let it go. I’ve spent my life here, with Saul and the others. Together, we’ve spent our entire lives betting. We bet on everything. Games, chance, life, death…it’s all a gamble. Gambling is the only thing we know. But at the end of it all, the one thing that drives us is the biggest gamble of all — that there’s some sort of meaning in what we do. I think we lost that bet. I know there’s no ascension in this death, but for me — for us — ascension is a belief and a dream that died long ago. I believe we’re going to have to settle for peace.”

  He shook her a bit. It was enough to steal her breath in the heat. “But not now. Not this way!”

  “Maybe Saul is right. Maybe this is the right time and the right way. The gambit is over. There’s nothing left for us. Our way of life was empty even before Saul steered us toward the sun.”

  “Listen to her, Colonel. She speaks the truth.” Saul still looked tortured by the heat but beneath all that, there was a touch of arrogance, self-righteous indignation.

  “Come with us.” Sheppard’s eyes pleaded with her. “There’s a better life on the other side of that gate. A whole world. I can show you records of your people, the truth — the real truth. You just have to give me the chance to do it.”

  “There’s a better life on the other side of death, as well,” she said. “At least it won’t be more of this.”

  Sheppard searched her face but could find no shred of hope there. He nodded and let go of her. Mara stepped down to where Saul stood and let him put one sweat-slickened arm around her shoulders.

  “Be well, John Sheppard. And remember me.”

  Sheppard nodded, heaved a last, painful sigh. “Cumby,” he said, “dial us up.” She watched them go, one by one, to the safety of that other world. Ronon stepped through first, then Cu
mby. Sheppard went last, risking one last, agonized glance over his shoulder and pausing just before stepping through the gate. Then he lifted his hand to his head — a salute, she realized. But not for her; his gaze was fixed on the city — the final resting place of his fallen friends. “Dr. Rodney McKay, Teyla Emmagan,” he said. “We won’t forget you.”

  And then his eyes narrowed, peering into the distance, and his hand fell to his side. “What the hell…?”

  Chapter Thirty-three

  Lorne and his team waited. The gate stood idle but the Wraith were not. Someone on that hive ship knew the team was there, and anything that even smelled odd was going to be checked out thoroughly. Lorne had only one objective: defend the gate at all costs, and watch for the moment Sheppard’s team stepped through. They had no idea what they were crossing into, and it would be up to Lorne to provide cover fire.

  He tried to occupy his mind by counting the times Sheppard had saved his life. He wouldn’t let the Colonel down — couldn’t let him down. Lorne just prayed that Sheppard would show up soon, hopefully before the Wraith.

  The team was firmly ensconced in a small stand of trees just east of the gate. While the gate was clearly visible, it was some forty meters away. Standing out in the open was suicide. They could better defend the gate from the safety of the woods and, besides the cover, it offered shade. There was no way to know exactly how long they’d be there, and it was best to be prepared.

  Lorne heard a small noise, sort of a hum and a whine. He stood very still and listened; he knew the sound only too well.

  “Cover,” he barked. “Wraith incoming.”

  The dart dropped in over the tops of the trees, closely followed by a second. They cruised by very low, and Lorne knew they’d be scanning for intruders. They were well hidden, but all it would take was a small break in the foliage overhead to give away their position.

  “Stay down!” he hissed. He brought his gun up and held it ready, keeping a close watch on the trees, and listening for the next pass.

  A patrol of Wraith warriors in their odd helmets broke from the trees, and at that moment the two darts returned, soaring overhead and providing cover as the ground forces rushed forward. One of them must have seen something, because he waved the others forward and signaled to the darts. The darts banked and returned, sailing up over the trees and bearing down on the team. Their cover was blown.

  Lorne fired.

  The darts were a good hundred feet away. On a good day it was a nearly impossible shot, but he took it and somehow he managed to clip the left stabilizer. The craft wavered, engines screaming, and then careened off over their heads. The damage wasn’t enough to take it down, but it bought them some time. It turned in a wide, looping curve that brought it back on target.

  Gravel and Verdino knelt back to back and opened up on the remaining dart, the others busy holding off Wraith ground troops. There were only scouts so far, and they were holding back. Lorne concentrated. He took aim again, focusing on the first dart. The Wraith ship fired back; the shots glanced off of the trees behind them and sent a hail of bark into the air.

  The dart swept overhead again and another round rained down on them. The air filled with the acrid scent of burning foliage and melting sand. Lorne fired again. He squeezed off two carefully aimed bursts, and the front stabilizer spun off through the air and the pilot lost control. The dart spun and crashed in the woods behind them. Lorne smiled grimly and turned toward the second ship.

  Behind him, someone screamed. One of his men, a grizzled veteran named Simon, had been hit. He was rolling around on the ground and holding his shoulder. Smoke drifted up from his partially melted shirt and his face was a study in agony. Another man rushed in, grabbed him under his good arm and hauled him to the relative safety of the deeper woods.

  The remaining dart whipped around and bore down on the group, spinning into position to pin them between its line of fire and the encroaching ground troops.

  Lorne waved his arms furiously, firing as he spoke. “Fall back! Fall back! Take deeper cover.”

  They backpedaled into the woods, still firing. There were more darts now, and behind them a small fire had ignited, devouring the dead leaves and spiraling smoke up into the air.

  Lorne’s headset crackled, and he flinched. He hadn’t been watching the time. Reports were scheduled every twenty minutes. Woolsey must have opened the gate to get a signal through. The commander’s voice came across, a bit shrill.

  “What in God’s name is going on over there?”

  Lorne thought about ignoring the call. He knew Woolsey was likely to order them back, but he wasn’t ready to give up on Sheppard. He fired another burst.

  “We’re under attack, sir. I know we’re scheduled for a report, but you need to close that gate. We’re under fire from Wraith darts. There’s a hive ship about a mile from here.”

  “You aren’t equipped or manned to do battle on that scale. Get your team back to the gate. That’s an order, Major.”

  Lorne fired off a few well-placed shots but they had no effect other than to cause the probe to momentarily veer off course. “With all due respect, Sir, there’s no way. We’re currently cut off from the gate, and even if we weren’t, we haven’t spotted Colonel Sheppard’s team.”

  “It won’t do Sheppard and the others any good if you die before they come through the gate.”

  “It won’t do them any good if we tuck our tails and run — they’ll be walking into an ambush. And Colonel Sheppard can’t come through if you don’t close the gate.”

  Behind him, someone else screamed.

  The one remaining dart was firing on them from overhead. It had blasted a hole through the trees and was firing straight through it. From where it hovered, none of the men would get a clear shot. Lorne stepped out of the woods, standing in the open and planting his feet firmly in the grass. He knew he was risking being taken by the dart’s culling beam, but he needed a shot.

  He fired a single shot at the dart, and it zipped past, wheeling to turn on him. The Wraith pilot dropped a bit lower. Its culling beam activated, and it swooped straight at them. Lorne wasted no time. He blasted the thing with it everything he had. Someone stepped up beside him and also opened fire. It was Gravel. She stood her ground unflinchingly, and despite the danger of the moment, Lorne grinned.

  The dart withstood their fire for a few seconds and showed no sign of damage. Lorne and Gravel continued firing, and eventually the constant barrage of shots chipped away at the craft’s outer plating, opening a hole in its inner housing. Something leaked from the hole and the dart started to shift sideways as it passed, zigging and zagging closer to Lorne’s position. The pilot could have turned away and tried to make it back to the hive ship, but instead he drove straight at Lorne, still firing.

  The dart’s final shot struck the ground at Lorne’s feet, and he staggered back, grabbing Gravel by the arm and pulling her to safety. As he backed away, he continued to fire from his hip. He watched as the dart spun out of control. Apparently the pilot was finally attempting to flee the scene and escape to the safety of the hive ship. Then very suddenly the nose dipped, the ship whirled like a top and crashed into several treetops. About forty meters away, it hit the ground and exploded.

  A cheer rose from the embattled team and Lorne sprinted to where the two injured men rested against the trees.

  Verdino and Gravel helped the injured men back through the trees, concealing his position as well as possible. The rest of the team covered them, scanning the jungle for any lingering Wraith. The gate stood dormant.

  “Okay, Sheppard,” he muttered. “Any time now. Any time.”

  * * *

  Woolsey sat and stared at his console in frustration; he hated waiting. He hated not knowing what was going on. He hated that there was nothing more he could do to help.

  A young man tapped him on the shoulder, and he spun. “What is it?”

  “Mr. Woolsey, the Daedelus is hailing us.”

  “P
atch them through,” he said, grateful for the distraction. “Colonel Caldwell, I have to tell you — I could really use some good news.”

  “I’m afraid I don’t have good news, Woolsey. We can’t reach Admah in time. I’m afraid there’s nothing we can do.”

  Woolsey bit into his lip and slumped further. “Damn!” He paused for a moment, thinking. “Is there any way you can reach M3T-842? We have a team there waiting for Sheppard and his people to come through the gate. They might need some backup.”

  Caldwell’s voice was muffled as he spoke to his people. “We’re close,” he said. “And we’re on our way. Caldwell out.”

  Woolsey shut down the console and stood up again. At least help was on the way for Lorne and his team.

  “If that gate opens, send for me immediately,” he said. Then stiffly, as if he’d been through a fight, he walked from the room.

  Chapter Thirty-four

  Rodney clung to the reins, doing his best to help support Teyla, who was weak and having trouble remaining upright with one injured leg. The mechanical horse flew up the stairs as if it was climbing a gentle grassy slope. There was no hesitation, and there was no drop in speed, despite the steep incline and the tricky footing. All pursuit fell away behind them, and he knew if he could just keep them both mounted long enough to reach the upper level there was no way those coming up from behind could catch them

  He also noticed that it was hot. Very hot. The adrenalin of the initial charge was giving way to a queasy, sweaty haze that fogged his vision and slicked his hands. It was more difficult to grip the reins and his strength grew less with every passing moment. He wished he’d taken the time to find a drink, but back in the chamber, just off the arena, the heat hadn’t been as obvious. It had been warmer, but now they were approaching the surface of Admah. Nothing stood between them and the approaching sun but a steadily thinning atmosphere.

  The horse climbed the final few steps and leveled out.

  “Oh thank God,” Rodney said.