Day 53, 1600, recon mission; attn: Miller, Stackhouse, Duvall, Dex (F)

[t4_ltmiller]

As they made their way back to meet the rest of the team and check on the prisoners, Tim’s mind kept churning over the horrors they had witnessed in the other building. Where the largest energy signature had been located was some kind of experiment. He hadn’t the time to study it as long as he wanted, but it seem as though they were using human

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[ltlauracadman]

Laura Cadman stood in her cell at a deceptively calm parade rest, shoulders relaxed, hands tucked one into the other behind her back. They didn't even bother keeping a guard on her anymore, but she stood in the center of the room in defiance anyway. She wasn't broken, her stance said. Not yet. And she wanted to prove it to them - as well as to herself

[atlantistngnpcs]

They slipped down the hall toward the crematorium, all of them heartsick from what they'd seen inside the wraith ship. Mike comforted himself that at least they'd be coming back to rescue the people cocooned inside-- he hoped. They just had to get home and come up with a rescue plan based on the intel they'd gathered.

As they pressed close to the wall, he saw the other group coming up behind them.

[t4_ltmiller]

Tim stopped his group once they rejoined the rest of the team and he could tell by the look in their eyes that the ship had been bad. Possibly as bad as their own recon. "We're going to do a head count and then head back to the jumper," he said

[ltlauracadman]

Cadman's stomach lurched as her faceless escorts turned her left instead of keeping straight. It meant they were leaving the building. Not even the promise of sunshine could stop the bitter bile from rising up in Laura's throat. She knew where they were going.

They were heading for the Crematorium.

It was the latest tactic in wearing her down. Like a twisted Cinderella, they'd make her sit by the sometimes still smoldering ashes of the day's previous victims, handing her a snarl of dog tags that she would then carefully lay out on the table.

She stumbled, the bile in her throat so thick she started to gag on it. The Faceless One shoved her forward, over the threshold of the irised door and out into the courtyard.

[atlantistngnpcs]

Mike nodded, giving Miller the rough count of how many of their people they'd seen cocooned on the ship. "There were some non-Lanteans as well," he reported in a low voice. "Not many, though. There might be some among our people in this building as well."