SGA/SPN: Supply and Demand 4 - Chapter 3/?

[tari_roo]

Supply and Demand 4: Scarce Skills (SGA/SPN) 3/?
author: tari_roo
Rating: Gen - PG13
Disclaimer: I own nothing and profit from nothing. But if I did, SGA would still on air and Dean would have super powers.

Summary: Life on Atlantis is about to get very interesting as the Trust launch their newest plan. Good thing Dean is still onboard, as the ‘interesting’ gets weird… fast.

Warnings: This is AU for SPN season three onwards and set post season five. No real spoilers for either series but you should really know them both

Previously on Supply and Demand: Dean and Teldy spent their day off together. Dean found a baby dragon and things with Teldy are a little tense. During dinner in Messhall Three a glowing orb appeared and thousands of small flying monsters with long claws and teeth flew out of it and did their best to eat the Marines. Dean, noticing a distinct sulphur smell, on instinct used salt and a devil’s trap to stop the invasion. And now we return after a long hiatus.

AN:  Yes, it has really been far too long since I last updated. It’s been a rough year and bit and I do apologise. This WIP hasn’t been far from my mind and all I can say is: thank you for your patience and kind notes to pretty, please continue. Thank you. I appreciate it. No, really.
Any and all mistakes are mine.


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Thunder rolled over Atlantis, the storm that had troubled the city all day, returning with a vengeance in the evening. As lightning illuminated a dark room in building S3, a shaky hand awkwardly typed an urgent message.

Home base, respond. Results unexpected.

For a second, Agent Four paused, wincing at the collection of cuts on his hands and face. Cursing to himself, he angrily added:

Did you morons even bother testing the mother device? What the hell where those things?

Home base was usually pretty quick to respond, especially during the designated contact times. A full minute ticked by and there was no response.

Home base? You there?

Agent Four grimly thought that maybe the horde of airborne monsters had been a surprise for Home Base as well.

"Serves them right if it was," Agent Four hissed.

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Sheppard wiped a trail of blood out of his eyes, ignoring the flash of hurt as he touched the angry slice on his forehead that trailed into his hairline. The stupid thing was deep and throbbed and wouldn't stop bleeding. Ronon was grimly studying a deep gash on his arm, and was generally covered in blood splatter, mostly his own. Rodney and the few scientists who had stayed to fight were similarly covered in cuts and blood. McKay was still clutching the dinner tray he had used as a shield, his eyes wide and excited.

Through the chatter on the comm. channels, Sheppard heard Captain Brown co-ordinating with Medical for immediate triage. Beckett and a team were already on their way to assess and assist with the causalities and injuries. Adrenalin was still charging through him, and Sheppard felt slightly on edge. He scanned the room, noting who was able to stand, and the five individuals either too hurt to stand, or unable to do so. Dr. Barklay's long dark hair was unmistakable under the frantic movement as two of her colleagues and a marine as they tried to stem the flow of blood from multiple bites and slashes.

Shaking off the momentary lull of shock, Sheppard snapped to and straightened. Touching his ear piece, he said sharply, 'Control. I want a sitrep and status report in five minutes.'

'Roger that, Colonel.'

Woolsey would want a detailed report soon, and Sheppard wanted to get a handle on the full extent of injuries and the dead immediately, but more importantly he needed answers. He caught Rodney's eye and motioned him over. McKay nodded and limped towards him, his face grey and bloody. Winchester was standing to the side, somewhat isolated, Jones and Kim hovering near him. The guy's left forearm was a mess of shredded leather and skin, and he matched everyone else with blood splatter and numerous small injuries.

The fight had been a maelstrom of fear and adrenalin, battling what had felt like an endless storm of teeth and claws, but Sheppard had seen very clearly that Winchester had closed the glowing hole that the creatures where using to invade. Time for answers.

Sheppard, with Rodney in tow, stepped towards Winchester, who immediately straightened as they approached. He looked glum and little belligerent, like he was bracing himself for another fight. Interesting.

"Colonel, I…" Dean was quick off the bat, but Chuck's voice interrupted him as a general call on all channels came through the comms. 'Colonel Sheppard, Medical 1 is reporting the appearance of a bright white hole in surgery 3. Captain Kalen is evacuating S3 and S4 where more holes are appearing. The laundry, messhall one, N1, 2, 14 and 22, East 5 and shit, there's a frigging glowing thing growing in Control, sir!"

Chuck's voice was momentarily drowned out as the Marines on control room duty opened fire. For a couple of second's the comm channel was overloaded with incoming messages and requests for assistance. Grimacing, heart pounding, Sheppard switched to a priority channel and yelled at Chuck, hoping the Canadian heard him. "Chuck, give me city wide, now!"

'Copy that, Colonel. Go ahead.' Chuck sounded like he was speaking from under his desk, and Sheppard hoped the Lieutenant in charge there had the situation in hand.

Clearing his throat, Sheppard crooked a finger at Winchester, indicating for him to follow and walked towards the table with the weird ass, hopefully not-Satanic diagram. Ignoring the Empath for now, the Colonel cued his comm. link and said, "This is Colonel Sheppard. I am declaring an Alpha 2 emergency. Combat and response personnel, implement Echo-Delta evac, containment and defence protocols. All non-combatants report to your designated stations for siege level defence. Evan, take North. Durov, East. Teldy, West. Kalen, South. Keep the comm lines clear, and stick to your designated emergency frequency. Standby for further intel."

Looking up at the Marines, both those who were still bleeding from the first attack and the reinforcements, Sheppard barked, "If Medical has cleared you, head out to your stations." There was a chorus of 'yes, sirs' and the room cleared, just in time to get in Carson's way as the medical team arrived.

"Colonel! Med 1?" Beckett directed his personnel to attend to the injured but he hurried over, his face pale and anxious. "I'm on it, Beckett," Sheppard replied

Winchester had been hovering a little to the left, out of the way and Sheppard reached out and pulled the guy closer, ignoring the tingle of touching a pricklish empathy. Ronon and Rodney stood on the other side of the table, and Ronon was twitching to leave and go shoot something. Sheppard met Winchester's eyes, and briefly tried to get a sense of the man, what thoughts were whirling through his brain. Dean though was locked down, face set and determined but not betraying any real emotion. Sheppard pointed at the symbol and barked, "I have a million questions, but right now I just need to know, will this work again and can anyone draw it?"

Dean blinked and nodded quickly. "Yeah, it'll work again. It's pretty standard and yes, anyone can draw it."

"If you draw it wrong, does it just not work or…" Sheppard trailed off, not too sure he wanted to finish that sentence, which was mostly fuelled by images from half-baked low budget horror films.

Winchester must have followed that train of thought, because he shook his head and said, "You draw it wrong, miss something out, it just doesn't work. It won't summon something worse or anything. Look," Dean paused and met their gaze, Rodney's a picture of scepticism. "I get it. It's weird, and freaky, but it works. I'll try to explain why later, but," and he looked up at Sheppard here, eyes calm and certain, projecting a please just trust me for now look. "I have no freaking idea what's going on, but they don't like salt and the devil's trap closed the portal. There's not really time to dick around, right?"

Sheppard barked, "No shit, Winchester. McKay, where's your tablet?"

Rodney handed it over, and Sheppard thrust it Dean and said, "Draw that symbol again. When he's done, McKay send it out to everyone and I mean everyone and tell them to draw it on…." Sheppard stared at Winchester.

Dean, busy drawing did not look up and replied, "Draw it in doorways, on doors, windows, hall ways, anything that could be considered an entrance. Then the little shits can't enter. If there is a glowing portal already, draw it underneath it and it'll close it."

Sheppard cued his comm. and shouted at Chuck, "Chuck, sitrep and get me Wallstreet."

Chuck replied instantly, his voice breathless and excited, "Dawda's got things under contro here, Colonel, but they keep coming. Patching you through to Wallstreet, now."

Mouthing at Rodney to call Chuck back and give him the devils trap, Sheppard waited for Lt John 'Wallstreet' Cunningham to answer. "Colonel?"

"Wallstreet, this is a priority. I know you are busy, but send a team to round up every single bag of salt we've got and deploy it to the civilian safe zones. Lay it in thick lines across doors and windows."

"No one must break the line," Winchester said sharply, which Sheppard relayed. Wallstreet replied, "Salt, sir?"

"Yeah. Move it, Wallstreet. We need to secure the civilians so we can focus on killing these things."

Wallstreet sounded like he thought Sheppard had lost it, but he said, "On it, sir."

Feeling like his heart was pounding a mile a minute, Sheppard turned to Carson and Ronon. "Ronon, go to the infirmary with Carson, take some salt and Winchester with you and secure it. I want a clear route between the infirmary and zone 1 so that we're not cut off and don't need to fight our way through, or move the infirmary."

Ronon nodded, Carson opened his mouth to say something, thought better of it and followed Ronon. Winchester paused, eyes on Sheppard and the Colonel snapped, "Get going, Winchester. You can explain when it's over." Dean nodded and trotted after Ronon and Carson. The medical teams were ready to head back with the seriously injured and Ronon and Dean formed up to escort them back. Carson loaded up a few bags of salt on a gurney and the group hustled off.

While Dean walked off, Sheppard quickly requested city-wide again, and said clearly, "This is Colonel Sheppard. McKay is sending a diagram of a symbol called a devil's trap to everyone's' tablets. It'll stop these creatures from entering a room and it closes the glowing portals. Follow the instructions on where to draw it. Wallstreet is bringing bags of salt to the civilian safe zones. Lay thick lines of salt across the entryways. Kalen, I am on my way to you to co-ordinate South. Sheppard out."

Rodney looked up from his screen and said, "Message has gone."

"Thanks," Sheppard said, even as he turned and walked towards the door. Rodney trotted after him, clutching his tablet. "Sheppard, are you sure this is a good idea? I mean, we've come up with a hell of a lot of cracked up ideas, but devils' traps and salt?"

"I know, Rodney. Makes you rethink that whole 'vodoo' mumbo jumbo thing, huh?" Sheppard's grin was sharp and wolfish but Rodney did not smile in return.

"Come on! For all we know it was Winchester himself who closed the portal, with his freaky mind powers and not that squiggle on the table." Rodney's eyes were wide, and his face sweaty, the blood streaked as he absently wiped away the sweat.

Unable to contradict his fear, when the sole evidence he had was a brief glimpse of Winchester near portal, Sheppard shrugged, "That's a damn scary thought, McKay. Nothing we can do though right now. Come on, we need to get to the armoury."

While they walked, Sheppard called Control again, and waited for Chuck to answer.

'Colonel?'

"Are you secure yet, Chuck?"

'Getting there, sir. Brown is struggling to get close to the hellmouth as it were. Shit!'

Chuck broke off, and Sheppard sped up, feet pounding as he broke into a steady run, McKay automatically keeping pace. Through the comm. he heard the sounds of fighting, the spine-chilling screeches of the creatures and then the screams rose to wails and there was a shout of attack from the Marines.

Breathless, Chuck finally said, 'Sorry, sir. Brown reached the portal and drew the devil-thingy and they kinda all went wild. The portal closed though and Major Lorne sent in some reinforcements, so it looks like we got them on the ropes."

Relief flooded Sheppard and he wagged his eyebrows at McKay who was listening on the same channel. "Good. I need you to be the prime co-ordination point, Chuck. Get whoever is still on duty with you to co-ordinate with the civilians. You've got combat."

'Charlie is still here, sir. She's already directing traffic for Carson and the department heads. Korvach has the board up and Wallstreet is reporting that the response teams are deploying quickly, fully armed with stunners, P90s and salt."

'Thanks. Keep me updated, Chuck. Sheppard out.' He picked up the pace once he signed off and barely heard Chuck's, "'Roger that, Colonel."

As he half-ran, Sheppard turned to Rodney, "So the devil's trap works. Happy?"

Rodney grunted, wiping his forehead clear of sweat and blood once again. "Fine. Happy as a pig in mud surrounded by a pack of wolves."

Ignoring him, Sheppard pushed up a series of small staircases, and said loudly, "Are you with me or do you want to take command at zone 2?"

Rodney pffed in dismissal, "I want to make sure that they draw the devil's hellhole thing properly, and that Zelenka doesn't try stealing the salt for his vodka."

"You don't need salt to make vodka."

"Whatever, the man has become a kleptomaniac. I'll take 2 and make sure 1 and 3 are ok. You go kill stuff." McKay puffed a little as they climbed but as soon as they reached the landing, his breathing levelled out.

Sheppard nodded and as they turned the corner, they met the steady stream of non-essential science and support personnel flowing towards the designated safe zones. Tipping an invisible hat at McKay, Sheppard said, "Call if there's trouble."

"Like I wouldn't." Rodney dismissed him with an errant hand wave, his pace already picking up, and his voice rising as he hurried to take over and start bossing everyone around. John knew though that he'd make sure surface, entrance, window and crack was secure, if only to keep his own ass safe. Altruism may not be Rodney's default setting or motive, but when his interests were aligned and people were in danger, he was as steady and reliable as any combat veteran.

Sheppard left Rodney and picked up the pace to a run towards the armoury, garnering more than a few looks at his bloody state as he passed straggling civilians. He urged them to hurry with a sharp bark, and they bustled forward, faces pale and wane. The armoury was an efficient factory line, Marines, and SG team members tacing up and deploying out to defend their home, earwigs tuned into their relevant command channel. Wallstreet was in the thick of the operation, and Sheppard skipped the line and went straight for his tactical gear which some kind, thoughtful soul had already prepped for him. As he geared up, Chuck piped in and quickly relayed a status report. The first teams were engaging the enemy at several points across the City and more portals were being reported. Ronon was in the thick of dealing with the invasion in Med 1, but it seemed under control, mostly because they hadn't asked for reinforcements.

Wincing slightly as he pulled on his tac vest, and secured it, Sheppard hissed and asked sharply, "Casualty report?"

'It's a mess, sir. Two confirmed fatalities and medical is overrun with injuries. Keller is prepping for a secondary medical triage area.'

"And the screaming monsters?"

'Ronon's on it, sir."

Sheppard signed off and strode out, snatching his P90 and a couple of stunners as he walked past. The line of Marines was short and rapidly disappearing. Good, the Majors were on point and all of the Marine Companies were deployed for defence. Nodding at Wallstreet, he asked, "We ok on supplies?"

Wallstreet's facial expression was a picture of affront at the mere idea that he was failing as Quartermaster, but his words and tone was respectful as he confirmed, "We have adequate supplies, sir to withstand a month long siege." He did not add the 'as per my last report at the staff meeting' but it was implied. Sheppard smiled, hoping he didn't look too grisly, "Keep the re-supply lines clear. Co-ordinate through Control."

Sheppard signed out his equipment and spare ammo and ran off, heading towards Kalen's section.

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Dean focused on his emotional walls as he ran behind Ronon towards the infirmary, Carson and the medical teams on their heels. The rising tide of terror, excitement, fear and gritted determination was filling the halls of Atlantis as non-essential personnel hurried from their quarters to the nearest safe zones. Worrying slightly, Dean hoped that Sheppard was not creating disasters waiting to happen by gathering the more vulnerable personnel into large groups. If a portal opened in any of those areas, it would be a slaughter. Sure, they had the diagram for a devil's trap and salt, and most would be trained on rudimentary combat as part of being on a Gate team but panicked crowds were an animal all their own. Dean fully planned on checking on each zone after they'd secured the infirmary. While it made logical sense to gather into defensible areas and free up more Marines to handle the incursion, it none the less sent a creep of worry up his spine.

The Infirmary was normally a bastion of controlled, ordered chaos with experienced personnel operating at a frenetic pace in the triage area, calmly but quickly sorting the injured into 'now, later and can wait' and rushing the serious cases into surgery. Carson and Keller's medical teams were well trained, experienced and accustomed to the weirdness that the Pegasus galaxy and living at the edge of civilization could bring.

But a silvery glowing wormhole opening up within the walls of their domain was putting that experience and determination under serious strain. Dean ran into a growing sea of rising fear, as the squad of Marines assigned to the infirmary struggled to hold back the maelstrom of squalling, screaming terrors. Medical 1, separated from the rest of the infirmary by heavy plastisteel walls and windows was completely overrun of the blue grey creatures. The horde was still growing, angry teeth filled mouths were pressed against windows and doors, claws scrabbling and scratching at the resistant Ancient material. The only avenue for escape into the rest of the infirmary was the double door entry and every single Marine was pressed against the doors, trying to keep them closed. A shaky line of salt was edging the doorway but it looked as flimsy as a line of condiments would be against a storm. Not to mention the damage the Marines' boots were doing to its integrity.

Dean ran forward, one of the bags of salt in-hand and ripped it open. Quickly he poured a thick line around the entire section, from one side, under the windows, around the Marines and all the way to the other wall. Within the room, the monstrous creatures wailed and howled, and pressed urgently against the door, no doubt sensing the encasing salt ring. Cursing and swearing the Marines pushed back but the doors were opening inexorably under the combined weighted fury of the creatures.

"Move!" Dean barked. "Let it go and get behind the line."

One of the Marines, Sanchez, Dean thought, exclaimed, "The hell we are. We let go, they're going to swarm this place."

The rest of the Marines continued to swear and curse in agreement, but Dean put enough anger in his voice and snapped, "Do it! don't break the salt!"

Behind him, Ronon added his own, "Now!" and that was enough for Sanchez and his team to comply. Still reluctant and grumbling, and obviously wary, they gave the doors one last massive shove and quickly jumped back over the line of salt Dean had poured. As one their P90s snapped up, ready to kill as many monsters as possible, no doubt convinced they were all that stood between the rest of the medical staff and vital seconds to run if the salt didn't hold. For a brief second, Dean feared he had not drawn the half circle of salt wide enough to accommodate the full arc of the open doors and his heart climbed into his throat. Had he just doomed half the injured in the room? And everybody else who couldn't run fast enough?

The shrieks rose to an ear splitting level and the storm of creatures barrelled out through the doors. Fortunately, the arc of the swinging doors just kept within the circle as the swarm of creatures poured out of medical 1. It may have been years since he and Sam had rescued their Dad from Meg and her brother, but Dean still loved the peculiar thrill of watching a demon slam up against a salt barrier. Their raged-filled helplessness in the face of something so small and simple was friggin awesome.

The torrent of winged, screaming creatures, hell bent of ripping them to pieces crashed against the barrier of salt like a wave and spilled up against the invisible wall, tossing the crest of the wave up and back into the forward momentum. Despite his innate trust of the salt, Dean took an instinctive step back with the Marines as the first wave 'crashed' against the invisible wall, but his heart climbed down out of his throat as the salt held. The surge of relief as the salt worked spiked the overall tide of emotion from the Marines. They didn't stand down though, and shot at few glances at him, even as they kept their eyes trained on the threat in front of them. Contained they may be, but the creatures weren't going away and the dimension hole was obscured entirely by the packed press of dirty grey wings, claws, teeth and mal-intent.

"Now what?" Ronon said, fingers caressing his gun. Unequivocally in charge it seemed by pure virtue of his experience, Dean turned to Sanchez and asked, "Did you get everyone out?"

Eyes transfixed on the impossible invisible wall that was very much 'there', Sanchez nodded. "We got all the injured out, but Nurse Killian we… She went down in the first five seconds, the damn hole opened right next to her. The things poured out right on top of her. It was…"

Grimacing Dean nodded, riding the wave of fury that rose from the Marines, allowing it to fuel his own. He turned to Carson who was standing in the no man's land between medical 1 and the rest of the infirmary. "You got salt over all the other doors and windows? Traps on the floor?"

Carson nodded, "Aye, we do. They're going for overkill in there, Keller has every spare body drawing satanic symbols on the walls and doors. We've also secured the spill over halls and rooms we usually use when things get rough."

The implied 'things are really going to get rough' Dean totally agreed with. Sanchez voiced what must have been on the others' minds, "Are we sure sharpie pentagrams are going keep them safe?" Carson's eyes drifted towards the very open, very exposed medical triage area, the flapping privacy curtains wafting in the wind from the storm outside. As if in answer to the question, a series of glowing sparks appeared in the area, and the ones within a few feet of a devil's trap quickly sparked out and disappeared. Collectively, Carson and the Marine's stepped back from the sparks near them, the chorus of hellish wails from the creatures in medical one rising eerily. Dean though didn't hesitate. He tossed handfuls of salt in the air, dispersing the sparks and ran towards the largest, quickly growing hellmouth. Even as he dropped into a baseball slide under the hole, a dozen or so fiends popped out, claws outstretched, the smell of brimstone following them.

Underneath the portal, Dean jabbed the cut on his hand again and rapidly sketched out the outline of the trap. Shrieking the creatures dive bombed him and before he could think to react, Ronon shot them out of the air, the red flare of his stunner knocking them out. The second Dean closed the circle and finished the symbol the portal closed and the three creatures who had escaped Ronon's fire tore at him. They were small but terribly strong, claws and teeth as sharp as razors. Cursing, Dean shocked them once he could concentrate clearly and they fell with a thud to the floor.

Ronon grimly turned his gun on the fallen bodies, shooting them on the kill setting and helped Dean to his feet. "You didn't have to demonstrate the effectiveness of that wee diagram quite so dramatically, lad, but thank goodness for that!" Carson slapped him on the shoulder and tried to examine his hand and arm which were covered in bites and scratches. "Heaven knows how filthy those beasties are and…"

Smiling grimly, Dean pulled his arm free and interrupted, "Later, Doc. Please get a couple of the not so injured civilians to start drawing big devil's traps, cover as much of the floor as possible in each room we need to secure. I have an idea on how to get that shitstorm out of medical 1."

"Can't we just leave them there…. for now?" one of the Marine's suggested, his face growing paler under the collective gaze of his Sergeant and squad.

Shaking his head, understanding and feeling the Marine's reluctance to broach a secured enemy line, Dean sighed, "Nope. Salt ain't going to stop them from tunnelling out of that room. We need to close that portal or risk them getting into another section of the city."

"Great, just great," Sanchez sighed. "So what's this brilliant idea, Winchester?"

Dean grinned, "I said I had an idea, I didn't say it was brilliant, but it should be fun. Now, do we have any super-soakers and a rosary?"

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Teyla straightened from checking on Torren who was happily watching some confusing children's entertainment on her tablet and as she turned, she bumped into a fairly solid Marine.

"Oh! Forgive me, I…"

"Ms Emmangen, I apologise, I did not intend to appear so suddenly."

Teyla opened her mouth in an 'O' of astonishment. She hadn't noticed Private Novak earlier as part of the detail protecting civilian zone 2 but that was hardly surprising. The evening had had enough chaos to warrant some confusion around where everyone was.

"Can I help you with something, Private?"

Novak nodded, his face earnest and sincere, short crew cut perfectly aligned to Marine standards. "Yes, ma'am. I have been assigned to your squad. The Colonel has ordered a wider dispersment of teams to scout for dimensional portals and track the invading creatures. I have been assigned to your team. Your comm is not working."

Startled, Teyla touched the comm. link in her ear and pulled it out. The little device was indeed no longer functioning. "Ancestors, how did that happen? It was working during the initial attack."

Novak's face was as serious and earnest as his voice as he said, "Perhaps you passed by some electrical interference on your way here. I recommend investigating… another time."

Nodding, Teyla agreed and smiled as Novak handed her another comm. which she popped into her ear and immediately heard Charlie's clear voice correlating with the civilian zones. So far only one small portal had opened in a civilian zone, but Rodney's thoroughness in covering the area with devils traps had paid off. The creatures had emerged but had had no where to go beyond a few feet. Equally fortunately, the experienced civilian personnel had calmly cleared the area and left the aborted attack to the Marines. All bar for Dr Freeman, who had wanted a closer look.

Waving over Dr Biro, Teyla asked her to keep an eye on Torren, which Biro happily agreed to. Torren barely noticed his mother walking away so engrossed was he in her tablet.

She switched to a combat channel and heard Chuck relaying the orders for additional teams, and confirmed that she acknowledged and that she and Novak were heading out. They were to patrol and scout the upper hallways and rooms of East 5, and report on any additional portals. In addition, they needed to secure each hallway and room with a devils trap.

Armed with a stunner and a sharpie, Teyla motioned for Novak to follow her, his P90 banging against his chest. The corridors outside the large room designated as zone 2 were eerily quiet. The Atlantis crew were stretched in tackling this pervasive invasion force, and the pair passed two other teams on their way to East 5. But the combat channels told the true story. The entire combat complement were engaged with defending their home and while containing the little monsters was fairly easy, closing the portals was proving difficult. The sheer volume of numbers was a serious challenge.

As Teyla ran down a long corridor one section away from East 5, with Novak close on her heels, her thoughts ran to an immediate plan to take Torren to New Athos the first chance she got. If these portals could not be stopped permanently, the city was no longer safe for her son.

So engrossed in her thoughts and caught up in scanning for emerging dimensional gates, she didn't see the flickering presence ghosting through the rooms and spaces around her. Novak however did, and an errant flick of his hand dispersed the presence.

Castiel had no idea who or what the presence was, other than some sort of ghost. Normally, if he had the time and felt so inclined, he would have sent the thing on its way, to either heaven or hell. But he had already tried that, twice before, and the thing persistently returned or remained. Earth and the souls thereon were his purview and domain. This spirit did not fall within that realm and while he had sufficient power to send it away, without knowing 'where' to send it to, it returned fairly quickly.

Teyla shot him a glance and he nodded in agreement. He had seen the beginning sparks of a portal too. It was time to go to work.

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The Colonel ducked as several ancient pieces of furniture flew close enough to decapitate. Crouched down, he signalled Kalen who shook his head. After clearing half a dozen hellmouth portals, the squads deployed to the South arm of Atlantis had run headlong into a literal army of snarling wing-born creatures near the base of S5. They were in a large passage leading to an open space in S5, which was now filled with thousands of the creatures. The sheer volume of numbers and press of attack was too much to do more than rapidly create a defensive redoubt behind the salt line across the corridor and hunker down until a better strategy emerged. Unfortunately the upper levels of S5 had several connections into the rest of the habitable buildings in the southern section of the City. They couldn't just leave the mauling pack where they were. They might find a way around the salt and traps. Equally unfortunately, these creatures demonstrated a decided intelligence. The largest of them, and given the size of the portal, these were the biggest specimens Sheppard had seen so far, were using that size and intelligence to lob loose furniture and fixtures at the Atlanteans. Makeshift missiles were not stopped by salt or devil things.

Kalen had sent two scouts to see if the lower levels were clear and judging by their reports, it wasn't looking good.

"Shit," Sheppard cursed to himself, wincing as more furniture struck the walls near them.

He touched his ear-wig and hissed at Chuck, "Colonel Sheppard here, what's the situation in the rest of the City?"

Chuck sounded a little breathless but he chirped back quickly, his voice brisk and stressed, "North and West have reported in - they've each got large swarms boxed in at a few points but more portals keep opening. There are too many of them to get close to the portals. Durov ran out of ammunition before they even made a dent, let alone a path to the portal. They are all regrouping behind salt or traps."

Cursing even more to himself, Sheppard barked, "And East? The Tower?"

"Uhn, East so far seems clear of any big swarms. The smaller teams are clearing floor by floor, sealing off each room and level with salt and traps. Central, well, similar problems. Small portals handled, a couple of trapped swarms with no real idea on how to close the portals."

"Any ideas floating around on what to try next?" Sheppard wondered if a quick comm. conference was in order, if they could all spare the time. Maybe they should make the time. Kalen was redeploying a few squads and Sheppard watched as more soldiers were sent to the other levels. They were going to be stretched pretty thin very quickly.

"Lorne needs help securing more levels, so he's got every available body with clearance doing sweeps. It's dangerous though, Rameriz and Hobkirk were nearly eaten alive before Grear reached them. No ideas, Colonel, just running to keep up it seems," Chuck replied, sounding a bit distracted as he no doubt multi-tasked trying to keep everything co-ordinated.

Over his shoulder, Sheppard heard Kalen deploying even more soldiers to the lower levels. While the devil's trap seemed to work vertically once drawn, the salt didn't. South had a lot of large buildings, mostly unused and clear of people, but it was a lot of ground to try and secure. "Has Wallstreet confirmed how we are doing with supplies?"

Chuck coughed and in the background, Sheppard could hear Charlie arguing with someone over the comm. "He has, sir. We're getting low on salt, especially given how generous the scientists have been with the barriers. Wallstreet is looking into that salt extractor again."

Sheppard winced, both at the screams from the creatures, who were ripping at the walls now and the idea of Wallstreet's marines tinkering with the saline converter again. Everyone was already tired after a long normal working day. It was close to 22h00 and there was no end in sight. "Put me through the Winchester, Chuck."

"Right away, Colonel."

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"Holy Hand Grenade Mark I, ready?"

Niggles, one of Sanchez's team nodded, his face grim as he lined up their macgyvered catapult, but his eyes were alight with excitement. Carson was anxiously hovering near Ronon, having donated to the cause as it were in supplying the means to make the catapult and 'grenades' but his expression and vibe was one of undecided anxiety - was this all a waste of effort and just a bunch of overgrown kids playing at war? Or a real solution?

Ronon was calmly ready for anything.

Dean smiled to himself, certain none of the internal glee he felt was visible or leaked out. He hoped.

"Fire!"

Niggles fired and a very un-aerodynamic medical latex glove filled with salt water flew through the air like the ghost of a cartoon chicken. Filled to bursting, Dean still nonetheless feared that the balloon wouldn't break on contact, and would only bounce, so he watched its glorious arc with anticipation, willing it to work.

The collective marines, sceptical medical staff and bystanders all tracked the same trajectory, a real life slow motion moment. Only it wasn't slow motion, it was over in seconds.

A responding cheer broke as cleanly as the 'grenade' did. The spray of salt water worked as well, if not better than Dean had hoped. The horde of trapped (but probably not for long) creatures shrieked in unison as the salt in the water touched them. Those creatures at the centre of the blast shrieked loudest, their skin smoking and burning.

No time to waste, Dean shouted, "Mark II, ready?"

Niggles was ready, the second variety primed for deployment. "Fire!"

Mark II was filled with holy water. A somewhat reluctant Marine named Wright had offered his rosary to Dean when there appeared to be none in the immediate area. Wright's offering was well rewarded when Mark II caused even more damage, several of the monsters falling to the floor, burned husks still smoking. The swell of very tangible anger and fear from the swarm grew. Wright's grin was viciously delighted. Hell, all of the Marines were fairly bouncing on their heels with excitement.

Delighted and undeterred, Dean said, "Ready Mark III."

Niggles was way ahead of him, Mark III locked and loaded. The young Marine was radiating pride and deep, violent satisfaction, fully aware of the jealously of his team. "Fire!"

Carson leant over and hissed at Dean. "You are enjoying this, aren't you, lad?" Dean grinned. Who would have thought the hours he and Sam spent perfecting and testing the holy hand grenade would prove to be useful afterall. Demons or ghosts didn't usually stay put in one place long enough for this to be effective. Rocksalt shotgun loads had been a natural outgrowth of those hours spent on the roof during a scorching Missouri summer testing a variety of home made water-balloons. In retrospect, Dad may have been angrier at the waste of good medical supplies than the waste of time, but old man Simmons's cat hadn't been impressed at all.

Mark III was met with another cheer from the Atlanteans and a scream from the trapped horde. Blessed salt water, or holy sea water, caused even more damage. It created a visible hole in the swarm as blue grey bodies fell in a wave as the water hit, but it was quickly filled as more creatures flew through the portal.

"So it works lad, but what now? You lot could lob these things all day, but I only have so many gloves in stock and those beasties keep coming through." Carson watched as Niggles shot the back up versions of each Mark to verify the results, but it was pretty clear. Holy Seawater for the win. The swarming monsters though were in an uproar, writhing and straining against the salt barrier. Their malevolent malice and hate rose to a frenzy.

Dean nodded. Carson was spot on in his surmise. The Marines would spend all day and night shooting at the creatures and it would make no real difference in the end. Closing the portal was the main thing, as he doubted the monsters from the hell dimension would run out of reinforcements before they ran out of balloons or buckets. Alas, the first item on his request list, a supersoaker, had not materialised. While not impossible, it was doubtful that anyone onboard Atlantis had bothered to bring an oversized water gun, but right now, Dean kinda wished that the Marines had once had a full on inter-Company water war. Oh well.

"Don't worry, Doc. Plan B will work."

"What was Plan A?" both Sanchez and Carson asked.

Dean did not bother to reply. "Does anyone know if the City has a fire suppression system?"

Carson sighed, "Aye, lad, it does but it's gas based, and hazardous to people. I…"

Chuck's excited voice interrupted and the young Canadian said brightly, "Dean, the Colonel for you." Everyone paused and Dean replied smartly, "Colonel?"

Sheppard sounded tired, and the background noise of shrieking creatures rose and fell in waves. Raising his voice a little over a particularly loud chorus, Sheppard barked, "We've got swarms trapped all over the city but no quick way to get to the portals to close them. Any bright ideas?"

Dean shot Ronon a look, who shrugged in return and he replied, "Do you have a stockpile of water guns by chance? Super soakers or something?"

There was a beat of silence from Sheppard and his answering reply was a long drawl, "Salt water? Really?"

"Blessed salt water is even better, we just need a more effective delivery system than holy hand-grenades."

There was another beat of silence and Sheppard sighed, "I assume Carson knows you raiding his supplies, Winchester?" Before Dean could reply, the Colonel continued, "How much of a hole do your water balloons create?"

Dean and the Marines shared a look and they all nodded, Niggles and Martins postulating five to six feet in diameter at least. Dean replied at bit more conservatively with, "I think Mark III got us at least 4 feet, Colonel. A quick succession could do more, but the swarm closes the hole pretty damn quick."

Chuck said over the comm,."Colonel, I'm patching in the other Captains. They're all asking the same questions so…"

On the other side of the comm. Sheppard was silent, and the collective Military leadership who Chuck had all patched in waited for a response. Durov's Russian tinged rumble echoed through the command channel, "What we need is riot gear or protective armour. Take the battle to these демоны."

Lorne agreed, his voice almost inaudible under the screams and wails as his company of Marines battled in their sector, "We managed to push our way to a small portal, but the squad was nearly shredded. We had to rush them off the med 2. We can keep doing that, but it's going to cost us dearly."

A quick note of relief flooded Dean when he heard Teldy say, "Some of the things coming out of portals now are massive. If we don't close them soon, Lorne's technique may not work so easy."

Before anyone else could comment, Sheppard spoke, his voice suddenly bright with an idea, "Wallstreet, are you on?"

"Yes, sir."

"Do we still have those ceremonial shields the Appians traded to us?"

There was silence from Wallstreet and everyone else as they waited. Off comm. they could hear him yelling at a few of his people and after a few seconds he answered, "Sure do, Colonel. But those things are about as strong as cardboard. Wouldn't it be better to call the SGC and ask them for riot shields and more manpower?"

Chuck interrupted with a sheepish cough, "Ah, Colonel. Small problem there."

"What now, Chuck?"

"Charlie and I tried to dial out after a…. uhm… theoretical discussion and uhm… she was right. The gate engages but the wormhole doesn't form. It flickers in and out and then disappears, ah, disengages."

The ripple of fear from the Marines made Dean's teeth itch and he could feel everyone else's nerves rise at that bit of news even though they were scattered across the City. "What was the theoretical discussion, Chuck?" Sheppard drawled, anger colouring his voice.

Again, off comm. they could hear Chuck talking to Charlie, who was refusing to explain her theory and Chuck replied with a sigh, "Well, ah, it was that if the devil's traps close dimensional portals or disrupt existing ones, could the mathematics behind the traps ah, uhm… disrupt the StarGate. And well, uhm, it does."

Dean shifted on his feet nervously, feeling responsible even if this outcome could hardly have been expected. The Infirmary was packed with people, as more and more injured personnel and Marines came in, all in various states of injury. Med 1's writhing swarm of monsters looked like it was about to burst any second, and Dean had to tamp down firmly on the rise of his own fear and worry. He sure as hell didn't want to add to everyone's anxiety. It was hard enough keeping all of their emotions at bay, let alone adding to the situation. The last thing Atlantis needed in a combat situation was people panicking.

No one however said anything to or at him. Instead, Sheppard just sighed and said, "So until we can shut these things down permanently, we're not going anywhere. Wallstreet, are you sure those shields are useless?"

Lorne chipped in, "What are you thinking, Colonel?"

While Chuck had been talking, Wallstreet must have got his hands on a shield and his voice when he replied was hopeful, "Actually, Colonel, I think they're ok. Not as strong as I'd like and probably won't last terribly long, but if you're thinking what I think you are thinking, I think it could, uhm… work?"

Durov laughed loudly over the comm., drowning out a few chuckles from the others. Sheppard coughed, his smile audible. "Here's the plan, so Wallstreet get ready to run those shields out to everyone near a cornered swarm."

The Marines straightened, Sanchez's back ramrod straight, their eyes bright. Dean noted that all other personnel in the infirmary were also watching, their expressions keen and hopeful. Ronon was twitching with supressed adrenalin and Dean smiled quietly to himself. Sheppard sounded a little excited himself and his enthusiasm was buoyed by a fiendish desire to take back their City. He said calmly, "Water balloons create a breach, small Roman tortoise pushes in towards the portal. More balloons keep the swarm back, tortoise reaches the portal and closes it. More tortoises armed with stunners to follow the first if the portal is too far."

Durov roared through the comm.,"I like it!"

Carson though added a concern, "Colonel, all well and good but I don't have unlimited supplies, you know. We may run out of gloves before we do portals."

Wallstreet replied, his voice also tinged with excitement, "Got you covered there, doc. Plenty of condoms and other inflatable plastics in stock we can convert."

"Oh aye, terrific lad. I can just imagine what inflatable stock you have."

Cutting off the laughter, Sheppard said firmly but gently, "We need to get a production line for the balloons going and lets kick these things in the teeth before we lose half the city to them. Everyone in the civilian zones can help."

A round of yes sirs ended the conversation and everyone signed off to pass the message on. Dean stood for a second, surrounded by excited Marines and Ronon who were already discussing who was going to breach and who was going to toss holy hand grenades in support. The mood was lifting, now that they had a plan that wasn't solely based on salt and weird diagrams. There was one thing they hadn't covered though - how were they going to stop the portals from appearing at all? And why had they started appearing in the first place?

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"They're planning what?" Woolsey's face was a bit red under the spray of dried blood from shallow head wound. He'd narrowly missed losing an eye to a screaming creature before a Marine had stunned it, and he was barricaded with the rest of the control room staff behind a collection of desks and furniture to protect the controls and a route to escape.

Charlie, who had lost at rock paper scissors on who was briefing him, nodded grimly. She was sporting her own collection of scratches and cuts, but nothing as graphic as Woolsey's horror fest of blood spray. "Roman tactics, combined with water balloons and Winchester's devils traps."

Woolsey sighed, and asked unhappily, "Has McKay figured out where these things are coming from, what caused this attack?"

Nodding, Charlie said, "Unfortunately not yet. He's working on it, in between co-ordinating with the other physicists. But nothing yet."

"And the Gate?"

Wincing at the memory of Rodney's tone and volume, she replied quietly, "Uhm, he said to wipe off the satanic symbols and pray to whatever voodoo god we wanted that that worked."

"Ah. Well. Where are we most stretched, Miss Granger?"

"Medical sir, and well, the combat areas. While the injuries are minor, it's the blood loss that has the medical staff most worried. They've started collecting blood from civilians, sir."

Woolsey nodded and said, "Good. Is the path to zone 1 clear?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good, then I am going to go there and help. Donate blood, make balloons. It's better than just sitting here waiting for news. Keep me apprised, Miss Granger."

Charlie nodded and helped him to his feet. "Yes, sir."

As she watched him walk away, she grimaced as she explored a cut on her lip with her tongue. Most of the Marines on Gate-room duty were gone to help elsewhere and the control room was very quiet, skeleton staff deployed. Idly, she muttered to herself, "What we need is a water-bender. Drown the bastard things."

"What did you say, Charlie?" Chuck called and she replied, "Nothing."

"Then get back here. Zone 3 are panicking! Some fool broke a water balloon over a salt line."

"On my way."

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"Fire!"

Sheppard watched in anticipation as several of Kalen's Marines hurled filled to bursting gloves and condoms at the trapped swarm right over the heads of the modern testudo who were poised, ready to push into the breach. The swarm completely filled the room, a squalling, writhing mass bodies and wings. How they were still able to move and fly in the press was incredible.

The missiles burst and the impact result was spectacular. The horde collectively drew back, screeching in pain, dozens of bodies fell to the floor and into the hole, the shield protected Marines rushed. An enterprising corporal had suggested taking balloons with them inside the tortoise, and to wet their shields. It worked like a dream. The creatures attacked and instantly drew back, burned by the holy seawater on the metal. When an opportunity presented itself, both the Marines inside the formation and those back behind the salt line threw balloons and created space for the tortoise. It was slow going, and Lt Gold, instead the formation, was barely audible over the cacophony of screams. "They're pretty strong, Colonel. Can you see the portal yet? How much further?"

It was difficult to see through the collected mass of monsters, and Sheppard growled, "Keep going straight ahead, Lieutenant. You'll probably see it before we do." Behind him in the corridor, Kalen's Marines waited, shields held at the ready, ready to rush and help Gold if needed. The supply of holy water balloons was dwindling quickly and they had received quite a large batch.

John threw a few gloves as well, careful not to get the salt line too wet. As a back up, they drawn a devil's trap after the salt, and it looked like they would need it. The spray of water was collecting on the ground in large puddles. The smell of burning creatures was acrid and foul, their grey, sickly blood was thick in the air.

The testudo's progress was slow but steady and fortunately the Marines' aim was good, and it wasn't too long before Gold shouted, "I can see it, Colonel. We're close. Take two steps right, guys and …"

It happened. Unseen, a trickle of water from a large puddle broke the salt line and a pile of dead creatures rolled over the devil's trap line. Like a biological bomb, the creatures burst free and screamed towards the startled Marines.

Fortunately years of service on Atlantis had them all prepared for surprises and a wave of balloons, stunner fire and makeshift metal weapons met the swarm. Sheppard braced himself, a shield held at the ready and he met the wave with a grunt. The things were definitely stronger than they looked. He fired steadily, stunning dozens but the sheer weight of numbers was incredible. They were swarming all over him, biting, clawing and ripping. Over the comm. he barely heard Kalen rallying his troops. In desperation, Sheppard dropped the stunner and pulled out a machete he normally reserved for dense jungle worlds. Swinging steadily, he tried to create some space, sweeping biting things off his legs and arms, but as fast he did, more attacked. They were on his back, at his neck and all it would take was one lucky claw and he was bleeding out.

"A little help here!" he shouted, but there was no answering reply.

Desperate, John retreated, searching for a wall to put his back against. He crushed half a dozen creatures as he found a wall to put his back against, and hunched his heck into his shoulders, trying to protect his throat. The screaming monsters were relentless, tearing and clawing as fast he was cutting them out of the air. The shield was a huge help, but it only protected his top half. His legs were taking a beating and Sheppard nearly dropped to his knees as one of the creatures bit into his calf. It died in a spray of blood but the scent of an open wound seemed to infuriate them further. More and more of the grey, screaming things pressed at him, clawing, biting, ripping.

"Got it!" Lt. Gold cried and the bright glow of the portal disappeared. The creatures wailed but did not stop attacking. In fact their attack increased, in final desperation. Sheppard buckled, dropping to his knees and slashed endlessly, cutting more and more creatures off of him. He had to get to his feet.

A fairly large sized creature latched onto his arm and bit his wrist, immobilising the machete. Cursing, Sheppard cried out, "Shit! Get off you f…"

Something hit him and broke open in a mist of water and the attacking monsters fled, screaming, burning. More balloons hit him, drenching him and then he was surrounded by a squad of Marines with shields. "Can you stand, Colonel?"

Shaking his head and hand, Sheppard nodded, breathing heavily. "Yeah, yeah." Staggering a bit, he stood and Captain Kalen grinned at him, looking like an extra from a gore fest horror. "Can you move? We need to go get Gold and his squad. They're being eaten alive."

Wincing as he gripped his machete, Sheppard nodded, "Let's go."

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TBC