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Author: Flaim aka Darkfalconheart
Story: You can stand with us. (2/?)
Pairing: nothing as of yet.
Summary: Sequel to "You can run with us" Three months after returning to Atlantis, John is still struggling with the changes his time as a Runner wrought on him and danger is always only one planet away.
Rating: for this chapter: 13 , may be higher in later chapters
Warnings: some violence
Status: WIP
Spoilers: Up to ‘The lost tribe’.
Wordcount: ca. 3700
The voice that calls you
Pray that your strength will not desert you when the night falls,
Hope that your soul will prove strong when danger closes in on you,
Pray that your blade will not break under the shadow,
Hope that you will die proudly in the face of those who walk the night,
And may the Ancestors shelter you when the Nocturnals track you down.
(Blessing from the Pegasus galaxy)
General O’Neill had left Vintár to the attention of Dr. Beckett and gestured the Team to follow him up to the command gallery. John noted that a team of Marines led by Lt. Sean O’Connor was already waiting there. “Troubles, Sir?” He inquired trying to sound casual.
“Team 3 missed the last two contact slots, last report from them was that the locals on Ilancor were troubled by a shadowy creature that stalked the woods and stole children. Could be a lone Wraith by the description and they went to investigate.” O’Neill summed things up.
“Illo went Wraith hunting with his team?” John asked frowning. His friend was capable in his own right and had been more than willing to learn what he could from Ronon and John; still John knew very well that there was no such thing like a lone Wraith, at least not for long.
“Major Schmiedeberg wasn’t all convinced that it was a Wraith, but it was the most logical conclusion at the time.” O’Neill cast an impatient glance at this watch. “Their check in is now six hours overdue and for them sunset is less than 90 minutes away. If we do not hear from them in another hour I need you Colonel and Specialist Dex to check out the situation.” He turned to the others. “Dr. McKay, Doctors Zelenka and Garibelli have requested your immediate presence at lab 5. I’ll trust you keep them from blowing up Atlantis. Teyla…”
“General, would it not be better to have the full team to do the reconnaissance?” Teyla asked politely forestalling a dismissal, see saw coming.
“No, they will move faster on their own and will coordinate easier if they have to go into a fire-situation.”
Meaning the General knew the two Runners would handle a lone Wraith or two best without anyone trying to keep up with them. John nodded curtly. “Understood, Sir. Do we have MALP telemetry and maps of the area?”
John and Ronon had begun studying the maps and other available material right away. With a curt gesture John had also invited Lt. O’Connor. The map revealed much what John had expected to see and some details that could prove vital. “Typical Rotunda village, not outer walls, the buildings providing the main cover against potential dangers from the wilderness,” John observed, he had seen this type of village on countless worlds, it probably was one of the settlement types that had come with Ancients ‘seeding’ human life throughout the galaxy. He also remembered the set-up from the Game and saw it was kept pretty much in this case. “Half a kilometre away from the river and situated on the bottom of the valley, resulting in three main attack angles,” he finished his assessment.
“The Wraith will have a hideout somewhere, either in a cave in these hills or in the ruins east of the river.” Ronon added. “Better we tackle him out in the open than in his lair.”
“What about the vanished children?” O’Connor interjected. “If one of them is still alive, it is probably stuck in that monster’s hideout.”
John’s head jerked up, perhaps it was the accent of the man that caused the reaction along with the rather ‘idealistic’ assumption that one of the victims of the Wraith might still be alive. He checked a cutting remark at once, unlikely as it was, it was not up to them to dismiss the option. “Once we got the Wraith out of the picture you and your people can search for the hideout and make sure that any survivors make it back in one piece. It will help us to avoid a hostage situation.” He decided.
“Unscheduled off-world activation!” The call interrupted their discussions, ending all speculations as their sole focus was on the gate that had begun moving.
“What is it, Chuck?” O’Neill inquired.
“Sergeant Bear’s IDC, Sir!” Chuck reported. “Incoming radio-signal.”
Shepard listened up. Bear belonged to team 3. The first they heard over the speakers was static, interrupted from the distinctive sound of gunfire. “….tlantis… do you copy?.... “ Bear’s voice was hardly to be heard over the sounds of an explosion.
“Bear, this is Atlantis, what’s your status?” O’Neil’s eyes were on the screens that should show MALP video signals, but they showed only the indistinct shapes of the nightly landscape.
“We’re under attack from an unknown enemy,” again gunfire interrupted Bear’s voice. “it tears his path through the village, it shows no reaction to gunfire, grenades and C-4’s are equally ineffective, Sir! We got most of the people out of the village before the attack, but they are nailed down in the valley south of the gate…” again gunfire an a far away explosion. “The Major and Lt. Kemare are drawing the creature away form the people and into the ruins east from here. But it’s minions are tearing the civilians apart, we need backup, Sir.” A shrill shriek rose over the static, followed by gunfire and the sickening sound of breaking bones.
“Bears?” O’Neill spoke louder than necessary, he like most others in the room feared that the snapping bones they had heard belonged to one of their men.
“I hear you, Sir. One of those things snug up on me. Old-fashioned neck-snapping kills them just fine.”
“Bears, listen up – back up is under way. Hold your position by the gate, they’ll need your directions to get the civilians out of there.” The General turned to the men that were ready to move out. “O’Connor – you and your people get the civilians out of there. Evac is your main priority. Try to avoid engaging the enemy as much as you can, you heard what the Sergeant said about your weapons. Shepard – I need you and Dex to assist in keeping the main enemy occupied until the Evacuation is finished. Try to gather as much intel as you can, but keeping that thing – whatever it might be – away from the civilians and the gate is your main objective.”
***
The pitch darkness beyond the gate was only a minor problem for John, his eyes adjusted pretty quickly to it ever since his misadventure in the dark space. Seeing better than most of his companions allowed him to see Sergeant Bears clearly. Not that they actually needed it. The limps of some creature, ripped apart and flying through the air, were a clear sign were Bears had made his stand. Still John was worried when he saw the bad shape the man was in. Bears usually lived up to his name, tall, broad-shouldered and very muscular he was a mountain of a man, tough as nails and unmoveable as stone. But right now he was barely keeping on his feet, countless injuries covered his body, slashes that looked like claw wounds. Another creature that looked like a five-legged spider jumped at him, but before he could react, John had moved between Bears and the creature, letting it jump right into his sharp blade. It died with a pained shriek, telling John that whatever this slimy thing might be, it was definitely not invincible.
“O’Connor leave one of your men with Bears to cover the gate!” Shepard knew they better did not lose time here. “Sarge, where is the main enemy?”
“Last time I heard from Lt. Kemare they were close to the river, two clicks down east, Sir.” The sergeant answered the question. “Good, let us know when the civilians are out of here.”
John and Ronon made their way down to the River fast enough. They didn’t need further directions, the noises of a fight were clearly audible over the other noises of the night. A sizzling sound in the bushes made John stop, raising his blade. Within moments half a dozen of the small five legged creatures jumped at him, hitting him with sharp, pointed legs. His blade made short work of them, he was glad that he had talked O’Neill into allowing him to add the non-standard weapon to his equipment. Another jumped at him, his blade hit it midair, cutting it in two, it fell with a mashing sound, leaving a dark, stinking puddle on the ground. The only attribute to describe those things was slimy it seemed. Seeing that Ronon had finished off the rest of the sorry bunch, he picked up the pace again and they continued towards the river.
More attacks found them the closer they came to the river. It seemed all the dark woods were alive with the crawling beasts that tried to jump at them from the ground and out of the trees, to swarm them in large group or just to slow them down. John and Ronon cut their way through them, pressing further and further towards the riverbanks.
The ruins of something that once had been a city stretched far into the waters of the fast running river. Shepard frowned, there was something that he did not like about this place but he could not point his finger to it. And what he really did not like was fare more obvious: a large distorted form, black as the night, walking on seven spider-legs supporting a pear-shaped torso with whip-like tentacles, a grey mist, like an aura, obscured the form of the creature further. John exhaled sharply. That thing was huge! An explosion rocked the ruins, brought down the remains of a building on the legs of the creature. The thing didn’t even slow down, but brought his tentacles down on the two man that were trying to evade it. Like lighting swift whips the tentacles came down and they found their targets. John saw both men being tossed up in the air, crashing roughly into the rubble.
“Under them, that’s their vulnerable spot. Where the torso and the legs connect.” Shepard turned to Ronon. “Big guy, I need you to get our comrades out of that rubble before they drown. I’ll see what I can do about our slimy guest down there.”
“Alright.” Ronon set off without further words, disposing of some more minions as they came. His fast, agile dash across the ruins drew the attention of the creature for a moment, the moment John needed to get down in the back of the creature. Walking would have been far too slow, but thankfully the creature had littered the ground with it’s disgusting slime. John let himself halfway slide under the creature. What the odd armoured shell of the creature did not show on the outside was far more clearly visible from down here: the place where the legs and the torso connected was rather thin and weak. Without the armour shell that protected it from the outside it looked like dry withered muscles or old leather.
Ramming the blade into one of these muscle-strains John had to use all his strength to actually cut it. The creature screamed and began to trample wildly with its still functional legs. A load of slime came down on John. He ignored it, turning to the opposite leg doing the same as before. The shriek rose louder, shriller, hurting their ears. But with two opposite legs disabled the creature had definite troubles to move. Several small creatures hustled in between the spider-legs, attacking John. With his blade still caught up in the creature, he had to fight them off with his bare hands. They were slimy, slippery and every time he touched them a bone-deep cold jolted through his entire body. Bright orange shots on the outside distracted the nxt swarm running around there. John grinned; Ronon had understood what he was doing and took care of the beasts. Retrieving the blade he began to attack the creature in earnest.
John did not know for how many times he had run his blade into the creature’s vulnerable underbelly, his whole body was covered with slime, cuts and bruises from the creature’s frantic fighting back. But he saw he was getting there, the creature could not take much more. Marshalling his strength he ran the blade straight into the centre of the lowered torso. The blade was shaking in his hands but it did not give in, the creature was shaking more and screamed before it suddenly fell silent. With a near-silent groan the creature toppled over and fell down onto the ruins and into the water of the river. Rolling himself to the side quickly had brought John out of the creatures falling path. He jumped to his feet, ready to fight on if necessary but the creature lay unmoving, slowly turning into the rising puddle of a black, stinking substance. They had made it.
By the time they reached the gate again John found himself freezing. It was not because his clothes were soaked and the wind was chilling him out, it was a familiar cold that went deeper than skin and bones, chilling his soul. While moving helped a little to shake it off, it did not remove the problem altogether. “You feel it too?” he asked Ronon in low tones.
“It’s like that place,” Ronon replied in a hush. “back in the dark space. Nocturnals.”
John cast a short glance at Illo and Lt. Kemare, both were limping, injured and exhausted. They too had come into contact with the slime, both also carried the marks of the tentacle whips but none of them looked like they were going to black out anytime soon.
Back at the gate they saw O’Connor and his marines, securing a close perimeter around the gate. O’Connor looked relieved when he saw them. “Colonel!”
John cut off any further remark. “I know, I know… the General is already impatient to get a report.” He made light of things. Minutes after the game was dialling up and they were on their way.
***
Under the tree’s, well hidden in the shadows, a tall dark figure watched them leave. After the wormhole disconnected the figure moved out speedily, studying the tracks of the men that had just left. Stopping by the tracks that had slimy traces left and right, he moved his hand over them, inhaling deeply, repeating the procedure time and again for some minutes. A sound, a high pitched shriek arose in the skies. The crouched figure looked up and saw a huge winged creature glide majestically through the nightly skies and eventually land in the woods. He jumped to his feet, hurrying towards the landing point. He’d have to hurry and report back, report his failure. But now he knew the scent of several of them, one of them had to be the right one.
***
The first of the Doctors that O’Neill ran into was Dr. Keller who had taken care of the injured civilians. “Dr. Beckett is over there –“ she pointed towards the other side of the medical section, she said curtly and hurried on.
O’Neill walked over to the place where neither Shepard, nor Dex, nor Schmiedeberg or Kemare had escaped the good Doctor. When they arrived O’Neill had thought for a moment that some kind of monster had managed to make it through with O’Connor and his people. The figures covered with blood and slime had looked like something that had escaped a whacked horror-movie. By now the four men looked semi-normal again, aside from cuts, bruises and whip-marks. He wasn’t the first to check on them, Teyla was here already, making sure her friends were well. Beckett was still occupied taking care of all those injuries and was telling them off at the same time. “John and Ronon, I don’t know where to start, you seem to find a perverse pleasure to keep me at work day-in day-out; Dietmar, I’d have expected that a lad like you had more sense than getting himself whipped down like this.”
John chuckled. “We just know that you’ll have us on our feet in no time, Doc.”
“I only see that you take worse risks than some other people I could name. And you lad,” he turned to Kemare, who had listened with a faint amusement. “you take your cues from them and run into every trouble they point you.”
Beckett saw O’Neill and interrupted his friendly rant. “General, I fear I need to keep these gentlemen here overnight.” He declared. “All of them have too low a temperature, their eyes are clouded by some odd bio-infectant and something has taken a lot of sheer strength out of their system, hence the exhaustion.”
“It’s not that bad.” John interjected. “We have had worse.”
“Did you?” Beckett spun around. “But this time you are here and under my care. And I tell you, you stay in for this night and get some rest.”
O’Neill nodded. “You heard the man.” He knew he didn’t really need to reinforce Beckett’s authority with them. Shepard and Dex, two of the ‘Lions’, might grumble about being restricted to bed rest or staying in the infirmary but respected their friend Beckett far too much to disobey him. The same went for Schmiedeberg, on a different level. So he did not remind them to be reasonable, it wasn’t necessary. “Do you know what attacked you?”
“Nocturnals.”
O’Neill directed his gaze at the tall Satedan who had given the one-word answer. “And what exactly are Nocturnals?”
“Sir, I met creatures like this – who have the same effect on people, that is – on a remote world during my time as a runner.” Colonel Shepard spoke up. “Ronon and Jir saved me from a nest of them. Those we encountered here looked different, but they definitely felt the same.”
“The Nocturnals are a legend, General.” Teyla explained. “A story told to children, so they won’t go outside after nightfall. The legend tells us that there was a great evil realm thousands of years before the ancestors came to this galaxy. A nameless evil ruled over this galaxy, it ruled from a city resting in a burning sea under a sky full of angry stars. It had legions of many-faced minions who stalked the night and stole everything that was good and warm in all living things. When the Ancestors came to this galaxy they created a light so bright that it drove away the Nocturnals, destroyed their evil city and doused the flames of the burning sea. Only few of them escaped the destruction and now stalk the world after nightfall to lure unsuspecting travellers into their grasp.” Teyla smiled. “It’s just a story, General.”
“A story that nearly killed one of our teams.” If O’Neill had learned something from Daniel, then it was that every story had some truth at it’s very core. He turned back to Ronon and Shepard. “Those Nocturnals you encountered…”
“They were beasts, not really thinking things.” Dex elaborated. “They feed on emotions, all warm emotions are food for them, but they are not intelligent. They exist by instinct alone, they are predators, animals. Dangerous animals, yes but not intentionally evil.”
“Which doesn’t go for our guest of today,” Schmiedeberg interjected. “That thing acted intelligently and planned, it had an odd sense for tactics, but it was definitely a thinking being.”
“Jircanor night know more about those things.” Shepard mused. “He knew them best back when we first met them.”
“He should be back at Atlantis about the same time Daedalus arrives here with the IOA-Inspection.” O’Neill replied. “Up till then we can only analyse what we found. How did you take out this creature?”
Shepard went on and described how he had attacked the creature from below and cut it up. He did not mention the voice in his head. What O’Neill had said reminded him that the official Inspection by the IOA was only days away, it was definitely the wrong time to mention that he was hearing voices.
O’Neill had listened to all the details very carefully and while he noted that Shepard was hesitant to talk about all details of the fight, he could imagine that not anyone would just go on and bitch about the yuck-factor of that particular confrontation. It was another fact that struck him. “So it was your blade that proved effective against these things?” It wasn’t the first time he heard this. Old-fashioned melee weaponry seemed perversely state-of-the-art out in three Galaxies he had seen so far. If things went on like this, they would have to start and train more of their people in the use of such weapons. Just in case. “Do you think a C-4 detonated right under that thing could have had a similar effect?”
“No, Sir.” Shepard shook his head. “The creature seemed to be rather resistant against any kind of firepower, explosion blasts and the like. The outer armour would probably also have resisted a blade or other physical object, but the certain parts of the underbelly were vulnerable to precise hits.” In other words: gut them or leave it. “They are creatures of the cold and dark, they fear the warmth, the fire. But it takes a strong will to make them burn like torches.” Lucian’s voice whispered on the edge of his conscious. Shepard steadied himself with a hand against the wall. Everything around him was spinning.
“General, I must insist that you keep the debriefing for tomorrow, these men are exhausted and need to rest.” Dr. Beckett put an end to the discussion.
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no subject
Date: 2009-05-25 08:38 pm (UTC)From:As always, this sequel is very good, I can't wait to read the next chapters xP
That those creatures, will be on the lookout for ??
although I have an idea ?-?
=^-^=
YOu Can Stand With US
Date: 2010-02-25 07:31 pm (UTC)From: (Anonymous)no subject
Date: 2010-11-05 08:20 pm (UTC)From:louis vuitton shoulder bag
Date: 2011-02-12 12:44 am (UTC)From: (Anonymous)