The triangle of men turned slowly, weapons raised, though in truth, Sheppard knew they would do none of them any good. Framed in each of the doorways, dwarfing the pairs of Haradian soldiers who had spilled, quite suddenly, into the room, stood the menacing bulk of masked Wraith warriors.

"Colonel, you have to listen to me," Radek's accented voice chattered quickly in his ear, "I discovered that the reason the gates were disengaging when the PO signal was sent, was that a clearance code was being requested on an upstream data transfer. The signal is Wraith in origin, I repeat, the signal is—"

"You probably aren't aware of the idiom that mentions stable doors and horses bolting," Sheppard answered lazily, keeping himself ready over his weapon.

"Excuse me?"

Sheppard opened his mouth to answer the scientist, but movement from the council room's main entrance had him wheel around quickly to bring himself to face that way. The two Wraith warriors guarding the entrance moved aside to allow a new trio to enter. Two further Wraith, obviously commanders of some sort, swept into view, and between them shuffled an elderly, wizened creature. As the figure came closer, Sheppard realised it was a woman, ancient, twisted and deformed. She stopped as she came almost within reach.

"I strongly suggest that you cease communication with your companions," she said. Her voice was like the scuttle of chitinous feet over dry paper. "It would also be wise to surrender your weapons to my escort." She gestured with her hands toward the two Wraith commanders at her side.

"I don't think so," Sheppard said, with a thin smile. "Thank you though… for the advice, I mean."

She let out a hissing chuckle. "So this is the famous Colonel John Sheppard of Atlantis."

"The one and only," he answered, then turned his head as she all but scuttled to the one side of him, where Ronon stood, still menacing the Wraith with his blaster.

"And this must be the runner, Ronon Dex," she tilted her head first one way and then the other, "Such a pity the excesses of one Commander would deny us such an… interesting specimen."

Ronon growled and took a step in her direction, to meet face to face with one of the commanders at her side. The two sneered at each other, menacing each other with weapon and the threat of feeding, as was in their nature. After a moment or two, the crone waved away the Wraith with a flick of her skeletal hand, continuing to circle around Sheppard and the others until she came to Rodney's side.

"And you must be…" she faltered, tilting her head first one way, and then the other, and frowning in confusion.

"Oh great," McKay began to complain. "Typical! Always the genius that gets forgotten… I'll have you know, I—"

"Not so," the Hag whispered, stepping closer to McKay. "We hold those with minds such as yours in high regard, Doctor McKay."

"On the other hand," McKay squeaked, backing up a little, "Sometimes there's nothing wrong with being anonymous."

The same sibilant chuckle issued from between her cracked paper lips until she came full circle to face Sheppard once more.

"Arrangements?" Sheppard frowned, quickly putting the pieces together. "If you mean having your worshippers here terrorising the neighbouring community then—"

"The blood of the girl was all over your ship!" one of the commanders interjected, falling silent again at a glance from the Hag.

"Our ship?" McKay frowned too, and then turned a little to half face Sheppard. "The Jumper? How the hell did they find the Jumper, it was cloaked?"

"I don't know," Sheppard answered him quickly from the side of his mouth, "And it hardly matters now." He turned his attention back to the old woman and almost without drawing breath said, "We had nothing to do with the girl."

"The evidence says otherwise," she countered. "And now you are discovered."

For just a moment she bowed her head, and closed her eyes, but when she opened them again, they were full of ancient fire and alive with fury, and the voice that issued from her lips was not her own.

"Bring them to me!"

**

It happened so quickly and they were not at all prepared. The first shot took Saudin in the back of the neck and he fell instantly, but his sacrifice allowed Halling to roll aside, and to take up his own weapon in readiness for the coming assault.

At first, they were at a disadvantage, the gathering gloom was punctuated with flashes of brightness as the aggressors came in, firing their weapons as they moved. The Athosian warriors, armed with their traditional weapons, had to duck and weave, seeking cover in the underbrush as they attempted to make their own push towards them. Halling knew though, that once the gap had been closed, the battle would be equal.

He barely managed to dodge aside as the ground beside him erupted in a cloud of mud and scorched vegetation. Cursing, he kicked at the end of a nearby fallen branch to send it spinning up into his hand, and barely pausing to take his aim, he launched it toward the direction from which the deadly shots were coming. For a moment they paused. The moment was all he needed.

He sprinted forward, launched himself after the wooden missile and connected solidly with his attacker, rolling a little to cushion himself against the impact. Before his attacker could recover, he closed his hand around the other man's wrist, preventing him from firing at close quarters, and then began to beat the hand that was holding the weapon against the ground. It became a low fight, and dirty. Halling grunted as his opponent flailed his free hand, made a fist of it, and punched him hard in the small of the back. He tried to shut out the sounds of the fight around him; to concentrate and focus on his own battle, but hearing the cries, and knowing that at least some of them came from his fellow Athosians, the task he set himself was a hard one. It was, however, one that he could not afford to fail.

From the corner of his eye he saw that his prisoners, Michael's hybrid soldiers, fared a little better in the fight, having somehow freed themselves in the confusion. They would take advantage of the situation, he knew, and they would leave, though he doubted their reception on their return would be a very warm one. Let them go then, and good riddance, he thought to himself, though a large part of him wished he could follow and allow them to lead him to where Michael held Teyla.

**

"What were those things?" Ynek huddled against the back wall of the cell into which they'd all been pushed, presumably while the Wraith arranged their transportation.

"You mean to tell me," growled Ronon, still attempting to work at opening the door, "you've never seen them before?"

"The Hag, yes," Ynek said. "It is she that comes to our village whenever it is time for the Choosing, but those others…" he shivered. "…such creatures I have never seen."

"Those, my friend, are Wraith." McKay informed him with mock cheerfulness. "A more dangerous group of people you'll never— actually scratch that. By now, Michael and his followers are probably equally if not more dangerous than the Wraith and—"

"The important thing for you to know," Sheppard broke in on McKay's ramblings, "Is that the Wraith are creatures that feed on the life force of people like you and me, and it looks like your 'friends,' the Haradians, are in point of fact Wraith Worshippers."

"Worshippers?" Ynek frowned as he turned toward Sheppard.

Ynek shook his head. "I do not understand," he said.

"Never mind," said Ronon, irritably. Unable to open the door, he moved away from it to throw himself into the corner of the room. "Bottom line for you and your people is that the Haradians have been using you for all of these years in order to keep themselves from suffering at the hands of the Wraith."

"Just like Miran's visitor told to him," Ynek murmured in shocked surprise.

"About that," Sheppard started.

"I have already told you everything I know," Ynek said. "But everything he told to Miran has turned out to be the truth. The Hag, and the Haradians with her, do the bidding of these creatures, and so must bring the ones they take from our village to them here. Our entire lives have been lived under a lie, and for that lie and the revealing of it I have lost two of my closest friends!"

"Easy," Sheppard put a hand onto Ynek's shoulder. "Let's focus on trying to get out of here. Then we can think about getting even. Ronon?"

Sheppard nodded toward the door, tacitly asking for his opinion.

"There's no way we're getting through that door," Ronon answered. "It might look like a simple door, but there's some kind of magnetic locking mechanism, electronic or something."

"McKay?" Sheppard turned to the scientist.

"Do I look like MacGyver?" McKay answered testily, but nevertheless he started toward the door to take a look.

**

"It's no good, I can't raise them," Zelenka turned in exasperation toward Woolsey as he failed to receive even a test 'ping' from the Alpha team's radio equipment.

"What exactly did he say the last time you spoke to him?" Woolsey asked urgently.

"I don't know. He was rambling," Zelenka answered, "I tried to tell him about the Wraith but he was saying something about stables, and horses. What?" He frowned in confusion as a look of horror crossed Woolsey's face as he unfolded the tale.

"He was telling you he already knew about the Wraith," Woolsey turned to one of the technicians, "Instruct Bravo team to get themselves ready for a ground assault…" he started to turn back toward the bewildered Czech, but then added, "And have as many Jumper pilots as we can muster stand ready for air support."

"What did I do?" Zelenka asked, becoming more dismayed by the moment.

"It's not your fault," Woolsey said, turning back to him then, "I should have remembered that idiom is one of the last competencies to be mastered in a second language."

"Idiom? Colonel Sheppard used that word as well," Zelenka said as the control room came alive around him.

"He was implying that you telling him about the Wraith was like closing the door to the stable after the horses had already escaped. In other words, he already knew about the Wraith—"

"…because he was already their prisoner," Zelenka slapped himself across the forehead, his brilliant mind catching on very quickly. "Oh my God!"

"Never mind that," Woolsey answered, "Can you still dial the gate?"

"Provided the Wraith haven't dialled out to block any incoming wormhole, yes. I rigged a system to send the requested clearance code that was hidden in the subspace signature of the incoming wormhole from when Bravo team returned from the planet the first time."

"Good." Woolsey sighed, "As soon as Bravo team and the Jumper pilots are ready, dial M3X-667. Looks like it's down to us to pull Sheppard's ass out of the fire… again."

**

Sheppard walked away from where he'd been watching over McKay's shoulder and made his way toward where Ronon sat brooding in the corner of the room, leaving the scientist to work uninterrupted and in peace.

"What's bothering you?" he asked as he lowered himself to sit beside the Satedan.

"Why." Ronon answered.

"Because you've been sitting there and have hardly said a word sin—"

"No, 'why.' 'Why' is what's bothering me," Ronon corrected him. "If it was one of Michael's people that warned Ynek's people about what was going on and gave them the means to contact us, why? Why now and why here?"

"Well, because…" Sheppard started, but he found that he could no more answer the question than he suspected Ronon could.

"It's not as if it's even that unusual to find a community of Wraith worshippers on an outlying planet. People are doing anything and everything to escape the culling," Ronon continued, thinking out aloud. "No. There's something else. Something we're missing. What's here that Michael wants us to find out about?"

"Or what is he trying to draw us away from?" Sheppard put in his own thoughts to the mix.

"Maybe," McKay piped up from the doorway as he worked, "he's just trying to get us caught in a battle with the Wraith to let us destroy one another and make his job that much easier. Have you ever thought of that?"

"That's not his style," Sheppard shook his head. "Maybe as a secondary consequence, to cover his ass while he slips away unnoticed, sure. But not like this. Not so deliberately as this."

"Who is this 'Michael' of whom you speak?" Ynek looked over at Sheppard and fixed him with a querying look.

Sheppard sighed, unsure of how to answer that, to remain honest without tainting the way Ynek thought of them.

"He's a megalomaniac," Ronon answered for him, "A lunatic who thinks he's going to take over the galaxy and rule like some kind of god. He's dangerous."

"Actually—" Rodney turned his head from what he was doing, his fingers still working to manipulate the circuitry that he'd managed to expose.

"Rodney," Sheppard started to cut him off, but a loud fizzling sound, followed by the audible click of the lock disengaging did the job for him, as McKay let out a delighted little laugh.

"I did it!" he exclaimed in disbelief.

Sheppard jumped quickly to his feet, Ronon at his side, and went to open the door, before whatever McKay had done could reverse itself. He carefully looked first one way and then the other.

"Coast is clear… where do you think they've put our weapons and gear?"

"My guess would be this way," Ronon said, and took off before Sheppard could caution him for stealth. Sheppard looked at Ynek, meaning to ask him to follow. Ynek shook his head.

"You go," he said softly, "Now that I know the truth, I must stay and find my people."

**

"We have a lock on Colonel Sheppard's locator beacon," Zelenka announced, as calmly as he could, as he sat in the co-pilot's seat of Major Hollick's Jumper. "There's what appears to be some kind of settlement not far from the gate."

"Any sign of the Wraith?" Woolsey asked, concern making his voice sound brittle.

"Not yet, we— wait… wait, yes. I'm picking up several energy signatures. They're Wraith!"

"Woolsey, this is Hollick," the Major cut in on Zelenka's nervousness.

"Go ahead," Woolsey answered.

"Looks like the Wraith may not be our only problem," he said. "Sensors are also picking up signs of battle – isolated pockets of weapons' fire. We'll be flying through those areas to get to Colonel Sheppard's position."

"That can't be helped, Major," Woolsey said.

"Sir, if any of that weapons' fire hits the Jumper, it could knock out our cloak, our weapons… we could be rendered non-operational."

"That's as may be, but our first priority is to find Sheppard and the others and render assistance. Do whatever you need to do, but find the colonel."

"Understood, sir," Major Hollick ended his communications link and grumbled softly to himself. It was only seconds later that the Jumper rocked under a sudden impact. Zelenka grabbed for the sides of the console, to steady himself, and he too began bemoaning their fate.

Several more impacts followed in the wake of the first and it soon became apparent that someone was firing at them.

"How are they seeing us?" Zelenka asked. He was speaking mostly to himself as he pulled up a display on the tablet he had plugged into the main sensors. Then he swore and started to get out of his seat.

"What it is, Zelenka?" Major Hollick demanded, fighting with the Jumper to keep it level, while taking a deliberately erratic flight path to deter the aim of their attacker.

"The first shot fried several of the minor circuits of our starboard drive pod. They're following our smoke trail." Zelenka answered, heading to the rear of the Jumper to activate the fire suppression system manually.

"Ah, hell!" the Major swore.

"It's not the end of the world, Major, don't worry," he said, without turning around.

"Fire's the least of our worries, Doctor," the Major retorted, and even as Radek turned to see what he was talking about, the major keyed his transmit button. "All units, be advised, we have incoming. Wraith darts – seven of them."

**

Ronon rounded the corner and almost ran straight into a pair of Wraith warriors. He managed to duck aside as the first of them took a shot and it skittered harmlessly along the wall. The big Satedan shifted his weight and lashed out with his foot, catching the Wraith warrior with a solid kick to the middle of his chest. He quickly grabbed the arm of the second and, spinning him around, smashed his face into the wall until the Wraith could no longer stand.

"Search quickly," he yelled back toward the others, "We've got company!"

He snatched the weapon from the fallen Wraith's hand and began to back up, firing at the oncoming group of warriors – four of them now, come to join their companions in the fight.

The unmistakable sound of a Dart flying overhead rumbled the walls around them as he reached the others, and pushed a startled Ynek into the lea of a doorway just as one of the leading Wraith warriors fired blind around a turn in the corridor.

"We need to find another way out of here," he told Sheppard unnecessarily. His friend was already turning to take the other direction.

"I found it!" McKay's shout came from the far end of the corridor, though the rest of what he said was drowned out by an explosion from the courtyard outside.

Sheppard turned his head to momentarily grin at Ronon. "I think maybe the cavalry has arrived."

Ronon made no reply, only shook his head, and pushed past his friend and into the room where McKay was triumphantly displaying their weapons. The rest of their equipment lay on a bench that ran the length of the room. Quickly Ronon snatched up his blaster, and Sheppard's P90, tossing it quickly to his fellow expedition member.

"Now all we need is a way out of here," he said pointedly. He flattened himself against the door and took several shots along the corridor in the direction from which they came.

Rodney gestured to a small terminal set against the far wall. "I may be able to help with that," he said, and headed that way to try and find the information that would get them out of their current, troubled, position and download the information onto his ever present tablet.

"Help quickly," Sheppard instructed, and stepped out into the corridor, firing his P90 in the wake of Ronon's shots.

**

They were following the trail left by the fleeing hybrids, trying to avoid the armed men that they assumed were locals, but the closer they got to the settlement, the more difficult that had become and they had found themselves, like now, caught in one skirmish after another. Then suddenly there were Wraith. It was as if they had crawled from the woodwork of the town, like cockroaches, Halling thought. He had seen no Wraith hive darken the sky above, nor had he yet heard the high pitched, irritating whining of Darts. All he knew was that the Wraith were there, and that they were as dangerous as he had ever seen.

After that, the fighting had gone from bad to worse. The natives, fighting against Halling and his men, were caught between the Athosians and the Wraith, and to Halling's dismay had turned on the Athosians, rather than what he considered was the greater threat. Only in the course of the battle had he come to understand why.

"Wraith Worshippers!" he shouted in warning to his companions, and redoubled his effort against the wiry man who had, even now, wrestled him to the ground. Twisting and turning under the man, he managed to get himself free enough to raise his knee against the man's back and send him sprawling to the ground. It gave him time enough to find his feet, while his opponent did the same, and ready himself for the attack he knew would follow.

The man fought hard, giving no quarter, lashing out again and again, and not all of the jabs and punches missed their mark. Halling tried to block and answer the attacks, but he was tiring. It had been a long and physically demanding day.

An explosion shook the ground under Halling's feet and threw him toward his opponent, who likewise staggered and then looked around in surprise as, apparently from beneath the foothills themselves, like a swarm of angry mosquitoes, several Wraith darts had taken to the sky. At first they flew, arrow swift, overhead toward the location of the stargate, but then many of them turned in the air, and began to head back toward the settlement, firing as they came.

Halling ducked another wild swing by his opponent, at the same time trying to keep himself out of the path of the overhead Wraith Dart that had begun, as its companion vessels, making indiscriminate strafing runs at both the position of his Athosian warriors, and also at the settlement they had been approaching.

Mistaking the sudden desperation in his opponent's attacks as an assignation of blame, he called breathlessly into the fight, "You cannot blame me for this… This," he gestured with his head toward the bombardment that was occurring, "this is the way of the Wraith."

**

"I'm telling you, it's this way," McKay told Sheppard as they ducked around turn after turn in the maze of tunnels, now formed of natural rock, that they had taken away from the Haradian settlement.

"At least we lost the Wraith," Ronon chipped in.

"Lost them or blasted them," Sheppard replied, as he glanced at his Satedan friend. Then he turned irritably back toward McKay, "Rodney, where the hell are we?"

"I told you," McKay snapped back, "These tunnels lead directly into the caves in the mountain behind the Haradian settlement. Any minute now, we—"

"Rodney?" Sheppard didn't like the way he suddenly broke off. "McKay, talk to me."

"I think maybe we took a wrong turn," McKay answered breathlessly.

"What do you mea—?"

Sheppard broke off as he pushed past McKay out of the end of the narrow rock corridor. "Oh crap! Please tell me this is some kind of… joke."

"Well, we…" McKay started to answer, "we know that these people are Wraith worshippers, and… the Wraith will want somewhere they feel comfortable, won't they, so…"

McKay's voice trailed off as Sheppard gave him a look, and then took a hesitant step or two further into the chamber beyond where they stood. It was an unwelcome sight and yet almost as familiar as his own quarters – the sinuous walls, like darkened blood, and veined as though alive.

"McKay!" Ronon barked out a warning that made McKay jump and also pulled Sheppard out of his dark thoughts. He half turned to face Ronon, until he realised that the tracking device that the scientist held limply in his hand had started to bleep quietly.

McKay raised his hand until he could see the display and then announced, in a harsh whisper, "Three of them… coming this way."

"Get us out of this, McKay," Sheppard ordered and, gesturing to the three corridors that led away from the chamber, asked, "Which way?"

A moment passed before McKay tugged on his arm and nodded toward one of them, letting him take the front, while Ronon took point.

"Talk about 'out of the frying pan,'" he said quietly as he led the way further in, along corridors that were clearly no longer rock tunnels in the mountain. "This must be another facility like we found before… part of the landscape for god knows how long."

"Doesn't really matter, does it," Ronon growled from the rear. "It's Wraith, and we need to find a way out."

**

They had broken through at last. Found space to breathe and time to rest away from battle and from the constant threat of the Wraith. Halling did not know what had changed to draw the battle away from the chase he and his fellow Athosians made, but he was glad of it.

He took a deep breath, leaning against a nearby try as one of his men scoured the ground around them for clues, trying to straighten the facts that he knew, to make sense of them. What was here that could possibly have interested Michael? The local people, though Wraith worshippers, were unremarkable, and did not seem to possess any particular technology or gift, other than whatever the Wraith had rewarded them with. The landscape too, seemed ordinary. Nothing he had seen gave him cause to believe there was anything here that could be the reason for their presence.

"They doubled back," the voice of his companion interrupted his thoughts. "No doubt they are returning to the gate."

"Then that is where we must go," he answered, but even as he spoke, he knew they had little to no chance of catching up with them.

**

"This place is incredible," McKay looked up from his hand held device and fixed him, and then Ronon with an astonished expression. "It's huge!"

"Well, I'm sure that’s all very fascinating," Sheppard answered, "but what we need is a way out of here."

"And quickly," Ronon added.

"I'm working on it," McKay said, turning down another corridor. "It's just fascinating to see another of these facilities, I mean…" he turned again, still following directions on the device, "…it's no wonder they defeated the Ancients, outnumbered them I mean – with a facility like this at their disposal – I mean, who knows, this could even be their primary facility. The possibilities are endless. They— whoa!"

Sheppard repeated McKay's "whoa!" as they came into the huge chamber. Easily the size of a football stadium, quite possible half as large again, and floor to ceiling it was filled with pods. The more disturbing was that each of the pods showed the faint silhouette of a Wraith occupant.

"Something tells me this is not the way out," Sheppard breathed. "Rodney…!"

"Yeah… yeah, yeah, right…" McKay snapped out of his shocked stupor and once more consulted the tracking device in his hands. "Oh I see where we went wrong," he pointed behind him, "Back there, we took the leftmost fork when we should have taken the one next to it. That one leads to the outer wall of the facility." He started to walk back in that direction, shaking his head. "Amazing…"

Sheppard couldn't help but look back over his shoulder as he left the room to follow McKay and Ronon. So many Wraith… here, in hibernation, or still growing or… whatever the hell they were doing. It made every muscle in his body tighten just to think on it, and what it might mean.

"We'll come up on another large chamber just up ahead. We have to go through it to get to where we're going." McKay said cheerfully, "and then it's almost a straight shot to—"

He stopped speaking when Ronon grabbed him by the shoulder and pulled him against the bulkhead wall, holding him there for a moment as he walked past. His steps were slow.

"What the hell is that?" Ronon said, looking up at the structure that graced the middle of the otherwise almost empty chamber. The dome shaped end of the structure was lighted with a faint orange glow, and constituted the end of a many facetted appendage that was bulbous and cylindrical. It was suspended from high in the darkness overhead, over an ovoid bed of a similar glowing redness that looked, for all the world, like an open suppurating sore. From its bulk ran thick, sinewy tendrils that ran to each of the walls – huge cable like lines.

At the base of the structure was a console, with two others that stood at the far side of the glowing pit beneath the dome. Frowning, Rodney approached it. Sheppard peered over his shoulder as he tried to make sense of the Wraith text scrolling over its small screen.

There was a sudden pulse, a change in the level of light from the end of the dome, and through the soles of his boots, Sheppard could feel a distinct vibration.

"Oh," McKay said, with an unmistakable tone of worry in his voice, "Oh no."

"Rodney, what did you do?" Sheppard growled.

"Nothing. I mean… I didn't do anything. It wasn't me…" McKay stammered. "It did it by itself, I mean…"

"What's going on?" Ronon asked, still watching the structure, and the glow that was coming from the end of the dome, and getting brighter.

"This isn't a Wraith genetic facility," McKay said, beginning to back away from the console, the horrified astonishment escalating in his voice with every word. "Not just a laboratory at all… it's a ship – a Hive… no, the mother of all Hives…"

Sheppard grabbed his arm, and started to heave him towards the exit on the far side of the chamber as he noticed that of a sudden, more of the lights on the console were flashing. "And it looks like it just got a wake-up call." he said urgently, "We have to leave. Now!"

"I'm right behind you," Ronon rumbled as the three of them made a desperate run for the doorway. Sheppard could definitely feel it now, the vibration through his feet – the humming of the ship's active status, like a heartbeat, or the pulse of the flow of blood through veins.

"How could I have been so stupid?" McKay whined as he hurried along beside Sheppard.

"Save the recriminations for when we get out of here," Sheppard snapped as they came to a junction in the corridor. "Which way?"

"Left," McKay said automatically, then quickly amended, "No, no, no – right. Go right."

"Left or Right, McKay – which is it?" Ronon asked, pulling his blaster, as all around them the waking ship began to be filled with waking Wraith.

"Right," McKay all but shouted, "I said right!"

Without waiting any longer, Sheppard gave another tug on McKay's arm and then set off along the hallway on the right. Part way down the corridor he spotted movement and, without waiting to see how many Wraith they were about to run into, he fired his P90 as they ran, feeling the heat of the shots from Ronon's blaster scorching his hair as he too fired to clear their way.

Their luck held. With the ship, and the Wraith within both in the process of waking after their long sleep, they were both sluggish. The combination of good old-fashioned percussion rounds, and Ronon's high energy weapon kept their pathway clear of Wraith, but one more obstacle remained in their path.

"Rodney, you better think of a way to get us out, once we reach the outer wall," Sheppard called back.

"According to the scans I took, this corridor should lead to another chamber like the one we came in on." McKay said breathlessly as he hurried to keep up.

"Yeah, well, with the ship awake and likely preparing for takeoff I wouldn't count on that any more." Sheppard retorted.

"Then what do we do?" McKay asked, panic colouring his voice.

"I don't know," Sheppard answered, skidding to a halt in a chamber that was as dead an end as ever he'd seen one. "You're the 'go-to' guy, so… go… to…!" he pointed to the far wall, where he assumed McKay's former exit would have been, while he took up a position in order to be able to defend against entry from two of the corridors that led out of the chamber. Ronon came to his side, turned so that he could do so for the remaining corridor.

"Here they come," Ronon warned softly.

"Work quickly, Rodney!" Sheppard called, and leaning over his P90 he began firing.

**

"What the hell…" Major Hollick quickly banked the Jumper as a large chunk of the mountainside came sailing toward his forward screen.

"Oh my God," Zelenka gasped, "it's a Hive ship."

"The mountain is a ship?" the major asked incredulously.

"No. Inside the mountain is the ship. The magnetic properties of the rocks were masking it – preventing it from being picked up by our scanners," the scientist corrected him.

"And that's where Colonel Sheppard and the others were heading when you lost their signals?"

"I can only assume that their signals were also masked by the rocks, but… yes… yes, there they are, see…" he pointed at a spot on the HUD. "Now that there's a break in the rock for our sensors to penetrate…"

"That puts them inside the Hive," Hollick pointed out, and tried again to get in contact with Sheppard even as Zelenka answered him.

"Then we have to find a way to get them out of there. And fa—" Zelenka fell back in his seat and shielded his eyes against the bright flash that came from the side of the rising Hive ship.

**

Sheppard slapped another magazine home and resumed firing, his shots given counterpoint by the high pitched, musical sound of Ronon's blaster.

"McKay!" he shouted urgently.

"I'm going as fast as I can," McKay threw back at him, "but nothing's working. It's as thought the ship knows what I'm trying to do and is countering every bypass I ma—"

An explosion shook the chamber, and Rodney was thrown past him to slide across the floor and slam, stunned into the wall. At the same time, static burst into Sheppard's ear, eventually resolving itself into the urgent voice of Major Hollick.

"—pard this is Hollick, please respond,"

More urgent, however, was the sudden rush of air from out of the ship as it began to depressurise through the hole that had suddenly appeared in the side of the bulkhead wall. Ronon caught hold of Rodney as he started to slide toward that hole, but in truth they were none of them safe. Even at this relatively low altitude, explosive decompression was bad news.

At least, as they had closed the internal doors to protect themselves and the rest of the ship from the loss of atmosphere, the Wraith were no longer an issue. He braced himself as best he could, and keyed his earpiece, shouting above the rush of the wind.

"Hollick, this is Sheppard, where are you?"

"Right outside, sir," Hollick answered, almost calmly.

Sheppard frowned, and turned to peer into the dark that was lit only by the remaining fire of the burning material stuck to the side of the Hive ship. The darkness shimmered slightly and then resolved itself into the outline of a Puddle Jumper; its searchlights aimed their way.

Sheppard's mind raced over the possibilities until a plan resolved in his head. It was a risky one, and would require precision flying, but it was their only chance, especially as, even with a gaping hole in her side, the Hive ship was still climbing.

"Hollick, I want you to listen to me very carefully," He said, glancing back toward Ronon. "I need you to open the rear hatch of the jumper, turn around and approach the Hive. Our only chance is to make a jump for it."

"No time to argue, soldier." Sheppard ordered, "Do it. Match the Hive's altitude and rate of assent. We're only going to get one shot at this."

"What about McKay?" Ronon asked.

"One of us will have to stay here with him while the other goes over to toss a line across. We're just going to have to haul him across."

Ronon nodded. "I'll do it," he said.

Sheppard met his eyes for a long moment, before he turned his attention back to the gaping tear in the side of the Hive ship. Outside, and more than a little unsteady, the rear of the open Jumper compartment began to resolve itself out of the darkness – coming closer.

"Keep it coming, Major," Sheppard shouted into his com. "Little more… let the Jumper help you… it's all in the genes…"

He swallowed hard, looking through the gap into the inky darkness below… the uninviting plunge. The space between the hole in the side of the ship, and the Puddle jumper was relatively narrow, but still, if he mistimed the jump… if the Hive suddenly accelerated, or a hundred other things that he could not foresee.

"We don't have a choice," Ronon said as though he could read his mind.

"Right… yeah," he said and took a deep breath. "All right, Major… hold her steady. Steady now…"

Taking another breath, and a few steps backwards, Sheppard steeled himself for the moments to come. Without thinking too much about what he was doing, he suddenly launched himself toward the gaping hole in the side of the ship. At the last moment he leaped, his legs still wheeling in the air beneath him. His lungs strained, his arms and legs flailed and it seemed to him that the Puddle Jumper was no nearer than before. With panic starting to grip his heart and squeeze its beating to a near standstill he closed his eyes…

The shock of hitting the metal deck of the Jumper's rear cargo bay drove what remained of the air from his lungs. The next thing he knew was that hands were pulling at him, trying to sit him upright.

"Colonel Sheppard," Zelenka said urgently, "talk to me."

"I'm all right," he whispered, breathless. He pulled himself up to a sitting position and looked around him, trying to locate the equipment he would need. "Help me find a line."

"Whatever you're going to do, Colonel, you'd better hurry," Hollick called through from the cockpit. "I think the Hive just caught on."

"What do you mean?" he called back as he searched for something that could act as a rope or line by which they might get McKay back to the Jumper

"They just shifted attitude – looks like they're planning a roll, but a ship that size, it takes time to manoeuvre."

"Damn it!" Sheppard growled, and started throwing things out of the storage locker to get to the equipment stored at the bottom.

"Got it," Zelenka announced triumphantly from the other side of the cargo hold, and turned to present him with a weapon that looked like a harpoon, with a long length of lightweight metal line attached to the end.

"Now we're talking," he grinned, and approached the back of the Jumper. Urgently he told Zelenka, "Tie off the other end to something secure. Keep us close, Hollick."

"Close as I can, sir."

Quickly he held up the launcher to show Ronon, and then gestured for him to move aside, before he took a careful aim, and fired.

For a moment he was sure he could taste his heart beating in his mouth as the metal spike wobbled in trajectory. He feared he hadn't made allowances for the air current, or for the attitude of the ships in relation to one another, but then the metal disappeared into the darkness of the ship… and he thought he heard Ronon complementing him on his shot, now all he could do was wait, and be ready to help when Ronon got McKay across to his side.

**

As soon as the line embedded itself deeply into the far side of the chamber, Ronon began to search for what he might need. He could feel the ship beginning to tip beneath him, and knew he would not have long… that he had no choice. He would have to carry McKay. The two of them would have to go together… and speed was of the essence.

Quickly he reached down and unfastened the webbing belt that held McKay's equipment to his waist, and with it began to bind the scientist hands together at the wrist. He made doubly sure that everything was as tight and secure as it could be. If it came loose, he would lose McKay into the night. Next he pulled off his own gun belt and slipped his blaster carefully inside his clothing so as not to lose it. He tested the strength of the leather by looping it around his own wrists, and pulling it tight between them. Only when he was satisfied did he return to McKay, lift the man's bound hands and slip them over his shoulders.

It took him a moment to get the scientist settled on his back in a position where he would be secure, without the tethered hand pressing against his windpipe and throttling him, but soon he was ready, and approached the hole in the side of the ship. Holding the looped belt in one hand he gestured to Sheppard with the other to reduce the altitude of the Jumper by just a little, before throwing the free end of the leather belt over the line, and then wrapping it around his free hand.

He waited… it seemed forever to him, before the Jumper was in position, until the moment came for him to step – literally into thin air.

His arms jarred, and for a terrifying instant the leather slipped in his hands. He tightened his grip, and letting out a roaring cry, began to zip down the line toward the Puddle Jumper, gathering momentum as he went.

Timing would be critical. If he let go of the line too soon, he would fall short of his target, and he and McKay would plummet to their deaths. If he let go too late, they would collide with the bottom edge of the Jumper's rear bay. It would likely break his arms, and the outcome would be the same. He counted the seconds in his head, the roaring of his voice matching that of the wind that was all that he could hear. At the last possible second, he let go…

**

Act 5

"The point is, Colonel," Woolsey said, retaking his seat, "that I ordered you not to get involved and you went anyway."

"And you ordered Bravo team in after us and started off a fight," Sheppard countered. "You can't sit there and say 'I told you so.'"

"Because of this mission, yet again, we lost valuable equipment, and could have lost lives."

"Could have," Ronon growled from where he sat, one arm resting in a sling across his chest, "but didn’t."

"The mission was not without casualties," Woolsey said, looking pointedly at his arm.

"I'm fine," Ronon fired back.

"And Doctor McKay?" Woolsey tried to press his point.

"Aside from a few broken ribs," Keller said softly, "he's fine. He'll make a full recovery."

"So no harm done." Sheppard said cheerfully – overly so.

"Colonel Sheppard, might I remind you—" Woolsey began, but Sheppard, tired of his constant nay saying interrupted.

"Look, Mister Woolsey, what you've got to understand is that this isn't the Milky Way Galaxy and things don't work here the way they do back home. Out here in the Pegasus Galaxy, we've found diplomacy rarely works, and when you're talking about the Wraith and those that follow them, forget it. It's brutal out here. They're brutal."

"I understand that, Colonel, perhaps better than you think. But my point is that if this expedition is going to continue to survive in this galaxy, there has to be some kind of respect for the chain of command."

"Mister Woolsey," Sheppard started, "Believe it or not, I do respect that, but I also know when to challenge that. If we hadn't gone out there, we would never have known about the Wraith in that sector, or the existence of that… Super-Hive, or whatever the hell it was."

Woolsey nodded, "It's a fair comment, Colonel, but doesn’t it present us with more problem and questions? Doesn't it also underline the necessity for us to concentrate on the defence of this base from such things as that?"

"But that's just the point," Sheppard leaned forward as he spoke. "We can't do that without allies; without people that can help us out with the supplies and the information that we need."

"And there are also people out there that need our help," Keller put in, "that come to us for help, we can't just… turn them away. We have a responsibility to them."

"I think, Doctor Keller, than you and I are going to have to disagree on that," he held up his hand to stop the comeback that Sheppard could already see her formulating. "Medical ethics aside, I think you have your work cut out for you here."

"Look," Sheppard cut in, "Bottom line – that Hive is going somewhere and for our own safety, and that of the rest of the Galaxy, we need to find out where… and that means we can't pull in our boundaries. Not yet, perhaps not ever." He sighed. "Maybe once, we had that option, Mister Woolsey, but not any more."

Woolsey sighed, but did not interrupt.

"Secondly, whatever way you look at it, we need to get out there and find Teyla," he held up his hand this time to stop Woolsey from jumping down his throat. "Doctor Keller needs the serum to be able to help Major Lorne. Find Teyla, we find Michael."

"For once, I can't argu—" Woolsey broke of, and looked toward the door. "Yes, what is it?"

"Sorry to interrupt, Mister Woolsey, but a few minutes ago we started picking up a signal on our long range sensors…" the technician glanced over at Sheppard before he continued, "I think you're going to want to see."

**

The heavy metal door stood open. The oxidised walls of the room dripping in the reds and greens of rust, and forgotten equipment, remnants of a desperate time, lay strewn across a floor that was dusty with neglect.

A heavy metal bench graced the centre of the room. Bloodied swabs and callous looking instruments, abandoned in a hurry, burdened its surface, and in the corner, broken medical machinery still sparked out its last, dying breath.

She lay pillowed in the dust; watched over by the solitude; mourned only by the rust that ran, as tears, down the filthy wall… her pallid flesh picked out by fading light and her last breath heard by none save the lone whine of one retreating craft.

Fin