James Swallow - Nightfall

“Good,” said Soonir. “Our luck is holding.”

“For now,” said the Satedan. He wondered if Sheppard and the others were faring any better.

There was a commotion behind him and Ronon turned to see Takkol barge past Lieutenant Allan. The fear the elder had shown in the cages was gone and his usual haughty mien had returned. “Is this one of your bolt holes?” he demanded, glaring at the rebel. “Is this how you moved around the settlement, to plant your seeds of sedition and plot to overthrow my rule?”

“Yes,” Soonir replied evenly. “And now it has saved your life. I think gratitude would be in order.”

“To you? Never! For all we know, you are the instigator of all this! Perhaps you are in league with Kullid and Aaren, perhaps you are one of the pawns of the Wraith!”

Soonir’s face clouded. “I had hoped your eyes would have been opened when your precious Aegis renounced you, but I see that was too much to ask for! You are still the same blinkered fool you ever were.”

The two men squared off, each a moment away from resorting to physical violence. Ronon’s face twisted in a sneer and he stepped between them. “Both of you, be quiet before I beat that noise out of you.” Both the rebel soldiers and the remainder of the elder’s guards bristled at his words.

“How dare you threaten me!” Takkol retorted.

Soonir eyed Ronon. “The sickness has made you foolish, voyager. You are in no state to fight.”

“If you think that,” Ronon glowered at the two men, each word a razor, “then you’re a poor judge of character.” He snorted. “Look at you. Away from the Wraith for less than a minute and you’re already falling back into your old patterns.” The Satedan shook his head. “Your people need help, not your damned posturing.”

“You know nothing of our society,” Takkol replied defensively.

“I know this.” Ronon prodded him in the chest. “I’ve seen more worlds scoured clean by the Wraith than you can count, my own home among them.” He coughed and spat. “And I know that the only way to fight the Wraith is to be willing to give everything. Even your life.” He shot a look at Soonir. “So if you want Heruun to have another sunrise, put aside any rivalry you have. Fight together or die apart. It’s that simple.”

His grim pronouncement brought silence with it. Neither Soonir nor Takkol could dare to deny the truth of what he had said.

Finally, Keller spoke up. “The Wraith who came to the cages… There will be others. Sooner or later, they’re going to do what they always do. Start the cull.”

“We’ve gotta hit them now,” said Allan wearily. “We have the element of surprise.”

Ronon nodded. The lieutenant’s suggestion made good tactical sense. “We’ll need your help,” he said, turning back to the elder and the rebel. “The Wraith must be staging from somewhere…”

“The sick lodge,” said Soonir. “Kullid has given it over to them.”

“If we can get close without raising the alarm, we can tip the balance.”

Takkol frowned. “There are many of our people there, many of the sick who have come lured by Kullid’s promises that the Wraith have a cure for them.”

“Laaro’s parents…” murmured Keller.

“Can you get us there unseen?” said Ronon.

Soonir paused, thinking. “It can be done. But we must move now.”

“I will come with you,” Takkol added, drawing himself up. “I should be there.”

“The more, the merrier,” said Allan.

Ronon felt a hand on his arm and turned. “Are you really sure you’re up for this?” Keller spoke quietly. “I’ve been watching you. You can fool the others but you can’t fool me, I know the pain and disorientation are getting worse.”

He shook her off. “I’ll be okay.”

The doctor’s jaw set firmly. “I’m sure you think that. But just in case you’re not, I’m coming with you.”

“No,” he began, “that’s not going to happen. You need to stay out of sight, take the others and find a safe haven.” Ronon gestured towards the nurses and medical staffers who had come with Keller from Atlantis.

“This isn’t a discussion,” she replied. “And besides, you’re not the reason I want to go back to the sick lodge. If Kullid is telling the truth, and the Wraith do have a cure for the sickness, that’s where it will be.” She folded her arms and stared defiantly at him.

He sighed; he couldn’t muster the will to argue with her. “Fine. Just don’t get yourself killed.”

“Lorne!” Sheppard shouted to attract the major’s attention and jabbed a finger toward a shallow curved ramp leading down toward the lower level of the computer core. “Take McKay, get down there and stop those creeps from using the collapsar.”

“What are you going to do?” said McKay.

“Something daring to keep them off your asses. Now go!” If he had paused to think seriously about it, Sheppard knew that the recklessness of what he was about to do would convince him to stay put; so he threw caution to the wind and just winged it.

Yelling at the top of his voice, he burst from cover with his assault rifle at his hip, the fire selector slotted at full auto. It had exactly the effect he wanted, catching the Wraith off guard as he looped around the raised walkway, laying down a fan of bullets. Shots whined off the support stanchions and blew warriors off their feet. All around him were the buzzing flares of stunner bolts, some of them so close he could feel the numbing corona of energy.

Reaching another curved ramp on the far side of the chamber, he let himself fall backwards into a half-slide, coming down against one of the low safety railings. Ignoring the friction down his thigh, he rode the smooth banister toward the lower level. A pair of Wraith moved to block his path and he kicked off, spinning around to land bodily against the pair of them. Reacting without thinking, Sheppard slammed the still-hot muzzle of the G-36 into the face of one of the aliens, and sent it howling away, clawed fingers grabbing at flash-burned skin. The second Wraith grabbed a handful of his gear vest and yanked him backward; he lost the rifle and let himself drop. The warrior overbalanced and fell hard against a steel wall. The colonel mirrored a move he’d once seen pulled by a WWF wrestler and put all his weight behind his elbow, driving the Wraith’s skull into the wall with a nasty crunch of bone.

More of them were coming. He couldn’t spare a second to see if Lorne and McKay had made it down; instead he flung himself across the floor and snatched up a fallen stunner rifle, clutching the metallic, maggot-shaped weapon to him. He squeezed the firing pad and dispatched the aliens advancing on him.

Gunfire rattled on the far side of the chamber and he scrambled away, pausing only to snag the strap of his discarded G-36 and swing it over his shoulder.

“Sheppard!” He heard Rodney shouting his name. “Stop him!”

He didn’t need to ask who. The Wraith veteran — the one from the bridge — was shoving two of his lackeys across the chamber, toward another of the room’s cylindrical alcoves. The bigger warrior drones were carrying Fenrir’s isa unit between them.

Unlike the matter converter, this other alcove was a shallow dais under lit by green and white strobes, pulsing in a regular rhythm. To one side, a curved panel was connected to the device and standing over it was a Wraith scientist.

Something clicked inside Sheppard’s head as he suddenly understood what was going on. The other alcove wasn’t another converter. It was a teleport pad.

And with that they can beam that sun killer anywhere in range. Gotta stop them no matter what —

Without warning the deck of the Aegis resonated like a struck drum skin and tilted wildly for a few seconds as the ship’s gravity generators struggled to compensate. The lights ringing the chamber dimmed and then steadied.