Supply and Demand 4: Scarce Skills - 4/?
Supply and Demand 4: Scarce Skills (SGA/SPN) 4/?
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 on-board, 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
Author note: Dedicated to endgame65 who has very, very patiently reminded me that readers are waiting. Thank you.
Chapter 4
John bumped into Dean in the long twisting corridor between S11 and E12. Rodney had once remarked that the corridor must have been a late addition to the Atlantis structure. He, Radek and a few of the engineers had been debating, or in Rodney's case arguing on whether Atlantis had been constructed all at once, like a space ship or in pieces, over time, like a true city. Fortunately, there were a few spots within the city that validated Rodney's theory of piecemeal construction. The twisty corridor was one. It matched in terms of construction material and interior design, but appeared to have been an after-thought. Rodney had theorised that the Ancients had realised that it was a long walk to the respective transporters in each sector and had whipped up a quick fix.
"Colonel, are you ok?"
Sheppard blinked, shook his head and grimaced at pull of the half a dozen cuts and slices that re-opened with the movement. "Winchester," he growled and grabbed the tall man's arm. Through the haze of exhaustion and pain, he towed Dean to one side, away from the noise of Marine platoons and in-coming comm. calls. Sheppard made sure his comm. was off and said in a low voice, his words sharp and biting, "You tell me right now how those frigging traps work."
Dean stared at the Colonel, his expression startled, eyes wide and mouth slightly agape. Flecks of dried blue blood covered the guy's face, adding a riot to the scattering of freckles on his cheeks, aside from his own collection of cuts and bruises. Sheppard half expected Winchester to wave his question off, say that there was no time to discuss anything. He braced himself, muscles poised to react, haul the guy into line if need be. Dean matched his posture and mood, vibrating tension and anger, frustration even. His eyes kept darting around, watching the Marines, tracking all the movement, ready for an attack.
"Look, Colonel…"
His grip on Winchester's arm tightened, vice-like and John closed the small distance between them, anger fuelling him more than anything else. "I have been fighting freaking monsters for hours with no end in sight. Literal monsters. You… you are an unknown, Winchester and just miraculously have a way to keep these things trapped. Not gone, not stopped - just dead and trapped. I need to know more. Now!"
They were getting more than a few nervous glances from the Marines who were almost done regrouping. Whole sections of the City were being abandoned behind salt lines and devils traps as the swarms of monsters grew. Right now, the focus was on closing portals within the inhabited parts of the City. That effort alone was bringing the collected armed forces of Atlantis to its knees. As fast as they closed portals, more and more opened in the distant, unused parts of the City. Sheppard forced himself to stand straighter and under that furious gaze, Dean wilted. The resistance drained from him and Sheppard saw a young, tired man as worried as he was. "Colonel, I've been wracking my brain for a solution and I just…"
"The traps." Angry exhaustion sparked in his voice. Maybe if Sheppard could just understand 'how' the traps worked, a solution would present itself. McKay kept trying to contact him on the comm. to confab about ideas and theories, but Sheppard didn't have the time to brainstorm.
Propping himself up against a wall, hands shaking, Winchester sighed, "I don't know how they work, just that they do." Dean's eyes fluttered, darting every which way but Sheppard's face. His tone though was resigned.
"How? How did you know they'd work?" Sheppard pulled at his tac vest, wincing as something protested in his side. He was bleeding somewhere, he could feel the growing wetness under his vest. His left arm was swathed in bandages, after an overly enthusiastic medic had decided that more bandages meant less hurt. Dean shrugged. "My Dad. He taught us things... odd things. Including the Key of Solomon, Devil's traps and salt. Good for fighting demons."
"Demons?" Sheppard tried not to sound too incredulous, too sceptical, but shit - Demons?
Dean stared out of the window, at the pitch dark stormy night encasing the City. He pursed his lips and said, "Short version, Colonel. My dad hunted monsters and ghosts and I know it sounds crap-ass crazy. I smelt sulphur when those little shits attacked and I put two and two together. Demons reek of sulphur, demons hate salt." He shot Sheppard an odd look, like he was trying to gauge the level of disbelief. Whatever he saw, he continued regardless, "I had a theory, I tested it and it worked." John studied Dean - his expression and posture, trying to ascertain any miniscule trace of deception.
"I honestly have no idea why it works - on demons or this creatures - it just does." Dean's voice was flat, unemotional. Sheppard slumped slightly, the anger draining from him, joining his high hopes at the bottom of his boots. "Shit."
Dean flicked his gaze at Sheppard and paused, mouth hard, clearly thinking about something. Debating something internally perhaps. Sheppard waved his good hand at him, and shook his head, "Spill it."
"We've got them bottled up but the City is too big." Sheppard nodded. All too true. It would take an entire army to secure the City now and trying to do it sector by sector risked a massive drain on resources. Lorne's last report was that N77 was literally crawling with the things, spewing out creatures the size of cars and trucks.
Dean continued, eyes still focused on Sheppard, "Maybe what we should be asking is - where did they come from? Or rather, why now? What happened or brought them here?"
Frowning, Sheppard rubbed his face and murmured, "Its Atlantis, weird shit happens."
"Really? Without any cause or underlying motive or reason?" Dean edged closer, his voice near a whisper. "Colonel, think about it. Atlantis has been here for years and nothing like this has happened. Everything was fine and then, wham, a portal vomiting out creatures from another dimension. Shit like that doesn't 'just' happen."
Oh, how he wished for a cool place to lie down, rest and think this through. Dean was right but hell if Sheppard could string more than a single coherent thought together. It made sense - that there had to be a cause to this effect, even if it was a cause beyond their understanding. "We're talking a pretty broad spectrum of potential causes, Winchester."
At this, Dean nodded and said, "Sure, but doesn't the City or Rodney have sensors or something. Equipment that tracks … stuff?"
"Stuff?" Sheppard couldn't help the teasing tone and Dean rolled his eyes.
"Energy spikes. Weird radiation, space anomalies, alien technology…." Dean trailed off, a sheepish smile on his face at John's expression. Sheppard though was thinking. It wasn't beyond reason that the City may have picked something up - at least at the start of the attack. Was it technology at work? An attack, rather than a freak thing? Sighing, John muttered more to himself than Dean, "Why am I only thinking of this now?"
"Pressing need to make sure we don't all get eaten?" Dean suggested helpfully, and Sheppard grunted even as he tapped his comm. and asked for Rodney. Once Chuck had patched him through, he was greeted with, "I am not a machine, Hugo! Stop breathing down my neck, you pot-bellied over-grown..."
"Rodney."
"What?" McKay sounded both relieved and furious - so fairly normal for him and John pressed on before he was treated to a diatribe of complaints and demands. "Stop whatever it is you're doing and get to Control. Check all the readings around the time the first hellhole opened in the mess hall. See what if anything the City picked up at the time - from a science perspective." He winced even as he said the words. Way to sound cool and intellectual, John.
Stunned silence answered him for five full seconds and then Rodney barked, "You want to find a logical reason for voodoo, hellmouths spewing out demonic monsters?"
"Yes."
Sheppard could hear Rodney arguing with someone off comm. and tossing something in the air, before he replied with, "Fine. Probably should have looked hours ago. Fine. I'm going." He was pissed with himself for not thinking of it sooner and Sheppard understood the feeling. In all fairness though, the devils traps and salt had thrown logic and reason for a loop but they still should have thought about it. Before Sheppard could turn back to Winchester, Chuck piped up, "Colonel, everyone has pulled back to the designated safe areas, but there are nearly twenty people who haven't checked in. The civilian zones are secure, no portal has appeared in them, or any of the infirmaries or Control for over an hour."
"It's just the rest of the City that's being over-run," Sheppard replied, gaze turning to the Marines who were now done with securing the corridor and this section. ´Yes, sir. All the inhabited areas are behind our lines, as it were, but portals keep appearing inside the 'safe' zone. Teldy is co-ordinating response teams to close portals but …"
"Give me the command channel, Chuck."
"Done."
Dean was still looking out of the window, occasionally glancing at Sheppard, gauging his emotions or something. John sighed to himself, trying not to be irritated. Constant wariness was one thing, rampant paranoia was another. He'd get to the bottom of Winchester's story after this was over. And a day long nap. The nap would come first. John keyed his comm. and said, "This is Sheppard. I want everyone to pull back into the safe zones. Leave the rest of the City for now. Majors, each of you set up roaming patrols to scope out portals opening and take them out before anything comes through. Re-supply, get the wounded to medical and let's re-group in Control."
Lorne piped up and said, "Colonel, we risk letting those things build up to numbers that will be impossible to clear out. We could lose most of the City."
Sheppard nodded, feeling every inch of hard road spent fighting the endless stream of creatures already. "I get it, Major, but closing the portals doesn't stop more from opening. We've sealed off entire buildings and then portals still appear inside the rooms. Unless the trap is under the portal…"
His Russian rumble barely intelligible, Durov interrupted, "How did civilian 1 and 2 keep safe?"
Really wanting to sit down, Sheppard leant against the wall and sighed, "Rodney had them draw a devils trap that covered the whole floor. Same with all the civilian areas. Only then did the portals stop entirely."
"So what we need is super big trap for the whole city, yes?"
"Tell you what Major, you figure out how, we'll do it."
"Da, ok. We're on it."
Over the comm. the various senior officers were silent and eventually Teldy said, "Colonel's right. Let's regroup and figure out our next steps - see if Durov can pull one out of the bag."
Everyone else agreed, their 'yes, sirs' short as they keyed off. "Come on, let's go see what Rodney's found." Sheppard pealed himself off the wall, stifling a groan as he did. He shook off Winchester's offer to help, his outstretched hand to steady him ignored. Lt. Kalen motioned to his men to start heading back to the Tower.
Collectively they all looked worse for wear, extras from a horror gore-fest gone wrong. The stock pile of holy-hand grenades looked as incongruous as a rubber chicken in a fox hunt, plastic and water pitted against fangs and claws. It was time to start thinking and doing more than just react.
Sheppard hefted his P-90 in place, checked to make sure his machete was still secure and stepped out into the broader hallway leading to the nearest transport.
Naturally, that was when a portal opened up, right on top of him.
*sga*spn*sga*spn*sga*spn*sga*spn*sga*spn*sga*spn*sga*spn*sga*spn*sga*spn*sga*spn
Teyla groaned as the last creature died, Private Novak's machete making short work of it. She was exhausted, arms burning and a worrying shake in her legs. It was a relief to hear the order to pull back and she motioned to Novak. "You ok?"
"Yes," Novak replied and he sheathed his machete. The guy barely looked phased by the hours of fighting, and despite the masking spray of monster blood all over him, appeared unrattled. "I'm going to swing by zone 2 and check on Torren,"
Following her, and scanning the area for potential threats, Novak nodded, "I will accompany you." Teyla opened her mouth to protest that she did not need the assistance, but thought better of it. There was no harm in sticking together and for all of his stiffness and formality, Novak was a steady comrade in battle. It took far too much effort to summon enough energy to jog back to East 5, but Teyla managed, Novak's light footfalls behind her.
The corridors were eerily quiet, and the occasional battle scene, walls and surfaces covered in blood, the odd symbols in black pen etched out, added to the atmosphere. Atlantis, even late at night, normally hummed with life, and energy. It felt subdued, abandoned. As they entered the sections designated for the physicists and engineering labs, the sense of abandonment increased. Through open doors, evidence of the rapid retreat was obvious. Spilled cups of coffees, computer screens flickering, half-eaten meals and snacks on work stations, paper which was such a rare commodity at times scattered on the floor. Teyla scanned the area, alert for possible attack via a portal, Pvt Novak close on her heels. A flicker of movement in one of the labs caught her eye, the familiar pattern of Atlantean architecture there and suddenly not and then back again. Worried she was tired and exhaustion might be a factor, Teyla paused, watching for the motion again.
"Ms Emmagan?"
"There," she nodded, as the brief flicker occurred again, the blue of the wall breaking like it was faulty.
"I see it."
As one, they turned towards the room and Teyla slipped in cautiously, and scanned the room. She didn't recognise the lab, but then she was only really familiar with Rodney and Radek's labs. The room reeked of coffee and a sharper, more metallic smell - blood. There were the usual screens on workstations, various tablets and equipment scattered around. Nothing out of the ordinary, as far as they could see, bar for the fact that the wall at the back of the room occasionally flickered. The room also seemed smaller than usual, but then the science teams could be using space designated as storage for a lab.
Quietly, Novak followed Teyla towards the wall in question and they both stared at the intermittent wall until the Private said, "It isn't real," and stepped right through it. Teyla's heart skipped a little but she followed him and felt nothing as she walked through the wall. On the other side a scene of carnage and destruction greeted them. The room was far larger than originally thought and there were all manner of boxes and cartons stacked in half-broken towers, fallen boxes scattered all over, the contents of which lying about like debris from a storm. Burned, still smouldering bodies of the creatures attacking Atlantis decorated the room in a macabre picture of death and gore.
A solitary work station stood in the middle of the room, surrounded by boxes and crates, the screen for the computer completely covered in blood. Cautiously, Teyla made her way closer, alert for danger. The area around the work station was the centre of the conflict and amidst the chaos of overturned crates and dead creatures, the lone defender of this room had made his stand. Teyla didn't recognise the man and that was mostly due to the horrible way he'd died. The creatures had torn into his chest and abdomen, scattering organs and bones. His head was mostly intact, but was not attached to his body, lying a few inches from his body. Blood splattered the crates and walls, pieces of skin and flesh. The creatures hadn't devoured him, they had merely torn him to pieces and then departed, seeking fresh victims.
Teyla felt her stomach rebel, the smell overwhelming and she gulped in shallow breaths, trying not to inhale too much. Novak was impassive, face unreadable and unmoved. Teyla tapped her comm., about to report in the first fatality when the screen of the computer on the work station caught her eye. The interface looked strange, not like the usual system the SGC used, or even the Ancient database. The screen was black, the writing in green and a series of one line commands stared back at her. The unusual interface, the commands and the chaotic blood splatter intrigued her.
She stepped closer and stared at the words. It took a second for their meaning to sink in and Teyla's pulse raced as she re-read the words. "Ms Emmagan?"
Device placed in largest public area. Confirm ready status.
Confirmed. Test will occur at 19h00 Atlantis time today. Mother device ready.
Did you morons even bother testing the mother device? What the hell where those things?
Home base? You there?
They aren't going away! They're everywhere! Turn it off!
Monroe! Turn it off?! I'm going to toss the turtle into the damn ocean! They are still coming. Monroe!
Teyla shot Novak a look, her heart still racing. This could not be a co-incidence, could it? Tapping her comm., Teyla barked, "Chuck, put me through to John, on a one to one line, please."
Over the comm, Chuck's tone was harassed and harried, "Ah, one … second Teyla, little busy here."
"It's important, Chuck!"
"I'm sure it is, ma'am, but Durov and his men are cut off near the Central Tower. Somehow a trap was broken, or something and they are under attack, I need to…" Teyla signed off politely, leaving him to the unfolding drama.
Private Novak murmured, "The Colonel needs to be alerted, ma'am."
"Agreed, but perhaps in person. Central is .. struggling and hopefully John will be there by now."
The stiff Marine nodded, his grip on his P-90 casual, like it was an afterthought. "Perhaps I should stay here and ensure the scene is secure." It was unlikely that anyone else would interfere, but given the implications of the message and the secret room, perhaps not everyone on Atlantis was trustworthy. Teyla studied the Private. He was new, had perhaps arrived with the last set of transfers, but she wasn't certain. Could he be trusted?
Teyla smiled and said, "Let's wait here together. Keep looking for clues."
A quizzical, confused look flashed across Novak's face, and his brows furrowed, "Clues about what?"
"Like who this poor man was, why he was corresponding with someone and why he has a crate full of zat'nik'tels?" As Teyla turned, her focus still on Novak, just in case, she continued, "And why he wanted to keep this part of the room a secret."
"Ah, understood."
Silently, Teyla added Private Novak onto her list of things to query. He seemed odd, even for an earthling.
*sga*spn*sga*spn*sga*spn*sga*spn*sga*spn*sga*spn*sga*spn*sga*spn*sga*spn*sga*spn
The Gate Room was in a state of frantic, organised chaos by the time Sheppard arrived. McKay had evicted several techs from the sensor stations and Chuck was under serious pressure co-ordinating emergencies across the City. John had despatched Teldy to assist Durov, and Carson was bleating about needing assistance in Medical.
Dawn was only a few hours away and the entire population of Atlantis was run ragged. Wallstreet had most of the civilians making holy hand grenades and assisting in re-securing the rooms in buildings around the Tower. But tired people made mistakes and that was exactly why Durov was in trouble. The trap in the room his people had been crossing through had been drawn badly, or outright incorrectly. A portal had opened up right on top of them and Sheppard knew exactly how that felt. Who knew how many more traps in the supposedly safe zone were faulty?
Wallstreet had seconded several comm. channels and was co-ordinating a room by room sweep checking the traps with people known for having a detailed eye. Any civilian with even the smallest amount of medical training had been deployed to the infirmaries to help with the sheer volume of injuries. Chuck and Charlie were bringing in the scattered teams, Lorne and most of Kalen's teams still making their way in from the scattered buildings in the West and South. Ronon met him as he walked in and gave him an unimpressed look. His tall friend was as cut up and battered as everyone else but seemed to find John's bandages and limp amusing. He rumbled, "Lorne called in. The West pier is crawling with these things. Some of them are the size of a jumper. You got a plan?"
"Maybe," Sheppard nodded and snagged the back of Winchester's vest as the young man tried to dodge left when Sheppard went right, up the stairs to Rodney. Dean's startled 'awk!' made John grin and Ronon slip into position by his side. Winchester sighed, but followed them up the stairs. McKay was dancing around the computers linked to the City's sensors, Radek and a few other scientists at his side. "Anything, Rodney?"
McKay pointed a sharp, irritated finger at John, mouth working silently as he stared at the screen, other hand flying over the keys and Ancient interface. Zelenka was biting his thumb, eyes darting over a series of readouts, hair wild as usual. All of the scientists looked ragged, a few had cuts and monster blood on their faces and clothes, but other than that, seemed ok. Sheppard abruptly felt Ronon's hand on his elbow and a wave of exhaustion washed over him. "I'm ok," he mumbled and Ronon really looked like he believed that. Dean sat down on one of the stairs and John stared at him with real jealousy, but figured if he sat, he wasn't getting back up any time soon. He wasn't leaning against Ronon, no he wasn't. Sheppard stared at McKay.
"Rodney?"
"Yeah, yeah, hang on. Bit busy…"
A rolling crack of thunder split the heavens overhead and lightning flashed, casting the room into bright contrast, afterimages dancing before their eyes. "Is it still raining?" Sheppard murmured, trying to hear over the crowd in the room, but no one answered him. Charlie was sitting under her station, eyes focused on a tablet tracking teams. Chuck was coughing into his arm, his throat dry and hoarse. Near the Gate, one of the Marines flinched as a spark from a portal tried to form and winked out, the massive devil's trap on the floor holding.
"Ah ha!" McKay's face was flushed and red, black sharpie smudges all over his hands. "A spike of unusual energy at nineteen hundred this evening… yesterday. Followed by… the first surge of trans-dimensional energy. There! You see it?" McKay physically dragged Zelenka closer and the Czech peered at the screen, his face highlighted by the harsh light. "There is such a small time difference, Rodney, are you…"
"Yes, yes. See, there. The energy readings are close, but they are two distinct types. A… signal almost, it reads like a transmission spike, but not and then that.. there," and Rodney's finger tapped the screen rapidly. "That there is dimensional and I know dimensional energy signatures. I'd say it was the first hellmouth opening."
"Ok, sure," Zelenka said, still peering at the screen.
The pair stared at the screen some more, their expressions a mix of furrowed worry and interest. Tired and impatient, Sheppard barked, "And? Anything we can use? A source? A cause?"
Rodney's head snapped up, mouth open, but Zelenka beat him by milliseconds, "Not really. The sensors are going crazy with the portals. They are picking up portals opening all over the City and the mainland. On the grid, the safe zone is almost a blank and now that we've fine-tuned the sensors we can probably send teams to stop portals before they get too big, but as for the rest of the City…"
Zelenka dragged the image of the City onto the big screen overhead and Sheppard frowned at the picture. Almost the entire City, aside from the narrow column around the Tower and a few buildings near the Tower, was awash with readings of incoming dimension portals. "Great."
Furious at the interruption, Rodney growled, "More important, there is this." He pulled up a scan of the City at 19h00 and pointed at the blip in the mess hall. "That's the transmission. Probably a signal or something - a base to which the portals were directed." Rodney's face was livid, like the transmission was a personal affront.
"Is it still transmitting?" Sheppard yawned and Rodney quickly pulled up a live scan. He grumbled as he tried to isolate the signal and grimaced as he said, "Maybe. Probably. It's hard to say."
Leaning against Ronon, Sheppard sighed, "Is the mess hall still clear? Can we check it out?" He directed this more to Chuck but Rodney answered, "It's clear." Chuck seconded the agreement, clearly listening to the comms. at the same time.
"Durov?" Sheppard asked and Chucked silenced his comm with one hand and said hoarsely, "They're ok, just trapped. Teldy's run out of water balloons, so Wallstreet is sending down all he has." John nodded, weighed up the benefit going down there himself before shaking his head. "Keep me in the loop, and the moment Kalen's been checked out at medical, send his squads down there." Chuck nodded, fighting a massive yawn.
Ronon was smirking at Dean who seemed slightly affronted by something and was mouthing 'holy hand grenades' at him, to which Ronon grinned even wider. "Come on, Rodney you too, lets track down this transmission." McKay was configuring a tablet, batting at Zelenka who was trying to help. "No, no, Rodney - all frequencies…"
Ignoring the squabble, John straightened and gingerly made his way back down the stairs. Oh, what he'd give for a five minute nap, just five minutes. "Sheppard, you ok?" Ronon's voice was low, and McKay hadn't heard but Winchester's gaze was just a little too sharp. John smiled at Ronon, well aware that he was running on fumes and replied, "Probably not, but I got a few more miles in me. Come on." Ronon's look said it all, but he followed closely, probably preparing himself to catch Sheppard when he collapsed. That suited John just fine.
Winchester trailed them, groaning as he stood, and McKay brought up the rear, stumbling slightly. Dean lagged a little and soon McKay was right behind Sheppard, talking to himself as he tapped furiously on the tablet. John snuck a worried glance at McKay who was not paying attention to where he was walking, but Winchester shot him a careful nod. He was on McKay duty i.e. keep Rodney from walking into stuff. Sheppard nodded in thanks.
It was a clear walk down to Mess Hall three and John listened to the comm. chatter, all of which was busy, but not panicked. They had lost of the City but people seemed still upbeat and engaged. They were nearly at the Mess Hall when Teyla pipped him. "John? Finally, we've found something you need to see, urgently."
Sharing a look with Ronon, Sheppard replied, "Hang tight, Teyla. We're checking out the source of a transmission and we'll swing by you afterwards. Where are you?"
"Is the signal coming from Mess Hall 3?"
Teyla sounded tired and nervous, and Sheppard slowed. "How did you…"
Ignoring comm. protocol Teyla interrupted him and said, "We should move to a secure channel, John."
Confused, and worried, John checked that Rodney was listening and McKay was scowling, but up to date. "Go to alpha gamma five, Teyla." Ronon and McKay tuned their comms. but Winchester made no move to. He didn't have clearance for the alpha channels and strangely enough, he didn't seem too perturbed, scanning the area instead of watching them.
"Teyla?"
Teyla's summary of what she and Novak had found was brief and concise. "I don't recognise him, John and I have never seen such a communication system in Atlantis before. If Rodney has traced the transmission to the mess hall and this man was sending a message about a large public area…"
Sheppard was nodding, well aware she couldn't see him and when she trailed off, he said, "Yeah, it can't be a co-incidence. Teyla, stay there, and contact me immediately if anyone else comes by. As much as I don't like the idea of an enemy agent on Atlantis, we can't assume he was alone. You ok with Novak?"
"Understood, Colonel. I'll contact you." Her reticence was audible, but it sounded more like she was being careful than was getting a vibe off Novak. Besides, Teyla could kick just about everyone's ass. She could handle Novak if needed. Nonetheless, the worry sent a spike of adrenalin into his system and Sheppard stepped into the Mess Hall with some vigour. Potential answers waited with Teyla. If they could find the signal and stop it….
McKay had had the same idea and darted ahead of Sheppard into the abandoned room. Had it only been a few hours ago that their evening had gone to hell in this very room? Winchester was frowning at a cut on his arm, which was still stubbornly bleeding. McKay was waving his tablet in the air, trying to triangulate the source, a deep scowl furrowing his forehead. "Anything?"
"Patience!"
Trying for patience, Sheppard watched as Rodney made his way towards a pillar which lay flush against the wall. Glaring at the pillar like it was deliberately in the way, McKay stared at it. Ronon joined him and together they stared at the area, like the sheer force of their combined will would reveal the answer. Ronon eventually grunted and stuck his hand behind the pillar, where there was a space between it and the wall. He pulled out a blue stone turtle.
"Eh?" Rodney squeaked and pointed his tablet at the turtle. Whatever he saw, it confirmed that the signal was coming from the little turtle, "It's coming from that!"
"Is there an off-switch?" John asked, slowly making his way towards them, threading a path through upturned tables and chairs. He also tried not to step in any pools of blood. Winchester trailed, clutching his arm.
Ronon was peering at the turtle which looked even smaller in his hands, while Rodney made several aborted attempts to snatch it from him. "Let… I think." With a sigh, Ronon handed it to him and McKay beamed, pushing its head. "Carson had one of these, I think."
Nothing happened and Rodney continued to press parts of the turtle. "Come on! Turn off!" He kept looking at the screen of the tablet, which stubbornly continued to show the signal transmission. Growling, McKay slammed the turtle against the wall, but still the signal continued.
"Give it here, " Ronon snapped and Rodney snarled as he tossed it back. Before Sheppard could say anything, he tossed it into the air and shot it with his blaster. "Ack! Wait! What?" Rodney gasped. Winchester startled but grinned at Ronon's pleased expression.
The remains of the turtle landed on the floor, charred pieces everywhere. "Did it work?"
"Uhm," Rodney flustered, hands shaking but he beamed, "Yes! Signal gone!"
Sheppard quickly tapped for Zelenka and snapped, "Zelenka, the signal's gone. What about the portals?"
Over the comm, Zelenka's voice sounded rough, and his sigh was heavy, "Alas, Colonel. The portals remain and more are appearing."
"Shit!" Sheppard shouted, kicking a nearby table.
"Maybe it takes some time for the portals to dissipate. I mean the signal has been going strong for hours," Rodney suggested, deflating a little. John shook his head, feeling every ache and pain and cursed again. "Can you and Zelenka try and block the portals? Durov had some idea about creating a giant trap, or something. Maybe if you…"
McKay opened his mouth to speak but whatever he was about to say was lost when Winchester collapsed, falling into several chairs. The noise was startling more than anything and he looked as surprised to be on the floor as they were to see him there. He wasn't completely out of it, just as white as a sheet, lips pale. There was blood seeping through the fingers of the hand clutching his arm. Ronon reached him first and hauled him up. "Get him to Carson, Ronon."
"I'm fine," Winchester mumbled, despite barely being able to stand. Ronon nodded and Sheppard turned to Rodney. "Let's go see what Teyla found. Maybe the answer to stopping the portals is there."
"Knowing our luck, no. But you're right."
Sheppard waved Ronon off as he walked Winchester away and Rodney rolled his eyes a little at the worried look Sheppard gave him. "I'm fine. For now. You however look like an extra from a chainsaw massacre movie. You are you aren't about to collapse?"
Shrugging, Sheppard stared at the remains of the turtle. What on earth was going on?
*sga*spn*sga*spn*sga*spn*sga*spn*sga*spn*sga*spn*sga*spn*sga*spn*sga*spn
TBC