STARGATE SG-1 ATLANTIS: Homeworlds : Volume three of the Travelers' Tales (SGX Book 5)

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STARGATE SG-1 ATLANTIS: Homeworlds : Volume three of the Travelers' Tales (SGX Book 5) Page 15

by Sally Malcolm


  “I thought you said the city was destroyed years ago?” Lorne said as he took cover.

  Teyla joined them, keeping low. “How have they rebuilt so quickly?”

  “What?” Rodney yelled over the din of battle as he crawled towards Sheppard’s position. Looking back, he said, “Why hasn’t the gate shut down?”

  Sheppard just stared at the city. Many of the buildings were still undamaged, and a full scale battle was under way. Looking back to his team, he said, “This isn’t right.” Raising an eyebrow. “Rodney?”

  “What did I do?”

  Before Sheppard could respond, Ronon cursed, vaulted over the wall, and took off toward the city center.

  “Ronon!” Sheppard yelled. “Damn it!”

  There was nothing to do but go after him.

  Sheppard approached what looked like a warehouse district, soot and grit buffeting his skin as he ran. Many people lay dead from the orbital bombardment, while even more had been fed upon. The lone constant was that they were all dead. With a grim shake of his head, he ran past the skeletal corpse of a Satedan soldier. Clearly, the Wraith had already taken this part of the city. But several of the buildings still stood, relatively undamaged — had he missed this neighborhood the last time he was here?

  Catching a glimpse of Ronon disappearing around the corner at the far end of the street, he continued after him. They were behind enemy lines, so he couldn’t shout. Lorne and Teyla would keep Rodney’s voice down, too.

  Passing the remnants of an obliterated depot, he heard the distinctive sound of Ronon’s gun firing. He hurried through the smoke-filled rubble of a street that looked more like the Sateda he remembered and saw several Wraith drones, and a few warriors in black leather dusters, advancing on Ronon’s position. Sprinting the remaining fifty meters, he raised his weapon and readied himself for battle.

  Ronon was already locked in combat. Sword in one hand, gun in the other, he shot the first two Wraith, spun away from a stun beam and slashed through the throat of a third, nearly severing its head. Sheppard joined in, firing short bursts from his P90 into three more attackers. Ronon seemed intent on fighting through them; he clearly had somewhere he thought he needed to be.

  Teyla caught up with them and joined the fray, shooting a Wraith that had slipped behind Sheppard. “Ronon!” she shouted. “We must withdraw and regroup.”

  He didn’t seem to hear her.

  “Ronon!” Sheppard tried. “Are you trying to get us all killed? What are you doing?”

  He spun, plunged his sword into the abdomen of another Wraith. “Look around! They’re destroying my planet.”

  Sheppard cast a puzzled glance at Teyla; Sateda had been destroyed years ago. A half dozen Wraith charged their position, blue energy flaring past him. As he returned fire, Teyla dove out of the path of a dart’s culling beam and came up firing. The dart swung around for another pass but was hit by ground-based Satedan artillery.

  Ronon was a blur of motion, slashing and shooting his way through the hapless drones. Another squad of Wraith slowed his advance, and Teyla hurried to help dispatch them. Aerial fire continued to pummel the city, sending showers of debris raining down. Sheppard dodged another stunner blast before stopping to reload.

  Smoke billowed from the battered buildings surrounding them, shrouding Teyla who was fighting in close quarters with one of the warriors. Ronon slashed through another Wraith with a loud yell while Teyla finished off her foe. And then, for a moment, there were no more.

  “Ronon!” Sheppard yelled, watching the streets for more trouble. “Fall back to the gate. We need reinforcements. Woolsey will send the Daedalus.”

  Ronon stalked back toward Sheppard, thrusting his finger into his chest. “You don’t have a Daedalus yet.”

  “We don’t have a... What are you talking about?”

  “He’s right, Sheppard.” Rodney was bent over with his hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath.

  “What the hell are you talking about, McKay?”

  “Not what, when.” He looked pale. “Sheppard, I think this is the original attack on Sateda.”

  “Thirteen years in the past?” Lorne said. “That’s not possible.”

  “Solar flares, a glitchy Satedan gate — of course it’s possible. Colonel Sheppard’s already been to the future. Same thing happened to SG-1 when they were accidentally sent back to 1969.”

  “Rodney,” Sheppard said with a flare of annoyance, “what were those readings you found so interesting in the gate-room?”

  He looked uncomfortable. “Solar flares.”

  “Rodney!”

  “What? We gate out during solar flares all the time. It’s like a trillion to one chance that this could happen.”

  “Well, it did happen, didn’t it?” He huffed out a breath. “Fine. How do we get back?”

  “A good question,” Teyla said. “But maybe we should find a safer place to discuss it?”

  They took cover in the remains of a mechanic’s shop. Ronon paced back and forth like a caged predator, his mouth fixed in a thin impatient line. “I need to get out of here.”

  Rodney threw his hands up in warning. “Whoa — hold on. Whatever you’re thinking of doing it’s a bad idea.” Blanching from Ronon’s withering glare, he turned to Sheppard. “Look, we may have already altered the timeline just by setting Conan here on those Wraith.”

  “Killing Wraith is always a good idea,” Ronon said.

  “Normally, I’d agree with you. But what if one of those Wraith were destined to kill someone that would have betrayed humanity? Except now that guy gets to live and screw up the future because these Wraith weren’t alive to kill him before he could betray us all.”

  Sheppard shook his head. “We don’t know that’s gonna happen, Rodney.”

  “Exactly, we don’t know. We don’t know what will happen if Ronon runs into his younger self. Will one of them cease to exist? We don’t know what will happen if he saves some of his people, or if one of us dies here. All we know is that one wrong move could be the difference between us having an Atlantis to get back to or us screwing up the space time continuum.”

  “So, you want us to be bystanders while the Wraith destroy an entire planet?” Sheppard said. “I don’t think we can do that.”

  “Too bad, we have to. We could be mortgaging our future by meddling here.”

  “Look,” Ronon growled, “I don’t know how we got here, and I don’t care about the space time... whatever. I have someone I need to save. Now get out of my way!”

  Arms crossed, Rodney stuck out his chin. “No.”

  But Ronon just shoved him aside and started running.

  Ronon raced through the city with abandon. All he could think about was saving Melena. More orbital fire shook the ground as he crouched behind a wall, waiting for two approaching Wraith to get close enough for a quiet kill. A full swing severed the head of the first, while the second paused in surprise. His shock was quick to wear off as he ducked Ronon’s next swing and landed a blow to his chest, slowing him.

  Ronon flashed a feral smile as he whirled his sword in his hand and settled into a battle stance. Sheppard caught up to him and raised his weapon, but Ronon said, “No guns.”

  The Wraith used the opportunity to pounce, but Ronon was ready for him. Rolling through the Wraith’s attack, he thrust his sword behind him into the warrior’s midsection. Pulling the sword out, he spun and decapitated his injured foe.

  Teyla had come after him too. “Ronon, I know it is difficult, but we must not interfere here.”

  “I told you, I have someone to save.”

  “Melena?” Sheppard’s question drew a raised eyebrow from Teyla.

  “You can’t stop me,” Ronon said and adjusted his grip on his pistol.

  “No, I can’
t.” Sheppard gestured for Ronon to lead the way. “So let’s go.”

  “John,” Teyla said, “I do not think this is wise.”

  “She was his fiancée.”

  “But Rodney is right: the potential damage to our own future —”

  “Look, the way I see it, if we take her from here right to Atlantis in the future, there’s no way we can mess up the timeline. She won’t be alive and unsupervised, fiddling around for thirteen years, she’ll go straight from here to our future.” He looked at Ronon. “Maybe it’s the one thing we can do.”

  “I doubt it works that way,” Teyla said. “But I hope you are right.”

  Ronon was surprised. Not that he would have turned around if Sheppard had refused to help him, but he was glad to avoid a confrontation. And he was glad of Sheppard’s support — his friendship. With a nod of thanks, he turned down a deserted alley, stopping to make sure there were no Wraith in sight. The avenue had taken very little damage and served as a poignant reminder of what his life had once been. When he first enlisted in the military, he had lived in a red-brick building much like the ones that lined these streets. Pushing thoughts of the past from his mind, he turned and said, “This way.”

  They followed him through the city until their path was blocked by a cluster of Wraith. Ducking behind a building, he motioned for Sheppard and Teyla to be still. Sweat trickled down his neck as he cast a covert glance around the corner. “That’s the Council Hall,” he said. “I think they’re using it for a base of operations. We need to find another way around.”

  Leading them back down the alley, they passed two intersections before he ushered them into a vacant building.

  “Where are we going?” Sheppard asked.

  “There’s an access tunnel under this warehouse. It’s a straight run past the Council Hall.”

  Teyla followed them into the expansive structure. Exposed steel girders held corrugated sheet metal walls while scattered crates and pallets littered the cement floor, but it was clear that no one had occupied this space for quite some time. “What about the Wraith? Do they know of this tunnel? I do not relish the idea of being trapped underground by the Wraith.”

  “I think they are still a couple days away from discovering our tunnel system.” Ronon threw a pallet aside and opened a hatch.

  “You think?” Sheppard eyed the hatch dubiously.

  “It’ll be fine.”

  Ronon dropped down the ladder into the tunnel and, after a hesitation, Sheppard followed. They waited for Teyla to close the hatch behind her before they took off at a run, the flashlight on Sheppard’s weapon lighting the way.

  After a few minutes, Ronon heard Satedan voices coming from an intersection in the tunnel several meters away. He dropped flat. Teyla followed suit while Sheppard extinguished his light and hunkered down next to them.

  “All I am saying is Kell had the right idea, leaving before the Wraith showed up.” Two soldiers, carrying a large crate, appeared at the intersection and turned left without noticing their uninvited guests.

  “Maybe,” the second man said, “but he’s one of our best and we could use him right now.”

  “We could use a miracle right now,” said the first. “Let’s just get this ammo to the front line.”

  They picked up the pace and hurried down the passageway.

  “That was close,” Sheppard murmured once they’d gone, pushing back to his feet. “Which way now?”

  “Up,” Ronon said, chancing a look around the intersection to make sure no one else was approaching. “Third ladder along will bring us out in a warehouse close to the hospital.”

  He led the way, Teyla keeping pace as they jogged down the empty tunnel. When they reached the ladder she put a hand on Ronon’s arm, stopping him before he could climb. “Ronon,” she said, “are you certain Melena is still alive?”

  “I remember this day like it was yesterday.” Every second was etched into his memory. “I still have a few hours to save her.”

  Sheppard looked as if he wanted to say something but didn’t know how to broach the topic. Ronon let go of the ladder and said, “What?”

  “I was just thinking, if you couldn’t get her to leave with you last time, how are you going to do it this time?”

  Brandishing his weapon, he said, “I didn’t have a stun setting last time.” He didn’t wait for a reply, climbing the ladder and stealing out into another dark warehouse.

  “The fighting sounds heavy outside,” Teyla whispered from behind him.

  It did. Through a broken window he could see a pitched battle underway, dozens of Wraith overwhelming a troop of Satedan forces.

  Ronon unsheathed his weapons. “I’m not asking you to come,” he said, and strode into battle without a backward glance.

  Rodney followed Lorne through several blocks of destruction. He heard shouting and gunfire, but it was always in the distance, like a dream where he was continuously running towards something but never quite got there.

  All around, the city was in ruins. Bodies, turned to husks by the Wraith, littered the ground and the stink of death hung heavy in the air. Lorne stopped and dropped into a crouch behind the remains of a wall, motioning Rodney to do the same.

  “What? What’s happening?”

  Lorne pressed his finger to his lips and crouched lower. Rodney was about to speak again but was met with a glare. The reason became obvious as three Wraith warriors sauntered by. Lorne had his P90 ready as Rodney prayed they remained unseen.

  Stopping in the middle of the pockmarked street, the Wraith searched the area. Lorne hefted his weapon a little higher behind their meager cover as the Wraith turned in their direction. Gripping his own weapon tighter, Rodney tried to take a steadying breath; battle seemed inevitable. Then a burst of heavy artillery fire in the distance drew the Wraith’s attention.

  A tense moment passed until the Wraith turned and headed toward the explosions. Once they were gone, Lorne stood. With a flash of annoyance he said, “How many years have you been in the field?”

  The question struck Rodney as odd in light of the circumstances. “Almost six, why?”

  “Six years,” he repeated with a scowl. “How is it that in six years a genius like you hasn’t figured out that when you’re in a warzone and the man in front of you stops short, you should probably be quiet?”

  “Well excuse me for not being captain commando. I don’t see you wading through the Ancient database for anything that might be useful to Atlantis.”

  “It’s not about intelligence, McKay, it’s about common sense.” He turned and continued through the rubble.

  “You know what is about intelligence? Figuring out how we’re going to get home,” he replied, nursing his bruised ego. “So can we just find somewhere safe to hide so that I can, you know, do that?”

  “Working on it.”

  “Work faster, Major.”

  They continued on through the devastation. Building after building had been reduced to charred foundations and twisted girders. Plumes of smoke rose from everywhere, making breathing a chore. But Lorne led him into a small structure. The walls had taken significant damage, part of the roof had caved in, and a few tools scattered amid the rubble suggested it had once been a hardware store.

  “Look for a hatch or a stairwell,” Lorne said.

  “Why?”

  “The foundation feels sturdy. If there’s a basement, we should be safe for a little while.”

  “Right. Good thinking.” Searching the other side of the store, he took care as he moved larger items and fallen shelves out of his way. Finally, he reached a door and shoved it open. “Major,” he called in a loud whisper. “I’ve got a stairwell here.”

  Lorne took point, switching on his weapon’s flashlight as they descended the gloomy stairs. The basement was p
acked with crates full of tools and building supplies. Lorne navigated the narrow aisles between stacks of crates until he arrived at a small area that had been cleared out. Two chairs and a table sat next to a sink, opposite a brown couch. “Looks like a breakroom of some sort,” he said as he slung his backpack onto the table, raising a small cloud of dust. “You can work on what went wrong with the gate while I scout the area.”

  “You’re leaving? I think that’s a bad idea.”

  “I just need to make sure we’re not stuck in the middle of a thousand Wraith. I also want to leave some bread crumbs for Colonel Sheppard.”

  “Ooh, breadcrumbs. That reminds me, I’ve only got two protein bars with me. Did you bring extra?”

  “Looks like you’ll be starving ‘til you get us home. I’ll be back in twenty.”

  “Fine, just don’t lead any Wraith back here.”

  “I have done this before,” Lorne replied as he disappeared behind the crates.

  Opening a protein bar, McKay said to himself, “Now, let’s figure out how we get home.”

  He’d been working for some time, absorbed in the problem, when voices in the store above caused him to stop cold. He stared at the ceiling. “Don’t come down here. Don’t come down here. Don’t come down here.”

  Gunfire.

  He flinched, ducking involuntarily. Had someone decided to make his haven their last stand? The deep boom of Satedan weapons mixed with the higher pitched stunners while McKay looked for a place to hide. Somehow he didn’t think under the table would cut it.

  Soon, he heard screaming mixed with Wraith growling, and he grimaced at the thought of what was happening above. The gunfire grew more sporadic until he heard the familiar tat-tat-tat of a P90 firing controlled bursts. Lorne.

  Crap. He couldn’t hide down here while Lorne was fighting. Could he? No. No, he couldn’t.

  Taking a deep breath, he trudged up the stairs to back Lorne up. Taking the last bite of his protein bar — he tried not to think of it as his last meal — he burst through the door with a yell. Then dove for cover as a triple-barrel shotgun swung his way.

 

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