White by Alleonh [Burning Up Challenge]
Title: White
Rating: PG-13
Length: ~256 words
Spoilers: None
Summary: The Daedalus was too far away, the planet too close, the jumper too damaged, the clock too far gone.
They were burning.
That dart came out of nowhere, careening towards them in a kamikaze run that clipped the jumper, tearing off a drive pod and sending them in an uncontrolled spiral towards the planet's upper atmosphere.
The Daedalus was too far away, the planet too close, the jumper too damaged, the clock too far gone. John gripped the controls needlessly in white knuckled fists. His thoughts were blurred somewhere between the cool calm of a pilot facing a pilot's death; and the heart rending panic of a soccer mom about to run head-on into a transfer truck with her kids in the backseat.
Teyla was slumped over behind him, her eyes closed, blood pooling from a head wound received in the hit. Ronon supported her with one arm while his free hand clenched into a fist. His eyes were wide with an uncharacteristic fear, the fear of a foot soldier who was never meant to die a pilot's death. God, he's so young. John had never really thought about it, never noticed it till just now.
His risked a glance beside him to where Rodney was elbow deep in puddle jumper crystals and conduit, trying to eek out shields, or some semblance of control from the unresponsive, dead, machine. Rodney looked over, met his eyes. John looked back at him.
I've lost count, Rodney. Is it your turn to save our lives, or mine?
It didn't matter. Time had run out. The flames licking at the view port surged and John's world went white.
A/N: The last line is up for interpretation. ^_~
Rating: PG-13
Length: ~256 words
Spoilers: None
Summary: The Daedalus was too far away, the planet too close, the jumper too damaged, the clock too far gone.
They were burning.
That dart came out of nowhere, careening towards them in a kamikaze run that clipped the jumper, tearing off a drive pod and sending them in an uncontrolled spiral towards the planet's upper atmosphere.
The Daedalus was too far away, the planet too close, the jumper too damaged, the clock too far gone. John gripped the controls needlessly in white knuckled fists. His thoughts were blurred somewhere between the cool calm of a pilot facing a pilot's death; and the heart rending panic of a soccer mom about to run head-on into a transfer truck with her kids in the backseat.
Teyla was slumped over behind him, her eyes closed, blood pooling from a head wound received in the hit. Ronon supported her with one arm while his free hand clenched into a fist. His eyes were wide with an uncharacteristic fear, the fear of a foot soldier who was never meant to die a pilot's death. God, he's so young. John had never really thought about it, never noticed it till just now.
His risked a glance beside him to where Rodney was elbow deep in puddle jumper crystals and conduit, trying to eek out shields, or some semblance of control from the unresponsive, dead, machine. Rodney looked over, met his eyes. John looked back at him.
I've lost count, Rodney. Is it your turn to save our lives, or mine?
It didn't matter. Time had run out. The flames licking at the view port surged and John's world went white.
A/N: The last line is up for interpretation. ^_~